Escape from the California Cult

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

This story is dedicated to all the thousands of youngsters who get hijacked by religious sects into worshipping idols and following false gods.

 

 

 

 

 

 

This book is published by El Shaddai Publishers

ISBN 978-0-620-85531-0

 

Enquiries: info@ecmirror.co.za

 

 

 

 

 

 

A New Cult as Old as the Hills

It was late summer of 1978 and I was just 28 years old when I flew out of London all by myself on a one way flight to America. After three years of working in a music recording studio in South Woodford, playing guitar at late night gigs in the smoky bars and cold night clubs in the East End, drinking too much whiskey and smoking too many cigarettes, I was pretty burned out. I had grown up in the hippie era of the 1960’s and I was a product of the “flower power” era complete with long hair, beads around the neck, “spaced out” friends and a belief that “free love is cool.” At the tender age of 28, I was coughing and wheezing like an old man of 128 years! I would wake up in the cold grey of another drizzling London morning and wonder what on earth I was doing there! So when Sir Freddy Laker opened up his brand new airlines in England and offered low price flights to America, I jumped at the chance to escape to a new land. I sold my battered little Mini Cooper motor car for a song, said goodbye to my doped up friends in the studio and took off from Heathrow on a one way flight to Los Angeles with a brand new six month visa.

My lifelong dream was actually to get to Hawaii and to surf the giant waves of the North Shore, for I had been a fanatical surfer for the fifteen years that I had grown up in my beloved South Africa. I must have made fifty or sixty surf trips up and down the African coast in my younger days, and I was hungry to reach Hawaii – the mecca for surfers. It just didn’t turn out that way at all! Those three years in the London recording studio had been just a side track for me. “Now I’m going to get free!” I thought with excitement as I looked out the plane window. I was determined to get to Hawaii and surf ten foot Banzai Pipeline, but little did I foresee the fantastic journey that would unfold in California. There was another three year sidetrack coming up.

When the Boeing 727 touched down at Los Angeles airport, all I had was a backpack of clothes, $400 in my pocket and an electric guitar. I didn’t know a soul in California, but I had all the confidence of youth which declares, “I can do anything!” I just took off into the blue skies with a huge curiosity and the confidence to explore new places by myself.

Los Angeles is rather a terrifying place, the first time you ever go there, because the roads are packed with enormous cars that roar along sixteen lane freeways; the airport stretches for kilometers and there is a seething mass of people in the late afternoon airport, all frantically trying to retrieve their baggage and find themselves a taxi to their destination. There was a cold wind scurrying through the vast airport, rattling the cold drink cans on the pavement and I was on my way to a kiosk that sold maps, wondering what to do next. Then a young girl came up to me with magazines from the Hare Krishna movement, and she said that I would be welcome to go and stay for free in the Hare Krishna Vegetarian Centre in downtown Los Angeles. I thought to myself, "My prayer must have been answered. I know no-one in America and I’ve got nowhere to go, maybe I should go and have a look and see where it takes me,"

Just then, from down the corridor, a security patrolman came up to me and said, “Beware! Beware of the Hare Krishna movement and of what they teach! A lot of people have been taken for a ride in this city. Beware of them!”

Well, I was curious to find out more, so I decided to over-ride his warning, and I spent $28 out of my $400 on a taxi downtown across Los Angeles to the Hare Krishna temple. It was dark outside and late when we arrived, and there was a sharp nip in the cool night air. At the door of the temple, I was met by two devotees who were clothed in long yellow robes. Their heads were completely shaven smooth except for a long pony tail of hair that dangled down behind. They greeted me with warm smiles and one of them said, “Hare Krishna, welcome to our temple. Who are you? Where do you come from?" I replied that I had just come in from London and that I had never been to America before. I was curious to know more about them. So they took me in, gave me a meal of leftover chips and salad and asked if I was interested in spiritual matters. There were a couple of other young people in the room including two poorer Mexicans who said they had come from across the border in Tijuana. They were looking for a place to stay for the night. Well, they got firmly ushered back to the front door and told to find their own way down the road. “This is not just a free crash pad,” the devotee explained to me. “We are here to help people who are serious about spiritual life.”

Another tall devotee in a white robe and sandals swept in and began questioning me. “Did you believe in God?” I said that I certainly did, and I wanted to know more about god. He nodded and said that was fine. If I was interested in spiritual life then I was welcome to stay in their temple for three days for free. Well, they took me into a dormitory in the cold of the night and gave me a bare bunk to sleep on and a coarse army blanket. Before he switched off the light, he said “We get up at 4 a.m. here, so we will wake you for a cold shower before we go to the temple for morning devotions.”

What a way to wake up on my first day in America! Long before the dawn, Govinda Dass, fresh in a clean white robe, shook my shoulder awake, showed me to the shower and escorted me silently to the temple room. There were huge, brightly lit chandeliers throwing a thousand reflections off the marble mosaic floors. The walls were richly adorned with tapestries and giant gilt framed pictures of the saints. At the front, was a massive raised stage with three huge statues of godlike figures carved out of marble and gold. Three tall, white robed devotees waved brass censers with sweet smelling incense adoringly round these carved statues up on the stage.

About twenty or thirty different monks were walking around the floor of this temple chanting mantras. At the same time, fifteen or twenty women dressed in beautiful saris were pacing barefoot around the back of the temple floor also chanting these holy mantras. Each person held a rosary of 108 beads in their right hand. This was to keep track of the number of times that they repeated the mantra. The mantra which they were chanting was called the Hare Krishna mantra and it was rather strange to see and hear this low hum of communal chanting - "hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna, krishna, hare hare, hare rama; hare rama, rama rama, hare hare" - which means “I worship Krishna. The supreme god". The temple was filled with this hypnotic, low peaceful hum of the chanting voices. It was very weird to a Westerner’s eyes!

Govinda Dass explained to me that these monks were chanting the holy mantras in order to re-establish their relationship with god. “You can come closer to god, and the happiness which comes from knowing god, by chanting the names of god,” he explained. Just then, a bell rang and through the door came a huge black devotee dressed in a bright saffron robe, with shiny bald head and a red painted dot in the middle of his forehead. He was carrying an elongated drum which was slung around his neck. He was playing this drum with both hands and he was singing the Hare Krishna mantra in a deep, resonant voice that captivated everyone’s’ attention. Soon, the other devotees joined him with small brass cymbals. Suddenly everyone joined into the hypnotic beat, chanting mantras, swaying and dancing to the accompaniment of these traditional Hindu musical instruments.

It was really interesting. The beat was hypnotic, the swish of the cymbals and the deep bass of the drum filled the air and the dancing became ecstatic. As each devotee passed the raised stage, he would bow down to these three beautifully carved statues commanding the long raised stage. Govinda Dass explained to me in a devout whisper, “These are the Deities. They are not statues and they are not idols. These are the three main gods of the universe in their deity form- Jagannatha, Balarama, and Subhadra.”

It seemed strange the way these people were bowing their heads to the floor in front of marble and gold adorned statues, bedecked with jewels, while other devotees were waving silver incense holders on either side of which there were candles burning. The air was filled with the rich, sweet pungency of the incense. Just below the stage, on the left side of the temple floor was a very life like 8 foot high statue of a famous Spiritual Master. This statue was, I was told, a representation of Sri Prabhupada, founder of Krishna Consciousness. The statue was sitting cross legged in a saffron robe in the lotus position with his eyes wide open. He looked to be in his late seventies and he was the founder of Krishna Consciousness in America in the early 1970’s.

After the dancing was finished, one of the older devotees took the stage and began a short spiritual discourse, and this was the basis of the lecture: “One of the greatest happiness’s which a human being can experience is to become a servant of god. Material pleasures just do not last, but spiritual pleasure will bring lasting happiness both in this life and in the next.” Then it was time for breakfast, and we all sat down cross legged on the floor while a large piece of clean wax paper was placed in front of us. Devotees on cooking duty came round and dished up cups of fresh yoghurt, porridge and banana and papaya. It was delicious! Later, Govinda Dass took me aside and cautioned me, “You will have to become humble in order to learn and, therefore, you are expected to perform menial tasks. Cleaning the kitchen, washing the bathroom floors, cutting the grass are all opportunities for you to learn humility.”

The devotees are not paid for their services but in return they are given a free place to stay and free food. It is a very happy form of communal living and a highly attractive way of “opting out” of conventional society. You are released from the need to work incredibly hard in a boring job to pay for food and rent and car. No need for home bonds and medical insurance. We were promised; “Just live for Krishna and we will take care of all the affairs of day to day living for you.” It sounded like the perfect, utopian society come true. Later, I found that a large proportion of young Americans have also bought into this incredible dream. Krishna Consciousness became extremely powerful not just in California but all over America, Europe and Africa in the 1970’s.

Well, I was told that I would be given three days free trial living in the temple in Los Angeles and then I would have to decide whether to become a neophyte devotee, shave my hair off and renounce the material world or, instead, I would have to leave the temple and return to the material world.

I was very curious about this cult like movement, and I was fascinated by the Hare Krishnas. They seemed to be a branch of the Hindu religion. I didn't really want to live in a big city like Los Angeles, but I was certainly interested in spiritual life. When I asked if there were other temples in other cities, they told me that there were some 30 or 40 other temples throughout America. Govinda Dass told me, “In San Diego, some 150 km away, there is another temple in Pacific Beach, right close to the ocean. You are welcome to go and live there, if you like.”

So I decided to follow this spiritual pathway and find out more about the Hare Krishnas. I hopped on the temple kombi with some other devotees and took the ride down Pacific Highway to the sunny, sprawling town of San Diego which is famous for its surfing villages like Ocean Beach, La Hoya and Windansea and is situated on the coast close to the Mexican border. The route from Los Angeles to San Diego is pure Southern Californian coastal beauty. Passing through relaxed beachside towns like Huntington Beach, Newport Beach, and Oceanside means there's plenty of surf and sand and bikini girls to enjoy along the way and we drove through Anaheim, which is known for being home to Disneyland. Even though the trip is only around two hours, there's so much to see and do that we could have made it into a whole-day affair.

That trip to the Hare Krishna temple in Pacific Beach, San Diego changed the course of my life and I ended up staying in San Diego for almost three years!

Living in the Ashram

I lived in the Hare Krishna temple in San Diego for two years in the suburb of Pacific Beach, so close to the ocean that you could hear the whisper of the breaking waves on the shore line. The sun was the shining most of the time because San Diego is a semi desert town and it gets hot and dry in the midday heat. The streets are wide and well laid out with tall palm trees casting their shade down the long streets. The façade of the temple is typically eastern with high arched doors and windows and the building looks incongruous in the midst of modern American dwellings. There is also a Mexican influence in the mass of white adobe apartments because Tijuana and the Mexican border are only 30 km away.

The first few months, I was allowed to live in the ashram. “The first thing we do is to shave all your hair off, “a devotee informed me firmly. “You need to break your attachment to the material world. So we shave our heads as a sign of renunciation and surrender to Krishna.” I wailed and protested because I was proud of my shoulder length hair. I was born in the hippie generation and long hair was “cool” But I agreed to let them cut my hair and took their basic vows. The vows included a vow of chastity and I agreed not to eat meat fish or eggs. I agreed to abstain from all liquor and any form of drug and I agreed not to gamble at all. When I looked in the mirror I didn’t recognize myself! I was tall, dressed in a white robe that reached to my feet, my head was shaven bald except for a long, single lock of brown hair that reached to my shoulders. This was my “Sikha.”

An ashram is a spiritual retreat where anyone can step back out of the ordinary world and spend time reflecting on spiritual matters and live for free in order to have more time to study the meaning of life. “Why was I born? What is the purpose of life? Where will I go when I die? What is the nature of God?” These are some of the concerns of a monk.

I met Dahl, for example, a fat, short, rather effeminate scholarly devotee who wore huge tortoise shell glasses and who never stopped extolling the wonders of this ascetic life. He was a devotee who had been living in the ashram for several years. He did not draw a monthly salary, but he lived rent free and was provided with food and clothes. In return, he had to work very hard all day in the service of the temple. Most of the other monks like seemed to be very content with this sexless, non-conformist life.

The meals which they cooked were fantastic. Sometimes we would sit down to a meal which offered a choice of fifteen different dishes - really beautiful meals, all vegetarian preparations like samoosas, yoghurt, rice, vegetables, rich soup, fresh fruit and milk products. They boasted that “Our diet respects the earth and its creatures and it respects you. This is a way of eating that people have thrived on-physically and spiritually for tens of centuries.” At meal times, all the devotees and visitors assemble and sit cross legged on the marble floor. In front of each person is placed a single, large waxed sheet of paper. Then the serving devotees walk down the rows of people and serve them directly onto the waxed sheets. You eat with your right hand only, using your fingers. Your left hand is reserved for washing and ablutions. The meals are all spotlessly clean and hygienic for the devotees reason that, “We are performing this service directly for Krishna and therefore we will give of our best because we love Krishna dearly.”

The Hindus believe that God is a person with a human form. They call him Krishna, which means "the all attractive one". They say that he has a bluish skin and smiling eyes and he wears a garland of flowers around his neck and he plays a silver flute with both hands. On his forehead, he wears a kaustubba jewel. They say that Krishna is a god of great kindness and mercy. Krishna bestows countless gifts upon his devotees because of their service to him. On the whole, living in the temple is a very happy, and extremely peaceful existence and the majority of the devotees seem to be very content.

They believe that God is present in the sound vibration of his holy name and, therefore, they chant his holy name hour by hour, day by day. By doing this, they claim that they can see God. The devotees wear orange robes or white robes and with their shaved heads, looking totally bizarre in the eyes of our 20th century modern civilization. I was told, “We choose to make a stand so that people will recognize us as being different from western culture which is so decadent. If we dress in this way, people will recognize us as holy men, people who worship God and wish to bring others to his presence."

So, every day, the devotees would go marching through the streets of modern California, with all its flash cars and its “beautiful” people, and there you would see a team of 20 shaved up devotees carrying long drums, brass cymbals, and tambourines all singing and dancing in downtown San Diego. A big part of this operation was to hand out glossy “Back to Godhead” magazines which promote the Hare Krishna culture. The plan was to attract more people to the movement. They would be marching down the Broadway in the middle of the city chanting “Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna”, much to the amusement of the onlookers. They would march straight to central park and stand around the fountain chanting the holy name at the tops of their voices and handing out magazines to curious on-lookers. They would be kind to everyone, even the drunken bums who lay around on dirty cardboard. These unfortunates usually shifted uneasily when a too-zealous devotee tried to pull them out of their drunken stupor with earnest tales of spiritual life. Successful businessmen in three piece suits striding purposefully in the city streets would usually try to side step confrontation with this totally different culture. The singing, saffron robed Hare Krishna monks posed a threat to their materialistic value system. It was like ancient India meeting modern America head-on. On the other hand, the devotees were extremely successful in attracting many young people. Young boys and girls loved the dance, the rhythm, the hypnotic drum beat of the chanting music. This was exciting. This was something new and lots of youngsters accepted the invitation cards and actually came to a fantastic free meal at the Sunday Feast, which was to be held for free for all people in the temple on Sunday afternoon at Pacific Beach. Anyone was welcome to partake of the ten course meal and to learn more about the ancient Indian scriptures. This was the main mission of the Hare Krishnas: to attract people to Krishna and to invite new comers to their movement.

In those days, I was a neophyte and my life was taking on a whole new meaning. Gone was the disillusionment of the Rock ‘n Roll world in which I used to live in London. In its place, I found a new serenity of spirit and a happiness inside myself in the ashram. It was a new rhythm of life. Up at 4am for devotionals and chanting the mantras for two hours. Breakfast at 7a.m. and all morning out on the road with the road team. I wasn't afraid of driving out into public with the devotees in a large kombi, talking to strangers about Krishna and dancing in the street outside San Diego State University before a packed audience of curious students. It was an extremely happy, carefree existence and, of course, it is so much easier to dance in a street, when you are a complete stranger and nobody knows you!

The sun was usually blinding hot by midday and the sweat was poured off one’s body. We would retire to the cool of the temple for lunch. Invariably roti, unleavened bread, together with Dahl vegetable soup, fresh samosas and fruit juices. The afternoon would be taken up

Imprint

Publisher: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Publication Date: 04-22-2020
ISBN: 978-3-7487-3761-2

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
This story is dedicated to all the thousands of youngsters who get hijacked by religious sects into worshipping idols and following false gods.