My Mysore Odyssey

Last Post...

2006-07-14T09:06:00.000-07:00

I left Mysore yesterday, taking a 1:50 am flight out of Bangalore, through Frankfurt and then home to Miami. For those of you who have read my blog and would like to send me a message offline asking any questions about Mysore or telling me about yourself, I have set up an email: lithe_one@yahoo.com. I am considering returning to Mysore when I am not injured - perhaps in early 2007. At that time I may resume the blog. In addition to hearing from readers in general, I would also love to hear from anyone who may be practicing in Mysore at the same time.

This trip verified that I am good at the surrender part of yoga. I am bendable and squishable but somewhat deficient in upward-moving energy. A few days ago Ken the Rolfer described the challenge for me in yoga as, "trying to make a sculture of a person with clay that is too wet." He said this while wearing dark orange pants. My friend Ing from home (who has a psychic gift) told me I would meet some man with orange Indian pants. Men wearing orange Indian pants are not common. In my blog entry titled, "Two Days Till India" I wrote that I had a dream in which: "I am on an island with many large fantastic sculptures of subjects like Atlas holding up the world. They look like they are made of sand.... but I touch one and it is mud. How are they held together?" So, I will remember Ken's observation as the koan that I can take away from this trip: How do I hold up the world when I am made of clay that is too wet?

Guruji's Birthday

2006-07-13T20:22:00.000-07:00

The date of Guruji's birthday changes from year to year because it is held on a full moon. The first couple hours they had a pooja while students and family watched. The pooja was several men in a circle chanting and throwing ghee into a fire. An Indian woman next to me said that they were thanking for long life and so forth. Guruji sat in the background. If I had not know, I would have thought that it was a celebration of Sharath's wedding anniversary because he and his immediate family were the center of the event. He sat behind and watched. Sharath's daughter led a group of children in running around. After the pooja, the students were fed in shifts in the basement. This meant waiting in line for almost two hours. I left the line three times to do three errands. I was slightly sick from the food - as were a few others I have heard of. So, it was interesting to see the pooja, but I feel I have now been and will not feel I need to go to another.

Doing the Necessary

2006-07-09T23:48:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, while driving along on my motor bike, my back wheel slipped on something and while trying to compensate I squeezed the left brake and (mistakenly) the right throttle at the same time - running into a wall, which, as an aside, had a large swasticka on it. Fortunately the monkey bars on the front of my motor bike hit the wall and bent inward taking the first force, I then went over and my knee, and ankle hit the wall. My hands were still gripping the handle bars which jammed back with the impact into the fleshy part between the thumb and the index finger. After sitting a while and speaking with several people - two of whom insulted my driving as I sat on the ground stunned and two of whom helped me to stand up and see if I could walk etc. I determined that I had not broken anything. My right brake was jammed and my clutch did not work. I went home very slowly - stopping at the southern star to rest for a while and then again at Coffee Day. On the way I ran out of petrol - but had some petrol in the reserve tank. My bike has no petrol gage - this adds to the excitement of having a motor bike I guess. This morning Saraswati had me try to do some practice. I did two sun salutations and then went to finishing. My wrists feel like they will be more damaged by down dog and chaturunga. I am however very lucky because I do not think that any of this will be a chronic problem if I am careful now. It seems that my first trip to Mysore was not to be about the physical practice. I can use my fingers but grabbing things hurts. My opposable thumbs aren't very opposable. Fortunately the right is better than the left and I am right handed. If injuries are an anology of an unaddressed concern, then perhaps I cannot grasp something important or I cannot hold on to something important... or both.

I have to admit to feeling rather sad, lonely and disappointed amoung other things. Since Ken the Rolfer wants me to notice the feelings that I am having I guess this is good because I can come up with a nice list of adverbs for him. But, in the spirit of finding the best in the situtation, I will move on to another somewhat related but happier subject. The price of medical care in the India is substantially lower than in the United States. Because I am self-employed, my insurance requires that I pay for the first $3000 USD of medical care each year. This means a yearly check-up, routine dental care, eye exams, pap tests, mammograms in a year are my responsibility. I have to admit that I have not kept up with this at all at the rate that the American Medical Association recommends. While here I have had an eye exam and gotten glasses, a year's supply of disposable contacts and prescription sun glasses together for less than it cost to buy one pair of glasses in the U.S. I have gotten my teeth cleaned for approximately $7 - by a dentist using sterile instruments. I had a mammogram and was given the films for $12. The picture above is the waiting room at Bharath Hospital where I got the mammogram. The Dermatologist who examined my skin for $3, gave me a prescription for a cream that costs $100 in the US. It cost $5 here. He also gave me a prescription to go to the local blood drawing lab and have a pap test. On the requisition form he circled pap test and then wrote at the bottom, "Dear Ravi, Please do the necessary - Dr. S.S." So I went around to the lab to see if I wanted Ravi to do the necessary on me and decided that I would prefer to go to Appollo hospital and have the nice woman Gynecologist do it instead. However, while at the lab I had a blood test (checking to make sure that the needles came from sealed packages and sterilizing my own arm with purell). This test checked my thyroid and cholesterol levels - with both I have hereditary issues that I am working on controlling through diet and yoga. These tests cost less than $10. Now I don't have to see a doctor for years! (unless I have another accident...).

Guruji Product Placement....

2006-07-07T01:46:00.000-07:00

At the end of Guruji's last conference, two men and a woman in a saree came up to the front where Guruji sits and presented him with flowers and some incense. They were from a Mysore incense company. Then, one of the men knelt to touch Guruji's feet (a sign of respect in India done to an elder such as a wise man or a grandparent). The other man took a picture...

This was fine. Although there are signs in the Shala that say no photographs, photographs with Guruji are allowed on days when there is conference. But then the man touching Guruji's feet adjusted the incense that he was holding so that the name of the incense was showing and facing the camera and then raised his eyebrow at the other man who took a couple more pictures. Because the man turned the incense label towards the camera, neither Guruji nor Sharath saw this product placement; however, two other students sitting with me in the front exchanged a look. The picture shows approximately what it looked like except that the name of the incense has been changed and the hands were not coming out of a dark hole in the floor.

"A three hour tour..."

2006-07-05T22:46:00.000-07:00

When CK and I went to the jungle 75km south of Mysore, I experienced what "full throttle" and "white-knuckled" mean. My motor bike is considerably less powerful than her Honda Activa. Downhill top speed is 70 km per hour for my bike. Well, after a couple hours clutching in full throttle my knuckles had burst blood vessels making my knuckles red on my throttle hand.... so I decided to see a doctor about it.

As an aside, at breakfast a week ago a smoldering Brazilian Ashtanga yogi with a mysterious past listened to the reason why my knuckles were red and then told me that I must relax on the bike and that he would take me out and show me how if I needed it. This morning he came over to my table and told me that he saw me on my bike and I am now relaxed and drive "beautifully" : - )

Anyway, the dermatologist in Mysore told me that I had to have a laser cauterization and that kind of laser can only be found in Bangalore. He recommended Manipol Hospital Dermatology clinic. So, I took an early bus out of Mysore to Bangalore. When I asked at the ticket counter the man said it would be a three hour trip.

When I got on the bus a 16 year old girl in the first row patted the seat and immediately said to me, "Sit here, sit with me." I thanked her and sat down and we exchanged names and so forth and she told me about her family and she was very sweet. Her name was something like Kalia and she was going to Bangalore to see her Orthodontist. Then, about 15 minutes later, as the bus was about to start, the ticket-taker man who had been standing around in the aisle doing nothing as all the seats filled, barked at her, "that is my seat - you stand." Then, they argued in Kannada and she leaned over me and yelled out the window, "PAPA!" At which point an older man who had been standing around outside looking worried came in the door and he and the ticket taker guy yelled at each other and then some money was exchanged and the bus went on its way and she remained in her seat. Perhaps some enterprising man here could start a rent-a-papa business!

Now, after we had started and were just at the point outside Mysore where you are, in fact, in the middle of no where, the driver and the ticket-taker (who was now sitting on the engine next to the driver) started talking. Kalia translated that they were discussing that the office had told them (before they left) that there was a farmer's demonstration on the main road to Bangalore - so they would have to take a detour. They had not bothered to announce before we left that this would make the three hour trip a five hour trip so that customers could, for example, decide if they wanted to go another day. But, I reflected, if they had done that the bus would have been less full and they would have made less money. I looked out the window at field after field. The only person in sight was a man wearing only a loin cloth and a turban - dark and wrinkled from working outside - holding a stick and squatting next to 10 black goats and one cow. Both he and the cow were gazing into the distance. Asking the driver to stop the bus so I could get out was not an option. I was going to Bangalore.

So, we took the "detour." This was a dirt road through a network of small villages with the villagers standing by the side looking stunned that they suddenly had a traffic jam of trucks and buses in their town. After about three hours of this we had not yet reached Kannapura (I think that was the name) when two police cars blocked the road ahead. Leaning against the cars were two police men - striking manly poses - but in a distinctly bollywood style. To strike a manly bollywood pose, stand and thrust your hips forward while at the same time currling your shoulders forword and flex your chest and stomach musles. Each officer had a rifle. We stopped.

ALL the men got off the bus. ALL the women stayed on the bus, their hands folded daintily in their laps looking unfocused at a distant point on the horizon. Their faces showed that character that can only be earned by knowing you are not allowed to urinate in front of the opposite sex, understanding that this is one of the burdens of this life, and accepting it with grace and patience. Meanwhile, the men - who were not taxed with this spiritual duty - were all urinating. Not behind a tree - but in the gutter. After it seemed that all of that had ended (I was not watching too closely) I waited for the bus driver to come tell the women waiting on the bus what was wrong. This did not happen.

I decided to get up - and stretch my legs. On the road, the crowd of relieved men were now getting water from a nice lady at a well. There were three buses stopped. I was the only woman who got off a bus. The police had picked a place to block the road that had no phone, no food, and no place for a woman to hide and relieve herself. I went over to a man with glasses and western clothes and asked, "Why not going?" He did not understand me. "Why stop?" I repeated this a few times with different men with no luck. The village lady at the well beckoned me and kindly mimicked drinking. Of course, one pees before one drinks so that I was not going to drink and also one drinks when one knows that one will be able to pee in the future. I said no and thank you in Kannada.

Off to the side - looking out of place were six tibetan monks in long dark red habits squatting on a low wall. I tried asking one of them but also no English. Finally a young man with thick glasses walked past me. The front of his shirt said, "100% geek" and the back said, "2oo% Linux." This man answered my question saying that this road also was blocked by the farmers demonstration and we would be stopped an hour. I asked him how he could be so precise - might we be there longer and he assured me that no, the demonstration is precisely timed otherwise the demonstrators go to prison. So, I asked, this was all known in advance? "Oh yes", he said pleasantly, wiggling his head back and forth Indian style. "It is all arranged days in advance with the police."

By the time we reached Kannapura, 5 hours had passed. To be clear, the driver had relieved himself and had had water at the police stop - so - without consulting anyone or making any announcement because he was in charge after all - he determined that there was no reason to stop. And, in fact, he began driving out of Kannapura as though he did have to relieve himself and the only place was in Bangalore... or perhaps that is just how his driving appeared to me from my point of view. On a two-way, dirt road, he was passing trucks and other buses while going around turns, leaning on the horn and forcing oncoming traffic off the road. Finally, as he was trying to pass a bus, in the opposite direction the on-coming traffic was also a bus. At the same second both drivers realized that the other was not giving way and they slammed on the breaks - stopping facing each other about 5 feet apart. The truck behind us went off the road to the left where - fortunately - there was no drop off and the truck behind him came, screeching to a halt at an angle.

Once again I looked out the window to consider if I had other options than going to Bangalore. Perhaps another day would be better? There was a large field with an old woman in an ancient saree whose color was no longer clear. She had a reed and was hitting a water buffaloe's back side gently. The buffalo moved forward one step and stopped. Off to the other side two younger women with clay pots on their heads stood staring with their mouths open at the buses and trucks stopped all at angles in and off the road. I could see no structure in any direction... not even a reed hut. Then after a 10 second pause - all of the buses and trucks involved started up and began beeping continuously and vying to be on the road and in front of someone else.

We arrived in Bangalore and six hours had passed. The driver and the ticket taker were talking again. Kalia translated that they did not know how to get to the bus station because they don't normally come into Bangalore by the Kannapura road. At the next traffic light I looked out the window and saw a passenger-less rickshaw. The driver and my eyes met. I, personally, opened the door of the bus and got off. The rickshaw ride to Manipol hospital took an hour. The doctor took one look at my knuckles and said, "Oh you need a [something something] pulse laser. It works on very fair skin. We do not have that in Bangalore yet."

My Hog and Remaining Equanimous

2006-07-05T09:11:00.000-07:00

Mysore has a motor bike culture. In Gokulam, in the Shala community, the men have motor
cycles and the women (who have them) have motor scooters. To the left is a typical man's bike - and below is my feminine "scooty". Like a girl's bicycle, the scooter allows one to ride in a dress (or saree) with one's legs demurely closed in front while the motorcycle puts an engine between a man's legs. A few days ago a girlfriend and I watched an Englishman Ashtangi ride away on a scooter and we both agreed that he must be very secure to be riding a 'girl's bike.'

Mysore ladies wearing sarees sit on the back of their husband's bike side-saddle with their hands folded in their laps. The man and woman do not touch. Still, this is considered very intimate and you do not go on the back of a man's bike unless he is your husband, father or brother - lest you become dishonored. A western woman is different. I conveniently don't have this type of honor.

For me, driving a motor bike on the opposite side of the road than I am use to, in a city that makes New York traffic seem orderly - has gone outside my comfort zone. But the sprained ankle made it necessary. Now, as a result of the sprained ankle, I can drive around the round-abouts, beeping, weaving and... remaining equanimous.

On a 3 hour bus ride back from Bangalore last night I was asleep sitting next to the window when I awoke - eyes still shut - and realized that the man to my right was feeling my breast.

Now - as background - I have to mention that a few weeks ago there was a poll taken by one of the weekly magazines here that found that a majority of Indians feel that a just punishment for a man raping a woman is for him to be forced to marry her. This is because she has been dishonored - as has her family and there is nothing worse than dishonor (even being married to a rapist). Also, I did a blog entry called Men Staring a while back and Anonymous was nice enough to comment with a link to a site about "eve teasing". While looking into eve teasing I read the advice that if you are with women you can make a scene - but if there are only men around you cannot be sure of the reaction if you humiliate the man.

So, I weighed, do I open my eyes, slap him and make a scene at 10:00 at night on a bus with almost all men in a culture I do not understand and in which I am an outsider? As I considered my next move with my eyes still shut, he was trying to put his hand inside my bra. When I was asleep he must have picked up my shawl that was crossed in front of me, gone under the Kamzee top and now was moving his hand very carefully into my bra still trying not to wake me up. I decided not to pick this battle and turned "in my sleep" so that I was facing the window (away from him) and put my hands under my cheek as a cushion, and, conveniently, this meant that my right arm was across my breasts.

Because of the distorted definition of honor that makes a man's behavior towards a woman the woman's responsibility not the man's, rape is rarely reported here. However, just because I did not feel safe making a scene does not mean I have to be silent now. Also, as a warning, if you make a comment telling me what I "should have done" I will delete it. He is the one who should not have done something. I was asleep. And I remained equanimous; he does not deserve more and I do not deserve less.

Guruji Conference notes....

2006-07-02T08:00:00.000-07:00

The last Guruji conference was a month ago. Before I go on... I should make a disclaimer that Guruji's answers were in English that was often abbreviated and hard for me to understand. I perhaps thought he said something when he said something different. So, this report is somewhat subjective... and subject to all sorts of errors and misinterpretations to the point where perhaps it should not even be written.

Conference began with a silence while Guruji waited for questions. Unlike last time, no one asked any questions. So, Guruji spoke for about 10 minutes. He began by saying that Asana was the third limb and that the yamas and the niyamas were the first two limbs. He said that "you must take practice" and then the yamas and niyamas coming. Then he recited the yamas and niyamas, stopping to define ahimsa as 'not troubling others.'

When taking practice and the mind thinks of all sorts of things, "Mind elsewhere. This is very bad." This is the "chita vritti" of the second sutra "yogash chita vritti nirodha." In Ashtanga there is the pranayama of a 10 second inhale and a 10 second exhale. As asana shapes and controls the body, the pranayama "breaks, controls, and shapes the mind." "Breathing control means mind control; this is real."

He talked a little about there being 22,000 asanas and 22,000 nadis... "everything 22,000." The spine must be straight for the inside to be straight and breathing right. You cannot bend your spine forward and breath right. He demonstrated slumping and sitting up. He then talked about the nadis - especially an area 4" down from the navel and one on the crown of the head.

He talked about when sick after a few days going back and taking practice to heal. Finally he talked about doing pranayama separately from the ujayii breathing in the practice. This should not be done while one is working on the primary series or even the second. "When asana perfect; then pranayama."

Supta Kurmasana and Rolfing Insights...

2006-06-29T22:38:00.000-07:00

I can get into supta kurmasana - but if I want to bind hands and have the feet crossed behind the head someone always helps me. Dr. Disco was showing me her supta kurmasana pointers - which were helpful but I still was putting my left leg behind my head while sitting up and then rolling around trying to get the right foot behind. My knees are on the floor in baddha konasana - so it is not a hip-opening issue. I can get into yoga nidrasana alone - which is the same asana flipped. I was looking for the reason for the problem because understanding the issue is the key to the problem.

Ken the rolfer asked me - out of the blue - how my supta kurmasana was. I told him and he said that I have a slight side-to-side spine curvature. Apparently my tailbone curves to the left - which is news to me. So when I go into supta kurmasana (left leg first as per the ashtanga orthodoxy) both my natural curve and the curve of the pose is very to the left. Then, while balancing on my left-leaning tailbone (so gravity is sealing the left-turning) I try to get my right leg behind my head. The reason others can put me into it is because my right hip is open and I am on the floor - not on my tailbone - when they adjust me. He suggested that I try doing supta kurmasana right leg first (not during practice of course) to counteract this.

So at home I tried going into yoganidrasana right leg first by taking my right gluteus maximus in my right hand and pulling the cocix firmly to the right - rather indelicate but effective. Suddenly getting into yoganidrasana is easier and I could feel the whole issue in my body and recognize that, for example, I would rather throw my left leg than my right over a motor scooter seat - because I feel that I prefer a left side bend. This new understanding does not solve the problem of balancing on a sitbone that is curved in the wrong direction to get into supta kurmasana. Perhaps I will have to get into supta kurmasana while still on the floor in kurmasana, reaching around and adjusting myself indelicately. If you are reading this and have any helpful thoughts, please comment...

I asked Ken if I should try to change the curvature of my spine and he said, "well, it is not terribly important... it shouldn't be the focus of your life... you should be happy that you are doing second series poses and have done ashtanga for as long as you have with no chronic injuries." So, apparently this is not something that will affect my health in some important way. He also told me, "I think you have the loosest feet I have ever worked on" and, "You have toes that most yogis would die for." I probably blushed. Perhaps I need to show my feet off more in social situations and wiggle my toes ...

Dirge

2006-06-29T07:40:00.000-07:00

To get to one of the Internet Cafes here, you can take the road just past the hospital, pass the graveyard and continue through a neighborhood up a hill to Gokulam Road. Today the street outside the graveyard had many bicycles and motor bikes and many of the graves had groups of men or families sitting on them and people were milling around in the street - men with men - and women with women. Since the people were all over the graveyard I thought perhaps it was some sort of memorial for the dead rather than a specific person's funeral. The street itself had many women walking towards me talking to each other - some were wearing their good saree - some may not have a good saree. None of them looked sad or bereaved which added to my feeling that it was not a funeral.

I started up the hill with the houses on both sides of the narrow street and about 2 blocks up the people walking towards me thinned out and up ahead about 300 meters the entire street was filled from one house to the other with men coming towards me, several of them in the front were playing drums. Funeral. I parked my motor bike next to a house and tried to disappear by standing in the doorway. When they went by the men all stared at me - an angry stare - even the men banging drums. What did they want? I had gotten out of the street before they arrived, was not on my bike, respectfully still and solemn, modestly wearing a long skirt, long sleeves, a scarf and a hat, waiting for them to pass.

Behind the drummers were a mob of men carrying a bier covered with flowers. Sitting on the bier was a man in his sixties, sitting cross legged, his legs visible from the knees down, white and yellow silk draped across his chest, head hanging loose to the side, hands swaying off the bier and it ran through me with a shiver - dead but propped up - and not yet in rigor mortus. The men carrying his bier also did not look bereaved but angry and the bier and the departed were being jostled such that I knew he must have been tied on under his clothes or he would have fallen off in from of me.

Once the men passed, women came - all together with no men and talking to each other. In all over a thousand people were at the graveyard and in this procession. After they had all passed, I got on my motor bike and drove away.

Later a local man told me that after the procession passed me they had gone past the graveyard and up to the hospital and made a lot of noise and got into a brawl with some people at the hospital because they believed that the hospital's poor care was responsible for the man's death. During this, he said, the body was left to fend for itself. Then the crowd went back to the graveyard.

Safari chic and books

2006-06-28T06:58:00.000-07:00

In the morning, before we left the jungle south of Mysore, we took the boat ride to an island and our guides showed us the temple ruins from 1200 AD. Since the temple was a ruin - and long since not in use - we could take pictures. In addition to carvings of deities, there were carvings of animals... for example a parrot (at left).

Below CK is modeling yoga student safari wear. Madame is wearing (in order from feet up) hiking sandals, a sawar kameez, tarpaulin jacket (from tarpaulin store), and a life jacket. Fetching yet modest. Unfortunately her head is veiled to protect her blogging modesty - or you would get to see how the neem shampoo got her head super clean and (according to the label) free of germs and accumulated dirt.

I have been reading Shantaram - since it would seem to be the novel to read in India right now. At first it was fun but... homing in on page 900... it is now just a grim yearning for completion that pushes me on. It contains one too many fights, romanticizes things like the slums and crime lords and has cliche love scenes that are hard not to giggle through. CK has an interesting blog entry with thoughts on things to read on a yoga trip to Mysore. It is called: "The Reading Life."

"...jangal-ika yamane..."

2006-06-26T07:33:00.000-07:00

"Jungle" is (appropriately) an ancient Sanskrit word. About 75 km Southeast of Mysore there are national parks with animal sanctuaries, jungle, and tribal peoples. CK and I had been discussing going and the feasibility of getting a car. If you take a car, you have to put the driver up for the time you are there - which seems amazingly quaint (it is less than two hours from Mysore).

We had thought about taking our scooters but wondered about the roads. An Irishman-yogi went last week and told me that the drive on his motorcycle had been beautiful and the best part of the trip. [He also told me that his bike was charged by a 'tusker' (male elephant) when the Irishman was trying to take pictures and his bike seat ended up gored...] I decided to tell the first part of the Irishman's story to CK and when Saturday and moon day were back to back this past weekend we went! Our destination was Water Woods (waterwoods.net) which has a special for yoga students in which a shared twin room is rs 3500 per person per night and includes 3 meals, a jeep safari in the jungle and a boat safari to an island with temple ruins from 1200 AD.

The way to the lodge went from the noise and smell of Mysore to silence, clean air and timeless views of shepherds with goats and farmers tilling with yoked ox (or whatever bovine they are). We stopped twice; once to get petrol, and once to get something to drink. Both times we drew a crowd of men and children (the women must be working). We got the distinct impression that western women on scooters in their villages were not that common. We were like TV. The top speed of my scooter is 50 km - downhill slightly higher. This trip gave me an understanding of the phrase "full throttle." I tested the machine's limits. I am now calling it "my hog." This map shows the Kabini River Lodge in relation to Mysore - that lodge is within 500 meters of Water Woods.

Water Woods Lodge was very nice. We had a view of the Kabini River from our bay window. And we had the lodge to ourselves so they wanted to know when we wanted lunch. At around 5 pm, we went out in the jeep and saw deer, monkeys, Guar (wild jungle cattle!) and - the big treat - elephant cows with a calf that crossed the road in front of our jeep.

The photo on the left shows the two females protecting the calf between them while considering crossing the road. Note: I waited until we were on the safari seeing elephants to tell CK about the Irishman's tustle with the tusker. The guides seem to have a special awe for tuskers. We saw one go swimming in the late day heat.

Guruji-wood

2006-06-25T23:18:00.000-07:00

This morning was a 5 am led primary because yesterday was a moon day (and Sundays are when we have a 5 am led primary in Mysore. Those who have been split-to-second come at 6:15 for led second series. I was at the back of the pack going in and ended up in the marble vestibule (entry-way) with three other students. At around the end of sun salutations five people people came into the vestibule. They had lights, equipment, a huge professional movie camera, a bunch of bags and clipboards. Mind you, I was focused on my practice... it is just that there was really not enough room not to notice. And they were talking quitely (despite signs saying not to). They put up several disclaimers on the wall at around virabadrasana time. These I later read were from a production company saying that were you to come into the shala, you were agreeing to allow your image to be in an upcoming documentary.

But... the primary series was not their target. When we were done and the second series students came in the crew set up in earnest. I went home and took a nap.

On a more personal note, Sharath came into the vestibule at garbapindasana and told me to try it. Unfortunately my ankle is still swollen from the sprain - a month later so I could not do it because it was an obvious 'Don't-Do-That!' pain when I went into half lotus on the right side. I have re-injured the ankle a couple times... it is fragile now and turns easily.

Talk with Landlady...

2006-06-25T05:21:00.000-07:00

I spoke to my landlady about her coming into my apartment daily without knocking. It took about a half hour with a lot of my saying, "do you understand?" and her saying "no." Finally she told me that she understood. The next day she told me that she would only come in once a week but that she had to do that because she had to check the maid's work because she is paying the maid. [As I said in a previous post - next time no maid.] She told me that if I were home and I did not want her to disturb me, I should bolt the door as well as lock it so that she is unable to come in. Ok. Fine. I have gotten that this is a culture that does not understand privacy... so this is a good compromise. The landlady also said that she had talked to one of her friends about it and her friend said, "Oh you must never disturb the yoga students! They go to bed early, get up early, and sleep in the nude (gasp)!"

Before I left home I said to K (one of the yoga teachers from my area) that I hoped I would not be lonely in Mysore. She laughed and said, "In Mysore you are never lonely."

On an up note... later today I have my first rolfing session! It is less expensive here (as is everything) so it is within my reach... and many people have recommended it.

Mysore nocturne to aubade

2006-06-21T22:33:00.000-07:00

At night Mysore has sounds that are completely new to me. At around 9 pm the dog sounds begin. Mostly this is ferral dogs arguing about territory and hierarchy. It is only occasional as one dog gives another one a warning and perhaps a fight starts. Later, around midnight, the pack seems to have worked out its internal squabbles and they start running around in groups chasing pigs. Later there will often be a blood-curdling pig scream. If a dog gets separated from the pack, sometimes he will howl. They don't seem to howl when together as wolves do. About two hours before morning the monkeys start yelling, "Whup! Whup Whuuuup! Whuuuup!" And the nightingale-type birds (but not nightingales) start calling. Then, when dawn breaks several birds announce and discuss this at length.

who this blog is for...

2006-06-21T02:47:00.000-07:00

I am writing this blog as a record of my experiences. I have spoken to most of the bloggers here. So far all have felt - at some time - the need to not say things because we will offend if we frankly say what we see and feel. Before I came to Mysore, I was convinced that I would be able to travel here alone as a western woman because of other women's blogs. All these blogs discussed sanitation, the poor, the maid system, and being treated differently because they were women. I am very thankful that these blogs gave me an idea of what to expect, what to wear, and how to act as a western woman traveling in this country.

A western woman coming to Indian for the first time (if she keeps her eyes open and reads) will not only personally be treated differently if she is not with a man, she will rapidly find that wife burning, dowry deaths, shunning widows and abandoned women, unreported rape (because of dishonor), aborting female babies, and many other crimes against women are routine here. Frankly, I care more about bluntly warning women of my culture (and men of my culture) than cow-towing to Indian men who flame me to intimidate me to shut up like a good woman...

Indian men flaming my blog is just, to me, a sign of how angry some men in this culture can get when a woman has the power to: 1) speak, and 2) delete what they say. This blog is not for them.

A dog will chase its tail and become more and more angry because it does not catch it. No one else cares that the dog's goal is hopeless.

silk, sandalwood and talks...

2006-06-20T04:45:00.000-07:00

Mysore is known for its beautiful silk and hand-carved sandalwood. Earlier, PSU and an anonymous poster suggested I look in the Kauvery store. There I found a few hand-carved Jesus statues and a Mary statue. The Mary statue had a cross on top of the crown that had broken and, to fix it, it had been put in upside-down. I explained that an upside-down cross was a bad sign to the vendor and he thanked me a lot for telling him and said he would have another the next week. Then we had a nice talk about how we will not know these things about each other's religions unless we talk about it.

Later, I was speaking with a Muslim man from whom I had bought several pieces of silk in the past few weeks. Since we had just haggled, he was sighing and saying that he disliked haggling so much. I told him that fixed pricing was first started in America by the Quakers because - the idea was - that haggling involves lying because each side starts out not saying what their bottom-line offer is. He started talking about business references in the Bible and the Koran and told me that, although he was Muslim, he had gone to Catholic school and was taught never to take more than 100% profit. He then asked me what my religion was and I said "Christian." He said that it concerned him that when he asked the western yoga students this question they often did not have an answer or took a while to say Christian. I agreed that I don't understand the hemming and hawing before saying "Christian" either. He then said that a lot of the yoga students do not seem to understand that Judaism, Christianity and Islam are religions of "the Book" and that you cannot be both a person of the Book and perhaps also worship Hindu Gods. He also said that he felt that a lot of the yoga students have an idea of what Hinduism is that is not the way it is practiced and also they have an idea that Hinduism is one one cosmology when in fact it is a general group of scripture and traditions that have produced a large number of sub-groups that theologically have little in common and many of whom do not agree with each other or recognize each other- and also would not recognize some western yoga students' suppositions about Hinduism. I listened to all this. A foreign religion is always partly experienced - just as a foreign culture is. The foreign religion is often a projection of our fears (if we dislike it) and our wishes (if we like it). He told me he was very pleased to speak with me because some of the westerners concern him. Then he told me that religion is really not discussed in India... that people tolerate each other's religion in India but do not discuss it. He said that Americans will always talk about religion even if they seem slow to admit that they are mostly Christians. Why so slow to bear witness he wanted to know?

At the Green Leaf restaurant at lunch I got the last table for two. A few minutes later a waiter asked me if I would mind sitting with a man who was also alone. He was a fair-skinned Indian man with well-manicured hands, a cell phone, and a palm pilot. He attempted to order in Hindi, then some other language and - I think the waitor responded in Kanada - which the man did not know and he ended up ordering in English. I asked him where he was from and he was from the North, here working on his Phd on Bio-mass as an energy source. We talked a little about the differences between northern and southern food and his thesis and the fact that his father had worked "in government." Then he asked me about my largest impression of India so far.

I told him that the thing that has struck me most is how much less power and choice women have here. He instructed me with the patience that a kind father has for a naughty child not to judge a culture on one thing. If I had said anything else I would have lied. I had simply been truthful about my largest impression; this way of responding is a not so subtle thing in India: Accept Your Place.

A little while back PSU and I had a little discussion about the poor and he pointed out that America is a rich country so I cannot compare the services America has with India. I believe that America is so rich because women are more powerful there in business and in government. One half of our population is not restricted but is mostly promoted by merit, will and ambition. By the way, PSU if you are reading, I thank you for your allowing me to speak my true impressions with good tolerance.

Years ago I remember reading a book by a father who was answering his daughter's questions about Catholicism. She had asked him why women were not able to become priests despite the concept that we are all God's children. He managed to fill a few pages - the major thrust of which was - that this is just one aspect of Catholicism which is rich and beautiful so why don't we not judge it on that one issue? I felt like reaching into the book and shaking this man and saying, "You are talking to a woman!" One major and important lesson I have gotten from this trip is that my rights as a woman are very recently won and extremely fragile and I keep my mouth shut and don't witness that fact at women's peril.

"Every Day Above Ground is a Good Day"
Long ago and far away in a well-ordered society where everyone had their place and everyone accepted their duty, a rich man on a walk idly asked a grave digger, "So, Digger, what do you think of your job and place?" The Digger said, "Well, I do do filthy hard work during all the daylight hours and it is a job that is sad; no one is ever happy that a grave has to be dug. Also, I breathe in dirt and my back is ruined with the labor. I dream of other things I will never be allowed to choose." The rich man said, "Well, other than that what do you think of your job and place?"

asanas...

2006-06-18T05:52:00.000-07:00

My ankle continues to heal. A couple of days ago I removed the bandage. Pashasana hurts. It may just take a while to be 100%. I have let go of that being while I am in Mysore (I leave July 1). In the meantime I am making a little flip-card book of what various people say about each asana in the primary series so that I can better understand what is behind different adjustments - and disagreements about alignment. An obvious one is that Iyengar's Adho Muka Svanasana (down dog) has a concave back - while Guruji and Sharath's are convex. This difference is echoed in several forward bends and is interesting because certainly a lot of advanced astangis have pretty flat - as opposed to convex - backs (Tim Miller, Richard Freedman, David Swenson come to mind). I would think that remaining flat or concave is more important than the depth of the forward bend for back safety...

Tonight I don't have my camera with me or I would share some pictures. Lately, I have been going to the "Southern Star" in the afternoons to read and do my asana notes. This is a western style hotel that was once actually named the Southern Star and is now the Regaalis. It is a western oasis with a pool surrounded by mostly western yoga students (many in bikinis) resting, reading, etc. I realized today that I like it because it is insulated from the dirt, fumes and sounds. It is kind of a guaranteed un-eventful afternoon.

I came home early today and the landlord let himself in yelling my name - because he wanted to say something to the maid. I came out of my room and he was in my kitchen saying, "J - what is the problem?" I told him I was working and went back into my room (mind you I have rented a full two bedroom apartment - not a room in their house). Then later the landlady knocked on my window and said, "Open the window!" She wanted to show me some pictures. I told her they were nice but I had to read. Then the maid came in and asked for money (she is paid by the landlord but it is not enough - he was complaining that he pays her rs 300 a month). I was told that it was part of my rent when I got this place. I did not know then that a tiny mid-70's lady who spoke no English would arrive with a filthy rag and wipe every surface in my apartment (without hot water or disinfectant) and then work on my laundry by beating it with a rock... until my leotard lost all its will to fit... and then start asking me for extra money every other time I see her. I cannot say "no" to her because she is the poorest woman I have ever known and she is working very hard doing things I that wish she wouldn't do... and she is old. Today she swept my bedroom. I was on my bed reading. She came over and pantomined that she needed food. I gave her rs 100. She then kissed my forehead and rubbed my arms, legs, hands, and feet at which point I managed to namaste and pantomine that I wanted to sleep. I could no longer concentrate on what I was reading. It is one thing to deal with begging on the street. It is another to deal with it in your room from a woman that you vaguely feel you owe but whose services you do not want. To say I did not want her would mean she is suddenly without the income from my landlord for cleaning my place.

I am extremely uncomfortable with the whole maid system. Yesterday my landlady came in while the maid was cleaning and watched her the whole time telling her what she was doing wrong. At the point where one has an employee who one must watch continually - what is the point of an employee? Status is the only thing I can come up with. Anyway, I am gauranteed more privacy and respect because I am working when I am sitting on a chaise lounge at the Southern Star than in my own apartment with the front door locked, all the windows closed and the door to my bedroom closed and lying on my bed!

The next time I come I have resolved that I need to set these ground rules:
1) NO maid.
2) NO entering my locked apartment without prior permission.
3) NO knocking on my bedroom window to chat.

When I arrived here I was very nervous about being a woman traveling alone and about offending because I did not know the culture. Next time I need to establish that I need lots of time alone to work. I don't know how a married couple can have marital relations. Perhaps if I had a husband here they would be leaving me alone.

Bovine News

2006-06-15T07:24:00.000-07:00

1. The female buffalo (cow) on the way to the water trough notices me.

2. After two minutes staring with both eyes, the cow starts sizing me up with just the left eye while literally chewing it over... two more minutes pass...

3. Traffic goes around cow as cow considers situation.

4. Cow decides my interest in her is harmless and she can approach the water trough and take a drink.

Speaking of cows... my dosha is Kapha with a distant secondary Vata. This makes me in many ways like a cow and (my theory is) highly suited to Ashtanga. Kapha types tend to be strong but not easily motivated to action. They tend to be slow, grounded, trusting, loyal and did I say slow?

I am noticing that a lot of people in this Ashtanga Mecca are rajasic... leaning toward what in the west is called the "type A" personality. It seems that - while satisfying because it seems to reinforce their coping strategies and world view - Ashtanga exacerbates the rajasic, hot, excited, strenuous, conquering and achievement side in these people. This can be summed up in the phrase that a long-time student said to one of my dinner mates when my dinner mate unwittingly tried to put her mat down in the front row. Long-time rajasic ashtangi: "This is my spot!"

Me, on the other hand... Ashtanga pushes uncomfortably against my desire to sleep! The last thing I think I am naturally inclined to do is get up early and create a lot of heat. It is balancing for me because it is not the direction I grow were I to grow like a weed. So, an injury is always a delicate thing for me. Am I being careful or lazy - or both?

Using rickshaws...

2006-06-14T08:06:00.000-07:00

Sharath announced this morning that his family will be going for a pooja in Guruji's village on Friday. There will be a led class tomorrow (Thursday) and no class Friday and no class Saturday (as usual). Perhaps this is an opportunity to get out of town and away from diesel fumes. We will see.

Today I decided to get a light bulb for a table lamp. I like to read in bed. I have been here long enough to know this would not be easy on my own. I showed the rickshaw driver a business card on K T road. He asked me "Come back?" because, of course, he would like me to go and come back so he can make the fare both ways. I showed him the little 40 watt bulb and said, "If I find this, yes, otherwise I walk around all day." This motivated him to help me find a place that sells these bulbs - and this guy is a rather enterprising driver. He drove me in and asked for me at two stores and found it for me and drove me back... I of course gave him a good tip.

Above is a picture from our drive in the rickshaw into city center. These auto-rickshaws have three wheels and the ability to squeeze three across a space that - in the states - would be considered a two lane road. Technically they should only carry 3 people. But this seems to only apply to westerners.

Here is a picture of 6 school girls in a rickshaw with all their bags hanging off the meter....

Mysore sidewalks...

2006-06-13T08:02:00.000-07:00

Each morning - early - the maids wash the sidewalks around the houses and then draw designs with a powdered chalk. These change from day to day, although some maids seem to have specialties. Some are quite ambitious and some more perfunctory. When I gave my maid some money to buy a saree for a special occasion... one appeared in front of my door...

pooja

2006-06-12T07:13:00.000-07:00

In Mysore the apartments have a small pooja - or prayer room. In practice they tend to be a place with an altar where is it possible to make sacrifices to, for example - in the case of my landlady - the family's patron deity. After trying for a while to figure it out, I have decided the one in tile on my pooja wall is Babaji. Since I am not Hindu, I felt that it was inappropriate for me to have a Hindu altar in my pooja. So, I found a simple gold secular wall hanging of elephants and birds to cover Babaji, and then made a Christian altar in front of it. This took a while but I finally found an incense holder with a cross and a Sticker. This Sticker is the 'bleeding heart of Jesus' icon surrounded with Indian money. CK tells me money is called "dew dew" in Kanada...

The Cure…

2006-06-11T01:13:00.000-07:00

My practice has settled into carefully making sure that my sprained ankle never turns laterally or medially. So, I am modifying all half-lotuses on the right side and per Sharath I am stopping right before garbapindasana. Rolling around in lotus with a sprained ankle would be...unwise. As with most injuries, this one does present some opportunities. One is, during a led class I get to watch Guruji, Saraswati, and Sharath work together and see how they adjust, etc. I am still reflecting on that. Another opportunity is focusing on my upper-body more. I am doing "David Swenson" Up and Down Dogs. David goes from Up dog back to chaturunga and then pushes up slowly into Down Dog. The vinyasa count is still the same; it just makes each vinyasa have the equivalent of another push up. My uplutthi has gone from 15 to 20 count and I am considering adding a count each class. Also, I am holding the uplutthi between Navasanas for 2 counts.

After the third person told me to go see Kumar (an aruvedic massage theraptist) about my ankle; I decided to go up to his house and make an appointment. He was kind enough to see me the next day for a few minutes to look at my ankle even though he could not give me a full appointment for another week.

I arrived this morning and he invited me to sit on a futon on the floor and asked me how this had happened. I told him I had sprained it falling into a sewer (see Cholera Diptheria Hell?). He pushed on my ankle for about 15 minutes, managing to find (without asking me) the most painful places to push. He told me I need to be less busy in my mind... that I have been trying to "be a man" when I am actually a rather feminine woman. "So," I asked, "I need to focus on maybe buying a dress?" He found this amusing and added that it should have pink in it and flowers. He said that he sensed that I have not been feeling safe and that I am trying to "be a man" to deal with it... that I have hurt my right foot because I have been trying to find my footing with my masculine side and it is not right for me. I told him that when I hurt my foot so soon after I arrived I had just spent most of my time taking auto-rickshaws to try to get basic things like food, soap, etc. And this meant dealing with the drivers who were charging me the wrong amount, demanding twice the meter, and driving me around in circles to increase the fare. I had gotten the sprain right around the time that I was sternly asking each driver as I got in, "Is the meter working?" and repeating it until I got an answer and then stating: "I will only pay the meter." And then perhaps, "I want Kalidassa Road. Go Main road, right Gokulam road. I want that road. I am paying." And then if they started going anywhere else I would start saying, "Not right road!"

Yesterday CK and I went to "Three Sisters,"a nice place to eat near the old shala. We were recommending an English-speaking film festival to the few other western Ashtangis there. A young man from America, B, was asking one of the sisters in detail about how to take a castor oil bath (see Guruji's Conference). During this B was slumping with his left foot on his right knee, so that the sole of his left foot was facing her face at eye level less than a foot away from her face since she was also sitting on the floor. I did not want to embarrass him by telling him to sit up and get his left foot out of her face. He had no idea that he was being rude. Then, after a long talk about the bath, he asked the sister if she would like to go to the movie with him on his motorcycle. She flopped down on the futon on her belly laughing and looked at CK and me and said through her fit of laughter, "Oh! He wants take me on his bike to the movies! Oh! Ha Ha! And everyone see this and I will be seen as his wife and no other man will ever marry me! Oh! Hahahahah!" I soberly told B that he had better apologize to the sister for trying to besmirch her reputation - or ask her to marry him - whichever he thought best. He said a little sheepishly, "...it was just a movie."

Men Staring...

2006-06-07T01:09:00.000-07:00

The picture below is where the maids live near the graveyard in traditional huts.

This is a picture a few blocks away of a doctor's house.

While I was taking this picture, a man-boy who was perhaps 19 or 20 drove up the street with branches on the back of his bicycle. We looked at each other as he went by and I was a little startled by how bright and aware he seemed. He stopped about 20 meters away, stood leaning up against his bike holding his branches and staring at me. This is a common occurrence for the western yoginis here. Sometimes it is unnerving because a man will stand in (what for a westerner) would be a woman's personal space, fold his arms on his chest and just stare. When I go out this happens continually. Now, in my defense, my attire here is about as sexy as a nun. And some days I cover my head with the shawl to hide my hair which is in a braid. Apparently, the problem is that I am fair -skinned and -haired and blue-eyed.

Anyway, I turned at one point and while looking down at the camera held in front of me so he could not tell what I was doing, I took this picture of him looking at me:

Then I took a few more pictures of the house with different settings waiting to see how long he would stay looking at me. Finally, I turned and held the camera up and took this:
Now, if you are a man, imagine going to a country and having women stare at you like this. Because he did not exude an aggressive or predatory feeling that some of the men do while staring, I walked up to him. Which, amusingly unnerved him. I showed him the picture on the digital viewer and he pointed at it and pointed to himself and I knotted and he dissolved into this big little-boy smile. It was really very sweet. Then some older man came over and said, "Is that him?" I knodded and the older man started yelling "15 rupees!" I do not know if that was the price of the picture, the camera, the model fee or me - but the young man's smile disappeared and he looked pained. So I turned and left.

Guruji's Conference...

2006-06-05T07:33:00.000-07:00

As Mysore veterans know, some Sundays Guruji has the current students meet at the Shala for questions and answers. This Sunday's conference had a lot of laughing.
Now, before I go on... I should make a disclaimer that Guruji's answers often contain a lot of Sanskrit scripture. He will fix his eyes on the questioner and say a lot of things that, at least linguistically but perhaps not intuitively, most questioners will not understand. So, this report is highly subjective... and subject to all sorts of errors and misinterpretations to the point where perhaps it should not even be written.

That said, Guruji asked for questions and there was a silence broken by a soft-spoken woman who he asked to come to the front so he could hear. She asked, "Guruji, would you say something about practicing Ashtanga as you age?"

He said, "How old are you?"

She said, "In front of all these people?" She has one of those who-knows-how-old looks.

He said, "How old are you?"

She said, "I am 46." She looked younger.

He said, "You are very young," and then there was general laughter. And then a long enough silence with Guruji looking at her that it was clear that he wanted a comment back. She said, "I am writing that down. 'I... am... young' " and there was more general laughter. Then Guruji took a serious tone and quoted some Sanskrit that went something like "Sanskrit Sanskrit Sanskrit Sanskrit LAZY. You are not lazy." Then Sharath said that Guruji says that as you get older you must go more slowly and may progress more slowly and you must have patience and that the worst thing is to limit yourself in your mind because of your age. That will stop you sooner than a problem with the body.

A woman asked about Nauli. Guruji said that women should not practice nauli because it is not good for making babies.

Another woman asked about castor oil baths. Guruji said that women should do them on Tuesdays and Fridays. Put the oil over the body avoiding the eyes and mouth and wait a while. Start with ten minutes and increase by ten minutes each new day that one does it until waiting 30 minutes then stay with that. After the wait take a hot bath with an Indian product whose name I did not get. It will cool the body and loosen the joints.

Another woman asked, "Guruji, what if you have already had your children?"

He said, "How many you have?"

She said, "Two."

He said, "You should have ten babies." general laughter...

She said in disbelief, "Ten babies?"

He said, "Eleven. Ten babies and husband." more laughter...

Then he spoke more seriously about how there were too many people in the world... but that ladies should have some babies... two perhaps. He said that when he was growing up everyone had many babies. There were several questions about his family and we learned that he was the 6th of 8 children (this many be wrong I did not make a note of it at the time). He had a brother who died last year and another brother who is still alive and his older sister died at 108.

Then guruji spoke some more about age and quoted some Sanskrit. He said that God gives each of us 100 years and that we can preserve this through proper exercise and diet. That Ashtanga yoga provides good health and that good posture is very important, and then he sat up straight. He said that Ashtanga and diet prevent diabetes and the other major problems with health. Then he quoted some more Sanskrit and said that some yogis live hundreds of years but God gives us each 100 years and we can have that we can have through Ashtanga and diet. He said not to waste our time. Not to be lazy.

A man asked, "Guruji, when you were talking about aging were you talking about going slowly like this [he made a gesture like he was starting sun salutations but moving very slowly] or in terms of progressing." There was general laughter and Guruji and Sharath answered that more it meant progress will be slower and that expecting progress to be slower with age. Then Guruji asked the same man, "How many children?" He said, "None." Guruji said you had better start working on it. The man said "I will go and tell my wife we should start working on it tonight." more laughter...

A man asked, "What if you can't have children? Should you adopt?"

Guruji said, "If you find that no children come then yes, you go get children. But do not leave your wife. Do not leave your wife because she is barren. You go get children."

and then Guruji thanked people for coming.

Afterwards I asked the woman who had been told to have 10 babies what she was going to do. She said, "My children are grown. I will be a grandmother before I am a mother again." Saraswati overheard this and asked, "How many children do you have?"

The woman answered, "two."

"Why don't you have more children."

"Because I am too old!"
____________________________
* It is the following day and I am updating because PSUMysore has been kind enough to share the name of the soap to wash off the castor oil. It is "She-Ka-Kai" or soapnut powder and in Mysore can be bought in Nilgiri's. Also, I remembered another point that Guruji made about ageing. He quoted in Sanskrit about life and breath. As long as there is prana; there is life. We all have a certain number of breaths in our lives. Ashtanga teaches us breath control through vinyasa and ujjai (sp?) breath. Breath control is key to a long life.

A Talk with Sharath...

2006-06-03T08:04:00.000-07:00

On Friday I went to my first led practice. The woman next to me had one of those practices that only a dancer can have. Everything had a flourish. She was also doing things like supta kurmasana without using her hands to put her legs in place and jumping into all the janusirsanas.

My ankle got worse after doing full primary in mysore class with all the half lotuses on the right side. So I decided I had to not do any half lotuses on the right during the led class. Everything went well through supta kurmasana. Each time I had to do a half lotus on the right (such as Marychiasana B and D) I put my sprained ankle on the floor instead of in lotus. Then, for garbapindasana, I put my left foot in lotus, turned my right knee in but not in lotus and started to put my left arm through. Sharath, who was standing next to me, his arms folded across his chest said, "Put your right leg in lotus." I pointed to my bound right foot (see photo for a recreation of what he saw). He made a circular motion with his finger indicating again to put it into lotus. I said, "It hurts." He said, "Then stop till finishing."

So I sat and watched... which was interesting. And Sharath was right about my not hurting myself. As you can tell from the photo, he was pointing out the obvious. If hurt; be hurt - even if I am in Mysore. If I were home I would not be pushing it.

I am sure he sees this a lot.

In sirsasana, I was thinking a little too much and thought, "...well, it could be worse. I could live in that tiny reed hut that my maid lives in... with no water or electricity and use the area out back as my toilet. Born a woman into a society that would definitely prefer a boy baby."

My problems are trivial.

On a much nicer note, I met C.K. and we went to a craft exhibition (that had some beautiful Tamil jewelry) and then to the Southern Star and had chocolate cake!

On further reflection on the led class experience, I have realized that I can now be lazy until I hopefully heal! Just kidding... I will focus on my bandhas or something.

If you have read this far, let me describe an image. There is a 1951 black and white movie "A Christmas Carol" with Alistair Sims that is aired every Christmas on television in a lot of English-speaking places. In it, at the end of his visit, a now aged Ghost of Christmas present opens his robes to reveal two thin, impoverished children. It is a stark visual that keeps coming to mind since I arrived in Mysore. From the Dicken's Novel:

"They are Man's," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased."

My first AYRI practice...

2006-05-30T23:16:00.000-07:00

Sharath gave me a 6:30 slot. I arrived at 6:15 to be sure I was not late and he told me I was too early. My very first sun salutation I did 'ekum hands up, dve exhale fold foreward...' and then Guruji pushed down on my lower back. So. I was adjusted during my first breath. Later, Sharath adjusted me in urdhva muka paschimottanasana making my nose touch my legs and I did dropbacks with Saraswatti. I was suprised by the amount of help I got. I was expecting to not be adjusted at all. I was also suprised that towards the second half of my practice the room was only half full. I was able to do supta hasta padangusthasana and then going to the side without worrying about touching anyone. When I left I would say there were 40 people there.

Now the downside. My right ankle is still swollen (see my last blog where I recount how I fell into a 7' deep sewer trench). My landlady looked at it last night and told me she would take me to her "American trained" doctor to have it x-rayed on Friday if the swelling has not gone down. It has been a week since the injury and it is still swollen. I am icing it while elevated each night. Pointing my toe does not hurt but any lateral move does and it hurts in half lotus on the right. Renting a motor scooter helped this passed week... When I push back on my shin bone, my tibia is not visibly shifting backwards at the ankle joint so I am hoping my anterior talo-fibular ligament is not torn. I wonder if I have a hairline fracture of my fibula.

I did the whole primary this morning but I have to say that if I had not come all the way to Mysore I would not have. I am not one to normally take risks with my body. I got to Marichyasana D on that side and my fibula hurt getting into lotus. But I did not want to be stopped there for the rest of my time here... when I normally can do it. Well, we will see Friday. If I broke something that will be that, I guess.

Cholera, Diphtheria, Hell?

2006-05-27T08:45:00.000-07:00

I went out in a rickshaw to find an internet cafe to email my parents - so that they would not worry. I had several small adventures on the way but on the way back I managed to fall into a sewer, losing my glasses, a shoe, wrenching my ankle and almost losing my passport, money and credit cards in my fanny pack.

But this was good because getting out required a feat of upper body strength that I did not know I had! This was probably motivated by my feet dangling, my head at street level with traffic going by and having no idea of how deep it was below me... perhaps, I considered, reaching all the way down to my unseemly death. Itripped, and when I finally landed, instead of being on the ground, I was doing an iron-cross pose in a sewer... I screamed and drew a crowd. Apparently men stand around at night in Mysore. This blonde woman in the sewer was interesting. Many things were said in Kananda-ish. It was 10pm on a moonless night. I was the entertainment. After my amazing feat of strength to get out, with the help of a kind gentleman with matches and a stick, my glasses and shoe were retrieved.

The rickshaw driver who pulled up a foot away from my head and watched the whole thing asked me if I wanted a ride and then told me - through a translator - that he would charge 3 times the meter. Then the translator wanted 5 rupees as well. I said "no why would I do that?" and I limped away with them staring at me in disbelief. I limped in a huff... very slowly... a block away to where my reputation had not been.... sullied... and I got a rickshaw driver who wanted 10 rupees over the meter. I think he unfortunately saw the limp. I agreed to this and he returned me to my apartment where, after bathing, I used that 32 oz of Isopropil Alcohol that I had brought in two zip locked bags. The bottle said it was not to be used over large areas of the body, but, I decided that had the writer known he would have added, "unless you have fallen into a sewer in Southern India". Then I put antibiotic/antiseptic cream, band-aides and anti-fungus/anti-ringworm cream on my hands and feet and thigh which all had scratches. All of this first aide I had thought I was probably paranoid to bring.... My right foot swelled up so I elevated and iced my foot (my apartment fortunately has a refrigerator). No yoga for a couple days. Hopefully Monday I will be good as new...

In Mysore...

2006-05-24T08:37:00.000-07:00

I arrived at the Green hotel at 3 am this morning. Since then I have done a mysore class at Sheshadri's shala and rented a two bed-room apartment near AYRI. Perhaps when I start AYRI on June 1, I was look into getting a roomate. In the meantime, I was very impressed with Sheshadri. He kept asking me if he were being too hard on me and he wasn't. [I am pretty squashable - it is strength that I have an issue with]. As always, I need help to get into Supta Kurmasana fully. He made me do dropbacks very quickly and then he put me on his back to really get my back to bend (and stretch) at the same time... very interesting. I am trying to decide if I ought to go up to eka pada tomorrow as M at home had me doing. Once at AYRI I will just be doing primary after all. After class he wanted to know how long I have been practicing and with who.

.... 1 .... lift off

2006-05-22T03:39:00.000-07:00

In about five hours I will be on the plane. Yesterday I ran around getting my parrot to my friend's M's house and doing last minute things like getting a padlock for my hotel room and a 220v electrical adapter for my laptop. The parrot was muttering "I thought... I thought.... what was that!?" Indicating that all of this was a surprise to him and not what he had been planning. Fortunately he has stayed at her house before for the weekend and began preening and singing scales contentedly and laughing to himself when placed in his spot in front of the window where he can watch the backyard (an active place with a 2 foot wide tortoise, several iguanas, an aviary of doves, a cat and a dog... really the equivalent of parrot TV).

Then I went to a barbecue on the beach with some of my yoga friends. It was a beautiful cloudless day and the water was 80F (27c). I met a woman there who had lived in India twice for 8 months each time studying yoga and naturopathy in Delhi. And of course my yoga friends are all excited and want to know all about the trip. I did not mention the blog. I guess I have to realize that this is public and if one of them finds it, they all will. I am holding on to the hope that something will happen that is so interesting I will not want to discuss it with everyone I know. But the Ashtanga community is small... Anyway, I am off to get my decaf coffee and face the last packing things (toothbrush, etc). I wonder if there is decaf in Mysore...

2 days till India

2006-05-20T05:34:00.000-07:00

The pre-India dreams are in full force.

In brief, in this one a small, wizen man - who at some point I find out is a doctor - leaves hints, parables and clues that bring me to a gathering where (I am surprised) he is speaking. Discerning more clues gets me into a very large palace with many rooms. Later I am on an island with many large fantastic sculptures of subjects like Atlas holding up the world. They look like they are made of sand.... but I touch one and it is mud. How are they held together? Is this monsoon mud? In previous dreams I recognize people who upon waking I do not know.

So, I have been good. For the last couple weeks I have been doing a couple pre-mysore things everyday so I still have things to do but it is do-able. Today I try to find waterproof monsoon shoes....

3 days till Mysore...

2006-05-19T01:58:00.000-07:00

Tonight I had dinner with two of my friends from yoga teacher training. E, who is psychic, told me what was going to happen in Mysore. So I thought I had better document it. I will meet a guy who is probably from England or New Zealand who looks like he is of Indian descent, with slightly long hair wearing faded orange pants and serving tea. Also, I will have an amazing heart opening where everything that has happened to me will suddenly make sense and fall into place... and this will probably happen during a practice. Mostly my trip will be about the later not the former.

4 days until India...

2006-05-18T12:49:00.000-07:00

Hmmm. What should I bring to read? Is Hatha Yoga Pratipika too ambitious (and heavy)? Today I managed to get my friend M to take my bird for the duration of the trip. She worked at an avian vet for 15 years, has 6 iguanas, a two foot wide tortoise wandering in the yard, a dog, a cat, an aviary of doves.... My parrot will be happy there. He does not like to be boarded and this has been weighing on me. It is beginning to dawn on me that I will not have enough evenings left to see each friend who would expect to see me right before I go. I've been having dreams about floods, immersion and familiar people who I don't know.

Now that work is done I've been sitting here watching what I think is Cirque du Soleil... with my foot behind my neck.... how appropriate.

5 days Till Mysore...

2006-05-17T07:55:00.000-07:00

Practice went well this morning. My studio is not doing Mysore classes right now but my teacher is letting a few of us in to practice. There was actually music this morning (we felt naughty). Someone had done a mix that started with Guruji doing the opening chant and then various quiet songs like "Blackbird." Then, suddenly, in the middle of all that there was Lulu in her mod 1967 voice singing "To Sir with Love" at which point I exclaimed, "to sir with love!" and everyone laughed. I feel like music can make the practice do-able when my mind is unable to focus... but of course it is an escape rather than a support for deepening the moving meditation...etc etc.

As usual I was able to bind in supta kurmasana but I needed help (from a helpful mat neighbor who kindly offered) with getting the feet behind the head - which once there I can hold for 5 breaths - and on a good day push up from it and jump back. This is the last sticky wicket of primary for me. I use to not care. But for a few years now I have thought, 'well, I will go to Mysore when I can do the whole primary without help.' So, since I am going in 5 days... I am going.... unprepared (horrors)! There are certain things I could do as a teenager (headstand, split, dropbacks, tic-tocs...). I have gotten these again except I still only come up after doing a dropback on a... good day. But - because everything I have done in my youth seems do-able - I feel it will come in time.

However, I could not do supta kurmasana at 13. My best friend could (funny how the 13 year old mind works). I remember trying in yoga class to do yoganidrasana for a few weeks and I could bind but could not get that right leg behind the head. So - I could not do it at that most young and limber age. So getting it now without help would be a major step... at 46 years old. I have heard that technically you can cross your feet in front of your head and bind to "do" the primary series. So technically I can do primary... but I got stuck on dwi pada when I was moved onto second so I have to deal with it. My right hip is not open enough to do it without really pushing back on my leg. Bizarrely, I have gotten into yoganidrasana - in the evening - without help 0nce about 6 months ago. I was a little thinner around the belly....

Which brings me to my short arms and legs issue. I am 5' 2". All of the shortness is in my arms and legs. So, for example, I will sit and talk with people who are 5'8" and they do not know I am short until we stand up. So most other people have the distance from the hip to the knee be 3 to 3 inches longer in relation to the length of their spine. While I do bind in Marichyasana D, if I extend my back upwards before the twist, my arm will come off the top of the knee of my short leg. Also, I am told I should have my hip down in D. Once again I could do this if my leg were longer but my arm comes off the bind at the top when I put my hip down. Also, when I jump back my foot always hits the floor as I try to fit my body in the area that my short arms allow. Is this going to really go away with more highly evolved bandhas? Is there an advanced teacher with a long body and short arms and legs?

6 Days till India....

2006-05-16T12:13:00.000-07:00

Today the visa arrived so I am definitely going. I have been running around trying to arrange my life so I can be away until July 1. I also know I am going because the strange dreams are beginning... which tends to happen when I am about to have an influential experience.

My practice has been in a little bit of a holding pattern. The studio where I have been taking Mysore classes for the last two years has introduced me to several excellent teachers. Amusingly, M had me going up to eka pada in second. Then I took two months off during my divorce and when I came back primary was all I could handle. Then D (an authorized Jois teacher) came for a few weeks and moved me on to kopotasana. Then when he was gone M had me stopping after supta kurmasana and moving directly to pashasana and stopping at eka pada again. Then T came to teach the mysore for a month (also authorized) and wanted to know why I was doing that. I told him because I could only get into supta kurmasana bound with both feet behind my head if I had help so M had me going up to that and then moving on... So he said that I should do primary until I did not have a problem with supta kurmasana. Then he helped me into supta kurmasana and said it was fine and he did not know what the problem was. Then he went off to teach for a few weeks in another country (I got out of supta kurmasana before he did that). Anyay, so, what my practice is and where I am - is a little of a mystery to me. Thankfully, I am going to AYRI where I will do the primary series and probably not have anyone notice my practice! When I come back I will be at a new studio with yet another authorized teacher (G) for Mysore. I think my issue is that I am imbalanced towards flexibility so that I can bind in things but upper body strength is still a big challenge... another blogging Ashtangi has suggested I do handstands for 1.5 minutes and 5 minute headstands. This is helping...