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!