Week 6 - Home!

After taking a week to settle in back home, I finally got around to finishing this last post.
Conclusion of India Part 4, hope you've enjoyed following the journey!

Monday, March 7th was Shivaratri, one of India's favorite holidays honouring their beloved god Shiva and his divine union to Parvati (or Shakti - feminine essence, power). Isabelle and I started our day with a street chai on our way to yoga class with Ashish (whom, I must point out, Isabelle had become quite infatuated with - as is the case for many of the ladies who attend his classes!). Then, since Shivaratri is an auspicious day to do so, Isabelle and I walked along the river to a deserted spot for our cleansing Ganga dip (in not so clean, but magical, water). Stopped in a for a refreshing lemon mint drink at the "Last Chance Café" (end of the road leading to our dip spot) on the way back. We then crossed the Ramjula bridge and walked up the hill to the Sivananda ashram for a short sit in the small, colourful meditation hall, where for the past hundred years or so there has been a non-stop stream of the maha mantra (Hare Krishna) chanted by a monk (on rotation). Back down the hill at the rickshaw parking lot, we picked up some samosas and pakoras (Isabelle's favorite street food so far) before catching the 20 cent boat ride back to our side of the river. It was then time to get ready to head to Parmarth Niketan (the biggest ashram of the area, where the International Yoga Festival was happening) for Ganga Aarti, a daily river worship at sunset. Today's was particularly festive for Shivaratri, with hundreds of people, lively music, singing and dancing. When we had had enough of the crowds, we headed to the Health Café for dinner, and then (for balance of course), we ended the day with some sweets from the bakery.

Tuesday morning we each went up for an ayurvedic consultation at the clinic-spa on the top floor of our hotel. I came out of mine with the realization that I wasn't kapha after all (if you don't know what that means and you are curious, ask me...) and Isabelle came out of hers with tears and newfound life goals. Pretty powerful stuff. We shared our experiences during the almost hour long walk to Ramana's Garden, a vibrant and inspiring place I discovered with Cindy and Lorraine on my last trip: a lush plot of land that houses an orphanage, school rooms for the kids, gardens where the children help to grow fresh organic food and a café where the kids as well as volunteers work to prepare and serve delicious food infused with love. We had a wonderful lunch and soaked up all those good vibes. Next stop was the little stone shop for mala bead buying (the same place and lovely couple that my Trika friend Scott had introduced me to in 2012, which I have been to on every trip since). The lady served us a deliciously spicy and fragrant cup of chai while her husband told us about the different types stones and their healing properties. That evening we went down to the basement of our hotel where the Children of the Ganges classroom is situated. We listened to the kids sing their opening chants, then taught them how to play UNO (merci Isabelle Truchon!) and they went nuts for it. The day ended with a scrumptious dinner at Oasis, and banoffee pie for dessert - cookie crumb crust, banana paste center, smooth toffee topping. Yeah.

Wednesday morning started with a street chai on our way to our last class with Ashish - evidently one of the saddest moments of the trip for Isabelle ;) As it was our final day in Rishikesh, we had quite a bit of last minute shopping to do that afternoon. When we needed a little break and energy boost, we stopped at a street wallah for a glass of fresh sugarcane (with mint and lime) juice and then a few steps over to his neighbour for a bowl of chaat, a messy but scrumptious mix of fried potato patties, chickpeas, curd, green chutney, spices, topped with salt and crushed crispy bits - a veritable party in the mouth. In the evening, after sunset, to mark the end of our time in Rishikesh, we walked down to the river for our own personal Ganga puja. We each bought a little flower floater bowl from the boy at the top of the ghats, walked down the steps to the water, removed our flip-flops, lit the fire stick in the flower bowl, infused the floater with a thought of something we wish to let go of, then placed the floater onto the water and let the current take it away. I haven't asked Isabelle yet about hers, but I can confirm that what I chose to release has indeed begun to dissipate with a little help from the Ganga. For our last dinner we went to a local ashram that serves the best and cheapest (60 rupees - $1.20 - per plate) thalis in town. Then up to the bakery for a final cappuccino and pastry after which Isabelle headed back to our room to start packing while I went over to Swati's for a goodbye and "See you next year!" When I got back to the room around 10pm, Isabelle was almost done packing, but I had yet to start. Almost midnight by the time I was done, with the alarm going off at 4am for the start of our journey towards Delhi.

Didn't get much sleep between 12-4, kept slipping in and out of dreamland, making for a groggy rise at 4am. Our hired man with a push-cart arrived promptly at 4:40 to help us get all our luggage from the hotel to the bridge and across (a beautifully dark, peaceful and quiet walk), to where our cab was waiting (also punctually at 5am) to take us to the Haridwar train station 40min away. Got a "chai-shot" from our train station platform, a few snacks for the ride, and boarded at 6:50 for the 5 hour journey to Delhi. Quick tuk-tuk ride from the Delhi station to RAK Hotel on Main Bazaar in Paharganj, the backpacker district and guesthouse where I always stay in Delhi. After a wonderfully refreshing shower, we headed out for a little shopping along Main Bazaar, then returned to our guesthouse for a lukewarm Kingfisher beer on the rooftop. Never made it out for dinner that night - both pretty exhausted, and since we now had a tv in our room, we opted for leftover train cookies and sitcoms. And relished the relaxing break.

The bustling streets of Delhi get real loud real early, so we were up just after 6 on Friday morning. Went to the organic Brown Bread Bakery for breakfast, then hopped on the modern, clean, air-conditioned metro to Dilli Haat, a wonderful outdoor market with delicious food stalls and beautiful handmade local art, jewelry, clothing, etc. There is a small fee to get in, and the gated entrance means a very calm and pleasant shopping atmosphere. This was in stark contrast to our afternoon market, Chandni Chowk, a maze of grimy alleys packed with street food and vendors of all sorts. At the first market, there were only tourists, but at this one we were the only tourists. Metro back to Main Bazaar (we rode in the 'ladies only' car, as the general public ones were insanely packed and even a bit rough). It was raining as we walked from the metro station towards our hotel so we stopped into a nice looking statuette-singingbowl-jewelry store, coming out an hour later with several less dollars in our bank accounts, and a possible major shift in Isabelle's jewelry business... Dropped bags off in our room before heading out for our last dinner together at Club India, a fabulous rooftop restaurant overlooking the sights and sounds of Delhi nightlife. Some final last-minute shopping on the way back to our hotel, then showers and packing. I worked my OCD magic to make everything fit, but it took time. A lot of time. It was almost 3am when I turned the light out (Isabelle had already been asleep for a couple hours), and the alarm was ringing at 5 for our flights.

Taxi was waiting at 5:30 Saturday morning, taking us to the airport about 30min away. Isabelle was dropped off first at the domestic terminal for her flight to Mumbai where she would spend the next couple days on her own before flying home. We said our goodbyes (but see you soon!) after a wonderful time spent together, then I was dropped at the international terminal for my flight to Qatar. Difficulty getting through the entrance gates due to not having printed out my boarding pass, and several long check-in and security line-ups meant I wouldn't have time to browse around in my favorite Delhi airport shop. Always one of my favorite last pit-stops, so I was a little bummed (but my wallet was pleased). Just enough time to pick up my annual Indian Vogue and speed walk to my gate in time for the last boarding call. No upgrade to 1st class this time, but I did get an emergency exit row seat and lovely neighbours. Slept most of the 3hr flight, after hardly any shut-eye the night before. As per tradition, my first stop at the Doha airport was for an $8 coffee while flipping through my Vogue India - then figuring out how I'd spend the next 21 hours... Started by acquainting myself with new airport, totally renovated and redesigned since my last visit, and awarded the distinction of best airport in the Middle East. I guess there could be worse places to be stuck with a 21hr layover. Plopped my heavy carry-on backpack (full of books, of course) into a trolley and strolled around the squeaky clean, shimmering concourses - realizing with delight how lovely it was not to have to stare at the ground as I walked in order to avoid stepping in dirty puddles or cow dung. Using the airport bathrooms that come fully equipped with toilet paper and have dry floors is always another very enjoyable experience. After some exploring, reading, webbing, and trip budget calculating, it was already time for dinner. Around 8pm, after a delicious and reasonably priced meal salad, I headed to the quiet room (except for the two Indian ladies having a loud and animated conversation, not quite understanding the concept of this space), a closed-off area with long chairs to sleep on. Read a bit, pulled a very fitting tarot card, then put on my eye-mask, earplugs and blanket, and slept on-and-off from 9pm-1am. Got up, went to the bathroom, walked around, read a little more, then made my way back to the sleep lounge, this time stretching out on the carpeted floor with my blanket and neck-wrap pillow (a purchase I had made at the airport that afternoon, now wondering how I have traveled so far and so often and never owned one of these delightful pieces of comfort!). Semi-slept from 2-5am before getting up for good.

At 6 Sunday morning I went for a Jamocha coffee with my magazine. Checked in with Isabelle in Mumbai - she was managing like a pro on her own, and had already been to two of my favorite spots: Leopold's Café (from Shantaram) and Theobroma (an exquisite patisserie, whose name means food of the gods). Took off at 9am for the 13hr flight home. Again, no upgrade, but again, spacious exit row seat and a neighbour so lovely I wouldn't even have taken the upgrade if it were offered. She was a sweet and sociable (without being excessively chatty) teenage Pakistani girl on her way home to Saskatoon after visiting family in Pakistan. Watched The Big Short (great movie) with breakfast, then napped; then movie #2, Aloha (a cute one), with chips and ice-cream, then napped again; then movie #3, Everest (epic adventure) with lunch and a last nap. Then the custom cards came around and it was almost landing time. The sun was shining and the weather was mild as I stepped outside the airport - and I was happy to be home.

So, recap of this year's top 3 highlights: meeting Arna, Swati's beautiful baby girl; becoming certified in Panchkarma treatments, after an enriching and rejuvenating 3 week course; and having a stellar travel companion to end my trip with, who took to India with ease and grace, open to all the magic it offers, and who is already planning her next visit. Speaking of which... my plan for India Part 5 is to take a small group with me (organizing and guiding the trip), so if anyone wants to join the adventure, hit me up! I have already looked at potential dates: departure on Sunday, Feb. 26th, 2017, group returning two weeks later on Sunday, March 12th, and I would stay an extra 2 weeks, returning on March 26th. Inspired and excited for this new twist on my India trips, and who knows, maybe you'll be with me next year! Namaste and happy sunny spring equinox and St-Patty's Day :) 

Week 5

Busy as a bee with Isabelle now here! Backtrack to last Monday, before her arrival...

Yoga with Ashish the morning after my virechan (intestinal cleanse) was definitely more demanding than usual due to my low energy, but I made it through. Juice House after class for a Healthy Himalaya: banana, mango, spirulina, tulsi and tahini, topped with pomegranate, chikku and coconut flakes. Perfection. That afternoon I hopped on the scooter with Ashish #2 (owner of the Ayurveda clinic where I took my Panchkarma course) who was taking me into Rishikesh market to have my custom-made shirodhara pot ordered (for the treatment where a constant stream of oil runs down on the forehead). It was a balmy day, yet he drove into town wearing cowboy boots and a leather jacket - it was quite the sight. And he drove like a cowboy too! That night I went to a fancy (by Indian standards) Italian resto in the next town over with a few friends for Philo's last dinner (before heading south to the beaches and scorching heat of Goa the next day). So my day-after-cleanse dinner was pizza and Coke... not exactly what the doctor recommended, but surprisingly my stomach didn't seem too angry with me :)

Tuesday morning I went for a farewell cappuccino with Philo at the bakery, and it was so nice to be able to say, See you in Montreal! Our paths are sure to cross again... Then I walked over to Laxmanjula for satsang with Prem Baba, but it was cancelled that day so I gathered my courage and went next door to Shanti Mai. And soon remembered why I don't go to her. I had been a couple times on my first trip in 2012, but never returned until now. She has this strange habit of picking on people in the audience in a rather harsh manner, and I was afraid of being one of her victims. Luckily, it wasn't the case, but others weren't so fortunate. It's a very bizarre atmosphere in there, which may be what some people are looking for, but definitely not my cup of tea. Hurried out as soon as it was over (was tempted to leave before, but terrified she'd yell at me!). Much more peaceful feeling when I went to Children of the Ganges that evening on Swati's first night back to teaching after her 2-month maternity leave. The kids were precious as always, with a few familiar smiling faces from my last visit 2 years ago.

Wednesday was my last day and night at Swati's before moving to Narayana Kunj Hotel after Isabelle's arrival the next day (one friend leaves, another arrives!) Not much to say about Wednesday, just got things organized and took a nice afternoon nap (which is unusual for me, but had been happening every day since my final cleanse - energy needed some time to completely restore itself).

Thursday at 11am I got into a taxi (first car ride since I've been here) for the 1hour drive to Dehradun airport. I told Isabelle the taxi driver would be at the exit with her name on a poster (which was the original plan), but seeing as the cab was leaving from right near where I lived, I figured, why not hop in and be there to greet her? So that's what I did and she was very happy about the surprise :) Hadn't planned much for that afternoon, just walking around, showing her the area and few cool spots.

Friday the busy schedule started. First things first, delicious street chai to start the day. Then a tough yoga class with Ashish, which Isabelle took a couple days to recover from (as had been the case for me a month before, when I was more sore than after running a half marathon). Reward for our hard work was the famous gigantic bowl of muesli-fruit-curd-honey at The Office. Then it was off to the Beatles Ashram, one of the funkiest places in Rishikesh. No longer used for any purposes besides attracting visitors, the old ruins are spread out on a few acres of eerie foresty land. We ran into Pan Trinity Das, a Canadian "graffiti-with-a-message" artist who has done some amazing work in various halls and structures of the ashram. Really cool experience to meet him and watch him work. Here's a great piece on him by Yoga International - https://yogainternational.com/article/view/bhakti-street-artist-pan-trinity-das-and-the-political-message-of-love

Saturday we started our weekend with the beautiful words of Prem Baba and the heavenly sounds of his musicians and singers. Then it was over to Maa Yoga Ashram to say hi to my friend Amrit, the ayurvedic doctor I met on my last trip, after which we were supposed to meet Swati and the kids from Children of the Ganges at Mahatma Yoga Ashram, where they were spending the afternoon on a special outing and fun activities, but we never ended up finding the place...

Sunday started with another satsang, this time with Mooji, after which we met Swati in Rishikesh city for some market shopping, lassi drinking, and lunch at her mother's followed by watching the neighborhood kids play makeshift cricket on the rooftop (so much goes on on Indian roofs!). That evening we booked our readings with a nearby astrologer since I never ended up getting a hold Prateek. Interesting reading, but was disappointed not to be able to meet with my regular astro-man.

I'll end this entry with Sunday as usual, but it's now Wednesday night 11pm, and we just finished packing for our train to Delhi tomorrow. Gotta hit the sack, the alarm is set for 4am! Next blog will be from Delhi, or maybe from home, where I'll be in just a few days - and which, as always, makes me sad and happy at once... Night, night. Namaste. 

Week 4

One month has come and gone, only two weeks left!

Monday morning during class with Ashish: We were in trikonasana (triangle pose), and I thought mine was pretty darn good, but he walks over and says, "Look her." Myself, and others, are used repeatedly during these workshop style classes to examine the postures and the precise functioning of the body. So he asks for 3 assistants, gets two straps and a metal pole, and says, "Ok, now we gonna break her." Oh boy. Haha, it wasn't as painful as it sounds! At PK class that afternoon I learned the dry body scrub, which I would then receive on Sunday, my final day of class. Highlight of my day was the evening, when I got to Skype with Theo, my 6-month-old nephew, who showed me his two new front teeth :) And then, as it was the full moon, I went up to the roof for a few rounds of Chandra Namaskar (moon salutation sequence) and a full moon meditation.

Back to the roof on Tuesday, but this time for reading my Surya Namaskar (sun salution) book while soaking up nourishing noontime rays. At PK class it was Basti day (enema colon cleanse). I helped prepare the medicated oil solution which would then be inserted and expelled. I will spare you the details, but it's a relatively easy and gentle procedure. Followed the treatment with a nice kitchri at Soul Kitchen (gotta love the resto names around here!). That night, while hanging out in Swati's room, I was holding Arna - who only wears a cotton cloth nappy, not a diaper, so when she decided it was pee time, I got it all over me. A while later, I watch as Swati removes the nappy, pulls a bucket close, holds Arna over it, makes a 'sssssss' sound, and Arna pees into the bucket! Whaaat?? You can control her pee? I ask. Swati grins and says, "It's called mother-daughter connection." I am still a little perplexed by the event.

Not much to report for Wednesday. At PK class I learned about specific Marma points, used for a deeper - and sometimes a little painful - massage.

Thursday I stopped into the Juice House for the "I love India" blend: pomegranate, mango, papaya, beetroot and pineapple topped with little pieces of chikku fruit. Scrumptious. At PK class I learned how to prepare the medicated oils they use for massage, cooking fresh herbs into sesame oil. One of my teachers took me for a little walk to show me where these herbs grew wild nearby.

Friday, I finally found a room for Isabelle (a friend who is arriving this Thursday) and I to share. No small feat at this time of year in Rishikesh, with the annual International Yoga Festival from March 1-7, attracting plenty of foreigners, and the week-long celebration of Shivaratri, culminating on March 8th, attracting masses of Indian tourists. At PK class, I learned one of my favorite treatments, the heated rice packs. We cook up some rice and milk and herbs - and a few other things I can't remember right now - until it becomes a porridge-like mush, then scoop the mixture onto a small cotton cloth, close it up, twist it up, forming a nice little pack, then use it (still hot and regularly submerged in warm milk during the treatment) to rub in circular motions all over the skin. Feels fantastic and is wonderful for deeply moisturizing dry skin (without all the chemicals in our regular creams). At the end of class, I had to down a cup of my prep drink for Sunday's big finale, virechan - the intestinal cleanse. The drink, a blend of water, milk, ghee, sugar and trikatu (a 3-pepper mix) is to prepare my insides for the cleanse. Wasn't so bad, but very oily from the ghee.

Saturday morning I headed to my second satsang with Mooji, which I'll return to one more time with Isabelle. Caught a rickshaw over, but took the nice long walk back along the Ganga. At PK class I learned vamana (a vomiting cleanse technique) but did not do it, as it is only prescribed when very necessary due to its intensity and possible complications. Gulped down my second, larger prep drink for Sunday as I watched a mouse scurry across the floor. My teacher looked over at me, grinning, "Are you scared?" Haha, no, just amused. I also see the occasional mouse while eating breakfast at the muesli spot. When in India...

Sunday was set aside for virechan, my final PK class and treatment. I went early at 9am for a full body scrub (a massage technique I learned earlier in the week). Can't say I particularly enjoyed this one. It was kinda painful - felt like having wet rocky sand vigorously rubbed on your skin. Great for exfoliation though! Then I drank the virechan mix, similar to the prep drinks, but this time with added herbal medication crushed into it. After successfully swallowing my last drop, I received my certificate, took a few photos with teaching team, and headed back to my room where I would spend the next few hours... evacuating. Well, it worked. Details upon request when I get home! I wasn't supposed to do much physical activity that day, but still took a gentle walk to Laxmanjula (next town over) to meet a friend and try to get an appointment with Prateek, the astrologer. We've been trying to catch him for a few days, but his brother (Puneet, the palm reader next door) tells us he is sick and doesn't know when he will be in. Stop into Soul Kitchen for a bowl of spinach soup (I had to fast until then for the virechan - allowed liquid food a few hours after the treatment). The walk back to my end of town was pretty exhausting (hence the prescribed non-activity) and I barely made it up the stairs to my room before crashing on my bed and immediately falling asleep. Took a nice rejuvenating late afternoon nap, then met up with my friend Philo(mene) - a great fellow Montrealer I met a couple weeks before - at the Ayurvedic Cafe for a nourishing bowl of delicious spinach-pumpkin kitchri, the only other food I was allowed to eat that day.

That wraps up week 4, hello March! Weather continues to warm up very fast, bringing with it the nighttime mosquitoes. Isabelle was hoping for heat when she got here, a little skeptical about it with my early weather descriptions, but the forecast for her arrival on March 3rd: daytime high reaching 30 degrees and nighttime low in the comfortable mid-teens. I think she will be pleased! All about our adventures together in next week's blog.

Love from the land of monkeys, babas, honking, chai, and - of course - magic.        

   

Week 3

After a week of learning ayurvedic massage techniques, things just got all kinds of weird in my Panchakarma class. More on that throughout the blog.

After a cold night last Sunday, I treated myself to a breakfast cappuccino (instead of my typical chai) and a cinnamon roll at the local bakery on Monday morning. Back at Swati's, there was a big celebration for the two new babies. I hadn't seen Manisha for a while as it is custom for new mothers to stay in the bedroom with their baby for 11 days after the birth, coming out only to use the bathroom. After the 11 days, it's time to celebrate. Extended family from both sides came in from near and far, showering the babies and parents with gifts. There was singing, drumming, dancing, and a big buffet of delicious food. After having lunch with them it was time to start week 2 of PK class, where I learned and practiced the shirodhara (stream of oil on the forehead) that I had received the day before (along with a full body massage). Back in my room after class, I was sitting on my bed going through my notes when a monkey's arm reaches into my room through the open window. I jump off the bed, the monkey pulls back, and I close the window. Gotta remember to keep doors and windows closed here! (I do have a screened window that I can use for fresh air.)

At Tuesday's PK class, Nasya was on the menu. This is the treatment I had done elsewhere at the end of my first week to help clear my sinuses. But this one wasn't just nose drops - I got oil poured into my ears as well. It just dribbles into my brain and stays there. A whole tablespoon or so of it. So bizarre. I followed my class with a delicious vegan cashew cheesecake from the bakery and some balcony reading. As I walked to dinner, the air was thick with stinky black smoke. Must be garbage burning night. There is so much trash in India that if it were just collected and piled up, it would cover the whole country. So it is burned (also due to lack of services). I ate dinner at Moondance by candlelight as there was a power outage - common occurance - and the boy who served me was Suraj, a student from Children of the Ganges. They are growing up fast!

My dreams were particularly vivid and easy to remember after my nose (gateway to the mind and consciousness) and ears got all oiled up. Wednesday afternoon, I couldn't resist heading back up to the roof for sun reading. But this time I closed the door. (On Swati's side they always leave their's open, so I must have just got really unlucky.) At PK class it was Basti day. First, we made dough with flour and water, and rolled it into a doughnut shape to place a mound over the recipient's chosen area (most commonly lower back, upper back, belly or chest), which we seal onto the body and pour warm oil into. Very soothing and ache-relieving. Had it done on my low back after learning and practicing the technique and felt immediate relief.

Thursday is when it really got weird. It was Netra time. So, we start by making a dough like yesterday, but make a much smaller doughnut to fit around the eyes. Seal it around the eyes, pour warm ghee (clarified butter) over closed eyelids, and then you open your eyes! Yep, right into the warm butter. I was a little weary as I practiced it, knowing my turn was next. While it was less unpleasant than I expected, I can't say it's among my favorites so far. Eyes felt uncomfortable and teary for two hours after (normal), but then the clarity of vision and brightness of the eyes is remarkable. And of course there are hosts of other benefits like migraine relief, improved concentration and memory, allergy relief... (Really not going into much depth here for each treatment in order to keep the blogs a reasonable length and not to bore you, but if some of you are curious just google the treatment names along with panchkarma and you'll find plenty of info and images. Oh, and I'm going to need some brave volunteers to practice on when I get back!)

After the first warm night (changed from wool to cotton shirt, and needed only sleeping bag, no wool blanket covering it), I headed to Satsang with Mooji (Jamaican "guru" I've been to before) Friday morning. Prem Baba is off on a 2-week silent retreat, and the day after he left, Mooji arrived. (I prefer PB, so I'll switch back when he returns from the retreat.) My PK class was cancelled that day, so I had a relaxed afternoon, laundry and rooftop reading. That night, the wind (which is always quite intense at night) was beyond intense. Loose doors were clanging, windows were rattling, things were breaking, and the howling sound was enough to require earplugs. It lasted for hours - didn't get much sleep.

Saturday it poured. Lots of reading in my room instead of on the roof. PK class was Pinda Swedana - hot herbal packs for muscle and joint pain relief. We prepared the fresh herbs, washing, cutting, cooking them with oil, lemon and salt, and making tight packs with cotton cloths. (Long process, I would receive the treatment the next day.) On my way to internet after class, I stopped at the best juice stall in town for a papaya, oats and honey smoothie topped with pomegranate seeds and coconut flakes. Delish. After web, another candlelight dinner served by Suraj at Moondance as it rained and thundered outside (hence the power outage).

Today, Sunday, the sun was shining again and I started my day with some Bhagavad Gita reading by the Ganga. Then I hopped on the scooter with Amit, Swati and Arna (her two month old baby that she just cradled in her arms for the ride) and we headed into Rishikesh city for a delicious lunch at Sawti's mom's followed by a little shopping at the market. Then back for PK class where I received the fantastic warm oiled herb pack treatment (tapping the hot packs all over the body, combined with full body massage and followed by a steam bath). I'm gonna turn into wobbly putty soon! The perks of learning all these crazy techniques: getting regular treatments to understand and experience what I'm learning! I know what's coming up for this third and final week of class, and it just gets weirder. Today's juice on my way to web: mango-mint-orange topped with pomegranate seeds and mint leaves. Lots of ideas for the bistro part of our upcoming center back home! (Of course, still doing daily yoga, except for Sunday, and the intensity of the classes makes the PK treatments all the more yummy.)

Namaste from the Motherland.   

Week 2

A lot more action this week!

Typical day starts with an uber-sweet chai from the street wallah (same friendly man I've been going to since 2012). Then it's either morning yoga or Prem Baba, followed by my afternoon ayurveda class (a 21-day course to learn the panchkarma techniques, 5 purification treatments for health and rejuvenation), then, if I went to Prem Baba in the morning, I take an evening yoga class and if I did morning yoga, I spend time reading from the fascinating books I've begun to accumulate (only 4 so far, I'm controlling myself!). Then a quiet dinner followed by more reading in bed.

When I got in last Sunday night, Arnav (Swati's 8-year-old son) was playing a makeshift game of solo cricket in the hallway in front of my room. Looked like he could use a teammate, so I played the part of the baller. Then we heard drumming and singing coming from downstairs, where a dozen Indian women (friends and neighbors of the Swati household) were seated huddled on the floor, drumming, singing and clapping enthusiastically. I take a seat and join in, and Swati tells me it's a little ceremony for the two new babies in the home.

On Monday Prem Baba had us all laughing hysterically with his impressions of ego-driven behavior and resulting emotional fluctuations. In the evening I finally took my first yoga class - Anup (Swati's brother-in -law) invited me into one of his teacher-training classes.

Tuesday, I took a morning yoga class with Ashish, a tough but fun Iyengar teacher I discovered last time I was here. I remember being used as a demonstration of what-to-fix in certain poses last time, but this year during my first class with him, I was used to show the right way to do a pose. Twice. (Cindy, you've been training me well!) That afternoon, I did my first load of bucket laundry, which I've become quite good at, but am always a bit horrified at how quickly the water turns dark grayish-brown as I soak clothes that have been worn in Indian air for a few days.

When I walked down the stairs from my room on Wednesday morning, I nearly tumbled down because of intensely aching thighs. Guess I did work really hard in Ashish' class yesterday to merit the recognition of strong and well-aligned postures. My legs were actually more sore that day (and for the next 3) than following my half-marathon runs.

Thursday I tried an ashtanga class, which I can't say is a style I particularly enjoy, but it led me to meet a great girl from Montreal. That night there was beautiful crescent moon gracing the dark sky, and not so pleasant loud wedding music gracing my ears. Though my window wasn't directly next to the ceremony as has been the case in the past, it sure sounded like it was.

Friday I met Caroline, a fellow Trika-yoga lover, who was just as bummed as I am about the hall being closed while we're here. It was a life-changer when I took the 1-month intensive in 2012, and I've been going back for classes every year since. They've always had issues with the cops, needing to pay bribes to stay open, since - among other reasons - there are no Indian teachers on staff and the popularity of the school takes attention away from local teachers. Sign says they will re-open in April, but I leave mid-March. Ah well, hopefully next year.

Saturday it rained and rained and rained. The grey clouds must have brought me bad luck, because in the span of 2 hours, I dropped a book directly on my foot injury (still a bit of a funny color, but was quite nicely on the mend), and then during class with Ashish we were using chairs as props and as I was moving mine it slipped out of my hands and landed on the exact same area of my foot. Pain shot up my leg, and of course I began to wonder, what's the meaning of this? What the heck did my right foot do to the universe to deserve this?? Still haven't found the answer...

Today, Sunday, the sun was shining again. As has been tradition at Prem Baba on Valentine's day for the past 3 years, there is a celebration of the 1 Billion Rising movement bringing awareness to violence against women. As much a we laughed on Monday, as much we cried today, as candles were lit, songs were sung and dances were danced.

My panchkarma course is 6 days a week, Sunday being reserved for receiving the treatments I learned during the week. This week was all about massage, so I got a full body massage - head, shoulders, body, face, steambath and shirodhara. It was my first, but certainly not my last, shirodhara. It was sublime. It's a calming oil treatment where a constant stream of warm oil is poured on the forehead and side-to-side along the hair line, dripping down the back of the head. For half an hour. I could have stayed there for days. It truly was one of the best things I've ever experienced.

Back at my room, I went up to the roof for some reading in the sun. After a few pages, I looked up to see a monkey climbing over the railing. Then another. And another. Until there were 5. Mild panic sets in as I contemplate my options. But very soon it wasn't me I was concerned about. I watch as one of the monkeys walks over to the staircase door I left open and makes his way in, soon followed by the four others. I thought about the two babies downstairs and was terrified of being responsible for anything happening to them. I made noises and gestures trying to lure the monkeys back out to the rooftop, but they just sat there, at the top of the stairs, on the rail or windowsill, seemingly very content and amused at being inside. I continued my gestures, praying the monkeys would not head down the stairs. And it worked. One of them finally followed my motion, coming back out to the roof, climbing back over the railing and into a tree. One by one, the others followed. With an elevated heart rate, I rushed in and shut the door behind me. I think my rooftop readings may be over. Guess I'll have to make do with my caged-in balcony. (Luckily, they were the more mild-tempered big grey monkeys, and not the vicious little brown ones, otherwise the experience may have completely nulled the benefits of my massage and heavenly shirodhara.)

I know Montreal is going through a pretty nasty cold spell, and you probably don't want to hear about my Indian chills, but sleeping still requires tuque, scarf and mitts, a sleeping bag and wool blanket. A non-heated room with 3 degrees outside is much colder than your -30 with heating! But when the sun is out, the days here are gloriously warm.

Those are the main anecdotes of the week, stay tuned for the adventures of week 3!          

Week 1

A quieter start than usual for me my first few days here with a recovering foot and nasty cold. Back to the land where your snots are black. My sinuses apparently were not pleased with the air quality this year. But let's backtrack to my arrival at Swati's after limping across the bridge and trekking up the hill. She was there to greet me at the entrance of her home, showed me to my room (one of the two new guestrooms they added to their home since my last visit) and then it was time to meet Arna, a beautiful baby girl she gave birth to on December 21st. Caught up with Swati over chai and snacks, and soon smiling Arnav ran in from school. He is thrilled about being a big brother after an 8-year wait. Went up to my room to unpack, lay down to rest a bit, waking up several hours later, in the middle night, to the sound of barking streetdogs. And so the jetlag nights begin. Around 4am I was awake again, this time with the background sound of chanting from the nearby ashram.

Awake again at 6, as the sky starts getting light. My room has great big windows on two sides, and from one I can see the sunrise over the mountains, from the the other the sunset over town. And from the roof above my room, I can have it all. First destination was the chai street stall, then Prem Baba for satsang, where as always there were many familiar faces. Beautiful music, beautiful talk. Back in my room, I lay down for an afternoon nap, and again didn't wake until hours later.

Next morning I woke up congested, and would barely be able to breathe for the next few days. Took it easy, walked around town checking out the posters, looking for inspiration on how to spend the next few weeks. Wrote some postcards, read from my Bhagavad Gita (which I think I will finally get to the end of this year), and ate some yummy Indian food.

On Friday, Manisha's water broke. She is the wife of Anup (Swati's brother-in-law) who moved into the family home a year ago after they got married. By the next day, mom and baby were home from the hospital with a healthy baby boy. Grandma is excited about the growing family and all the action. As for me, with my hurting foot, congestion and constantly runny nose (having required a full roll of toilet paper and 6 packs of kleenex so far) I still wasn't up for much besides strolling, reading, and Prem Baba. (Four days in, and still no yoga!)

Sunday was a rainy day, which means the streets turn into puddles of animal urine and cow dung. Always quite the sight and smell. And walking must be done with full awareness. Managed to keep my feet clean so far, getting the hang of it. Started my day with a chai by the ganga and ended it by treating myself to nasya therapy, an ayurvedic treatment to help clear sinus congestion. Starts off with a face massage, then herbal facial steam, and ends with medicated oil being dropped into the nostrils. Don't think I've ever breathed so clearly my entire life (but it was only temporary relief). I was at the center where Swati's brother, Ankit, works, and being friends with the guy at the front desk comes with its perks: he needed a head massage model for a woman taking a massage course and asked me if I was available. Um, yes! So the teacher demonstrated the oil head massage on me, then the student practiced, then the teacher showed again so the student could record, and finally the student practiced without notes. That's right, after my nasya treatment I got 4 consecutive free head massages. Whether it was due to that or from pulling my blinds closed completely for the first time, I slept through the night like a baby. Jetlag done, sinuses partly relieved, foot healing slowly but surely, I was ready to take on a big week starting Monday morning. All about my 2016 Rishikesh routine in next week's blog. To close as Prem Baba closes each satsang, Blessed be each one of you, until we meet again. Namaste. 

Montreal - Rishikesh

You'd think I'd have it figured out by now, but even after practicing 3 times, I still left in a bit of a frenzy, throwing the final items into my bags as I rushed out the door at the last minute. But as always, I made it to the airport on time, ready for my fourth Indian adventure. Here are a few highlights - and lowlights - of my journey.

Flight from Montreal-Doha: I notice as I walk up the aisle to my seat that someone is in it. I put my backpack in the overhead compartment and look at the man, waiting for him to scoot over to the middle seat (I always book the aisle for the long stretch). He looks up, "Is this your seat?" Well it ain't yours is it?? He reluctantly moves over and when I take my seat beside him, I notice a strong smell of alcohol. After a few minutes, he strikes up a conversation, reminding me that these seats are our home for the next 12hrs, and to remain calm during the flight as everything will be fine. Um, yes, thanks, I'm calm. But soon calm and annoyed... things he did during the next 12 hrs: decided that getting up to go to the bathroom right after the pilot asked everyone, including flight attendants, to remain seated and buckled in preparation for take-off; went to the bathroom 6 more times during the flight, clumsily tripping over me and bumping my head every time, while yanking the seat in front for dear life, giving the poor lady a scare each time as she thought her seat was being ripped out from under her; got down on all fours in the very small space between our seats and the ones in front of us, looking for his lost shoes; talked to himself for several minutes at a time; picked his nose for several minutes at a time; elbowed me multiple times while he slept, preventing me from also doing so; and when the flight finally came to an end, and the seatbelt signs went off, he immediately shot up and tried making his way into the already packed aisle, but could get no further than the very small space where my legs were. And he stayed there. Still sitting, knowing the line-up wouldn't budge for another 10 minutes, I looked up at him and said, "Are you kidding??" while pushing him back to the space in front of his own seat.

But life always balances out, doesn't it? After strolling around the Doha airport for a couple hours, I was sitting at my gate writing in my journal (about booze-breath, who when asked by the stewardess what he'd like to drink with his meal, said, "I need a beer." Yes, you sure do mister) when my name was called on the intercom, asking that I report the desk. Well that's a first. What now? The man asks for my ticket, rips it, and gives me a new one. "Has there been a change?" I ask. "Yes ma'am. Upgrade to business class," and with a little smirk, "If that's ok with you?" It most certainly is! So I figure business class - we're not talking first class here - will mean a little more footroom and slightly better food. But it turns out that on this particular flight, business and first are one and the same. I was giggling as my semi-private attendant led me directly to my seat and I looked around. Actually, scratch seat, it was a full-on private booth with a large flatscreen tv, a sofa that turned into a bed, along with bedside shelves and a pillow more comfy than any I've ever owned. (I seriously considered taking it with me when I got off.) There were so many courses to the drinks and meal that I just ate and drank the whole flight while watching a movie. When the flight ended (much too quickly - it was less than 3 hours) I realized that due to my constant dining, I hadn't even made use of my bed. So while everyone was gathering their things and lining up to exit, I started playing with the seat buttons, moving into full recline mode, and lay there until business class was empty and I had no choice but to leave. I wasn't going to waste a minute of it!

So, about that balance. It seems my 3 fancy hours were worth more on the universal balance scale than my 12 frustrating ones, because things were about to tip the other way again. I'll get to that in a moment. After landing in Delhi at 3am, waited 2 hours at the airport for the metro to start running at 5. Walked across the street to the metro, took it to the train station, and boarded at 6:45 for the 5hr ride to Haridwar. From there walked 20min to the bus station, finding the bus to Rishikesh, and hopped on for the hour-long ride. In Rishikesh, myself and two other ladies from the bus who were going to the same area as me negotiated a tuk-tuk price with one of the 8 drivers who swarmed us as we stepped off the bus, all hoping for our business. The one we picked was so enthused about being the chosen one and just couldn't wait to get going, which he did when the two others, but not me or my bags, had made it onboard yet. The wheels started turning as I was hoisting my pack up onto the seat, rolling right over my foot. When the driver heard the yells, not being able to see what was happening from where he was sitting, his reaction was to back up before I could remove my foot, rolling onto it again, and when the yells continued, he figured he better stop moving, leaving the wheel and the weight of his vehicle (plus three people plus luggage) on my foot. I was frantically yanking at the bars, trying to pull the tuk-tuk off my foot, and the two ladies were yelling at the driver to move, which he finally did. My eyes started welling up as I shook my leg and a crowd gathered. The poor driver looked so distraught about what he had done, offering to take me to the hospital and pay for the doctor. The ladies kept yelling at him, but of course I felt bad for the man who had just crushed my foot. I told him I didn't need a doctor, since I could tell nothing was broken. I could bend my foot and wiggle my toes and was anxious to arrive and settle in and rest. So off we went, but on the way, he stopped at a roadside clinic, getting me some pain gel and a bandage, which he applied and wrapped around my foot. The ladies are still yelling at him, insisting we get a free ride for what he has done, but I smile at him through my tears, feeling bad that he feels bad. I think the ladies were a bit annoyed at my lack of anger towards him. When we got dropped off  at the Ramjula bridge, I felt guilty about not paying him, but there's no way the ladies would have let me. They helped me carry my bags to ease the weight, as we still had a 20min walk to our destination. While my foot was sore and sensitive, I was amazed and relieved that I could walk almost normally. I kept thinking how much worse it could have been with just a slight difference in my foot position when it was rolled over - a broken bone, crutches, no walking, no yoga. That would have thrown me for quite the loop. It would have had to be a very creative stay in Rishikesh. So despite the incident and scare, I am confident that my Indian guardian angel continues to watch over me as always. And balance has been restored once again.