Getting to the Heart of It

Varanasi – August 23, 2010

After a very long and somewhat wobbly train ride, we arrived in Varanasi. The train station was, of course, crazy and were relieved to find our pick-up for the hotel. We were going on 14 hours without much sleep, and no food, and that's enough to make anyone a little on edge. We jumped in an autorickshaw, which I have to say is really the way to get around in India, cars are far too big and just not as maneuverable. That said, in spite of our drivers' capable skills we were still stuck in a traffic jam for quite a while, due to a parade of sorts, and because of the festival that was going on (hence the parade) the rickshaw had to drop us about a 15 minute walk from our hotel. Under normal circumstances this would be fine, but seeing as Bart and I both looked like pack animals, with bags on both front and back, the guy leading us was walking at lightning speed and we were winding our way through a maze of 4 foot wide alleys, still dodging the normal numbers of people, cows, goats and of course, piles of poop, it felt like a taxing journey. But we made it, fairly unscathed, and only reasonably covered in mud (amongst other things, I'm sure), checked in, showered and immediately set out in search of sustenance.

We had decided we wanted to try one of the place suggested in our guidebook (not again, I know), but this one we chose because it detailed the fact that this restaurant is frequented by local people. True to its word, we arrived to an open-front cafe where all but one table were occupied by Indians munching on a variety of foods. We sat down and ordered – selecting our general choice when hungry, the thali. A thali is a fixed menu meal that usually includes rice, bread, dal and a couple of kinds of vegetable dishes. Bart has been ordering the “special” thali as of late for a couple of added bonuses like yogurt and an extra veg, but when our meals arrived yesterday it was out of this world! The amount of food brought to our table could have fed each of us for several meals. And the amount of butter atop the breads, curries and dal is probably more than I've consumed in the last several months. I have to say though, it was delicious. Satiated we found our way back to where we were staying and immediately fell asleep – full bellies seem to do that here, and everywhere I suppose.

After waking we headed out on our first real Varanasi adventure, making our way in the direction of Manikarnika, the main burning Ghat of the city, where cremations are performed round the clock and the ashes are auspiciously swept into the Ganges. It took a little negotiating but we did manage to find it, which if you could see the mostly unmarked passageways we're walking, you'd understand is no simple feat. On our way we met another group of lost travelers and between all of us we found a place where we could sit and watch for a while, as the final ceremony of life here was underway. Bodies are brought into Manikarnika, carried in procession through the alleys towards the Ghat, and then dipped in the Ganges before being placed on a well constructed pyre which then incinerates them. As we looked on a man (a priest we were told by a local) came out and threw things into the river. Though this is not an uncommon thing to see anywhere along the Ganges, what he was throwing was a little different. It seems that in the pyre not all of the bones will always burn, and those that don't are tossed whole, into the water. I think I had prepared myself to be more shocked by this entire process and being privy to it (and I'm talking covered in ash, privy), however after being here for a week it seems so fitting that this, along with everything else in India, is such a public thing. I'm not really sure how much the concept of privacy really translates into the Indian vocabulary.

After we'd seen enough at the Ghat our new local friend led us along the river to the Puja ceremony that they hold each evening on the bank of the Ganges. This hour long ritual of fire and dance brings luck to those in attendance as we make offerings of flowers and candles, the money spent to buy them bringing health to you and your family. The ceremony was incredibly beautiful, and I felt as if this was the India I'd been waiting for, as if I was seeing the heartbeat of a nation so large and diverse sending out the lifeblood of spirituality to all who live here.

We both agreed that today was one of the best days we've had here so far, and I think it's safe to say that I'm finally falling in love with India.

Varanasi – August 24, 2010

Woke up before dawn in order to join our new Spanish friends – Maria, Pedro and Arancha – on a daybreak boat ride down the Ganges. It was amazing to see the number of people out on the river at 5:00 a.m. doing all manner of things, from their morning bath, to laundry, to a ritual cleanse and “purifying” drink. There was a man performing a Puja ceremony, just like we saw last night, all on his own at one of the Ghats. The markets were already open and people were out buying their vegetables for the day, and the colours from the river were incredible – the patchwork umbrellas covering stalls, the women in the pink and purple and green saris, the orange flags marking the Hindu sacred sites, all set against the stepped bank of the river, the rows upon rows of hotels, temples and homes. The trip was wonderful and even when the sky opened and drenched us with the monsoon rains, I couldn't help but smile. Sadly for our friends, it was not so spectacular. The entire group is battling a terrible eye infection, and one of the girls, Arancha, seems to be having an adverse reaction to something she ate – and kept having to lean overboard to vomit. I have to say that I think one of the reasons we've yet to get sick (besides the weird bites/rash thing I have on my lower legs – beautiful, I assure you) is that we're taking antibiotics as our malaria prophylaxis, which, by the way, is interesting since we've seen only about 3 mosquitos since we arrived – though we have seen lots and lots of lizards.

After our boat ride we came quickly back to our room to change and grab my mat before we headed over to the Yoga Training Center – a tiny one room studio that fits about 8 yogis, where we took a wonderful class taught by Sunil Kumar and his wife Bharti. They provide yoga classes of all levels and integrate many different methods including Kundalini, Hatha, Iyengar and Ashtanga. It was a really well rounded class combining both gentle and intense stretching, pranayama, several variations on sun salutations, chanting, and strength work. Sunil and I chatted a little about Ashtanga and the fact that I was going to Mysore and then bonded over our common connection of having worked with David Swenson. He shared his philosophy on yoga with me, which resembles my own, which is that no one style is better than the others, we each just find our own path of yoga that is right for us, which is why he and Bharti strive to work with a blend of styles in the classes they teach. Bart and I both really enjoyed our experience, and are considering going back tomorrow if we've got time.

In the afternoon we took some time to explore the infinite number of shops in the Ghat area of Varanasi. Vendors sell everything from Rudraksh malas to wooden kitchen implements (Bart kept me away from those ones) and whatever it is you're searching for you can probably find in Varanasi. One of the things (okay several, but that's beside the point) that I've been looking for was indeed discovered today in a little shop above street level. There I picked out a very reasonable and pretty saree-to-be, and will be in search of a tailor over the next few days to sew the blouse and hem the actual saree for me.

After an afternoon rest for Bart we set out for dinner and ended up sitting on an outdoor terrace, just under cover, watching as the monsoon rains poured down on Varanasi. Down the river we could hear the bells and chants of the puja ceremony, the devout spending their evening getting completely drenched, and seeming to enjoy every minute of it.

Varanasi – August 25, 2010

I woke early this morning to the sound of boat men singing as they paddled down the Ganges. As I poked my head out onto our balcony to take a look I saw something wonderful – the sun!!! Immediately, I grabbed my mat and headed down to the terrace area to practice while Bart when back to bed. I saluted the sun as it rose over the river and felt wonderfully in sync this morning as my breath and body actually felt like partners in a dance. It was an amazing way to start the day, and a great experience that I'll never forget.

After a quick breakfast Bart and I again met up with our Spanish counterparts and headed out on a daytrip to Sarnath – the Buddhist pilgrimage city where the Buddha is reported to have given his famous sermon about the middle way. We were lead by Peter, a guide that our friends had employed the day that they arrived in Varanasi, and he and his friend took us over to Sarnath in their autorickshaws. We spent some time touring the famous stupa and ruins of an enormous monastery before heading on to several temples which comprise some of the different sects of Buddhism. However, all this beauty was overshadowed by Peter, who as it seems, got himself into quite a bit of trouble with the locals by harassing an old man begging at one of the temple gates. This resulted in several attempted street fights and Peter being followed by an entourage of angry men almost the entire morning, which set us all on edge. Determined to be rid of him as soon as we could to avoid any further trouble, we made up a story about being tired and needing to go back to the hotel, and so Peter returned us.

Thus began our food adventure! Our new friends are less than savvy about Indian cuisine and so Bart and I took it upon ourselves to help introduce them. We started with lunch at a local eatery where they all tasted a little of every dish we ordered, opening themselves up to dal, biryani, and channa. Afterwards we headed to the market alleys in search of “street sweets” as we took to calling them – our first attempt at street food and their first experience of Indian sweets. We got a bag full of different things which we all passed around and tasted, and I was quite proud of them for their willingness to try something different. Then, with a few quick shopping pit stops we made our way to the hotel where we hung out for the remainder of the evening, sharing stories and pakoras, lassis and language barriers. It was a truly enjoyable evening and we were sad to see it end, but Bart and I had to be off to the train station to catch our overnight train to Haridwar.

And if an evening can go from awesome to awful in a few short hours, ours did, as we sat on a rat-infested train station platform until 4:30 in the morning waiting for our delayed train. It was uncomfortable and awkward with a lot of homeless children sleeping in any variety of places and people with physical disabilities and ailments approaching us regularly for money. It was hard and heartbreaking, but also, it seems, a normal part of the India experience. The one thing that continued to make us laugh as we tried so hard not to fall asleep before the train arrived was the huge cow circling the platform every 45 minutes or so. How did that cow get onto platform 4? What train was he waiting for and was he, too, upset about a delay? Oh cows, you keep us laughing in all the interesting and unusual places we find you – you are part of the charm of India.

Lost and Found!

We were lost - at least to the internet, but now we're found. Please stay tuned - there will be a new post tomorrow or Monday - maybe even both. We've been crazily travelling from city to city - Varanasi, Haridwar and finally to the yoga capital of the world, Rishikesh - so you know I'll have a lot to say. Plus we've been doing yoga!

So thanks to all of you for your patience!

Much love and Namaste!

Power and Powerless

**This blog has no photos today because I'm having A LOT of technical difficulty. I promise I'll show you them when I get home, or you can try www.charmcityyoga.com where hopefully there will be a photo or two thanks to the lovely Allison Korycki.**

Agra – August 20th

A 4:45 a.m. wakeup call had us up and out of Delhi before daybreak yesterday morning. As we headed off to Agra, with dreams of the grandiose Taj Mahal dancing before us, we couldn't help but relish both the adventure to come as well as the escape of the somewhat oppressive aggressiveness of Delhi's drivers, sellers and their persistent touts.

As we've come to now expect, the train was rather late arriving into Agra, but we were pleased to find our ride waiting for us as we headed towards the Taj's walled grounds. And that's when disaster, albeit minor, struck. As we drove through town, our autorickshaw driver was giving us the hard sell for his tour around the city, and one of the things that he mentioned was that the Taj was closed. Being seasoned travelers we had heard this line more than once before, and so brushed it off as a tactic to convince us to employ his services. Little did we know (good job Anna, why read your guidebook?) he was not trying to mislead us. Another Islamic based site, the Taj, as we came to find out shortly thereafter, is indeed closed every Friday to allow Muslims to use the attached mosque.

Our hearts broke as we realized we would not get in to see India's most famous piece of architecture – our train on to Khajuraho was leaving that evening. In an attempt to make the most of our day we headed off to Agra Fort, which not only has it's own incredible architecture, but also stunning views of the Taj, which would be Shah Jaman? Last view as he spent nearly a decade imprisoned there while his son was off enjoying the fruits of his labour. We decided to walk (of course) and just as in Delhi, everyone was surprised when they saw us walking rather than riding in some sort of motorized vehicle. On the way I was scared to death by the screams of an angry monkey running after me with teeth bared. I had apparently encroached on the territory of his mate and baby, and there was hell to be paid. Bart, of course, found this to be hilarious, and I'm still being subjected to the “angry monkey” face regularly. We saw and toured the fort, once again enjoying the quiet and relative emptiness of the sites, which is one of the benefits of being here during monsoon.

Afterward we headed back to the area around the Taj where we had some lunch and conversation with another traveler – who felt, as we do, that one of the most difficult things about India is acclimating to the intense and widespread poverty. The hardships of life here are inescapable, and it is hard to come to terms with your own abundance and privilege as you watch people around you struggling just to survive. This in itself has been one of my main lessons and yoga practices since I arrived – working to cultivate this awareness and understanding without allowing it to overshadow all the beauty that India has to offer.

Our lunch was enjoyable, but made even more so, by the approach of an unexpected guest, as a cow made her way into the lobby of the hotel housing the restaurant for her lunchtime portion of chapati.

And afterward we spent a little time wandering around the area and then went to the room we had booked just for the day for a shower, a rest and, of course, some yoga. My hour long practice was made all the better by the heat of the day, the loss of power and therefore air conditioning, as well as the spectacular view from our window. As I made my way into shoulderstand, the Taj was just at the tip of my toes.

After a relaxing afternoon Bart and I sat on the terrace and sipped lassis as dusk fell on the huge white domes and the still evening air was filled with the sounds of Muslims singing after their call to prayer. Then as night took over and a huge flock of bats soared overhead we bid farewell to this famous city, at least for the time being. We have made (and will execute!) a new plan to return to Agra on our second to last day of traveling rather as a day trip from Delhi. And don't worry – it's a Wednesday.

Khajuraho – August 21^st and 22^nd

While we found having cows wandering the streets of Delhi slightly disarming, here in Khajuraho it more normal than not. In fact a variety of livestock roam the streets here – and it seems they generally have the right of way when dealing cars, autorickshaws and pedestrians. In fact, there are animals everywhere here; goats on the roof of the supermarket, herds of cows laying in the road, peacocks on the terrace of a nearby restaurant. There are wild pigs basking in the monsoon mud and water buffalo pretty much anywhere you turn. But it doesn't stop with what we would consider “domesticated animals”. Today, while walking (once again disappointing rickshaw drivers everywhere) the 6 kms to and from Reneh Falls we also sighted a jackal (or maybe a hyena or wild dog – it's hard to tell, you know), a male peacock with perfect tail feathers and what we believed to be a gharial, which is an endangered species of crocodile they have here. It was all very exciting and definitely wouldn't have been possible if we'd been in a deafeningly loud tuk-tuk.

Although the local fauna has been keeping us quite happy, the real drawing point of Khajuraho is the four groupings of Jain and Hindu temples, many decorated with tantric sculptures and carvings, which despite all odds have managed to survive the last 1000 or so years. Yesterday we spent the morning wandering the most famous and well preserved group, and the afternoon enjoying the peace of the Jain temples complete with large and beautiful Buddha statues. The temples were for us, as well as their creators, sanctuaries from the crazy world outside. Just as in Delhi and Agra, Khajuraho is overwhelmingly full of people in need and they are not afraid to ask you to part with your Rupees, water bottles, pens, umbrellas, earrings, watches, or anything else they deem to be of value. Sadly, the majority of these are children, and saying no is a difficult task. Of course we would be happy to part with any of these things if we felt that the corresponding value would actually be helpful to the kids, but more and more we are feeling that there is something or someone much more sinister who is reaping the benefits. Instead, I've decided that once I get to Mysore I'm going to try to find somewhere to volunteer once I complete my practice for the day, thereby hoping to make a more lasting difference.

I'm sorry that it's been a few days since my last post. Internet, and particularly wi-fi, is not quite so accessible here, and I wanted to be able to upload photos with my posts. Also, due to the fairly regular loss of power (not including the mandatory shut-off in Khajuraho from 9-10 a.m. and 4-5 p.m.) and subsequent loss of everything you've typed that's not saved and still have to pay for the internet time you “use” during a failure, there's a definite possibility that if I had tried to type this directly into the blog without saving it as a word document first...you'd be getting a much less descriptive, far more succinct accounting of what's been going on – I rather think it wuld resemble this:

Love you. Miss you. Wish you were here with the pigs, goats, cows, peacocks, water buffalo and the sex statues.

Side note about food: So today we had the best food we've found so far in India. In most of the restaurants the food has been good, but neither as spicy nor as flavourful as either of us had expected. And we realized we've been eating in the places where a lot of the tourists eat because the food is “safe”. FORGET THAT IDEA! This afternoon we walked into a restaurant down the street and the first thing we noticed was that all the tables were occupied by Indian men and women enjoying their lunches...a ha! The resulting food was spicy (once we could convince the waiter that we wanted full force curries), steaming hot and made from fresh ingredients, rather than frozen veggies, which we've been getting in many places. The chapatis that accompanied the meal were so hot from the stove we couldn't even rip them without burning our fingertips. We're going to bed on our train tonight with very full and happy bellies.

Not For the Faint of Heart

Our first full day in Delhi, and I can completely understand all the warnings I had received before we left. Words like "busy", "chaotic" and "intense" that were thrown at me over and over again cannot even begin to describe the Delhi experience.

The first thing that I noticed is that everywhere in Delhi things seem to be in a constant state of construction or, conversely, deconstruction, making the heavy equipment, piles of bricks and rubble completely commonplace. The other constant is the noise - seriously - the noise! The honking, the yelling, the dog barking, the throat clearning, the persistant touts of "hello madam -where are you going" all blend into the din that makes up the background noise of almost every moment spent inside or out. Even at 6:30 this morning, as Bart and I went for a quick morning walk the normal quiet of that time of day was non-existant, life in Delhi, it seems, never finds silence.

And of course, there's the rain. Traveling to India during the monsoon, we knew it was likely, but were quite prepared to deal with wet weather; we've got quick drying clothes, trusty umbrellas, and (as you all know) sunny dispositions. However, when we boarded our autorickshaw this morning bound for Lal Qila, the Red Fort, we had no idea what laid in store. The fort itself was beautiful, quiet (as much as you can get) and peaceful, with far fewer crowds that we hand anticipated, in part thanks to the the steady stream of rain the overcast sky was releasing. We walked through the endless gardens and pavillions, gazing at the gorgeous Mughal architecture.

After the fort we headed over to Jama Masjid, an enormous mosque, built to hold over 25000 devotees. Being the people that we are, we had opted to walk to the mosque, stretching our legs, getting our bearings and severely disappointing and confusing the onslaught of rickshaw drivers who would be only too happy to take us to the mosque (WITH a one hour pre-tour, only 40 rupees). Turning people down is exhausting. Especially when you're turning them down for a dollar. ONE DOLLAR. But sadly, we've found that it's better to just keep going, game face on, and make your way to your destination. So we made it to the mosque and took a short look around - beautiful, amazing, and full of sleeping Muslims, most likely resting as part of their Ramadan fast.

Wanting to believe in our own self sufficiency, we opted to find the subway (let me just say signage, NOT a strong point in Delhi) and see if we could make our own way home from the metro and railway station to our hotel - a mere three or four blocks. By the time we emerged from the metro we were happy to see the rain had let up, but after 4 or 5 hours of rain, all the water had to go somewhere. We left the station grounds and rounded the corner towards our hotel to find the entire street completely flooded. At home this would call for detours, for police directing traffic, for warnings on the radio. In Delhi, this means, roll up your pant legs (high), hope your shoes stay on, and walk through dodging the still speeding auto and bicycle rickshaws, cabs and horse-drawn carts. When in Rome, as they say.....and so we had our first true monsoon experience!

After all that excitement we needed three things desperately - a hot shower with lots of soap, a hearty meal, and a restoring nap. I am happy to report we've been successful at all three.

The evening plans are now under way and I'll definitely find time to roll out my mat before we turn in for the night, but it'll be an early one for us...it's a 5 a.m. wakeup call to head back to the train station to make our way to Agra tomorrow morning. We're hoping they've pulled the plug on the street by then.

Down Dog in Delhi

Namaskar!
Namaste!
Hello to everyone from Delhi!

So we're here, we're alive and we're practically unscathed, despite a harrowing car ride from the airport to the hotel. The fact that we needed a push-start (Little Miss Sunshine style) to get the car moving in the first place, should have been an indication of what the 30 minute journey would entail, but until you're having the experience I don't think you can really understand. Luckily, our trusty driver Sanjay was adept at what Bart would describe as the "whip and weave" and what he lacked in volume of voice he made up for with honking.

It's nearly 11 p.m. in Delhi, and despite my best intentions, I am not tired in the least. Bart, of course, is exhausted and by the time I finish typing this entry I suspect he'll be off in dreamland. And while it's probably best for me to try to get to bed sometime soon, I think I've got just enough energy to unroll my mat and do my first practice on Indian soil (or tile, and we're on the 4th floor, but it counts anyway).

I hope you all are enjoying your afternoons over there in the Western Hemisphere, and once we get out tomorrow and have a chance to really look around I'm sure I'll have more to write, but for now, good night, sweet dreams, and we'll be talking again soon.

The Final Countdown

We're entering into the last few days before we hop a plane for the other side of the world. And while all this excitement is mentally preparing us for our trip, life seems to get in the way of the physical preparation. Lists are being made, and oh so slowly things are being checked off, although every time I finish one thing, there is suddenly a new addition to be made. And whether it is something new on the to-do list, the to-pack list, the to-see/call list or the to-buy list, there just seems to be a never ending supply of chores, necessities and sudden realizations.

Luckily for me, I can be flexible! (Ha ha, there's a little, not so witty, yoga humour for you!)



So, every day for the next four days I'm just going to begin in the morning and work to check as many things off of as many lists as is humanly possible, creating space for the countless other things that will be penciled onto the end, in the tiniest writing, so that I don't have to add another page of paper and thereby make myself crazy.

In the midst of all the listing and the packing and the prepping and goodbye-ing I'm trying to remember the inspiration behind this whole thing, and making a single word one of my top priorities: breathe. And every day when I complete my practice and can cross off today's "breathe" and add another one for tomorrow, lists become much more friendly, packing much more manageable and the excitement of departure overtakes the insanity of preparation.

We're in the final countdown, let the games begin!