Berkley Center

When walking through the streets of London I pass every sort of person imaginable. After traversing the same route at the same time day after day, I began to pick out a group of routinely familiar faces. There are the two Italian businessmen sitting at the same table at the same coffee shop; the powerfully-suited mother dropping her daughter off at daycare; and the girl with carefully covered hair, wearing a long skirt and rolling a case full of books.

Several weeks into my morning routine of passing by the now-familiar faces, my curiosity finally got the best of me. I asked the book-toting girl what she was distributing. This innocuous inquiry ultimately allowed me to experience a whole facet of the London religious scene I knew nothing about: Hare Krishna.

The girl with the books, named Sukhayanti, eagerly filled me in on her religious work and more cautiously told me about her background. I was intrigued, and when she invited me to visit her at the temple, I accepted. Wary but extremely curious, I had vague memories of stories of radical Krishna cults across the United States, but I couldn't help wanting to learn more. Prior to this, my experience with religion in London had been limited to the drafty half-empty churches practicing Western religions and the enormously crowded mosques springing up around the city. The central London Krishna Temple is a tidy four-story building along Soho Square. The street level contains a vegetarian restaurant, run by the devotees; the next level houses the main temple and classrooms; and the third and fourth floors are made up of dormitories for the resident practitioners.

The people known as devotees are those who have decided to fully practice Krishna-consciousness. During my initial walk-through, I glimpsed at least 20 young people all working hard in various tasks, apparently laboring both for the sake of their own beliefs and to keep the temple operating. These resident devotees all work and study in exchange for room and board. Since families and people with significant others are not allowed to live in the temple, the majority of practitioners are non-residents. This I discovered at my first Sunday evening gathering, when the place was packed to the gills with a vastly diverse group of people; Indian families, Eastern European backpackers, and American Ph.D. students made up some of the group happily removing their shoes at the door and pouring inside.

This bewildering group delightedly chatted with each other until the service began. After the hour-long session of lecture and chanting, everyone once again courteously and patiently filed out, found their shoes, and headed downstairs to eat. What struck me the most was the instant bond between all devotees; families might use the meal-time to catch up, but always welcomed anyone else to sit down and chat. Through my conversations with various attendees, I found that the majority came in at least once a week. The temple is considered by all to be a safe haven from the surrounding chaos of London.

The majority of practitioners are immigrants from afar: India, Pakistan, America, and Morocco were a few of the home countries mentioned. Their faith in Krishna seems to create an indelible bond amongst the group. Whenever schedules permitted, the majority would return to the temple to volunteer in some capacity, be it food preparation and distribution, book sales, or teaching classes. All Krishna temples must be self-sufficient by relying on devotee volunteers, and many supplement their income by operating public restaurants. Two nights every week, rain or shine, volunteers wheel out carts full of freshly prepared hot food to distribute to the needy around London. Initially, I assumed they were only giving away food to London's homeless population; in fact, they offer food to everyone, believing that all of us are needy in some way. As I was told, “Everyone is hungry for something, be it food, love, or spirituality. Hare Krishna aims to fulfill all needs.” While the temple and chanting originally seemed very foreign to me, I came to feel that it simply codifies and encourages many of the same beliefs we all naturally strive to practice.