Photos I Haven't Taken

I still feel a bit conspicuous hauling my camera out, but on my ride to the Mandiram, I always see these two signs: "HERE IS A TEMPLE! DO NOT COMMIT NUISANCE!" and "No bacteria! Only Arokya [brand of milk]!"

How nice to see truth in advertising.

Fashion Emergency

Caroline, long and lean with a fresh-scrubbed face, looks like she stepped out of an ad for Cali. She mentioned to me today that she is a student (finishing up her degree in Japanese/East Asian studies)/business owner/yoga teacher. I asked what sort of business she ran, and she responded, "Wellll, it's a long story:" She put her studies on hold a few years back due to Severe Anxiety Disorder. She couldn't leave the house by herself, but wanted to work, so she tried to come up with something that would allow her to stay home and blend her interests. Shopping online was still relatively new, her sister was a web designer, and right after she told us how much she loved thrifting and vintage clothing, I said, "You're Caroline's Closets!" (And she is! Did anyone see her on the Style Network? I think I've seen that bit about 100 times now.)

Balancing work and yoga was on everyone's mind. Lovely Panilla, whose practice astounds all of us, began her life in London as an illustrator before working as a makeup artist. She currently teaches at the very chic Triyoga, a North London studio I've read about in all the Brit mags. Panilla's teacher was a fashion photographer, working for clients like Gucci, who told her that finding the balance between her work and her yoga was something that would come naturally.

We're not all there yet. The conflict between fashion and its inherent superficiality with how one lives her yoga is one I am still negotiating. Over the past year, being out of New York for chunks at a time, cut off from city stresses, and my former life of always striving to be in that first wave of people who know has been hard, to say the least. I miss going to store openings and drinking champagne from the open bar and sneaking cigarettes outside and looking at off-duty models and granting air kisses to people I barely know. I do.

My dad maintains that one's job can be just that: a job. A place you can go, and work, and leave. Spending time pondering sradharma (the duty to do the right thing at the right time) doesn't align so well with that. But I'm searching--and I guess we all are--for how to balance that fluffiness with how I want to live and who I want to be. Being here forces me to think about how I can create the life that I want to lead.

(I know this post veers into emo territory...sorry, this is just on my mind 24-7).

Meet Mr. METY

I'm not entirely surprised that Mr. METY (More Enlightened Than You) has decided to attend KYM. You probably know him: he talks endlessly of his profound understanding of _______ (fill in the blank with the sacred text of your choice), yet asks the sorts of questions that you probably pondered once, in college, stoned off your ass, with your dearest friends while eating Cheetos before collapsing in a fit of giggles. He is always interrupting the teacher, often prefacing his point with "Once, I practiced asanas for ten straight hours" (to which my neighbor and I looked at each other with a good long eye roll) or another non-essential piece of information. When a teacher explains a Sanskrit word, he disagrees--I don't think because he really disagrees, but to show that he knows the root word, or that he's read another author's interpretation.

Don't get me wrong: We shouldn't blindly follow, we should question our beliefs and those presented to us. It's just that at some point, questioning everything ("Did Patanjali really have a thousand heads?") becomes less about curiousity and more about cockiness.

The Daily Grind

Ask and ye shall receive. What's my day like? The deets:

Sometime between 5:30-6am I wake up and get ready to leave. I usually catch a rickshaw (sadly, Vijay dissed me yesterday) and head over to the Mandiram.
7-8am Morning practice This has been getting progressively more intense. Today I felt sort of lazy and couldn't stop thinking about chocolate.
8-9am Breakfast The Mandiram provides a lovely breakfast every morning, usually plain yogurt, and a rice or rice-like dish, with chai and coffee. There are also baskets of fruit.
9-10am Jijnasam (theory of asana and pranayama) So far, we've discussed (and will continue to discuss, I reckon) how practicing yoga must give you balance.
10-10:15am Break We drink from coconuts, chat amongst ourselves, solve the world's crises and then head back upstairs.
10:15-11:15am Anusasanam (yoga philosophy) My favorite class! Menaka, our teacher, is amazing, explaining everything with such clarity and grace. This is the class in which I am slowly starting to comprehend bits and pieces I've heard before relating to the Yoga Sutras.
11:15am-3:15pm Break Some of my classmates have joined a Vedic chanting class. I usually spend this time running errands, eating lunch, reading, chilling and catching up on email. I am at my local internet cafe now, updating Bravermundo before going to grab something to eat.
3:!5-4:30pm Cikitsa Kramam (application of yoga) This class deals with the therapeutic aspects of yoga. We look at other students and discuss how to adapt teaching to their particular issues.
4:30-5pm Tea break More chai (or coffee) and little cookies.
5-6pm Dhyanam (meditative practice) Light asana practice, a little meditation, a lot of discussion of how to fulfill dharma.

And then we're done for the day. Sometimes I head straight home, other times I go shopping or wandering. Chennai doesn't exactly have a hopping nightlife scene, so early nights are the norm!

Essential News

Bless my mom, for sending the following in an email:
the big news in People is that both Trinny and Susannah [from BBC's "What Not to Wear"] are preggers!!
Trinny with No1 and Susannah with her third. Bennifer is still headline news. The
Laci Peterson case is once again the cover story. and in US, Jerry Seinfeld will
be making an appearance on Larry David's show this upcoming season.

When I ask for updates, she gives me updates. I haven't had a chance to peruse Page Six online with my usual fervor, so if you have any word on celebs, socialites, and model slash actresses, by all means bring it.

My personal path to enlightenment may have to include US magazine.

Sleep, Glorious Sleep

For those of you who've been concerned (Hi mom!), I got a good night's sleep last night and woke up naturally this morning at 5:48am, 15 minutes before my alarm. This made my practice this morning about 100% more enjoyable, though my knees, ever rebellious, were snapcracklepopping because they are so not team players.

Think Pink

Not that I'm one to doubt a Diana Vreeland maxim, but pink really is the navy blue of India. Men ride pink and green bicycles through the streets; raspberry saris blend into the crowds; the buildings across the street from the Mandiram are painted pale bubblegum pink. Speaking of bubblegum, Juicy Fruit in a pink package is at my market. I think it's strawberry flavored.

What we talk about when we're not in class:

Vipassana retreats; pilates vs. yogic breathing; how much you paid for that pashmina; sketchy water I drank in Delhi; Krishnamacharya's thoughts on diet; how much do tiny bananas cost; where I bought my kurta; the sweet breaks in Bali; meeting the Dalai Lama; how to translate the Yoga Sutras. And so on.

I want my MTV India

I turned on the telly Tuesday night to discover BBC World and MTV India. The former is keeping me from feeling completely out of touch with current events, the latter boasts a show called "Style Check," which is sort of like House of Style and hosted by a Downtown Julie Brown lookalike who offers hair advice.

I could use her help, seeing as how I look like I've been to hell and back by the end of each day. My face shines--and not in the glowy, pretty way. My hair is a rat's nest. No matter how cute I look in the morning, my outfit is stretched out, sticky and wilted by the time I return home. For the first time in years, I understand the appeal of a shaved head.

Hey, Mr. Vijay

I finally have a driver. Admittedly, this sounds much fancier than it is. Vijay is the Nan Kempner of the New Woodlands Hotel, always calling out "Hello!" to the KYM and Colgate University students who make the hotel their home during their stay. Everyone is his friend, and he has the pictures to prove it. Inside his rickshaw glove compartment, he keeps photos of his passengers, and has stories about them all.

Vijay drove me to class on Monday and interviewed me the whole way there. We covered "Where are you from?" and "How long is yoga?" as well as how many people are in my family, how I like India, and whether or not I drink. Vijay seemed sad to hear that the answer, for now at least, is no; I think he and the Colgate students go out and get wasted on Saturday nights. Somehow I think missing this is okay.

Tuesday Vijay drove me to and from class, which was superconvenient. Part of his schtick is trying to convince me to go to a store or restaurant that likely gives him a kickback ("Rebecca, you like the beach?") but he is happy to explain just about anything about Indian life.

At least once during each journey, Vijay asks me if I'd like to drive. He claims that "Indian people will be amazed when they see white girl driving rickshaw. They will cheer!" While this is tempting, navigating the chaotic Chennai traffic is not at the top of my to-do list.

The real reason I keep getting in Vijay's rickshaw is because when I told him my age, he said, "You are not 22?" Also, he has a teapot-shaped Hello Kitty clock that makes me smile.

I'm here, I'm here!

To be totally honest, things got sort of shitty after departing the Zurich airport (as a side note to those of you who are interested in duty-free: I'm passing through Zurich again on my way back, and the Hermes store there has the Twilly scarves, which are all but gone in the US, plus, they're cheaper. Let me know if you want one!) The duty-free with candy also has giant bins of Maltesers, a few of which may be coming home with me.

Sooo, the flight from Zurich to Mumbai left me feeling quite ill. Ill enough that I barely touched my dinner, and slept rather fitfully. Arrival in Mumbai was neither easy nor breezy--the minute you exit the airport, a crowd almost swallows you. They want to take you to a hotel, carry your bags, ask you questions, and you are so tired and so overwhelmed that you consider walking back into the airport, handing over your credit card, and booking a return flight home.

I couldn't sleep at all that night. I left the next morning in an aggravating amount of panic. Sunday, I flew from Mumbai to Chennai via Indian Air, checked into my hotel in Chennai, slept a bit, and headed over to KYM (Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram) for an introduction/orientation. There are 28 of us in the program and we are from all over. It seems the largest groups are from the States and Australia, but we've also got yogis representing Bulgaria, Spain, Singapore, the Netherlands, England, Italy and Austria.

We introduced ourselves to the group (I am a Becca again because there is another Rebecca) and received jasmine garlands and a bag full of books. To celebrate Ganesh's birthday, we ate sweets and tea. Once I started to get a sense of what my days would be like, and with whom I'd be spending them, I felt more at ease. I joined a small group for dinner nearby and our bill came to about $7--total. For five of us.

I returned back to the hotel to unpack my stuff and found that my shampoo bottle had opened and its contents were coating a good portion of my belongings, not to mention the inside of my suitcase. Argh! So, after a particularly OCD-fuelled cleaning sesh, I tried, again, to sleep.

And didn't. I looked at my clock every 30 minutes, fixated on a chirping bird and the faint sounds of a wedding nearby. Getting up for 7am yoga was really not a big deal, considering that a)I hadn't slept, and b)some considerate soul knocked on my door at 5:30am (I have no idea why). I took my first Indian shower (shower head in the wall, a bucket beneath it) and watched my bathroom floor fill with suds before wisely deciding that hair-washing would be saved for another day.

I hopped into an auto rickshaw* and started to relax. Before 7am, the streets are still busy, and tons of people are out, but it's not oppressively hot (yet) and careening through the streets does have its faint charms. Because there are few sidewalks, the streets are not solely for traffic, and watching who (and what) is coming and going is fascinating: children balancing huge baskets of fruit on their heads; families of four riding comfortably on Vespa-like mini-scooters, the mother balancing a kitten in her lap; people waiting for buses; cows walking contentedly in the road...

(*About auto rickshaws: these are three-wheeled vehicles that remind me of the little toy cars that parking police drive in New York. They can just seat three in the back, four if someone sits with the driver, and, like all traffic in India, you often hurtle into the path of a large bus before making a sharp turn. )

I arrived just after 7am to find asana class in full swing. I had worried that the class would be trying, especially since my regular practice has been inconsistent since leaving New York, but it was mellow and allowed me to chill out a little, despite my new tendency to point my toes, but I blame that on Pilates. At 8am, we went downstairs for breakfast--plain yogurt and small pieces of soft bread, with chai and coffee. There are two more morning classes, one focuses on theory, the other on philosophy, and there is also a Vedic chanting class that is optional. I went to Monday's class to see if I would join, and while I love to hear others chant, I always feel like an off-key choirgirl.

I had big plans for the break (chanting ended at 12:30, our next class is at 3:15), planning to catch up on email (okay, my first plan was to find the internet cafe) and run some errands. I made it to the grocery store, then back to my room, where, I am ashamed to admit, I fell into a deep, much-needed sleep, missing the afternoon classes. Oops.

Anyway, I've gotten some emails about how I found KYM and other yoga-related queries, so I will post a summary soon. In the meantime, if you have, in the words of Judy, questions, thoughts, concerns, or comments, write me and I'll answer here or privately.