The House of the Hari Guru

Harideva and Guruvati, also known by us as the Hari Guru or HuG, run a small farm and B&B in the remote and beautiful Motueka Valley, nestled among the hills and just across the road from the river. Their property is a quiet haven of beauty and peace, with roses and fuschia taking center stage this time of year. They have several houses on their property which they rent out to a few young families, as well as a small meeting space they rent to a nearby Hare Krishna community. We spent two weeks WWOOFing there over Thanksgiving, and ended up returning to their house for Christmas as well (because we all know how important it is to spend Christmas with family).There is no way for me to fully express how magical our experiences were during our stay, but I will try to touch on a few experiences that might give you a taste of the place.

First of all, speaking of taste, Guruvati is one of the best cooks I have ever known. She cooks strictly vegetarian (the only one exempt from that rule is the dog), also without onion, garlic, or mushroom (as part of their spiritual following). Yet despite their (and my) ingredient limitations, I never had the same meal twice, which would have saddened me had the next meal not been even better than the last. She wasn't an extravagant cook by any means, preferring to keep the main course simple with one or two side dishes, but she would always throw in something out of the ordinary (like homemade goat cheese or vegetable croquettes covered in berry wine sauce). We had artichokes from the garden almost daily, and homemade jams and juices with every meal. And don't even get me started on our multiple Christmas delights-- all I will say is, BEST.CHEESECAKE.EVER. Praline and graham cracker crust, cinnamon and honey swirls, fresh hand-picked berries... I should stop before the memory of it makes me drool on the keyboard.

Our stay with HuG marks the initiation of our journey into the broad and eclectic world of Spirituality and Religion. The Hari Guru are members of a spiritual following called Ananda Marga, the main mantra of which is Baba Nam Kevalam, translated to "Everything is an expression of the Divine," or, more simply, "Love is All There Is." I am so down with that. During our stay we often chose to join Harideva (or as Neal called him, "Hairy Dave") in his twice-daily kirtan meditations. Every morning and evening he would don his yoga pants and give us his secretive gap-toothed smile as he shuffled toward the meditation room, which was the signal. Guruvati would join in if she wasn't feeding the goats (her favorite pastime) or working on dinner, and we would all sing the mantra and move in unison while Harideva played the guitar. Singing and dancing together is a very powerful meditative experience in itself, and I often found myself surprised by how quickly the music stopped. We would then sit together and meditate to the sound of birdsong and wind. Afterward, we would walk outside in silence, only to be greeted by the sweet, heady scent of roses. This experience was meaningful for me in several ways. I found that starting the day with peace and mindfulness sets the tone for nearly all subsequent experiences for that day, making love-focused actions so much easier to choose. I also discovered how quickly and effectively movement and song can put me in a meditative state of mind, something which previously required a good deal of restless shuffling and forced focus to accomplish. HaHA-- ADHD is no match for the powers of movement!! Plus, I just really love the mantra. I could sing it every day and it would never get old (unlike my mind's usual fallback entertainment of "Baby One More Time." Just kidding. That would be terrible).

During our stay, the neighborly Krishna clan invited us to Sunday rituals. Every Sunday evening, the Hare Krishnas would have a call-and-response kirtan (spiritual sing), followed by a discussion-slash-sermon on the Vedas (various spiritual scriptures, such as the Bhagavad Gita, which are utilized by many different religious sects), then we would share a delicious vegetarian meal. It was always a memorable and unique experience, and boy, did we always leave with something to talk about! We would hear about justifications for vegetarianism, karma, other sentient planets, and the "so-called end of the world"; and then we would head back over to HuG's and hear Harideva's passionate response to it all. It was extremely satisfying to get to hear so many new philosophies and then stay up super late having in-depth discussions about reincarnation and home-schooling and the like with such an enlightened soul, especially since his viewpoints are paired with his powerful desire to implement socio-economic change for the greater good. Ananda Marga is actually only one side of the coin; the spiritual beliefs are a supplement to the socio-economic theory of Prout (aka Progressive Utilization Theory). I will not go into great detail about this, as those of you who are interested will get a much better understanding of it through your own research, but it is basically a social theory which creates tools for sharing the earth's resources to reach the highest collective good. Neal was particularly interested in the application of Prout in the real world, and he spent many evenings alternating between reading furiously and presenting me with his personal opinions on the subject matter. I personally have not often heard of spiritual and social belief systems being paired together in this way, since most everyone in the U.S. seems entirely obsessed with keeping religion and politics separate, so needless to say I was intrigued. It also sparked in me the urge to always keep in mind "the people" as a unit when I try to decide what is best for my individual well-being.

Finally, although I very much enjoyed the farm work we did, it was a relief to get a little break once in awhile. Harideva took us down to swim in the cool river water a few times, and once we went on a bush walk to help him reset his rat traps. Supposedly we were walking on an established trail, but in my view, it was a "trail" only in the way the ferns and vines trailed behind my barely visible hiking boots as I struggled awkwardly along. I was also entirely convinced we were going in circles. The birdsong and beauty quickly overcame the obstacles, however, and we were once again wooed by New Zealand's mystical nature. We got home and were greeted by the tinkling sound of Guruvati's laughter as she observed the panting dog, our dirty clothes, and the leaves in my hair.

There are so many stories to tell about our growth and shared love with our hosts, but the point is that our eyes have started to open to new ways of living which can help us to keep joyfulness and mindfulness in our Here and Now. It is hard to forget how fortunate we are to be here when every other moment is an awe-inspiring experience, and we will definitely never forget that it all started at the House of HuG.

BULA!

Bula, bula-- this is definitely the mot du jour in Fiji. Bula when you greet, Bula when you eat, Bula when you sneeze, Bula when you drink kava...As our local friend Save Two said, "Bula stops only for sleep, then Bula again the next day!" This is the Fijian life.
The people here are strikingly hospitable, and friendly beyond mere politenes, to the point where we could have been blind and deaf and still ended up on the right bus!...or more likely, staying at some friendly local's house as part of the family.
We were met at the Nadi airport by Save (the first of two on our trip...we will dub him Save One), a host we met through the CouchSurfing website. He walked us to the bus stop, where we waited in sleep-deprived delirium and culture/climate shock until a bright orange, open air bus tightly packed with people came to a stop in front of us. I remarked on the cars driving on the left side of the road and Neal looked around with a boggled look on his face. He had not even noticed the difference, probably due to his delirium. We got on the bus and rode to Barara, Save's neighborhood, and met his entire family (we quickly learned that one house can have many extended members of the family living there for various timespans). The walls of the house were covered in painted paper made from what looked like coconut husks, and over it were hung pictures of the family, the islands, and Jesus. We put our bags in our designated room and went outside to play rugby with Save's two sons John, 8, and Maku, 5. Rugby is a BIG deal here. They play it all over the place, rain or shine, and when they aren't playing it they are talking about it. BIG deal. We watched the New Zealand vs Australia game on television in Suva, and we could hear the groans and cheers from the neighbors through the walls. BIG deal.
After playing until we were too drenched in sweat to see, we sat down and chatted with Save's uncle, Elijah. We discussed religions around the country and learned many Fijian phrases to use on our travels, and then he showed us a few of the traditional plants that are commonly eaten in Fiji. One such plant is cassava, a.k.a. Tapioca, a starchy and extremely versatile plant that is eaten with nearly every meal. I want to remark on the strangeness of this experience for us: Just a little over two weeks ago, Neal and I were visiting his grandmother Rita in Alpina, Michigan. Neal's aunt had brought over a big bowl of homemade tapioca, and she asked if my food allergies permitted me to eat it. I said I didn't know, and what is tapioca made of, anyway? We all searched the box for clues, but the only ingredient on the label was "Tapioca." So we left the mystery unsolved and I ate it anyway.
Well, friends, TAPIOCA MYSTERY SOLVED! Solved as much as anything can be solved, in fact. We got to know cassava very intimately on our trip, even visiting a cassava farm and harvesting it ourselves. Neal even got to plant a stalk of it (which pretty much consists of cutting the top off of an existing plant and sticking it into the ground because EVERYTHING grows in Fiji, but it was exciting nonetheless)! I also learned that my stomach does not do so well on three daily meals of cassava. Ah, the pleasures of learning! Nobody can say that we did not have an authentic Fiji experience after this trip.
We stayed with Save and his family for two days, then took a 3-hour bus to stay with the Finseths in Suva, promising to meet up with Save again at the end of our trip. Travis Finseth is my godparents' son, so when we heard that he was living close by, we hassled him via Skype and email until he let us stay with him. We spent four nights with Travis, his wife Jaime, and their three kids Reed, Mari, and Cade. They are a very upbeat and welcoming family, and we had a fantastic time with them. Travis took us to Colo i Suva, where we hiked through the rainforest and jumped into a warm pool from a rope swing. Neal practiced his backflips, and I practiced not screaming out loud before hitting the water. The next day, we got to see the tourist way of life at Pacific Harbor, building sandcastles on the beach and eating banana fritters in the shade. We watched the rugby game at their house and ate homemade mango ice cream. And on our last night, their friendly housewoman Matalita served us a full-on delicious traditional Fijian feast. The Finseths went out of their way to make us comfortable and we  enjoyed every minute of our time with them. Thank you again, Travis and Jaime! Come stay at our house anytime, as soon as we have one, and we will give you our version of the royal treatment.
While riding the bus to Suva, Neal struck up a conversation with the man sitting next to him, who we will call Save Two. By the end of the chat, Save had invited us to visit his village and participate in a kava ceremony, so we decided to take him up on it before leaving the island. We almost missed the bus out of Suva (buses are the only things that don't run on Fiji time), and Neal had to run up to the window as the bus was pulling out to stop them from going off without us. We met Save Two at the bus station in Sigatoka, after waiting for several minutes and nearly getting on the next bus to Save One's house in Nadi. He ambled up with a big smile on his face, and we walked with him to his village of Nayawa. Along the way, we shook hands with every single person on the street, who he was always somehow related to (I swear he had ten grandfathers)! As we walked, he talked to us about the True Fiji and told us that we had not truly been to Fiji until the moment we tasted kava.
Okay, our internet time is up. Updates again soon....