By Sana Agarwal
Every day, as the afternoon rolls in, many of us queue in front of the Hare Krishna cart for a steaming hot plate of healthy vegetarian food. The perfect rescue from our rushed mornings, skipped meals, and crumbling bank accounts, and a delightful escape from London’s rocketing food prices. It is safe to say that most students at LSE have had Hare Krishna food at least once. We have all had our bellies full and hearts grateful for the kindness and dedication of the volunteers and the organisation. Thus, for my first Flipside interview of the year, I decided to interview the Hare Krishna volunteers: Volodymyr Ferhardt who serves food at LSE, Ibragim Dimesinov who often serves at SOAS, and their manager Peter O’Grady. The interview took place at their Euston Foodbank where every morning they prepare food for thousands.
The Hare Krishna movement, also known as the International Society of Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON), was started in 1974 by Srila Prabhupada, who – shocked and saddened upon seeing a group of village children fighting with street dogs over scraps of food – told his yoga students: “No one within ten miles of a temple should go hungry.” Despite being a religious organisation the philosophy to this day remains the same – to serve the needy. It is the world’s largest vegetarian food distribution program serving millions of meals daily and has grown to include 300 temples, 40 rural communities, and 80 restaurants in 71 countries. In London specifically, Food for Life in London affiliated with the FL global charity is an initiative from London’s Radha-Krishna Temple, and has been feeding hot vegetarian meals to the homeless in Central London since 1994.
As I walked into the Euston Foodbank, I was quickly enwrapped by the positivity of the place and the friendliness of the volunteers. We sat outside on a little bench on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. Volodymyr and Ibragim started by telling me a little bit about themselves: Ibragim first explained that he joined the organisation a few months ago. He came to London after quitting his job. “I am originally from Kazakhstan. I was studying in Moscow, and recently, I was working with the Kazakh government as the chief expert in data analysis in the Department of Culture and Sports. I loved my job, but I wanted to do more than just my job – [I wanted] to help people.” Explaining the move to London, he expressed he has “been involved in Hare Krishna since my childhood; my parents started volunteering in 1996, after reading the Bhagavad Gita.” He further explained his motivations as not just religious, but dually cultural: “In our Kazakh culture, the general motto is that it is better to give than to receive, to share food and spread a positive mood with people. It makes us truly happy.” He further emphasised the importance of the work the organisation does and the need for it in today’s world with increasing poverty and homelessness. “22% of Great Britain is in need of financial support. Food will not solve the problem, but it helps!”
Similarly, Volodymyr exclaimed that he too, after reading the Bhagavad Gita, was inspired to join the organisation. “I am originally from Ukraine. I was born in Kyiv, [and] I came across the book when I was searching for some higher knowledge about life. I wanted to understand the consciousness of the soul, and I found it to be very logical and scientific.” He lived as a monk in a temple in Denmark for a few years and eventually decided to move to London about a year ago. “It’s nice here because there is a Hare Krishna community along our temple in Watford,” to which Ibragim added, “Yes, and my goal is to initiate one in my home country Kazakhstan too.”
As we were talking, a rather gleeful man walked in, greeting me with a big smile – their manager Peter O’Grady, a lovely Irish man in his 60s who has been a volunteer for 41 years. He kindly sat down on the bench with us, delighted to join the conversation. The three of them went on to explain, “For us, and many of the volunteers, the centre of our work is not our religious beliefs, but the desire and philosophy to help people. We have volunteers from every background – Christians, Muslims and agnostics, but we are all alike in our belief to serve others.”
“And then, of course, there are the bankers from Goldman Sachs, Barclays, who come to chop the veggies in the morning to wash off their sins, you know,” Peter wittily remarked, making the room giggle.
When I asked Peter about his journey as a volunteer, he said: “Well, I started off at a restaurant in 1989, which closed at eight o’clock at night, and we would take all the old food. We’d mix it all up – the samosas and the pizzas, throw it in there and it tasted very nice.” He smirked. ‘Supermarkets throw so much food away. So we collect more and more food, and redistribute it to people, and that really is what the original philosophy is about,’ signalling to the founder of ISKCON Swami Prabhupada and his famous words, “Nobody should go hungry within 10 miles of a temple.”
As our conversation progressed, the trio emphasised the environmental impact of the organisation and their work – that “it’s not just a handout. This is [also] an environmental initiative. [We live in] a consumer society; we make stuff, and we chuck it. This food has been diverted from landfills. We take them [and] we use them straight away instead of polluting the environment. So this is a delicious way to protect the environment; [it’s a] good solution.” Peter smiled widely, rubbing his stomach to mimic a full belly. He adds, “We don’t work with a menu; we make the most of what we go. We take all this food that’s been thrown away by the companies and reuse it, especially the Walkers Crisps.” Peter laughed in a heart-warming manner as he handed us all a packet and insisted we indulge.
The trio went on to tell me about the various places Hare Krishna is present and the reach of the organisation – Ukraine, Morocco, Turkey, Syria, and more. “We had a team last week in Morocco, distributing food in Casablanca after the earthquake hit, [and] thousands of people lost their home, their everything.” He proceeded to show me pictures. He further expressed, “I was in Kherson, Ukraine a couple of months ago and a man had just finished building his house with a swimming pool. Then the war happened. All his plans are finished. And he gave us the keys and told us to cook in this place. So we cooked inside the swimming pool. Oh, and [with] the rockets are flying overhead.’’
Peter then took me to his food delivery van, showing me bullet holes that pierced through it. He exclaimed, “See the holes come here and they go to the ceiling there, it was at night and I was in the bunker.” To this, I asked, “What gives you the courage to step into such a vulnerable situation?” Peter answers in a jiffy, “Once you [have] all these children queuing up, once my community and my friends are there, I have to be there. Everything in life is risky, you never know what will happen, so why not take risks for a reason.”
I inquired, “Why university campuses?”, curious to understand the contrast between LSE and war-torn places. “You may have so many dreams at the LSE of what you’re going to do with your wealth, and how you’re going to make your business. But in one second, it can all be changed. Nobody expected their material dreams [could] be shattered as Putin [sent] his soldiers across the border,” Peter said, emphasising the need to recognise our money-oriented mindset, to ponder on what’s beyond – rooted in his experiences over the years. The trio went on to express how universities these days are focused on teaching people how to make money, and students are simply viewed as human resources. “And then there is us in the middle of that, distributing free food,” Volodymyr smirked. “It’s confusing, right? Isn’t it?”
As we reached the end of the interview, I asked: “What impact do you want to leave on the students you serve every day?” Peter, a man who has been volunteering for almost his entire life, thought to himself for a brief moment and confessed: “Students should know that real wealth is not measured in money, but measured in a substance that you cannot steal. It’s a real quality life. It’s not on the debit cards. Because the people in the city of London, they’re so poor that all they’ve got is money. But real wealth is measured in the things that you cannot have stolen away from you.” As his words settled in the room, I felt lucky to witness this profound glimpse of faith, of humanity.
Peter and his team then showed me around the food bank, taking us through the kitchen, showing me the storage areas, the huge pots that can cook for 5,000 people, and their compost area around which they were making flower beds. As Peter explained every element to us, one thing was clear: his devotion to serving others, to making this world better one belly at a time.
When asked for a final remark, the team expressed, “What’s lacking in the world is a bit of love. So this food is cooked with love by volunteers and is given with love to students. And then we hope that love will echo within the people.” So, go grab yourself a plate of love from our spectre of humanity and hope on campus, our very own little magic against the backdrop of this chaotic and sometimes selfish world.
Images by Ben Chen
