Volume 5, Chapter 5

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Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

Volume 5, Chapter 5

 

June 11 - 20, 2003

 

"Vaikuntha Park"

 

 

Having seen the power of the media to bless or curse, I closely followed our

lawyers' dealings with the newspaper. We had demanded either an apology or

the right to publish an article by the Festival of India presenting our

side. The editors were sure we would back down under pressure (and no doubt

they wielded more power), but unknown to them, we held the trump card.

 

vidiksu diksurdhvam adhah samantad

antar bahir bhagavan narasimhah

prahapayal loka-bhayam svanena

sva-tejasa grasta-samasta-tejah

 

"Prahlada Maharaja loudly chanted the holy name of the Lord Nrsimhadeva. May

Lord Nrsimhadeva, roaring for His devotee Prahlada Maharaja, protect us from

all fear of dangers created by stalwart leaders in all directions through

poison, weapons, water, fire, air and so on. May the Lord cover their

influence by His own transcendental influence. May Nrsimhadeva protect us in

all directions and in all corners, above, below, within and without."

 

[srimad-Bhagavatam 6.8.34]

 

After five days, the newspaper gave in and printed our rebuttal. I was

jubilant. We had won without a legal battle, set a precedent for fair

coverage of the festival, and published what the town secretary of Mlawa

needed to grant permission for the festival, which she had canceled because

of the earlier report.

 

With the victory under our belt, we returned to our festival programs with

renewed vigor and enthusiasm. We began Harinam in Ostroda, a town of 40,000

people, three days before the festival, with a colorful kirtan party of 60

devotees. We have developed a special style of Harinam, with 20 women in

front and 20 in back. Twenty men playing musical instruments form the middle

of the Harinam, while both groups of women dance in synchronized patterns.

 

It makes for a stunning effect, the men wearing chaddars and the ladies in

colorful silk saris, gopi dots, and beautiful silk garlands. People stopped

to watch the parade go through their town, and when we passed by apartment

blocks, many waved from open windows.

 

The second day of Harinam took place on Pandava Nirjala Ekadasi. Almost 150

tour devotees observed the full Ekadasi, abstaining from all food and drink.

I was especially pleased with the Harinam devotees, who chanted and danced

in the sweltering heat for hours as they distributed invitations to the

festival.

 

But my heart sank when I saw the place the city had given us. It was a small

field in a park in a seedy, low-class part of town not far from the railway

station. The grass was uncut and surrounded by a rusty fence. There were

many rundown apartment blocks in the area.

 

I arrived as the set-up crew was putting up the tents, and I had a feeling

that the location would scare people away, and I was right. That day only

600 people came. To confirm my suspicions, I asked some of the guests, and

they said the area was a dangerous part of town that people avoided.

Nevertheless, we went on with our program, and by the mercy of the holy

names, we transformed the park into Vaikuntha, at least for a few hours.

 

Word spread, and on the second day, the crowd swelled to 1,500. A local

gypsy clan came out in numbers as well, but it was obvious that many people

felt uncomfortable around them. The gypsies could sense it, and they kept to

themselves.

 

Then halfway through the festival, as I was speaking from the stage, a fight

broke out at the back of the crowd between the gypsies and some drunken

boys. I kept speaking, hoping that people might not notice, but it took some

time for our security to break up the fight, and a number of people were

disturbed and left.

 

I was disappointed to see them leave, but I could understand. I also feel

anxious sometimes. A devotee may be forced by the nature of his service to

deal with people inclined to low-class behavior, like drinking and fighting,

in order to try to deliver them. Nevertheless, by the grace of the Lord, a

preacher is protected from the influence of such association.

 

"The devotees in the Krsna consciousness movement are preaching all over the

world in accordance with the order of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu. They have to

meet many karmis, but by the mercy of Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu, they are

unaffected by material influences. A sincere devotee who engages in the

service of Lord Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu by preaching His cult all over the

world will never be affected by visaya-taranga, material influences."

 

[srimad-Bhagavatam 5.1.20, purport]

 

Later, another incident caused me further concern. During the final bhajan,

I saw a group of skinheads walking around the park. It's easy to spot them

with their angry faces, tight jeans, bare chests, and big black boots. It

was obvious that they were not there for the festivities. I watched as our

security people approached them and a discussion took place.

 

After the bhajan, one of the security men came to me. "These people have

come to check out the situation," he said. "If they see an opportunity for

troublemaking, they'll come back later with their friends."

 

"Do you think they'll return?" I asked.

 

"I can't say for sure," he said. "They saw we have ten security personnel

here. And we have alerted the police."

 

At the end of the festival that night, I announced that we would have a

Vedic wedding the next day. As in Lipno, we knew a wedding would draw a

large crowd despite the unfavorable location and the incident that had

happened.

 

As I was driving to the festival the next day, I called ahead, and I was

happy to hear that 2,000 people had already come for the wedding. I relaxed

a little. "It seems things are back to normal," I thought.

 

But I was soon reminded of the precarious nature of this material world. As

we entered Ostroda and passed the train station, I was shocked to see an

elite force of police confronting a group of 60 skinheads who were walking

towards our festival. The police, in bulletproof vests with helmets and

batons, had some of the skinheads on the ground, while others were against a

wall with their hands up as the police frisked them. Four officers stood by

with dogs on leashes. The skinheads were angry and were shouting obscenities

at the police. A few of them were injured and bleeding.

 

I turned to a Polish devotee in the van. "Were they on the way to our

festival?" I asked.

 

"Maharaja," he said, "it's Sunday, and there's nothing happening in this

town today but our festival. They weren't on their way to a picnic."

 

Suddenly, the police stopped all traffic, much of which had slowed down to

watch the scene, and ordered the skinheads to start walking in the middle of

the road towards the police station. Surrounding the group and armed with

dogs on all sides, the police marched them down the road with two vans,

lights flashing, in front and in back of the group. A few of the skinheads

resisted and were further bloodied by the security forces. It was quite a

spectacle. I shuddered to think what would have happened had the police not

intervened.

 

When I arrived at the festival site, it again looked like the spiritual

world. Our women had decorated the stage beautifully, and Sri Prahlad was

adding the final touches to the yajna sala. The bride and groom, my

disciples Dinanath das and Rasamandali dasi, waited patiently nearby. A

melodious kirtan was playing, and I walked onto the stage to welcome the

people. As I began the wedding, the crowd stood mesmerized by the exotic

event.

 

Throughout the ceremony I noticed the gypsies standing to the side, watching

from a distance. I felt sorry for them, and later in the evening, I

approached them. I was surprised to find that a few of the teenagers spoke

English. I asked them if they had learned it in school.

 

"We don't go to school," one of them said.

 

It was another surprise. "Why not?" I asked.

 

The youth motioned to the crowd with his hand but remained silent.

 

I decided to change the subject. I suggested that the young people walk

around and enjoy the exhibits on India, the vegetarian restaurant, and the

spiritual fashion booth. When they looked back at me without saying

anything, I excused myself to go lead the final kirtan.

 

Many local children came on stage and sat down to chant with me and the

other devotees. I noticed a little gypsy girl standing shyly in front of the

stage, and I motioned to her to chant with us. She hesitated for a moment,

but then ran up to join us. When I asked her to sit close to me, a number of

the children around me moved away. I mildly admonished them, and told them

to come back. They hesitated for a few moments then gradually returned, but

they kept their distance from the girl, who was visibly hurt by their

rejection.

 

In the crowd, the mood was light and people were enjoying themselves. Many

teenagers began dancing in front of the stage, and soon some adults joined

in. The children on stage were especially blissful, and at one point, all of

them except the gypsy girl stood up to dance. But then, as the kirtan

reached a peak, one of the children grabbed the hand of the girl and pulled

her into the dance. Her eyes lit up, and she smiled as she began dancing

along with the other children.

 

When gypsies saw their little girl dancing happily with the other children,

they all joined into the kirtan in front of the stage. There were a few

tense moments, but soon in the ecstasy of the kirtan, people grabbed the

gypsies' hands and everyone danced happily in a circle.

 

"This is probably the first time in the history of Ostroda that the gypsies

have felt welcome," I thought.

 

Seeing it all happen before my eyes, I called out the words of Narottam das

Thakur loudly through the sound system: "Golokera prema-dhana,

hari-nama-sankirtana! All glories to the holy names, which have descended

from the spiritual world!"

 

After an hour, I brought the kirtan and the festival to a close. Once again

by the grace of Lord Caitanya and the special protection of Lord

Nrsimhadeva, we had put on a successful festival.

 

People left the park slowly, wanting to savor every moment of the special

atmosphere. A few stayed on, asking questions and exchanging addresses with

devotees. Finally, they too turned and disappeared into the night. Chances

were we wouldn't come back to Ostroda for many years, if ever, and I would

never see these people again. Still, I felt blessed that I could help them

take their first step towards Krsna.

 

For most of them, it would be their only contact with Krsna consciousness in

this lifetime, but for all of them, it had been the beginning of their

journey home, back to the spiritual world. And for a fortunate few, it could

well be the beginning of a deep spiritual awakening. When the very last

person had gone, I also turned and left, my mind already thinking about the

next town where our festival would melt the hearts of yet another crowd.

 

"I expect to pass through life but once. If, therefore, there be any

kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do to any fellow being, let me

do it now, and not defer or neglect it, as I shall not pass this way again."

 

[William Penn]

 

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