Krishna Bus Tour

Part 5-Texas Barbeque

I took out my guitar and Palika brought her ukulele. Soon we had a Hare Krishna chorus of British girls singing harmonies.

The boys trickled in from their kitchen duties. I had Mali fetch his banjo from the bus. He brought it from England on his sister's recommendation that I might teach him. Mali was eighteen, living in the shadow of his famous parents and two older sisters.

"We were singing your sister's tune," one of the girls said.

"Yeah, I recognized it," Mali said. "From her latest recording."

"How does it feel to be in such a famous family?" I asked.

"I guess a lot is expected of me." He looked unsure of himself and I felt sorry for him. It took me a full week to catch on that I had wasted a moment of pity on someone with fully coagulated brains.

He's got the same red hair as his sisters. He described his Halloween costume, "I tied several bags of bread to my clothes."

He let us figure it out, "Oh! A Gingerbread Man!"

Lunch was noodles again.

I sat at a lively table as a young lady said, "I'm so excited! The bus is going to Toronto next week! I'll be able to invite all of you to my igloo."

"You're from Toronto?" I asked.

"Yes! And we'll be there next week!"

"How will you fit all of us on your dog sled?" I asked.

"Some will have to use snowshoes then."

I had to lean close to hear over the other conversations going on in Gauranga Hall.

"My maple syrup is running low too," she continued. "You know, a lot of people really think we live like that. People have actually asked me if I have Eskimo neighbors."

"That's so cool!" I turned to another young lady at our table, "What about you? What do you miss about Australia?"

"Oh, I'm still getting used to everything not being upside down ... and I really miss riding my kangaroo. I understand we'll be riding horses in Arizona, but it's just not the same."

"Did you get to wrestle any alligators while we were in Florida?"

"Yes, a bit, but it's just not the same as back home."

I shouted across the table to the red-haired boy, "Mali, how are you getting by? Have you had your tea today?"

He smiled politely and one of the British girls interrupted, "On my first visit to America, someone offered me an 'English muffin.' I've never seen such a thing. I don't know why they call them English muffins."

"How do you see Americans?" I asked, "What are the stereotypes for us?"

"Fast food ..."

"... and super sizing every meal."

A Texas girl said, "When I was in Italy, people were surprised I was vegetarian, that I don't eat at McDonalds."

***

The seminars were hard work; the kids explored spiritual and emotional topics that I'm not allowed to talk about.

Every moment was tightly packed. In the tiny spaces between sessions, someone sang Hare Krishna with a harmonium and another would join with a drum. Chairs were pushed aside to make room for dancing. The organizers smiled, shrugged and joined them.

A big kirtan was scheduled every day in the newly constructed temple. The Texas sized Krishna smiled from His altar and watched our kids slowly build the kirtan.

My generation stood back, giving them room, witnessing the reincarnation of the Hare Krishna Movement.

A hundred fifty robes and saris twirled across the shiny marble floor. The future is in good hands.

The jumpsuit guy had complimented them, "You've got rhythm. I've seen you dance."

That's what Hare Krishna kids do; they sing Hare Krishna.

***

They kept that pace going for five days. On the last evening there was a barbecue.

"We're in Texas," Ratish said. "You've got to expect that."

His team spent the day curdling milk and soaking the curds in homemade barbecue sauce.

Tarps and cushions were spread around a bonfire at Radha Nila-Madhava Park. They lit tiki torches when the sun went down. Ratish wore swimming goggles at the grill, loading and turning shish kebabs. His assistants aimed flashlights at his work. Barbecue is serious business for Texans.

Kids helped themselves to the barbecue and bottles of ginger ale.

They took turns singing kirtans around the fire.

"Who wants another? We've got a bunch here—come get 'em." The boys have Hindu manners and talk like Texans.

Months of planning went into that moment: advertising, planning flights, seminars, and icebreakers. This is what the future of the Hare Krishna Movement will look like.

"Who's ready for another?"

The Sanga Initiative ended on this warm fuzzy scene of 150 friends in the glow of tiki torches and root beer. Our stomachs were full and warm from barbecued shish kebab curd with bell peppers and eggplant.