Blog

By Hunter Wells

It all looked a bit incongruous really. Given name John, John Herbison – spiritual name Yasoda Dulal – is standing in the middle of small-town New Zealand, the mist is swirling and he’s beating his drum and chanting mantras.

“…hare Krsna, Krsna Krsna, hare hare.”

Shaven head except for that trademark tuft, draped in a traditional dhoti or robe, dripping with beads and the very materialism he’s busy renouncing is rumbling by at 100km/h. Trucks, cars and people obsessed with “matter”.

“…hare rama, rama rama, hare hare.”

Five or six hours a day, every day, beating and chanting. “Krsna Krsna, hare hare.” He finds it uplifting and it’s fuel for the long walk. Two thousand kilometres from somewhere called Slope Point, a point further south than Bluff, to Cape Reinga.

“We all go on a pilgrimage or a journey in this life.” This monk’s journey on this occasion has got him to Okere Falls en route to Tauranga. “It’s good for my faith and obviously there’s a personal challenge here too.” He’s not in a hurry. He’ll cut it out the 60km in a couple of days.

A Hare Krishna life on the road is all in a small backpack. “If it doesn’t fit in the bag, I don’t take it.” There’s a modest blanket in there, men’s things of course, his lunch and his message, a clear message.

“The message is…less is more.” An interdenominational message and he’s spreading it out there on the highways and byways. “Less materialism and more spiritualism.”

People, says Yasoda, are absorbed in matter. “But material problems are not solved with material answers. Only spirit moves matter.”

“A more spiritual life is a simple sound solution to the sociological problems we have, family problems we have and individual problems we have.”

He does bang on about it. But on his drum and up and down the land. And people are listening. “People are intrigued, they are inquisitive. Even in small towns they’re looking and listening and engaging.”

And they’re engaging with a man wearing a baggy robe, beads and face paint – the tilaka or forehead marking, the reminder they’re eternal servants of Lord Krsna. That’s okay for Queen St on a Friday night but for rural Okere Falls?

“My dress is an external show of faith. It signifies I am a man who pursues spirituality and I am happy to talk about it. Just like if someone’s in trouble, they will go to someone dressed as a policeman.”

He’s an infectious personality this monk, deeply spiritual, deeply funny, indomitable with a constant toothy smile as big as the gates to Luna Park, possibly the Pearly Gates.

When he learns his story could go out to nearly 67,000 readers in The Weekend Sun, he’s impressed. “That’s a mighty big drum you beat Hunter. Bigger than my drum.”

He’s chuffed and assures me there’ll be credits waiting for me when I ascend.

The monk is the son of a southern farmer-turned-publican. You can imagine the fuss when John Herbison transcended into Yasoda Dulal. “My father was very disappointed to start with.” Especially when John relinquished lamb chops and alcohol and became vegetarian Hare Krishna Yasoda. “He was very traditional and the diet thing challenged him to the max.”

But he was looking for knowledge, eternity and happiness. “You have to find a source for that.” He found it in the Hare Krishna philosophy.

And in time his father saw that his son has “steadied”. He saw he had changed from frivolousness to being serious about something.

It was Yasoda’s spiritual teacher that set him on the road. “His instruction was to find goodness in the hearts of New Zealanders.” And despite the enormity of that task, he has found it.

“Goodness means God in the heart and people have been very generous.”

Like the time someone gave him a pumpkin. He couldn’t lug it so he knocked on a door and asked if he could cook dinner. He did loaves and fishes with the pumpkin – eventually catering for about 15.

And he sleeps well – two-thirds of the time he is on the road he is taken in. “I am very dependent on the mercy of the public. I have learned not to ask but if it occurs to them to ask, then I will gratefully accept whatever grace comes my way.” The rest of the time it’s under the stars, under the trees or in a hay barn. He is a resourceful Hare Krishna.

“There is always something at the end of the day. I sleep.”

And nine months on the road has cost him nothing – just three or four pairs of shoes and sandals and the odd bit of tenderness as he puts it. “People want to give me vegetables and ask how much can I carry? I say whatever I can carry in my belly.”

Most of the time he cannot keep what people give him. He has to share it. “So it’s not a beggar’s life, it’s a givers life.”

And yes, there has been some aggravation. It came from a woman south of Taupo. She demanded to know why he was walking and not working. “I replied that I was working – working for God.” That was the worst of it. It was all resolved very amicably.

Yasoda’s married – to a New Zealand-born Indian woman who spends six months of the year in India. “She is back and I am going to catch up.” She is the mother of his three children. They are both grandparents and they are all adherents of Hare Krishna. He fishes out his wallet and flashes a photo. A good-looking bunch. He is a proud monk.

But back to the pilgrimage – the often arduous, lonely trek at the mercy of the weather and public. He will still be smiling and beating his drum, getting the message out, despite the hardship.

He’s a good advertisement for renunciation – for walking 2000km while high on spirituality and foregoing meat and alcohol and other earthly things. Stop him if you see him. Yasoda Dulal’s certainly worth a chat – a sort of cross faith experience with no catches.

Source: http://m.dandavats.com/?p=21117