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DIARY OF A TRAVELING
PREACHER >>
By Indradyumna Swami
Volume IX, Chapter 1
"A Perfect Ending"
Hong Kong
19/01/08 - 28/01/08
The devotees on our tour were tired from seven
weeks of festivals throughout Australia and New Zealand, but they
looked forward to the final two programs, to be held in Hong Kong.
But we almost didn't make it. The day before our
departure from Auckland, our Russian and Ukrainian devotees had
not yet been granted visas for Hong Kong. That night I called Chandrasekhar
das, one of the leaders in the temple there.
"It's 9 PM," I said. "We're due
to fly out in nine hours. Have the visas come through?"
"Not yet," he said, "and the situation
doesn't look good. We've been trying to contact the immigration
office all week, but it's impossible to get through. Our lawyer
is trying to reach them through special channels. I'll call you
if something happens."
I understood Chandrasekhar's anxiety. He and a
team of local devotees had been organizing the festival for six
months. At great cost they had rented an auditorium with 1,000 seats
for two evenings at a prestigious university in downtown Hong Kong.
Never before had the small yatra attempted such a bold preaching
program. A number of special dignitaries, including the Consul General
of India would be attending.
"We have to start making alternative plans
now," I said to Santi Parayana das after the call with Chandrasekhar.
"Our visas to New Zealand are finished tomorrow morning. Either
we fly to Hong Kong tomorrow or back to Europe. Call our travel
agent at her home and see if our flights can be redirected to London."
I told the rest of the devotees to go to bed.
Hours passed. I fell asleep. At 2:30 am my cell
phone rang. I grabbed it.
"The visas have been granted!" said Chandrasekhar
excitedly. "It's a miracle."
"Wow!" I said, instantly awake. "How
did it happen?"
"Somehow our lawyer got through to an immigration
official in Hong Kong," he replied. "It was after hours
and the official just happened to be in his office. She impressed
upon him the importance of the event. He replied he would need time
to think about it. She called him back three times in an hour and
kept repeating the urgency of the situation. Finally he agreed.
They'll have someone waiting for you with the visas when you get
off the plane."
"That's as close as they come," I replied.
"Three and a half hours before departure."
I ran into the room where the men were sleeping.
"Everybody up!" I said loudly as I turned
on the light.
The men slowly opened their eyes and sat up.
"Where are we going?" said Gaura Hari
das, rubbing his eyes. "London or Hong Kong?"
"Hong Kong," I said with a smile. "And
we're out of here in 45 minutes."
We made it to the airport with no time to spare.
As we were on several different flights, I gave the devotees final
instructions on how to fill out immigration cards when they arrived.
One girl spoke up. "Guru Maharaja," she
said, "is the Hong Kong harbor still full of those boats they
call junks, the ones with the big sails?"
"Maybe there's a few for the tourists,"
I laughed. "But Hong Kong is a modern city. It's one of the
business capitals of the world."
I had also had had a romantic idea of Hong Kong
before visiting the city last year, but on my arrival I found an
ultra-modern, efficient, and surprisingly clean city. China had
ceded Hong Kong to the British after the Opium Wars in the late
19th century, and got it back in 1997. Although much of the old
Chinese culture disappeared under British rule, many aspects of
it are still present, and as my troupe of devotees soon discovered,
there remains a blend of old and new even today.
The day after our arrival we split up into two
Harinama groups to advertise the festivals. One hundred and twenty
devotees from various places joined us. I took out one party and
my Godbrother Bhakti Bringa Govinda Maharaja, who was also visiting,
took out the other.
As my group chanted and danced blissfully down
the crowded streets, we stopped to chant in front of a large convenience
store. Our devotees were shocked when they read the signs advertising
the products inside:
"On special today: Dried gizzards, snakehead
soup, and Chinese caterpillar fungus."
The streets were crowded, and it was hard to move
along, but people kindly accepted our invitations. After several
hours I saw very few on the ground.
"It's a hopeful sign," I thought.
That evening Govinda Maharaja led a long bhajan
in the small temple. Many of the Chinese devotees had never experienced
such a blissful kirtan before, and they chanted and danced with
great pleasure. As the kirtan continued, I went to speak to Chandrasekhar
in his office.
"It's an ambitious plan to try and fill a
thousand seats two nights in a row," I said.
"I'm hoping we can do it," Chandrasekhar
replied. "Nowadays a number of people in Hong Kong are expressing
an interest in Indian culture. Since 2004, over 30 schools and colleges
have visited our temple. And yoga studios are springing up all around
the city."
The next day we took a large Harinama to Sai Kung,
a town just outside Hong Kong. Much less commercial than Hong Kong
itself, it represented the normal Chinese culture outside the cities.
But whereas people in Hong Kong showed some interest in our chanting
party, people in Sai Kung busied themselves with their work and
hardly seemed to notice us.
"It would have been wiser to continue chanting
in Hong Kong," I thought.
As we were about to finish, we passed an old Chinese
temple.
"Can foreigners go inside?" I asked a
local Chinese devotee.
"Let's see," he replied.
With five or six devotees following us, we entered
the temple.
"How old is it?" I asked quietly.
The devotees looked at some inscriptions on the
wall. "It's 140 years old," someone whispered.
The temple was dimly lit, and I had to squint to
see the altar. Finally I could make out a deity of a tall, bearded
man with long hair.
"Who is that?" I asked a devotee.
"Guan Gong,” he replied, “He's a famous warrior
who defended this area from outside warlords, centuries ago.”
There was an abundance of incense burning on the
altar. "Do they worship him?" I asked.
"Oh yes," the devotee replied. "People
come here to pray to him for protection. They believe that some
special persons attain divinity after they die and have supernatural
powers."
I glanced around the temple and saw old wall hangings,
bells, and articles for worship. The walls were thick with black
soot from 140 years of incense smoke.
"Look over here," the devotee continued.
"People take these two wooden pieces, the size of your fists,
and throw them in front of him. If the pieces both land with the
smooth side up, it means he agrees to answer a question.
"You ask a question and then pull a wooden
stick from this pile of numbered sticks. You check the number on
your stick and then go over there, where you see a pile of old parchments.
You take the parchment with the corresponding number on it and read
the answer to your question. Do you want to try?"
"No thank you," I replied respectfully.
We walked out of the temple. "Maharaja,"
said a devotee, "there is nothing that corresponds to this
type of worship in Vedic Culture, is there?"
"Actually," I replied, "there is
for a certain class of men. This is akin to worship of the ancestors.
Krishna says in Bhagavad-Gita:
yanti deva vrata devan
pitrn yanti pitr vratah
bhutani yanti bhutejya
yanti mad yajino'pi mam
'Those who worship the demigods will take birth
among the demigods; those who worship the ancestors go to the ancestors;
those who worship ghosts and spirits will take birth among such
beings; and those who worship Me will live with Me.'"
[Bhagavad Gita, 9.25]
Just outside the temple, we passed a large furnace
where a priest was offering different articles made of paper into
the fire.
"What in the world is he doing?" I asked
a local devotee.
"People believe you can send things to your
ancestors this way," he replied.
"For example, if you want to send them a car,
you offer a paper car into the fire with certain prayers."
"Let's get back to the pure chanting of the
holy names," I said. "I can hear the kirtan party just
around the corner."
The next day we continued advertising the festivals
with a big Harinama along a boardwalk near the port. Devotees got
tired after some time, but I was determined to keep them out as
long as possible.
"I'll be happy if we can fill just half the
hall each night," I thought.
While chanting down the street we were again reminded of local tastes
in food. As we passed a big restaurant we saw a large array of live
seafood swimming in huge aquariums outside the restaurant. There
were octopuses, eels, water snakes, huge crabs, and a bizarre assortment
of sea fish I had never seen before.
Customers would stop and indicate to an employee
which creature they wanted. The employee would reach in and catch
the aquatic and quickly take it back to the kitchen. A half hour
later it would be on the customer's table ready to eat.
When a large family of 12 people chose a fish almost
as big as I am, I told the kirtan leader to quickly move on.
I turned to Gaura Hari. "It's Lord Caitanya's
mercy," I said. "Even people with habits like those can
become devotees."
I quoted a famous verse from Srimad Bhagavatam:
kirata hunandhra pulinda pulkasa
abhira sumbha yavanah khasadayah
ye'nye ca papa yad apasrayasrayah
sudhyanti tasmai prabhavisnave namah
"Kirata, Huna, Andhra, Pulinda, Pulkasa, Abhira,
Sumbha, Yavana, members of the Khasa races and even others addicted
to sinful acts can be purified by taking shelter of the devotees
of the Lord, due to His being the supreme power. I beg to offer
my respectful obeisances unto Him.”
[Srimad Bhagavatam 2.4.18 ]
"Maharaja," said Gaura Hari, "'Khasa'
refers to the Chinese. But 'ye 'nye ca papa' means 'others addicted
to sinful acts.' That would include Westerners such as us, wouldn't
it? Think of what they serve in the restaurants in America."
I felt humbled. "Yes," I replied, "you're
correct. We were also addicted to sinful activity before coming
to Krsna consciousness. We're not better than they are, just more
fortunate, that's all. We have already come to Krishna Consciousness."
The next morning, our festival group and a number
of local devotees went to the auditorium to begin setting up the
stage. When we walked in we were stunned. One thousand seats cascaded
gracefully down towards an immense stage, which was complete with
every imaginable lighting, curtain, and facility needed for a professional
show.
"This dwarfs the Melbourne City Hall we performed
in," said a devotee.
I couldn't help staring at the impressive stage.
"Our show deserves such a setting," I said. "We're
presenting the highest culture. With such a facility, people will
be able to appreciate our presentation much more. But let's hope
we get enough people. This place will look empty even if 500 people
show up."
"Maharaja," said a devotee, "Chandrasekhar
said ticket sales have been going well the last couple of days as
a result of the Harinams."
The devotees were dressed and ready two hours before
the show. Everyone was excited. It would be a fitting end to our
two months of preaching. Spontaneously I called a meeting with all
of them.
"I'll be leaving the morning after the last
program," I began. "I just wanted to thank all of you
for the wonderful service you've performed during the last two months.
I'm sure all of us will cherish memories of this tour for the rest
of our lives."
"We worked hard spreading the message of Lord
Caitanya," I continued. "Sometimes it was like drinking
hot sugar-cane juice: so hot it burned the lips, but so sweet we
couldn't stop."
"And we had so many nice morning programs,"
said a devotee. "We really enjoyed chanting our rounds together
and discussing Srimad Bhagavatam."
"And great prasadam," added another.
Then there was a moment of silence as everyone
realized the tour was almost over.
Suddenly the devotees looked sad. "The only
consolation," I said, "is that we'll all be together again
in a few months for the summer festival tour in Poland."
A big cheer went up.
"Now let's get ready to go on stage,"
I said enthusiastically. "The show starts in a few minutes."
The moment we had been waiting for all week was
at hand. I decided to take a peek through the giant curtain on the
stage and see how many people had come. I went before the curtain,
paused for a moment, and pulled it slightly back.
What a jolt! The hall was almost full. Row after
row of Chinese people were sitting, waiting patiently for the show
to begin. In the front row I saw a number of dignitaries, including
the Consul General of India, the Vice Chancellor of the Chinese
University of Hong Kong, a number of professors, and several prominent
Hong Kong businessmen.
For a moment I felt a tinge of nervousness. "We'll
be performing in front of a number of distinguished guests and a
crowd of 900 people," I thought.
Then I laughed. "We've performed in front
of hundreds of thousands of people through the years," I thought.
"And they almost always appreciate the show. Why should this
program be any different? In fact, with a hall like this it can
only be better."
And better it was. The program that night was flawless,
and the audience loved every minute of it. The VIPs seemed to applaud
the loudest.
The next day the hall was just as full and the
festival even better. It was the last show on the tour, and the
devotees gave it everything they had. Early the next morning Chandrasekhar
drove me to the airport.
"So how did you like the festivals?"
he asked.
"A perfect ending to a wonderful tour,"
I replied.
"What's next?" he asked.
"I'm going to Bali, Indonesia," I replied.
"The devotees there have invited me to come and preach for
a week."
"Oh, that's very nice," he said. "It's
a tropical island. Do you plan to take a break as well?"
I reflected for a moment.
"Next life," I said with a laugh. "For
now, I'm too happy preaching in the association of so many loving
devotees of the Lord."
As I boarded the plane, I thought of something
Srila Prabhupada had written:
"Try to remember Krsna always by following
the principles as you know them; namely rising early, taking bath,
cleansing, attending aratika, reading scriptures at least one hour
or two hours daily, chanting sixteen rounds on beads of Hare Krsna
mantra, going for street sankirtana, offering all your foodstuffs
to Krsna, like that. In this way very quickly you will make progress
in Krsna Consciousness and become very, very happy in your life."
[Srila Prabhupada, letter to Susan Beckam September 29, 1972]
Indradyumna.swami@pamho.net
www.travelingmonk.com
Audio lectures: www.narottam.com
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