PERSPECTIVE
Out of Africa - A spiritual Safari
It wasn’t the Africa of Livingstone that I discovered, nor was it as hot, dark or mysterious as it is reputed to be. But it was a voyage to remember and to treasure. A project of the New York based Sri Hemkunt Foundation took me there and I added a professional excuse to justify the travel.
Since 1983 the Hemkunt Foundation has sponsored competitions in oral presentations of Punjabi classics by young Sikhs from 7 to 25 years of age. The books or topics pertain to Sikh religion or history. The Foundation provides the books, the young people prepare presentations and compete at local and regional levels. A few selected ones finally participate in an International symposium. There are handsome prizes for the winners and the opportunity to travel and meet their peers from across the world. More importantly, young Sikhs learn a little something about their heritage as do their parents. In 1983, 12 youngsters took part; in 1994, over 1250 registered world-wide. After the gruelling preliminary rounds 32 from Kenya, United States, Canada and United Kingdom competed in the finals at Nairobi July 28-30, 1994.
I got invited as a judge. I have filled those shoes several times earlier as well, but every time it is a humbling experience. Every time I listen to these young people it is with a renewed realization that, at their age, I didn’t know half as much about Sikhism as they do! I learnt anew how tempting it is to judge others - and how difficult. With the young people that I saw, our future is in good hands. Their appreciation of Sikhism is genuine, the curiosity deep and their commitment enviable. S. Shamsher Singh and the Hemkunt Foundation are to be congratulated for putting the program together every year.
I had never been to Africa before so I looked to combine this spiritual journey with professional activity. Luckily I was able to arrange a trip to the Muhimbili Medical Center of the University of Dar-es-Salaam, in Tanzania, as an External Examiner in Anatomy.
After a long, tiring trip from New York, I landed in Dar-es-Salaam, and very quickly experienced the fabled hospitality and kindness of the Sikhs in East Africa. I got there but my bag didn’t. I could buy the clothes I needed but what to do for turbans? I had only the one I was wearing. Luckily, two local Sikhs that I accosted in town promised to help. Sure enough, the next morning at the Hotel desk were two turbans - one black, one white. Sikhs in Africa appear not wear any other color and so from that day I too blended with the local Sikhs. Except that I could not copy their style of turban. Just about every Sikh I met folded his turban in a specific manner and the finished product looked somewhat like the police turban in Punjab. Perhaps that is how the style evolved, for many of the early Sikhs were police officers in Africa. But I could never find a satisfactory explanation for it.
Now of course the police force all over Africa has been Africanized. The Asians run the businesses, but have made almost no inroads into the local political institutions, though they have been there for over 100 years. Almost all the well-to-do businessmen, or professionals are Gujaratis, Borah Muslims or Sikhs. Many of the Indians who left Africa in the political turmoil of the Seventies seem to be returning, but most of them at least keep one leg across the ocean in Canada, United States or Great Britain.
Every arriving person was met at the airport and stayed with a local family. How better to know a people! While taking a stroll, my wife and I met a third generation Kenyan Sikh who insisted on taking us home and welcoming us as if we had known each other all our lives. In a sense we had. Three generations ago, his people had come from Gujranwala, as had mine. The host families drove us around the country, helped us bargain in shopping (the bargaining reminds one of India) and spoiled us, so that a readjustment to life in the United States seems necessary.
I am almost relieved there is no International Competition planned for New York in the near future. Perhaps people would have had the opportunity to forget Nairobi by the time our turn comes around the hospitality of the Kenyan Sikhs would be impossible to reciprocate.
Africa is rightly known for its wild life, big game hunting and beaches, but should also be known for its Gurdwaras. The beaches at Mombasa remind one of Hawaii; the sand is so fine, the water just the right temperature. To have fresh pineapple or coconut on the beach merits experience - not description. One can no longer buy artifacts of ivory, but the ebony carvings remind one of the best of Kashmiri craftsmen.
Safaris took us to National Forests where elephants, giraffes, elands, zebras and lions roam. The animals are free in their natural habitat, the less civilized creature - man - is rightly locked up in a car, van or hot air balloon. To watch from less than 10 feet two lions at breakfast with fresh kill while the sun comes up at dawn leaves a permanent imprint in one’s memory. To see a massive elephant tenderly feed and nudge a several-hundred pound baby-elephant gives one a special appreciation of the pleasures of motherhood. Most memorable, and unlike New York, is to spend a night in the peaceful star-lit night amid the rustling of trees and the calls of the monkeys and assorted birds.
The one Gurdwara in Dar-es-Salaam and four in Nairobi are most impressive. The imposing spacious facilities, with superb rooms for pilgrims clearly speak of an established community with a sense of self and a commitment to others. But a few of the Gurdwaras boldly identify themselves as “Ramgarhia”. It is true that Ramgarhias were the early Sikh settlers in Africa and built them, but I had hoped these distinctions would not be so prominently flaunted. In Tanzania, as well as in Kenya, the natives call Gurdwaras “msikiti Singha” in Swahili, or the mosque of the Singhs. The local Sikh club was named “Simba Club”, simba meaning lion. Nairobi even boasts of Khalsa Schools for boys and girls. Dar-es-Salaam also once had Khalsa Schools but not any more; about twenty years ago the government decreed otherwise and nationalized them. This in spite of the fact that Church-supported schools operate freely. Governments aren’t always logical or consistent.
Among the Gurdwaras in Kenya, the piece de resistance is the one in Makindu, about two hours drive from Nairobi on the road to Mombasa. It deserves attention for many reasons. When the British colonized Kenya, the railroad was built by Indian workers, primarily Sikh. Makindu was halfway to Mombasa and became a center for railroad workers. A Gurdwara was built at the turn of the century, which later went into disuse and disrepair. In 1926 the site as rediscovered and a permanent place built. It is now more than a Gurdwara.
Set in the forest off the main road, the Makindu Gurdwara is the only rest stop for weary motorists on the road to Mombasa. So the Sikh community of Kenya did something special. They built a beautiful edifice and campus. Attached to it is a huge dining facility which provides free langar 24 hours a day. Rooms with beds - several with attached bathrooms - are available for tourists to stay for up to two nights. Everyone in Kenya seems to know of it and most tourists stay to rest and eat. Most are non-Sikhs. There is no charge for this service, but people often donate. Apparently it is run by a consortium of the Nairobi Gurdwaras. How I wish the Gurdwaras in New York too could cooperate in a like manner for a common cause. Now the Sikhs at the Makindu Gurdwara are planning to build an adjoining hospital. The aura at Makindu would calm the most tormented mind; one automatically drifts away from the mundane and towards the spiritual and peaceful.
At the Makindu Gurdwara another thought came to mind. No matter where you go in this world almost every hotel room offers a Bible. The Makindu Gurdwara gives the tourist no information on the religion whose followers provide this unique facility to rest and reciprocate. I am sure visitors would like a small booklet which presents 1) a brief history of the Makindu Gurdwara, 2) something on the Sikh presence in Africa and their contribution to Kenya and 3) a thumbnail account of the Sikh religion. Such a booklet which is available to all tourists who stop there would surely strengthen the Sikh roots in Kenya.
I must also air a pet peeve. As impressive as the Gurdwara buildings are, not one has a decent library on comparative religion or Sikhism. Let me add that this is true of all Gurdwaras that I have seen in the United States as well. I wonder how that can be when we are a religion of the Book.
I wouldn’t know how to acknowledge the many hosts who were so kind. I could name Jaipal Singh in Tanzania, Ajit Kaur Arora and Rajinder Walia in Nairobi, but then how could I not name Baldip Singh Rehal, Inderpal Singh, the Mahajans, Suris or Jasbir Oberoi whom I met after twenty years? The kindness of the Vohras is legendary in Nairobi and with good reason. For that matter, how can I leave out all the friends, old and new, from all over the world who made this trip more than just an African Safari? They made it into a Spiritual Safari as my friend Saran Singh (the editor of Sikh Review) dubbed it.