Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

I’ll start by discussing our trip to the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir on Sunday, which I think was on balance a positive experience, despite my serious reservations about the implications of some aspects of their tour. I liked best having a chance to learn about all the functions and spaces of a Hindu temple and also getting a sense of Hindu prayer, which I’m ashamed to say I’ve never really looked into. On the other hand, I really disliked some aspects of the tour, particularly the Hinduism exhibit and what I’ll call the “wall of famous white people who approve of us.”

Some of the former was presentation of simple facts about Hinduism as a whole, but not nearly enough of it was. The rest of it sought to elevate their particular sect above the rest, elevate Indian civilization above western civilization, and at the same time imply that quotes from white historians and writers about Hinduism should be what convince the British masses to accept Hinduism. I can understand being proud of one’s particular sect, but the last two do a disservice to the exhibit. I approve of recognizing the formidable achievements of Indians throughout history as part of a Hinduism exhibit, but I cannot support essentially saying that every innovation in history is proof of the superiority of Indian civilization (the most silly panel was something like this: Indians invented the concept of zero, think how many times those crazy Romans would have to write M to get to 10 million before we set them straight!)

The quotes from white historians and “wall of famous white people who approve of us” are altogether more problematic. The fact that they were a centerpiece of the tour makes me feel as though the Mandir has more of an interest in making Hinduism superficially palatable to the UK population rather than really providing a place where the curious and faithful alike can get a better and deeper sense of the true meanings of Hinduism. Although I may not like it, the wall is proof that this particular mandir does a good job (of superficially) getting its name out there and interacting with the community around it and indeed the nation’s leaders. While I understand that not every Hindu temple has the resources or inclination to do this, the fact that such a large one manages to do this can be seen as proof that Hinduism is on track to do better rather than worse in acculturation. If there’s anything working against Hindus on that front, it’s likely current population. Hindus were only 1% of the UK population in 2001 (which really surprises me) and this might be detrimental to the population’s visibility within the country.

Sikhs appear to face a few unique challenges to acculturating. The first of which is dress, which is more distinctively strict (at least among devoted Sikhs) than in Hinduism or Islam. While I think it is certainly possible to acculturate with strict religious dress, some groups in history (Jewish immigrants on the Lower East Side, for instance) have relaxed religious dress as sort of the first step to full scale integration into their new nation. If this would also be true for Sikhs, it will have the negative side effect of forcing individual Sikhs to choose devotion to religion or the possible benefits of acculturation, and perhaps put a greater gulf between the older and younger generation of Sikhs (which if we are to believe our tour guide Mr. Singh, is already there). I’d like to do a bit of research into the Sikh population as a whole in Britain, perhaps to see if there’s a guardwara in London that serves a similar kind of function as the Mandir does (in terms of outreach). If so, that would likely be beneficial for them in terms of becoming part of getting Sikhism in the national consciousness. The Southall guardwara seemed less used to public relations and (while in a diverse community) seems a bit cut off from the whole of London.

Although we haven’t discussed them in a bit and didn’t get the chance to go to a mosque, I felt the need to mention Muslims in Britain and where they may fit into all of this. Muslims, too, have a unique problem as evidenced by the cover of last night’s evening papers.  British Muslims, though they make up the largest share of the population among these three religions, seem to mostly get in the papers in relation to extremism or terrorism. Over the weekend, there were violent protests of Islamic fundamentalism in Birmingham which led to ninety arrests (it’s unknown if the protesters or counter-protesters started the violence, but unfortunately it looks as though it all might happen again). Our reading from about a week and a half ago about police and national relations with the Muslim community mentions that one of the scariest things to many Britons about 7/7 was that one of the planners spoke in his tape with a broad Yorkshire accent, making British Muslims to some seem like the frighteningly hidden enemy within.

That same article outlined ways to improve relations between Muslims and national institutions like the police and the press through mutual respect and cooperation. Hopefully this will come about. Working for Muslims, although I’m not sure of the more recent immigration trends, is that they make up a slightly larger percentage of the population, closer to three percent than the one percent of Hindus and Sikhs. Muslims have already made large parts of the bigger English cities (London and Birmingham, for example) their own, so they likely don’t have the exposure problem Sikhs and Hindus might. Now it’s just a matter of getting better exposure. Predicting acculturation into a new national identity is always tricky, and without foreknowledge of events and immigration trends I won’t bet on any of these three groups to be there first. Each seems to have unique advantages and challenges, and how each community will manage them doesn’t yet seem clear to me.

Over the past few days we have visited both a Sikh Gudwara and a Hindu Mandir, each of which presented very different public images and provided very different experiences. At the Sikh Gudwara we were met awkwardly by a man who led the female members of the group out of the entrance and back inside through a side door where we were instructed to remove our shoes and wash our hands. I found this entrance uncomfortable. On the other hand, when we visited the Hindu Mandir, we were able to enter together as a group of men and women. However, we all entered together through a  metal detector with security guards surrounding us and x-ray machines for our pocket items. At the Gudwara were waited about 30 minutes before a man welcomed us and gave us a rather informal tour and presentation on Sikhism. At the Mandir we began our planned, scheduled, and timed tour as soon as we stepped into the temple. Both these religions use different methods of dealing with their place in British society. But both find that the best way is openness to outsiders.

While our Sikh guide seemed optimistic about future harmony between the “British” and the Sikh community, the BBC religion page on Sikhism tells a less hopeful one. In an interview posted on the site with Sody Singh Kahlon, a second generation Sikh, Kahlon says, “Seventeenth century India, Mogul emperors butcher and mutilate to curb Sikh popularity. Twenty-first century Britain, western influences butcher and mutilate Sikh identity.” According to Kaholn, he spent most of his childhood defending himself and his Sikh identity against bullies of all ages, sometimes even his teachers. In Tarquin Hall’s Salaam Brick Lane, we see the way looking different can lead to becoming an easy target for violence. From his window, Hall describes the violence he sees and the lack of assistance even from law enforcement.

So it’s not surprising to hear Kahlon note the pressure Sihks feel to conform to the western identity. He says, “it is a well known fact that scores of western Sikhs are visiting the barbers and abandoning their identity to look like the majority. But those who denounce the Sikh identity are conveniently overlooking the first step in being a Sikh – i.e. to accept the Guru’s instructions and wear the ordained Sikh uniform.” Kaholn continues throughout the interview to highlight the tension between “British” culture and identity and his own religious identity. But ultimately he ends the interview by explaining, “I wear my turban out of love for my faith and I am proud to stand out from the crowd as a Sikh.”

On the other hand, Hinduism allows for a little more blending in. But yet, when I entered thought the metal detectors I couldn’t help thinking why? Perhaps they were one of the greatest symbols of Hinduism’s ability to mix, coexist, and eventually find a place in British culture. If Hinduism is accepted, and welcomed, why does it need so much protection? Yes of course, the Mandir we visited is a he tourist attraction. But so is St. Paul’s, and there were no metal detectors there. According to the BBC Religion page on Hinduism, this religion follows the idea of karma, birth death and rebirth based on good or bad deeds done in life and it is polytheistic with a center on one supreme being. So when we visited the Mandir I expected to see the images or icons of many various gods—which I did—but what I was not expecting was the degree to which they worshiped their spiritual leader, the inspirer, Pramukh Swami Maharaj. There were cardboard cutouts, photographs, and other images of this man all over the Mandir, even on the alters alongside their gods. This was the most surprising thing to me. The man is still just a man, despite his training, yet the guide spoke about him in such a godly way, and his images is worshiped, it seem to me that the was elevated to god-status, which was not evident from the BBC page.

In terms of coping with British culture, the BBC page did provide one interesting thing. It was a small section on the caste system, which is central still to Indian culture, despite the struggle against it. The section explained that in large cities the caste system had almost disappeared. But, the system did still offer a sense of community to the Indian people. In most western societies, a caste system is looked down on and seen as unequal. But, in many ways the caste system fits the classist prejudice that we have studied in Britain. British classism is essentially America’s racism.

Will or how these religions fit into British culture is hard to say. In many ways Kahlon exemplifies the British man of a foreign religion. He refuses to give his religious identity up, but constantly questions his decision when faced with persecution. And there will always be persecution. Hopefully religious difference will become so common that one different religion can no longer be singled out. But until then, people will always fear what is unfamiliar to them. In that way, the open attitude of both places of worship is the only way that religious tolerance can ever be achieved.

Over the past few days we had the opportunity to visit Sikh and Hindu holy places.  Both were quite eye-opening in regard to immigration, identity and to us as a group in general.  I have to start by saying that I won’t deny that both faiths are quite distinct and different from one another, but both also share the goal of trying to fit into life in the UK.  I think this is fairly obvious enough.

Though the Sikh Gurdwara was a much simpler place than the Hindu Temple, it still cost a few million pounds to build.  Like most religions, Sikhs preach helping their fellow man, but surely the cost to build a Gurdwara could have been substantially reduced to help others.  One could argue that the Gurdwara brings a sense of community to the area, but what would be wrong with cheaper building?  I’m sure that the individuals who donated money to build the Gurdwara were not thinking about the recognition they would receive from the community for doing so…but then again practicing what you preach has always been a problem for the religious.

Our Sikh guide, though difficult to hear at times, seemed to genuinely believe in what he said.  To me, it appeared as if he was desperately looking for acceptance.  Being in a country where he would probably be seen as an outsider, the Sikh guide just wanted to fit in.  I found it interesting when he said something along the lines of “I wish for the day when a person can see Sikh in an airport and recognize that he is just a Sikh.”  It was a nice thought, but one that probably won’t happen because it is unrealistic.  People need to label things and each other; it’s part of the human condition to have insiders and outsiders.

The Hindu Temple also gave me the impression of a religion and culture trying to fit into life in the UK.  Whereas the Sikh Gurdwara took a “simpler” approach, the Hindu Temple, as National Geographic put it, was a “London landmark.”  Its enormous size, Italian marble and Bulgarian limestone made this quite evident.  One thing that struck me was the pompous nature which seemed to pervade throughout the entire structure.  The exhibition really brought this to the forefront by showing multiple times how Hindus did this or that before the person (European for the most part) we usually associate with a particular invention or discovery did.  That really turned me off quite a bit and I don’t think it is a good idea to act so pretentiously if you are looking for acceptance.

One problem I had this both trips was that we went as a large group.  At the Sikh Gurdwara we all had to wear scarves, but no one knew the proper way to wear them.  I think everyone (jokingly and with no malicious intent) fooled around with ways to wear the scarf.  For me, if I was a Sikh and saw that I would feel quite disrespected.  Another problem I had was that at both holy places we had to show “respect” (i.e. bow/take part) in their prayer halls.  I think if we just simply observed it would have been much more respectful.

Jumping to the BBC Religion and Ethics site, I found that internet matchmaking sites are becoming quite popular with Sikhs and Hindus and I think this is a great thing.  It’s natural for a human to want to find a proper mate; the internet makes this much easier.  But what I thought was fascinating was the how many people do not have a picture on those matchmaking sites.  This seems like a good idea, but I feel as the world becomes more globalized and as more Sikhs and Hindus “assimilate,” the demand for a picture will be inevitable.

I have been drawn to all things Hindu and Indian since I was about twelve years old. I’m not sure what sparked my interest, nor am I sure what has kept me captivated, but I was quite excited to visit Shri Swaminarayan Mandir.

My first impression of the Mandir was overwhelmingly positive: I fell in love with the architecture and design. I couldn’t help but stare at the elaborate carvings all the way up the walls in the main lobby and wonder how long it took to get everythingso perfect. While admiring the architecture, I also got a more upbeat, “fun” vibe from the entire place: when we waited in the lobby of the gurdwara, we all spoke in hushed tones and were worried about respect and protocol. The chanting over the PA system in the gurdwara as well as the quiet, sometimes hurried passing of Sikhs through the lobby gave the place a somewhat stern vibe, whereas the lobby of the mandir was full of people, loud voices, and movement. This automatically made me (and I believe others in the group) more relaxed, despite the high levels of security outside.

Part of my interest in Hinduism has always been because of the “honour[ing] the whole of creation, see[ing] the presence of God in everything,” as stated in the Understanding Hinduismexhibit and pamphlet at the mandir. However, despite feelinga connection to the foundations of the religion as outlined in the pamphlet and at the beginning of the exhibit, some of the things our guide said as well as the entire “SwaminarayanFaith” section of the exhibit didn’t seem to completely mesh with my previous experiences with and knowledge of Hinduism. Our guide was plain to us that all decisions, from interior decorating to finances, were made by the current Guru, and no one was allowed to question his choices. Additionally, much of the BAPS sect of Hinduism focuses on worshipping someone named Bhagwan Swaminarayan, who was seen as “the incarnation of the Supreme God” back in the 1800’s. If Hindus are supposed to be able to see the presence of God in everything and everyone, I have a hard time understanding why some people are allowed to be venerated and obeyed without question (and have paintings, wax figures, and marble sculptures adorned in gold and surrounded by food all over the mandir). I suppose this is a question I’ve always had about the faith in its entirety: the “ground rules,” so to speak, seem to be grounded in equality and the perception of the holy in everyone and everything, yet historically, women and members of lower castes have not been given equal status in Hindu societies, while some men are allowed to be venerated simply because they have done good deeds and have become ascetics. This leads me to the conclusion that all religions are fundamentally the same, for better or for worse: the basic ground rules and mission statements always promote love, seeking out “truth,” and doing unto others as you wish to be done to yourself, but in practice, these messages often get skewed and can end up in bloody wars, idol worship, and ignorance.

Shifting gears, however, I found the worship in the temple proper to be one of the most enjoyable and upbeat religious services I have ever attended. Though I would have appreciated a bit of a carpet on the marble floor (as well as equal seating status between women and men), the hymn was celebratory and beautiful, everyone was allowed to join in, and after the statues of various had been blessed by fire (at least, I think this is what waving the flames in front of them did), the fire was then allowed to be “enjoyed” by every member of the congregation. I loved the overall joyous mood, the celebratory and upbeat vibe, and the simplicity and general brevity of the entire worship. Some good music, some pyrotechnics, and a chance for everyone to get a bit of the love: that’s my kind of religious service.

The blog prompt asked us to consider the differences between Sikhism and Hinduism and think about how these differences make life in the UK easier or harder for the various devotees for the religions. Much like Anya said in her post, I feel somewhat reluctant to answer this question for several reasons: one, because we have nearly beaten this topic to death in class discussions, previous blog posts, readings, etc, and I feel like we are repeating ourselves and each other. Secondly, since we come from such different places, traditions, and experience and have only cursory knowlege of the religions and life experiences of the people we are observing. I feel a bit presumptuous in sayingthat the Sikhs may have a harder time acclimating to life in the UK because the markers of their religion tend to be worn on heads and faces and arms and their difference is not only marked by the color of their skin. Perhaps I’m not looking deep enough or I wasn’t perceptive enough while attending the gurdwara and the mandir, but I didn’t see much of anything else in the beliefs or customs or houses of worship that would concretely signify greater or lesser ability to adapt to British life between Hindus and Sikhs. When it comes down to it, both religious groups are groups of immigrants from India with different religions, skin colors, foods, customs, rituals, and lifestyles than the white Anglo-Saxons commonly thought of as definitively “British,” and I don’t necessarily think a common Brit judging the foreignness of a Sikh or Hindu would care about the religions’ specific dogmas: they would just see a foreigner.

Do beliefs make a difference in how two faiths adjust to life in the UK? Of course. Hinduism and Sikhism are incredibly different religions. One is polytheistic, the other monotheistic. One needs pages to define its practices and customs, the other a couple sentences. One supports offerings in shrines at the home, the other preaches the importance of meditation. One has a gift shop in a temple, the other a type of soup kitchen. The beliefs of Hinduism are so foreign to the English culture that it seems to attract people by its mystery. It’s something that could go either way; that is, its very noticeable differences could have inspired intense fear or interest in the English people.

Based on the observations of a person who has limited knowledge on the subject, the English seem to have responded to Hinduism in the latter manner. And who wouldn’t be impressed with the absolutely gorgeous images that are associated with the religion? The figures of their gods, the hand-carved wood that adorns their walls, the bright colors of their dress- Hinduism is without a doubt a very eye-pleasing religion. Sikhism, on the other hand dresses, itself in a quite dull manner in comparison. That’s not to say that both places of worship on the outside are anything less than impressive. But the first thing that greets you at the Hindu temple is a gift shop filled with beautiful figurines that you can’t help but want to have. Conversely, the first thing you see at the Sikh temple is a small closet in which you are to place your shoes. It’s more than a little different. This discrepancy in design is more than a difference in taste. A religion that sees gods in many different forms has more to show off than a religion that recognizes only one. That’s quite understandable.

What is a little less understandable is how differently the two religions were accepted into Britain. Both found a presence here in the 1950s with the Indian immigrants came over to find safety after the 1947 Partition of India. Members from both the Sikh and Hindu faiths came to England in hopes to get away from the tension and fighting that was occurring in India. This, of course, is not the sole reason for the influx of Sikhs and Hindus to England but it was definitely a major cause of it. Both the Sikhs and Hindus differ from the traditional English appearance immensely. The Sikhs wear turbans, cannot cut their hair, and tote swords. The Hindus wear bright colors and have bright red dots on their foreheads. The English wear grey and black and, while many carry knives, none too many have a sword at the hip. Though both are clearly different from the traditional British appearance, what is important to note is how the two were affected by prejudice towards that different appearance and how they remember that experience. On the BBC website, the Sikhs mention that they changed their appearance in efforts to be employed in London. The Hindus, on a website from the same news source, make no mention of racial prejudice against them whatsoever. No matter how peaceful a new group of people might be, London has never failed to have a prejudice against a group of newcomers. It’s something that would be nice to not be true but alas in my understanding it’s not. So, why this discrepancy? Both Hindus and Sikhs came from the same land around the same time for similar reasons and yet only one actually mentions the ‘dirty’ details: that there was religious turmoil that needed to be fled, and that once a safe place was found, life was less than instantly easy. I don’t really have an answer for this.

I would argue that there might be certain tendencies that help point to an answer. The Hindu temple tended to be more of a bragging ground to flaunt how grand the religion was. In fact, in the museum, a sign proclaimed that there was absolutely no hypocrisy in the Hindu religion. I applaud them if that’s the case but my observations found this not to be true. Again, I have limited exposure to the religion but one that ignores the huge discrepancy in male and female rights present in the religion might be said to have some hypocrisy lurking around. The Sikh temple by comparison was what it was. It was a huge temple that also made sure to note how much it cost to build; still, it lacked a museum. In place of that and a gift shop, the Sikh gurdwara has a place to feed community members who need a meal. One recognizes the faults with the world while the other seems to cover them up with beautiful decorations. Is that what it takes to fit into British society? Maybe. But even if the Hindu section of the BBC website refuses to recognize that London may have been less than welcoming to them at times, the people who first greeted us when we came to the temple were armed guards. They were quite kind but their smiles couldn’t hide the bulletproof vests they had on. Clearly, both communities have found difficulties in coming to London. How they deal with this prejudice is quite different.

Identity…. What is that? I honestly don’t know. Just thinking about this topic makes my head spin. How do our surroundings influence our identity? Do we identify with something because WE choose or because of outside factors such as religion and education?  From what I absorbed from both the Sikh Gurdwara and the Hindu Mandir both faiths are more of a way of life rather than a religion. Both require life-long practice to even begin to understand. In Sikhism, the devotee is a constant student, trying to liberate the mind from the body to ascend into a state of ultimate knowledge and union with God. In Hinduism the ultimate goal is to break the cycle of life and death to remain eternally in the presence of God. So how do you take responsibility for your Karma in 21^st century Britain? Can you take the religion/lifestyle out of its homeland? Certain customs and rituals have to be tweaked to ‘fit’ in the mainstream British culture. Sikhs are not allowed to carry their defensive swords because of certain laws, and some men have to cut their hair for certain jobs. The restrains of modern society make it more difficult for Sikhs and Hindus to observe certain traditional rites, but does this make them less “religious.” Personally, I don’t think so. When you are forced to adapt or willingly relocate somewhere else, everything changes, choices are made.

Some people have formed tight communities that don’t even attempt to make ties to their new environment, like the character Mrs. Suri in Salaam Brick Lane. Mrs. Suri and her network of Aunties have created their own version of India within each other’s living rooms. These people seek a comfort zone full of everything they know.  Other people rebel completely and break away form everything they know. The character of Clara in White Teeth completely turns her back on her Jehovah’s Witness background (and her mother) and severs all ties with her former life. Either way, a choice was made. I don’t light Shabbat candles every Friday night… does that make me a bad Jew? I still believe in what in God and I pray in my own way. I have adapted to my situation and made choices. You do what you think is right and then run with it. This is religion for the 21^st century.  So what about tradition and education for the younger generations? I’m all for it… I think that both the Gurdwara and the Mandir have excellent education and community centers. The Mandir especially has gone above and beyond to provide the children in the area with a top-notch secular education as well as a religious education on the Hindu faith. Learning the traditions of your ancestors is wonderful, and it is important to remember the past. But ultimately, I think it is up to each individual person to decide his or her identity (whatever that may mean). Are you Hindu and British? Sikh and Welsh? Can you be both? Change is hard, but you can either resist or adapt.

I hope I will live to see the day when the world accepts everyone’s religion but right now that does not seem likely. People will keep being prejudiced and ignorant until they are otherwise educated on the subject. However, as Sikhism teaches us, this is a momentous obstacle. The Gurwara and the Mandir are helping the process by opening their sacred places to visitors off all backgrounds. Both faiths seem willing to teach outsiders and I felt that I received a warm welcome from both establishments. When you live in the modern UK adjustments have to be made due to secular laws. However, you are still free to practice whatever it is you believe. I still am not sure as to what identity means. All I know is that I have to be true to myself.

Family. I’m not part of a particularly close one. This summer I was fortunate enough to stumble into Issi’s Place where I was adopted into an incredibly quirky and close-knit family of Hasidic Jews in Beechwood, Ohio. At Issi’s- a pizza parlor that keeps kosher- we got into each other’s way in the tiny kitchen, sweated through humid summer days next to the oven, stressed out over wrong orders, yelled at each other for taking too long to close the store, and then sat around for hours afterwards chatting the night away about Israel, Judaism, my life story, their life stories, life in general…It was truly fantastic. I’ve never before really had a home that I yearned for when traveling but the lack of Issi and my co-workers in my everyday life has definitely shown me just how difficult the feeling of homesickness can be to handle. With every kippah-wearing gentleman that passes here in England, I am reminded of the family I have back in a small pizza parlor in Ohio.

Enter the happy part of this story. Yesterday, a friend and I stumbled upon a concert of Klezmer Music that was happening in a beautiful area of Regent’s Park. Upwards of a hundred Hasidic Jews were gathered around a gazebo listening and dancing together. Instantly, a sense of nostalgia that I’ve never experienced before just hit me. In a corner of a park in London, England, a community much like the one I so love in Beechwood, Ohio collected in a preciously familiar fun-loving, care-giving way.

Now, the sentimental part of me can only go on so long before the liberal arts college student in me starts to analyze situations. Many of our readings on London’s history have addressed how immigrant communities are viewed in the city. A few of those readings have compared today’s “outcast” immigrant culture to yesterday’s “outcast” Jewish community. While this may not be the most politically correct of comparisons, it supports an optimism that London will accept the cultures that it seems to be ‘outcasting’ currently. If the same Jewish community that once was separated from the majority of the city can now celebrate a music form that has close ties to its culture in one of the most heavily visited parks in the city then clearly the city can accept what it once rejected so fully. Assuming this progression remains in place, today’s immigrant cultures that seem to be outcasts in London’s society would seem to have light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to. That being said, the hope is that London doesn’t actually continue on in the same vein as it has been. While we should celebrate the fact that the city can and eventually usually does recognize and attempt to better its mistakes, we should actively push for a change to take place to make sure that such segregation never happens in the first place. Yes, it’s great that the city can apologize but wouldn’t it be better if it didn’t have to apologize at all? Wouldn’t it be best if the mistake wasn’t made in the first place?

By birth, I’m not a part of a Jewish community whether it be a secular or incredibly orthodox branch of the religion. This summer showed me that one does not need to be born into a family in order to be a part of it though. Like a family, a city cannot hose whom its members are. Maybe at one point in time this could have happened, ut- thankfully- we are past those days. We now live in an age in which cultures of all different roots are living in the same area. We need to do more than that though. We need to bump into each other, tell a few jokes with one another, and invite each other over for dinner. This may sound a little naïve or wishy-washy but I think the parallel is there. Issi accepted me into a community this summer that I could not have differed more from. He didn’t make me sit in a corner by myself and only speak when be spoken to. I went to the pizza parlor to do more than just work. An outsider both culturally and religiously, I was accepted despite our differences into their conversations and they into mine. London would do well to start doing the same.

     Over my one-pound-fifty take-out lunch that I brought back to the garden, Megan and I discussed last week’s blog topic: identity and immigration. “I just have no idea where I’m going to take this,” I said. “We’ve done so much reading about this already, I just feel like I have nothing new to say.” Megan agreed, saying that she felt as though she had done all the research, knew all the background information, and was just struggling to “find a conclusion.” I think we both really had valid points here.

     It is impossible to form any sort of thesis about identity and immigration in London because of the essence of London. It is, according to one of our Guardian readings on race, “a city with immigrants” rather than “a city of immigrants,” like New York. London is definied by its ever-shifting immigrant populations. If one were to establish some sort of grasp on what immigration means to London today, and what London means to immigrants today, it would shift within a matter of years and become obsolete. Immigration is part of what makes London London, and therefore, there is nothing new to say about it because it has always been this way, and will continue to be.

     Perhaps this blog is too short, perhaps some of you will think it was ill-structured, poorly thought-out or had no new ideas to introduce to the reader. Well, you may be right. However, over-analyzing immigrant populations – identifying where the Afro-Caribbean communites or the Polish communities or the Jewish, Indian, Bangladeshi or Pakistani communities are located – only serves to further isolate these populations from one another and from the rest of British culture. We’ve discussed the topic to death. What we need to do now is look at the issue from a new vantage point, or even better, from no vantage point at all. If we accept immigrants as Londoners, and cease to discuss these populations as separate entities, then the possibility of a new London would be possible.

The notion of ‘identity’ cannot be pinned down as having one definition. For the purpose of this post, I define identity as a socially and personally created label one can embody, shed, defend, create, and mold (not necessarily used at all–or at least not in this order). When used in terms of immigration, the presence of identity can move in one of many ways:

1. Relying on the Traditional and Comfortable

Mrs. Suri, one of the minor characters in Tarquin Hall’s Salaam Brick Lane resides in London, yet she remains solidly committed to the Indian views and traditions regarding marriage. She lives in a city among millions of people from all backgrounds. She does not adapt; she surrounds herself with the familiar. Some would confuse this with stubbornness. Committing to the comfortable is a choice you make when you reflect on your own identity. You can let outside perceptions to mold how you carry yourself, or you can resist. The latter results in a situation similar to that of Mrs. Suri. You stick to your identity you created for yourself long before immigrating to a new place defined by very different identifying features.

2. Voluntary Adaptation

The Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in London has in many ways voluntarily adapted itself as a modern place of worship set several thousand miles away from India and, more importantly, the Ganges River (one of, if not the most important site in Hinduism). They expect non-Hindu visitors to the mandir, as indicated by an extensive exhibit tracing the main tenets of the religion. Certainly, places like St. Paul’s or Westminster Abbey have taken on a revised role as a tourist attraction, but you will not find there a museum describing the history or practices of Christianity; that’s left for the history books. The massive Hindu temple stands out in its relatively modest surroundings (except for a slight view of Wembley Stadium in the distance), so naturally it will garner some attention. The mandir, however modern, does not seem to lose much of its traditional identity. Hinduism thrives there; thousands are said to pray in the building during the day and more so during holy days.

The BBC has a link to some of the other ways Hindus have had to adapt to a new identity in 21^st century, but I am unable to access it on my computer. I suggest taking a look, for it looks informative and will certainly give a much more comprehensive understanding than I can.

3. Hesitatant Adaptation

While the Hindus have voluntarily adapted themselves to modern London, the Sikh community – as understood after a visit to the Gurdwara Sri Guru Singh Sahaba in Southall – has taken some hesitant steps as enforced by British law. For example, one of the five tenets of Sikhism calls for the carrying of a sword for the defense of the weak, justice, and as a representation of God. British law forbids this, so this tenet cannot be fulfilled in 21^st century Britain. A second tenet of Sikhism calls for uncut hair, as to symbolize, in part, one’s comfort with how he/she was physically created by God. For many jobs in Britain, one’s hair must be cut and trimmed, and some Sikhs decide to cut their hair accordingly. They lose part of their identifying features as a Sikh when faced with the new identity demanded of them by surrounding British culture. The gentleman who showed us around the gurdwara expressed his desire for all Sikh men to be allowed to carry their ceremonial swords, for, on that day, the two conflicting identities can coexist without having to forego one or the other.

Post-colonial literature points to this hesitant adaptation, but from a different perspective. Buchi Emecheta’s Second Class Citizen traces the difficulties several Nigerians face when trying to willingly adopt the British culture. Racism, prejudice, and misconceptions form a glass ceiling that essentially blocks the immigrants from moving away from their status as a ‘second-class citizen’. The hesitation can be drawn from the communities themselves or from a host identity defined by prejudice; one party cannot take full blame for the contrast between different peoples.

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The construction of identity in the London of 2009 immediately appears like a forever mixed jumble of different practices, rites, and customs fighting for its own place of comfort. I see it as being in a state of disequilibrium, where the role of prejudice and anti-immigration compete with the openness and accommodating nature of some Londoners. Some want to enjoy their own separate community and their own traditions; others are willing to adapt and let their surroundings mold their identity. Neither is wrong, neither will prevent one from having a fulfilling life.

Whew.

I still question my views on this topic, for it is a dense subject to write about. I look forward to the day I come to some brilliant understanding of identity construction and its adaptation/resistance when facing a new identity. Until then, I remain confused, frustrated, and exhausted.

A great perk about studying abroad in England is that you’re doing just that: studying. Everything we do is a learning opportunity. We constantly are taking note of the interactions between people, what groups of people are present in what area, and conversely what groups of people are absent from what areas. As much as I love this constant state of observation, I can’t help but wonder if sometimes I’m reading too much into situations. About three minutes ago when I started this blog, I planned to write on how different groups of people are treated differently throughout London. I still believe this is true. But in those three minutes, a wonderful thing happened. Space Jam came on! If you don’t remember, the movie involves Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny saving the world from evil aliens. Talk about quality entertainment! Two children from London picked out the flick to watch before their bedtime and, being the mature people that we are, four of my fellow students and I are kindly decided to keep them company (while reciting our favorite lines right along with them). The children can’t be more than nine years old. We are all a little more than double their ages. Yet here we are all sitting around a television enjoying a Saturday night together. As this happens, I’m wondering: just how differently are separate groups of people in London? In its first couple scenes, Space Jam has told us that forced control over others is wrong, that stealing talents and goods from others is wrong, that everyone has something to learn from others, and that everyone has something to teach others- not too shabby for a movie that stars a basketball player and an animated rabbit.  On our visit to a gurdwara, we were told that those who followed  Sikhism believed in lifelong communal learning as well. I in no way mean to belittle Sikhism to the level of Space Jam. I do believe though that the people sitting in the lounge with me are listening to similar messages as those that are delivered in gurdwaras. With such similarities being apparent in mainstream culture and arguably a minority religious belief in London, the separation between these groups is sadly easy to recognize. This may seem paradoxical but I believe it makes sense. Clearly, the mainstream culture and minority cultures claim to believe in similar ideals: communal learning. Yet the London community is separated (making such learning difficult) based off of ethnicity, race, and class. How frustrating! I could understand if these groups’ core values or ideals were so conflicting that problems arose and, therefore, separation made a bit more sense.  But that doesn’t seem to be the case. Some sort of disconnect is present. A misunderstanding between cultures? A hypocrisy in one or both? What accounts for this separation?

There doesn’t seem to be easy answer. Our class discussions have tended to point the finger at the majority culture and for the most point I’ve supported that sentiment. But I don’t know if the answer is really that simple; that is, I don’t think that the mainstream culture holds 100% of the responsibility for the separation that exists between cultures. But Space Jam reminds us that we can all get along in the end if we just communicate with one another instead of ignoring how much we have in common and highlighting our differences. That’s not to say that our differences should be completely erased. The Sikhs have a beautifully unique lifestyle that, in my opinion, shouldn’t be ‘mainstreamed’. But to have a gurdwara all the way in Southall rather than have a felt presence in London, to have Brick Lane be a predominantly Bengali community with few other places in the city where such communities exist, basically to have a separated society is, to me, exactly opposite of what all of these communities teach. Maybe Michael and Bugs need to make another movie for this lesson to be learned. I know I would gladly spend another Saturday night learning from them. But my hope is that the lesson isn’t just taught. Clearly, that is already happening. The hope is that the lesson starts being learned and applied. Maybe I’m reading too much into Space Jam’s influence on London culture. But as a student who is always observing and studying what’s going on in my surroundings, I don’t entirely think that’s the case.