Traffic on the drive to Bangalore...to go to the airport and leave India!
posted by Hilary @ 10:53 AM
Monday, September 13, 2004
Traffic on the drive to Bangalore...to go to the airport and leave India!
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Saturday, September 04, 2004
Goodbye India!
September 2, 7:45 pm
Just got back from the 3 Sisters. A saffron lasse turned into two hours of just lying around, chatting with Harini. Not about much of anything, just “girl chat”. I certainly will miss her! I feel fortunate to have made some Indian friends and not just yoga friends.
Speaking of friends, I met Laura’s husband Lee. Despite being jet lagged, he was very charming and funny. Good traits in a man! J We went to Gita’s for lunch and were joined by Pam and Deb; whiled away the afternoon.
When I got back to the Kaveri, I had a phone message from some man named “Avajit” in Bangalore. Since there’s no way I got drunk here and gave my number to some random guy in a bar (just kidding), I gave him a ring. He works for a regional parcel delivery service and they are trying to deliver my care package sent by the Faeths (as in the Heather and the boys). Not only is it about a week overdue but they want 6000 RP “import tax” – that’s $120! Um, in America that’s a pretty penny but in India it’s a FORTUNE. Avajit sounded embarrassed even uttering the amount to me. Heather so nicely sent me items like jam and stain stick – what the HECK could they be taxing?? Now I’ll have to refuse the package and clearly Avajit and his buddies will be enjoying my breakfast bars and Sterzing Potato Chips! Sigh…
As I lie on my bed here at the Kaveri, for the second to last evening, with the fan twirling above (actually, spinning so fast it could decapitate someone) and the dog whining next door, I try to collect my thoughts about India. About living here and about leaving. Especially as Laura and I tried to acclimate Lee to Mysore today, I think about how far I’ve come! How everything that was once foreign and mysterious has become commonplace and even routine over the past month. How I’ve made friends – both Western and Indian – and how I’ve carved out a routine, a niche, and feel settled in. There are still moments – even whole days – where India continues to amaze me and get under my skin. The bustle, the traffic, the honking, the sheer buzz of one million people, the streets full of colorful saris and serious-looking mustached men, cows, fruit, the smell of masala chai tea and dust. Everywhere. The hot yellow sun (now that the monsoon is gone), the delicious, sought-after shade. Curries and chapatti and sweet lime sodas; rickshaws, bed bugs, and bucket showers. All of it is so Indian; so different than America yet ultimately not that different. Families and pets and people working; children going to school; women cooking and cleaning; old people passing the time visiting with neighbors.
As for the yoga, I believe my practice has grown. Not in an asana sense (I have a longer, more involved daily practice at home) but in a (I almost hate to say it) “spiritual” sense. I’ve now been to the source, studied with the master, learned about where yoga came from and met people from all over the world who love Ashtanga as much as I do. The yoga experience here has stripped away some of my natural boredom and frustration with a daily practice; once again focusing on the primary series has reminded me of why I was drawn to Ashtanga in the first place and reconfirmed my passion. I feel refreshed and renewed to go back and dive into my continuing practice at home. (Of course, a few weeks back with Noah torturing me, I’m sure I’ll forget all about my new found attitude – ha ha!) I’ve also learned much from my fellow students. Not only practical yoga tips, but the various ways that others approach yoga and how it affects their lives.
Today we stopped by the Indian house in Gokulum where Pam and Deb live and took a peek inside. Their Indian “mom” (the older sister of the house) told me there was a room for rent there, encouraging me to move in! I had to break it to her that I’m leaving Saturday. She seemed sad (no income!) but I was too. It would be so easy to move in and stay for 3 months (6 months!) like many yoga students do…
Then I think of home and in many ways I can’t wait to get back! I miss friends and family (…and a certain young man). And, as you all know, I miss sushi and flush toilets and TV and all of that. But I also very much miss my career. I realize how attached to it I am! I miss the creative energy Liz and I have when working together; I miss going after jobs and just being in the thick of the entertainment industry. So many of the yoga students here only have some sort of “day job” in the West and quit when they’ve saved enough money to come here. As much as I’m devoted to yoga, I’m NOT devoted enough to give up a fulfilling and rewarding career! J And while I’ve adapted to the simple life, I miss certain freedoms in the West. The career is case in point – only men write movies in India; it’d be an unheard of job for women. I want to walk down the street – bare shouldered no less – and not get hassled or stared at. I think I (like everyone) take America’s “freedoms” for granted. I truly can do anything I want (within the law) and be anything I want. NOT liberties women have in India. And for that, I’m grateful…and grateful to be going home.
September 3, 7:45 am
Just got back from my final yoga practice. As our Israeli friend Rotem would say, I felt “full power” today! Everyone was hugging and kissing Guruji (feet and cheek) goodbye after class; we also said thank you to Sharath and Saraswati. As Laura noted, it really felt like the “end of the semester” since the Shala is closing for two weeks and most students are taking off. I took another photo with Gurjui and he TWICE asked me if I’d be here when he got back from vacation! I said unfortunately no, but that I’m Noah and Kimberly’s student and I’d see him in Los Angeles on his next world tour! He’s so cute. I’m sure I’m not supposed to say that about my learned, wise, and even holy 90-year-old Guru, but it’s true! He’s just adorable. A true bright spirit and energy radiates from him. I am fortunate to be able to study yoga with him.
September 4, 4:45 am
Can’t sleep. What a “call back” to my FIRST night in Mysore, when I was up at the same time! Waiting for the temple devotional music to kick in.
Had a perfectly Colonial send-off evening. Lee brought goodies from England with him – olive tapenade, cheese, crackers, roasted peppers and a bottle of Pinot Grigio, which we noshed on in the Green Hotel TV room. We met a doctor from England, Simon, working in India (also a guest of the Green Hotel), and he joined us for dinner. Okay, fine, Laura and I had Chinese food, not that Colonial. But the waiter said to us, “Gin and tonics?” I’d never had one in my life but it’s all the Brits drank during Colonial times in Africa and India – tonic used to be made of quinine which wards off malaria. Laura and I said sure (the guys had beers) even though the gin here is synthetic! India has strict laws about importing liquor and distill their own, made-up brands. I’d say it wasn’t too bad but I don’t have much gin experience to compare it to! Later, Krishna drove me home on a scooter instead of the rickshaw. (There’s been some problems with his rickshaw – it’s rented and the owner wants it back so Krishna is in the process of leasing a new one.) There are no helmet laws here (sorry for those worried about my head on the pavement like a ripe melon!); it’s very liberating to drive through the Mysore city streets with the night wind in your hair! I will miss this place. Although I’m guessing my inability to sleep is excitement about going home.
Later today is the big send off lunch at the 3 Sisters; we’re also celebrating Pam’s 30th birthday three weeks early since Laura and I won’t be here for it. Harini even made sure she had no massages so she can join us for lunch! (Goodbye lunch pix will be posted when I return to America, post Labor Day.) Then Krishna, driver Kumar, and I are off in the car for Bangalore come 4 o’clock. Krishna has been so wonderful to me, I’d love to give him a goodbye hug at the airport. But I suspect that’s totally improper. Should I shake his hand? (Indians don’t really shake hands – they press their hands together and bow to one another or in certain cases, you get down on the ground and kiss feet.) I suppose I’ll figure it out when the time comes! My flight leaves from Bangalore at 11:45 pm, connecting through Singapore, and I’m back in Los Angeles at 1 pm on Sunday.
Goodbye, India!
Just got back from the 3 Sisters. A saffron lasse turned into two hours of just lying around, chatting with Harini. Not about much of anything, just “girl chat”. I certainly will miss her! I feel fortunate to have made some Indian friends and not just yoga friends.
Speaking of friends, I met Laura’s husband Lee. Despite being jet lagged, he was very charming and funny. Good traits in a man! J We went to Gita’s for lunch and were joined by Pam and Deb; whiled away the afternoon.
When I got back to the Kaveri, I had a phone message from some man named “Avajit” in Bangalore. Since there’s no way I got drunk here and gave my number to some random guy in a bar (just kidding), I gave him a ring. He works for a regional parcel delivery service and they are trying to deliver my care package sent by the Faeths (as in the Heather and the boys). Not only is it about a week overdue but they want 6000 RP “import tax” – that’s $120! Um, in America that’s a pretty penny but in India it’s a FORTUNE. Avajit sounded embarrassed even uttering the amount to me. Heather so nicely sent me items like jam and stain stick – what the HECK could they be taxing?? Now I’ll have to refuse the package and clearly Avajit and his buddies will be enjoying my breakfast bars and Sterzing Potato Chips! Sigh…
As I lie on my bed here at the Kaveri, for the second to last evening, with the fan twirling above (actually, spinning so fast it could decapitate someone) and the dog whining next door, I try to collect my thoughts about India. About living here and about leaving. Especially as Laura and I tried to acclimate Lee to Mysore today, I think about how far I’ve come! How everything that was once foreign and mysterious has become commonplace and even routine over the past month. How I’ve made friends – both Western and Indian – and how I’ve carved out a routine, a niche, and feel settled in. There are still moments – even whole days – where India continues to amaze me and get under my skin. The bustle, the traffic, the honking, the sheer buzz of one million people, the streets full of colorful saris and serious-looking mustached men, cows, fruit, the smell of masala chai tea and dust. Everywhere. The hot yellow sun (now that the monsoon is gone), the delicious, sought-after shade. Curries and chapatti and sweet lime sodas; rickshaws, bed bugs, and bucket showers. All of it is so Indian; so different than America yet ultimately not that different. Families and pets and people working; children going to school; women cooking and cleaning; old people passing the time visiting with neighbors.
As for the yoga, I believe my practice has grown. Not in an asana sense (I have a longer, more involved daily practice at home) but in a (I almost hate to say it) “spiritual” sense. I’ve now been to the source, studied with the master, learned about where yoga came from and met people from all over the world who love Ashtanga as much as I do. The yoga experience here has stripped away some of my natural boredom and frustration with a daily practice; once again focusing on the primary series has reminded me of why I was drawn to Ashtanga in the first place and reconfirmed my passion. I feel refreshed and renewed to go back and dive into my continuing practice at home. (Of course, a few weeks back with Noah torturing me, I’m sure I’ll forget all about my new found attitude – ha ha!) I’ve also learned much from my fellow students. Not only practical yoga tips, but the various ways that others approach yoga and how it affects their lives.
Today we stopped by the Indian house in Gokulum where Pam and Deb live and took a peek inside. Their Indian “mom” (the older sister of the house) told me there was a room for rent there, encouraging me to move in! I had to break it to her that I’m leaving Saturday. She seemed sad (no income!) but I was too. It would be so easy to move in and stay for 3 months (6 months!) like many yoga students do…
Then I think of home and in many ways I can’t wait to get back! I miss friends and family (…and a certain young man). And, as you all know, I miss sushi and flush toilets and TV and all of that. But I also very much miss my career. I realize how attached to it I am! I miss the creative energy Liz and I have when working together; I miss going after jobs and just being in the thick of the entertainment industry. So many of the yoga students here only have some sort of “day job” in the West and quit when they’ve saved enough money to come here. As much as I’m devoted to yoga, I’m NOT devoted enough to give up a fulfilling and rewarding career! J And while I’ve adapted to the simple life, I miss certain freedoms in the West. The career is case in point – only men write movies in India; it’d be an unheard of job for women. I want to walk down the street – bare shouldered no less – and not get hassled or stared at. I think I (like everyone) take America’s “freedoms” for granted. I truly can do anything I want (within the law) and be anything I want. NOT liberties women have in India. And for that, I’m grateful…and grateful to be going home.
September 3, 7:45 am
Just got back from my final yoga practice. As our Israeli friend Rotem would say, I felt “full power” today! Everyone was hugging and kissing Guruji (feet and cheek) goodbye after class; we also said thank you to Sharath and Saraswati. As Laura noted, it really felt like the “end of the semester” since the Shala is closing for two weeks and most students are taking off. I took another photo with Gurjui and he TWICE asked me if I’d be here when he got back from vacation! I said unfortunately no, but that I’m Noah and Kimberly’s student and I’d see him in Los Angeles on his next world tour! He’s so cute. I’m sure I’m not supposed to say that about my learned, wise, and even holy 90-year-old Guru, but it’s true! He’s just adorable. A true bright spirit and energy radiates from him. I am fortunate to be able to study yoga with him.
September 4, 4:45 am
Can’t sleep. What a “call back” to my FIRST night in Mysore, when I was up at the same time! Waiting for the temple devotional music to kick in.
Had a perfectly Colonial send-off evening. Lee brought goodies from England with him – olive tapenade, cheese, crackers, roasted peppers and a bottle of Pinot Grigio, which we noshed on in the Green Hotel TV room. We met a doctor from England, Simon, working in India (also a guest of the Green Hotel), and he joined us for dinner. Okay, fine, Laura and I had Chinese food, not that Colonial. But the waiter said to us, “Gin and tonics?” I’d never had one in my life but it’s all the Brits drank during Colonial times in Africa and India – tonic used to be made of quinine which wards off malaria. Laura and I said sure (the guys had beers) even though the gin here is synthetic! India has strict laws about importing liquor and distill their own, made-up brands. I’d say it wasn’t too bad but I don’t have much gin experience to compare it to! Later, Krishna drove me home on a scooter instead of the rickshaw. (There’s been some problems with his rickshaw – it’s rented and the owner wants it back so Krishna is in the process of leasing a new one.) There are no helmet laws here (sorry for those worried about my head on the pavement like a ripe melon!); it’s very liberating to drive through the Mysore city streets with the night wind in your hair! I will miss this place. Although I’m guessing my inability to sleep is excitement about going home.
Later today is the big send off lunch at the 3 Sisters; we’re also celebrating Pam’s 30th birthday three weeks early since Laura and I won’t be here for it. Harini even made sure she had no massages so she can join us for lunch! (Goodbye lunch pix will be posted when I return to America, post Labor Day.) Then Krishna, driver Kumar, and I are off in the car for Bangalore come 4 o’clock. Krishna has been so wonderful to me, I’d love to give him a goodbye hug at the airport. But I suspect that’s totally improper. Should I shake his hand? (Indians don’t really shake hands – they press their hands together and bow to one another or in certain cases, you get down on the ground and kiss feet.) I suppose I’ll figure it out when the time comes! My flight leaves from Bangalore at 11:45 pm, connecting through Singapore, and I’m back in Los Angeles at 1 pm on Sunday.
Goodbye, India!
posted by Hilary @ 10:32 AM
Friday, September 03, 2004
Typewriter Alley - that's my name for this street. Many Indians can't read or write, much less have a computer. So when they need an official letter or document created, they come to shops on this street where typists will take dictation and turn out a document for you.
posted by Hilary @ 10:44 PM
Everyone out on the street in front of the Shala, following the last day of practice
posted by Hilary @ 10:43 PM
Smiley me and Guruji! (Right after practice, hence why I'm a little sweaty and shiny!)
posted by Hilary @ 10:42 PM
Everyone getting ready for our last lead yoga class before Guruji goes on vacation!
posted by Hilary @ 10:42 PM
Women's changing room at the Shala; for those who know, that's Amanda and Melanie talking
posted by Hilary @ 10:41 PM
Self portrait on the morning of my last practice with Guruji (taken about 4 am)
posted by Hilary @ 10:40 PM
