Volume 5, Chapter 24

[Guest guest]

; Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

Volume 5, Chapter 24

 

July 25 - 31, 2004

 

 

"Up on the Hill"

 

 

As I work on this chapter of my diary, I am at a loss as to how to begin and

how to finish. The great Woodstock festival has just concluded. I don't know

how to put it into words - Krsna's Village of Peace, situated on a small

plateau over the festival site and looking like a temple on a hill, and the

miraculous events that took place there over three days.

 

>From every direction at the Woodstock festival, the 300,000 people who

attended could see us. A month earlier, we were inspecting the general area

with Jurek Owsiak, the main organizer. Jurek pointed to the plateau. "That

hill's for Krsna," he said. It was a gift whose value we could only

appreciate after Woodstock had actually begun.

 

At first I was a bit uneasy about the entire Woodstock site. It was a new

location on the western side of Poland, next to the German border. Unlike

the previous site in Zary, which was flat and easily accessible, the new

area in Kostrzyn-nad-Odra was a field in the middle of forested region. It

was a wild area, full of wasps, ticks, and mosquitoes.

 

My apprehension grew when a local farmer told me about the place. "We

suspect there are munitions left over from World War Two under the ground

here," he said. "Often people find artillery shells and bombs when digging

foundations for new homes or businesses."

 

"Where did they come from? I asked.

 

"During World War Two, Kostrzyn was part of Germany," he said. "It was the

last line of defense before Berlin, and it was well fortified. In March 1944

the Allies bombed Kostryn for 14 days and nights with 3,150 planes.

Ninety-eight percent of the town was destroyed."

 

He pointed to the hill 50 meters away, where we would put up Krsna's Village

of Peace. "That hill took the brunt of it," he said. "There was heavy

artillery up there protecting the town."

 

He looked in another direction. "You see those army men?" he said. "They are

searching this entire area of the Woodstock festival with special metal

detectors to find any shells or munitions left over from the war. Come with

me. I'll show you something else."

 

We walked 50 meters in yet another direction, and he showed me a vast walled

cavern in the ground. "The Germans hid their aircraft here," he said. "It

goes down three stories. The earth would open up and they would fly out of

the ground."

 

Our devotees worked for a week alongside the army men, clearing the land of

bushes, old trees, and rocks. A tent company came in on an improvised road

we had laid and spent the next three days putting up a tent 90 meters long

and 30 meters wide. Then they proceeded to put up the smaller tents, which

we would use to depict different aspects of Vedic culture. "This is really

taming the wild," I thought.

 

With the addition of water pipes and electrical poles, everything began to

take shape, and in the last days before the festival, our devotee artists

came and decorated our site with artistic structures, colorful cloth, and

even a prefabricated Vedic temple. The site looked like heaven on earth.

 

Gazing into the small valley below, one could see huge preparations

finishing up for the Woodstock Festival itself: a gigantic stage, 400

toilets, 40 telephone booths, numerous sinks and basins for washing, 2 poles

that spouted water for showering, and a massive area of improvised shops and

restaurants. I counted over 60 food stalls putting up signs displaying all

kinds of food, but not a single one offering vegetarian fare. And I couldn't

begin to tally the number of stands ready to sell beer.

 

In nearby Kostrzyn people were wary of the devotees who flooded the town to

shop and go on the Internet in the days leading up the big festival. In one

store in particular, employees were assigned to follow all devotees who came

in and make sure they didn't steal.

 

The Woodstock festival lasts two days, but Jurek Owsiak is a close friend of

ours and always lets us start a day early in appreciation for our

contribution to the event. My heart was beating strongly the morning we

opened our village. A great opportunity awaited us. Close to 300 devotees

from the Baltics, Russia, Ukraine, and other parts of Europe had come to

assist our core festival group of 250 devotees, and that morning we busied

ourselves dividing our forces between kitchen duties, service on the field,

stage shows, and administration.

 

There was action everywhere as we made final preparations. Big trucks rolled

onto our festival grounds delivering the last of the 30 tons of foodstuffs

needed to reach our goal of 100,000 plates of prasadam. An enormous pot just

to the side of our food distribution tent simmered with 3,500 liters of

beans. Early comers gawked at the pot and the devotee who stood on a ladder

stirring the beans with a huge wooden spoon.

 

Devotees put up freshly made signs on the tents: Yoga, Meditation, Questions

and Answers, Ayurveda, Books, Gifts, Gopi Dots, Vegetarianism, and

Reincarnation. But the most attractive tent of all was the temple, presided

over by our Radha-Krsna Deities, Gandharvika Giridhari.

 

Great kirtaneers arrived just in time: BB Govinda Swami with his bhajan band

from Kazakhstan, Lokanath Swami, and Sivaram Swami. Stalwart preachers

followed: Candramauli Swami, Deena Bandhu Prabhu, Kavicandra Swami,

Kripamoya Prabhu, Pancajangari Prabhu, and Umapati Swami. The stage was set.

 

And last but not least, late that morning, the sun finally broke through the

clouds, bringing an end to the drizzle that had hampered our efforts for

days. A cheer went up from all the hard-working devotees. Surely the

demigods had been watching from their flower airplanes just above our site,

and they had dispelled any last obstacles to our preaching. The good weather

stayed throughout the entire Woodstock.

 

It was a real blessing. Had it rained, the steep access road up our hill

would have become a mud slick, and few would have braved the climb. It was

the only potential weak point on our site, and one I was conscious of at

every moment.

 

At 11:00 am a devotee blew a conch, and as I tore down the red tape around

our two-acre site, kids came flowing into Krsna's Village of Peace in huge

numbers. Many went straight for the food-distribution tent, others to the

stage program, which was just beginning. Our sound system, capable of

addressing 50,000 people, was broadcasting Sri Prahlad's kirtan down into

valley.

 

Within minutes, a reporter with a camera crew came up to me, and a woman

introduced herself. "We are from the main television channel in Germany,"

she said. "Can you tell us something about the history of this Woodstock

Festival?"

 

"Yes," I said, "and I'll tell you about Krsna's Village of Peace too."

 

"Oh excuse me," she said. "I thought this was the principal event. Your site

is so big and so attractive. Where are the organizers of the main Woodstock

festival?"

 

"Just down there in the valley," I replied.

 

She smiled. "We'll be back," she said.

 

No sooner had I seen them off than another television crew appeared. I did

not have the time to ask who they were, so I just did the interview. I

stressed that we are invited back to Woodstock every year because we support

the themes of Woodstock: no violence and no narcotics.

 

"What positive contribution do you make?" the interviewer asked.

 

I smiled. "To begin with," I said, "100,000 plates of delicious vegetarian

food and a spiritual theme park with unlimited attractions: singing,

dancing, yoga, theater, philosophical books, an Indian temple - "

 

"Cut!" shouted the interviewer to the crew. The list was too long.

 

That night Jurek Owsiak called Nandini. "I saw Maharaja's interview on

national television," he told her. "It was great. Maharaja said all the

right things. We're happy to work together with you on the Woodstock

Festival."

 

"Jurek," Nandini said, "can you come over at 10:30 tonight, when our bands

are playing, and officially open Krsna's Village of Peace?"

 

"Yes, of course," he replied.

 

That night, in a tent packed with over 5,000 kids, Jurek came on our stage

and welcomed everyone to Krsna's Village of Peace. The kids roared in

approval. We were off to a good start.

 

The next day was the official opening day for the Woodstock Festival itself.

Jurek called for 10 devotees to go with him on the main stage to open the

event. With 200,000 kids watching and television cameras rolling, he asked

the local fire chief to blow a whistle to begin the celebrations.

 

Then to my surprise, he pointed to us standing beside him. "In Krsna's

Village of Peace, just up on the hill," he said to all the kids, "you'll get

the best food. Be happy they are here. They're some of my best friends."

 

The kids applauded in mass.

 

Such huge publicity for the sankirtan movement of Lord Caitanya is rare in

Kali Yuga, and I relished every moment.

 

Later, Jurek's wife told us that the same night, when even more kids were

assembled before the main stage to listen to one of their favorite bands,

Jurek came out spontaneously and grabbed the microphone. His voice boomed

throughout the entire Woodstock area. "If you think my friends the Hare

Krsna's are a cult," he yelled, "then get out of here!"

 

He went on for 20 minutes glorifying our movement. The Lord works in many

ways and that night He worked most wonderfully.

 

Three times a day, Kripamoya Prabhu and Sri Prahlada Prabhu led Harinam

parties of 50 to 100 devotees into the valley to chant on the dusty roads

crisscrossing through the sea of tents the young people were camping in.

Most of the kids were intoxicated, the only good effect of which was that

they danced more easily with us. We were obliged to take a security team of

15 men who protected us against those who had become bellicose from

drinking.

 

Our entertainment and Harinam was written up in a major newspaper after the

first day. "The devotees of Krsna have set up a beautiful village on top of

a hill, overlooking the entire Woodstock festival," said the article.

"Streams of young people can be seen walking up the hill at any time of the

day or night. There they enjoy delicious food and cultural entertainment

from India. When the devotees descend into the valley with their singing

groups, they are so attractive that even their enemies are forced to

appreciate them."

 

Our stage show ran non-stop from 10:30 a.m. until 3:00 a.m. the next

morning. We had rehearsed the performances for months and tried to make

everything dynamic and professional. The Ramayana, with big masks, was

especially appreciated, as well as Krsna's Vrindavana lila, with big

puppets. Our Indian dancers, pantomimes, and yoga demonstrations, all

accompanied by music, were particularly popular.

 

A wedding on the third and final day brought tears to the eyes on many of

the thousands of people watching. Just after the wedding, I met a couple

from Zary, where Woodstock had been held in previous years.

 

"Do you miss having Woodstock in your town?" I asked them.

 

"No," said the man, "We miss Krsna's Village of Peace."

 

The various tents throughout our village were filled to capacity most of the

time. The crowd in Questions and Answers often spilled out onto the field,

despite the many benches inside.

 

And the temple tent was always rocking with the kirtans of BB Govinda

Maharaja, Sivarama Maharaja, and others. "I came to Woodstock and parked my

car near your village," a boy told me. "I had to walk to the festival

through your tent, but after I went in, I never left. I didn't even go down

into the valley. And I'm not sorry. I came to hear my favorite bands but

ended up listening to only one song, Hare Krsna, for three days straight."

 

The last day of the festival saw our biggest crowd. Many young people came

to hear our devotee bands - Village of Peace, Dhira, Radical News, and

Nrsimha. At times the main tent was filled with as many as 7,000 kids.

 

On the last day, we stayed up all night distributing prasadam, and as the

sun came up the next morning, I blissfully went back to our base to sleep a

few hours.

 

Later that morning Nandini dasi, Jayatam das, and I went to see the mayor to

thank him for letting Woodstock take place in his town. When we arrived, his

secretary asked us to wait in the lobby, and we could hear a loud argument

taking place in his office. Finally, the mayor asked us in.

 

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

 

"Those were businessmen from the town," the mayor said. "They had set up

many food stalls, and they were angry because they sold practically

nothing."

 

The mayor smiled. "Everyone went up to your village to eat," he continued.

 

"Those businessman told me they had to throw away seven tons of meat because

of you. When I asked them if they wanted to take any action against you, one

of them smiled. 'No,' he said, 'let them go. They didn't mean any harm.

Besides, they lit up Woodstock with their smiles.' "

 

"Did you go to Krsna's Village of Peace?" I asked.

 

"I was there every day," the mayor said. "I appreciated it because it was so

clean. But my family and I missed out on the food because we couldn't stand

for hours in the long lines."

 

"No problem," I said, and I handed him a beautiful cake.

 

We left the mayor's office and finished our preparations to go back up north

and continue our summer beach festivals, but before heading out, we stopped

to see Jurek Owsiak and his team, themselves preparing to leave from just

behind the main Woodstock stage.

 

Jurek and I greeted each other with a big hug. "Thank you," he said in

English.

 

"Thank you," I answered in Polish.

 

"Did you get to distribute 100,000 plates of food?" Jurek asked.

 

"Yes we did." I replied.

 

"How did you like being up on the hill?" he asked.

 

I laughed." It was like a fairy tale," I said, "but if it had rained, it

would have been a nightmare."

 

"The angels were protecting us this year," he said.

 

"No doubt about that," I said. I envisioned Indra, Surya, and Vayu in their

celestial airplanes.

 

"But we may not be so lucky next year," he added.

 

Before I could comment, Jurek turned to his team members and closest

associates who had organized the general Woodstock festival. They had all

gathered to see him off.

 

"I want to make an announcement," he called out.

 

They all stopped what they were doing and looked towards him.

 

"Next year, we'll put the main stage where the food stalls were this year,"

he said. "It's a better vantage point."

 

"And where will the food stalls go?" a worker called out.

 

Jurek didn't offer an immediate alternative, as everyone knew the food

stalls had not done well because of the popularity of our prasadam.

 

"Where the stage is now is a great spot too, Jurek," another man called out.

"It can be easily accessed by a concrete road and can be seen from anywhere

on the field. What will you put here?"

 

Jurek was getting into his car. He looked back with a smile on his face.

"It's for my Hare Krsna friends," he said.

 

It was yet another gift, waiting for us one year down the road.

 

Before leaving town we made one last stop at the grocery store where

devotees had been shopping throughout the festival. I braced myself to be

followed again under suspicion of stealing. Instead, I was surprised to see

all the cashiers with gopi dots painted on their faces. As I made my

purchases, they smiled, radiant from the association of the devotees at

Woodstock.

 

I smiled to myself thinking how the whole town of Kostrzyn - and 300,000

visiting kids - had been purified by our village on the hill. Once a place

of unprecedented horror and suffering, the hill it had been transformed by

the holy names of Krsna into an abode of wellbeing and peace.

 

jagad bandhor jagat kartur

jagatam trana hetave

yatra tatra hareh seva

kirtane sthapite sukhe

 

"Wherever the service to the Lord, who is the protector and creator of the

universes, and wherever congregational chanting of His names were well

established, they set the worlds in peace." [srila Sarvabhauma Bhattacarya,

Susloka-satakam, verse 48 ]

 

indradyumna.swami (AT) pamho (DOT) net

 

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