Peaks and Valleys of Week Three

When the kids were little we had a family tradition of sharing at dinner time the highs and lows from our day (on occasion we still enact this tradition). Regardless of what sort of day we had (boring, great or horrific) there are always standout moments that could be found that are “higher” or “lower” that the rest. This week my highs and lows feel a bit like the Himalayas (as in drastic) only I’m a “bit” south.

My top highlight was getting myself in to my first ever full backbend/camel, hands and feet on the ground. I’ve been trying to do that for years. The class cheered. (see pic of inside of yoga hall – its quite beautiful with the morning sunrise while we do sun salutations) Outside of that……

I find myself both skipping happily to class, and then dragging myself in such a way that I don’t think I can make the stairs. I whistle one morning, and hang my head under the faucet and hope the day goes away on another. I cried when I finished the novel I brought along and realized I now have no mode of escape, so I have turned to the Beatles and they have pulled me through some of the tougher moments!

I’m sick to DEATH of the ayurvedic medicines I take multiple times throughout the day (see pic – YUCK) and am seriously considering quitting them. One of them is for weight loss and I weigh EXACTLY what I weighed when I arrived! I don’t understand how that is possible when there is no bread, pasta, cheese, ice cream, latte or butter to be found (my primary weaknesses/diet back at home). All we eat is fruit, soups, veggies and a limited amount of rice-made things, and I’ve never physically worked so hard at anything in my life. Seriously! WTF!!!!

Another highlight is the men who serve us our meals and generally take care of us (see pic), Mohan and Chiggon. They do make me smile, and Mohan has taken to calling me Kim Baby. It feels like such a sweet term of endearment and reminds me how we could never use a term like that in the States without feeling “hit on” or somehow offended at a lack of respect-here it just feels loving. They keep me laughing and keep it undercover when I’m feeling my lowest.

Our classes continue to be the source of occasional inspiration and interesting conversation. Suntil, our theory teacher, told us about a 24 hour "peace radio" that is produced by Indian Muslims. This week there was a program specifically on peace within differing cultures and religions, with the Hindu/Muslim relationship being the primary focus. It was said that "religious tolerance" is no longer good enough, it is now time to move into "love and acceptance" instead. The word "tolerance" implies that I will "tolerate" or "put up" with our differences, but that the only real way to have peace is to not "tolerate" one another, but to embrace, love and accept one another. Love that!

One thing I miss here is physical touch. There are no all-night snuggles with Rowan, Sunday dance or friends to snuggle with to fulfill that life-giving requirement. Born out of my desperation for a little physical contact I went to a beauty parlor and asked to have my hair cut just to have someone touch my head and hair. I’m not so sure it was a good choice (no picture included), but it was a fun experience. It was immediately evident that the only thing that made the lady in the shop a hairstylist was the fact that she had scissors. Her name was Privi (?) and insisted on parting my hair down the middle and flattening it to my head as is the popular look for India woman, but I looked ridiculous! When I, instead, wet my hair, turned my head upside down, moved the part to the side and fluffed it as big and curly as it would get all the women in the parlor laughed hysterically. There was little/no English in the room, but there was a definite understanding of woman-speak. They invited me back (I think) for a facial next week, I think I’ll take them up on that.

On another down note, yesterday (Friday) was my hardest day yet. I began the day not feeling my best with overwhelming emotions seeming to come out of nowhere (not to mention feeling pre-menstrual). Ganesh, our yoga teacher, says tears are toxins leaving our body and that I should go cry more.

Our yogic assignment for the morning was a purification kriya called Dhouti or Vamana, which is purification through vomiting! I was near tears and shaking when I arrived at the class, towel in hand as instructed (I really hate vomiting!). Our teacher began by demonstrating for us. It was when he looked up at us, mid-vomit, with eyes red and tearing, mucous and water running from his nose and mouth, and in a strained mid-vomit Indian accent said, “this is very good, it clears mucous from nose and chest, empties body of impurities” that my real panic began. We were then given our own chairs, buckets and pots of warm salt water (for chugging) and required to do the same, all together. Somewhere mid-vomit, while trembling from head to toe and trying not to cry for fear I might hit hysteria, one of my more verbose class mates began to chatter to no one in particular about “feeling complete” with his vomit which inspired me to yell, “SHUT UP!”. (I was proud of myself for leaving out my favorite expletive) I didn't think much about it in the moment, I only realized later it would require an apology. What I didn’t expect was the drama/trauma it would cause. He was, later, quite angry, but that's an entirely different story.

As we exited the class our instructor said, “dhouti also known to cause emotion to leave body, there may be much crying.” This, of course, caused me to burst into tears, I didn’t stop till this morning. After a full day of sobbing, a magical God-filled solo teary-eyed hike to the top of a mountain, an adrenaline rush when cornered, alone, by a pack of dogs and rescued by children and a school bus, a rather uncomfortable “clearing” between my classmate and I, and a good nights sleep (where I dreamed all night of Lisa, Lauren and our menstrual cycles!) things seems to be smoothed out between us, and my tears aren’t quite on the surface like they were. Hopefully no one will try and console me too soon or I’m sure to be in tears again. Is it possible there could be more toxins trying to escape? (Joy, don’t answer that).

PS I don't know why, but today the internet wont let me post photos - I'll try and add them later.

Week Two Yoga Boot Camp

The routine of it all seems to be settling in. The schedule is quite full with my morning medicine delivered to my room at 6:00 a.m. yoga at 6:30, theory class at 7:30, breakfast at 8:30, more theory class at 10:00, more yoga at 12:30, lunch at 1:00, more yoga at 3:00, theory class at 4:30, meditation at 5:30 and dinner at 7:00. By the time dinner is over I collapse into bed to do it again tomorrow. (yoga hall is picture to the left) Our two hour written tests are on Saturdays. I’m becoming a bit more comfortable with the constant dull ache we yoga students seem to be experiencing.

Our “day off” is Sunday, with only one yoga/meditation class at 7:00 a.m. which is usually taught by the students. I taught my first class yesterday!! I loved it. It was a combination yoga/meditation class, and because it was Sunday we meditated on our 3rd Charkra (power), located directly above your navel. I thought to myself, "oh my god, I'm sitting on a mountain top in India facilitating navel contemplation". Sounded a bit like a sit com:) I can think of a few punch lines to THAT one!

The clients here at the retreat center with me come from all over the globe, and we have new people coming and going daily. Some people come here for courses (like me) and others are here as patients for detoxification or rejuvenation programs with the Ayurvedic Doctors. Patients usually attend the yoga and meditation classes with the students, and we all have our meals together, so it's a nice blend. Currently the countries represented here are Russia, South Africa, Canada, Australia, Ireland, UK, Thailand, Pakistan, Greece, Egypt, Italy, two others from the US (Phoenix, Arizona and Monterey, California), and of course India. Ages range from 20 to late 60’s. (We had a mother and her 1 year old baby boy here for 2 days, but they decided not to stay).

While the yoga course is basically what I expected, I am surprised at the amount of Sanskrit we are required to learn. It is the study of this very strange language that leaves me feeling constantly under prepared and nervous about the Saturday tests. The good news is that I seem to have a pretty good understanding of the physical part of our training.

As for the climate, now that the cyclone has passed we seem to be moving into a bit of a pattern that includes warm sunshine in the mornings and afternoon fog and occasional rain. The outcome is beautiful green surroundings, lots and lots of noisy birds and squirrels, and the wonderful smell of earth and warmth. The locals insist this is not normal as the rainy season is over and it should now just be cool.

There is a large house next to our yoga classroom that is having a retaining wall built by hand. There are about 10 men and women (two of which appear to be about 8 months pregnant) digging out the wall and carrying the dirt away in bowls on their heads. They chatter and clank and laugh all day long. It is a most wonderful backdrop of sound as we practice, meditate and attempt to “join with supreme” through the poses, breath and focused concentration. I have never experienced anything quite like this; the peacefulness is profound.

I think I may finally be arriving here in India. While my body touched down on Indian soil last Saturday, this last week has been rather hazy. I landed in Coimbatore at the very beginning of a violent storm caused by a cyclone off the Bay of Bengal (or so I have been unofficially told). The drive from the airport was typically Indian (which is already a lot like “Toads Wild Ride” at Disneyland without the safety requirements) and with the addition of downed trees and mud slides along the way. However, the “real” storm didn’t start until later that night with howling winds and torrential rains that lasted for 4 days. We had had no electricity, sporadic water (cold only) and a deep, penetrating wet that made me feel as though I’d never be dry again. The sun finally peeked out on Thursday and we ventured out of the retreat center toward the town of Conoor, which is about a 15 minute tuk-tuk (auto rickshaw) ride from the retreat center. We were astonished at the damage that the surrounding villages experienced and realized that our retreat center is in a miraculously sheltered little piece of the mountain that kept us from any damage, but the villagers lost homes, and it is said there were between 300-400 deaths. We suddenly stopped complaining about the lack of electricity or internet!




The yoga course is incredible, complex and very detailed. We had our first of 6 written exams today. Each exam is 2 hours long, and while yoga is intended to not be competitive, our grades are basically shared with the whole retreat center and so the silent competition is alive and well!

I am also participating in a six week Ayurvedic detox designed specifically for me. Between the extreme amount of yoga, meditation and spiritual exploration classes and the effects of the detox, I’m a bit wobbly, but glad to be here.

Today started out warm and sunny, so we again ventured into Conoor. This time we wandered into the back alleys of town, and, as is usual in India, attracted groups of children (it sometimes feel a bit like “monkeys on parade” and I’m the lead monkey – I think it's the blonde hair). I love visiting with them, asking their names, answering their questions and taking their pictures and then showing them. One little group of children followed me for awhile visiting, chatting, giggling, and tentatively trying to hold my hand. When I asked where they lived they pointed to a large compound like yard area that had some sort of government signage. They explained that their homes had collapsed in the rain, and they were staying in the yard, they then asked if I would take their picture again. Their interminable joy is contagious।





It started to slightly rain on our way back, and now the rain, cold, winds, lack of electricity and no hot water is back, and I am sitting in my dimly lit room watching the clouds in the trees and listening to the rain on the roof and wearing layers of clothing trying to keep warm. And, although it is officially the beginning of winter here, the locals are saying this is unlike anything they have ever seen, and the measurements of the last storm break all records. I don’t know whats “normal”, but it certainly is nothing like my last visit to India.