On the afternoon of October 2, not many noticed the tiny, two-propeller DC-3 with BASCO markings slowly steer its way through barricades and wreckage on the runway at Cairo International, dwarfed by giant jets from almost every nation, to park in front of the multitiered transit terminal. Few remarked the small gaggle of Hare Krishna devotees that stumbled from the fuselage to emerge in unfamiliar heat, escorted by khaki-clad men armed with Kalashnikovs to a shaded compound in front of the terminal. When these strange people began clanging cymbals, clapping hands, and singing and dancing around, their guards began to pay attention. What in Allah’s name was going on? Within minutes, dozens of soldiers and policemen surrounded the robed dervishes, and hundreds of stranded passengers ran to the airport’s balconies to witness the first wave of the World Sankirtan Party – eleven souls oblivious to war and politics on a journey to the East to meet their spiritual master.