New York:
It was just after dawn last Sunday when a pair of pilgrims lighted incense on the shore and dropped two coconuts into the sacred waters, otherwise known as Jamaica Bay.
The shells bobbed in the surf, not far from clay bowls, rotting limes and waterlogged rags that had washed back ashore, flotsam from previous Hindu ceremonies to mark festivals, births, deaths and everything in between.
As the Hindu population has grown in Queens over the last decade, so too has the amount of ritual debris -- clothing, statues, even cremation ashes -- lining the banks of the bay in Gateway National Recreation Area.
"We call it the Ganges," one pilgrim, Madan Padarat, said as he finished his prayers. "She takes away your sickness, your pain, your suffering."
But to the park rangers who patrol the beach, the holy waters are a fragile habitat, the offerings are trash and the littered shores are a federal preserve that must be kept clean for picnickers, fishermen and kayakers. Unlike the Ganges, they say, the enclosed bay does not sweep the refuse away.
The result is a standoff between two camps that regard the site as sacrosanct for very different reasons, and have spent years in a quiet tug of war between ancient traditions and modern regulations. Strenuous diplomacy on both sides has helped, but only to a point.
"I can't stop the people and say, 'You can't come to the water and make offerings,' " said Pandit Chunelall Narine, the priest at a thriving Ozone Park temple, Shri Trimurti Bhavan, who sometimes performs services by the bay. "We are at a dead end right now."
On Friday, Earth Day, prominent Hindu leaders plan to join park rangers in a cleanup of the beach, close to Kennedy International Airport, as part of a longstanding "leave no trace" campaign. Park officials, wary of dictating matters of faith, have reached out to Hindu temples, gently encouraging members to pray at the waters but to leave nothing there for the gods. And many Hindus have obliged.
But as new immigrants arrive, unaware of the rules, and others refuse to change their ways, park rangers have intermittently forsaken good-cop sensitivity for bad-cop force: installing signs, closing the parking lot at night and threatening to hand out $75 fines, to little avail.
"It's been a mounting problem for years," said Kathy Krause, the supervisory park ranger. "The breakdown of these items is very, very harmful."
It started with the coconuts.
John Zuzworsky, a former ranger, noticed dozens of them washing up in Jamaica Bay a decade ago, even though the nearest coconut trees were probably 1,200 miles away. Then he found flags, bamboo sticks, saris and coins.
After asking around and witnessing a few Hindu rituals, he learned that the items were religious offerings. Hindus must go to the shore and leave offerings to Mother Ganga, the goddess of the river, to show respect and ensure blessings in this life and the next. "The offering is not complete unless it's finally put in the water," Mr. Narine explained.
Mr. Zuzworsky saw an opening for discussion. "A lot of the Hindu traditions are based in respecting the earth, and we were a national park," said the former ranger, who trained as a wildlife biologist but volunteered his services as a liaison to Hindus. "I thought there was a real connection."
He visited dozens of Hindu temples to discuss the area's fragile ecosystem -- how saris could strangle the sea grass, flowers could choke the birds, and fruit could disrupt the food chain. Since Mr. Zuzworsky left the park in 2008, rangers have become even more creative in spreading the word, joining a panel of priests on a local television channel. Ms. Krause discussed litter before more than 1,000 Hindus at an outdoor reading of the Ramayana.
Cremated remains are a particularly touchy subject. The scattering of ashes in water is among Hinduism's most sacred rituals, necessary for a successful transition to the next life. The practice has drawn concern from park officials; they issue special permits for spreading ashes on a case-by-base basis, but Hindu leaders acknowledge that some bereaved families do not wait for permission.
Most Hindus who visit the beach are immigrants from the Caribbean islands and Guyana who have settled in the Richmond Hill area of Queens. They are largely descendants of Indian workers sent to the Caribbean in the 19th century.
Dozens of Hindu temples fill the blocks surrounding Liberty Avenue, the backbone of the city's Little Guyana, where fragrant roti shops flank colorful sari stores. Some congregations meet in tight basement quarters, and others in extravagantly decorated compounds, but all profess that important rituals must be conducted by the water.
While some go to the Rockaways or Ferry Point Park, the most popular spot is the beach near North Channel Bridge, as it used to be called. "I love the water, I revere the water, it is my mother," Mr. Narine said, arms thrust toward foggy Jamaica Bay.
The waters there are not nearly as dirty as the Ganges, which is thick with factory runoff, untreated sewage and, of course, religious offerings. But some Hindu leaders have embraced the park rangers' message that their offerings threaten the bay.
The beach was "really disgustingly filthy," said Nagassar Ramgarib, a retired electrician and a leader at a Queens temple, Shiva Mandir. "I was deeply ashamed of what my culture, Hinduism, has contributed to." He rallied several members of his temple to help clean up, and he began working with park officials.
Even family members disagree. Mr. Narine's brother, Dhanpaul, a public school teacher, contends that Hindus must follow American laws and adapt their ancient customs. Some priests have suggested compromises, like dipping the coconuts in the water seven times, then taking them home to throw away.
"They should understand we are in a different country now," said Pandit B. Rishi Misir, a Brooklyn priest who leads a Hindu group, USA Pandits' Parishad. "Our scripture does mention that we should follow the country's rules and regulations. But some people are very stubborn."
Ricky Kanhai and his wife, Asha, both 28, visited the beach last Sunday to pray that they would soon have a child. Mr. Kanhai waded into the water and poured jugs of milk, dyed pink with turmeric, into the sea foam. From the shore, his mother-in-law, Lalita Prasad, waved a tray of fried treats toward the bay. Normally, Ms. Prasad would leave the pastries in the water for Mother Ganga. But because of the fines and the park rules, she packed them back into a plastic bag to take home.
"In your heart, you feel like your offering is not accepted," she said. "But we have to obey the rules."
The shells bobbed in the surf, not far from clay bowls, rotting limes and waterlogged rags that had washed back ashore, flotsam from previous Hindu ceremonies to mark festivals, births, deaths and everything in between.
As the Hindu population has grown in Queens over the last decade, so too has the amount of ritual debris -- clothing, statues, even cremation ashes -- lining the banks of the bay in Gateway National Recreation Area.
"We call it the Ganges," one pilgrim, Madan Padarat, said as he finished his prayers. "She takes away your sickness, your pain, your suffering."
But to the park rangers who patrol the beach, the holy waters are a fragile habitat, the offerings are trash and the littered shores are a federal preserve that must be kept clean for picnickers, fishermen and kayakers. Unlike the Ganges, they say, the enclosed bay does not sweep the refuse away.
The result is a standoff between two camps that regard the site as sacrosanct for very different reasons, and have spent years in a quiet tug of war between ancient traditions and modern regulations. Strenuous diplomacy on both sides has helped, but only to a point.
"I can't stop the people and say, 'You can't come to the water and make offerings,' " said Pandit Chunelall Narine, the priest at a thriving Ozone Park temple, Shri Trimurti Bhavan, who sometimes performs services by the bay. "We are at a dead end right now."
On Friday, Earth Day, prominent Hindu leaders plan to join park rangers in a cleanup of the beach, close to Kennedy International Airport, as part of a longstanding "leave no trace" campaign. Park officials, wary of dictating matters of faith, have reached out to Hindu temples, gently encouraging members to pray at the waters but to leave nothing there for the gods. And many Hindus have obliged.
But as new immigrants arrive, unaware of the rules, and others refuse to change their ways, park rangers have intermittently forsaken good-cop sensitivity for bad-cop force: installing signs, closing the parking lot at night and threatening to hand out $75 fines, to little avail.
"It's been a mounting problem for years," said Kathy Krause, the supervisory park ranger. "The breakdown of these items is very, very harmful."
It started with the coconuts.
John Zuzworsky, a former ranger, noticed dozens of them washing up in Jamaica Bay a decade ago, even though the nearest coconut trees were probably 1,200 miles away. Then he found flags, bamboo sticks, saris and coins.
After asking around and witnessing a few Hindu rituals, he learned that the items were religious offerings. Hindus must go to the shore and leave offerings to Mother Ganga, the goddess of the river, to show respect and ensure blessings in this life and the next. "The offering is not complete unless it's finally put in the water," Mr. Narine explained.
Mr. Zuzworsky saw an opening for discussion. "A lot of the Hindu traditions are based in respecting the earth, and we were a national park," said the former ranger, who trained as a wildlife biologist but volunteered his services as a liaison to Hindus. "I thought there was a real connection."
He visited dozens of Hindu temples to discuss the area's fragile ecosystem -- how saris could strangle the sea grass, flowers could choke the birds, and fruit could disrupt the food chain. Since Mr. Zuzworsky left the park in 2008, rangers have become even more creative in spreading the word, joining a panel of priests on a local television channel. Ms. Krause discussed litter before more than 1,000 Hindus at an outdoor reading of the Ramayana.
Cremated remains are a particularly touchy subject. The scattering of ashes in water is among Hinduism's most sacred rituals, necessary for a successful transition to the next life. The practice has drawn concern from park officials; they issue special permits for spreading ashes on a case-by-base basis, but Hindu leaders acknowledge that some bereaved families do not wait for permission.
Most Hindus who visit the beach are immigrants from the Caribbean islands and Guyana who have settled in the Richmond Hill area of Queens. They are largely descendants of Indian workers sent to the Caribbean in the 19th century.
Dozens of Hindu temples fill the blocks surrounding Liberty Avenue, the backbone of the city's Little Guyana, where fragrant roti shops flank colorful sari stores. Some congregations meet in tight basement quarters, and others in extravagantly decorated compounds, but all profess that important rituals must be conducted by the water.
While some go to the Rockaways or Ferry Point Park, the most popular spot is the beach near North Channel Bridge, as it used to be called. "I love the water, I revere the water, it is my mother," Mr. Narine said, arms thrust toward foggy Jamaica Bay.
The waters there are not nearly as dirty as the Ganges, which is thick with factory runoff, untreated sewage and, of course, religious offerings. But some Hindu leaders have embraced the park rangers' message that their offerings threaten the bay.
The beach was "really disgustingly filthy," said Nagassar Ramgarib, a retired electrician and a leader at a Queens temple, Shiva Mandir. "I was deeply ashamed of what my culture, Hinduism, has contributed to." He rallied several members of his temple to help clean up, and he began working with park officials.
Even family members disagree. Mr. Narine's brother, Dhanpaul, a public school teacher, contends that Hindus must follow American laws and adapt their ancient customs. Some priests have suggested compromises, like dipping the coconuts in the water seven times, then taking them home to throw away.
"They should understand we are in a different country now," said Pandit B. Rishi Misir, a Brooklyn priest who leads a Hindu group, USA Pandits' Parishad. "Our scripture does mention that we should follow the country's rules and regulations. But some people are very stubborn."
Ricky Kanhai and his wife, Asha, both 28, visited the beach last Sunday to pray that they would soon have a child. Mr. Kanhai waded into the water and poured jugs of milk, dyed pink with turmeric, into the sea foam. From the shore, his mother-in-law, Lalita Prasad, waved a tray of fried treats toward the bay. Normally, Ms. Prasad would leave the pastries in the water for Mother Ganga. But because of the fines and the park rules, she packed them back into a plastic bag to take home.
"In your heart, you feel like your offering is not accepted," she said. "But we have to obey the rules."
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