Food File # 2

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

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

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

--- Aeryk ---

In Motion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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..."

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

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

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

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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 ---