Krishna Bus Tour

Part 14-Naan Sense

Nothing happened in Regina and everyone was glad. There was no national park, no river or festival, just a chance for everyone to be in one room together.

The Regina Krishna temple was purchased in 1978, an abandoned church in a poor neighborhood. The foundation had settled; every door and window was out of square. The kids loved it and sat on the sloping floors singing kirtans.

Breakfast was served in the small backyard: naan with sour cream, cheese, lettuce, jam, and peanut butter.

Naan is an Indian flat bread.

Manu encouraged competition to make the best naan sandwich.

One boy said, "This is naan sense."

Another said, "I'm naan committal."

I said, "Wait a minute. Is this naan vegetarian?"

We thanked our hosts for the naan traditional meal.

***

We parked the buses on a suburban street in Saskatoon. A devotee family gave us the run of their house, their kids joined the bus tour kids throwing frisbees on the quiet street and sharing tunes on the piano in their living room.

Ananda spent his day patching the roof of the bus. "I want to make sure it never leaks again." He's always ready to help—one of the first responders. We've got a few on each bus. They help things run smoothly.

I was about to join him when the boys brought a banjo and trombone onto the lawn. We marveled at the soft grass, "It doesn't grow like this in North Carolina."

"Or Florida."

We serenaded Ananda until Manu called everyone into the house.

"We'll be in Yellowstone National Park in a couple days. We're going to take a group photo, and we want you all to wear one of these ..."

He pulled a tee shirt from a box, everyone approved, "Ooooh!"

It was a silk screen print of Vishnu riding his eagle, Garuda. On the back, a bus with wings flew above the clouds.

"Each bus is named Garuda." Manu said, "This is Garuda 1. He's been retired and is now in bus heaven. Under these clouds it says 20th Anniversary ISKCON Youth Bus Tour. This will be a collector's item, a piece of history."

Manu's wife, Jaya Sri Radhe, handed out shirts. "You can wear them today, but keep them looking nice for the picture.

She tossed one to me. "I get a shirt too? I'm just a driver."

Manu raised his voice, "Listen up .... Everyone ...? Tomorrow we'll be in Calgary. There's a Ratha Yatra festival ..."

***

With all that was going on, Gaura Narayana was able to keep up on his last two weeks of college studies. He used the wifi at the Calgary Krishna Temple to take his final exam. It was the temple's busiest day of the year, volunteers were cooking, packing, and loading for the Ratha Yatra festival. He'd become pretty good at shutting out the world and focusing on his studies.

Our buses had already left and the temple was emptying fast, I asked around for a ride to the festival site for the two of us. All that was available was a delivery truck. "It won't be comfortable," our host said, "but I'll get you there."

We sat in the back of the truck on barrels of festival food.

"How did you do on your test Narayana?"

"I got an A."

"That was quick."

The driver pointed to Calgary's highlights, which we glimpsed through the tiny window of the truck. "They've built tunnels up there so people can walk from building to building in the winter."

"How cold does it get in Winter?"

"Minus forty, minus fifty. Life goes on; you do what you have to. It can get cold even in Summer. We're lucky to have such a nice day. There should be a good turnout for this festival."

***

Another truck was parked in the loading zone, with devotees unloading supplies. "They've taken our parking spot," our driver said. He rolled his window down and called out, "Hare Krishna! How long will you be?"

The other driver answered by tipping his head from side to side. This can mean a lot of things depending on what part of India you're from. Usually it means everything's OK.

"Five minutes," he answered, flashing all ten fingers twice.

"OK." Our driver also tipped his head from side to side, but it was more abrupt which meant I'm not really OK with it, but I understand.

"He said five minutes, but twenty with his hands," I said.

"We'll be alright," our driver said. "Why don't you join the festival?"

"OK, thank you for the ride, and the tour of Calgary." I tipped my head side to side to show how much Hindi I understand.

The park was an accurate replica of downtown Delhi, tightly packed with people in saris and turbans. A long line stretched to the free feast booth. Everyone talked loudly, gesturing with their hands and heads like our driver had.

The bus tour drama team wore their costumes. "We're on in twenty minutes." It looked like a challenging venue with so much activity.

The colorful, striped Festival of India tents defined the festival grounds. For us it was just another day on the bus tour, for the locals it was a rare sunny day, a chance to meet neighbors and to connect with seekers who might visit the temple in the coldest part of winter. People walking by might think it was a family picnic for Indian people until they get called over to one of the booths for a free meal or a book.

***

The weather held all day and the sun stayed up late into the evening as local Calgary Krishna kids helped pack up the tents.

A leader called, "Haribol! Grab a pole!" Then six people lifted the tent by its poles and carried it to the truck where another team dismantled it.

The group ran for the next tent. "Haribol! Grab a pole!" While the next team tried to strip the tent down and pack it up before the next tent arrived.

The girls showed they could load the truck as fast as the boys, "Like packing our toys neatly away for next time."

With the tents packed away, there was an opportunity to tease each other. A tub of ice cream appeared, and they took turns riding a tiny bicycle; critically important life skills for young adults.