Sunday, October 21, 2007 Toronto, Ontario, Canada
My training for marathon walking took place in this city at Moore Park Ravine. Toronto is a city that is relatively flat
but it is graced with the natural seetings of ravines. When strolling in them you would find it hard to believe you are
located in an urban situation. It is truly one of the city's treasures and for many visitors the ravines remain a best
kept secret for some unknown reason.
The colour and smell of autumn leaves is a treasure for sight and scent combined with the Indian summer airs that
bring out the best in the occasional pedestrian here. If you were to meet the same kind of passerby on Yonge
Street, the city's main thoroughfare on foot, you would swear that they were not the same person. Like a switch
that goes on and off, change the environment of someone and you change the person. It's like the difference
between night and day.
My guru, Srila Prabhupada, explained that the country is the mode of goodness, the city is the mode of passion and
the brothels are the mode of ignorance. It's a blessing to be able to escape from traffic aggravation in order to
release and relax in the ravine. One more thing that Prabhupada emphasized in relation to environment and the
modes of nature is that the temple atmosphere is beyond any mode of existence. It is one of transcendence.
Ultimately it is your own consciousness, or state of mind that determines the person. Physically you could be
strolling through a gorgeous nature trail but your mind could be in the gutter.
8 kms
B L O G S P O T
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
Tuesday, Oct. 16/07
Paris, France
This is a one day stop-over in this very fashion- conscious city. Regular chanting sessions held at subway exit Ste. Eustache by local Krishna devotees means that we are seen routinely in our traditional robes, dhotis for the boys and sarees for the girls. Just to compare responses from Soweto to this bar/café culture was remarkably distinct. People were tolerant here. In most cases our little group appeared invisible to many even though to my ears the chanting was soft and sweet. Indifferent might be the appropriate word. At least in this section of town every day life seems rather imbalanced being devoid of spiritual expression.
As far as balancing acts are concerned, bartenders at the outside cafes really know how to balance their drinks on a tray with one hand and outstretched fingers. I guess some people consider the feat cultural.
Truly though, when we speak of culture we must be speaking of depth and dimension. How can life have dimension without the spiritual element?
Paris, France
This is a one day stop-over in this very fashion- conscious city. Regular chanting sessions held at subway exit Ste. Eustache by local Krishna devotees means that we are seen routinely in our traditional robes, dhotis for the boys and sarees for the girls. Just to compare responses from Soweto to this bar/café culture was remarkably distinct. People were tolerant here. In most cases our little group appeared invisible to many even though to my ears the chanting was soft and sweet. Indifferent might be the appropriate word. At least in this section of town every day life seems rather imbalanced being devoid of spiritual expression.
As far as balancing acts are concerned, bartenders at the outside cafes really know how to balance their drinks on a tray with one hand and outstretched fingers. I guess some people consider the feat cultural.
Truly though, when we speak of culture we must be speaking of depth and dimension. How can life have dimension without the spiritual element?
Sunday Oct. 14/07
Soweto, South Africa
It was a two day event held yesterday and today and it’s called the festival of Chariots. Local people in the region of Mofollo Park had never seen anything like it- especially - the images in black is Jagannatha and accompanying forms are Baladeva and Subhadra. For them the sound was different, the beat of a different drum and that was enough to encourage many onlookers to jump into the fun of a procession moving party. One monk indicated that I had a knack for dancing like the black, “where do you get this from?’ “Some influence of past karma I guess”, was my response. A high point for me was reuniting with sannyasis (monks). To name them there was Kadamba Kanana Swami, the organizer of the event , Devamrita Swami, a black sannyasi who hails from New York and Kavichandra Swami, also from the U.S. who spends considerable time in the western coast of South Africa. Locally based is Bhakti Chaitanya Swami and like the others, he is a gentleman.
The length of walking today and yesterday was the length of the festival’s route, an approximate 5 or 6 kms. at the most.
Soweto, South Africa
It was a two day event held yesterday and today and it’s called the festival of Chariots. Local people in the region of Mofollo Park had never seen anything like it- especially - the images in black is Jagannatha and accompanying forms are Baladeva and Subhadra. For them the sound was different, the beat of a different drum and that was enough to encourage many onlookers to jump into the fun of a procession moving party. One monk indicated that I had a knack for dancing like the black, “where do you get this from?’ “Some influence of past karma I guess”, was my response. A high point for me was reuniting with sannyasis (monks). To name them there was Kadamba Kanana Swami, the organizer of the event , Devamrita Swami, a black sannyasi who hails from New York and Kavichandra Swami, also from the U.S. who spends considerable time in the western coast of South Africa. Locally based is Bhakti Chaitanya Swami and like the others, he is a gentleman.
The length of walking today and yesterday was the length of the festival’s route, an approximate 5 or 6 kms. at the most.
Thursday, Oct. 11/07
Lenasia, South Africa
I never would have believed that there would be a chill more intense than in Canada.
This is Africa, the land of sun and heat. Central Canada had reached some roasting days and when I left it was hot, but here…it’s cold.
Rsi , my host in Lensia and I walked the length from Lenasia South to Lenasia Proper. We rapped about the environment around us and also took to chanting on our beads. We passed by an assortment of residential neighbourhoods including squatters’ camps (informal settlements). I don’t know to call it a situation of abject poverty since some dwellers own a fancy car but it certainly is another world.- a realm of crowdedness and unkempt conditions. Highway K43 is flanked by barrenness, a red rocky terrain that leads us to Nirvana Drive where the Iskcon Lenasia temple is located.
My assignment in this area of Johannesburg was to assemble in marathon-time two dramas for the weekend. The first practice was a team of black youth who utilized body language techniques and mime to re-enact the pastime of Krishna’s birth. These youths illustrate excellent body agility. Also their sense of rythum is something I’ve always marveled at. All players are from Soweto and their presentation will be something refreshing for the expected attendance of black folks.
The second drama practice centered on the symptoms of the era in which we live. Like “The Seven Deadly Sins” of Christian theology a Vedic version of personal vice portrays lust, anger, greed, madness, envy, and illusion, the agents of Kali, the master of corruption. The players here are from Durban and Soweto and I never tire of watching the organic reshaping and remodeling of a drama that has been tackled before. The lines for the character of Lust are interesting. “ I merely impel a man to enjoy himself. Then as he hopelessly struggles to satiate desires that are insatiable, I consume him.”
11 kms.
Lenasia, South Africa
I never would have believed that there would be a chill more intense than in Canada.
This is Africa, the land of sun and heat. Central Canada had reached some roasting days and when I left it was hot, but here…it’s cold.
Rsi , my host in Lensia and I walked the length from Lenasia South to Lenasia Proper. We rapped about the environment around us and also took to chanting on our beads. We passed by an assortment of residential neighbourhoods including squatters’ camps (informal settlements). I don’t know to call it a situation of abject poverty since some dwellers own a fancy car but it certainly is another world.- a realm of crowdedness and unkempt conditions. Highway K43 is flanked by barrenness, a red rocky terrain that leads us to Nirvana Drive where the Iskcon Lenasia temple is located.
My assignment in this area of Johannesburg was to assemble in marathon-time two dramas for the weekend. The first practice was a team of black youth who utilized body language techniques and mime to re-enact the pastime of Krishna’s birth. These youths illustrate excellent body agility. Also their sense of rythum is something I’ve always marveled at. All players are from Soweto and their presentation will be something refreshing for the expected attendance of black folks.
The second drama practice centered on the symptoms of the era in which we live. Like “The Seven Deadly Sins” of Christian theology a Vedic version of personal vice portrays lust, anger, greed, madness, envy, and illusion, the agents of Kali, the master of corruption. The players here are from Durban and Soweto and I never tire of watching the organic reshaping and remodeling of a drama that has been tackled before. The lines for the character of Lust are interesting. “ I merely impel a man to enjoy himself. Then as he hopelessly struggles to satiate desires that are insatiable, I consume him.”
11 kms.
Sunday, 4 November 2007
Cuba to Canada
Thurs. Oct.3/07
Cuba - Canada
I am leaving Havana and flying back to Toronto.
I will not miss the diesel fumes spewing out of exhaust pipes. And I will not miss dog dung on the streets. But I will miss Cuba on the whole. The fine features of the place are the absence of billboards and ads of sexploitation, avocadoes, the Spanish architecture of Cathedrals and old model cars. I find the real treasure of Cuba is the people. They are genuine, warm, and display mutual respect for one another. In my communication (as best as I could do considering the language barriers) the exchange was great during walks. The saffron robes were a delight for many people. I was not seen as a threat or even any kind of tendency as such. I am looking forward to future visits.
5kms
Cuba - Canada
I am leaving Havana and flying back to Toronto.
I will not miss the diesel fumes spewing out of exhaust pipes. And I will not miss dog dung on the streets. But I will miss Cuba on the whole. The fine features of the place are the absence of billboards and ads of sexploitation, avocadoes, the Spanish architecture of Cathedrals and old model cars. I find the real treasure of Cuba is the people. They are genuine, warm, and display mutual respect for one another. In my communication (as best as I could do considering the language barriers) the exchange was great during walks. The saffron robes were a delight for many people. I was not seen as a threat or even any kind of tendency as such. I am looking forward to future visits.
5kms
Santa Mala, Cuba
Wed. Oct. 3/07
Santa Mala
People on the spiritual path often times read signs indicating what the future may bring and seek direction as to what project to pursue. Since my arrival to Cuba I have on the off-time been scripting a play, “Vamana” who is the walking avatar. His story is told in the book Srimad Bhagavatam in the second canto Eighth chapter, author Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. It’s fascinating.
There have been some quiet hours which allowed me to accomplish covering several pages of script. What brings me to the thought of “signs” is that by chance yesterday’s driver, Jiva’s brother-in –law is a theatre producer. Today in the home of a family in the rural district of Santa Mala the hosts were a couple, a filmmaker and she an actor of the stage.
This all just leaves me with something percolating in my head. A future stage production, perhaps! This is part of a portfolio aside from pilgrim walking. Theatre of the spirit has been my preoccupation for sometime and plenty of walking and chanting are times of inspiration that contribute to the making of a drama.
Most people, I believe, look for signs but not all trace them back to the source. I believe that’s important.
10kms.
Santa Mala
People on the spiritual path often times read signs indicating what the future may bring and seek direction as to what project to pursue. Since my arrival to Cuba I have on the off-time been scripting a play, “Vamana” who is the walking avatar. His story is told in the book Srimad Bhagavatam in the second canto Eighth chapter, author Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada. It’s fascinating.
There have been some quiet hours which allowed me to accomplish covering several pages of script. What brings me to the thought of “signs” is that by chance yesterday’s driver, Jiva’s brother-in –law is a theatre producer. Today in the home of a family in the rural district of Santa Mala the hosts were a couple, a filmmaker and she an actor of the stage.
This all just leaves me with something percolating in my head. A future stage production, perhaps! This is part of a portfolio aside from pilgrim walking. Theatre of the spirit has been my preoccupation for sometime and plenty of walking and chanting are times of inspiration that contribute to the making of a drama.
Most people, I believe, look for signs but not all trace them back to the source. I believe that’s important.
10kms.
CUBA
Tues. Oct. 2/07
Nature is always astonishing! This morning’s japa walk took Jiva and I to the Malecon once again. Though there is a slight breeze, sea waves crash against the sea wall and spill over with extended spray to hit two lanes of traffic.
Near the city of Matanzas nature there attracts tourists to the Bellamar cave. Jiva’s brother-in-law drove us there. A short history is that the Spanish proprietor of a piece of land had his Chinese hired hand, Mr. Wong, do some work and in the process his iron bar fell into a pit. The proprietor found enough courage to climb down and discover a wonder of crystal magic as he lit his torch. That was in 1861. As we climbed down our eyes captured a surreal appearance of pillars of lime and other deposits, stalactite and stalagmite. Some formations were hanging as if chandeliers a few meters long. Apertures leading to more darkness gave the distinct feel of another world. One large hole looked as if the sage, Vyasa, might be sitting silently inside. Three pools of spring water represent immortality; the pursuit of love, and the last is for those who dip in to take a sip and may be granted a divorce. Only the first pool may have some appeal for a monk who wishes to remain as one.
Matanzas is an old city of Spanish colonial charm. You go back in time. And like all of Cuba the old models of cars particularly from the 40’s renews nostalgia. How does a Hare Krishna monk fit into all of this? Well, it doesn’t seem to be a problem for people here or in Matanzas or Havana. The folk just have a built in piety. In the morning as I sat outside of the guest house clad in my swami garb waiting for Jiva, a woman in well overdone make up stopped at my spot, spoke something in Spanish and handed over a Cuban three pesos bill. “Gracias”, I replied
11kms.
Nature is always astonishing! This morning’s japa walk took Jiva and I to the Malecon once again. Though there is a slight breeze, sea waves crash against the sea wall and spill over with extended spray to hit two lanes of traffic.
Near the city of Matanzas nature there attracts tourists to the Bellamar cave. Jiva’s brother-in-law drove us there. A short history is that the Spanish proprietor of a piece of land had his Chinese hired hand, Mr. Wong, do some work and in the process his iron bar fell into a pit. The proprietor found enough courage to climb down and discover a wonder of crystal magic as he lit his torch. That was in 1861. As we climbed down our eyes captured a surreal appearance of pillars of lime and other deposits, stalactite and stalagmite. Some formations were hanging as if chandeliers a few meters long. Apertures leading to more darkness gave the distinct feel of another world. One large hole looked as if the sage, Vyasa, might be sitting silently inside. Three pools of spring water represent immortality; the pursuit of love, and the last is for those who dip in to take a sip and may be granted a divorce. Only the first pool may have some appeal for a monk who wishes to remain as one.
Matanzas is an old city of Spanish colonial charm. You go back in time. And like all of Cuba the old models of cars particularly from the 40’s renews nostalgia. How does a Hare Krishna monk fit into all of this? Well, it doesn’t seem to be a problem for people here or in Matanzas or Havana. The folk just have a built in piety. In the morning as I sat outside of the guest house clad in my swami garb waiting for Jiva, a woman in well overdone make up stopped at my spot, spoke something in Spanish and handed over a Cuban three pesos bill. “Gracias”, I replied
11kms.
CUBA
Mon. Oct 1/07
Edwardo is a young muscular black man who spotted me walking along Malecon Ave. He decided to join me. He was friendly, spoke some English and offered to be a self appointed guide to parts of the city. He asked for nothing and respected that I was “praying on the rosario”, (as he put it). He stayed with me a good while. I believe he just wanted some company and generally finds himself a bit lost. I met a woman at the Indian embassy who wanted to talk. Her complaint was on behalf of capitalism. Complaining goes on everywhere. There is no greater contagious disease. Whether in the first, second or third world, whining is all pervasive and it means usually that we don’t count blessings.
I would also rate gossip on par with complaints. Yes, two diseases that keep us firmly in illusion’s grip are rumour-mongoring and whining.
Evenings are spent chanting with people. I usually beat a rhythm to the mrdunga drum, lead the chant and have a good rest after the work out.
10kms.
Edwardo is a young muscular black man who spotted me walking along Malecon Ave. He decided to join me. He was friendly, spoke some English and offered to be a self appointed guide to parts of the city. He asked for nothing and respected that I was “praying on the rosario”, (as he put it). He stayed with me a good while. I believe he just wanted some company and generally finds himself a bit lost. I met a woman at the Indian embassy who wanted to talk. Her complaint was on behalf of capitalism. Complaining goes on everywhere. There is no greater contagious disease. Whether in the first, second or third world, whining is all pervasive and it means usually that we don’t count blessings.
I would also rate gossip on par with complaints. Yes, two diseases that keep us firmly in illusion’s grip are rumour-mongoring and whining.
Evenings are spent chanting with people. I usually beat a rhythm to the mrdunga drum, lead the chant and have a good rest after the work out.
10kms.
Friday, 2 November 2007
Sun. Sept.30/07
If there is any food that is in abundance in Cuba it’s the avocado. A new surprise to me is a fruit resembling the papaya in shape but tasting like the chicoo that you get in India. It’s called mamey and it’s definitely fit to be offered with the recitation of mantras before a deity or picture of Krishna just as the cooked food is offered. Jiva Goswami Das is my trusted companion to conduct this simple process while I’m here.
While I see no homeless folks an occasional dog does not have such luxury. A small stray dog decides to tag along with Jiva and me as we chant on our beads as we walk through the streets. Calypso/Caribbean music subsides all around at about the time we tread on our heels, 5am. People are curious about the robes. An elder gentleman even called them ,”Elegante!”
Another piece of information about Cuban culture that is very conducive to a monk’s lifestyle is the prohibition on pornography. Prostitution is also against the law. Another favorable note to the people here is that I see very little obesity here, nor did I see anyone scrawny. They look quite fit.
So far as taking care of my health goes it’s a standard 10kms a day walk or more. Unique today was foot care; Jiva today took an hour and a half to scrape away at what seemed like tons of dead foot skin. It was an accumulation of months of lifeless skin and it was time to dispose of it after that trailblazing marathon. Jiva took a pumice scraper and grazed away at regions I would not be able to see. He worked hard.
It would be nice if all the bad karma and bad habits could be eliminated at a single sitting like this.
10 kms.
If there is any food that is in abundance in Cuba it’s the avocado. A new surprise to me is a fruit resembling the papaya in shape but tasting like the chicoo that you get in India. It’s called mamey and it’s definitely fit to be offered with the recitation of mantras before a deity or picture of Krishna just as the cooked food is offered. Jiva Goswami Das is my trusted companion to conduct this simple process while I’m here.
While I see no homeless folks an occasional dog does not have such luxury. A small stray dog decides to tag along with Jiva and me as we chant on our beads as we walk through the streets. Calypso/Caribbean music subsides all around at about the time we tread on our heels, 5am. People are curious about the robes. An elder gentleman even called them ,”Elegante!”
Another piece of information about Cuban culture that is very conducive to a monk’s lifestyle is the prohibition on pornography. Prostitution is also against the law. Another favorable note to the people here is that I see very little obesity here, nor did I see anyone scrawny. They look quite fit.
So far as taking care of my health goes it’s a standard 10kms a day walk or more. Unique today was foot care; Jiva today took an hour and a half to scrape away at what seemed like tons of dead foot skin. It was an accumulation of months of lifeless skin and it was time to dispose of it after that trailblazing marathon. Jiva took a pumice scraper and grazed away at regions I would not be able to see. He worked hard.
It would be nice if all the bad karma and bad habits could be eliminated at a single sitting like this.
10 kms.
Sat. Sept.29/07
Havana, Cuba
Customs security asked me how I know people in Cuba. “Friends from Canada,” I replied.
My room is in a guest house on San Lazaro and is spacious enough and air conditioned. Weather outside is hot and humid. The notice on the wall of the room reads the conditions of renting in Spanish, English and French. One of them is underlined. “It’s completely forbidden to visit the apartment of persons which are less than 18 yrs. old.” This is of course, one of the signs that the government exerts a control over; controlling promiscuity isn’t a bad thing.
Upon meeting the guest house master and seeing people in their everyday carefree style releases any tiny tension I might have about communist governance in Cuba. I find people pleasant and rather warm. I had even met Simon Cridland, the Canadian consulate at the Embassy. I wanted to let him know I’m here, that I walked Canada thrice and had my eyes on Cuba for the future. He was gracious.
The early morning walk along Malecon, the wide street edged by the south shore of the Gulf of Mexico, was a chance to meet folks. Jiva Goswami, a Cuban devotee, accompanied me. A large billboard in Spanish read with a close–up statue of Liberty, surprised….. remarking, “What? You have given freedom to terrorists?” Officers along the way return my nod or salute. The robes I’m in are a fresh sight for the locals.
I see no homeless people like those in India or even in North American cities. Food is somewhat hard to come by which is a contradiction in this fertile land. Christiana Bauhman, a retired German Canadian, was my flight partner enroute to Havana and she loves Cuba but concurred that Cuba is a land of contradictions.
10kms.
Havana, Cuba
Customs security asked me how I know people in Cuba. “Friends from Canada,” I replied.
My room is in a guest house on San Lazaro and is spacious enough and air conditioned. Weather outside is hot and humid. The notice on the wall of the room reads the conditions of renting in Spanish, English and French. One of them is underlined. “It’s completely forbidden to visit the apartment of persons which are less than 18 yrs. old.” This is of course, one of the signs that the government exerts a control over; controlling promiscuity isn’t a bad thing.
Upon meeting the guest house master and seeing people in their everyday carefree style releases any tiny tension I might have about communist governance in Cuba. I find people pleasant and rather warm. I had even met Simon Cridland, the Canadian consulate at the Embassy. I wanted to let him know I’m here, that I walked Canada thrice and had my eyes on Cuba for the future. He was gracious.
The early morning walk along Malecon, the wide street edged by the south shore of the Gulf of Mexico, was a chance to meet folks. Jiva Goswami, a Cuban devotee, accompanied me. A large billboard in Spanish read with a close–up statue of Liberty, surprised….. remarking, “What? You have given freedom to terrorists?” Officers along the way return my nod or salute. The robes I’m in are a fresh sight for the locals.
I see no homeless people like those in India or even in North American cities. Food is somewhat hard to come by which is a contradiction in this fertile land. Christiana Bauhman, a retired German Canadian, was my flight partner enroute to Havana and she loves Cuba but concurred that Cuba is a land of contradictions.
10kms.
Tuesday, 16 October 2007
Friday, Sept. 28/07
Toronto, Ont.
Hello everyone! I’m back but not on the long road. I’m still traveling and everyday on foot offers new stories to tell, realizations and so on.
Doug, who had been given the name Daruka over the summer as a gesture of appreciation in an initiation process, had driven us along with Billie to Toronto. Daruka moved on to his home, Winnipeg. I joked “there goes the pirate and the parrot”. I referred to him as a pirate not only because of his feathered friend whose usually perched on his shoulder but because he had covered many miles (not nautical miles) over the land. It’s been an adventure. Like the life of a pirate. There’s been no looting, robbing or murder. And no battles for him, save and except for battling the mind.
Since his departure I’ve done daily walks while chanting on beads. The routes have been streets near the temple where I live-Yonge, Bloor, Davenport, Spadina Streets. I also included ravines, as the more flavored paths. Ryan is a new monk in the ashram and I have shown him the great escape areas from the city. He was surprised to discover “the green scene”, tucked secretly away from the asphalt jungle.
A week ago I traveled by car with a sister, Connie and her daughter, my niece Taralyn, to see our ailing father. At 88, hospital-bound for now he struggles to eat. No appetite and cannot walk. Diagnosing at this point doesn’t reveal the actual cause for the weakness. We endeavor to make him as comfortable as possible. I thank him again for all he has done for me. My private chanting, japa these last few days is in dedication to him.
Even if one has taken to the renounced order of life it doesn’t mean you renounce your humanism.
After the drive to Chatham and back I prepared for the next trip. Flight 964 on Air Canada takes me to a country I have never been before—Cuba.
Toronto, Ont.
Hello everyone! I’m back but not on the long road. I’m still traveling and everyday on foot offers new stories to tell, realizations and so on.
Doug, who had been given the name Daruka over the summer as a gesture of appreciation in an initiation process, had driven us along with Billie to Toronto. Daruka moved on to his home, Winnipeg. I joked “there goes the pirate and the parrot”. I referred to him as a pirate not only because of his feathered friend whose usually perched on his shoulder but because he had covered many miles (not nautical miles) over the land. It’s been an adventure. Like the life of a pirate. There’s been no looting, robbing or murder. And no battles for him, save and except for battling the mind.
Since his departure I’ve done daily walks while chanting on beads. The routes have been streets near the temple where I live-Yonge, Bloor, Davenport, Spadina Streets. I also included ravines, as the more flavored paths. Ryan is a new monk in the ashram and I have shown him the great escape areas from the city. He was surprised to discover “the green scene”, tucked secretly away from the asphalt jungle.
A week ago I traveled by car with a sister, Connie and her daughter, my niece Taralyn, to see our ailing father. At 88, hospital-bound for now he struggles to eat. No appetite and cannot walk. Diagnosing at this point doesn’t reveal the actual cause for the weakness. We endeavor to make him as comfortable as possible. I thank him again for all he has done for me. My private chanting, japa these last few days is in dedication to him.
Even if one has taken to the renounced order of life it doesn’t mean you renounce your humanism.
After the drive to Chatham and back I prepared for the next trip. Flight 964 on Air Canada takes me to a country I have never been before—Cuba.
Monday, 8 October 2007
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