Volume 7, Chapter 1

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Diary of a Traveling Preacher

 

Volume 7, Chapter 1

 

By Indradyumna Swami

 

January 1 - February 5, 2006

 

 

"Reflections on Paradise"

 

 

After my preaching tour in South America, I flew to Australia via London, a

grueling 32-hour trip. I rested in Sydney for a few days and then joined in

a week of festivities at the temple. Then I took another long-haul flight,

this time to South Africa.

 

When I arrived in Durban, I was so exhausted I didn't know whether I was

coming or going. Worse yet, the next morning I began to feel a familiar,

dull pain in the right side of my abdomen. A visit to the doctor confirmed

my suspicion: my liver was swollen again.

 

"What do you expect?" said the doctor. "You barely gave yourself time to

recover and you were off traveling around the world again."

 

"It's hard to sit still, Doctor," I said. "There's so much service to do."

 

"That may be," he said, "but your body is telling you something else. Better

get some rest again, or you'll suffer the consequences."

 

On the way back to the temple I thought about his advice. I did not want to

stop my service again, but there seemed to be no choice. I considered

resting in Durban, but I cringed at the thought of lying low again for weeks

on end.

 

Suddenly, I remembered an invitation from my Godbrother BB Govinda Maharaja

to visit Mauritius should I ever need some rest. I called Maharaja

immediately. He said he would also be there soon and suggested we could do

programs together each evening. I liked the idea of preaching while I

recuperated, so I booked a flight to Mauritius, and a sympathetic devotee

bought a business-class ticket for me.

 

I boarded the flight a few days later, looking forward to the peace and

quiet of the business-class cabin, but a traveling preacher's life often

brings surprises, and that day was no exception.

 

As soon as I entered the cabin, a large group of passengers seated together

started laughing at me. They looked like tourists and seemed a bit drunk.

Several of them nudged their friends who hadn't seen me, and the friends

also made fun of me.

 

I tried not to pay attention, but as I was putting my bags in the overhead

luggage compartment, one of them said in French, "Cute dress he's wearing."

 

I replied in French. "I'm a monk, Sir," I said. "These are my robes."

 

He looked surprised. "You're not a monk," he said. "You're dressed like a

clown."

 

The entire group laughed wildly.

 

I looked away and sat down in my assigned aisle seat, which unfortunately

was just in front of him and two others in the group.

 

At that moment a stewardess came around with glasses of juice. First she

served the men behind me, and with one glass left on the tray turned to me.

As I leaned forward, one of the men reached over the seat and took the

glass.

 

"Good one!" said one of his friends across the aisle. I expected the

stewardess to intervene, but she turned away and came back two minutes later

with another glass.

 

After a while the tourists began laughing again. "Maybe he's a she," said a

man loudly. Again his friends burst out laughing.

 

I struggled to control my anger. "Be tolerant," I thought. "They're just a

bunch of drunks."

 

One of the men went to the restroom. On his way back to his seat, he stopped

next to me. With a remorseful look on his face he put out his hand. "I'm

sorry for the way my friends spoke to you," he said.

 

As I put my hand out to shake his, he grinned and pulled his hand back. Once

again his friends could not contain themselves.

 

I'd had enough. I decided to go to the cockpit and complain to the captain,

but as I was getting up, the man directly behind me pushed my seat forward

with such force that I fell onto the back of the seat in front of me.

 

"Clown!" he yelled.

 

I turned to confront him, but just at that moment, four security guards

walked into the cabin. Everyone looked up. A hush came over the entire

cabin. The guards stood, silently surveying the passengers for a few

moments, and then turned to speak quietly with the people sitting in the

first three rows, apparently asking them to move. The passengers stood up

and the stewardesses escorted them to the last few rows in business class,

which were empty.

 

When the passengers had been relocated, the security guards took one last

look around and then were gone as suddenly as they had appeared.

 

After a few seconds, another two security guards came in. They stood silent

and motionless. Suddenly, Nelson Mandela and his wife came into the cabin,

followed by several aides. All the passengers gasped. Mr. Mandela casually

looked around. When he saw me, he broke into a smile.

 

"Hello," he said, giving me a little wave and nodding his head.

 

I stood up. "Mr. President," I said.

 

I started to move towards him to shake his hand. From the corner of my eye,

I saw some of the passengers who had been teasing me. Their mouths were open

in surprise.

 

One of the bodyguards stepped between Mr. Mandela and me. "I'm sorry, sir,"

he said politely but firmly.

 

I stopped, but I was pleasantly surprised when the same bodyguard led Mr

Mandela to an aisle seat almost opposite me, just one row in front. The

aides took the seats that had been cleared in the first three rows.

 

Mr. Mandela sat down. Then he looked back and smiled at me again.

 

"Mandela smiled at him," said the man in the seat behind me.

 

I could not tell whether Mr Mandela remembered me personally or was simply

acknowledging me as a Hare Krsna devotee. In 1992, when he was leader of the

African National Congress, he visited our temple in Durban and humbly bowed

before the form of Srila Prabhupada. He was given a tour of the temple and

was served a feast at Govinda's restaurant.

 

At Diwali in November 1994, he came to the temple again, this time as the

president of the country, accompanied by an entourage of ministers.

Thousands of locals thronged to the temple to hear his address to the

community.

 

In April 1997 he was once again the temple's special guest at our Festival

for the Children of the Rainbow Nation, held at a large soccer stadium in

Durban. It was an extravaganza with ethnic groups performing, including our

devotees who held kirtan. We had invited 50,000 schoolchildren, hundreds of

teachers, 50 members of Parliament, the Mayor of Durban, and the King of the

Zulus. Devotees distributed lunch packets to each and every child. President

Mandela even canceled the rest of his day's appointments to stay longer at

the program.

 

Afterwards, as I escorted him back to his car, we talked about the need for

spirituality in modern society. Just before he left, he turned to me.

"Maharaja," he said, "this was the best day of my life."

 

The next day his words appeared in the headlines of one of the country's

biggest newspapers.

 

During the four-hour flight to Mauritius, Mr. Mandela looked back several

times and smiled graciously at me. I smiled in return each time,

acknowledging his kindness.

 

After landing, he was quickly escorted from the plane, but he turned once

more and waved at me.

 

As I was leaving the plane, I met the captain. "Do you know why Nelson

Mandela has come to Mauritius?" I asked.

 

The captain smiled. "For a vacation," he said, "just like the rest of you."

 

As I walked to immigration, I thought about the captain's words. They were

almost accurate but not quite. It was true we had all come for a rest, but

whereas the others had come to put their work aside, I had come to get back

to mine. I would be counting the days until I could take up my normal

service.

 

Some devotees picked me up at the airport, and as we drove to the beach

house where I would spend two weeks recuperating, I was surprised to see

that Mauritius had changed dramatically since my first visit, in the early

1980s. The old dirt roads were now paved with asphalt and lined with proper

road signs and modern petrol stations.

 

But the island was still the paradise immortalized by the words of Mark

Twain: "First God saw Mauritius, then He created heaven." Amidst the endless

sugarcane fields, I caught glimpses of tropical fruit trees: mangoes,

litchis, mandarins, oranges, grapefruit, papayas, passion fruit, jackfruit,

guavas, and custard apples. Beautiful white sand beaches with clear blue

water encircled the island.

 

"It's not the lazy island I remember," I said to my driver.

 

"In many ways it still is," he said, "but things have changed. The economy

has improved much during the past 10 years, with a surge in demand for

Mauritius sugar, and there is a new textile industry.

 

"You won't recognize Port Louis," he continued. "The capital now has its own

share of big buildings, hypermarkets, car-parks and a well-groomed downtown

area. There is all facility to spread Krsna consciousness, and fulfill Srila

Prabhupada's prediction for Mauritius."

 

"What prediction?" I asked.

 

"Srila Prabhupada visited Mauritius twice and predicted it would be the

first Krsna conscious country in the world," he replied.

 

"He did?" I said.

 

The driver smiled. "Oh, yes," he said.

 

"Is he hinting that I should preach in Mauritius?" I thought. "Hmm... Maybe

I could... but then, I have my festival programs. I can't get involved

here."

 

I decided to change the subject. "How are the politics in the country?" I

said. "What's our relationship with the government?"

 

"There are just over a million people in Mauritius," he said. "Two thirds of

the population is of Indian origin, and most of them are Hindus. The prime

minister was the special guest at our farm community for the opening of our

Krsna Balarama temple in the year 2000."

 

We entered the driveway of the beach house. Maharaja," he said,"Did you know

there's not a single poisonous insect or reptile on the island. It's a - "

 

"Paradise on earth," I broke in.

 

He smiled.

 

As I was settling into my room, I looked out the window at the

turquoise-blue water just off the beach, 15 meters away. "Preaching in

paradise," I joked to myself. "That would be something new. I'm always

preaching in tough spots, like Russia, Poland, and the Balkans. At least

there won't be any danger here, like skinheads, anti-cult groups, or

religious fanatics."

 

I paused for a moment and let my mind sober up. "Don't kid yourself," I

thought. "Any form of material opulence is dangerous for a sannyasi."

 

I looked out again at the heavenly scene. "And don't forget it," I said

softly.

 

I fell asleep quickly that night, listening to the small waves breaking on

the beach just outside my window.

 

I got up in the darkness of early morning and walked the few steps to the

beach. As I sat there chanting my japa, the sun rose on the horizon. It was

a spectacular scene, with the beautiful rays tinting the clouds orange

against the deep blue water of the ocean.

 

"Hello paradise," I said, as the sunlight slowly revealed the beauty of the

tropical scenery around me.

 

I could not have imagined a more perfect scene anywhere in the world. It was

one of those rare moments where life comes to a standstill in an idyllic

setting and one becomes calm and peaceful. But a devotee is trained to see

the world not through his imperfect physical eyes but through the eyes of

scripture. For all its beauty, I knew this environment would fade in time.

The only true paradise is the eternal one, and it remains unaffected by the

changes of this imperfect world.

 

paras tasmat tu bhavo 'nyo

'vyakto 'vyaktat santanah

yah sa sarvesu bhutesu

natyatsu na vinasyati

 

"Yet there is another unmanifest nature, which is eternal and is

transcendental to this manifested and unmanifested matter. It is supreme and

is never annihilated. When all in this world is annihilated, that part

remains as it is." [bhagavad-gita 8.20]

 

After finishing my rounds, I sat reflecting on Srila Prabhupada's prediction

that Mauritius would be the first country to become Krsna conscious.

 

"It would be an honor to help fulfill Srila Prabhupada's prophecy," I

thought. "Maybe one day I'll return and do some preaching here. I can't

imagine when that would be, but I'll keep the option open."

 

Although early, it was getting hot, so I walked back to the beach house.

 

Later that morning my cell phone rang. It was Guru Gauranga das, a disciple

of Bhakti Charu Maharaja.

 

"I sent you an important email several days ago," he began, "and I haven't

received a reply."

 

"I'm sorry," I said. "I've been on a tight schedule and haven't checked my

mail for a few days. I'll get right on it and send you a reply this

morning."

 

That morning, when I downloaded my email and read Guru Gauranga's letter, a

new chapter opened in my life. Here was a chance to preach in paradise, and

to show the people of Mauritius what paradise really is.

 

"Dear Indradyumna Swami,

 

"Please accept my most humble obeisances. All glories to Srila Prabhupada.

 

"I have been keeping up with your travels through your diary. Thank you for

taking the time to share your experiences on the road with us.

 

"I heard you are on your way to Mauritius.

 

"As you know, by Krsna's grace I run a successful business on the West Coast

of America. For a long time I have wanted to do some significant service for

ISKCON. When I read in one of your recent diary chapters that an astrologer

predicted you would take your festival program to several countries, I got

an inspiration.

 

"If you would agree to do a large festival program in Mauritius, similar to

what you do in Poland, I will provide all the financial backing you need. I

will purchase all the necessary materials, including buses, trucks, stages,

and tents. I will also buy a piece of land and build accommodation for the

devotees in your program, as well as a warehouse to store all your

paraphernalia.

 

"I would also like to help the Mauritius yatra by assisting BB Govinda

Maharaja in building the new temple in Phoenix. I plan to relocate my

business and family to Mauritius in the near future.

 

"I am convinced that a new temple in Mauritius and a festival program such

as yours will flood the country with happiness and begin to fulfill Srila

Prabhupada's dream that Mauritius will be the first Krsna conscious country

in the world.

 

"I know you have a busy schedule, but I am hoping you will accept my offer

and spend one or two months a year in Mauritius doing festivals in all the

towns and villages.

 

"Please let me know your thoughts on the matter.

 

"Your servant,

 

"Guru Gauranga das"

 

Indradyumna.swami (AT) pamho (DOT) net

 

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