A Sacred Surprise

By Dawn

While in Kenya for a teaching job, I took a brief side trip to the town of Naivasha. The area is known for wildlife, and it is very beautiful--but after a day or two, I was feeling directionless. When I am focused on work, I’m not especially bothered if, for example, the power goes out for the third time, but without that intense concentration, minor inconveniences start to frustrate me.  

One day I decided to walk a mile or so to the central business district in search of the grocery store. Ostensibly, I was looking to buy snacks, but really I was giving myself the comfort of a familiar task. As I walked, I passed weather-beaten storefronts, outdoor stalls in the alleyways, and tables piled high with whatever new or used items someone had found to sell. Across the street from a Christian graveyard, several coffin-sellers had set up shop, along with a eulogy writer. A shop labeled “book store” was selling shirts.

Turning a corner, I saw a large, nondescript building. It didn’t look like a grocery store, but in this place, who knew? I walked closer and saw a handwritten sign taped to the fence: “No parking in front of the Hindu temple.” Hindu temple? Now that I looked, I saw that, yes, this was a temple. I tried the door, expecting it to be locked. Instead, it opened directly into a Hanuman shrine room. No one was there, but a guest book made it seem that visitors were welcome, so I left my shoes by the door and tentatively sat before the shrine. From another part of the building, I heard children’s voices, and presently, a man peeked in and indicated that it was okay for me to stay.

I don’t know much about Hanuman, other than that he was Lord Rama’s strong and devoted servant, nor did I understand the Sanskrit transliteration above the altar, but I decided to meditate for a while. This is not a dramatic story. I did not have a sudden revelation or transformation. After a time, I signed the guestbook, left a donation, and found the grocery store down the road. 

Still, I continue to mentally visit that quiet temple, in a place where I hadn’t expected to find one. I’ve thought about the strength and devotion of Hanuman, and the way that strength is necessary, perhaps inseparable from devotion. I’ve also been trying to apply the same determined focus—and more—to my spiritual life as I do to my daily work. These are not new ideas but they have been reinforced for me by a new way of looking at them. With the help of my iPhone camera and Google, I later found a translation of the Sanskrit above the altar. Shree Hanuman Chalisa is a devotional song, which includes this line: All difficult tasks of this world become easy, with your grace.