Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

After visiting two different temples and observed two different cultural groups in their own religious institutions, we must wonder, how are we going to think of them? We must now think about our small overt participant observation because the politics of representation are extremely important. Our impressions of Catholicism, Sikhism and Hinduism should not the participants, the Other, as exotic, or a romanticized version of them. Although it is true that we are always somewhat biased, we can make the effort of being less so by informing ourselves, carefully listening, and above all, observing in a critical way.

Karl Marx once said that religion is the opium of the people. Anthropology however, has said that while religion is a social institution that appeals to every individual in a society, each one at the same time makes his or her own meaning of religion. Religion, as a component of culture, that is, the practice of beliefs, is always changing. It adapts to the passing of time, and especially to globalization processes. England is one of the best examples to understand how cultural practices adapt in a different way when in a different country. What I considered to be the most valuable lesson of the whole experience, is actually proving by looking these places of worship, that different religions, from a sociological standpoint, are the same. 

On the last three days here in London, we saw how religion has moved many people throughout the centuries, starting in Oxford University, the birthplace of the British academia, which was founded by monks, and where every College had its own chapel. To this day, the chapel of your college remains the most important place of congregation if you are a student at Oxford. Even in what we consider the “secular Western world”, religion is still very much important.

In the case of the Sikh and Hindu temples, what struck me the most were our guides. The discourse was so alike in so many ways. It always amazes me how every religion claims to provide the ideal lifestyle, and to appeal to everyone across society, and to be the most comprehensive one. It is clear that every people wants to be “the chosen people”. 

Some people think that we are always biased. Following many social scientists, I will claim that we must locate ourselves in the context in which we are observing our subject and not think that our experience can be representative of The Sikh, or The Hindus. Who are these guides? What has their experience been with their religion? Would we be observing different cultural practices in a Hindu temple in Nairobi or some other city in another country? In that sense, I wish we could have learnt more about how the cultural practices of these religions have adapted in time, and to the city of London. But for that, further research would be required.

Even though I am one, I rarely feel like a tourist in London. Perhaps the fact that there are hundreds of other tourists makes me feel a bit less conspicuous when I snap photos of St. Paul’s and Big Ben, or perhaps it’s because I truly feel like I’m getting to know this city bit by bit (I have a good chunk of the Tube map in my head now, which amazes me). I readily call London, Bloomsbury, and the Arran House “home” in a way I adamantly refuse to label Carlisle and Dickinson, and when I helped an American couple from California find their way on the Tube the other day, they asked if I lived here, and I automatically answered yes but didn’t realize what I had said until ten minutes later. Despite the fact that we’re often looked at on the Tube or the street for being loud and having different accents, and even though we will probably all be known as “the American” in our various social circles in Norwich, I feel more at home in London than I have ever felt outside of my Connecticut bubble.

Yesterday, however, I felt like a tourist and an outsider for the first time in a while. Southall immediately felt foreign the second I got off the train. Perhaps this is because of my relative lack of experience with England outside of greater London, or perhaps it was because of the street signs and advertisements in Urdu, but Southall only felt more foreign the farther we got into it. Even just walking down the street, I felt that we were being looked at and wondered about much more closely and obviously than we often are around Tottenham Court Road, for example. From what I’ve paid attention to, many Brits will hear a bunch of loud young adults with American accents walking down the pavement, and they seem to give us a cursory glance when they’re sure we’re not looking before walking on. In Southall, on the street as well as in the gurdwara itself, people didn’t seem to hide their blatant staring at our group. This didn’t feel unfriendly, necessarily, or undeserved: Southall isn’t exactly an area that sees a lot of tourists, especially young, mostly white Americans, and I bet many were wondering why the hell we had reason to come to Southall. In the gurdwara, people didn’t seem to hide their curiosity whatsoever, but this time I felt a slight embarrassment: even though we were all being respectful and obeying their customs, I wondered what they thought of us being there and if they felt mocked by our curiosity, our sometimes comical scarf-wearing, and our close observation. I felt as though we might be intruding into their sacred space, perhaps one of the few places in Britain where they are among their own kind and NOT the outsiders, simply by being there and treating the gurdwara like it was another tourist stop on the tour of England and as a space that does double-duty as a museum as well as a space of worship like Westminster Abbey or St. Paul’s.

As we discussed in class today, for many of us, being an outsider is an infrequent and uncomfortable experience, but I wholeheartedly agree with such experiences being beneficial, educational, and healthy. However, after feeling like a complete outsider for the first time in a while, I found myself reflecting on how the gurdwara is probably one of the only places in the area where the Sikhs aren’t the outsiders and aren’t given strange looks for having turbans and beards. For the hour or however long they’re in the gurdwara, they are able to be themselves and focus on what matters most to them, but in the outside world, where they’re not even allowed to participate fully in the requirements of their religion (since they aren’t allowed to carry knives/swords, and in some professions, might not be able to have long hair or beards), they are constantly bombarded with strange looks and being “foreign” just because of the way they look. I wonder what this does to a Sikh’s identity, especially through the various generations and levels of devoutness. We have read several books on the concepts of being an immigrant and a permanent outsider in England, but since Sikhs can perhaps stick out even MORE due to the physical markers of their religion. I also think that identity varies from individual to individual, even though two might come from the same place at the same age and live in the same new environment, and I regret not asking our guide more about the Sikh identity in a secular, western community.

For a week and a half I’ve been telling people that St. Paul’s is my favorite building in London, even though I’d yet to go inside. I think it’s something about how it fits snugly in the city skyline, and yet at the same time seems totally foreign and unique. I prefer it to Big Ben as the quintessential symbol of downtown London and prefer it to Westminster Abbey as a church. Even if those photos of the dome standing tall during the blitz were doctored for propaganda purposes, they move me because even today I can get a sense of how inspiring they must have been to Londoners and indeed all Brits.

BBC image of St. Paul's in the blitz

That said, I was indeed impressed by the inside when I had a chance to see it. Although it’s certainly ornate, it seemed simpler and less cluttered than Westminster Abbey. The inherent awkwardness of St. Paul’s is that it has become the church most associated with elaborate monuments and graves to military men, and therefore is seen as glorifying war. I thought it was interesting that the hourly intercom prayer focused mostly on making the world a more peaceful place, seemingly to counteract the church’s obvious image. Anyone else notice that?

In retrospect I’d rather have climbed up to the dome (next time I will) but instead I chose to go down to the crypt to hear a little more from John. I really admire John’s ability to do what he does as well as he does it. The best I can describe what he does so well is point out the interesting minutiae while at the same time linking that back to an overall narrative which gives one an impression of what the particular place really means as a whole. Most tours, both audio and human, just don’t achieve this.

Staying for choral evensong was a good choice, although we should have sat up with the congregation rather than back with the tourists to really hear the choir sing. Nonetheless, the service was something to behold both visually and sonically. An organ and a great small choir in an amazing space is just about as good a musical experience as can be had, I think. The one problem I had with the experience was tourists just milling about the sides of the church during the service. During mass at Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome I saw this, too, and couldn’t believe people felt comfortable doing it. I understand why St. Paul’s (and the Abbey, for that matter) are and should be viewed as a museum to British history and religion, but I feel there should be times when it is a museum only and times when it is a place of worship only.

Not for reason of comparison, but just for the sake of convenience, I’d also like to add my thoughts on the guardwara (which we were lucky enough to not have to treat like a museum). I was glad to have a guide who was eager to talk to us about his faith but was not a rehearsed guide. This gave us a chance for a more candid exchange and probably a much more authentic experience. I noticed how, twice, other Sikhs just came up to hear what he had to say to us about Sikhism (and they just seemed interested, not wanting to correct him or know who we were).

One thing I should have mentioned this morning, during our brief discussion of St. Paul’s and the guardwara and Christianity and Sikhism, was that Sikhism is a religion that has a history of religious violence (despite its very pacifistic core). Some of you may have noticed a sign yesterday asking Sikhs to remember those who died in Operation Blue Star on its 25th anniversary. This was an operation ordered by Indian PM Indira Gandhi against Punjabi Sikh separatists who were amassing weapons in a temple. In the wake of Blue Star, Indira Gandhi was assassinated by her Sikh bodyguards. Sikhs, like members of other religions, struggle with when to take up the sword in defense of what they believe to be justice and honor and when to turn the other cheek, so to speak.

I was very excited about today because I knew I would love visiting a Sikh temple and walking in an almost entirely South Asian residential district. To me, the whole experience was fascinating because of many reasons. (The main one though is that I love playing “the anthropologist girl” who does participan observation and tries to go native at a Sikh temple!)  

I adore the movie “Bend It Like Beckham”, which tells the story about a girl who is not allowed to play football because she is daughter of orthodox Sikh. Southall was in fact very much like the neighborhood they show in the movie, Hounslow, also in West London, right next to Heathrow Airport. I always enjoy movies that show how a minority lives within a globalized city. I think “Bend It Like Beckham” does a great job in reflecting a typical Sikh family living in London, in that it is, like everything else, very conflictive and with different meanings to each member of the family.

Second, I always enjoy visiting places of worship that are not from my religion, because it is then when I realize how alike human beings are. The experience of visiting a Sikh temple was both exotic yet familiar at the same time. While I was walking I was in my head comparing the synagogue I go to in Argentina, St. Paul’s cathedral, and the Sikh temple we were visiting. Temples are very similar no matter what religion; they are located in a central area, they have big wide spaces, an altar, people inside them behave in a similar way, etc.  It was easier for me to find similarities than differences between Sikhism and Judaism. I am not going to point at the similarities because monotheistic religions are very similar per se, but I do want to concentrate in the temple itself and the experiences we had today. For example, as soon as we came in, we had to wash our hands, which is just what religious Jewish people do. Then I observed a man writing the daily prayer. Again, this in Judaism would be the parasha, or the Bible story of the week. Also, I saw a very interesting brochure of a Sikh school that is opening soon, which will teach its students both the British curricula and basic foundations of the Sikh religion as well as Punjabi. Is this very different from the Jewish school I went to, in which I learnt both the history of Israel and Argentina? The Sikh commemorate a terrible fire attack to a temple that happened a few years back, while the Jews in Argentina still remember the terrorist attack to AMIA (Argentine Mutual Israelite Association) fifteen years ago. London can have orthodox people and Salman Rushdie. Same thing in Argentina, where some very prominent Jews are liberal and very left wing, wile others (a worryingly increasing number) are orthodox Lubavitch. It is amazing how minorities act the exact same way all over the world.

I am Jewish but could not be more atheist and that is why is is extremely difficult for me to listen to someone who I consider to be orthodox. The man who received us in the temple was extremely nice, but I just cannot and I don’t think will ever understand how he can believe in the things he preaches. Listening to him just made me think: is he actually listening to the things he is saying? How many dogmas can a person say in one sentence? I do not mean to offend anyone by what I am writing, but it’s just that I am so close minded about these things due to my over rationalist and Western upbringing, that I find it hard to listen about how chanting can bring internal peace and truth. Still, I listen, because that is when I think that yes, all people are the same, yet at the same time, they are very different.

We have been lucky enough to not only focus on the history of this city but to also have the opportunity to gain knowledge about the peoples and their culture. More specifically, I have to come to be quite fascinated with the different religions of London. Not only is this a immigrant filled city, but it is extremely diverse group of organized religious views.

Today we had the amazing chance to visit Saint Paul’s Cathedral. I can only speak for myself, but I have yet to see a building radiate such an enormous amount of beauty. First of all I had no idea it was such a large cathedral. I had only seen the back end closest to the tube entrance, but when we walked around to the front, I was overcome by its stature and grace. I was so happy to know we would be guided by Mr. John again. I think he adds so much excitement to history, and his passion for his country really shines through.

Walking through the church, I was utterly amazed by the detail, and the sparkle. You don’t know me well unless you know I love anything pink, princessy or sparkly! This in particular fell well under the “sparkly” category. While writing this post, I still am not capable of comprehending how large and how ornate each aspect of the cathedral is. It is truly a work of art.

I was very grateful for the chance to go to the top of the dome. Beautiful, gorgeous, incredible; these words do not come close to describing how mesmerizing this view was. We have covered so much space, so many museums, and so many feelings, but now, at the top of a monument so dear to London, we realize how much of the unknown still awaits our arrival. Can we possibly learn to understand this city in only a months time?

After our tour, a few of us decided to stay for the nights Evensong. What an incredible expereience. I myself have always enjoyed religious related musical performances, but this was unlike anything I have ever seen. We were unable to clearly hear the words, however the building and organ created such a lovely atmosphere it was almost impossible to not feel overcome by emotion.

I feel very lucky to be able to view these churches, and embrace the different religions of London. I can’t wait to go to the Mosque.!!

As I’ve said to some of you in conversation, I don’t consider myself to be a very religious person but I am rather spiritual. Visiting Westminster Abbey today was INCREDIBLE, and so I really wanted to attend Evensong since I’ve never experienced an entire mass in song.  Unfortunately, the choir was not available this evening but we stayed for Evening Prayer instead.  The whole church “process” felt familiar to me, and was thus comforting.  Much of the ritual and most of the prayers were exactly the same, and so I enjoyed having a small taste of home.

I think that religion can either be one of the most unifying or one of the most dividing factors between cultures, depending on how you look at it.  For cultures that subscribe to entirely different religions, I’m sure it’s a difficult obstacle to overcome and that agreement or even healthy debate is nearly impossible because it’s such an emotionally and personally charged subject.  However, I come from a varied background (I grew up in a Reformed Church, then a Nondenominational Church, went to a Catholic youth group, work at a Protestant summer camp, and agree with many ideas from other religions such as Buddhism).  Therefore, I find it easy to notice details or concepts within almost any religion that I can identify with.  Westminster Abbey’s service was so similar to Catholic services I’ve attended, and I remembered a homily from the United States in which the priest said that “everybody meets in the Eucharist.”  Even though the people I sat with during the service in London were strangers, from assumedly varied backgrounds, we experienced the same ceremony together.  I found it to be a bonding experience, because even if we didn’t all necessary believe the same things or wholeheartedly agree on all the things stated, we all attended and stayed for the entire service collectively.  Maybe I’m alone here, but I found that somewhat comforting.

I understand that religion can be a touchy subject, but it is important to me and I enjoy knowing that it can (and did) carry over between my home in America and my new experience in London.

After a delightful performance by E.L.F. trio in St. Martin in-the-Fields, I walked over to the National Gallery with some classmates. I was about to enter a museum with one of the most extensive collections of artwork from the 13^th to early 20^th centuries, and I was in heaven. As an art history major, art museums, especially one as large as this one, make me feel like a kid in a candy store. Our group made a plan to meet up at 4pm and so Kelley and I headed off to the Sainsbury Wing to investigate paintings from the 13^th to 15^th century. Although I prefer modern art, I found the works in this section very moving. Of course, they all had a Christian connotation and most of them were placed in a church at one time as an altarpiece or as part of a triptych. As a Reform Jew, I really don’t know much about Christianity outside of the Old Testament; however, everyone can appreciate the beauty of these paintings and the emotions they evoke. After passing through room after room of the Virgin Mary and Christ I began to wonder, why is the Virgin always depicted in blue robes? The blue is a similar shade in every painting, somewhere in between the color of a clear sky at dusk and a robin’s egg. Naturally, I looked it up when I returned to the Arran House. Some of the answers I found ranged from the ridiculous “because it’s her favorite color” to the more academic explanation, “blue was the color Byzantine empresses wore.” All I can say is that the particular shade of blue is a color I’ve only ever seen in these paintings, so I guess I’ll leave it as ‘the Virgin Blue.’

            As we moved through the rest of the museum I was overcome with joy… I was seeing some of my favorite lessons come to life. When you see a picture that you study in your textbook or in a slide comes to life, it’s like seeing it for the first time all over again. Major players like Masaccio, Titian, Raphael and Bellini were all here. It was hard for me to believe that I was actually standing in front of THE Aronlfini Wedding Portrait by Jan van Eyck. This paining first began my love affair with the Dutch school of painters and semiotics…. now I was here, in front of it. I could actually see the dog (for fidelity), the removed shoes (the marriage as a religious sacrament), and the reflection of Van Eyck himself in the mirror along with the inscription “van Eyck was here.” Also, for anyone who is interested, his bride is NOT pregnant. She is simply wearing the style of dress that was popular at this time period. I was even able to see Holbein’s The Ambassadors (1533) and walk across the room to see the anamorphic perspective skull.

            However, when I walked into the 19^th and early 20^th century gallery my heart really began to race. As Kelly will attest, I did audibly gasp when I saw Gauguin’s Still Life with Mangoes (1891-6). This section was by far my favorite. The late nineteenth century painters were the first school to paint modernity; they disregarded all the set rules, added some color and painted the world around them rather than the bible or portraits. Degas, van Gogh, Cezanne, each one brought paining to a new place either with subject matter, texture or color. The Degas gallery was especially moving. I am fascinated with his series that captures the private movements in women’s lives. He takes everyday scenes intimate such as a woman drying herself off after a bath or having her hair combed and turns it into a story for the viewer. We are left wondering, who is she? What is she doing? Why?

            Of course, I could not make it through the entire gallery in one day. So I plan on returning soon to take in the 17^th century (including one of my absolute favorites, Vermeer) and to revisit the early-modern painters. Everyone should visit the National Gallery, regardless of his or her “art background.” It really is the crown jewel in the world of art museums.  I anyone wants to come back with me, please let me know.