(by Makhancora Dasa)
Coming back from the Hare Krsna centre in Montreal after blissful 7 weeks of harinam-sankirtan at the end of August and after blissfully celebrating Sri Krsna Janmastami and Srila Prabhupadás Vyasa puja at the beginning of September I thought to myself: “Why not go around a bit, sit down anywhere and chant Hare Krsna, distribute some books and prasadam and tell people about Krsna?” Because that is what we, devotees, do. I thought: “I’m in here in Slovakia, but I can do this anywhere. Why not go on the Road?“, as my childhood hero Jack Kerouac would say it. And so the idea became fixed in my mind more and more, although, in fact, I was contemplating such a trip since spring. Taking 30 euros for the case of utter urgency and leaving the bank card in the asram, I went.
I took off quite later than I thought I will because of some duties. Yet, my waiting for the time and dates to fulfill those duties was useless… It had to do with my welfare, that insignificant support I was collecting from the state. Regular meetings in the office, being forced to look for a job while I already have my job – helping to spread Krsna consciousness, bullied by frustrated clerks, finally I just dropped the whole thing. The lady told me: “So yoúll come for the next contact on the 30th of September.” Yeah, right… I already had my ticket for Berlin booked. Sorry. This is the end of my “career” at the welfare office. Now I will have to depend more on Krsna really. That’s more brahminical. After all, I have taken second initiation in summer.
I boarded a cheap flight to Berlin on the 20th of September without any real idea where I’m going. My only idea was to roam around a bit and chant Hare Krsna and tell about Krsna to anyone who’ll be interested. The first night in Berlin I spent in a forest close to the airport, there was a lake also, so I could take bath in the morning. This was my focus when looking for a place to stay, to always have some water nearby. I made a little fire, the flame burned peacefully through the night. The next day I went to town, trying to find a place to stay in one of the squats. Squat is a vacant house which is being occupied, mostly without permission, by so called alternative folks. After the fall of Berlin Wall all the people from the eastern part of Berlin fled to the west, being freed from communistic oppressions, envisioning paradise in the world of free market and democracy that opened up for them, and all the lefties, punks and anarchists, disgusted by the consumerism and oppressions of capitalism (though more subtle then the “red” ones) fled from west to east to fill up the vacant houses, even whole blocks of flats remaining after the exodus of their inhabitants. Thus, during the 90´s in a quarter called Kreuzberg there were up to 800 squats. Later, when that part of the city became attractive and lucrative again, the state started to crack on the squatters. Big fights: “this is mine!” “No, it belongs to the people!” “No, it belongs to the city!” “No, it belongs to…” They forgot that everything belongs to Krsna. Bhoktaram yajna tapasam sarva loka mahesvaram… (Bg. 5.29). Big fights, big riots. In due corse of time it became Berlin folklore. Something for unconventional tourists also. But the pressure of the establishment is still there, under the surface.
First I went to check out Köpi 137, a famous place of resistance which is there for some 23 years already. But I have to say that I wasn’t very inspired by what I have seen. It was actually a very dark place and the people I met there were also kind of grumpy. A fat rat emerged from one pile of garbage and disappeared in another. They didn’t accept guests, which was ok with me, because I already wasn’t 100% sure if I want to stay there. An old punk warrior with neon green hair and tattoos and piercings all over his face directed me to another place called Rauchhaus, just around the corner. There it was a bit brighter – nice permaculture garden, piano sounds coming from a nearby music school and they had a guest room also. I shared it with 5 other people. Joshi – a single mother with her cca 10 years old son. She looked quite worn down by life, she said they’re waiting for an apartment a.k.a they were on the street; in the evening and at night she would smoke ganja to forget all the trouble. An epitome of what Prabhupada would call “the unprotected woman of Kali-yuga.” Then there was Alessandro from Italy, a guy working on market stands, sitting at the table, rolling cigarettes and joints, speaking with half-opened mouth and eyes about refugees and revolutions and all these leftie ideas, going to sleep late at night, heavily coughing early in the morning from his dreams, and there were others whom I didn’t have the opportunity to speak to really. “Rauch” in German means “to smoke” and the place was “Rauch house”.
First night was quite heavy… late talks, smoking, talks, smoking, I wouldn´t mind the talks that much, just put on my earphones and hear bhajans, but the smoke was a bit too much. At daytime I´d go to Alexanderplatz to chant the holy names and collect some donations by busking in this way. The chanting was sweet but the collections were very poor. I´d play 2-3 hours and collect 3e on the first, 0,07e on the second and some 2e on the third day. I didn’t mind. The name floated in the air and entered so many ears. Up to that day most of those ears were probably only snakeholes (SB 2.3.20).
The last night in Berlin I spent again by a lake, in a forest, close to an airport, but on the other side of the city. It´s even called “Flughafen See” – airport lake. When I came there I witnessed a surreal scene when a girl on the beach was trying to shoot heroin or what, being helped by her sidekick; more than half an hour she was unable to find a vein to put the needle in, desiring intensely to fly into the high of hardcore intoxication, or maybe just to relieve herself from the pains of her addiction, while a pair of fully equipped scuba-divers were preparing themselves in the water to dive into the depths of the lake. Quick! Call Dali or Kubrick! Bummer, they´re dead… Or maybe Lynch! Anyway, everyone has his way how to have fun. I chanted my japa. Hare Krsna Hare Krsna, Krsna Krsna, Hare Hare. At night a herd of wild pigs came with great noise and they were rumbling in the forest just few meters from me. I got a bit disturbed. What can a ferocious wild pig do to you? In the morning they came again. I saw them quite closely and they were kind of cute. In the darkness of night everything seems different. In darkness of night we tend to accept things for something else than they are. That is called illusion, maya. How funny, seeing these analogies right in front of my eyes. And some impudent swans showed up as well. Far different from the swans described in the Vedas. Hissing and coming in group they were actually aggressive in order to get some food. I gave them prasadam. And to the fishes I gave some too. A couple came to have a BBQ. Beers, sausages… “Haribol! Haribol!” the boy shouts at me… It´s all just a covering. The soul is there the same in everyone… an eternal beautiful servant of Krsna.
I took off towards Copenhagen. I started to hitchhike. It was very easy and people who picked me up were very helpful, taking me to places I needed to be to go on stopping cars, even though it was off their own ways. That evening I got to Gedser, Denmark, taking rest by the sea. In the morning I collected blackberries and flowers to worship Srila Prabhupada. Nature always provides for those who worship her Controller and His pure devotee. The way to Copenhagen was nice. Danish countryside, somewhat sleepy, riding with an elderly lady who didn’t speak English. She didn’t mind though and was very lively, always telling me something in Danish. We had a good time and I pulled out my little harmonium and chanted a kirtan in the car. She knew the mantra a bit and joined along. The precious moment of thoroughly understanding each other.
In Naestved she was to drop me off, but didn’t know exactly where it would be the best for me. She wanted to help me more. At the train station she approached a bunch of youngsters and one boy, although looking a bit dodgy, jumped on his scooter and rode in front of us, leading us directly to the road out of town, my direction. He seemed dodgy to me, but just see his willingness. “Don’t judge” I told myself.
Copenhagen is a beautiful, peaceful and safe city, very progressive and ‘user friendly’. A place for those with pious background, good karma, high standard. People smile and say ‘Hi’ to strangers and they also like to contribute donations to singing monks. Chanting there was great and people were appreciating the sweet melodies of kirtan with blissful smiles. The mantra was spreading over a bridge where I sat and bicycle riders often slowed down to hear, to unknowingly let Krsna enter their hearts. I went on harinam for three days there.
I mostly hanged around Christiania, the ‘Free town of Copenhagen’. The project which also begun by squatting a vacant military facility celebrated its 45th anniversary right the day I came there. But that I didn’t know yet. Sound systems in the streets, concert on a big stage, hundreds of people – hippies, punks, rastas, dealers, oldtimers and who knows what, a big cloud of ganja smoke, all-pervading and omnipresent like God Himself hovered over the place; “Haribol!” I heard from one girl, “Hare Krsna!” I responded. Very nice. I wandered around for a while, but more than to “party” I wanted to find shelter. Is this something special going on here or is it like this every day? Confusion in my mind. I had to walk quite a bit away to get out of the festival fire.
At a solitary place by the canal I met Mr. Fjodor. A man in his thirties having his smoke there. “Would you mind if I take a little rest here?” I asked. “Be my guest” he responded. “Want some weed?” he asked after a while. “I´m good.” I responded. “Are you from here?” I asked… we started to talk and it came out as a very pleasant meeting. He had an interesting story, a broken family, moving here and there as a child and was a photographer. He showed me some of his pics and was reciting to me old english poems. I told him a bit from Krsna philosophy and he appreciated. He took the “On Chanting Hare Krsna” pamphlet and gave a nice donation. I took a few of those for distribution on my way. “Do you think I’m qualified to pick this up? I don’t know…” “I’m sure you’re qualified to read this at least.” He appreciated. Later he showed me a place with public showers in Christiania with toilets and hot water and directed me to a little beach where I could spend the night. I stayed there, across the road by an old big house. The night was dark, streetlamps shining through, a couple came there, seeking for shadows of a lonely place, propelled by a strong desire to do what everyone does, right, but hey! There is this guy (me) putting on his pajamas! Damn! Having developed empathy, I really felt their frustration. Sorry, haha! Being relatively far from the showers I bathed there in the morning and washed my clothes. Cold water will still do…
Eventually I was invited to stay at another new friend’s place in town and it was good, because the next day it rained all the time. Mr. Herman. He was doing ‘foodsharing’ – distributing food that would be otherwise thrown out from the big shops and which he would save, freely to the people. I also took few nice plums, bananas and salad to offer them to Krsna. Hm… now I think that I should have maybe just “thrown a thread on it” as I’ve heard that devotees would do in the old times – just offer the whole shop of fruits and vegetables to Krsna, so everyone then takes prasadam. Next time…
We met an elderly lady, Kis, who was there in the beginning when they started to squat the empty Christiania buildings in 1971. She saw it developing with all its stories, of which many are not so bright… I asked her what she would say could be the inspiration for an ordinary, straight person if he or she walks randomly into this carnival-like hippie environment. This question was there in my mind especially after being somehow disappointed by the “alternative” offered by the punks in Berlin. Yow! Yow yow! Yow! “Shut your f**king dog up, or I´LL do it!!!” resounded from a camplike place inhabited by the nonconformists below Rauchhaus´s windows one night. This is your new society? Well… So she said that for inspiration one has to go a little deeper than just looking at the graffitis and wild decorations there. It’s more about the way people talk to each other, communicate and take decisions together. There is a principle of consensus in decision making. Everyone present has to agree to the solution. Only then it is approved. I thought about the efficiency of such a system. May be nice, but it also may take 1000 yugas to come to a conclusion. Everyone has his own truth, his own way, his own everything, especially in communities such as this one. Imagine there is just one nonsense person. And rest assured there will be. He can just block the whole progress. Then, in order to move forward, some cheating has to take place. And sure enough it happened some times, as she disclosed to me. We devotees have this figured out. We address each other as “Prabhu” – master, and we take decisions according to what Krsna and guru say. Easy. No time to waste with relativities.
Just one month ago they have canceled and cleared out the ‘Pusher street’ where there was possible and easy to buy ganja and hash. Since then Christiania turned from a vibrant subculture hub into a quiet neighborhood. Before it was full of “alternative folks”. “Freedom, yeah! Change the world, yeah!” Everyone just wants to get high and doesn’t really care for any ideas or ways how to get out of
the status quo. No ganja? Everything finished.
I chilled for two days at Herman’s place, discussed deeply with him and his roommate whether the knower and the known are one or different, chanted a bhajan, distributed little prasadam, regained some energy and went on. West through Denmark…
To Be Continued…
PDF Newsletter: https://drive.google.com/open?id=0B7hU3UDSCUtbYnZ1dU5HMmRYZGs
https://www.harekrishnamontreal.com/2016/11/18/bhaktivedanta-lives-in-sound-society-newsletter-november-issue/
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