In order to reach the Lotus Temple, you have to check your shoes. If you want to visit there, take my advice: go in the evening, when the sun is not burning with skin-frying intensity. I, along with everyone else silly enough to visit around 1pm, hopped up the path on a hot bamboo rug and literally burning hot stones. I barely held back the tears when I finally reached the temple, and stepped onto cool stones. The contrast alone was enough to make me want to stop and send up a prayer of thankfulness for the shade.
Tourists are herded inside of the temple in groups, and asked to be silent for the sake of those who would like to stop and pray.
I'll be you can imagine how well that went...
I was standing behind a woman who was having trouble controlling her daughter. And by "trouble" I mean she ignored the child, fawning over her boyfriend, until the girl started looking for ways to entertain herself, like trying to climb up the glass windows (not possible), or throwing small rocks in the small space between other tourists. When the commotion of this entertainment attracted glances of censure from Indian Aunties and Grandmas, the woman blushed with shame and began to smack the wayward girl wherever she could reach - the face, the leg, the arm. This little routine continued into the temple, with the slaps becoming sharper as the Mother's embarrassment increased.
I chose to sit far away from them.
The inside of the temple was beautiful - impeccable design on the walls and ceiling, with a beautiful alter in the middle. Unfortunately, (albeit understandably) photos were not allowed.
On the way out, I decided to visit the pools below. There were three pools were the weary and the faithful could refresh their feet. I desperately wanted to dip my feet in, but I tend to avoid bodies of standing water in hot countries where I have no medical coverage. For the sake of experience, I dipped in my big toe. Of course, I regretted that later that night, when I toe swelled painfully to twice its size.
Kidding. I was fine.
Tourists are herded inside of the temple in groups, and asked to be silent for the sake of those who would like to stop and pray.
I'll be you can imagine how well that went...
I was standing behind a woman who was having trouble controlling her daughter. And by "trouble" I mean she ignored the child, fawning over her boyfriend, until the girl started looking for ways to entertain herself, like trying to climb up the glass windows (not possible), or throwing small rocks in the small space between other tourists. When the commotion of this entertainment attracted glances of censure from Indian Aunties and Grandmas, the woman blushed with shame and began to smack the wayward girl wherever she could reach - the face, the leg, the arm. This little routine continued into the temple, with the slaps becoming sharper as the Mother's embarrassment increased.
I chose to sit far away from them.
The inside of the temple was beautiful - impeccable design on the walls and ceiling, with a beautiful alter in the middle. Unfortunately, (albeit understandably) photos were not allowed.
On the way out, I decided to visit the pools below. There were three pools were the weary and the faithful could refresh their feet. I desperately wanted to dip my feet in, but I tend to avoid bodies of standing water in hot countries where I have no medical coverage. For the sake of experience, I dipped in my big toe. Of course, I regretted that later that night, when I toe swelled painfully to twice its size.
Kidding. I was fine.
