The Polish Festival tour finale...

Moments later a woman came up to me, pulling her son by the arm behind her.

"My son is too self-conscious about the mole on his cheek," she said. "We argue about it constantly. Please convince him he shouldn't worry about it."

Taken by surprise I hesitated for a moment. Then I looked at the boy. "Our understanding," I said, "is that we are not these bodies. We are the spirit souls within the body. Compared with the soul, which is truly beautiful, everyone's body is imperfect. So do not be so concerned about your outward appearance."

The mother shook the boy. "You see," she said. "The man says you're not that body. You are a soul. So stop being so upset about that stupid mole." With that she turned and took him away.

Five minutes later a group of muscular skinheads, their chests bared, came charging into our site. They picked up one of our women, pulled up her shirt and began passing her back and forth. Because of the dense crowd, it took security a few moments to realize what was happening. By the time they reacted, the skinheads had dropped the devotee and were running towards the Temple tent 40 meters away.

As three of them charged in screaming, "Smash the altar!" one of our tour devotees stepped forward to confront them. Though they were bigger than he, he quickly floored the first intruder with a kick to the head. The other two men jumped on top of him and soon all four of them were rolling out of the tent punching and kicking.

As the fire chief in Niechorze had predicted, it rained endlessly as we continued our festivals along the Baltic Sea coast in July. The Polish media attributed the unprecedented bad weather to global warming. Pious local farmers concluded it was because God was displeased with the government's compromise on market prices with the European Union. One new devotee (exhausted after many days of long Harinamas) went so far as to suggest we might be doing too many Harinama yajnas because yajnas cause rain to fall.

As a beautiful sunset filled the horizon and daytime came to an end, rain clouds suddenly filled the sky. As the rain clouds rumbled deeply the Vaisnavas became anxious. Realizing a disturbance had come, they became unhappy. 'How can we escape this disturbance?' they thought. At that time Lord Caitanya began to play karatalas and loudly chant the holy names. In their hearts the demigods felt that their lives had become successful. Craning their necks, they eagerly gazed at Lord Gaura from the sky. Then the rain clouds fled, the sky became clear, and the Vaisnavas all became joyful.

"Are you writing something for your diary?" Sujal said.

"No," I said, "I'm writing a report for Udupi Krsna."

"A report to the Deity?" he said.

When we finally arrived at the temple, my heart was pounding. I jumped out of the car and made my way through the thick crowd of people to the exact spot in front of the Lord where I had stood 27 years ago. I bowed down quickly, knowing I wouldn't have much time in front of the Deity. I stood up and looked carefully through a small lattice window where pilgrims see the Deity.

"One day thirty-five men, all armed with AK 47s, burst in while we were having Srimad-Bhagavatam class. They had come to steal. They ordered us to lie on the floor. When they saw the murti of Srila Prabhupada on his vyasasana, they screamed at him, 'Get down on the floor like the others!'

"Of course, the murti didn't move. Three or four times they yelled at Srila Prabhupada in an increasingly threatening tone. 'Get down or we'll shoot you!' one of them shouted while pointing his rifle at the murti. Then the thieves became frightened by what they saw as Srila Prabhupada's fearlessness and suddenly fled. Srila Prabhupada saved us!"

dasa gosvaminam vande
nama bhajana samsrayam
yamya dese guruddesya
sthapakam srita vatsalam

"I offer my respectful obeisances to Dasa Goswami, who helped pioneer the mission of Srila Prabhupada in the southernmost tip of the world. He is devoted to bhajan and is caring and affectionate to all those who take shelter of his lotus feet."

I am writing my offering to you today at Sankari Cor, a most sacred place at the foot of Varsana hill, in Sri Vrindavan Dhama. Though I have visited this holy tirtha a number of times, I still cannot fathom my good fortune in being here. Nevertheless, I am fully aware that the source of such auspiciousness is your Divine Grace.

Indradyumna Swami in Vrndavana for Kartika...

Soon after our Govardhana parikrama, we visited Uchagaon, the appearance place of Lalita devi, Srimati Radharani's closest sakhi. For days I had prepared myself by reading about Lalita devi - her personal qualities, her special mood, and her service in Radha and Krishna's pastimes. As hundreds of us walked along the dusty road leading to the hill where Lalita's village was, I was thinking about my spiritual master, Srila Prabhupada. Only by his grace could I even set foot in such a holy place.

As we were crossing a bridge over a small river, I noticed two of our devotees speaking to a farmer on the other side. The farmer was an older man, typical of many Vrajavasis - dressed in a simple white dhoti, old shoes, a vest, and an old chaddar. I thought it odd that the devotees were speaking with him for so long.

"They certainly don't speak the local Vrajavasi dialect," I thought, "and surely a poor farmer like him doesn't speak English."

When I reached the group, I was surprised to hear the farmer speaking English fluently. I listened for a moment and then spoke to him. "Sir," I said, "how is it that you speak such good English?"

Exhausted, Dhruva and I fell fast asleep in our seats. We slept for over an hour and woke up at the same time.

"Dhruva!" I said excitedly. "I just had an amazing dream. I dreamt we were on Harinama in a Muslim village. As we chanted through the village all the people came out of their houses to sing with us. They were singing 'Allah Akbar!' and we were singing 'Hare Krishna.' We all joined hands and danced together in bliss. It was so vivid!"

Dhruva looked at the tiger's tooth around my neck. "Guru Maharaja," he said, "that's exactly what the man said would happen if you wore that tiger's tooth. Just imagine if we'd been able to get the peacock feather, the coin, the deity of Ganesh, and the special pot that neutralizes poison."

This is the second to latest story from Indradyumna Swami. They say the Irish are always good for a yarn...

After hearing a little Irish history, I couldn't help but ask a question I'd always had about the country.

"Are there really leprechauns?" I said.

"No Irishman will deny it," a devotee said with a smile.

Then his face became serious. "But you can never borrow money from them," he said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because they're always a little short," he said with a grin.

The devotees burst into laughter, and I lost all hope for the existence of Ireland's fabled creatures."

"Just see the entire material world as a jail," I said, "with four great walls: birth, disease, old age, and death. It's the same as an ordinary prison: everyone suffers here, and it's hard to get out."

Victor listened intently.

"Chanting the holy names is the only way to get freedom from material existence," I continued. "If you're serious about getting out, you'll chant."

"Thank you, Guru Maharaja," he said. "I promise to chant 16 rounds a day."

The day before I left, I initiated 10 people, bringing the number of my disciples close to 2,000. The next morning as I was packing to leave, I had a small seizure. My body stiffened, my neck and arms were full of intense pain, and I couldn't speak. It lasted only a minute or two but left me exhausted. As I went to lie on my bed I tried to understand why it had happened.

I often ask my disciples how they joined the Krsna consciousness movement, and in Odessa I found the story of a mother and daughter, particularly interesting. It is often miraculous how fallen souls are reunited with the Lord and His devotees.

But as always, our success was the envy of our opposition, who stepped up their campaign to discredit us. The local priest in the town where we stayed continued his daily postings on the town bulletin board, sometimes going beyond the ridiculous: "Attention, citizens! The Hare Krsna cult is now growing rice in the football field to feed the guru."

Today, just now, I spoke on the phone to my husband in Hong Kong where he is visiting for preaching en route to Vrindavana.

I asked him to send me a photograph. Something for the blog. To share with those who visit.

I had in mind some city views, but he sent this one. Wow !!!

As I left the Book tent I saw the head of the security company that guards our festivals. He was part of a team of four security men protecting the festivals during the month leading up to Woodstock. Another group from the company has since replaced them, but he was in uniform and appeared to be on duty.

"What a surprise!" I said. "I thought you had gone home for a vacation."

He laughed. "Yes," he said, "I am on vacation, on your tour. When I got home I missed the festivals so much I decided to come back with my family. They're watching the stage show, and I'm guarding the event."

"Really?" I said. "You mean you're working during your vacation?"

"I don't consider it work," he said. "It's pleasure."

We opened our village early the next morning, a day before the festival - a tradition we have maintained for years. Within minutes, long lines of young people formed in front of our food-distribution tent. I joined the servers, and the first person who came forward greeted me with a smile. "I've been waiting a whole year for this meal," he said.

This is one of the best episodes I've read from Indradyumna Swami at the Woodstock Festival in Poland.

Get it while you can! Use the temporary health of this temporary body to chant and dance in ecstasy. In this way, you attain the supreme eternal, even while within this temporary world.

"‘Simply by chanting the holy name of Krsna one can obtain freedom from material existence. Indeed, simply by chanting the Hare Krsna mantra one will be able to see the lotus feet of the Lord." (Cc. Adi 7.73)

‘These Hare Krsna people are nice. We want more of them.'

Amritananda dasa and I were on our way to set up a festival when we stopped at a car lot in Trzebiatow to look at a truck. We were greeted by the owner of the lot, a man in his 70s.

"You have not been here for a long time," he said. "For years you held your festival every summer here. Then you stopped, and you started doing them nearby, in Mrzezyno."

"More people," I said quickly. I was anxious to see the truck and get to the festival.

"Do you know how much the people of Trzebiatow miss your festivals?" he said. "We're a small country town, and nothing ever happens here. Your festivals were the highlight of the year for us."

That's the last time I saw my luggage, along with 20,000 other very cheesed-off passengers with missing bags - that's on British airways alone. And of course I had to stow EVERYTHING as check on - even my computer and all of what is usually my carry-on.

So I am here in Ljubljana, capital of Slovenia, experiencing the bitter sweet taste of renunciation.

Alas, I've gone and done a lot of experimenting and have a list of my tips to really maximize battery life for my laptop.

Like a commando team, our group of devotees, in the predawn darkness, drove off in a van for a special, sacred mission. Our secret target: the lotus feet of Sri Jagannatha, Sri Baladeva, and Sri Subhadra. It's the Day After--the wee hours of the morning following Rathayatra. The carts and the Deities are now parked outside the Gundica Temple. Later this day the Deities will come down and enter their temporary home at Gundica.

Though I relished every minute of my pilgrimage to Jagannatha Puri, I was worried about the Polish tour. With Jayatam dasa and me in Puri, all the responsibility for organizing the tour was on Nandini dasi. Nandini is certainly capable, but taking care of the whole tour is a lot for one person.

Materially we're in Puri, a small city of 125,000, near Bhubaneshwar, the capital of Orissa, on the central east coast of India. Spiritually, however, we're in Sri Purushottama-kshetra, also known as Niladri or Nilacala--the famous home of Lord Jagannatha and His mandira. It's Rathayatra day. Our small party had special passes allowing our presence in the special cordoned area where the Rath carts waited for the Deities to arrive from the Jagannath Temple nearby.

Sitting at the place where Srila Haridas Thakura chanted 300,000 holy names of the Lord daily, I was determined to take my chanting to a deeper level. The potency of this most holy tirtha is so thick, you could suck it through a straw. Nothing else to do here except try to chant attentively. For me that is paradise.

Indradyumna Swami in San Diego...

In San Diego, on one of the last days of the tour, I visited the home of Guru Gauranga dasa, the sponsor of my festival program on the island of Mauritius. We made plans for the program and decided that we would hold it in April next year.

When I looked at his altar, I was taken by the beauty of the only Deity present, a salagrama-sila. Having worshiped salagrama-silas for years, I immediately saw that this Deity was special. He was small, perfectly round, smooth, and shiny. I remembered a verse from the Padma-purana, where Lord Visnu tells Brahma that smaller salagramas give the most auspicious results:

"O Brahma, in that sila, small like an amalaki fruit, I remain eternally with My divine consort, Srimati Laksmidevi."

The young man with melancholy eyes listened curiously as I explained the Krishna conscious lifestyle. "A swami, a monk, eh?" he pondered aloud. Then a grizzled, worn-out hippy in his forties shrieked derisively: "Man, that's bogus spirituality! Any true guru knows that the more sex you have, the more you're liberated!" Infected, the younger man, no longer reflective, erupted with the fervor of an evangelist at the peak of his sermon. Eyes ablaze, he proclaimed, "I've had true ecstasy through sensuality!" Groaning, I sank into my chair.

Devamrta Swami at Soho St...

What a location, what an urban-outreach delight! Almost right outside the door pass millions of tourists and Britons daily. The nearby theater district beckons with premier plays. But what mundane drama can compare to Lord Narasimha's pastime: the ultimate horror movie.

The latest from Devamrta Swami...

Nations rise and fall; bodies take birth and die. One day soon our present bodies will no longer exist. Maybe my MRI tests will show no major problem--this time. But what about the future? For sure, one day there'll be no cure, for you or me.

Devamrta Swami meditates on his service as GBC Chairman last year. The conclusion is; service to Krsna has its rewards despite the fact the going gets tough some times. I can relate to that. But it's always worth it.

Nevertheless, let me proclaim it boldly: nothing in this world can compare to the cloudburst of satisfaction from the Lord and the spiritual master that graciously rains down upon devotees who voluntarily accept responsibility in the worldwide service of Mahaprabhu. That divine shower is the inestimable payoff for our accepting what, to ordinary vision, can appears a thankless and arduous task--staffing Prabhupada's movement."

Here's the latest from Indradyumna Swami as promised. Thanks to Sita-pati Prabhu.

Each day, before downloading my email, I mentally prepare myself for dealing with the good, the bad, and the ugly. With hundreds of disciples and many other devotees regularly corresponding with me, the laws of nature force me to see the gamut of situations in this world.

I just got the latest Diary from Indradyumna Swami. This is the second to latest. I'll wait till the new one is up on his site before posting it.

One may read Bhagavad-gita many times, but the philosophy can take years, or even lifetimes, to assimilate, and even a devotee may lament when he loses something or someone dear to him in this world. The day before I left India for America, I received an email from my dearest and most beloved friend, Sri Prahlada dasa...