Today we traveled to Vrindavan, more specifically to the Iskon Temple. There are several reasons why this trip was unique. (Here follows a description of various Hindu terms—and this is all a side product of F's research for his Master's Thesis. He is just dictating this! No extra looking up. I've got a smart husband :) Starting now “I” means F is speaking)
Iskon stands for International Society of Krishna-cONsciousness. It is a proselyting group within the Bengal Vaishnavism (this introduction will take a bit of vocabulary, but just bear with us :) ) The first word you need to understand is “bhakti” (I sometimes wonder if George Lucas didn't steal this word for his bhakta tanks, but that's another kettle of fish).
“Bhakti” is usually translated as “devotion” and is used to distinguish it from other more mystical movements in Hinduism. In bhakti the devotee will worship and develop a relationship with one or more gods, but this relationship is one from personality to personality rather than from supreme-mystical-law-of-the-universe to human. Vaishnavism now goes one step further and not only has a single personal god, but declares that god to be the Supreme Being. Depending on which Vaishnava cult you ask, they will have different gods, be it Shiva, Krishna or some other god, as the Supreme God.
About 500 years ago there was a Krishna devotee called Caitanya Mahaprabhu, who lived in what is now divided into the West Bengal Province of India and Bengladesh. He founded a particular variety of Krishna bhakti and soon had many followers. This movement spread all over India until eventually in the 20th century disciples of a particular branch of Caitanya's disciples founded Iskon.
For some reason, the best way I can explain what this division of the Caitanya followers was like, in terms of organization, is comparing it to the dissolution of Alexander the Great's Empire at his death (so 2 history lessons rolled into 1! Bonus!). Each general ended up controlling a particular region of the empire and, while each maintained Greek civilization in their own way, local culture mixed in, until eventually you had as interesting a mix as Cleopatra's dynasty (yes, she was a descendant of one of Alexander's generals) and the Greek heartland. Thus, just because something claims to be Bengal Vaishnavism, doesn't mean that they would believe in exactly the same things or have the same modes of worship. Yet all of them would claim Caitanya as their progenitor.
Iskon is a modern iteration of Bengal Vaishnavism with the express focus of gathering new devotees outside of India. I say this partly so that, if you happen to go to an Iskon temple, don't think that it is 1) representative of Indian religion as a whole, or 2) representative of Krishna bhakti or 3) even of the Bengal Vaishnavism movement in particular. In all of the works on Caitanya Bengal Vaishnavism the particular Iskon “Hare Krishna” chanting is not mentioned anywhere as a particular way of worshiping Krishna. This chanting is the Iskon founder's personal interpretation of the principles of 1) remembering the name of Krishna and 2) repeating the mantra given to you by your guru. Thus, what they are doing is not contrary to the texts, but it is also not the sole way of interpreting the texts. (Where have we heard that before? Bible or Constitution, anyone?)
And the last two reasons why this place is unique are: a) Vrindavan is considered to be the birthplace and home of Krishna during his time as a human avatar. A defining feature of Krishna is his amorous relationships with the milkmaids of Vrindavan and thus, by extension, his loving relationship towards cows.
It certainly seemed that in Vrindavan there were even more cows than usual :) (thus making them 'holy cows' in a holy place with a god who considers them holy, so are they holy, holy, holy cows?) and b) one of the characters I am looking at in the novel for my thesis is a Bengal Vaishnava, who was given the assignment to take his widowed aunt to Vrindavan.
(Now back to me, S)
I have visited the Hare Krishna Temple in Spanish Fork, Utah several times. So, when we got to this Iskon temple, much of it was familiar to me. I knew the chant and enjoyed the singing call-and-response; fond memories :).
There were two main halls where this chanting was happening and many statues of the Iskon founder and others. There were also many depictions of Krishna, often with cows :)
and Radha, his favorite milkmaid.
On our previous tourist trips I had just worn 'normal western' clothing, but I decided that, going to a pilgrimage place, I should wear my sari. It was impressive how well I fit it! In fact we were almost appalled at how many white people there were—many in traditional Indian dress (men + women),
with the gold stripe on their forehead and the rosary bag in their hand. They were apparently using a string of beads and chanting “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare, Hare Rama Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare” for themselves. We'd kind of gotten used to our uniqueness, but here were so many light-haired, light-skinned people! Ah well, you can't have everything all the time :)
However, interestingly enough, there were two school girls that looked at me, giggled to each other and then came up and shook my hand. Later on they found me again, this time with a friend photographer in tow and wanted pictures with me. We took one together and then they each took one with me separately. I managed to get one of us together too :) The one girl seemed so thrilled that she kept hugging me and even kissed me on the cheek :D.
At that point we had been walking around the museum display about the history of Iskon. We were about halfway through the small display when the girls came up to us again, this time with some other students from their group and the same photographer. We again took a series of pictures; the girls were thrilled. There was also a small family that got in line to be photographed with us. First the wife and children and then the husband.
We were still in the little museum when the two girls came up to us again, with even more schoolmates, boys and girls, and wanted pictures again! These first two girls also insisted on individual pictures with us again! So apparently, despite not being the only white people on the block, we still had a certain charisma...(F thinks perhaps the fact that I have dark hair like they do but light skin may have something to do with it :) Who knows!)
We found the whole photography thing rather amusing, however the general bustling, almost trance-like religiosity is definitely not F's version of a temple. The quiet reverence and inner devotion of the Birla Temple was much more to his taste. In the smaller Spanish Fork Temple I had really enjoyed getting into the singing and dancing, but here there were just so many people!
Our second 'pilgrimage' of sorts was a very different affair. We went up to F's “mother's mother” (see Post Day 4). She invited us in and offered us some “light snacks”. (Indians seem to have a thing for food being “light” and “pure”. Perhaps we'll have a few moments later to share our hypotheses on these preferences.)
At first she gave us short 'cracker sticks'. They seemed to be fried savory pie crust dough strips with black caroway seeds. (“Light” and “fried” don't usually go together in my book, but okay. They were tasty!) She said that she would normally serve some 'pickle' (not to be confused with “pickles”) with it, but supposed that we wouldn't like it. We assured her that we would love to try it (and we had in fact already tried a few kinds of 'pickle', so we were optimistic.) This particular one was a sour-spicy-mango-pickle, made of unripe, baby mangoes and various Indian spices. (We haven't gotten her to tell us which ones yet, but that's a goal.)
Because we liked the snacks, she promised to give us a jar of them. And as our enjoyment of the pickle was also evident, she promised us some of that as well. It seems like the adoptive grandmother role suits her just fine :).
But then to the main reason for our visit. We wanted to go with her to the evening “satsang”, or religious service (or one possible translation would be “the true gathering of the devotees”). She drove us there in her car and then we parked in a parking lot. We walked the last 200m by foot as no emission-producing cars are allowed inside the actual Radhasoami colony (as they call it). (Bicycle rickshaws and electric cars/rickshaws are okay.)
Just before entering the building she arranged for F to go with a friend, as men and women sit separately. We left our shoes at the coat—I mean—shoe check and walked inside. The hall was large (square and one side was about the length of an NBA basketball court) and the floor was covered in blankets/carpets. There was a low (2 ft high) cloth barrier down the middle, denoting the different sides. At the front there was a slightly raised podium with a cushioned chair on it.
I noticed that F's adoptive grandma, as well as many of the other women, had covered their heads. I asked if I should and although she responded that I didn't need to, I pulled the end of my sari over my head. We wove our way close to the front and sat down. We had been sitting for about 10 minutes when I noticed many of the devotees looking in a specific direction (I couldn't see at what/whom exactly, because I was right next to the cloth barrier) and holding their hands together under their chins (in what I call the Namasté position). Their eyes were filled with devotion.
Eventually I saw a man, wearing white and stooped with age, approaching the podium, whom I recognized from the pictures in our apartment to be the current guru of the Radhasoami. 
As he reached the podium, he turned toward the assembled people and, with similarly steepled fingers, bowed his head in our direction. Then he took his seat on the podium and I waited expectantly for the meeting to begin.
As he reached the podium, he turned toward the assembled people and, with similarly steepled fingers, bowed his head in our direction. Then he took his seat on the podium and I waited expectantly for the meeting to begin.
After a few minutes I noticed that the guru's head began to nod and I worried that, if the meeting would only begin when he stood up, that we could be waiting a long time. (I did however have sympathy with him, because apparently they have a daily ½ hour satsang early in the morning and a daily 1 ½ hour satsang in the evening. As the leading guru of this group he must often be exhausted with all of his responsibilities. I know that our church leaders are sometimes also similarly exhausted.)
All the while people continued to arrive from the various entrances by ones and twos. At some point I wondered if this was supposed to be a time of reflection or meditation, so I reflected on a few scripture passages that I had been studying in the past weeks.
One speaks of the “power and goodness and mercy” of God that are over all the earth and that, because of his mercy, he will not allow any people who come unto him to perish (1 Nephi 1:14, Book of Mormon). I find that wonderful. The more recent passage that I've been pondering invites in simple words: “let us be faithful to him” (1 Nephi 7:12, Book of Mormon). After I had reviewed these passages I continued to look around. I then wondered if perhaps we had just arrived so early and that the meeting had not yet begun.
Ahead of me I saw a little girl glancing furtively at her mother as she slowly opened the zipper on a bag. She kept glancing and seemed to be hoping her mother wouldn't notice. She pulled out a paper and pencil, apparently wanting to draw. I smiled and considered that children were very similar, wherever you were. In our church meetings, especially in the main “sacrament meeting”, children often find the long period of sitting to be boring and so amuse themselves with drawing or some other quiet activity.
Even after all this, nothing seemed to have “happened”. I was also repeatedly amazed that such a large group of people could be so quiet and still except for the occasional cough or clearing of a throat. As it was, I think I jumped when suddenly music sprang on and everyone around me began to sing. I began to sing with them, even though I had no idea what the syllables meant. At least I recognized the occasional “radhasoami” **.
After this congregational singing, there was a solo-trio song from a group of women. I could only see the backs of the heads of the women sitting next to the microphone on the women's side, but I assumed they were the ones singing, because the microphone was illuminated. Then, at the conclusion of the song, the light above them was turned off and instead the microphone on the men's side was illuminated. A man read a passage of, I assume, scripture.
Then we sang again as a congregation (it seemed to be the same or at least a similar song as at the beginning.) Then the guru stood up and I thought “Oh good, now we will hear from him!” He again steepled his fingers, inclined his head to the congregation and the congregation responded in kind. Then he left the podium and walked away. During his walk, the congregation followed him with their eyes and devotion and then the 'suspense' was released and people began to talk, stand up and I was left confused that it already seemed to be over.
The next 'assignment' was to meet up with F's mentor, who was also in attendance. On the way I was surrounded by a small group of women, who asked me who had helped me with my sari. They were impressed that I had wound it alone. Upon F's asking if the satsang was always like that, we learned that the beginning had indeed been intended as a time of meditation (and that they meditate on “radhasoami”, which is similar to many Hindu groups meditating on a short mantra given to them by their guru.)
** The word “radhasoami” is a collection of sounds, which are considered the closest terrestrial approximations of the heavenly sounds encountered in different levels of consciousness. “Radhasoami” is also the name of the ultimate level of consciousness of the universe, which, similar to Catholic understanding of the trinity, is shapeless, bodiless and passionless.
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| And one more from Iskon for good measure :) |
Day 6: Sabbath or another day of rest
We held ‘mini church’ because there was no local congregation (the nearest being in Delhi, several hours away). So we sang some hymns together in harmony ;) (yay! I love that F sings) and we also listened to some talks/sermons from the recent General Conference of our church.
We again went to satsang in the evening. Apparently we had spent too long enjoying our ‘snacks’ and talking, because it had already started by the time we got there. (However, I didn’t think we were that late, so perhaps the meditation part was shorter?)
In any event there was a distribution of soap at the end for those who’d gotten there on time. Those who wanted soap paid for it, because, apparently, there were no donations for the local community. Instead they would pay for the little distributions of soap, oranges, etc. (When we asked about the donations, we were told that there were donations for big things like the Radhasoami temple.)
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