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DIARY OF A TRAVELING
PREACHER >>
By Indradyumna Swami
Volume IX, Chapter 10
"Times Have Changed"
Poland
18/07/08 - 20/07/08
Although we have had resounding success with our
festivals this summer, we have had some setbacks as well. We thought
we had another setback when Nandini dasi called the man in charge
of the amphitheater in Miedzyzdroje, where our festival was to take
place in two weeks.
Miedzyzdroje is host to an annual summer event
featuring Poland's best-known movie stars and other entertainers.
Its fine beaches draw hundreds of thousands of vacationers every
July and August.
"I'm the new director of the amphitheater,"
said the man who answered Nandini's call, "and I say you can
take your festival and go back to India."
"But we have a contract," said Nandini.
The man laughed. "Your contract's in my garbage
can," he said and hung up.
The next day Nandini called the town hall to inform
officials we wouldn't be coming. "We have to cancel all previous
arrangements for water, electricity, and security for our festival,"
she said. "The director of the amphitheater canceled our event
yesterday."
"Oh, no," said the woman who answered
the phone. "Wait just a moment. Let me get the mayor's secretary."
"How dare he treat you in such a way!"
said the secretary. "Let me discuss this with the mayor, and
we'll get back to you."
Meanwhile, we began making plans to do the festival
in another town.
Two days later the mayor's secretary called Nandini.
"The mayor knows of your event," she began. "He would
like to offer you the grassy field just off the boardwalk this weekend
for your festival. It's where the festival for the movie stars is
held each summer. We've never given it for any other function."
Nandini was speechless.
"Hello?" said the secretary. "Are
you there?"
Nandini collected herself. "Yes," she
said. "We accept the mayor's gracious offer. Please thank him."
Nandini called and told me of the windfall.
"I've been eyeing that spot for 18 years,"
I said. "It's a dream come true."
But the coming weekend was a week earlier than
we had planned for the festival in Miedzyzdroje.
"We don't have enough time to advertise the
event," said Nandini. "It's only a few days away."
"We'll try our best," I said. "And
depend on Krsna."
Two hours later she called me back. "Guru
Maharaja," she said, "you won't believe what just happened.
As I was driving back to our base, I tuned into the main Polish
radio channel to listen to the weather forecast. The news was just
finishing, and the announcer said that anyone who knew of a significant
entertainment event that was taking place this summer could call
in, and they would announce it. As he gave the number, I pulled
over to the side of the road and immediately called the station.
"After describing our festival in Miedzyzdroje,
the station decided to put me on live. I spoke for more than five
minutes. I described the entire festival in detail: the stage show,
the restaurant, the yoga classes, the exhibitions, everything.
"I concluded by giving my number and the address
of our website. As soon as I hung up I was inundated with calls
from people asking for more information. Jayatam das just called
to say that 600 people have logged on to our website in the past
half hour.
"Two minutes ago a representative of the second-largest
radio station in the country called. He had been listening to me
on the rival station's broadcast. He said his station wants to do
a special show on the festival in Miedzyzdroje. It will publicize
the event during the next few days. I'm on my way for the interview
now. Along with your Harinam, we now have more publicity than we
could ever have imagined. Can you believe it?"
"I can," I said with a smile. And I quoted
a verse that seemed more relevant than ever:
ananyas cintayanto mam
ye janah paryupasate
tesam nityabhiyuktanam
yoga-ksemam vahamy aham
"But those who always worship Me with exclusive
devotion, meditating on My transcendental form - to them I carry
what they lack, and I preserve what they have."
[Bhagavad-gita, 9.22]
The next day we went for Harinam on Miedzyzdroje's
long white beach. Only the wealthy can afford to go on vacation
there, so the beach was packed with many well-to-do people. As we
stepped onto the sand, I flashed back to the late 1970s, when I
would often take a ragtag handful of brahmacaris on Harinams during
the summer in St Tropez, a prestigious town on the French Riviera.
But people hardly took notice. I remember thinking, "We're
supposed to be representing the highest culture, but we have little
to show for it."
We started chanting down the crowded beach in Miedzyzdroje.
"How times have changed!" I thought. Hearing our kirtan,
everyone looked up. Many smiled, and why not? The devotees were
blissful, the kirtan was melodious, and we all danced in well-rehearsed,
choreographed steps. Each devotee wore a colorful silk garland and
held either a musical instrument, a beautiful Chinese fan, an exotic
flag, or an umbrella from Bali. People carefully read our attractive
invitations. None ended up on the ground - a sure sign that many
would come to the festival.
As we passed a family lying in the sun, the mother
stood up with her three-year-old daughter in her arms. "One
day, darling," said the mother to the daughter, "you can
join the Hare Krsnas."
Yes, the times have definitely changed, and the
reason is the devotees' enthusiasm for chanting the holy names.
Because we chant for long hours every day, the devotees are always
in a joyful mood. I sometimes lament that, for whatever reason,
there is not as much kirtan in our movement on a daily basis as
there used to be. Kirtan is central to happiness in every devotee's
life.
yavat achila sabe mahaprabhu sange
prati dina ei mata kare kirtana range
"As long as the devotees remained at Jagannatha
Puri with Sri Caitanya Mahaprabhu, the pastime of sankirtan was
performed with great jubilation every day."
[Sri Caitanya-caritamrta, Madhya 11.241]
The day of the festival we held a last Harinam
along the boardwalk. We had already distributed more than 30 thousand
invitations, but we wanted to make sure that as many people as possible
were informed. As we chanted and danced up and down the long walkway,
we passed the grassy area where our boys were setting up the huge
stage and colored tents. It was a big operation, and people stopped
to watch. At one point we also stopped and had kirtan in front of
the site.
While distributing invitations I overheard a lady
talking to her friend. "They were in the amphitheater last
year," she said. "Now they have a much better location.
Just look at their stage. Now we'll really get to appreciate their
festival."
As we wound around town one more time, a devotee
pointed out that people were wearing silk garlands similar to ours.
"They sell them in the shops," he said.
"I've seen a lot of people wearing them along the coast. It's
like a fad now. I've even seen some people with fans like ours.
"I've noticed, too," I said.
The devotee frowned. "They're just copying
us," he said. "They've obviously seen our Harinams over
the years, and now they're copying us."
"No," I said, "it's good. There's
a saying that imitation is the highest form of flattery."
I took the Harinam party back to the site a little
early so everyone could rest and take prasadam. But to my amazement,
people started arriving an hour before the event, and I had to push
the devotees to finish prasadam quickly and begin their festival
duties. By the time the show started, there were three thousand
people in front of our stage. Thousands more moved throughout the
site. Every tent was overflowing.
"It's our biggest festival ever," I said
to Jayatam.
"Yes," he said, "and the quality
of the people is the best ever as well."
I took a chair and sat on a knoll overlooking the
festival. "All the hard work," I thought, "all the
organization, the fund-raising, the obstacles - it's all worth it
just for this one event." I sat for a few minutes, relishing
the sight of so many people enjoying Krsna consciousness.
Then a girl of about 16 came up to me with a friend.
"Do you remember me?" she asked.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't. When
did we meet?"
"Seven years ago," she said. "I
was on vacation with my parents, and we came to your festival in
Pobierowo. You were telling some children's stories about Krsna,
and I sat and listened for a long time. It was so enchanting.
"I begged my parents to buy a book. Although
they were opposed to your movement, they somehow agreed, and it
eventually ended up on a bookshelf in our house. As I grew older
I used to read it whenever they weren't home. In the back of the
book it explained how to make chanting beads. One day I went through
my mother's costume jewelry and fashioned a string of pearls into
chanting beads. I've been secretly chanting on them ever since.
"I was elated when I found out you had a festival
here today. I begged my parents to come. They were hesitant but
finally agreed. We've been through all the tents and exhibits, and
they watched the stage show. Now they're eating in your restaurant.
I can't believe it. You're festival is so wonderful that they've
had a change of heart. They even agreed I could buy real japa beads
in the shop. And look, I have neck-beads too. You can't imagine
how happy I am. I wish there were a way I could repay you."
I smiled. "You already have," I said.
"Your words are more valuable to us than you could ever imagine."
That night, in the final kirtan, many people danced
with the devotees. I even saw a man in a wheelchair spinning around
when the kirtan got going. The teenage girl was there too, dancing
with abandon in front of the stage. As she chanted, her eyes lit
up and she held her arms up high. Off to the side her parents looked
at her and smiled slightly.
I also smiled as I witnessed the power of the holy
names melting the hearts of the fallen souls of this age.
"As the sound of the sankirtan penetrated
the ether, the entire three worlds began to float on waves of happiness.
Huge crowds of people eagerly pushed forward to get a glimpse of
the Lord's beautiful dancing, as the demigods showered flowers on
His head. Even the lame, the blind, and the deaf suddenly forgot
their handicaps and hurried to join the sankirtan. Stonehearted
people wept in joy upon hearing the melodious chanting of the Lord's
holy names, and animals and birds became restless."
[Sri Narahari Chakravarti Thakura: Narottama Vilasa, fourth vilasa]
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