All things must be passing, isn't it?

Toothbrush in hand, I packed bags, tightened my shoelaces and said goodbye to the hearty crew who had treated me to so much of their hospitality and warmth, listening calmly to my humble attempts at talking philosophy and turning up the steam in the radiator.
.

Farewell Russia. With Ananya Bhakti and Arjuna

Bags loaded, we hopped in the Tilak-wagon for our run to the airport. It was a good two hours in traffic, I was told, so we left early. Prithu had to catch the overnight choo choo train back to Petersburg. So we said, Do Svidanya, Adios, Goodbye, Sayonara, and dandabats. It was time to complete the links in the chain and fly Moscow-Bangkok on the great Trans-Aero airline.

Moscow Nights

Traffic around Red Square

Stuck in Traffic

 With ice on the road and the Tilak Wagon stuck in traffic, the clock was ticking. Would we make it to the airport on time for the great 747 jet of the famous Trans-Aero?  Or would we sleep in the airport, waiting hopelessly for a flight out. Tune in tomorrow. Watch this space for updates. See you soon.

Courage

With my mission complete, I strolled Red Square for a final time, taking in the ambience of a cold winter day. It was never my intention to return here so soon. I had fulfilled a life-long dream of visiting Russia when I came in August for the Veda Life festival. But like the chill and the cold, Moscow has a way of working itself into your bones. With all the different hardships they face the Russians are a soulful people who love a nice long conversation by the samovar with a hot black tea.

As for authors, you can keep the macho Hemingway with his lust for blood, or the clever Dickens with his Christmas Carol. No one does soulful better than Dosteoyevksy or lost love better than Pushkin with the notable exception of Tolstoy, who left his writing career to begin a spiritual commune in his old age.

And while it may have been a disaster on many levels, the Russian Revolution was an attempt to overturn authoritarian rule and prejudice and create an experimental society based on co-operation. Perhaps the great experiment was not a great success. But at least the Russian people had the courage and the soul to try.

Moscow Streets

And so I ventured into the icy Moscow streets in search of a lost toothbrush.

 I had flown in only last night, met by the happy crew of Muralishwara Prabhu and Prithu Das. But somewhere between the Ukrainian Banya and the snows of Moscow, I had lost my trusty toothbrush.

Intellectual, Poet, Translator and heavy duty baggage man, Muralishwara Prabhu 

The ever-helpful Prithu Das

Architectural College of Moscow.

 I walked on past the Architectural college across the street from the Indological Institute where Prabhupada once spoke, defeating scientists and defending the conclusions of Bhaktisiddhanta Saraswati Thakura against all comers.

Matroshkas bloomed on street-corners holding within the mysterious secrets of more matroshkas in an attempt to recreate the infinite espejismo of Jorge Luis Borges. 

Winston Churchill, I believe once said that Russia is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, hidden in a mystery. The Matroshka holds within a number of dolls each enfolded in another. She is a metaphor for the illusory nature of this material world with illusions nestled in illusions.

Just as this glass snow-globe we inhabit our own little world of fantasies and illusions.

Russian History Museum in Red Square

I found my toothbrush in a little pharmacy off Red Square. I wanted a photo of the nice friendly babushka who, Matroshka-like stood guard over the treasures of the Pharmacy. I was surprised that she was not really the one in charge. A camera stood watch in a corner of the ceiling. We were being watched, she explained. If I took a photo, the camera would know and send out a report. Mysteries within enigmas.

New Vision

Today's my birthday, so the Russian mission headed by my host Prithu Das did something very special for me. They noticed that I'm half-blind and that I was using a pair of broken glasses to sit and write these blogs. So with only a few hours to go for my next flight they dragged me kicking and screaming to the opthalmalogist, a sadistic Russian scientist with a festish for cross-eyed bifocals.  As soon as we showed him my old glasses, they broke into two pieces, completely useless. It was time for something new.

So  they strapped me into a torture machine they used to use to train cosmonauts during the cold war. The scientist in the white coat is test my pain levels by inserting glass needles into my optical nerve. All of this is necessary or I will never read the Bhagavad-gita again.

After some minor adjustments my space-lenses are ready and I can see again. The lenses are adjusted for one meter of distance so I can use them at the computer for blog-writing.

We returned to the temple for a sumptuous breakfast of flapjacks and fruit, which the happy buddha made sure I ate. I was grateful to be able to see what I was eating for the first time in days. The hearty meal was served by none other than Ananya Bhakti.

By this time I realized a great tragedy had befallen me in my Odyssey across the globe: I had left my toothbrush in Kiev.  So I bundled up in my heavy down coat and ventured out to have a last fleeting glimpse of beautiful downtown Moscow.

From Russia with Love

This morning I woke up for tea and Hari-katha in Kiev. Asutosh Krishna and I had a long talk about establishing reading circles based on Bhagavad-gita and he explained Kievans already have a kind of Nama Hatta program.

Asutosh Krishna is a deep thinker: we had some good talks

 I also had the chance to hang out with Kanu Das, the rock of the Ukrainian movement. People come and go, but Kanu is always there to help with organizing programs, cooking prasadam, enlivening the truth-seekers and doing all he can to keep the local mission alive.

Borispol Airport in Kiev

Alas it was time to say goodbye to Kiev. The great Kanu drove us through the birch tree forests where the sunshine doesn't penetrate enough to melt the snow about one hour out of Kiev to Borispol Airport. We said our goodbyes and promised to meet again soon, perhaps in the summertime when the weather is fine.

Once again I did the dance through security, customs, and immigration, and was approved for takeoff by the Ukrainian authorities and the good people at S7 airlines. 

Finally we were herded like sheep to slaughter onto the trusty airbus and found a seat. I thought of my good fortune and all the friends I had made, all the while missing my lovely wife Aurora. And while the Russians made the sign of the cross, I began telling the holy name of Krishna on my tulsi beads. We took off and the plane ride went as uneventfully as the morning bus to Dolores Hidalgo. an hour and a half later we arrived on Russian soil in the megacity of Moscow.

Local time was 6:30 but it was already dark. I was overjoyed to see the happy crew that had seen me off only a few days before. There were Prithu Das, the master of all trades, Muralishwara the poetic translator, and our trusty tilak-wagon driver, the ever-smiling Taruni.

It was hard to believe I had ever left.

We trudged through the snow to the parking lot and hurried through the night back to the Vedic Yoga Center across the street from the KGB. Of course they are no longer KGB, but they never really were, were they? Secret police means it's a secret. The local truth-seekers tell me it's the safest place in Moscow. Well-watched and well-protected.  But more to the point, long ago, perhaps in 1971,

Prabhupada himself walked close by where the temple is now and said, "Here is good place for our temple, close to Red Square."

The deep and humble Muralishwar carrying my bag through the snow.

They asked me all about the Ukrainian program and I did my best to recap. We spent a long time discussing educational models and how they differ from one place to the next: the importance of tailoring the appropriate educational model to suit the needs of the Russian and Ukrainian people.

Quick stop for gas

and groceries

And it was off to Red Square. 

Red Square at night

That's all for now. Tomorrow I go back to the airport again and from Moscow I'll take the red-eye express all the way to Bangkok, where I begin the real work, making preparations for our expedition to Angkor Wat.

Aurora in Bangkok last year.

Moscow Nights

As a kid growing up in the sixties, I was fascinated with Russia and the Russians. My brothers and I would play at being secret agents. I read all the James Bond books by Ian Fleming. Our family moved around a lot and one year we inscribed late for school. I had to take a second language. I said, "Spanish is fine." I was told, "No, sorry, that class is full." "Well, how about French?" My stepfather was French. "Full." "What are my options?" "German or Russian." I couldn't take German. My father would kill me. He was a prisoner of war in World War II. The Germans tattoed his arm with a prison number. So, I took Russian. I can still read it. Can't speak much. But now, my karma has taken me to Russia and Moscow. Back in the day I learned this song. It's called "Moscow Nights." Here's me on the Ukulele giving it my best shot.

Truth Seekers

As the sun moved lower on the horizon it was time for the Sunday afternoon program at the VedaLife center. 

Asutosh Krishna, Alakananda, and Vallabha

 Now that we had done our morning stroll around Kiev, it was time to meet the friends at the Veda Life center. The Veda Life center holds seminars, organizes conferences and houses yoga classes. I had been invited by Avadhuta Maharaja to talk to the truth-seekers there and answer whatever questions I could accompanied by my trusty translator Asutosh Krishna, pictured above.

Alakananda in the lobby of the Vedic Life center as we prepare to meet the friends.

A few posters for local color.

The visitors at VedaLife are mostly confirmed initiated disciples of Prabhupada, Shridhar Maharaja, Govinda Maharaja, Acharya Maharaja, Goswami Maharaja, Avadhuta Maharaja and others, combined with local Kievan intellectuals, artists, doctors, and various and sundry truth-seekers.

We took questions on a variety of topics. We started out talking about compassion. Some were interested in how to deal with War in the Ukraine. We counseled peace, an understanding of the nature of the eternal soul and God's plan, and promoted peace on the basis of compassion and Gandhian nonviolence. We spoke about the need for tolerance and moderation in our teachings to others, Proper attitudes in mantra meditation, Relative and absolute religious principles, society consciousness and god consciousness. We took questions on how to balance the chakras. We dialogued about creative differences between truth-seekers and how to achieve the joyous principle of Krishna prema.

The young and enthusiastic folks in Kiev asked some really good questions that made me think deeply. I did my best to be useful and give good answers, based on my studies, my training from my guru and the hard experience of 60 years of life.

Here is the link to the talk with Russian translation   https://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D0waHNmShTYM&h=TAQGkKu7E

Finally it was time for aroti, and a stately kirtan....

And we all sat down to a nice plate of prasadam. But as soon as we ate, it was back to work.

Lila Sundar and Akulananda burning up the silicon

After the aroti and feast, we had a brainstorming session on best online social media practices. The session was lead by young Lila Sundar, a deep thinker and online media genius.

Lila Sundar: a bright young man and Information Technology Specialist

In all we spoke for about 3 hours and talked to as many devotees and truth-seekers as we could while here in Kiev.

Giri Raja

And now it's time to pack my bags for Moscow. I'm leaving in 4 hours. See you there.