Bandhalogues

Moonscape Montage

2011-12-09T18:33:00.000+05:30


freight sacks flung along tracks await

time to go nearly
but has not come yet

another trip around the square
returns to the source
another Moonscape
gives rise to the dawn

awakened from slumber the trail pulls the beads along
we the Mala become the song
follow walking mantra
we the beads restrung then gone
again cast to storms
again scattered
then home

but close your eyes for a moment
and you are back
in what feels like the dream

now found the stage awaits
no spotlight to guide the way
step forward and claim the day
sift the slumber
the dream fades
today is what is left in the palm

what use is time if not linear
a bucket full of minutes spilled
cannot be saved
a flower cannot rejoin the branch
but beauty there is in a bunch
filling the vessel is its own task
to experience

time to go
time to wait a moment
catch a breath
be inside while the rest
goes without
now is the moment
the dream pulls off the mask of disbelief
reality was hiding all along
but the path remains the same

aeryk

Authorized!

2011-12-06T19:49:00.000+05:30

One year of study, five years of chaos. Aeryk got one too.

It is official. Aeryk and I have the full blessing of Sharath and "the Institute" to teach the Ashtanga practice. We have studied at the Shala for a piece of every calendar year since 2006, four trips in five years. If you look carefully at the picture, you will see above my name "Level 2". That's sort of like a "masters degree" instead of a 'bachelor's". Its no Ph.d; that's called Certified. If you look below my name it says I can teach the full Intermediate series. That's kind of amazing to me. A couple of years ago only Certified teachers, of whom there are really very few in the world, were allowed to teach anything beyond primary series. Now Sharath is expanding the territory of some of his authorized teachers to include more of the practice. I am really excited to have the level 2 designation. The most exciting part of all for me is that Sharath has asked me to assist classes in the Shala in Mysore for one month. Now, he asked me to assist starting in mid December until mid January. Of course, I fly out of here on the 16th. I know everyone back home is waiting for me...I can hardly stay here for another month! So, painfully, I had to decline. On the bright side, Sharath says I should come back next year and I can assist then. Soooo....I guess I'll be coming back soon. I am grateful to Frank Groundwater who first convinced me I could go to India. Also to Colleen Swantner, my first Ashtanga teacher, and David Garrigues, my ongoing inspiration. I am extremely thankful for the sacrifices of all my friends, family, and students whom I lean upon extensively to make these trips possible. It is hard to conceive of adjusting students in the same room where Guruji gave me my first Mysore backbends. I guess I had better go home and practice! Vivian

Playback at the I Can School!

2011-11-16T18:16:00.041+05:30

I Can...scream!

Welcome to school

Aeryk may have you believing his time is all rock shows and eating dosas, but this is not so!

Aeryk also eats school lunch.

We have yoga in the morning, chanting class, and on some of our days here in Mysore we can be found at the I Can School teaching Playback Theater to all ages. Now, by "we...teaching" I mean, Aeryk teaching, and me carrying his bags, herding and playing with children, and doing my best to keep up with his whirlwind pace.

In the huddle with the actors

We have led two weekend workshops for teachers, and spent one long (for me!) day at school teaching batches of various grades of enthusiastic school children...and we are back for more this week. The youngest group includes around 26 5-year-olds. They are full of energy, but also so well behaved that once they form a circle we have a hard time breaking its shape. The five-year-olds aren't really sophisticated enough for real playback, but they have no problem roaring like lions, jumping, dancing, and expressing. The student groups topped out with 13 year olds, who were capable of more complex games, and actually listening to each other.

The I Can School is a non traditional school that has grown from one woman's dream for educating her own children to a gorgeous facility teaching over 130 young people and offering a very full spectrum of classes.... now, including playback!

Exploring fluid sculptures....

Now they've got it!

Even the shyest actors shine.

Round II: Aeryk teaches "Pairs" with a musician.

We have worked with over a dozen teachers, playing games, and teaching playback short forms. Like most Indian people, they toss away inhibitions readily, and jump right in with lots of laughter and a few tears. We've had fun, and I've learned a lot. Playback is Aeryk's comfort zone, but it isn't mine, so these classes have stretched me more than a yoga class.

Vivian

Stay after school to play in the sandbox - It's Awesome!

Passing Thoughts

2011-11-16T17:20:00.001+05:30

A festive pharmacy on every block

In general we feel well. The constant warmth is allowing our bodies to begin their overdue rest and repair. However, Sharath has an agenda of growth. Backbends have been deep without the usual time to prepare as back home. He is usually standing on our mats after the 3rd drop-back if not sooner. The final bends are quick. Really- one, two, three GRAB! Vivian is standing on her own (even with all the shala assistants as well), I am being taken up my shins until I relax. Every day, more is coming! I've decided that the Shala's led Intermediate class is the hardest ongoing yoga class in the World, with these few top yogis struggling and shining with effort you'd only see from Olympic-level athletes. Truly inspiring, and an honor to participate. I am thankful that it is only ONE day a week, though.

Word of the Month: Afforestation

Wild horses still roam Mysore

Bouganvillia flowers on the tree

3' tall coil ready for sale

We are halfway done with our trip, not ready to fully reflect and yet always challenged to live in the moment. We are walking, reading, chanting, doing crosswords and have a few projects spinning. I played Didgeridoo as part of a kirtan Sunday night along with voice/harmonium, flute, and tablas. A great experience that may lead to more. We have a Thanksgiving trip planned to Tiruvannamalai and the holy mountain Arunachala. Last trip we walked the 9 miles barefoot, this time we are not going during a festival. We are house-scouting for a friend who will rent in winter, and it's a free trip for us! It is helpful to experience such places not only a number of times, but through different perspectives.

aeryk

School's out when the gatekeeper says so.

Roadwork and Hooligans

2011-11-15T20:04:00.000+05:30

Here's one of my favorite 'Rickshots.' There is redevelopment happening on the main road from Gokulam leading downtown just before the railway station.
In the rezoning process, they razed this intersection to make a smoother transition before the train bridge 30 feet later. You can see where the old road was. They paved around this island and left the power line intact. As there is no signage, you just have to know that it's there and people drive in both directions on both sides. Murals have been recently painted along a quarter-mile stretch of wall supporting the pedestrian area and overpass/bridge reflecting scenes of Karnataka patriotism.

One of the longer single murals.


Remember, you're still driving...

Our new favorite place to have lunch is Authana. They advertize their scene as "hygenic and healthy' and it's true! I took Yarrow there years ago for an evening mix of Chinese-American and Indian and thought the place was rustic with potential, and they have spiffed-up the place since. Their raised outdoor area has wrap-around covering with an open space in the middle so you can enjoy a downpour. You are also surrounded by bamboo and other greens. for lunch the thali is excellent and the staff knows our routine and always supply us with what we need plus extras. Except last weekend. We showed up for their "Hoolige Brunch" which cost double our thalis, but reportedly had more stuff. It did, like ice cream. Nonetheless, we were treated to a banana-leaf and several first course entres. These were the thick khoot stew and several palya; fresh/raw veg medleys with coconut shreds and spices. Not seen in the pic is two more piles plus a dollop of lime-pickle. The fermented condiment is almost always added, and requires an acquired taste. On our first trip, I mistakenly ATE a lime chunk, then couldn't touch the stuff for five years. Seriously. Now I love it dabbed on a roti and eaten with the palya.

Khoot, palyas,and roti on a leaf. 'Hoolige' on the plate.

Then the rice, sambar and the rest arrived. By this time we had already eaten most of the first round and could not have waited to take a picture. They stopped by to top-off our piles, but we were getting full. Last we ate the namesake: "The Hoolige." This was a roti stuffed with jaggery then cooked. If you haven't tried jaggery, it's raw sugar product that tastes like a cross between brown sugar and honey. The magnificent treat was good in the way that you won't want another. We've stopped by for thalis several times since, but have not made it back for the Hooligan Special, as we now call it.

aeryk

Rickshot: Roadside tiffin stand serving Hooligan's...

How to do a Show in India: A Rocker's Primer

2011-11-08T16:13:00.001+05:30

I only had time for high-5's & a few pics before my train...

Let's say you want to attend a musical performance in a foreign land. Let's say the event in question is a large outdoor event bringing in over 55,000 attendees. Let's say for the sake of argument that this is a western heavy metal rock show. "Whoahhh... " you may be thinking. Then you picture yourself there at the stadium, maybe even right up WITH the band, screaming along to ALL the hits...

But how do you get there from here?

First off, be cool. Know that this is your music and these are your people. Here are a few tips for having a great night and making it back safely.

Buy your tickets in advance even if you haven't bought your plane tickets yet.
Use a credit card. If the show gets cancelled for any reason you will have a paper trail to get a refund or attend a make-up gig.
Get train tickets in advance. They book up quick on weekends and holidays, and every day is a holiday somewhere in India. Get a couple different return tickets so you're flexible with the timing of the show's end. (always stay for the encore) Train tickets can be refunded, but you can generally 'write-off' the $5 loss emotionally while safely tucked in your sleeper bed at the end of your journey. Friends may offer to pay for a cab ride, but you'll need your rest and a 4-hour taxi is the opposite.
Wear black.
Pack sunglasses, a flashlight, jacket, water and snacks.
No bags. They won't let them in the arena.
Always travel with a Rock-Buddy you trust; someone who knows how to handle these types of shows and crowds. Pick one that reminds you of Hunter S.Thompson or his Attorney for best results.
Give yourself extra time to find your train car. It will be at the other end, always. You can trade seats once the train gets moving, especially if there are three different numbers posted on your seat, and others do it.
Sleep. It's the last you'll get for 13 hours.
Never take the first rickshaw at the train station. They will be overpriced and not know where you want to go. The correct driver in the bunch is the first one who mentions the event you are attending. Haggle then walk away. Their price will come down. Since they will not be on their meter (always broken at the train station) a fixed price guarantees they will want to drop you off ASAP. Make sure they get you close to the main entrance.
Here are your people. Put on your shades. If you have tattoos, wear them proudly as they will add to the mystique of the event. Dive into the sea of black rock shirts, 2/3 of which will have the headlining band featured. The others are actually more interesting; Pantera, Cradle of Filth, Jim Morrison, System of a Down, Pink Floyd, Jane's Addiction, Iron Maiden- to represent a few other bands these boys would be listening to on another night. The small population of females will always contrast this by NOT wearing concert shirts 2/3 of the time. Indian women especially tend to dress up for such an event.
Do not stand in line outside the stadium.
Go to the front gate. Tell them you are "International" and you will be let in quickly.
Once inside, do not stand in the will-call line. There will be 200 people here. Walk around until you find the International ticket counter. You will be next. Present your ID and Validation Papers to sign for your tickets. Good job! You will have hours before the show and main doors open. Leave the stadium.
Now that you have tickets and spare time, get your mindset for the show. Take a walk, enjoy the neighborhood. After the show it will be a blur. A rickshaw driver on the clock can always show you a nearby restaurant. Usually the second establishment around the corner is better and cheaper. If there is a bar nearby you can encourage your friend to have a beer on the sidewalk with the other rockers, adding to the mystique. After you've had your fill, get dropped off at the main gate and go right in. Once again inside you will encounter a large mass of fans that surges forward and becomes denser as time passes. Don't panic, they can sense your fear.
This next part is important: DO NOT RIOT.
Delhi had trouble with this one. Admittedly, there were extenuating circumstances. Security barriers were not able to be set in place in front of the stage, the show was delayed then cancelled, and the fans were the last to know after waiting for hours. I will say it again-- pre-pay with a credit card. Four promoters were jailed for their participation (or lack of) in the miscommunication and cover-up resulting in thousands of fans not getting a show or a refund if they paid cash. If you do riot, never trash the band's gear. They will have another show soon.
Do not trust the first thirty outbreaks of screams. The doors are not open, somebody just wants a great crowd photo. Same with the sound check. It will take an hour for the crowd to get through the first checkpoint. This will give everyone a chance to check out your tats and talk about the music from back home. They will think you too are in a band and that you know other bands. Let them know this is so. You have a mystique to keep up on. You will pass through many lines and go through many gates before anybody asks for your ticket. This will be countered by several pat-down searches along the way. Don't worry. If you're a pro you're either not carrying contraband or it's safely stowed. Someone else will always have something.
Drink coffee but don't eat.
Buy a concert shirt but don't wear it until tomorrow.
Pay the extra cash to get one with the band and the event on it.

A souvenir you can wear to the next concert.

Hey, Richard Marx and Backstreet Boys: screw up a festival and you won't get on the next T-shirt!

Find a good spot early. If you're on the edge of the crowd and you find something to stand on, keep it.You and your Rock Buddy can take turns guarding the real estate. If security staff are using a nearby wall as a restroom, so can you. If police officers are taking tables just like yours from a stack nearby you can help yourself to more when they leave. Creating a row of tables to stand on normalizes the situation, especially if the family you share the tables with know the promoters and security staff. Be helpful to your new family, they can make or break a good experience.
Announcers will remind you of what happened at the cancelled show and ask you to not lose your cool. Don't lose your cool.
You've probably never heard of the opening act before and never will again. They will be too loud and their songs too long. The first ten seconds will sound nothing like the rest of the song because they are artists who refuse to fall into a category. Those ten seconds will be the best part.
You will be swept up in the hysteria when The Band starts playing. It is now OK to lose your cool a bit, just don't fall off your table. Plain sight is sometimes the best place to hide illicit activities, but keep it discreet and always wait until the show starts.
It is good to know all the songs and all the lyrics. It is not good to scream them, unless the Band specifically asks you to. (most bands have one song they need your personal help with)
Headbanging is OK.
So is stomping, fist-pounding, waving and showing the 'devil-hand' which actually wards OFF the evil eye. Jumping is fine, but no mosh pits in India. Their cops all have well worn sticks.
Stay for the encore, maybe the second. There will be no third encore.
If your spot is near the VIP zone you can use their quick exit behind the curtain and beat 50,000 fans to the streets. Walk a couple of blocks from the stadium to hail a rickshaw. Relax knowing you already have sold-out train tickets for home. Buy water and snacks at the train station. You can use your bottle as a pillow in your sleeper.
The waiting rickshaws will try to rip you off. Let them a little- you're tired and you have extra change for the ride home.
Shower and have coffee.
Rush to the Shala and get on your mat.
Do yoga.

Lights, sound, stage, instruments... everything but the band ready to roll.

aeryk

Diwali, and Why Haven't I Written Lately?

2011-11-03T17:03:00.000+05:30

Flower wallahs tending coils

Jasmine surrounds Om and Ganesh

Sand and flower Rangoli

Diwali celebrates Rama's triumph over the evil Demon Ravana. Thus, in Man's dark time the God's brought forth fire to illuminate in reality and symbol this communal gift to be shared. Many faiths, peoples, and religions have an element of this and enact it with the lighting of a candle. India is similar in this respect, but differs in not stopping there. Candles are placed at the front door to keep out spirits and so that you can find your way home once the shelling starts. This is important because this is a five-day event, and the fireworks start on day one. India doesn't have a 4th of July per se, nor do they live it up on New Years as Americans do. But for Diwali, even the youngest of the young and the smallest of the small get to light the brightest, loudest, cherry cherry-est bombs of them all. This starts promptly at 6pm and lets up around midnight. We still get up at 2am. All the stone houses echo the glee and delight of the season.

Bedroom view of the winds

As I write, I expect the power to go out. It has been great actually, only failing for a few minutes at a time only a few times in three weeks. But the monsoon is still upon us- light as it is as far as monsoons go- but rain shadows our every move. It's hard to be homesick in that way, although it is warmer. Our laundry capabilities have diminished, our long walks have turned to quick scampers, but we've become good at predicting when the storm will hit. It's been hard to feel creative or even to talk about nothing. I've been playing a lot of rock music stored on the laptop in the afternoons, and the Seattle sound of Soundgarden seems to sooth the soaked parts of my psyche. I've even broken out Mozart's Requiem on one particular grey day. Two movie soundtracks, Donnie Darko and The Sorcerer (Tangerine Dream) offer a reminder of my mellow-spooky Butohsoul and are in heavy rotation compared to the peppy Slumdog Millionaire played halfway through only once. All this because my MP3 died. Or rather it's in "recovery" and until it gets a re-boot from the disc at home, it's having withdrawl and can't go on.That's where all my Tool is, and most of my chanting tracks. Fate. I was here when Slumdog came out, and now I'm here when a real "Slumdog Millionaire" actually wins One-M for the first time on the show. I need to slow down and keep it all in perspective, and try to stay in the middle. And remember to talk about it once in a while.

"Don't screw me Jagdesh, 20 kilos of Marigolds..."

Aeryk

First Week Shala Report

2011-10-22T14:51:00.000+05:30

The opening week of Shala season always begins with a week of primary series for all students. Boring for some, relieving for others, and of course, making no difference for new students who will practice only primary for their first month in any case...if they even make it all the way through.

For us, I think it has been an opportunity to acclimate physically and mentally back to life in India. There are always plenty of opportunities for frustration just getting life set up here - if you are inclined to frustration. Otherwise lots of opportunity to practice an easy going relaxed attitude while some of your basic life needs waver occasionally into doubt. No running water today? Well, I'm sure there will be someone along to fix that by the time I need to shower tomorrow. No power? The "fellow" is at festival right now according to my landlord. He will fix "the current" when he gets back, no need to worry about when. I have a headlamp. Drinking water delivery can't be reached...and the public phone eats all my rupee coins? No problem, Aeryk will carry jugs to a store and drive some water home by rikshaw. Drink a coconut for now.

Primary series fits in well with jet lag, muscles cramped from long plane rides, and life's little challenges. Just pick up, jump back, jump through, inhale, exhale. If something doesn't come out according to plan, no problem -vinyasa is coming, a wave to ride you past your small troubles.

Sharath started the whole Shala on three days of led class, two Mysore style primary series, and back to led again. Also, happily, he has added a late morning chanting class for all students with enough time for breakfast and a nap. We will start next week with one more day of led Primary, and then we will all be set off to our own prescribed practice. I hope I can still backbend....but if I can't I'm sure I will find my way in time.

Vivian

Fruit for Thought

2011-10-20T18:45:00.000+05:30


The exotic fruit plate still costs under two bucks

Right now is a good time to be in Mysore for fruit lovers. The Papaya is fresh and cheap, as are the small bananas. Vivian loves it here for that- she can't eat bananas at home after a few months of 'banana season.' Pomegranates are available but pricey. By that I mean India-pricey. When I left, Ralph's Thriftway was having the red fruit on sale for $3. mine cost 75 cents. What I love most about the fruit situation here is that you can get it most anywhere. Nearly every street will have a produce vendor set up at a shop, or a basket at the counter, or a cart full at the street corner. You can be safe to eat anything with a skin on it if you're on the road somewhere and need a snack. Cut fruit is usually kept 'fresh' by the vendor's constant moistening with tap-water. Trust me-- that's not tap-water we are used to. But back to my point, and the picture. We have a special fruit family we buy from as we have for six years. They have a cart conveniently located between the Ganesh Temple and the coconut stand, just down the road from everything. They were more convenient when we lived two blocks away, but still worth the 8-block trek. They always insist on picking the fruit out themselves, or HE picks it out, SHE weighs it, bags it, and takes our cash. We always get the freshest 'today' fruit or occasionally for 'tomorrow.' He has a way of knowing when food will die. Kind of a cross between dog-whisperer and the Dead Zone. Again back to the point- yesterday he gave me (free!) a piece of the grenade-looking thing on the plate. He said to pry it open and eat it. Simple enough. I like direction, especially with alien substances. The texture is like elephant skin holding jelly-- rough hide but soft and squishy. Weird. I thought it would go bad before the night was out as it started leaking. Fruit isn't supposed to leak. The inside revealed a series of large seeds inside their own membrane sack, the whole of which was surrounded with goo. I took several pods in my mouth as the fruit nearly exploded, and was suprised! The seed casings were sweet like flowers or incense and under them I scraped out about a quarter-inch of goo that some describe as custard-like. The texture and taste resembles sugar! Hence the street name of sugar apples. I'm not saying that I'm addicted yet, I just don't WAN'T to stop right now. I'm up to two a day and I've already gone back for more and paid for them this time.

aeryk

Best. Article. So Far.

2011-10-18T19:28:00.000+05:30

I stop reading Seattle's weekly freebie The Stranger about a week before I leave for India. This is because I once tried taking one with me to prevent homesickness, but reading about local shows and happenstances didn't make me feel much of anything, actually. I was way more interested in the world in front of me. That being said, I crave the written word (in English) and storyline, so I seek out news of the world. I still check in on the Seattle Times, but I try to get some of my daily info through the local newspapers. Most of what I read has nothing to do with me, especially the politically expressive Times of India, with it's coverage of National events and figureheads. Some news beyond the Motherland filters in, and often there is a slant to the writing or selective re-reporting via the internet allows for the sensational tidbits to represent all you need to know about what goes on over THERE. My favorite is the smaller Star of Mysore, the local offer combining the best of the Times and the Weekly World News. You heard me right, the 'bat-boy' rag. This is what I found on day three here.

I don't even know what to say about this one.

aeryk

Mysore Market Montage

2011-10-16T10:03:00.000+05:30

Looking South at the market corner

East leads to more goods

Rickshaws wait to the North

East entrance (no goats, please)

Yesterday, Saturday, Market Day

first time away

yet barely arrived

freshly unpacked

rickshaw sideshow delivers

new views of familiar spaces

tangled traffic's sea of faces

overflow my oculi

tear to lens

smears my fading memory...

Kinda wish I hadn't seen that

Crank-press sugarcane stall

The dancing ladies dream begins again

More 'Rickshots' to follow.

aeryk

Back To The Source

2011-10-15T11:43:00.000+05:30

Family Portrait: Shiva, Parvati, Ganesh

Yes, we made it.
Air France is not British Airways. By that, I mean our trip was less trauma-filled than ever. Tom arrived on time to pick us up, and we were mostly ready. Our half hour delayed first flight daunted us not. It is true that our connecting flight departed two hours after arrival, but I found myself in a state of TravelZen. I was unhurried through the lines, un-stressed during the security gates, and unfazed when they pulled me aside to re-search and x-ray my backpack item by item. Oh, yeah. I had packed my electronic looper, sound processor, microphone, and 35 feet of coiled instrument & mic cables, as well as the supporting power supplies. THAT must have looked fun in the X-rays.
The flight was on par with BA service-wise. The male flight attendants were perkier here. They really wanted you to think they were there for you. And they were! And when they weren't, one could get up and self-serve their own dang drink at the back of the plane. BA didn't offer that. They also didn't try to drown me with wine & champagne like the French. Obligatory with every meal was the mini baguette, even if it was Indian Veg. That beat the BA beans for breakfast...
My point was not to slam British Airways, only to say that my perspective was different. Clearly the French DON'T know everything about Arts and Entertainments, because their in-flight video selection was sub-par and hard to navigate. Die Hard and Rainman? OK, you need a little retro action/adventure/disaster movie and the feel-good Tom Cruise moment at times, but not 39,000 feet above Istanbul. That's all I'm saying.

Roof-top solar heaters seen from our bedroom.

Shiva is awesome. I called him 3 days prior to set up a ride and a place to stay. Our 4:30am Mysore arrival coincided with the arrival of another party waiting for their second carload, and our drivers sorted it out for us outside the Ganesh Temple. We were taken to a house, unloaded our stuff for the night, then loaded back up and moved to another house. The parties got mixed-up. It didn't matter as this was just a one-night stay that cost us $12. Our other option was the Green Hotel @ $120 or so. In the morning were connected to our new landlord and top-floor pad in a quieter part of upper Gokulam. Fortunately, I was still in a state of TravelZen when began our multi-day quest to retrieve our trunks of supplies left at our last residence, register at the shala, and begin the next phase of our lives.

aeryk

Final Thoughts @ the 11th Hour

2010-04-01T23:40:00.000+05:30

Drawing water from the hillside well. Tiruvannamalai, India.

We leave in 30 minutes.

We are mostly packed and have been all day, which is good. Even making the last minute errands we are stopped for a hello & goodbye, taking even more cherished yet valuable time. It is our bedtime, actually was 3 hours ago, but all is well. Soon experiences will become memories and memories will become favorite stories. Thank you all for your support, whatever form that took. I hope this time here for anyone who wants it. Peace, love, see ya soon!

aeryk

Ladies, enough with the 'frightening cream.'

Joining the Human Garland

2010-03-31T16:55:00.000+05:30

How many pilgrims does it take to encircle a mountain nine miles around, in a chaotic twelve to twenty body wide ring? Once the decision was made to join the human garland there was no turning back, no choice but to continue onward all the way around. We were there to celebrate Siva in his fire aspect, entering an extremely old tradition in the deep south of India to spend the full moon night walking barefoot all the way around the base of Mt. Arunachala. Like any other event in India, there is a fabulous mix of the sacred with pure festive carnival fun. Aside from merely walking, there were dozens of temples and holy sites along the path at which to pray, touch fire, offer, or whisper in the ears of the gods.

An Artist's Impermanent Honoring of Hanuman

We started out boldly, yet lamely, Aeryk with a freshly broken toe, and both of us with feet burned by the blazing mountain stairs from earlier in the 105 degree day. Night made a better climate for a hike, but I'll admit the pain started in the first kilometer and I was inwardly whiny on and off. I prayed to Siva for the strength to endure the pain, since completion of the loop was past the time of choice. We were swept by the joyous crowd, and kept the pace. Many pilgrims fast for this, but clearly not all, as vendors are everywhere selling roasted corn, fresh juices, coconuts, and even tupperware(?!?) and other "impulse" buys.

A Friendly Face from the Road (daytime)

While some walkers rang little bells and chanted their way around, others in pure devoted silence, those chatting with their companions were also not out of place. We experienced, alternately, kilometers of pure joy and amazement, kilometers of suffering, followed by bliss again. I experienced real fear just once, as we reached the ground zero of Tiruvannamalai's famous temple complex, as hundreds massed around a huge fire at an entrance. We were being simultaneously pushed by those wanting to get closer to the fire, those who had been pushed too close and were trying to get away unharmed, and those just trying to get around the circuit. I had a few moments in which I understood how easy it would be to get swept underfoot and trampled by the crowd, as does happen a few times each year at Indian religious gatherings.

Touch the Fire - one of hundreds of little prayer flames around the Mountain

All along the journey there were beggars and holy men looking for handouts, and in keeping with tradition we were fairly free with the rupees. I was unprepared nonetheless for the encampment of human suffering lined up just past the temple on the trail lying in the street mostly unable to jangle their bowls or do more than cry out - and some beyond even outcry. People with fresh amputations, deformed limbs, diseases horrific to witness, some must have been put there with bowls for they surely couldn't get themselves anywhere. I resolved then I'd better suck it up and quit my whining...I'm lucky to have two feet that get to feel this pain.

Amazingly, when we awoke the next morning after our four hour barefoot hike we felt great. Good enough to enjoy an outdoor yoga practice on "Siva's Lap" at the foot of the mountain. Maybe it's full moon magic, but we found ourselves energetic and ready to walk some more, hike to caves, untroubled by the blazing summer heat.

Now we are back in Mysore, packing to come home. Miraculously it has rained...the first real rain since we arrived, and the day feels cool, almost like home. It makes me feel truly ready to be back in Oly.

One Step at a Time

2010-03-31T15:37:00.001+05:30

The view from near the caves...

I can see why the rishis men like it up here. The holy mountain Arunachala is said to have healing powers. Even thinking on the majesty of the sacred hill and it's temple can confer benefits to the body, mind, and soul as it has 'since time immemorial' as the books say. We gave it a shot. We burned our feet scrambling up to check out the caves, home to the Ramana Maharishi and his mother when they lived there. We found out later that barefootedness is NOT required to scale the hill, only most auspicious for the circumnambulation. The caves are an amazing contrast to the bustling 'sleeping village' we expected to find. Our timing was excellent- after exerting ourselves all day, we learned the full moon walk around was scheduled for Monday, not Tuesday. After 5 miles of dayhike, we rested poolside and prepared to do the 9 mile circuit.

A garland of 10,000 pilgrims encircles Shiva's Mountain.

This was the scene as we hit the road. We figured starting @ 7;30pm was the best strategy to get done by midnight. By 8am the auspiciousness of the event would be over. I had no idea that in the 4 hours we decided to do this that the population would swell. It was like getting out of a concert, walking in a parade, and being at the county fair all in one. Vendors lined the street, housewives cooked from their stoops offering tiffin meals for the 4-6 guests she had room for. All the ashrams and temples were open and lit up.

#4,389... #4,389... now serving #4,389...

Keep in mind that we have been overloaded with trains, busses, rickshaws, and countless beggars and saddhus to navigate through. With my toe, I should have stayed home and propped up my foot. But this is India!

Maybe I should have had THIS guy check out my foot.

We actually survived. The next morning it was as if it were a dream; no vendors, bus lots empty, some garbage, but mostly life back to normal. Our feet hurt and tired, survived with only minor damage. It felt like they were getting tattooed for those 4 hours. But that's how you do it here. You just keep walking. Our trip continued to have ups and downs. We saved $20 by taking busses instead of taxis, but were given bad info half the time. There always seems to be somebody to help out though, if like the mountain one stands quiet and listens to the wisdom coming up the hills from the temples.

If this express bus stops, don't get on...

aeryk

I'm no doctor, but I know what sucks...

2010-03-26T22:28:00.001+05:30

Tanlines mean uneven sun exposure, swelling means soft tissue damage, red streak on the inside pinky-toe means it's broken.

I am officially tired of bucket baths. I still enjoy the novelty, I just don't trust them. Yesterday Vivian was bucket-bathing when she slipped off her stool, landing on her tailbone. She is fine, but was amazed at the pain the 6" drop caused. I stepped out of a cracked bucket, didn't quite clear it, and heard the bucket crack further. Yeah, that's what I heard. The bucket really was more cracked, and after walking it off for a few hours I admitted that the toe was as well. It's not the first time I've broken a toe, but it has been about 30 years since this has happened. I'm doing well going slow in sandals, but I have only one week to get ready for shoes. I attended the led primary class today, with only slight modifications like Janu Sirsasana-C and every jumpback. We have a final bit of minor travel before we end here, and had just finished finalizing reservations and train tickets when the toe thing happened. And we were supposed to climb Chamundi Hill, the 1000-step beacon in the south of Mysore today. That will wait, but our Tamil Nadu trip to Tiruvannamalai will include a 8 1/2 mile walk around the holy mountain Arunanchala. You can google those to see pics, or wait until we get back! This is one of the most sacred sites in India. (they all say that) There are ashrams, caves, temples, shrines, lingams, and much more fun to see as we join thousands of pilgrims observing giripradakshina, or going around the mountain, which is the personification of Siva himself! All ills are said to be cured, even insanity and past sins, so it's gotta be good for my toe. All I must do is catch a rickshaw, take two trains, arrange a ride 100km south, and check into the hotel before something else happens. If it does, I'll be off to another temple.

aeryk

Walking through the Hood

2010-03-25T20:05:00.003+05:30

It's either a Purple Moorhen aka 'the acid turkey' or a snipe...

Trying to catch these guys in all their color-changing splendor gives me empathy for the Bigfoot hunters. Even if you see one it doesn't mean the lighting is right, or you are close enough, or the camera is steady, or that they will stay in the shot. All it means is that you've had another one-that-got-away encounter. Vivian caught up to this lady who was five feet off the ground climbing through some reeds. You can make out several shades of purplish-blue (guaranteed to have changed by the next shot) and the red crown. I'm done talking about them, just like all y'all are probably tired of hearing the coconut report. We actually do more than walk, yoga, and eat. We just don't take enough pictures, apparently.

I bet this guy lights the disco ball on the Full Moon.

Here are a few shots of some of the coolest abodes on one of our favorite streets. This one belongs to an astrologer. It has Buddhist overtones with a stunning mirrored living room. Full glass panes are still quite rare. Most windows still have bars on the open windows, covered with old-school shutters. This house probably has AC and a generator.

Three colors, two views, one set of shadows

Last year I shot pictures of this place being renovated, with it's stick scaffolding and piles if bricks, blocks, and sand like all the other work sites. This rambler feels like Fred Flintstone meets 2001. Simple lines hiding complex ideas. This next gem across the street needs a whole day to shoot, but there is always somebody staring when I walk by. Turrets, brickwork, porthole windows, a mural on the side wall, and the craziest gate on the block inspire me to rate this as one of the top homes in Mysore.

Things aren't all getting bigger and better. On the way home from outings I often pass by the loneliest clothes merchant in one of the tiniest shops I've seen yet. They are at risk of being overwhelmed by their own parking lot. I'm not sure that the second, larger sign is helping...They have T-shirts and men's underwear displayed out front.

The root of the problem of these small ma-and-pa shops going under isn't only about the economic turndowns, corporate advertising and availability, access to stronger trading of product. It's just not great fashion for these kids of today.

Hey Mysore, the eighties called. They want their style back...

aeryk

Saluting the Sun at the Mysore Palace

2010-03-18T14:28:00.001+05:30

Over 200 Yogis Join to Benefit Odanadi Seva Trust

This week, instead of sleeping in, our Mysore Ashtanga community spent the morning at the Mysore Palace, on the mat in full sun. We have heard that Ashtanga yogis in over 30 countries around the world joined us to practice 108 sun salutations on this day to benefit Odanadi, an organization that rescues and rehabilitates children and women from situations of human trafficking.
Aeryk and I donated money, bought the shirts, and rolled out our mats between young
participants who have been taught Ashtanga yoga as part of their amazing rehabilitation program.

Aeryk makes new yoga friends - Lots of them!

These young yogis rushed to meet us with great enthusiasm. Bursting with excitement about the event, most of them were to have an opportunity to lead a sun salutation for the first time. One fourteen year old confided she had been practicing hard to be in shape for this event. They told us about their home at Odanadi, and their program that teaches them yoga, art, theater, and dance as well as traditional schooling.

Me and my Friends getting ready to rock out Surya Namaskara

Having attended many concerts, dramas, and art programs in India I knew to expect that the start time might be somewhat flexible. I also knew that no performance or event can happen here without a panel of speeches to come first. I was prepared to be patient. Some of the other Westerners did not come with that expectation, and as the morning sun started to heat up our mats some of them looked nervous.
Once we got going, things went fairly smoothly. Each Odanadi youth called a salutation, and each one was a little unique. They were mostly fast paced, but then I think we were all hoping to get through them before the sun god Surya took our homage too seriously.

Rangoli and Flowers in front of our Mats

It was a beautiful event to be part of, and though we did not wind up doing as many salutations as the studios participating worldwide, I like to think ours were special enough to make up for not completing the full cycle. It was a beautiful morning to be a part of. Any who read this blog should go to the website www.yogastopstraffick.org to check it out. If you watch the wonderful video you will see the young people we practiced with. It feels really good to be part of a yoga movement that puts good back out into the world, and to see the role our yoga can take to empower and give confidence where it is needed.

vivian

Now Past the Moon's Shadows

2010-03-18T14:09:00.000+05:30

Stare at me long enough, and you'll get your picture taken.

This experience can be challenging.

We have voluntarily placed ourselves in an environment ready to notice our differences be they cultural, racial, or just fashion-based. It doesn't help things that I am unusual in my own country, and here it can feel magnified. It's not that there is judgment per se, but if we walk around people can't help but to trip out and stare. Or they will quickly grab the kid to point out the foreigners. They are certainly amused by my girlish locks or my so-bright-it-must-be-paint tattoo work. Next year I want to wear a shirt that says "I don't represent my whole country." But if you get someone to talk one-on-one, it can be turned around. We have met a few older 'lake-walkers' who are interested in the politics of their nation and it's place in the world. In these moments I am fortunate to share the positive outlooks and similarities between us, rather the gaps in our natures. I can represent myself and my country well, and feel less outside of things. Not that I've become over-sentimental or patriotic, I just am willing to be open to those I meet in the demographics I'm most comfortable with; under 6 or over 60.

Fishbone shadows play on spines, rising into dark canopies

The season is changing, and with it our ambitions. The heat now steady confronts our daily to-do lists. Quick winds stir up the parched ground, wind carrying with it the reminders that time too is passing through the leaves. Though still much entrenched in our "India Experience" we can't help but turn our focus to what is left for us here and what awaits us back home, compounded by the uncertainty of both ends of the journey. I can add a few more glib riffs, churn a few phrases into comedy ghee, but some of what has truly affected me or changed within can't or shouldn't be shared here. To quote one drunk audience member at a playback performance: "It's too deep." Yeah, this would certainly be too deep for her, but I can share it with the rest of y'all when I get back. I still hope to slam a few blogs out before we leave, while there are still some public-worthy words left.

aeryk

Change

2010-03-13T15:39:00.001+05:30

Sir, empty your pockets and step away from the cash register...

Change.

This time I'm not talking about some metaphor like it's a simile wrapped in an innuendo, covered with vague, and sprinkled with dogmatic bon mots. No. This time I speak of the cold, hard, tangible reality; that emblem of a civilized commercial society that has gone on, as the locals put it, "since time immemorial"... cash.

The deal in India with money is interesting and complex. It is highly regarded as a gift from the gods themselves and is often treated as such when it is not treated like the rest of the highway it rides. Blessings are made over each transaction in shops that display Ganesh, Lakshmi, or other deity of choice. Great care is taken by many to keep money in order and clean. If I were to present a ripped or holed bill, it may be refused. Yeah, just like that. And after I hand it with my right hand and everything. It doesn't matter that I didn't burn it, THEY just don't want the negativity from me. I have displayed out-of-circulation bills at the studio. They are cute and rarely seen. Nowadays, all the money has Gandhi on it. Oh, the irony. There are several languages on each bill, several watermarks and anti-counterfit strips that the clerks love to check, and all the money is differently colored and sized. For the blind and illiterate it would come easier than dealing with our cash. The lowest denomination is a five-rupee note, about 10 cents worth. It is also illegal to leave the country with Indian money. I found this out after my first trip. Oops.

Despite the color, size, and alpha-numeric differences displayed in their varietous plumage, there isn't enough of it. Apparently anywhere. They will 'sell' it at the airport for a charge, also inside temples one can get a stack of coins at a mark up to give back to the stalls inside. But if you ask for any, nobody has it. Rickshaw drivers will NEVER have change, so don't ask. Mom & pop stores (about 80% of small businesses) will rifle through a tin, then say no. Newspapers often cost in rupee and 'paise' or half-rupee, which they will never, ever seem to find. They will always ask you the consumer whose job it is to provide exact change at all times. When you don't, you will get a look back home seen only by the greatest 13-year-old girls, the dreaded 'stink-eye.' They will roll their eyes, sigh, then really, really, slowly count back your change. It's as if they personally had to give me their 7 rupees. Often (usually) they won't have change, and will instead give me candy. Actually, by doing this, they are making me BUY a piece of candy for the remaining 2 or 3 rupees we are talking about. And it's usually something I can't eat. They told me at the pharmacy that they were giving me chocolate, and I smiled like I was admitting that it was my fault we were even having this discussion. As I left, I saw it wasn't chocolate. They were cough drops.

Now I feel sick.

aeryk

Random Specifics

2010-03-12T18:44:00.000+05:30

The Collector of Discarded Dreams

Karanji Lake, Mysore

Yes, we are alive and well.

The heat is something to behold and Vivian and I will hereafter be careful of what we ask for. There is a newer, different way of 'surviving' India each time we come, each time the variation is presented. With temperatures topping 100 this week we welcome refuge where we find it. The shala has been surprisingly cool the last couple of days, before that it was dripping before we started at 4:30am. Our apartment never cools off less than 85, we guess, so our morning naps are important! In fact, everything slows down or closes down midday. We have been watching DVD's of Planet Earth so we can see footage of cool waters and oceans and ice in the hopes that we will cool off through our eyes.

There is still indoor wildlife to battle daily: 3 varieties of ants, cockroaches, roach imposters, mosquitos, and two huge flying bugs... and bedbugs of some sort.

This guy's on our side.

Of course we have spiders and these house geckos working on our team.

Beyond our walls we have recently seen a grass snake, toads at 4am, skinks, an iguana-looking reptile, and possibly a mongoose. This is in the city limits.

"On a long enough timeline, everything returns to zero."

Tyler Derden, Fight Club.

I was mesmerized by this freshly burned area. We often see these flash-burn areas, some controlled and set along borders and others random, or destructively started. Change is inevitable. It has been hard to stay focused for me here; part of me stepping in this experience, part already treading in my future returned-self path. I am left wondering about what I have burned away in my journey, what have I found to plant the next forest. There is also so much to be said collectively and individually that cannot be shared on these airwaves, but there will be nuggets to be revealed in a safer environment. There is also the test of patience here as we sit amid swarms if info, tidbits, and gossip that require distillation before action. By the next day the information may be different, or at least not worth repeating. But rest assured, we will bring back the spirit of the shala.

aeryk

Pilgrimage to Nanjangud

2010-03-03T17:52:00.002+05:30

Lord Nanjundeshwara under remodeling

Two Tiny Worshipers look up to Siva

One of my favorite things about India is that as tourists we can visit the actual physical location of the myths we read about back home. Faced with an extra day off from the Shala, Aeryk and I hopped a train, costing all of 20 cents, to the Shaivite pilgrimage center of Nanjangud. Worshipers have been coming to this town nestled on the edge of the Kabini River for over one thousand years to visit the Lord Nanjundeshwara Temple, the place where the old stories say that Siva swallowed poison to save the Universe from destruction.

One of the Tallest Gopurna in Karnataka

Part of one of the Oldest Temples in India

A sweltering lazy day, most pilgrims, including us, rested up in the shade before entering the Temple.

Going into a large Hindu temple is a little like entering a carnival. There are lots of bodies shuffling from one deity or puja to the next, and Aeryk and I allowed ourselves to be swept up with the herd, armed with small rupee coins like ride tickets.

Every Image is Adorned with Fresh Foliage and Flowers

Inside the Temple there is almost too much to see, literally more than one hundred separate linga of a variety of sizes and ranging in age from 200 to 1100 years, as well as a great variety of God and Goddess statues tucked into alcoves, some of them completely buried in flowers. Out of respect for our surroundings we refrained from taking pictures inside other than this one that Aeryk discretely snapped out of the corner of his pocket - and a couple of the resident temple cat. Shuttled from one alcove to the next, there were many sacred fires, many priests, many blessings. A highlight was squishing through a great metal doorway to witness through the mass of bodies as the priests ritually bathed an ancient Siva Lingam and then pelted us with spoonfuls of specially herbed water. Another stop, worshipers circling a rounded statuary of all the Gods of the Planets, was especially magnificent to watch . Participants looked a bit like planets themselves as they orbited the sacred images and their little flames. Every blessing comes with a little toll, a plate one decorates with coins. There is even a "money changer" priest that sells coins...Now I know where they hide all the change in this country!

A bit of history in the Kabini River

As full of blessings as we could handle, and our rupees nearly spent, Aeryk and I headed outside to the Ghats, the sacred bathing site, and to be honest, town swimming hole. Dozens of men and women were taking the plunge, and in the near hundred degree heat, there was a lot of laughter and joy involved. I took no photos there, as the only foreign lady in town I did not want to get attention for snapping shots of naked Indian men. Instead we focused our attention down stream at this beautiful vestige of the past. Other than a man doing his laundry we had this spot to ourselves, only for the price of hopping rocks over garbage water.

The Unfortunate Usual - Garbage Surrounds the Sacred

We contemplated the beauty and appreciated the history, but in spite of the voraciously healthy looking fish abundantly seen at the water's edge, and the high spirits of the bathers, neither of us particularly felt drawn to wade through the trash. We wandered off to find a quick bus to Mysore.

The Gentle Herd at Rest by the River

Aeryk's Last Gaze at the Kabini Ghats

(no it's not a superhero cape...it's a travel bag!)

The Ubiquitous South Indian Serpents

Post Script to our Adventure:

If one remembers the myth this town and temple are built on, the Gods and Demons churn the Ocean in search of nectar, but before they yield the good, poison erupts from the waters. Siva in his form Lord Nanjundeshwara swallows the poison and saves all the worlds. Parvati saves Siva by grasping his throat so the poison doesn't go down and kill him. Narada holds his mouth so he doesn't vomit it out. Well, none of those deities were apparently on hand to bail us out. Aeryk and I came home with a violent poisonous gift from Nanjangud, one of the classic India vomiting and fever illnesses one hears about. We must have swallowed plenty for all the illness we experienced for the days after. I'll remember next time to read the fine print on any stories I decide to visit.

Vivian

By Special Request...

2010-03-01T16:11:00.003+05:30

10 seconds to spot the parrot... Go !

The problem with nature photography is that the subjects are presenting their colors in the most spectacular ways right up until the moment that a camera is pointed at them. Then they get shy, or just have an attitude. It would also help if our camera was a bit better on the zoom, without losing quality. I guess most if this is one of those 'ya had ta see it' moments. Around the lake we have seen (and tried to photograph) many colorful birds. School-bus yellow finch-like fliers, iridescent blue 'acid-turkeys,' glowing green sparrows-- there ARE many here to see. It's just hard to get them to commit to the photoshoot.

Take it quick, take it quick! Yes!

Of course, the credit for these wildlife photos goes to Vivian. She has the patience to get the job done. I'm good with temples that won't move out of the shot. We still have yet to get a spotting guide for all this wildlife we're seeing, but our walks are nice without making them projects. Here's some color though---

Today is Holi, the festival of colors. Young men will gather and color each other in powders and waters in a animated display of bravado. Others will get swept up in the frenzy, adding to the panorama of pastels. Sorry for the colorful crack in these photos. Like Olympia, some local youth insist on a 'no-belt, man' policy. These hues are about as vivid as the birds we've seen. The colors were seen yesterday, much like our Third of July warm-ups, only with less bottle-rocket fights.

Here's an unrelated photo for Russ the Librarian who requested our theme today.

Bengalese on the move in the Srikanteshwara Temple's inner sanctum; Nanjangud, India.

More about temples, gardens, waking up sick, and spotting house gecko's later.

aeryk

Construction Zone

2010-02-26T19:27:00.002+05:30

Careful across the street; no hazard pay

I'm trying not to read too much into it, but I am fascinated by the remodel happening within view of the apartment. Almost transfixed, actually. I gave up trying to find the perfect metaphor or simile for what I am experiencing with my global daily life and how I see it mirrored on the small plot of land across the street. I wanted to get more pictures of it under it's stages of growth, but it seems to be a never-ending flow of tasks completed. The building began only one story tall until the hand cut and hand shaped re-bar supported new cement beams 8' up and the roof and stairs were propped by planks and poles. Hollow blocks replaced boards, more gridwork held more cement and then bricks, and then another layer of cement. Scaffolding steadied the project from the ground up in the signature hemp-and-stick style and also hung across chasms- above still running shops and cars and walkways and off of nearby second-story railings. Barred windows were set in fresh walls just as the bricklayers arrive to finish the facade; each skilled crew required and received. The water tank sits atop a new still drying platform, it's tubing cut to size and set alongside the new wall. More work is to be done, for sure, but it goes at a calm pace, through the heat and dust to it's accomplishment.

And that's how it is sometimes, I remind myself.
Sometimes it takes a while to see that you're getting somewhere, sometimes something is happening when it feels otherwise. Progress is seen by the footprints left down the path of the past. There is so much happening here and yet it seems unreportable, hard to wrap up and express what we do all day without mentioning the lunch and nap, and not feel like slackers for it. But things are happening. Rumors are spinning around town that we can't talk about, we've had trips switched and canceled, our practice has changed and plateaued, electrical power remains an elusive element. Our meter here ticks on just the same and we savor the world around us with every moment. It seems that there is still so much we want to do and yet the heat conspires against us. Even getting household supplies can become an arduous 95-degree hour long walk. Our studies have been solo lately; reading at home is cooler and cheaper than a class across town. Last night's brief rain spell was a welcome diversion to what will likely be a hot and dry five weeks, and a reminder of the weather of home, and seeing a baby goat today reminded me that spring will be waiting for me in April!
There is so much beauty here, so many goats and houses and flowers and people- it's hard to carry the camera everywhere and be in that mindset, to actively be a tourist and not live the experience, but I will try to capture more of the sights, like that baby goat.

Any requests?

What intriguing things or scenes would you like to see?

aeryk

Coconuts, continued

2010-02-18T17:08:00.001+05:30

A four-branch pile-up

Two days ago, a wicked western wind kicked up and the frail fronds were falling fast.

The local coconut street service came to assist our neighbors again. This time, there was no trunk scaling, no party truck, just a good old fashioned sickling. In their version, a sharpened steel crescent is tied to a 20' strip of bamboo. The ground man poked and speared then tugged and shred until the limb gave way only to snag on one of five power lines below. Including ours. The pro was able to clear two, but got hung up on the rest. With permission from the homeowner manging the whole situation from his doorway, he bagged three from the rooftop.

Go, go, Gadget Poleaxe!

The official moved down the road, but the work around the hood was far from over. There was still a huge pile of downed coconuts from the last visit, plus this fresh 'windfall' of fuel. The family sent grandma out front to split coconut shells for, like, five hours. they gave her a dull machete and a rock. After that, junior grabbed an axe and joined her for a couple more. This went on for two days. If you look close in the picture at the house on the left, you can see how full the eave already is, in front and along the side above the girl in the doorway. Today the family was stacking the hundreds of split husks and freshly cut 'firewood' in what little space remaining. They did this, of course, with a bamboo ladder poised precariously on the fence.

aeryk

The Hot Season Has Arrived

2010-02-18T16:31:00.001+05:30

Shiva's Shade

The lovely lady that gives me ayurvedic massage put it like this:

"Sivaratri (Feb15th) comes, cold is closed. Now hot is here. Hot is coming still March, April, May. Then June, Mysore is crying (monsoon). Mysore cries June, July, August."

I almost wish I could be here to see it cry, because it is really really hot right now. I know it could be hotter. Today it is floating around 34 degrees (93.2f), tomorrow forecast for 35, but I would swear it feels like more. My shirt is stuck to my back and every night this week I have tossed and turned praying for the coolness of dreams to overtake me. We have ceiling fans to move the stillness but due to the on-again off-again power it's mostly not really happening. I fall asleep when the power turns on my fan, awakening half an hour later when the heat is pressing down on me again. Fortunately Sharath told us a few weeks ago at conference that sleep is overrated. According to Sharath we all tend to oversleep and with more yoga we will find we need less. He himself sleeps only from 9pm until 1am when he rises for practice. He takes a nap for one hour in the afternoon, which he also recommends. Count it up....he sleeps only five hours of every 24. Why should I complain? I must be a lazy spoiled American - I go to bed at 8 and rise at a luxuriant 2am.

I have never been so appreciative of the pre-dawn practice!

(And of that cooling coconut oil massage!)

Vivian with Sunanda and Ana, Rooftop Massage Specialists

Vivian

Seen Around Town

2010-02-14T20:03:00.001+05:30

When we are not busy with yoga, chanting, reading, eating, meditating, or riding in a car out of town, we are walking to yoga or to James' place to chant or back to the Ashram for books or over the hill to Green Leaf for lunch or making our way back home from whence we came. My point being we get around a lot on foot. Here are a few images from some of these seemingly random outings.

You can click on any picture at anytime to enlarge. Here are a few examples of the 'houseplants' we see: 7' poinsettias blooming in February and this soon-to-explode flowering cactus, also well over 8'.

The building under construction was smaller, and will become a three story monstrosity before they are done. As people's wealth increases they move to a bigger house, or build up by adding floors above. It is also common to see one story shacks right next to these private high- rises.

Below is an example of the lack of division of church and state: this beautiful gazebo-like altar surrounds a sacred tree adorned with serpent carvings, sacred imagery of Shaivite beliefs. This is in front of the local fire station.

Once the camera comes out in a public space though, everyone wants to get in the shot.

We were nearly mobbed by this class of boys after the first photo. Everyone wanted to be in the front row.

Of course, no outing would be complete without properly disposing of our snack trash. The Happy Hungry Garbage Beast is all too eager to help!

As always, more photos and moments are always on the way.

Thanks for staying tuned!

aeryk

Adventures in Coorg

2010-02-14T10:55:00.003+05:30

Imagine you are driving through the South Indian jungle at night. Darkness has fallen sooner than you planned in the depth of Nagarhole National Park. You were unable to resist stopping, again and again to view and

photograph the profusion of wildlife that seemed eager to pose right by the side of the road. Looming in the beam of your headlights there is no confusing the sudden appearance of a wild elephant. Nothing else could blot out the road, your only way home tonight. As your car slows to stop, an intake of breath....there are massive forms looming on both sides of the road as well as in front. You have driven right into the midst of a herd! This was our situation last night, the culmination of a full and exciting day as only India can deliver.

The beauty of it all was that we awoke that morning innocent of the adventures before us. February 12th this year, Sivaratri, is a special festival day throughout India. We had originally had plans for a small trip to a neighboring state by train, but as often happens around here, our plans fell apart two days before. Aeryk, not to be daunted, created a new itinerary for us to visit a special Siva temple in a nearby town, and we invited our friend Phillip to join us as we shared a post practice coconut at 6 am. Plan B turned into Plan C by 9 o'clock when my lovely landlady Shobha knocked on my door to announce she was taking us to her homeland, Coorg in her private car.

The five of us spent our morning riding in the stately old Ambassador the bumpy roads to the coffee country, high up in the hills at the Karnataka-Kerala border, India's deep south. Shobha and her driver, also a native Coorgi, wanted to take us on a "shortcut" through the wildlife preserve on our way to Irpu falls. The falls we were told were special, sacred, and healing if we wanted to get in them. In the near hundred degree weather, the idea sounded better and better as we traveled. Nagarhole was amazingly beautiful - sunlit teak and bamboo forest riddled with animals. Dhole (jungle dogs), a plethora of spotted deer, langurs, and massive gwar (jungle bison), were the first to greet us. Shobha assured us we would stop longer on the way home, so we passed directly into the hills. Lush "farms" of coffee trees intermingled with pepper trees and exotic flowers and shrubs as the understory of stately forest. I ate my first coffee cherries, sweet and red, and collected some pepper to dry at home.

By the time we were able to climb to the falls, it was well into the afternoon and scorchingly hot. It was sweet relief to climb into the lush landscape! We passed a variety of happy looking damp pilgrims making their way down. The falls themselves were a very welcome view, and the men quickly stripped down to jump in. This being India, ladies get in fully dressed, so I prepared for my blessing in tank top and pants. The falls themselves were deliciously pounding and cool, but nothing like the ice-baths of Washington state! The locals were very friendly with us, but also did not swarm us for photos or to gawk (too much) at the crazy foreigners as is often the case.

Aeryk chills out for Sivaratri

At the base of the hill we visited an ancient temple for puja. I think we all felt very pure by this point, or at least significantly refreshed!
Returning as we came, we almost overstayed our welcome at Nagarhole. Evening being a very active buffet hour for wildlife there was almost too much to take in. While we did not get to see any of the preserve's famed tigers, leopards, or any other cats, we almost saw too much of the wild elephant. I read after our safe return that it is common for elephants to blockade the road at night and even to tip cars they come across, so visitors are advised to leave before six.

Don't mess with the Gwar!

Back in Mysore, extremely tired but happy, we were greeted by the joyous lights and sounds of Sivaratri festivities that ran late into the night. Another perfect, long day in India.

vivian

A Word On Coconuts

2010-02-07T20:05:00.002+05:30

When the pile gets big enough, it goes on the roof.

Coconuts.

They are everywhere- lining the streets, in rows in the fields, even growing through buildings. From my apartment I can hear the occasional cartoon bonk of one hitting the street from twenty feet above. It's cute at first, but everything comes down. There are crews who maintain and harvest the street trees. They send a skilled climber up the tree, sometimes with a piece of cloth between his feet if he's new. He will use his machete to fell the fruit and dead or dying leaves. His partner will do his best from the ground to keep the population safe from shrapnel falling from above. When these coconuts land, it's either over a house, garden, car, or street. And when they bounce they are like a punted football- violent and random. Because of this and because a single man on the street will be ignored sometimes people or scooters are still hit. I've seen an officer file a coconut-related complaint. Later, a truck may come by for some of the husks. I have a set of pictures at the studio of such a vehicle. In between these visits fruit and leaves still fall. I sometimes hear a violent scraping/rumbling followed by a loud tha-whack! Down on the path most followed lie a ten foot section of solid coco-wood and even the leaflets are hard and dangerous. This week a lady was grazed by one that fell from our home's tree. Yikes!

Now I always heed the advice of the PBS Star Hustler, Jack Horkheimer: 'And remember to keep looking up!' Some short time after a fall I will hear what sounds like water sprayed on aluminum siding in an echo chamber, that is to say the sound of one of these limbs drug off scraping down the road to be parted out like a Camaro. Everything gets used here, and in a country that doesn't have a Thriftway to get kindling at 3am everything freshly fallen is up for grabs. Our neighbors across the street have stacked this pile pictured for only a short while, they have however filled a whole rafter section designed for this purpose that wraps around the top of their house. Even our own landlady salvages and has deftly taken to a pile of coconuts with a machete. After having seen that I step warily out into the street, and pay my rent on time.

aeryk

Walk softly, and don't touch the Monkey...

2010-02-07T19:00:00.000+05:30

Jai Hanuman!

Last tour, we were encountering Shiva at every corner. This time, our paths have been crossed again and again with the furry footfalls of Hanuman. The forshadow must have been in the form of the Hanuman picture David brought us from the old shala. Locally this started with an opportunity to sing with our musical friends the Hanuman Chalisa-- praises of the exploits of Hanuman, Kirtan style, but before that event even happened we found out about another set of opportunities across town. A youngish scholar from the UK and a student of M.A. Jayashree led us in a rousing chanting session featuring Hanuman. This was at a wonderful house just beyond the lake, and now gives us further excuse to go there, or at least through it. This was the call-and-response we have come to expect, but the leader was as welcoming as the group and it was easy to fit in socially and musically. He also offers Bhagavad Gita chanting and dialogue, which is a thrice weekly thing for the next week that he is in town. The group already covered the first two chapters leaving chapter three for our time together. It is nice to be studying a bit, more than just reading at home. There is some stuff offered through the shala, but it is not my learning style right now. In between sessions, we had a chance to hear Swamiji; a visiting swami Sharath's family is putting up while some ceremonies happen. He was one of Guruji's first students and is still close to the family. He spoke of devotion to practice, to self, to discovering what is the body and what is beyond. Basically the same stuff that the Gita and Upanishads have been telling me all week. But it was wonderful to get his blessings, and his take on our practices and how important it is for the whole world today.

aeryk

Apologies

2010-02-05T07:10:00.000+05:30

It has been brought to my attention that something I posted on the blog could be misconstrued to reflect negatively on my teacher David Garrigues and fellow student Katie Gehn. I want to share my deepest remorse for my thoughtless comments. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have the greatest love and respect for David. He holds more of the spirit of Ashtanga yoga in his baby toe than I have in my whole body and I owe almost everything that is strong and good in my practice to him. I don't know Katie so well, but I have practiced next to her and she is a very powerful lady with a beautiful practice. She obviously has great devotion to this yoga as she managed to uproot her life and leave her three children at home while she spent time studying here.
My intention, obviously not well thought out, was in response to some requests from back home for form corrections - are there any differences here from what we are practicing in Olympia? It's a little similar to how once was asked, "how are they wearing it in Paris this season?" now we ask "what is the current asana fashion in Mysore?" It pains me extremely that I may have offended anyone, teachers, students, or friends. Please accept my apology. I will give more careful consideration in future to what I put out in such a public space.

Vivian

First-Rate Service in a Third-World Country

2010-02-03T18:58:00.002+05:30

The Dell Vostro 1520; the most expensive thing we own and our link to the outside world.

This is more or less what you should have seen a week ago- a blog entry. That is for those just joining us what we refer to as Plan-A, which I should have seen coming with my own paislied third eye. Yes, the correct answer is somewhere between plan-D and none of the above. Right now we have internet access right into the laptop strung in through the bug-screened window, routed through a cable that is still downstairs yet originating on the roof, passing my window on it's way down the first time. On the roof, it bounces from foot-tripping height to laundry strangulation as it swings simian over two more roofs and a coconut tree before rising out of sight. It's no surprise then that it wouldn't take much for the system to go down and would take a while to sort out the problem. Despite territory issues, power issues, time-share issues, it came down to the bill not being paid. Yeah. It's paid now, and the modem is in our apartment. That should make things easier, until the power goes out, or the line gets snapped, or...

aeryk

A Quick Word on Tittibhasana

2010-01-24T13:59:00.000+05:30

I've received some questions about the tittibhasana sequence in second series from back home. Here's the current scoop: Jump on if possible, or arrange as necessary...butt down, feet up - not level. The insect flies for five, lands for five, walks five double steps forward, five back. That means twenty movements of the feet total. Then the insect draws into its shell, feet close together for five. Finally the insect lifts again for One - not five counts before flying back to chaturanga. I hope that clarifies things. There are many insects here in India. Some fly, some creep and crawl, many are large and many are small. All, however, are endowed with extra charisma and flair. Be certain to put some attitude into your sequence to be an authentic India bug.

vivian

Where do you go when you've already gotten away from it all...?

2010-01-23T20:23:00.001+05:30

Kukkarahalli Lake, Mysore

This our new favorite getaway! We found this gem on our first trip and have visited it many times since. The walk from our place was warm and brisk, but we strolled through a few new neighborhoods and became rejuvinated by their simple beauty. It is amazing how many small temples and corners of devotion are found in the most unlikely places, or maybe they are right where they need to be. We met a gentleman on our walk who told us that this is a very ancient lake, obviously arousing a sense of historical pride in him. Yes, India is about the art and history, but it is an art and history of a people. Many peoples. This is why the country is struggling with adding more states. Each state is representative of people bound by language, and then there are more languages and peoples caught in cracks or overlooked and now they too are asking for representation. Here in Karnataka, the Kannada-speaking natives have the majority, but even that could change. It wasn't until last year that the language was recognized by the overseeing Indian Parliament as an official state language. It's only been around for thousands and thousands of years.

But at the lake, we get away from the politics and enjoy benches covered by flowering arches, open expanses of green and blue, painted cows grazing near the shore, and pelicans, storks and other birds too numerous to detail here filling the skies and trees. The mile or so to the lake is overshadowed by the mile or so perimeter stroll we take, practically alone save for the random historian or festive bovine. Don't get me wrong- I love the crazy part of India. When I leave I will miss the smoking trucks, tailgating rickshaws, late night honking, full body contact crowds at the supermarket, and the combination of jasmine and burning dung everywhere- but until then, you'll find me Saturdays under the tamarind trees at the lake.

aeryk

a second week of yoga

2010-01-22T07:59:00.001+05:30

We come to the end of our second week of yoga, properly tired and happy. It was a hot sweaty time in the shala...up until today we were starting at 5:45 after an entire batch of bodies had heated up the space. As of this morning we have been moved to the first group, 4:30 am, which is really 4:15, but which gathers by 4! Now it is our job to heat things up for everyone else. Given the extra warm for winter Mysore temps I don't think we'll find that too much of a challenge.

Sharath has been extra "teacherly" this trip, giving an uncharacteristic number of form corrections and adjustments, and I'd like to pass them on to everyone. I was corrected in Pada Hastasana for being a little too narrow in my stance. Second Series form correction: in Bharadvajasana the crossing arm should go around the side of the legs, not at the point of the knee as I was originally taught. This leaves the torso as a straight up and down spiral. I have also heard Sharath correcting for many : "feet closed in Dhanurasana" meaning the whole inner edge of the feet should ideally join, not just the toe tips. He also says commonly, "Don't be lazy", or alternately, "Why you hurry?". His pace in led class is extremely even and unrushed, though the count may appear to stop entirely during Navasana while he advises students to "stop shaking" and during Utpluthuh as he reminds us ,"Lift up, no cheating".

Sharath seems kinder and more generous than in the past, and he never fails to help students with their challenge postures if he is stopping them. He has been very observant of Aeryk and me this week. He has given us some "new" postures and changed our time. He still likes to treat us as one unit, which fortunately we are both happy with. He gave me a posture while he was sitting on Aeryk, then said to him, "oh, and you too." When he changed our time he addressed it to Aeryk, saying, "tell your wife". It will be easier for him to teach us at the earliest time as we will be together and won't have to pass notes. I am inwardly prepared for the time when we may be split up, so to speak. Thus far we have never been given a posture we needed help with or needed to be stopped at. Sharath's formula is to add postures slowly one at at time, not usually more than one in a week (this week being unusual for us in that respect). If we get to a place in the practice where one of us is less proficient at the posture, one of us may move on without the other. It is not really that usual for couples to progress as evenly as we are.

Saraswati is as omnipresent as ever, helping Sharath with his students while maintaining her own. She has lost a lot of weight this year, and I am not certain if it is from grief and changes with the loss of her father, or if it is a byproduct of her own yoga practice. She looks good, still gruff but warm. I received several of her backbend assists this week. Sharath helped with my last one of the week, yesterday, taking me a bit farther up my leg that I had gone before. Even a few inches feels like a mile! Aeryk gets so much more flexible in his backbends here it looks a bit like his back is broken in the middle...maybe from the heat, or maybe because, generally a rebel, he will submit to Saraswati's authority and bend just like she tells him to.

That's our week, warm, wet, bendy, and very early.

vivian

Food File 2010

2010-01-21T10:47:00.002+05:30

Place: Hotel Sri Durga Bhavan, otherwise known as the Sit-Down Stand-Up.

Time: 10 am (ish)

Meal: Breakfast

The Scoop: We never tried this small diner, known as a 'hotel' when it was just across the street at the end of our block. It is known as the 'Sit-Down' because most places only have bistro style tables to stand at. In their new space, there are six tables that fit 30 people and the walk up High Tension Road really makes the trek worth a sit-down. Our Canadian friends Jenni and Raven showed us this space and we had to go back. Vivian and I ordered Rice Bath with an Indian minestroni-like sambar sauce instead of yoghurt, and two Wada plates came with more sambar and coconut chutney. The rice was tamarind flavored this time, and the dough and veggie wadas were fried to perfection. This was washed down with a bottle of water, hand opened by the 14 year old on duty. Total cost with tip (optional in India) 65 rupees, or about a buck fifty. We are definitely coming back.

aeryk

What'cha gonna do, what'cha gonna do when they come for you...

2010-01-19T19:17:00.004+05:30

On the road with law enforcement in Mysore, India.

Last year the cops showed up at this place across the street from us in a bus, the guy in the striped shirt had none, the upstairs windows were smashed out, a demented grandpa held the secret whereabouts of a fugitive, and a dead body still lay in the living room. This year they have toned it down a bit. It's helpful to step away from something and get a fresh perspective, or allow for changes to arise in that which is seen and create a new relationship to it. Who are we when we look in the mirror unchanged? Even a day affords a lifetime of catalyst to set in if allowed. Although my own practice suffered in many ways this past year, I can also feel a re-bonding to where I left off with myself, and haven't lost ground in the big picture. Today we held our ankles in our backbends, just like the day before, and every day feels new, every glance in the mirror a different visage reflecting the newest Now. What does this have to do with the cops? Not much. Except the family is still grieving and sometimes we need help sorting things out. I am thankful for this mixed experience in a crazy time in my life, and I am already changed, again.

aeryk

Plan-C...

2010-01-16T13:15:00.001+05:30

Here's the deal- when life hands you lemons, and you hate lemonade, you trade them for grapes, and try to get someone else to make wine. It is true that we left home on Wednesday Jan 6th, all packed into Kara's car, but at the airport we found that we were switched to Air France, with a stop in Paris. I knew this was too good to be true, even to rub my face in a trip I can't take. We were informed in a next-morning phone call that Lufthansa would be our carrier now, and that there was to be a stop in Frankfurt, Germany. I called for confirmation and the clerk sounded vague. At the airport, British Airways wasn't open. Not even staffed. Lufthansa said Air France only sent forward one ticket, and with 1 hour to board, we needed a ticket re-issued from BA to Air France so it could be forwarded to Lufthansa, and maybe-maybe we would get to sit together on one of the two 10-hour flights to Bangalore. And we were told without 48 hours notice, none of the three airlines could honor our Veg meal request. Bread rolls for lunch! As we were not the only ones to have travel mishaps, the Shala was open for registration on Saturday after all. We are now paid up for the month, rent is also paid up, and we are working on the technological aspects of this trip. Go skype! But we arrived during a festival time, so life is good.We even survived the Solar Eclipse, which affected our ability to get breakfast. It seems our restaurant was concerned about lunch attendance with the weather phenomena and it's evil affectations that their menu was limited so they could close for 6 hours. Maybe they will have a "survivor" special today...

aeryk

One Week!

2010-01-16T12:38:00.005+05:30

Happy Pongal! We always seem to arrive just in time for a festival here. This week the cows are painted extra brightly, and the door step rangoli patterns drawn in rice flour by the ladies are especially beautiful and detailed.

Aeryk and I are settling in to our first week of warm weather, power outages, and internet difficulties. We lose electricity every day here a few times for minutes or hours at a stretch. We knew this would be the case and planned some things ahead...I am loving my new head lamp!

Our first week at the Shala was hot hot hot! The morning temperatures have been fairly high, and all the bodies in the Shala lead to lots of moisture and sweat. I have been soaking my leggings and shirts all the way through every day.

During the first week we had a day of led primary series followed by 3 days of mysore style, primary series only for everyone. All students end every week with a morning of led primary. This was a very therapeutic beginning. Sharath seems very comfortable and relaxed. I really can't convey how difficult the led navasana is here! Or the Utplutih...very very tough. My body is really softening up already to the warm temperatures and though I haven't had difficult postures yet I feel open and ready for next week. We have received the usual backbending routine. The first day Sharath would not allow me to hold my ankles or even to bend for long, only to walk the hands to the heels. The second day he told me to drop back, walk in, and then hold. He likes to open people up slowly. Saraswati has a very different style. Aeryk had a nice plan to start gentle, but she just hauled him in whether he wanted to or not. I received one of hers as well this week and she is as strong and firm as ever! The biggest change I have felt in my body here is that after the big bend I am just melting into the forward bend with no effort. Very helpful considering they give a really strong crush right away after the backbend.

It is wonderful to be here, meeting old friends and practicing again around the most amazing yogis.

I miss everyone from home, but I have been happy to hear that the morning classes have been full at the studio. I like to think of everyone practicing, a half day in time away.

vivian

Third Time's a Charm

2010-01-09T19:23:00.001+05:30

Yes! We have arrived in style. Tomorrow I will tell all, including Plan-C, one airline ticket, shala registration, and what was for breakfast. Until then, we sleep.

*** aeryk

Yoga Is Plan-B

2010-01-07T20:17:00.002+05:30

Yoga, contrary to popular belief, is not about obtaining supreme physical prowess in order to wrangle and subdue the ego and mind, paving the way for deeper thought and insight into the human condition, thereby allowing for a personal and societal evolution through this karmic self-surrender to a collective consciousness. I know how I may have misled a few of you, especially after some of my rants, but this is the way it is. The truth is, all yoga and all life is about 'plan-B.' Yoga prepares the soul for that startling moment when Plan-A doesn't work, and the body immediately goes into a classic fight-or-flight pattern as the senses scramble for direction. This could be as simple as the store being out of your favorite chocolate, or maybe the concert only has bleacher seats left. Your skill as a yogi comes into play when confronted with these moments.

Our challenge came at the airport. Upon arrival we found out that a broody stormcloud hangs over London, causing all British Airways flights to be canceled. And we just got through that 'strike' scare. We arrived too late to get on the next day flight (which will probably be also canceled, the clerk said) so we have been bumped over to Air France with no vegan meal and a two hour stop in Paris. Yes this is one of my dreams, but I always thought I'd see Paris on foot, not behind glass. And Paris itself is in the middle of snowfall, so there is still a chance that we will land in England anyway. Bangalore reports thunderstorms on and off this week so possibly a tumultuous, wet start to our tropical getaway.We will get to Mysore late but fortunately I was able to change our pick-up ride. Shiva is awesome ! The remaining issue of arriving Saturday for the Weds-Thurs-Friday Shala registration times will have to resolve itself later. In the meantime we are coasting in neutral and going with whatever flow is around us. We snuck into the Bandha Room for an emergency practice this morning and with any luck, we will be on some flight sometime today to take us someplace closer to there. If not, I will take a deep breath, focus my gaze, and visualize Plan-C.

*** aeryk

There and Back Again

2009-01-30T00:38:00.008+05:30

Home.
We made it.
Sneaking into the studio this morning I felt as if we never left, and that a lifetime has passed since I took this photo three months ago.
Thank you everyone for helping each other through this long winter, and for the support you gave us in our absence; family, teachers, co-workers, friends-- you know who you are and what you've done. We hope to give back some of the sun and magic we stored up on our travels. We had a long time to reflect on the connections we've made in our community these short few years, and are so fortunate to have them to come back to.
So again, thank you.
It is good to be Home.

--- aeryk ---

Details, Details, Details...

2009-01-21T15:31:00.006+05:30

India provides quite the opportunity for a kaleidoscope of colorful moments, fragments, and shafts of experience, it is often overwhelming just experiencing them; to synthesize such datum and distill the essences into tangible nectar to share is harder still. There are so many 'you had to be there' times that I wanted to give a taste of the stories that are best told at greater length. In no particular order to the pics or stories, here are some of our highlights missed...

Temple carvings are way cool up close. There is a detail that is still vibrant and active... the figures literally jump off the walls at you, and are expressive, down to the mustachioed grimace and ringed fingers and toes on some of these brutes. These ancient heritage landmarks are often in use, and even under the watch of the Gods, it's just another day for some staff. Visually these compounds look relatively unchanged. People are amazing and unpredictable. Shout out to our Chennai bus mates! Public transportation is an amazing thing here. Even with busses, there seems to be distinct grades of service depending on who's driving and where you're going. there is a difference between a public city bus, a state-run bus, private charter, DVD-Express, or overnight "sleeper." They actually call it that, but the movie is cranked. We keep running into people we know, which is cool. Vivian had breakfast with Krista who says says, "Hey, Tom, when are you gonna come to Mysore?" Some of you back home are already closer than five degrees of separation... I never hooked up with my Bangalore Playback theatre connection, so I started a group in Mysore. Our show is Friday night. Vivian is documenting all of this for later incrimination... I have a whole tale of making didgeridoos, performing them at Mysore University with Julie, Ajai, and Tobias, then recording with Julie and David in an undisclosed location. Also unspoken, is honoring friends former treansitions, and a full report on amazing construction practices.

--- Aeryk ---

Top Ten Things Heard Around The Shala

2009-01-15T20:42:00.003+05:30

(This image came from Mamallapuram. This a cat copying a yogi on a 1200 year-old stone-carved wall. It was the most yoga-like image I had.)

And now... "Late Night" presents:
The Top Ten Things Heard From Sharath in 2008.
10. "You're late."
9. "What's your hurry, hungry or something?"
8. "Lift up. Don't come down."
7. "No fear."
6. "No crying."
5. "Taiwan? Taiwan?" (or Japanese, Sweden... addressing a student)
4. "Don't leave your leg, don't leave your leg. OK, leave your leg."
3. "Don't break my picture."
2. "You don't go home until you stand up."

And the number one thing heard around the shala...

1. "One More!"

--- aeryk ---

Happy Sankranti !

2009-01-15T19:59:00.004+05:30

Sankranti, known as Pongal by the Tamils of South India, is the only Hindu festival to follow the solar calendar and begins the 6-month journey of "daytime" for the Gods. This ancient 4-day harvest festival begins with casting off of old unnecessary goods, and cleaning house. We celebrated "Bhogi" by ditching our responsibilities and climbed Chamundi Hill, and met this pilgrim in the middle of the 1000+ steps. There were monkeys scattered throughout the journey, and actually outnumbered the visitors we saw on the stairs. Surya Pongal is day two, and this Sun-Day is when the celebrations really begin. Women rise early to make extra-special rice-flour designs, or Kollams, outside their doors. This is meant to be a peace offering to pests and a symbol-filled yantra to represent the overflowing rice pots that are, well, literally overflowing in the kitchen. Walking around the neighborhood I was entranced looking at the colors, like driving around to see Holiday lights. Mattu Pongal is day three. This is the day for cows. They get to eat first, get washed first, and they are the first to get painted. I didn't have a camera in time to catch the "rainbow-bull" but later there were a few lemon cows around. This one had purple horns. Some villages have bullfighting on this day, in the city we just bet on them. Kaanum Pongal is day 4, and is another solar day. Families are foremost for this day. I guess after walking your cow in a parade all day, you just want to kick back on the fourth day. That's what I'll do tomorrow, cow or no cow.

--- aeryk ---

An Indian Mirage

2009-01-13T17:35:00.009+05:30

Traveling through India, experiences are as vast as these images suggest. Many layers of reality coalesce as centuries collide into one pin pointed, yet passing moment. What you see is what surrounds, but how you see it remains your choice and here there is a magic hat full of options. The paths to take are many.

Now in Gokulum, Mysore a routine persists. Each day sewed together by a thread of light-lit joy - that's the Mysore morning. A room filled mat to mat. Who stands next to you you may never know, but their presence is a part of the tide bending back and stretching toward space created.

Many times I have opened my eyes here to feel fortune beyond fortune. My palms feel fresh and open. Walking light we roam.

Love, Laura

Car Races

2009-01-11T13:13:00.006+05:30

It's not what you think, but it's not too far off, either. Imagine thousands of sportsfans rushing to catch sight or touch one of these massive 'formula funny cars.' In the Indian version there is no gasoline, the tires are wood and steel, but the fans still run the risk of a good ol' fashioned sports-related auto beheading as one of these 4-ton behemoths careens off the guardrail and heads for the crowd. This very real and very celebrated event happens all over South India on prescribed "race days" drawing thousands of pilgrims into the narrow streets to cheer on the Gods as they roll down main street to do a holy lap around the hood before storming back into the garage for a new paint job and plans for the next racing season. I don't know if there is ever a clear 'winner' as I think it's more of a parade, but if you lose, it's like runnin' with the bulls only crazier. The fenced-in chariot is from Belur in Karnataka State, and is is a 20 ft cube of solid wood, steel, and paint. The smaller two are from Chidambaram, Tamil Nadu and have the stone-temple look. All are several hundred years old and are still in use. But times have merged, and no space is sacred enough. You can see recent advertising crassly plastered on one sandstone landmark, advertising some bodybuilding event coming. I like how they used some stock photos of Arnold Schwarzenegger from the eighties. How retro...

--- aeryk ---

Fever Pitch

2009-01-06T17:46:00.003+05:30

First came the bubbles, then the flush of heat, my hands and face went numb and I wondered if I would be able to finish either lavatory project I started before I passed out. Three days now, no yoga, little sleep, too much spice on an empty stomach sends me back to square one. The body has a way of self-regulating it's energy. I was obviously running on high for far too long. Vivian peeled her layers off on the car and train rides from the coast. I saved mine up until now. Conscience and consciousness flow like waves through my memories, alone with my thoughts and migraines I can lord judgment upon my transgressions, question my good motives that led me to where I am at. Where we are all at. Am I the butterfly tempting the world to help me shed? Is my catharsis enough to give back? Sleep takes me at a whim, then spits me back upon the shore of fitfulness too soon to drift off to sea. Curtains of haze rain down on my left-sided-thoughts, pressing shafts of pain and heat through my ears, and I hear the voice again. When did I hear it last? I was young, too young for a fever delirium like this. I was at the beach. It was new and I was safe. Now older I hear the same ocean still echo, was it only a year ago? Sepia storms mist me in false shadows, now again the ocean a loop of white noise waxing to wake me again, just enough to feel the heat burn through my eyes, another wave pulls the sheet back over me and I search for the fleeting image of calm salvation on familiar shores.

--- aeryk ---

Sign of the Times # 2

2009-01-03T13:32:00.002+05:30

Here is our street sign.
The signs are low, probably because people must keep at least one eye on the road, and because they are stone. That will keep people from stealing like they do at home. They list the house numbers, but there is a weird logic I haven't figured out yet as to how this fits with the surrounding blocks. We are apparently on 2nd-B, not just regular 2nd. I'm glad that I don't need to find anything today...

- aeryk -

Stairway to Heaven ?

2009-01-03T13:07:00.004+05:30

Forget those lines of pilgrims sweating their way to nirvana, THIS is the way to go for the Brahman who has plenty of dharma but not enough energy for all the prostration and walking. Now modern hill-top temples offer sandal-to-statue services... That's right! Four mostly healthy lower class fellows will haul you up the incline, saving you valuable genuflecting energy. How much would you pay to be first at the feet of the fifty-foot fellow? Don't respond yet--- they'll also throw in a backstage pass to party with the priests. Get as close to Shiva as a Nandi bull as you rub elbows with such Temple favorites as Ghee boy, Tikka-the-hut, Tour Guide Torach, and the man behind the flame, armed with turmeric and vermillion... it's the Pujinator. Don't forget to tip him on the way out. How much would you pay now?

--- aeryk ---

What I Did For Winter Break

2009-01-03T12:37:00.002+05:30

What I Did For Winter Break, or How YOU can survive the Holidays away from home...

Step One: Pack your own toys and decorations. India has it's own ideas about what a western Solstice/Christmas should look like. There was a Santa in town, but the Caucasian mask looked creepy. I was wished a 'Happy Christmas Tree' and a house was painted with 'Happy X-Max.' We decked up our room with a strand of lights and a bag of Playmobil Santa's & gear, plus assorted candies and small packages. This is the key: pack light. You've got to get Christmas home, too.

Two: Make magic where you can, and look forward to Plan B. Maybe you will end up at the beach, maybe you wont. Use the challenges in front of you to create mandalas of sense for those around you. Or just play with the pretty shells the kids collect for you.

Three: Know that you too are a tourist. Get in the middle of it. Blend in when you can, but stay on the perimeter for the random opportunities. We saw an aquarium inside the crocodile/snake preserve, then handled a baby burmese python. Get used to the pacing of the crowd as soon as you can, then pick your 'counter-tempo' and get your needs met. You can practice your own crowd movement at home by attaching glow-sticks and balloons to your jacket then walk through the mall during the busy hour.

--- aeryk ---

Food File # 2

2008-12-23T11:31:00.005+05:30

Food File # 2

Meal: Breakfast
Location: Nilgiri's
Ordered: Idli, Vada, Set Dosa, Masala Dosa
Price: Under $2.50 US for 3 diners
The Deal: Nilgiri's is quickly becoming my favorite close place to eat. Breakfast served 6am-noon, lunch until 3, first dinner @ 4:30pm, full dinner at 7pm.Here is a typical Indian breakfast. An idli, oval fermented-rice poof-ball is dipped in spicy veg sambar or the sweeter (and spicy) coconut chutney. I like to order vadas with mine. They are like doghnuts with peppercorns and herbs crammed in, then you dip it in the sauces. Round two consists of dosas. In the background lie a stack of set dosas which are like pancakes ready to dip. (see the theme?) The extra grease-fried masala dosa comes with a scoop of a sort of potato salad. Mmmmmnnnnnmmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....

--- aeryk ---

Desperately Seeking Shiva

2008-12-20T17:55:00.003+05:30

It is difficult to put into words, and is probably the reason why it has taken so long to blog. We have been visiting 'local' temples, some a train and three busses away from our second home. Something is drawing us here, deeper now on our second coming as it were, and most of it revolves around Shiva, the destroyer and creator of the universe in Hindu lore. We have both experienced a series of mental/spiritual cleansing similar to peeling a couple of layers off the old psychic onion to reveal a bit more of the core, the true eye-tearin' truth. Not that we are ready to convert or anything... I don't even know if one CAN convert to Hinduism or whether that would change anything here with our obvious 'visitor' status. But something is gently nudging us in the direction of self exploration involving fire, stone, history, and symbols. This Temple was all ours, the nearest local was blocks away, the nearest visitor a half mile afar. With fresh jasmine falling from the tree and dancing in the wind, we too danced around the temple. The gate was locked due to structural instability so we were not allowed in, but as I said before, we were called to be there. I was able to get me camera inside for two shots, without which we would have seen nothing. Treasures are revealed for those who look without looking...

--- aeryk ---

Sign of the Times #1

2008-12-20T17:46:00.002+05:30

This sign was spotted near a primary school. They are everywhere. I think this is a warning for the children.

--- Aeryk ---

In Motion

2008-12-20T17:11:00.005+05:30

All India is always in motion. People won't stand still, cows won't stop chewing, scooters certainly won't pause for the camera. Once in a while the world slows to a near-halt for a moment, and if I'm lucky enough you get to see a bit of the magic I see daily. I love the way those cows were in a tighter step than the production of "A Chorus Line" that I was in. As our bus rounded the corner outside of Shravanabelagola, I saw the whole cow-line shift from the center of the street to the shoulder without ever looking frazzled. They were not tied together, either. That guy is good.
In the second moment there was an impromptu event at the Temple down the block. Nobody seemed to know what it was about, but it didn't matter. Everyone enjoyed the African-Rhythm youth percussion corps, then the fireworks. These kids didn't seem to mind that everyone was just hanging around. Most youth are very entertained in getting their pictures taken, mostly so they can look at themselves. I took a dozen shots and showed everyone. This was the first one where they are kind of serious. The 'reality' seems to spiral out of the front dude and the world gets fuzzy from there. We lightened up after that. I like the way they were willing to be real with me, and were not self conscious.

--- aeryk ---

Inside Looking Out

2008-12-20T16:42:00.003+05:30

I am not the Eye
nor the I
irrespective of each other

twin galaxies swim in tandem
unison found in the assumed collective gravity created in the vaccuum of space and thought

I found my Eye
looking outwards

inside I sought
outside I hid
searching for a way in,
hoping to slip around a corner and stumble upon the truth before I am found out and made to go around the long way again

again I closed my Eye
and found my I
right where I left it

once inside it all seemed so clear
to touch a stone and feel the past
to hear the heartbeats of yesterday echo still

one finger quickly fell
marble column became the bell
centuries later the pillars still sing
my closed eyes opened to wonderous things

now when I close my Eye
I see the door
now when I open the door
I see the Sun
now when I see the Sun
I see my eyes are still opening

--- aeryk ---

Vivian's Page

2008-12-20T16:38:00.003+05:30

Vivian's Page

A picture of me, almost unrecognizably happy, drinking a coconut, is a the closest image I have to describe my yoga practice these days in Mysore: Drinking in the raw simplicity of asana and finding peace and bliss in its elixir.

Aeryk and I have had the first time slot at the Shala for a while now, which is the most peaceful. All the yogis in that time are experienced at the shala, at least by a few months, but the vast majority are on second, third or tenth trips to Mysore. There is not much jockeying for placement, the hierarchy seems obvious, and most have grown beyond caring about a "good" or "bad" spot. The first group gets to chant the invocation with Sharath, the only ones who receive that privilege on Mysore style days. We do get up very very early. Most days I rise between 2:15 and 2:45 am to include my full cleansing and awakening before practice.

Aeryk and I are yoga twins these days. Our practice is essentially the same. Sharath now is giving us the same new postures at the same time. One day he even had us go back in tandem to demonstrate a posture for him we had already passed, and approving it, gave us both our next asana. Thursday he came up to us during our backbends and joked, who goes first? He helps first one, then the other, holding the ankles.

Aeryk is looking quite flexible these days with such a deep final backbend. Sharath still has different advice for us, "No fear" and "heels DOWN" for Aeryk, "Relax" and "relax your hands" for me. It is new for us to receive this attention at the end of our practice. Sharath has started moving my hands up higher on my legs, and it almost feels normal.

Important update for you yogis at home in Olympia: Sounds are not permitted at the shala. One lady makes some noise every time she holds her ankles. Sharath always says to her "No Crying!" and everyone laughs.

We have a friend here who was just working on dropping back. Sharath rewarded him with the first posture of second series, and told him he needs to stand up from of his backbend. One day, he was trying, but without success and plenty of grunting. Sharath said, "Stand up, push hard" Our friend replied "I can't!" Sharath returned with "Is possible... You don't go home until you stand up." and he walked away. Our friend stood right up. Now he does it every day, of course, because whatever you do here once, you must repeat forever.

Aeryk and I are still finishing at a place "lower" than our abilities in the sequence of postures. This is completely ok with me. We are not being stopped at all, we have a new posture added every week. Our practice is much longer now than when we started here. It has some intense asana. It is only a matter of spending more weeks and years here to get more postures added. As Aeryk says, we know who we are, and it is not defined by the postures we are "allowed" to practice.

It feels good to let go of greediness for postures, or even for the sensations of more advanced postures. I know when Sharath tells me to relax my hands, mostly he is telling me something specific about progressing my backbend deeper...Only a soft hand can let go of one place to climb higher on the legs. At the same time I also hear a parallel lesson for my practice. I don't need to grasp on to postures, but instead to relax and live in my body softly. Progress is a different space than I imagined it to be.

I feel that we have a good relationship with our teacher and with our practice. I have never felt happier in my yoga. I feel tired out and peaceful at the end of every day. I am recharged and enthousiastic upon waking.
Ashtanga yoga is a sweet life.

Yarrow's Adventure

2008-12-20T16:33:00.004+05:30

Ahoy from afar! Laura and I have arrived safe and sound in India. We were driven to the airport, and waited an hour to board our plane. Once we got on, my recent excitement vanished. After the luxuries of Air Singapore, British Air is well, let me be frank...lame! Most of the flight attendants were men, extremely unlike the beautiful women that were oh so kind on Singapore Air! After that ordeal of the first plane (experiencing some rather odd food, like the "feel good cookie") we arrived in the Heathrow Airport. It's amazing even looking out of the airport at London. All the houses are duplicates of each other, the same house row after row of them! Me and Laura were exhausted, so after reaching our terminal, lay on the marble airport floor letting the heat sink in. I ate half a bar of chocolate, which once i got on I quickly regretted. The next few hours I will leave unmentioned, other that the fact that Laura continued to ask the flight attendant for more barf-bags for the poor child sitting next to her. I survived, however, and we reached the Bangalore airport ready for grand excitement. None came, however, for, although the airport has changed a great deal (no more bamboo poles seeming to hold up the roof up at places) the people still aren't all exactly what you would call...kind. We discovered this fact when I realized I had left my treasured book Breaking Dawn on the plane. The first person we asked was a man sitting behind a desk, looking professional enough. We approached and asked if it was possible to get misplaced luggage from the plane. He gave us a confused look, then, (I don't think he understood what we said) said in unpracticed English, "No." Disappointed, but also not satisfied, we went to the next man and repeated the question. He gave us direction of where to go, then his cell phone rang. Laura and I took the escalator down a few flights, got our luggage, and went to the lost luggage desk. A more kindly woman called someone who soon arrived with my book, which for a moment I feared I might never see again.
Ready to leave, we set off to find our taxi driver, and soon spotted a sign with the names Yarrow and Laura printed on the front. The man took our luggage and led us out to the street. The moment I stepped out of the airport doors i felt as if I had stepped into a bath, for the air was perfectly skin temperature, and you could not feel any difference in heat, which felt very strange after coming from Olympia, Washington, then going on to London, England.
The three hour taxi drive was full of giggles, squeals, and, "Whoa"s, which came from the backseat where Laura and I sat admiring the country side. Seeing the familiar Mysore was a relief, and getting dropped off at the house I knew oh so well from last trip was even more exciting! As we hauled our luggage out of the trunk my parents leaped down the stairs to meet us. Hurray! Greetings and hugs all around. Then we tromped up the stairs to our little house. The first picture of me and Laura was taken the day we arrived, jet lag finally kicking in.
My mom suggested we go to Tina's, a breakfast restaurant, if you could call it that. It's outside with tables inches of the ground where you sit on on a mattress. I had Rotis. The next few days went in a blur of memories, smells, and just getting settled in. Then was our trip to Sravana Belagola, a place where we were to go see a bunch of Jain temples of naked statues. Ick!
We met our travel companions at the coconut stand, who were a guy named Philip, and Laura. That made five of us. We got on a rickshaw (Indian taxi) and were driven to the local out-of-town bus place. All the adults had me worried to bits about getting on the wrong bus by accident because nobody spoke English. We finally settled in on what we hoped was the right bus, and prepared for a hour long ride. Unfortunately, the ride was three hours long.
Well, we arrived Sravana Belagola and felt the urgency to use the toilet. We went to where we hoped to find one, not along walk from where the bus had stopped, and found two outside ones, like two large outhouses. Aeryk went to the men's outhouse, while me, Laura, mom, and two other western women we'd met who were coming from Mysore (Philip's friends) stood impatiently outside the women's one trying to stare down an Indian man telling us we had to pay. "We just saw men going in and out of the men's room!" was our excuse. The man scowled and went the bathroom door. He pulled shut the gate attached to the door and walked off. We stepped up and pulled open the gate to see a terribly rundown stinky, restroom. We stepped inside and saw a two stalls which led to holes in the ground, no toilet paper whatsoever. I thought this was really, gross, but it was better than none.
We met up with Philip and were hungry. Philip told us he'd seen a restaurant while exploring during the time we'd been at the restroom. He brought us to the place, which was small, but nice considering. I ordered my favorite Indian breakfast meal, Idli and that spicy sauce. Me, mom, Aeryk, and Laura planned to go to the hill where the biggest naked statue in all of South India stood. All these temples were on hills. Philip and the two women all went to different places. We went to the base of the hill and removed our shoes, as all the hill was sacred. Barefoot, we began the journey up the hill. Schools were on field trip there, and lots of kids looked at me and wanted to shake my hand. We reached the top, despite the smoldering heat, and found ourselves within a maze of ancient statues and temples. We saw the big man statue last. Wow, he was huge!!!
Down the hill was much easier than climbing it!! We reached the bottom and happily set out for the second hill, which was smaller and easier to climb. There were dozens of tiny temples on top, where a statue sat in each. That is where the other picture comes from. It's me climbing down the treacherously steep steps that led to where another section of statues stood.
We returned home safely, though incredibly tired, and I conked out. The next days have been great. Over the holiday we will take a sleeper train to Chennai, and from there a taxi to Mammallapuram where we will spend Christmas and the rest in a hotel with a pool and other cool fancy stuff. Then we go on a couple day trips, and it will all be great! It's really exciting to be here! I'm loving the food, and everything else about Mysore. I'm also excited to blog. Everything Is super duper!!!!

Yarrow

Drama on Second Street

2008-12-18T17:06:00.004+05:30

As if out of a Bollywood spectacular itself, high drama unfolded outside our window for two full days. As dusk took hold, a small ring of red plastic chairs held quiet men tending a road-side fire out front of the white house's entryway. Occasional gesticulations and proclamations came from this ring throughout the night and they tended the fire still as we went to yoga in the pre-dawn haze. On our return there were more people gathered, and throughout the day more and more arrived. Oh, a funeral, we thought. Usually there is celebration, lamentation, and the regular amount of wailing and praising that accompanies the body as it is paraded around the neighborhood. But here there was only more and more people gathering, with somber moods engulfing the neighborhood. Then there were screams and shrieks, then yelling. This was no usual rite! From the safety of my window I saw a young man held back by 4 others as he screamed back at a group still at the door. With his red shirt ripped and fresh scratches on his face, he was put in a car and driven off. Emotions tense, arguments arose, voices were raised, more visitors came- now by the truckloads, and after an hour the man was back and fighting again, only to be escorted away again. Like a drunk frat plebe, he managed to get back in the 'party' three more times, ultimately running along the upper corridor of the house smashing windows. The cops were called, but they only stood around occasionally directing traffic. Through our landlady we found out that this was indeed a death situation. A young man has died and his family is claiming the property at the expense of his wife/widow and child, who are vehemently contesting this transaction as they will be out on the street. As feelings were running high the new widow needed some time to think and skipped town, leaving everyone waiting for her signature on the paperwork. Only one person knew where she went, but the elder constantly feigns lucidity and wasn't talking. More witnesses arrived to pay there respects and put their two cents in. For a day and a half this went on, and a dead body in the living room added to this urgency. Apparently pre-nuptual agreements are rare, but leaving a body lying around to help people resolve their issues quickly is common. By the second night the paddy wagon showed up with more brown-uniformed police, the crowd dispersed, and a relative silence fell on Gokulam once again.

--- aeryk ---

Yoga Update

2008-12-03T18:47:00.002+05:30

I know many of you want to read more about yoga at the Shala, so here is your update...

Aeryk and I are greatly enjoying our practice here with Sharath and Saraswati. We have registered for our second month...how has the time gone so quickly?! We have had our time consistantly bumped up and are now sitting at the 5:45 time slot for Mysore class. We have been moved into the first group of led classes that begin at 4:30 am! I have enjoyed "sleeping in" for a while until 4:00am. Those lazy days are over now. We must arrive early to get a spot at that 4:30 class, and I still require a hot shower, jala and sutra neti, and a nice cup of hot coffee before practice, so I am getting out of bed EARLY, even by my standards. Not that I am complaining, I've been hoping to get an early slot since I arrived here.

Sharath has graced our practices with additional postures, which is also something I like, but added asana come like many gifts, with some price. For now our practices are still stacked, meaning longer. Also, any posture added one becomes responsible to practice every day for a scrutinizing audience of two very busy master teachers with eyes at the back of their heads. One cannot decide that today is a good day to take things "easy".

Amidst the power and beauty of the practice at the Shala, there is also a final exam sort of energy present most days. Some of the newer students here are struggling to stand up out of their backbends, a requirement to begin second series practice, and I think this can be a high pressure place to learn that "trick". More advanced students are performing their personal final posture before backbends often as if it were a test to be passed. Yesterday a man in front of me practiced kapotasana with such beauty and depth I couldn't help noticing him off the edge of my drishti. He came out of it, I think hoping he would receive the next pose. Sharath did not see him...so he did it again. The reality is that achieving the posture is only part of the advancement process. Sharath does not like to see too much ambition or grasping at postures. Students are forced to develop patience like any other asana...a little more gracefully over time.

Sharath is treating Aeryk and I like a matched set. He adds our postures often on different days, but he is keeping us even with each other. He helps both of us hold our ankles in our backbends daily, but with different instruction. For me now he tells me not to straighten my arms, but to leave the elbows bent and to relax my hands so he can move them higher. This is mostly just preparation and just once a small lift. It is counter to what I am accustomed to doing, which is straightening everything so I can attempt to balance on my own. I have done that only once since I have been here, with Saraswati's guidance. I had a really different feeling with the elbows bent, and I know that is helpful. Backbends only improve I think with new sensation. If one gets stuck in a groove, even a flexible groove, the spine looses the alive quality necessary for deeper bending.

Somewhere in the Shala, and in India, pure contentment, happiness and peace are coming to me and to my practice. When I stand at the front of my mat at the beginning of the day I feel my body breathing the prayer to the sun. I can feel myself emptying out - all the inner complications of my mind and emotions giving way so that a more pure unobstructed energy can move through. When I finish, as we do in the cool darkness of the ladies bathroom, I feel so soft and complete. I practice a long shoulderstand sequence, and one hundred breaths of Sirsasana daily. I don't lift up for long at the end. Sharath will keep us suspended long enough on Friday.

Vivian

Halebid and Belur, Bookends to Hassan

2008-12-03T18:17:00.007+05:30

Dora Samudra, razed in 1311 and renamed Hale-bidu or 'Dead City' was once the capital of the Hoysala dynasty spanning the eleventh through fourteenth centuries. It survived the sacking of 1141, but the Hoysaleshvara temple's original deity of worship is unknown. The temples of this period feature a star-shaped plan, a main hallway with many carved or lathe-turned pillars, carved ceilings, and a series of steps leading up to the structures which rest on the platform. Surrounding these are individually carved reliefs depicting the gods in their various forms. The lower 'rings' circumnavigate the temple and illustrate scenes from various Hindu epics such as the Ramayana, Mahabharata, and the Bhagavad Gita. These are some of the worlds oldest (and heaviest) graphic novels. Down the street lies the 13th century Jain complex featuring the Adi Parshwanatha temple and it's 16th century counterpart, the Vijayantha temple with it's 30' pillar out front. Hidden nearby in the trees awaits the smaller Kedareshvara temple, built between 1217-1221 for Shiva.

Not to be outdone, Belur was the previous Capitol before Halebid, and holds the still functioning Chennakeshvara temple built to celebrate King Vishnuvardhana's victory over Chola forces, independence from the Chalukyas, and his own conversion from Jainism in 1117. Just inside the walls near the impressive gopura (gateway tower) stands the original water tank full of green water, fish, snakes and turtles, and is also still in use. The golden gopura can bee seen looming over the main temple from inside the complex in the second picture.

--- aeryk ---

Food File # 1

2008-12-02T10:08:00.005+05:30

Here's a typical pile of dinner fruit. We purchase this from the guy down the street, soon to be featured in an upcoming "Who's Who in the Hood" series. I just checked Ralph's Thriftway online to compare prices. Bananas are .50 /lb., Pineapple on sale for $1, Limes run .79 each, Pomegranates are a whopping $6 each, and the $4.99 Papaya is probably half the size of the smaller of these pictured. All spent at home, approximately $29. Here on the street is $2. Sorry, folks. You've got to go to the source for the great deals...
Join us soon for an Idli and Dosa breakfast in Food File #2.

Bon Appetit!

--- Aeryk ---

Hassan Montage

2008-11-30T10:48:00.006+05:30

Hassan Montage

Retrospective windmills chased down,
Future power now- a hillside of forest turned to energy.
The journey's start: a series of double-takes and backtracks, three trips before the train, third destination settled on hours before departure.

Who am I when I have lost my way?

Heading out in the rain without a coat without a hat without boots--- who packed my bags?
Truck-stop industrial, one-park, one market, one bus station, walk in mud and grime and...
Hotel Sri Krishna provides.
Hassan welcomes with food and shelter for the night.
Now with TV-
Now with weather reports of storms-
Now storms bring terrors from the Seas on both coasts-
Cyclones and floods to the East
Gunfire and grenades in the West

Daytime provides glimpses
Of struggle and salvation
The stares turn to leers turn to points turn to laughs
And I turn away
Again I feel alone on the packed street
Find my strength in my own gaze

Crow curbside found a feast in a mouse
Tattered red dress barely contains the five year old
She takes the banana offered
Across the street- old woman
Gaping mouth draws flies is she still yet alive?

Two days almost two too long
Chance to turn the tide
Chance to change the weather
Searching for a signpost
Best Information Center in the book
Kannada speaking clerk offers the seats and hands the phone
Manager gives little English only and doesn't help

And the true purpose of the trip seems so far away
Trying to get out of town
Trying to find the way
Twenty busses twenty signs no English but plenty of stares
Ask five people and the answer becomes tenfold

Salvation!
Three busses, nine coffees, eleven temples
Redemption in the rain
Cleansed by Fire and Water
Purified in Air and on Stone
I found Spirit along the way

50-cent train delivers, but be quick!
Two minutes only to get on or off
Waiting to become human luggage again
Tattoo becomes testament, interaction, symbol of will
Now accepted enough,
For hours I ride lotus in a standing-room-only crowd

Mysore is green, I am home

--- aeryk ---

A Cherished Haunting

2008-11-20T18:57:00.007+05:30

An all too common sight- beauty and the familial become forgotten at the crossroads. The abandoned dwelling lay lost, forgotten, it's neighbor turning and eye, raising a hedge to block the blemish on the block. An ornate and significant arch spans above the door, welcoming and blessing the family no more. The race is on! Will this place of salvation be overrun and strangled with greenery to be pulled back into the Earth? Or will it be given a quicker transition, smashed and carried away in bucket fulls to become the next domicile, next to another haunting abandoned shell?

--- aeryk ---

The Scoop, the Dirt, the Word on the Street

2008-11-20T18:09:00.004+05:30

We know you've been waiting. Here's some words on the yoga...

We have been in the Shala a full three weeks now and have fully settled in to our routine, meaning that this is the first week without a missing day for holiday, moon, etc.

The Shala has many students these days. Last time we were here we began with something around a 6:30 am time slot and arrived at the coveted 5:00 am time slot by our second month. This time we considered ourselves lucky to receive a starting time slot of 7:45. Main Shala students begin as late as 8:30 these days, and the first time is now 4:45 (which is actually 4:30 am, as Shala time is always 15 minutes earlier than reality). As students progress in seniority per trip they receive increasingly earlier time slots in 15 minute increments, always dreaming of the day they will be the first ones in the door in the morning.

Sharath has given us three time slot premotions in three weeks, not too bad. 7 am seems very late, but we're on our way to early. Led classes are at 4:45 am and 6 am. We are currently in the 6 am group on Fridays and Sundays.

Those who have the first time slot on Mysore days cluster around the door before 4:30 am. When the door is opened they rush in...older more advanced students taking the front row, newer students taking pretty much any other spot, but having to negotiate with each other for preferred spaces, like not up on the stage, on a carpeting seam, or on the edge of the men's restroom. The next time slot is 5:45, then 6am, 6:15, etc. The entry room fills up with yogis with these assigned time slots, and Sharath and Saraswati will call "One More!" repeatedly over the morning to tell students when to come in. Waiting at the entry door is exactly like waiting to jump out of an airplane. You have your mat bag unzipped and you are ready to launch. The trickiest element here is knowing who goes next. Sharath will get irritated if there is any pause in coming forward, yet it can go very wrong if you think you are next and he thinks it should be a different yogi. Therefore there is some hesitancy at times with newer shyer students, just trying to figure these things out. The general rule is, first in the entry goes first in the room, Unless ...someone else walks in who is certified, authorized, or simply has more seniority than you, or maybe Sharath likes a little better. Thus far Aeryk and I have been shown a fair bit of preference...if he comes to the entry room door and sees us, as he did this morning, he will point to us and say "you next - then you", even if we were the last in the door. It does take the pressure off. One young man this morning was so scared to take his turn because one day he had been sent back out three times and barked at by Sharath for overstepping his place. This may now explain to you why it is everyone wants to be the first in the door at 4:30 am!

As odd as all this may sound, the Shala is my preferred spot on the planet right now. There are many things I am enjoying even more this trip than in the past. Sharath seems happier and more relaxed, in spite of or maybe because of rumors that he will be taking a long break from teaching soon. Really, though, I think it is because now he is fully in charge of the Shala. When we were here before, Guruji was still actively teaching, and there was at times a friction or confusion between them. When Sharath was away, students would ease up, break rules, have a bit of fun. Then Sharath would return and with him, the SmackDown! Now everything is always extremely disciplined, but also very calm and stable. Sharath seems very at ease, and we all know what to expect. Or if we don't know, we learn fast!

How the yoga here works: On your first visit, even if you just came off of tour with Cirque du Soleil, you start with Primary series only for your first month. If you cannot complete any posture of primary series, you get stopped at that pose until you can. There are some exceptions to that rule, mainly pertaining to time in or the overall quality of your practice. Many students are not even allowed to do backbending at the end of their practice during the week, or must do them on the marble floors of the restroom with the other finishing postures. If you have completed primary, you will slowly, one pose at a time and usually not more than one in any week, receive second series. This usually happens on month two, three or beyond. On subsequent visits you must return to only primary series for one week, then you can resume to the place you were at on your last trip. By the third week more postures may be added. This is where Aeryk and I are...we received far more this week than I expected, but after this I expect to recieve dribbles of second series only. Aeryk is ahead of me by one posture, as he was on our last visit. At this point it is not about being stopped at level of ability. Aeryk is "on" a posture he completes beautifully. He will be graced to the next one soon enough. We would be stopped if we came to a posture we could not complete. Sharath seems pleased with us, or at least, we haven't received any of his displeasure.

At the end of practice every day is the only posture we get adjusted in, the big ankle grabbing backbend. It is really nice to get adjusted in this every day, something I don't get at home. It is also good that we, thus far, have been strictly limited to the sequence of exactly 3 pushed up from the floor, 3 dropped back and stood up, and 3 "half backs" followed by the big one at the end. While I think my body would prefer to drop back many more times as I would do at home, I think it is super healthy for my mind to just have to do it without much warming up. Sharath or Saraswati is usually waiting at the front of our mats when we are dropping back and standing up. I assure you that if you can stand up gracefully with them standing there, you become master of urdhva dhanurasana!

Conference is held on Sunday afternoons. Now it is very strict, only registered students can attend. Sometimes Guruji makes an appearance, sits up on his throne and smiles at us all. Sharath sits on the floor of the stage and gathers us all as close as we can manage. He sits and talks with us, and answers any questions students ask. It is really lovely, though sometimes sweatier than the morning yoga!

Thus far, we have heard, we should all read the Bhagavad Gita again, preferably a copy from the RamaKrishna Ashram up the road. (I've already bought my new copy). We have been told we should include 20 minutes of chanting after our practice each morning, at home. Sharath has spoken on the importance of diet, mainly the import of having a vegetarian diet, in our practice, both for health and for Ahimsa (non harming). He has emphasized the need for us to follow the Yamas and Niyamas in the Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. He has talked about service, about having your employment be a form of service to others. He cracks a few jokes. I find myself really embracing Sharath as my teacher, this time in Mysore. I am trusting him and his vision, and ceasing to second guess his methods.

It is late now in Gokulam, and practice is at 5:45 tomorrow, so I should wrap this up. Sharath's led class is so deliciously hard, I wish you could all see me shaking in Navasana, maybe even cheating during the final lift at the end! I'll need some rest, or as Sharath said last week when we all seemed to wipe out, "More Chapatis!"

Vivian

Quick Farm Report

2008-11-20T11:10:00.007+05:30

We found out last week that there are a few pigs left in Mysore. Present in this litter was an albino; the cutest, runtiest, soon to be a kids-moviest little squealer you could ever imagine. I tried for a close-up, but it was so small I've had papayas bigger since I've been here. The mama pig was not going to let me get a close-up. Here she comes out of nowhere, scurrying them away quicker than the Jonas Brothers after playing a gig at St. Mary's School for Wayward Girls. The goats however, did not run quickly. Or at all. They were hunkered down across this stretch of grassy lot for a bit of lunch. I stopped counting after 30, but guessed the herd to be 60 strong. These may be a part of the same herd I saw last time... they probably have their usual migration patterns around town. I was too slow to get a photo, but I saw 4 wild ponies crossing the street yesterday. That's the quick farm report.

--- aeryk ---

"108, 108, 108..."

2008-11-19T14:51:00.002+05:30

I had to comment on this. I took a picture of this building last time I was here because I was captivated by the Seuss-like slope of the Eastern wall. I had hoped that it represented a very lit ramp, and not a foundation that had finally settled. It looks like one architect planned for three stories, but the window department was only available for two, so they compromised. The scary part is that this was a Hospital. Now, it is under renovation. The windows on the South side already show a makeover, each receiving a small balcony. Workers were scampering in and out of the West side, the whole wall gone, some carrying in goods like cement, brick, stone on the ground floor; others two or three flights up filling in the holes that used to be passages or windows. Safety is relative. In the foreground corner you can see a rarity in India: Western-style steel scaffolding. Most of the work is still done with wood beams and rope, whether it's an addition to an existing structure or something from the ground up. My guess is that this will become an apartment building. Incidently, just after we arrived Karnataka State implemented their quick response medical emergency hotline number. If there were an emergency at home, you wouldn't yell "Hey, somebody, My leg fell off-- go call that quick-response-medical-emergency-hotline-number!" You would calmly say "Holy crud-- call 911 !" In fact, maybe the whole interaction would be: "You O.K.?" --- "911, 911, 911..." and you'd know. Here they have another important number--- 108. Yes, when you are in India and you have just been trampled by a herd of goats, on ox cart, or a rickshaw, just repeat "108, 108, 108..." like a mantra and someone will surely understand that you need an ambulance. Then you can be taken to the nearest Hospital.

--- aeryk ---

Tomorrow Moon Slipped Away

2008-11-16T10:46:00.003+05:30

Late Moon
Set down too soon
Late Moon
Set down to rise
Sleepily tomorrow, less full
Yesterday too much Future to hold
Spill over our Thoughts
Spill over our Desires
Rise again tomorrow softer yet
Rise again tomorrow

--- Aeryk ---

How to Get a Lighter, An Indian Primer

2008-11-13T18:23:00.004+05:30

Suppose you want to get a lighter for something, say incense, candles, propane stove, any need at all for a hand-held flame. Maybe there are matches all around and you just prefer the feel and control of 'Manual Flaming.' It's your fire. You'd think that you could just pop down to the supermarket and pick one up at the register- or at a coffee shop that also sells tobacco products. You would be thinking Western. In India, you need to go to a Provisionist who sells provisions, things to live on; lighters, buckets, bangles and hair care products. When you ask for a lighter and have exact change, the transaction may end there if you don't get sucked into additional purchases. If you don't have exact change they won't either, and you will be forced to buy three. But that's fine, you rationalize, these things are like 2-for-a-buck at 7-11 anyway and these are 3/$1. Always light up in the store. I don't mean the incense, but the lighter. Try it out, make sure there is fluid in them. If you don't you will get home to find that they are not only low on fuel, but only have half of the usual capacity. But don't let that get you down. They are set on "Encore" setting, so large Iron Maiden can see them backstage and MUST hit the stage for three more numbers! The other half of the lighter has been altered and is now a flashlight. You can now look deep in your bag for your smokes or whathaveyou without setting your hair on fire. These India-flavored flashlights are very festive. Here's what I got in mine! I'm not sure if they are Bollywood babes, but I think I'm gonna go through a lot of incense while I'm here...

---Aeryk---

Election viewed from Afar

2008-11-13T18:05:00.003+05:30

Watching the American election from India was amazing. Trying to get news with a 13 1/2 hour time difference with constant power outages at an internet cafe was crazy in itself.

What stands out the most is the number of people, from countries all over the world, that have approached to congratulate me on the election. People from all over Europe and Asia have expressed happiness for me. In the past when we traveled here we would often respond when asked that we were from Canada, just to avoid negativity about our politics. It feels really different now to be out in the world as an American without shame.

A week later, India is still talking about it. Obama makes front page news here every day.

Vivian

Electricity, Part ll

2008-11-12T17:42:00.003+05:30

The other thing I need to say about the electricity her in India, is that the logic behind it all seems to take different circuits, pun intended. The voltage here is 220, compared to our 110, so everything I bring from the US must have not only an adapter for the plug end (a two to three flat prong for a two round pin plug) but a voltage regulator as well lest I blow it up! Everything else here is applied in the closest most unsightly at times places. It is common to see extension cords overloaded or running outside and up a flight of stairs for some reason. It's for something... My apartment is no different. I have halogen bulbs sticking out of the walls, and in this picture you can see behind me the only covered light- IN THE SHOWER ! Yes, I need to see those hard to reach areas, but it isn't even enough light to shave by in the mirror 4 feet away. Incidently, that red light in the panel behind me indicates that the power is on and my hot water heater is warming up. That's it, white & to the left. You can see the plug with the white attachment and black cord running practically through my shower stream. To turn it off, I must flip the switch right under the red light, which sparks a bit sometimes. If I do this quickly while standing in the pool of water, I may only get shocked a bit. I hope to write again soon-

--- aeryk ---

Monkey Attack!

2008-11-11T16:04:00.003+05:30

One thing I love about India is the amount of entertainment one can receive without ever leaving home. Yesterday for example... After yoga, just as Aeryk and I were sitting down for a little rest, snarls and squeals called us to the window. A troupe of monkeys were laying siege to the house, swinging off the coconut trees and on to our balconies and roof to steal the vegetables growing on the roof garden. Our landlady's dog Ruby was incenced, barking and running up and down the stairs trying to catch them. They growled and laughed at her, making their way back to the trees vegetables in paw. This continued all day, as long as the good food lasted, these monkeys had moved into the neighborhood.

A little later in the day, I was called to the window again by a very festive drumming procession. In this case I was witnessing an Indian funeral procession. I hope when I die my friends will send me off so well. The deceased sits enthroned in a portable pavilion of flowers, carried all around the neighborhood so that all can know about the passing. Men drumming take the lead, then the deceased, then more family and friends, and if one is well loved, lots of weeping women.

Every day in India there are sounds and rituals. At five every morning there is the Islamic call to prayer to enjoy with my coffee. There is wondrous drumming daily at the Ganapati (Ganesha) Temple in view from my roof. And as the monkeys demonstrate, even if you try to hang back or lie low, the action in India comes right to your door.

Vivian

Electricity

2008-11-11T15:42:00.006+05:30

There have been many advances in technology worldwide, India herself is quickly becoming a world superpower and celebrates the recent triumph of the lunar module encircling the moon as I write this. There is internet, landed and wireless, in almost every home that can afford it. Cell phones are seen on everyone but us. Despite this edge over our Earthly constraints, Mysore cannot get it together enough to figure out the power issue. The problems stem elsewhere, actually. Bangalore is currently in a bidding war with local power outlets and is reportedly letting the public know on Nov 13th, how screwed it will be on Nov 14th. We have currently been without power for a few hours each day, but it has increased to 12 hours without power in some areas. This us usually no big deal, but for us it means limited enjoyment of internet and other electric amenities. No stereo, no fan, no lights at night...we are running out of candles! Right now I am at Rishi's after having lunch outside at Anu's (where there is light) because the 'net-cafe' part has no backup generator. Two nights ago, I got up to turn down the stereo, when I realized that it wasn't on, that there had been music coming from down the street. At the end of the block was some sort of presentation/celebration being set-up. I took a look at the scene, being a fellow techie, and marveled at the grand scale of their low-budget hi-fi low-down on the throw-down. This roughly translates to "Wow. They sure get away with a lot here." They had set up a 3ft stage about 30 ft square, complete with a panel's table and eight chairs for dignitaries. Always a must for the outdoor ceremony in India: the metal podium. Heavy and hot. I flashed on Quai-Chang-Cain receiving his tiger and dragon scars lifting HIS hot, hot bowl of metal in the ever popular TV series, Kung Fu. Maybe you can also see behind the ice cream vendor the stack of hi-fi units. I think they used CD's and dual cassette action for this party. For five hours they pounded the airwaves with traditional adult contemporary music, and by that I mean the stuff your aunt would play if she were here. It's like Perry Como meets Carol Channing presenting a 50's Dharma Duel to the Death. Once in a while they would toss in a Bollywood hit, but again, it's like from the seventies, or something. A little side note on that ice cream vendor--- he goes around the neighborhood banging on a stick yelling, 'Ice Cream!' If they found out we have musical trucks running around, they would be soooo jealous. Back at the show, the speaker stacks are precariously placed on tables, eight to a set, all plugged in with freshly stripped and taped cables, one power cord running across the road with no cover. I guess the cattle know to lift their hooves. The sound is supplemented down the street for blocks with military surplus style metal speakers, like in M*A*S*H*. The Temple was lit up to match the drive in. Chairs were set for 100, and all this RIGHT ON THE ROAD! Yeah! these people can party! There was some announcing, a few live hits sung by kids, and more music until 11pm. In the morning everything was gone as if it never happened. Speaking of power, Rajini our hostess tells us our time is up. I must share the limited electricity.

--- Aeryk ---

Work Party, Part ll

2008-11-11T15:01:00.006+05:30

Work Party, Part ll. So the street crew weren't done, as illustrated by these photos. They worked another part of Gokulam for a few days, then back to our street with a vengeance. The crew of 12 or so finished up filling on/stripping out potholes in preparation for the asphalt saturation to begin. The diesel engines roared to life at 4 a.m. and the ensuing mad dash to finish began. Steam rollers followed the dump-crew who shoveled out the mix. These guys are pro's in a tight corner. They double-parked, parallel-parked, drove backwards around palm trees... WAAAAAAY more than any of us ever had to do for our driver's license test! Then, with the street mostly blocked off (this is still India) they finished off, coating the street in a wonderland dusting of snowy-white sand which crunches under our sandals almost like snow. If you click on the pictures, they should come full screen. Look at all the cool machines! Savor the almost soft to the touch sands in the 'archway shot.' That arch is new, so new that they haven't painted it up in 70 colors or so. This is next to the street sweepers village, housing a different street crew. After the flury on our block, as the last picture shows, they revved up their engines and sped across the busy street to work alongside the Ganapati Temple for a few blocks, and I never saw them again.

--- Aeryk ---

The Vantage

2008-11-04T12:25:00.005+05:30

Here is the view from our apartment. At the far end is the main road where the white and blue bus is whizzing by. Beyond it lay the Ganapati Temple in white, our source of bells and chanting nightly. Between here and there is the usual variety of side-street activity; scooters, pedestrians, auto-rickshaws waiting for customers, cars and motorcycles. As you may notice, the road is quite shoddy by our standards but fairly adequate by theirs. That was my impression until yesterday. Yesterday the street team came to work. This entailed 10-hour days of ten men squatting and sweeping or shoveling or pick-ax-ing or whatever need to be done with the road debris. I can see how the body can be predisposed for certain asana based on what movement life gives us in repetition. Around here, open hips are the norm. Almost everybody (of the working classes) is fit from a hard days work. After this hard day, I saw that there were indeed piles of rock at the sides of the street, but the potholes weren't filled in, nor were the bumps smoothed out. Maybe this is just the first phase or maybe this is all they do, spruce it up. Clean it bachelor-style. There was also the coconut fetcher who climbed up Shobha's trees to knock down the next harvest. No rope, just a good grip on the tree and machette. Both times, despite the deadly elements threatening the street, life went on and around the problem. Scooter riders barely looked up when the coconuts fell nearby with our landlady directing traffic in her own way. As the street crew worked, the main street was blocked off at one end by a few stones to remind people to slow down when swerving around a squatting sweeper. I'm soon off to run an errand, and I will be sure to look both ways before crossing the street.
--- aeryk ---

At home in Gokulam

2008-11-04T12:20:00.003+05:30

Here I am, happy and warm in Mysore. This picture shows the stairs to my apartment, upstairs in a three part house. Our place is the closest to the roof so I can stand up in the coconut trees and watch everything going on in the neighborhood.

The prevailing theme of my first two weeks in India is change, changes around me and changes in me.
When we first arrived in Bangalore I thought for a moment I had come to the wrong India. The airport is brand new, fancy, and clean - so completely different from the bustling chaotic dingy airport I expected to see.

Much has changed in Gokulam since we were here last, 20 months ago. The pigs that used to own the streets have mysteriously disappeared, as have most of the street dogs, and street children. The neighborhood seems quieter and cleaner. That being said, we showed up right in the middle of Diwali festival -, several days of celebrating, mostly with loud firecrackers and mini explosions.

Other than obvious external changes, coming back is showing me how deeply I have changed in the last couple of years. I am so much more relaxed here than I remembered from before. Joining into the flow of India seems so natural. All the scents, even the unpleasant ones, have some nostalgic appeal, so everything I experience I am greeting with happiness. Sleep comes easily, the crazy night sounds just flow over and around me.

I know I told everyone I needed to return to India to study yoga. Now I am accepting the truth - I came to eat fruit!

Vivian

Prologue Extended

2008-10-31T18:09:00.001+05:30

Eventually
Everything
Everywhere
Changes.
We have arrived. It is now day three, Friday, Halloween, the fifth and final day of Diwali, and the end of the yoga week at the shala. It has been like riding a whirlwind.
When Kara arrived to pick us up for the one hour ride to Seatac Airport, I knew we were in trouble. Last time around, we had no idea what we were getting into, we hadn't even packed yet as she stood in our piles that stretched from our living room, through the kitchen and back into the rest of the house. No, this time our 8 bags were mostly neatly packed and we gathered together as many loose ends, trying to weave a safety net to hold our lives together long enough for our return. But there were things we had to let go of, things that may possibly get done three months from now, perchance a few things to be taken care of via India, or perhaps things left alone forever. I really only obsessed on one loose tendril just out of my grasp: Shiva. He's the go-to guy here in Mysore. Need a room? Need cash exchanged? Need storage? Need a ride? Yes to that last one. That yes saved us last time, and I was determined to be saved again. For two days, I called Shiva from home trying to get through with no luck, hoping to secure a car ride from the Bangalore airport right to the doorstep of our apartment. Sweet! But this eventually required several calls to Verizon, and we were delivered from our dire with ten minutes before boarding our plane with our phones on hold until January. Close. The alternative would have been to get a cab with our 8 bags, then shuffle through the train station for our 3 hour rail odyssey south to Mysore if we get the express, then one final overpriced cab ride to our new home.
British Airways is not Singapore Air. I just wanted to tell you that up front. When it's your turn to make the trip to India, decide for yourself which discomforts you are willing to endure for the rewards of such a journey. Singapore Air features hand-picked beautiful stewardesses, attentive service, roomy seats, many pleasing video options, and stops at the Singapore airport, which has a swimming pool in the hotel at the airport. British Airways offers hand-picked middle aged stewards who were unable to do anything about the smaller seats and limited video selection for my particular tastes. The trip however, was much shorter- only 8 hours and 9 hours with only minor runway and change-over delays for our one-stop booking to Bangalore. As ticket rates fluctuate, this was not only the cheapest way to go this time, but it was also cheaper than last time .
On day one, 4:00 PM Tuesday/ 6 am Wednesday, 24 hours later, we arrived to a newly remodled airport with video screen advertising, food court, natural lighting and great ventilation. Gone were the stick scaffolding supporting the mud and brick that was our welcome walkway of 2006. There was work in progress...
The first picture, our beautiful Sun, our real and symbolic bringer of light, warmth, constance and hope, was captured while our familiar driver sped along the new highway on-ramp. I felt safe. It was warm. It was familiar, enough. But even the 6am ride showed the dichotomy of India; change and tradition. We passed familiar temples and landmarks interspersed with progress. New buildings, new businesses, five Coffee Day shops instead of two, and even a McDonald's outside Mysore. McWhat? I didn't stop to ask what's in the Hinduburger.
Some things stay the same. A few locals glad for our return, a few familiar yogi's, the upstairs apartment in the same building, and the shala running 15 minutes ahead of the world. Some things you can count on. On a second look, as the second shot from day two shows, some things change a lot. I know you don't know what to look for, (no it's not a Where's Waldo) but this festive house across the street was run down, abandoned and grey. Now look at it go. You go, party house! Other things were different and out of place. Our favorite eats, Tina's and Rishi's could not be found. Our tailor Lokesh had also gone missing. A nearby store is closed for it's transformation into a larger, fancier 'Nilgiri's store. That's good. But not for today.
Sorting out our lives is tiring with the time and space shift, and it's taken me 5 tries in two days to set these words to screen, but so far our needs are mostly met, the food is good, and we've found Rishi's new fabulous place as this day three picture shows, right after finding Lokesh in his new larger shop up the road. Yes, today is a good day. A really long, tiring end to a week that for those already here was a quick, light yoga experience. Tomorrow is Saturday, the traditional day off for yoga. Maybe then I will write more about pigs, helmets, and firecrackers. Then again, maybe I won't.
--- aeryk ---