Try to picture one million pilgrims descending on one island off the eastern coast of West Bengal, travelling thousands of miles just to take bath in the holy Ganges River, on the most sacred day of the year, as if their lives depended on it. Welcome to India.On my week break from classes I was invited to help set up camp and be a part of Team ISKCON Mayapur at the Ganga Sagar Mela. I decided the service opportunity was too valuable to turn down even if I did want a "real" vacation. So after loading ourselves onto the bus at 5am, 10 hours of travel, one hour by boat, and another hour by local bus, we finally arrived.
The trip was gruelling but worth every minute. We arrived at camp late at night and to my surprise, camp was set up and the kitchen crew was at work, having already prepared our dinner and actively preparing for their first day of free prasadam distribution. I initially met the devotees at Rainbow Gathering and after many years of these festivals in the USA, I am no stranger to Krishna Camp. However, Camp ISKCON Mayapur was on a whole new level. For an outside camp, I would say everything was pretty darn first-class. The most impressive feature was the kitchen and the kitchen crew who served tirelessly for one week straight. Check out the size of those pots!
Foot knives. I had heard rumors but never knew exactly how one would use such a tool. These mothers were expert and could chop and peel a six-foot mound of cauliflower and zucchini is no time. Prasadam was served to the devotees three times a day and was, without a fail, hot and delicious. Prasadam was served out to the genral public from 8am to 6pm for five days in a row. My estimate is that tens of thousands of free plates of prasadam were served over the course of the week.
This here is a picture of what is called a fire yajna or traditional Vedic fire ceremony. All of the students from the Mayapur gurukula, a brahminical school for young boys, were also in attendence. It was an honor to serve with them and be in there general company, watch them behave. These are no ordinary boys. By themselves, they led the fire ceremony while chanting hundreds of Sanskrit mantras, having memorized most of them. Ghee, rice, and black seasame seeds were offered to the fire which is honored as the mouth of Visnu, or the mouth of God Himself. The ceremony was held every afternoon in order to invite auspiciousness to the festival and purify the hearts, gross and subtle body of all those in attendance.
This was one of my favorite sadhus. Who else could make a gumpsha turban look so beautiful? But, on a serious note, the pilgrimage was a fascinating exchange of so many sincere spiritual seekers from so many lineages and backgrounds. Sky clad devotees of Lord Shiva covered in ash, saffron-robed sunnyasis, red-robes, leopard skirts, big turbans, small turbans, dhotis, sarees tied every which way, silk, cotton, nylon...the diversity was amazing. Yet, not a single guru held even a fraction of my interest compared to Srila Prabhupada.
My service was Hari Nam. Thus, 4 hours in the morning and 4 hours in the afternoon I danced, and danced, and danced away, blissfully chanting the Hare Krishna mantra to the delight of all the pilgrims. Everyday, we would start from camp playing accordians, mrdangas, ans djembes and cymbals, parade down to Mother Ganga, and circle up on the beach. From there we would invite everyone to come dance. This amazing woman, pictured above, danced with us everyday. I've never seen such a blissful smile and sincere eyes. She was my inspiration. The kids, and especially the little girls, went crazy! The ultimate dance party. Who said spiritual life was boring?
Lots of kids. Lots of cows. Lots of grandmothers. Lots of devotion. Lots of hope. Lots of desperation. Lots of suffering. Lots of help. Lots of service. Lots of inspiration. Lots of humility.Inevitably, the best part of Krishna Camp is the relationships made by serving so closely and volunteering so much time with all the devotees. Pictured above is my classmate Renu and her Grandma who is non-stop. Grandma went out on Hari Nam everyday and after coming back to Mayapur was the only one who didn't catch a cold.
The Bhagavad Gita says consciousness is a symptom of the soul and devotional service, a symptom of a devotee of the Lord. How am I so fortunate to be in the company of such saintly souls?
The night before leaving camp, minutes away from crashing into bed, my feet sore and my muscles aching, I was asked to give an interview to several local and national radio and news stations. I was exhausted but was very pleased to be given such an honor to represent Srila Prabhupada, ISKCON, and the whole camp. When asked if I would return, I said only with the blessings of the devotees.
But really, I mean where else can you wake up at two in the morning to hike down to Mother Ganga with tens of thousands of pilgrims to take bath in the company of calves, sadhus, gurus, coconuts, marigold flower garlands, floating candles and millions of sticks of incense burning everywhere. The water smelled and tasted like camphor and sandalwood. A pleasant surprise. An amazing adventure.
Hare Krishna, party people! In Sri Mayapur Dhama, the party starts at 4am and the temple is packed full with hundreds of pilgrims every day. It's helpful for the ego to get a nice kick in the head while offering prayers and dandavats. But what can I say, I am in awe and reverence of the sincerity of the devotees here and have been blessed with this opportunity to see what it really means to love God.
I apologize for not keeping up with my posts. I actually arrived in Mayapur around November 13th, literally walked into the dhama after three days of travel, and was greeted by thousands of devotees on yatra celebrating Srila Prabhupada's Disappearance Day. An auspicious sign to say the least. The last two and half months have been full. Classes started at the end of November and we've already finished studying Nectar of Devotion, Nectar of Instruction and the first nine chapters of Bhagavad Gita. Four papers, 25 memorized verses, and one open and one closed book exam later, sastra is oozing out of my pores. Lets see if I can't apply it in my so-called devotional life.
All glories to the bucket. Living in India, one's life revolves around a bucket. Bathing, heating up water, washing my clothes, rinsing, cleaning, carrying, all your daily needs in the convenience of a large plastic bucket. Myself and Evelyn share a small room in the old ladies' ashram and it is hardly austere. The roof is the best part and I call it my office. 
Rice, dal, sabji, chutney, and sweet rice are also oozing out of my pores. Two words- maha prasadam. I have discovered the glories of black salt and the magnificent khirkadum. Papaya juice, black grapes and succulent mandarin oranges for breakfast. Fresh samosas, paneer sandwiches, ginger tea and gulabjamons for dinner. Yes, you can expect a feast when I return. 
