Pictures

Sicky sick

Sadness, life kicked me in the ass.  I've been extremely sick for the past couple of days.  I went to the hospital finally yesterday and had some blood and urine tests.  Don't have malaria.  Yay!  But do have a small virus so I'm on antibiotics now.

Will write soon when feel better.

living in the now

Is Mysore the place to get lost and never be found again?

I want to get lost.  So lost that I can't find my way home, so I'll be left a wonderer for the rest of my life.  

So this is my realization tonight.  I need some time off.  Some soul searching and detoxing. If we all live and die, begin and end in the same place.  Then what? What is the here and the now?  What is the here and the now that I'm missing?  Because I'm so focused on tomorrow.  I'm forgetting today.  Actually, I completely forgot to live in today.  Today, I thought about tomorrow all day.  So I've just wasted my today.  And if tomorrow I think about the day after tomorrow, then I'll have also wasted my tomorrow.  

Maybe today I just need to be.  I just need to sit here and feel my sit bones against the bed.  I need to sit and stop my mind from flying.     

"living in the present" thats the first step in yoga my friend said.  We sat on his roof and talked all night. Him and his friend are both Yoga teachers in Rishikesh.  They both traveled here to Mysore hoping to find a teacher of yoga philosophy to teach them something new.  For two weeks now they've visited almost every yoga school and yoga teacher, disappointed each time.  

"Yoga is changing."  He sighed.  "People are too focused on the money.  We are forgetting what the real yoga is."

clean shaven

we stood in a circle and watched as she shaved her head.  Locks of hair fell into the red bucket, strand by strand until it was all gone.  "Are you sure you want me to cut more?"  Anna continuously asked.  "Do you want to see yourself before I start shaving?  Maybe you want to keep some of your hair."  

"No." She replied.  "Just shave it all."   And then slowly, the razor grazed her scalp.  It took over an hour.  The room was softly light with candle light.  The stars were in lined for hair cutting.  She had consulted the universe and tonight was the night.  

I sat in silence for the whole hour.  In awe of her courage and vicariously feeling the sensation of detachment and letting go.  With her eyes closed she lifted her head towards to skies as if waiting for rain to wash over her, cleanse her.  

when it was all over we asked, "how does it feel?" 

"lighter."  She smiled.  "Who needs shampoo?  I've got extra."  

my friend walked over and felt my head.  "You have a good head for shaving."  He laughed.  "You should go next."  

Should I?  Why am I so attached to my hair anyways?  Its been the bane of my existence.  As if my beauty exists within my hair?  Shouldn't my beauty lie somewhere in my heart?  Somewhere in my soul?  I twirl it when I'm flirting with you and dye it to feel anew.  I straighten it before interviews and curl it to go dancing.  But maybe if you saw me for me, I wouldn't need to do any of those things.  Maybe I don't need to do any of those things.  Maybe I don't need my hair to impress you.  

pictures try again

I've been informed that the last attempt at posting pictures did not succeed.  Here is the second attempt.  

Afterlife?

I found a puppy on the street tonight as I was walking to buy coffee.  He was laying in the middle of the street and looked up at me lifting his head in my direction.  So I stopped and bent over to pet him.  I haven't done this much here in India, petting random street dogs.  But for some reason, this one beckoned me.  Upon closer look, I realized that his leg was broken.  He couldn't move and was as thin as a skeleton with his rib cage protruding.  So much poverty in India, so much death, hunger, starvation.  People walk by street dogs unnoticed.  Why feed a dog when there is a person dying just across the street?  

I don't know why but I had to take care of this dog.  So I brought him home.  He died in my arms in the middle of the night.  2:05 am.  My hand laid on his stomach as he took his last breath and felt his last heart beat.  My room stinks of him.  The four hours that my life was graced by his presence has left me with a room full of dog urine and spilled milk.  He couldn't have been more than two years old.  He limped around my room whimpering, searching.  Did he know it was his time?  I carried his body outside and laid it next to a pile of garbage.  I don't know what else to do.  

Ive never felt a living being die in my hands.  is this preparation?  a reminder?  a street dog or a billionaire, there'll come a time when we all take our last breath.  

Hiking in leeches

Coffee plantations and hiking in rain forests.  

We took a bus to coorg early sat morning.  It was moon day so no yoga class. Two consecutive days off, hard to come by and perfect opportunity for a weekend trip.  Coorg is famous for its coffee plantations and two nearby mountains for hiking.  All kinds of wildlife we could encounter, the lonely planet told us.  But leeches were not mentioned.

As we were hiking through beautiful rain forests, my friend suddenly turned around and asked, "of all your traveling, have you ever come across leeches?" 

"God no, gross." I breathed a sign of relief.  My mom had told me horror stories of leeches crawling on her during her communist farming days in China.  Even thinking about it horrifies me, I can't imagine.

Two minutes later I felt something itchy on my ankles and looked down and screamed on the top of my lungs.  There were 4 of them.  Black, slimy, and eating away into my ankles.  

"Don't pull them out." My friend screamed as I yanked them off my ankles.

Too late.  

 

Monsoon yoga

I made it through my first week of yoga.  My body has adjusted to all the twists and turns and i've now increased my practice to twice a day.  

The monsoon came in the middle of class flooding the room and forcing us to move.  The rain pounded on the tile roof as I exhaled into downward dog.  A serenity washes over me.  I am in a state of bliss.  I am exactly where i am suppose to be.  If only I could stay forever in this downward dog breathing to the sound of  raindrops...how will I ever convince myself to go back to prelims and dissertations?  Maybe in another lifetime I was meant to be a yoga teacher on the beaches of Thailand.

Something about coming to my mat.  It pushes all else away.  My mind no longer wonders or worries, I am present as I inhale into and exhale out of each posture.  

"And inside of you, there is a peace and refuge, to which you can go at every hour of the day and be at home at yourself."

I met a Taiwanese woman today studying yoga.  She's in her 50s and traveled all the way to India on her own speaking very few words of English.  

"I often think about how I would want to die...I would pick some remote place where nobody would ever find my body, and from which I could enjoy an especially beautiful view.  I'd lie down facing that view and take my morphine.  That would be the best way to die...with the last sight I see being a view of Montana as I want to remember it."

"Why be elated by material profit?  The one who pursues a goal of evenmindedness is neither jubilant with gain nor depressed by loss.  He knows that man arrives penniless in this world and departs without a single rupee."

Maybe if we spent more time thinking about death, we'd know how to live.  

   

Mysore yoga

"You only practice until the end of the standing postures since this is your first class."  What? i thought.  my prideful ego was shocked that he didnt think i could finish the whole primary series.  I'm more flexible than most of the people in class, why would he tell me to only do half of the asanas. Ive been practicing yoga for 5 years i screamed on the inside.  Maybe if he saw my dancers pose...or my back bend... Angry and bitter, i stopped when he told me to, rolled up my mat and walked out.  maybe i should find another teacher.  

i woke up in the middle of the night from sore muscles.  My whole body hurts this morning.  Muscles in my back that I didn't know existed are aching, screaming for salvation.  Maybe if I stretch a little ill feel better.  I rolled out my mat and could barely even jump back for the first sun salutation.  Damn it, he was right.  

"In Ashtanga yoga it's really important to practice with a teacher who you can really trust because of all the adjustments."

Just as I stabilized myself in the twisted side angle pose, he can and adjusted me.  Now 75 percent of my body weight is resting on his one thin Indian leg.  Can this thin little man really hold me up?  I'm going to tumble over and we will both fall the the floor!  I grounded my left leg down and refused to twist further.  

"It's really important to practice with a teacher who you can really trust."  

Do I trust him?  I guess it's either trust or switch teachers.  I took a deep breath in and surrender.  My face lifted towards the heavenly skies.  

"Good morning." My landlord greeted me this morning.  "Are you using the kitchen ok? And cooking."

"Yes. Yes." 

"Ah good. I can see, you are looking fat."

What?! Did he just really tell me I'm fat?  Damn it.  The Indian diet is not working well for my figure!  

Yoga

I m writing about you in my blog, I told my yoga teacher.

"Good. Ill be popular now." He laughed.

My bus arrived 2 hours early! Unheard of in India.  I had planned my trip to give myself an extra hour in case of delays.  So that I would be on time to catch my flight.  Now I have three hours to spare and it's 3:00 o clock in the morning.  I'm outside the gates of the Delhi metro which doesn't open until 6:00 am.  Yet there is already a line of people waiting outside.  Do I try to find a hotel for 3 hours? Are there any cafes open at this time? Or do I just surrender to my fate and join this group of people sleeping outside the metro gates?

It's mostly men but its dark enough that no one will really be able to see me.

So I found a street corner, sat my backpack down and checked my clock again.  3:08.  I can do this.  Less than 3 hours.  So this is what it feels like to sleep on the streets of India, not so bad.  I closed my eyes and allowed myself to doze off.  The bright lights of the rickshaws woke me up.  More men are approaching.  Maybe I should move.  As if to tell me not to worry, a group of 2 women and a baby came and sat down next to me.  Protection.  I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fall back asleep.  

Thank god for darkness.  I can't see what I could be sitting on or next to.  The baby pees on the ground inches from me.  I'm so tired It doesn't even bother me.

30 min nap.  It's now 5:00 o clock.  Almost there.  I'm not surrounded by morning commuters.  

He sat down next to me and pulled out a smart phone.

"Do you speak English?"

"Huh?"

"English, do you speak English?"

"Huh?"

"YOU TALK ENGLISH?"

"Yes."

He invited me for chai, "it helps wake up the spirit."  And we sat and talked to pass the time.  When the doors finally opened, a mad rush of people poured through.  "We wait ten minutes then go." He directed me.  Who knew the metro would be so crowded this early in the morning.  If not for his help, this would have been impossible and i surely would have gotten lost.  When we got on the train, he took me to sit in the women's cart and he went to the next cart over and when I got off at my stop, he was already gone.  The kindness of strangers.

"I hope you enjoy your stay in India. I want people who come to visit my country to have a good experience."  We met a couple at a temple in mysore.  

I have left the heat of northern India to embrace the cooler air of southern India.  

"It's good that you went to Delhi first.  Now you have an appreciation for mysore." My friend said as we walked down the streets of mysore.

A fellow San Franciscan, i met Alex while we were being hosted by the same couch surfer in Bangalore.  As he is also traveling south, to a city called ooty to volunteer to spay and neuter cats for a week, we decided to accompany each other.   its always better to travel with a friend.  

It's a full moon today.  The city of mysore has banded the sale if meat.

In Bangalore we ate beef at a Christian restaurant. I felt like I was sinning as I chewed on the piece of old, jerky like meat with a picture of Jesus staring down at me.  "You can find beef everywhere actually but it's all really old cows about to die anyways so the meat is not really good."  My couchsurfing host informed us.  Raised in Dubai and the United States, him and his friends can be considered of the  extremely liberal and western population of Indians.  "Really, there is no where in the Hindu religion that forbids the eating of cows." He says as he hands me a joint.  

We arrived at my yoga school after a 3 hour bus ride that took 6 hours.  It's a new building in a wealthy part of town.  We were taken immediately to my place of residence for the next 2 month.  $130 for rent.  The place doesn't look like much on the outside, old runned down building with paint pieces chipping off.  But it's surprisingly sufficient on the inside.  No running shower. Gas stove.  One pot and a couple of plates.  

We walked around outside looking for food only to come across a Bollywood dance studio just around the corner from my house!  Yoga on the right and Bollywood dancing on the left, everything I could possibly want in life.  A group of teenagers breaking out in a pool of sweat to funky hip hop ballywood steps.  I am home.

Alex stayed with me for 2 days in my new home. Having a friend helped me acclimate to this new place. Going through a dramatic break up with his now ex boyfriend, I think I also helped take him mind off things.  It's beautiful how the universe helps bring random strangers together.

The day he left the monsoon came.  The downpour suddenly covered the city flooding every street corner.  I'm stranded, taking shelter inside a men's barber shop.  "Maybe I'll get a haircut while I wait." He looked at me and laughed.

It's beautiful, magical almost.  A melancholy calm.  The streets are empty except for the occasional stragglers.  This city could use a good washing. 

pictures end of delhi and mysore

It is over one hundred degrees.  I broke out in a pool of sweat just
from putting on my pants.  I cannot take this heat anymore, it’s
taking away every inch of my patience.  I’m now sitting at an internet
café, where the internet is down, just to escape the heat, because
there is AC.

I’ve been sick for the past two days. Living off of water and bananas
and lots and lots of sleep.  Lost track of when day turned into night.
 Finally was brave enough to have my first real meal today. Went to a
restaurant and was served delicious Indian lentils.

You are very kind sir, but please don’t stand there and watch me eat.
I’ve been in this country for less than two weeks and my western
narrow-mindedness and self righteousness is already creeping in.
“Where you from?”  He asked as he handed me my food.

I’m sorry but I don’t want to make small talk with your broken English
when this is my first meal in three days.   Just let me eat in peace.

And please stop honking your horn every 2 seconds.  It is absolutely
unnecessary!  I see you, but there is no place for me to go, so just
WAIT for Christ sake!

Inhale. Exhale.  Tune into your inner Yogi Alice.  You could be in
beautiful San Diego right now, surfing in the ocean with dolphins,
driving your big SUV, drinking cold beers on the beach.  Where the
weather is perfect, not too hot and not too cold.  You asked for this.
 You picked India instead.

“What is Yoga? It is when you are fully present in your actions and
everything is done with pure intentions.”  I had my first yoga class.
Inhale. Exhale.  “Let your breath cleanse you.”

“Yoga is not about the postures.  It is not how far you can bend
backwards or how long you can hold a head stance.  Yoga is in your
everyday action.  When you give your all, your full awareness and
intension in everything you do.”  My first yoga teacher came to me
unexpectedly.

“Like a child, do things with no expectations.  We humans train our
children to expect things when we reward them.  We give them candy or
money for doing something good.  Then they begin to expect.”  Is that
what we do with education?  We give As, Bs, Cs etc.  How can we
measure learning?  How can we measure knowledge?

Open yourself up to receive all this country has to offer Alice.
Don’t demand or expect anything from her.  She will have nothing to
offer you if you’ve already decided what it is you want from her.

pictures

the ganges river and I

I got my first mosquito bit.  Damn, they found me. 

I'm sitting in front of the Ganges in a place in India known by the Indians as the most sacret site.  Where the energy here is...different...holy... I'm waiting to feel this energy.

We woke up at 4 in the morning yesterday to begin our trip.  Drove for 8 hours (a combination of horrible Indian traffic and getting lost) to our camp site.  We are at the very Northern tip of the Ganges river.  Where the water is still clean enough to swim in...even to drink.  But I dared not drink it.  We hiked to a waterfall and bathed in the holy water.  Heal my soul Ganga.  "You can only feel it if you are really quiet."  My Indian friend told me.

I'm getting old...we went cliff diving and I was scared to death to jump.  "Its only water after all.  I'll catch you when you fall."  It whispered.  The freezing cold water took my breath away.  My body dropped into her like a pebble in a pond. 

I met an Indian yesterday.  Born and raised in Delhi. He spoke Hindi with his family.  But could not read or write Hindi.  "But I know English and that is the important language."  He proclaimed with pride.  "Many Indian parents will speak English to their children because they want them to learn English.  It is more useful, more necessary." 

"But do you ever feel like you are missing part of your culture?"

"No."

Is my job as an English language educator perpetuating this cultural amalgamation?  Cultural elimination?

How much wealth does one need?  How much novocaine does it take to turn a blind eye to starvation?  5000 rupees for Brunch at the Hyatt.  50 rupees for lunch.  "How do you come to terms with all the poverty here?  With the huge wealth disperity?" 

"It's just how it is.  This is how it is." 

New Delhi

I have arrived.  And slept for a good 20 hours after arriving.  Maybe the combination of jet lag, making up for not sleeping the past year and the heat.  Yes, it is hot.  I took a non ac taxi from the airport to my host's house and was sweating like I was in an intense bikram yoga class.  I could feel the sweat drops rolling down my skin from just sitting in the cab, how am I going to survive 8 hours a day of actual yoga classes in heat like this?  I take pride in being a world traveler, but when I opened the taxi windows hoping to get some air only to be smacked in the face with a gust of hot air and dust that literally took my breathe away, I knew I was in trouble.  My biggest fear when traveling is always the Mosquitos. They seem to find me anywhere and everywhere. So having packed 3 bottles of insect repellent, one of the first things I asked my host was if there are lots of Mosquitos around. "No so much this time of the year, it's too hot for them." She replied. 

Some pictures from me first day in Delhi. We went to a Hindi temple where there was a huge picture of jesus in their gift shop, followed by a Buddhist temple that taught the technique of vipassana which could "give immediate" results, followed by a Catholic Church that was "under CCTV surveillance" and finally a shikk temple where Marie got scolded for siting improperly.