Sikh And Ye Shall Find

I seldom end up where I wanted to go, but almost always end up where I need to be.
- Sri Guru Granth Sahib J



It's the last Sunday of the year. 


I crawled into bed with my brother and a can of honey roasted peanuts (the only food in the house). Snuggled up under the blankets we watched the last Sunday Morning of the year and delighted in the calm soothing voice of Charles Osgood. Jonathan was flying out that afternoon - returning home to Washington DC - and these were to be our final few moments. Though I offered, Jonathan wasn't interested in attending church with me that morning. Especially when I informed him of the turban requirement. 

We bid our farewells - gentle hugs and silly handwaves- and I left my brother to finish the journey I started twelve months ago. 

Dressed in a long floral skirt with black leggings underneath, a purple shirt, and a green floral headscarf with a navy pom pom lining I hoped in my little blue civic and drove off in search of my last adventure. 

But first I stopped at Starbucks. For the Starbucks on South Kingshighway makes THE best chai tea latte I've ever had. And nothing brightens my morning like the perfect chai. Sorry local coffeeshops. 

For the past three months I've been trying to make it to the Sihk Study Circle in St. Peters, MO and for three months my attempts have been thwarted. I had come up with a fantastic post title and couldn't justify not using it in my blog, but I needed to actually attend the place. So, come hell or high water today was going to be the day I made it to the Sikhs (pronounced Seeks). 

And it was. 


As I drove thorough a residential neighborhood in the rural area of St. Peters I was quite certain I was lost. But then, just over a hill and past the Church of Christ I saw them....giant shining gold domes. 

I sat in the car for a moment nervously organizing nothing. The holidays allowed no time for research so I was entering into the Gurdwara (what Sikhs call their place of worship) blind. I adjusted my headscarf, looked myself in the mirror and opened the car door. You know very well there is nothing to be nervous about. I walked through the glass doors and saw three men with colorful turbans on their heads and immediately sought their assistance. 

"Hello. This is my first first. Is there anything I should know?" 


A man in a purple shirt and matching purple turban quickly jumped up and greeted me. My nerves were calmed by the presence of my favorite color - purple. My new purple friend asked me to remove my shoes and wash my hands. So I did. Then he took me 
on a tour of EVERY SINGLE ROOM IN THE BUILDING. 

I'm not joking. 

We saw the kitchen where rugs lined the floors instead of tables. After Sunday service Sikh's share a meal called Langar and unless you are physically unable to do so you are expected to sit on the floor. In the kitchen I saw beautiful women in colorful sari's with matching headscarves. My tour continued with the bridal room, where women get ready for their wedding ceremonies. We then viewed the children's learning area - just a carpeted room without anything on the walls. My purple friend who never told me his name explained that this building had only been open for three months and still wasn't fully put together. We then viewed the adult learning spaces. After he opened to doors to the prayer room - a large expansive carpeted space lined with white sheets. At the front of the room was an alter with flashing Christmas lights. Inside the alter sat a bearded man sing-reading from a scroll in a language I didn't understand (Punjabi). I assumed our tour had come to an end, but nope, not quite. 

There are several Gurus at the Gurdwara who sing-read scripture in the prayer room from 8:00 am until 8:00 pm. These Gurus live at the Gurdwara and I was shown their living quarters as well as the laundry facilities available at the church. Then I was given a fascinating tour of the mechanical part of the Gurdwara including the room for the heaters and their storage of rock salt for icy days. The man in purple was very kind and gentle and answered all my questions. He was quick to explain the difference between Sikhs and Muslims and why I shouldn't confuse the two. 

I thanked my new friend in the purple turban and went into the prayer room. Service was supposed to start at 10:30 am and it was now 10:45. I found a place on the women's side of the floor and sat with my legs crossed. There was only one other person in the room. Confusing. The Guru sang-read the scripture and I watched people enter the room, bow in front of the alter and offer a small amount of cash money. Some came and sat on the sheets for a while and then shortly after left the room. At one point the Guru got up from his chair and started mixing something in a bowl. He then walked around to the four other people in the room and put little balls of soft warm orange dough in their hands. When it was my turn I took the dough and ate like the others had done. I immediately wanted to spit it out. It tasted disgusting - like sweet warm playdoh. Apparently it is a sacred pudding offered at the end of Sikh services. 

But service wasn't over. Service continued. I know this isn't the most exciting thing to read about - sitting, but that's all that happened. I sat. I read over the information my purple friend gave me and stared at the walls. I didn't think about much. I didn't reflect on much. I. Just. Sat. 

During my sitting I learned some interesting things about Sikhs. All Sikhs wear a bracelet to remind them of their connection to God. Sure enough every wrist in the place was bangled. Sikhs do not cut their hair or shave their beards and always carry a comb with them to keep their hair clean. Sikhs are peaceful people who believe in tolerating other religions. Sikhs are instructed to carry swords with them at all times, but not for violence, instead swords are used to fight injustice. I didn't see any swords.

Eventually it was time for music. The Guru sat on the raised platform and played the Vaja - a hand pump organ. The Guru sang. Someone else played drums. More and more people started filing in, bowing at the alter and sitting on the sheets.

Honestly, it wasn't terribly exciting. 

Though, at one point when a woman went to bow down at the alter her pants fell down and she exposed her entire ass. No one acknowledged it but EVERY person in the room saw that woman's hiney.  


My purple friend explained that at 1:00 they stopped for a vegetarian meal and that I was welcome and encouraged to stay. But at NOON I was tired of sitting in silence and my legs were going numb and I was ready to be done. 

I quietly gathered my belongings and left the prayer room that was now full of people. I thanked the man in the purple turban who so graciously showed me around and left the building. The moment I walked out the doors I swear I could hear Queen's iconic "We Are the Champions" playing. I felt like raising my fists to the sky Rocky Balboa style. 


I did it.  


My year of journeying was complete. 

I just sat in the car and smiled. I turned up the radio and rocked out. Holy crap I'm done. 

I did it. 

I don't have to research churches anymore.

Or wake up early on Sunday!

Hooray!!!!


I know this post wasn't terribly exciting. Well, sometimes church isn't very exciting. Sometimes it's boring and sometimes it's offensive and sometimes it's moving and sometimes it's inspiring and sometimes you meet kinds wonderful people and sometimes no one talks to you and sometimes you have brilliant things to write and sometimes all you have are the mundane details of the experience. Yup, that's just how it goes sometimes. But you'll never know until you go.


That doesn't mean I think everyone should embark on a church journey. God no. This isn't for everyone. But I think you should be careful how you judge "church people" without ever attending a service. I think you should be careful how you judge people in general and maybe just don't. Don't judge. Be open to new experiences and new ideas and new people and new religions.


But DO go on a journey. Maybe not a church journey or a pilgrimage to India, but a journey none the less. A journey of any kind. I highly recommend that. Seek and ye shall find all kinds of things.




****There is one more post. A final reflection of my year of church visits. SO, don't unsubscribe just yet. Unless you want to. In which case, thanks for reading along. It's been a thrill to share my journey with you. *****