Volume 4 - Chapter 33

[Guest guest]

Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

Volume 4, Chapter 33

 

April 20 - May 14, 2003

 

 

The last three weeks of the preaching tour in America were particularly

rigorous. Sri Prahlad and I traveled to numerous temples, spending just

hours in some while in others holding three programs a day for a week. I

never took rest before midnight. The pace was so intense that on one

occasion while giving an arrival address, I forgot the name of the town. I

began my talk by saying, "I am very happy to be here in . . ." I then paused

as I tried to remember where it was we had arrived, and Sri Prahlad had to

quickly help me recall. Constant travel, late-night programs, and irregular

sleep wore me down to where he also had to help me from the floor after

paying obeisances or to climb the stairs of an apartment building.

 

The austerities of a traveling preacher are offset, however, by the nectar

of spreading Krsna consciousness and seeing conditioned souls come in

contact with devotional service for the first time. There is always

something special about the first time - the first time we meet someone who

becomes a close friend, the first time we venture somewhere, the first time

we hear a particular song. How much more this is true with our first steps

in Krsna consciousness. Srila Rupa Goswami explains in Nectar of Devotion

that contact with devotional service brings immediate relief from all kinds

of material distress, is the beginning of auspiciousness, and automatically

puts one in touch with transcendental pleasure.

 

I was blessed to see his words come true many times during our travels in

America. At one program in Albany, New York, I met a 22-year-old woman who

was visiting the temple for the first time. Seeing her sitting nervously on

the side as the devotees prepared the microphone for my lecture, I spoke a

few words to her to make her feel more comfortable. I noted that she

listened attentively during my talk and danced enthusiastically in the

kirtan afterwards. Before leaving I gave her my garland and a book, and when

she expressed a desire to chant japa I gave her a set of beads and showed

her how to chant. Her letter to the devotees the next day was worth all the

austerities I performed in America:

 

"The traveling preacher who visited your center made such a wonderful

impression on me. No doubt you saw me cry more than once during last night's

proceedings. I did not deserve his presents, but please tell him I chanted

my first round of Krsna beads this morning at 7am, just after waking up. I

keep the beads and flower garland hanging above my bed. I am happier now

than I have been in many years. I was so scared at first, but he came right

up to me and spoke to me as if I belonged there. And I do feel that I now

belong. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

 

Sincerely,

Elizabeth.

 

I met many such people all over America. At first I thought they were

special encounters in select parts of the country, but I soon realized that

Indian culture is popular everywhere, with retreats offering seminars on

yoga, Ayur Vedic medicine and Vastu. In Upstate New York, for example, the

spiritually oriented retreats are frequented by the intelligentsia of New

York City, just two hours away. The area is often referred to as the "Bhajan

Belt," because many bands resident there sing devotional songs accompanied

by Indian instruments. None of these groups are composed of ISKCON devotees,

as one might assume. Rather they are Americans who have taken the time to

learn the traditional Indian music. Many travel throughout the country

singing songs about Krsna, and their concerts are always well attended.

Vedic culture is enjoying an unprecedented appeal in America, and although

ISKCON has not been as actively promoting it as in the past, I have

witnessed a revival of the preaching spirit in many American temples.

Devotees should not delay in utilising the attraction Eastern religions are

enjoying.

 

Buddhism is particularly in vogue among Americans, with many movie stars,

actors, and even politicians adhering to its practice. While traveling

across the country, sometimes people would mistake me for a Buddhist monk.

At a security check for a flight out of Washington DC's Reagan Airport, an

officer took my bags aside to do a search. When he picked up the small pouch

containing my Nrsimha salagram sila, I said, "You can look, but please don't

touch. That article is sacred."

 

Looking at me sternly, he said, "We have orders to search everything."

 

"That's fine," I said, "but don't touch the contents."

 

The officer became suspicious and called a superior. His response was, "Do

an explosives check on the pouch."

 

I could only imagine what that involved, so I said, "No, Sir, you can't do

that!"

 

At that moment, a women security officer of oriental appearance noticed me

as she was passing the check-point. Bowing in front of me, she got down on

her knees and began praying. After a few moments she looked up and said,

"Are you from Tibet?"

 

I replied, "No, Madam, I'm not."

 

She then said, "Are you from Thailand?"

 

I said, "No."

 

I suddenly realized that she thought I was Buddhist monk. I was about to

explain that I was devotee of Krsna, but she then called out to an associate

in security. The second woman (also oriental) bowed and knelt before me. By

this time everyone in the area, security officials and passengers alike, had

stopped and were staring in disbelief. Nobody moved and you could have heard

pin drop. The two women then reached into their pockets, and one handed me a

$50 bill and the other a $20 bill.

 

In Buddhist countries it is a tradition that people give monks donations -

but standing there with the money in hand, I couldn't believe they were

doing this at a security check. That tradition had obviously overruled the

ladies' status at the airport. While the pair continued offering me prayers,

I looked at the officers who were dealing with me as they stood there

gaping. Shaking his head, the superior officer took the pouch, zipped it up

and handed it back to me, saying, "You can go now. We won't test this

article."

 

Smiling slightly at the ladies, I bowed from the waist and proceeded. I

could only conclude that Lord Nrsimhadeva had personally resolved the

situation by inspiring the women from within their hearts to offer respects

to the "Buddhist monk."

 

I have always found it favorable to travel in devotional attire. While some

devotees consider it an impediment, I experience the contrary. I can

honestly say that during the entire tour of America I did not encounter a

single inimical person, nor did I receive a negative stare or comment. I

attribute that to the fact that I was always dressed as a devotee. My

friend, Yasoda dulal das, an Indian devotee from New York, recently had a

different experience as a result of traveling in non-devotee dress on a

flight from Chicago to New York on business. Sitting in his seat, nicely

dressed in a suit and tie, he took out his japa bead-bag and softly began

chanting his rounds. Opening his eyes several times, he noticed the

hostesses were observing him closely. At the airport he collected his

luggage and was walking to the exit when five policemen suddenly surrounded

him. Grabbing his luggage from his hands, they then frisked him and escorted

him to a room where he was interrogated by FBI agents. After an hour and a

half he was released. As he was leaving, one of the agents offered him this

reason for the harsh treatment: "The hostesses became concerned when they

saw your hand moving inside your little bag while your eyes were closed.

Also, you were mumbling for more than an hour. They notified the airport

that they had a suspicious passenger. After 9/11 we are very cautious."

 

One aspect of being a traveling preacher which outweighs any austerities is

the opportunity to meet devotees of the Lord, especially advanced devotees.

I consider it my greatest fortune while in America to have had the

association of several highly esteemed godbrothers. One in particular is His

Holiness Satsvarupa Maharaja, whom I had not seen for 21 years. Due to

extremely poor health, Maharaja has lived a secluded life for many years in

Ireland, focusing on writing. Recently he moved to the house of a disciple

in Upstate New York. Struggling with severe migraine, he rarely sees

visitors, although he did agree to meet myself and Sri Prahlad.

 

When Maharaja walked into the room, I felt I was meeting a historic

personality. In his humility, he addressed me as a soldier marching by while

he was waving a flag on the curb. I replied that the pen is mightier than

the sword and that the devotees in ISKCON are always inspired by his

writing. I begged him to continue writing, although he admitted that due to

his declining health he could do so for only 45 minutes a day. As he sat

before me, his face swollen and his hands trembling from the strong medicine

he is prescribed, I struggled to understand how a devotee of his caliber

could become so infirm. Sometimes it is difficult to understand the Lord's

plan. Nevertheless, as Maharaja spoke I perceived a depth of realization and

devotion in him that are rarely found.

 

"When it is dark enough, men see the stars."

 

[Ralph Waldo Emerson]

 

That night, perhaps as a result of my meeting Satsvarupa Goswami, I had a

vivid dream of Tamal Krsna Goswami. When I awoke, I reflected how a number

of godbrothers and godsisters are succumbing to sickness, old age and even

death. Of course, devotees are prepared for these things by the very

philosophy we preach, but due to strong bonds created by serving guru and

Krsna together in life, separation from devotees at death is profound. I

thought of Tamal Krsna Goswami the whole day. He departed more than one year

ago, but judging by the pain still in my heart, it seems as only yesterday.

 

No farewell words were spoken

No time to say goodbye

You were gone before we knew it

And only God knows why

 

If tears could build a stairway

And memories a lane

We'd walk right up to heaven

And bring you back again

 

Our hearts still ache in sadness

And secret tears still flow

What it meant to lose you

The world will never know

 

[Anon]

 

As our preaching tour came to an end, I naturally turned my attention to the

Polish festival tour. Devotees began assembling at the base for our spring

tour as early as last month. By the beginning of May, preparations were well

under way. Our large truck, vans and cars have been serviced and our many

tents pulled out of storage and cleaned; a poster and invitation have been

designed; the finishing touches have been made to the Lifting of Govardhan

Hill, a theatrical presentation complete with soundtrack and

larger-than-life masks and costumes; and a new light show for our stage has

been ordered - and the company has promised it will be one of the best in

Poland.

 

Nandini dasi and Radha Sakhi Vrnda dasi have been busy securing permission

to stage the Festival of India. They singed a contract for the first

festival to be held in Brodnica, a town of 40,000 about 160km northwest of

Warsaw, on May 21. Our opposition, the Catholic Church, soon got wind of

our plans and tried to pressure the mayor to cancel before they could be

advanced. The Church claimed we were trouble makers. The mayor called the

head of the town's Culture House and she called Nandini. "Don't worry," the

lady told her, "I am determined to have this festival. I will simply ask the

mayor to put a clause in the contract to say that you must not cause

problems for anyone."

 

I have taken steps to ensure that we have enough security at Brodnica, as we

were violently attacked at our inaugural spring festival two years ago in

Tomaszow. The Church had hoped to instill fear in the people, thinking they

wouldn't attend any subsequent festivals. Of course, the strategy didn't

work. In fact, we received so much support and sympathy as a result of the

attack, that our festivals were bigger than ever. But I don't want to take

any chances this year - "once burnt, twice shy."

 

Despite the constant threats, we are making progress in Poland. Recently, a

conference in Krakow, 'The Hare Krsna Sect at Woodstock 2003', was cancelled

because of poor attendance. And the day before I left America, devotees in

the Warsaw temple received a call from a prominent movie producer. He

invited them to take part in a film he is making. The script has been

written by one of Poland's best-loved actors, Jerzy Stuhr. In the script,

he stars as a family man with two children. Unable to bear the

responsibility of family life and suffering from other pressures in society,

he runs away and joins a monastery. 17 years later he tries to return to

his family, only to be disappointed with their total absorption in material

life and lack of interest in anything spiritual. His frustration eventually

leads him to the Hare Krishna movement. The final scene in the movie will

show him with a shaved head and sikha, dressed in a dhoti, happily

distributing leaflets on a harinam party in Warsaw. As the scene fades,

he smiles and starts singing Hare Krishna.

 

A movie, no doubt, but we cannot under estimate the effect such a film will

have in spreading the holy names of Krishna throughout Poland. I never

imagined that one of Poland's most famous actors would write a script about

joining our movement! It's practically a miracle. But this movement is

made of miracles.

 

"Why should grass not sprout without seeds? Why should the blind not see?

Why should the lame not be able to leap over mountains if those persons, who

have no devotion for Lord Caitanya, the master of the wonderful unparalleled

opulance of the nectar of pure love of Krishna, could somehow attain the

bliss of that pure love."

 

[Prabhodananda Saraswati: Sri Caitanya Candramrta, Chapter 5, Verse 39]

 

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