Night at the Theatre

Holy Cow and Hare Krishna: A Christian's Unexpected Journey on an Aussie Farm

The most dynamic, memorable volunteer adventure yet. And maybe even still.

This escapade began when I was invited to spend the night in a movie theater. Not your average Regal Cinemas, but an Indian-inspired, spiritually-based, cockroach-infested cinema with delectable vegetarian cuisine, a local band, meditation evenings and oh, movies, of course.

I’d just spent five awesome days touring around Sydney and staying in an amazing, sociable hostel. While coordinating logistics for my first volunteer experience in Australia (located in Millfield, about a 2-hour drive north of Sydney), the host of this opportunity, Tony, offered to drive me up to the site, as his time in Sydney overlapped with mine. In addition to Swami (Sanskrit term for spiritual teacher or guru) and host of this Workaway opportunity, Tony was also the owner of Govindas, a cinema and restaurant catered toward the Hare Krishna community. He’d spend three days per week down in Sydney working at Govindas and the rest of the week up at the Hare Krishna Farm, called New Gokula, which is where I’d be volunteering for the next two weeks.

Yet again, I only had assumptions of what would be in store for me at this farm, but no clear ideas. However, I knew one thing: It’d be a wildly unique, probably very weird and different experience, for I’d be living in a Hare Krishna community. All I knew about the Hare Krishna religion was that they wore long, flowy clothes (similar to monks) and the men were often bald. I’d only heard the term “Hare Krishna” a few times before from the Beatles and George Harrison specifically, thanks to my dad.

So, Tony let me know we’d be making the drive up at 6:30 a.m. and offered I stay in Govindas the night prior for convenience purposes. From the hostel I was staying in, Govindas was only a 6-minute walk away. How convenient! So, the evening before the drive I grabbed my four bags and headed to Govindas. However, I underestimated how slow I’d walk because my excessive luggage was actually a joke. Thank goodness I was in a safe country because I was a mugging waiting to happen.

What should’ve been a 6-minute walk turned into a 20-minute walk. It was a cool evening, yet I was sweating with one pack on my back, one on my stomach and two draped across each forearm.

A man from behind swiftly caught up next to me, looked me up and down and asked, “You need a hand?” Now, my guard goes up when any man looks me up and down, but his face was like he was looking a clown up and down. And like I said, at that moment I was a joke. I’d look me up and down with a bewildered expression, too.

“Oh, that’s alright. Thank you though, I’m almost at my destination,” I replied panting.

“You sure? Where you headed?” he asked with a fun, Australian accent.

“Govindas? It’s a movie theatre just over here, I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh, Govindas! I love that place! I haven’t been there in forever, but they have amazing food. They’ve been around for a while… great spot. You sure I can’t give you a quick hand? You still got a little ways to go.” This man seemed friendly, and honestly, I could use a lot of hands.

“Oh, sure…. thank you so much,” I said with relief as I handed him a bag, and he insisted on taking one more.

Just so you know, I don’t normally hand over my bags to strangers on the street when they ask. (I swear I’m smart, Mom!)

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I entered the doors of Govindas and was greeted by a bubbly, Indian lady in a bright green, flowy dress. She welcomed me and instructed me to set my bags in a spacious room on the first floor. The room was lined with cushions and pillows before a slightly elevated stage.

Then, she grabbed me by the hand and danced me over to meet a man she was in a band with. He happily greeted me, a little too happily. They seemed high on something, but maybe it was just life.

The man sat at his drumset and began playing a beat while the lady grabbed both my hands and started chanting and twirling me around like a doll. My smile said I’m happy to be here, but my eyes said Where am I??

That was weird. But they were nice.

After I’d been spun dizzy, Tony finally hobbled downstairs and told me to come up. He was an old man with hearing aids, but his genuine smile and soft voice stood out the most. I followed him up red, velvet stairs to a feast like I’d never seen. A group of people sat around a big table, clearly with full bellies as the plates before them were cleared. Tony walked me to the buffet, introduced me to the chef and told me to fill up a plate. A bountiful harvest of veggie dishes, rice, curry, salad, naan and weird food I’ve never seen before layed before me. I was hungry, so I really did pile up my plate.

Tony sat me at a table by myself and said he’d come and join me in a minute. The food was marvelous. It was so healthy and surprisingly not very spicy at all!

This place was definitely interesting, however. Some funky people were sitting at the table next to mine, random paintings hung on the wall and there was an old, musty smell saturating the air. I began to wonder if Tony was slowly poisoning me with this delicious food… After about 10 minutes of thinking that even if I do pass out, at least I’ll knock out following the best meal of my life, Tony came over and asked, “You don’t like it??”

“Oh, no!” I exclaimed. “I love it, I’m just a really slow eater. Ha, I’m sorry. This food is amazing.” I always hate it when that happens. I truly am a very slow eater (just ask anyone who knows me), but I’m not a picky eater by any means. I like 95% of food, especially if it’s unique or a meal I’ve never had. I just hate when people assume I don’t like their food because I really do — it sounds like a fake excuse when I blame my slow eating tendencies.

“Oh, good good,” he affirmed with a nod and sat across from me. He gave me the 411 on Govindas and told me about a few of the regulars, his wife and which movies were currently being shown. I had many follow-up questions about the place, himself, his life and the farm. After each question, however, he’d blink a few times, wet his lips and stare me in the eyes. He was like an old robot slowly processing data. It was odd at first, but I later realized that this pause and stutter that preceded any response of his was due to the booting up of his hearing aids. Between my eating and his talking, we were just a couple of sloths.

Tony showed me the cinema, and instead of seats there were rows and rows of king-size beds. He mentioned that Govidas is a popular date night spot, and I can only imagine why! As he slowly explained the layout of the cinema, a huge cockroach caught the corner of my eye… just chillin’ on one of the beds. I’m not kidding — it looked like a dog turd, it was that big… “Ope, we got a little friend over there,” I chuckled uncomfortably and pointed to the roach.

“Ahh yes, that’s Australia for ya,” Tony replied like no big deal.

I assumed I’d be sleeping here (which I felt a bit reluctant about because 1. I had no idea how clean these sheets were, and 2. I didn’t want to intrude on the massive roach’s slumber), though Tony led me back downstairs to the first room with all the cushions. He said I’d be sleeping here and grabbed a pile of blankets and pillows from the cabinet. Then, he showed me the shower and told me to freshen up and be ready by 6:30 the following morning!

I took a glorious shower, snapped in my retainer and just as I was ready to hit the hay this man with long, curly hair entered the room. “Oh, hey there!”

I was caught off guard and replied, “Oh, hi!” with a giant lisp from my retainer. I explained that I was spending the night there and heading up to the farm with Tony to volunteer. He shared that his name was Nila — he was the cook’s son and living in one of the back rooms of Govindas. We chatted for way longer than I’d anticipated — all about our shared love of travel, sports and volleyball specifically. He played competitive volleyball worldwide and had some crazy stories to share.

As the conversation picked up, I just never found the appropriate time to pop out my slimy retainer. You know, that’s never really appealing. It’d been probably 45 minutes, and I’d already got this guy thinking I had a huge, nerdy lisp. But I eventually had enough and announced that I simply needed to pop out my retainer. “Sorry, I have a night guard in,” I said as I quickly put it away and broke the string of spit dangling from my mouth. Very attractive.

“Oh wow, you sound a lot more clear. I just thought that was your real voice!”

We talked for hours more, and I was dying to sleep. Once Nila finally retreated to his room, I snapped my retainer back in and let my head fall to the pillow. I’d never slept in a movie theater before!

I prayed I wouldn’t wake up with a roach in my ear. Also, I didn’t get poisoned!