Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

   As I sit in the Hindu temple observing the religious practices, a sign reads “please observe silence.” 

    To me, there is a very thin line that separates the secular world and a religious world. Such a thin line that it is almost blurred. For me the “real world” seems to overpower the religious world. I can not help but to question whether liberation and equality exist in the “real world” even if religion may not always promote such values. The blur might exist for me because of my complicated story. I grew up in Baku, Azerbaijan with an Islamic family from my mother’s side and a Christian family on my father’s side. I was able to follow Islam religion by attending a Mosque once in a while, following the holidays, and observing my grandmother and my uncle praying for 30 days during Ramadan. Besides such factors, I have never considered my family too religious or “straight laced,”  even before coming to the United States, the influence that the U.S.S.R. had on Azerbaijan allowed me to grow up in a Westernized country, where religion was not the driving force  behind the society. Needless to say, I have not been to a Mosque in over nine years  and since coming to the United States, my grandmother and uncle gave up their “duty” of praying during Ramadan. However, there are many principles that I still follow and believe in and will most likely remain in my life. 

   Traveling to Sikh Gurdwara and  the Hindu temple has proven to be an experience that not only has allowed me to explore Sikhism and Hinduism but allowed me to question how I have interconnected my religion with my daily “real world” and furthermore question whether it is possible to be both religious and still live in a secular world. Therefore, I have tried to research how first and second generations have tried to maintain their religions while living in a very westernized world of England and how certain beliefs and concepts cross that blurred line that makes it impossible for someone like myself to follow strictly one religion. 

   Both, Sikhism and Hinduism have a following in London and England in general which would explain the large structures that were built in order to provide a space for practicing. Both of the religions have extensive histories and have specific worshipping rituals that include praying a few times a day, meditation, holy days, promote non-violence, and encourage continuous learning. One aspect of both religions that stuck out to me was the relationships the Temple, and the Gurdwara to form with younger generations because here is where the blurred line comes into play.

   Upon taking our tours, the topics of abortion, marriage, female and male roles, and liberation ran through my mind. My desire during the tours was to chat with those “youngsters” practicing in the Gurdwara, females who were sitting in the back while males were praying in the front of the Temple, males who are training to become monks and gurus and anyone else who is a first, second, or third generation individual trying to get rid of the blurred line and have their religion and their westernized culture exist together. 

   Although, I was not able to chat with any individuals besides our tour guides, I was able to find a few stories told by Second Generation Sikhs on the BBC website. In many recollections, the Sikhs such as Sody Singh Kahlon, mentioned being an eternal student and scholar. The attitudes of older generations and how they encourage younger generations to maintain their religions differ in Sikhism and Hinduism. When mentioning the “youngsters” during our group tour, it was made clear that the Sikhs encourage their younger generations to adapt as much as they can from the religion while continuing to live in “the real world” that is now England. Their focus is to pass on as many of their religious teachings as possible but the elders are also willing to learn from younger generations who live their lives in the western world. Although geographically the Gurdwara was separated from Central London, it seemed that their religion is accepting of changes, of equality of women and men praying in the same space. 

   The Hindu concepts seemed to be true original roots of caste systems, gurus, cycles of birth, death, and rebirth. When it comes to the younger generations, Hindus still seem to hold men in a higher position than they do women. My conclusion is based on the fact that men and women were separated in the praying room, with men sitting in the front of the room and being allowed to offer their prayers to Gods first while women follow. Also, the young men, no matter what generation, are encouraged to become priests and then follow on to hopefully become monks. Instead of incorporating their current worlds with their religion, the men are encouraged to follow their religion strictly. And here is when the line presents itself for me. Certain ethics in Hinduism seems to cloud over my “real world” believes such as into pro-choice when it comes to abortion, in the right to pick your own partner in marriage. How can one separate their daily beliefs while still following their religion? Is there a way to separate praising God and living your daily life? 

   I am sure adjusting to the life in a Westernized country such as England is tough, especially for the first generations that are caught between their ethics and ethics of their parents. As of now, I have been choosing the “real world,” over the religious world because I have not found a way to interconnect the two worlds together. I do have a lot of respect for those individuals who have found a way to cross the blurred line and be happy.

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.

“You’re sacred space is where you can find yourself over and over again.” (Joseph Campell)

The concept of space, so immense, so undefined. As intriguing as one may be with the notion of sacred spaces, either physical or internal, it is difficult to grasp the full idea of what it means to feel a part of a specific space, to immerse oneself in it.

As we entered the Gudwara, internally, I had just opened the door to a room of confusion, although physically I was right where I was supposed to be. The ability to learn extensively in moments of discomfort is something I attempt to take advantage of,  but for some reason I was unable to keep an open mind. Throughout our tour, I felt a sense of indifference, not just because I am not a religious individual in any way, but also because I like to keep myself at a distance from spaces that with hold religious power over a community. Surprisingly, my experience at St.Paul’s was not in any way similar to the Gudwara’s. At St.Pauls’ I felt as if I was entering a museum, a sacred place of historical exhibition instead of worship. In comparison to Westminster Abbey, St.Pauls’ was less scary (maybe because there aren’t 3000 bodies buried there).   I think tourism has completely changed the dynamic of these sacred spaces, converting them into exhibits for the general public.

So what differs a museum from a place of worship? In London, I think museums as well as churches are both worshipped in their own ways. We have visited multiple museums and various churches in our time in London, where I have realized that it takes more than just a space to create a place of worship, it takes the masses, the worshippers, to raise a space to a state of “holy-ness.” When we have class at the Victoria Gardens at Regents Park, the patch of grass surrounding us, the space chosen for our discussions is our sacred space for that moment; when we enter it, we become a part of it, not just literally but also metaphorically.

When we entered the Gudwara, most of us were encountered with unknown territory, strange feelings awakened. Although, this space was not at all a tourist attraction, our presence in that place made it feel like another museum exhibit, like something to study, observe and take notes on for future reference… not a place of sacred worshiping. Isn’t it interesting how this concept of space dominates our everyday lives, yet it is so undefined.

Indefinitely, whatever you’re sacred space is, make it yours. Personalize it, love it, breath it, worship it… define it for yourself, in the hopes that you’ll continue to find yourself in that place over and over again.

I don’t consider identity to be one’s race, religion, gender, colour, sexual preference, or class. These are all things that other people use to identify and classify other people. For example, I would define my identity by who I am rather than what I am. I may be a white middle-class female but that is only what I am defined as, not who I am as a person. It is often hard for people to distinguish who people are from what they are, because the who is a lot harder to define than the what.

I believe that a lot of problems arise from people confusing the ‘what’ with the ‘who’. Racism results from people judging others by ‘what’ they are rather than ‘who’ they are. A second generation Bangladeshi like Magid, from Zadie Smith’s White Teeth, is unable to be fully accepted into British culture because of his skin color, despite the fact that he was raised in England and has lost most of his ties with his Bangladeshi culture. He and others like him are discriminated against because the dominant culture make assumptions about who he is based on how he looks. For this reason Magid turns to an Islamic Radical group for support and acceptance.

Stereotypes are vehicles that people use when confusing what someone is with who they are. Yesterday when we all went to visit the Gurdwara I had some preconcived notions about what I thought Sikhs would be like; I thought they would be sexist, conservative, closed minded, and discriminating. Once I began to listen to our guide speak I realized that I could not be more wrong. By getting to know him, even just for a short time, I was able to see past what his is (Sikh) and past all the stereotypes that I associated with his religion, and learn who he is. I feel that in order for there to be more tolerance in this world more people need to step out of their comfort zone and realize that what a person is is not who they are, and furthermore it is not their identity.