Almost Heaven
The curious dichotomy of West Virginia
My cousin Barbara lives not far from the Ohio River near Smithfield, Ohio, in the convoluted folds of the Appalachian Plateau, deep in coal country. I was born there on the banks of the river in Martins Ferry, Ohio, quite by accident when my very pregnant mother flew out from Philly for her father’s funeral, and I came early. Like salmon that migrate to where they were born to spawn, I feel drawn to the Ohio River, my natal stream, even though my spawning days are over.
Barb is on the struggle bus these days, but her bright smile and pleasant demeanor belie the hard reality of her current battle with pancreatic cancer. Her career in the Army Nurse Corps, where she retired as lieutenant colonel, gives her a full understanding of what she is facing, but her resolve gives her the courage and stamina to keep seeking clinical trials.
I visited Barb last weekend, and we caught up on family details, including her health. This feisty Polish Princess is not giving up. We shared some Lentils and Noodles that I brought her, since I knew that she had been vegetarian, and I asked her about the ISKCON (International Society for Krishna Consciousness) community that is not too far from where she lives. She had been there many years ago but found it too showy and gaudy. I wondered about it.
When I left Barb, I drove downriver to Moundsville, West Virginia, and stopped to see the mound in the center of town. It’s big, with a path that winds to the top, and it was a good place to send a prayer heavenward while standing in a space sacred to the indigenous people of the region from the Adena Culture, who built the mound in 250 to 100 BC. While looking out over the winding river, the bridge, and, just across the street, the massive West Virginia Penitentiary, built in 1866 and decommissioned in 1995, a major wind whipped up. I scurried down to my car to see that there was a tornado watch. I holed up for the night and left early the next day to check out the Hare Krishna community.
The eleven miles from Moundsville to New Vrindaban was a Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride of hairpin curves, dips, and climbs, crumbling shoulders with dilapidated trailers and rusting, overturned vehicles. I was in West Virginia holler country until, suddenly, I wasn’t. As I ascended a plateau, the road widened, and houses on either side were spacious and traditional. I saw a welcome sign and headed down the hill.
I entered the temple and heard rhythmic chanting accompanied by drum, bells, and keyboard. People were swaying, some dancing and clapping, clearly focused on the religious experience. I grew up next to a Catholic Church and have attended many high Masses in my lifetime; this was on a par with them. It felt sacred and transcendent. People entering the temple paid homage to a statue on the right, offering a few rose petals from a silver platter before falling to the floor, prostrate before the deity.
The grounds were impeccably cared for, and wide paths wound through the compound, where pilgrims strolled or sat in quiet meditation. Children laughed and chased after each other in a playground in front of one of the lodges. I walked up to the Palace of Gold past swans in the lake and peacocks strutting about on Peacock Walk, where they were intended to be. I passed statues of cows and an elephant, as well as two 40-foot-tall Gaura Nitai sculptures designed to inspire joy and love for God.
When Govinda’s Restaurant opened for lunch, I was the first to go through the buffet line. The foods were hot, fresh, and delicious, especially the bright salad with a light, lemony dressing over robust arugula leaves. The halwa, a brown semolina dish that looked less than appetizing, was actually quite tasty and a nice finish. I got a chai tea to go and headed back on the road toward home. Lunch was $20 with my chai tea.
Dear Reader, I didn’t want to prejudice you before you read about my visit, but I did learn some very dark secrets about New Vrindaban while listening to a two-part podcast about the property on my way to and from. The founder of the community, born Keith Ham in Peekskill, New York, became a powerful force in the global Hare Krishna movement, adopting the name Kirtanananda Swami. The son of a Baptist preacher, he attempted to blend elements of Christianity into the devotion. He was eventually expelled and convicted of child molestation, murder, and embezzling ten million dollars that had been earned by the chanting Hare Krishna disciples who used to collect cash in airports and at large sporting events. He ruled there from 1968 to 1987, before the ISKCON Governing Body Commission returned New Vrindaban to the standard Indian form practiced worldwide. He served time in prison and eventually died in India.
Today, New Vrindaban is overseen by a local board of directors led by the Temple president, who works under the guidance of the ISKCON Governing Body Commission. Its problems of the past, like those the Catholic Church faced, have faded from memory, and the congregation focuses on the present and on the celebration of the Hare Krishna ideology. While I was there, a two-day festival was underway, and the license plates on the cars in the parking lot indicated that many attendees traveled from out of state.
On my drive home, I had much to consider. My cousin and her battle, the Native American presence at Moundsville, and the perplexing Palace of Gold crowning a mountaintop surrounded by abject poverty in West Virginia. Almost Heaven.
But I was inspired to make a vegetarian soup the next day, with cauliflower and red lentils, and here is the recipe. It’s quick to put together and delicious with a dollop of full-fat yogurt, with a thank-you nod to the cows.
Thai Coconut Cauliflower and Red Lentil Soup
Makes @ 3 quarts
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon dried ginger or 1 tablespoon fresh grated ginger
2 tablespoons Thai red curry paste
1½ teaspoons cumin
1½ teaspoons turmeric
1½ teaspoons coriander
3 bay leaves
One 14-ounce can of coconut milk
One 14-ounce can or pouch of diced tomatoes
About a quart of water (from rinsing out the coconut milk and tomato containers)
1 cup red lentils, rinsed
One small head (1½ pounds) of cauliflower, roughly chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
Plain yogurt
Fresh cilantro
Heat the olive oil in a soup pot, add the diced onion, and let it cook while you assemble the other ingredients. When the onion is just starting to caramelize, add the garlic, ginger, curry paste, and the cumin, turmeric, coriander, and bay leaves, and stir to coat the aromatics.
Add the coconut milk and tomatoes, then rinse the containers with water that you add to the soup pot. Add a tablespoon of Kosher salt and grind in lots of fresh black pepper.
Add the lentils and cauliflower, bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium and cook for about half an hour. You may need to add more water to reach the consistency you want. Season with salt and pepper to taste, then serve with a dollop of yogurt and a sprig (or small handful) of fresh cilantro on top.
That’s a new record, Jodi!