LBI, Guyana
One of the world’s longest floating bridges, set over the Demerara River, was out-of-bounds for pedestrians due to repairs on the walkway. Somehow, with a monk’s humble persuasion, passage was granted for Rupa and myself. It was 5:30AM. Rain was pouring. Drenched we were as we took that mile long rickety bridge. Waters below are known for the presence of electric eels, in the rivers incredible depth and speed. We felt on cloud nine because all traffic was stopped at the time we trekked the bridge. We had it all to ourselves. Now we hit land at Vreed-en-Hoop. Torrential rain persisted.
Noontime was spent at the busy market square. People know us as the “Haribols” which has become a common salutation. Shopkeepers and purchasers were eager to receive our hand bills promoting Padayatra. I found the butchers there with flesh pieces dangling to be exceptionally receptive. Some folks read the center page of Kaieteur News captioned “Walking Monk on Guyana Journey”. My objective here, of course, is to promote the spiritual culture of India – a culture that offers something for all. I am merely a humble servant and tiny component of the ancient mantra culture. If a little attention comes my way, it is then an opportunity to speak on behalf of the tradition.
The evening stage event was held at Ramkisson Lumber Yard. The business had been converted for one day into a spiritual oasis. A Trinidadian, Rajarsi, delivered an impactful message on Krishna Consciousness and Ajamila, a Bengali by birth, led a passionate chant. The last two evenings I engaged twelve young men in the drama, “The Gita” presented tonight. Good stuff boys! You looked good. The grand finale was chanting and drumming. Our venue had become a place of sweat, sweat, sweat.
No rum! No vodka! No meat, fish, or eggs would dare show their face at this festival. It’s just good, clean fun.
10 Km
One of the world’s longest floating bridges, set over the Demerara River, was out-of-bounds for pedestrians due to repairs on the walkway. Somehow, with a monk’s humble persuasion, passage was granted for Rupa and myself. It was 5:30AM. Rain was pouring. Drenched we were as we took that mile long rickety bridge. Waters below are known for the presence of electric eels, in the rivers incredible depth and speed. We felt on cloud nine because all traffic was stopped at the time we trekked the bridge. We had it all to ourselves. Now we hit land at Vreed-en-Hoop. Torrential rain persisted.
Noontime was spent at the busy market square. People know us as the “Haribols” which has become a common salutation. Shopkeepers and purchasers were eager to receive our hand bills promoting Padayatra. I found the butchers there with flesh pieces dangling to be exceptionally receptive. Some folks read the center page of Kaieteur News captioned “Walking Monk on Guyana Journey”. My objective here, of course, is to promote the spiritual culture of India – a culture that offers something for all. I am merely a humble servant and tiny component of the ancient mantra culture. If a little attention comes my way, it is then an opportunity to speak on behalf of the tradition.
The evening stage event was held at Ramkisson Lumber Yard. The business had been converted for one day into a spiritual oasis. A Trinidadian, Rajarsi, delivered an impactful message on Krishna Consciousness and Ajamila, a Bengali by birth, led a passionate chant. The last two evenings I engaged twelve young men in the drama, “The Gita” presented tonight. Good stuff boys! You looked good. The grand finale was chanting and drumming. Our venue had become a place of sweat, sweat, sweat.
No rum! No vodka! No meat, fish, or eggs would dare show their face at this festival. It’s just good, clean fun.
10 Km
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