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.