As I was coming out of Urdhva Dhanurasana (also known as Wheel, a backbending posture) the other day, I rolled up to take Paschimottanasana (seated forward bend) and felt a strange discomfort in my lower back. Saraswathi noticed my expression and asked what was up. I told her my back was uncomfortable and she said I should take Paschimottanasana and that she'd help.
So, I leaned forward and wrapped my hands around my feet as she gently pressed on my back to bring me further into the posture. I felt better afterwards and chalked it up to a little random muscle pain.
When I woke up the next day, my back and hips were extremely stiff and I had a nagging pain in my lower back. That was the day of our first led class.
In practice I took much longer to get warmed up than usual and could feel that something was wrong the whole time... In a led class, you proceed as far in the series as you can (I couldn't get past Marichyasana D that day) and then you wait for those who can proceed to finish, to join back in for backbending and the finishing postures. As I came out of Urdhva Dhanurasana once more, there was that pain again. It nagged me through the finishing postures so much that I could barely put my feet on the floor in Halasana (Plow), which has become relatively easy for me lately. I finished practice feeling very much "off" and was beginning to become concerned.
I took the rest of the day very easy and pretty much just lied around hoping to feel better. When I woke the next morning though, the pain had become more than just nagging. I couldn't take Balasana (Childs Pose) without experiencing pain. Lying down was uncomfortable; sitting up, worse. The only thing I could do that didn't give me pain was some gentle reclining twists that I had read about from Yoga Journal online. As the pain did not go away, I became more and more concerned. "Is this going to be the end of my trip?" Was all I kept thinking.
Trying not to panic, I e-mailed one of my teachers from the Yoga Sanctuary, who I knew had a background in Yoga Therapy. She gave me some helpful advice, but primarily suggested that I speak with Saraswathi, as she was my primary teacher for the moment. As I came to class the next day, I explained to Saraswathi what had happened; she smiled knowingly, and said "you take it slow for a couple of days, only do what you can, and no backbending until Saturday."
My practice that day was slow and sloppy. I was stopped after Purvottanasana (Reverse Plank), the counter-pose to Paschimottanasana, the two of which are the first two postures of the Primary series. As I warmed up I began to feel a little better, but not much. In finishing and going home, I found myself in much the same position as I was the day before. I was trying to stay positive, but seemed to be fighting a losing battle at that time. Not wanting to just give up, I continued to go to practice.
After about the third day, I began to feel some genuine relief. It's been two days since then and while I'm not exactly right back where I was, the pain is gone and I'm feeling much, much better.
The whole ordeal seems to have left my hips and hamstrings a little tighter than they were, but that's okay; I'm putting in daily work to open them up again and have learned some valuable lessons.
First, though it's said regularly in yoga, sometimes we need a little reminder; listen to your body! If you're feeling pain or discomfort, particularly in any of the sensitive areas like the lower back, knees, neck and so on, you should probably back off and take it easy until you are no longer experiencing that pain.
Second, it can be a good thing to slow down your practice. Ashtanga is a fast-paced system, where we attempt to co-ordinate breath and movement. It can be tempting to hurry some of the movements to keep up with our breath, especially once we've really warmed up. It is always important however to be mindful of the posture - to work at creating awareness of your body the whole way through, and to not sacrifice that awareness for anything.
One of the best things about Ashtanga is that it is a fixed series. We do the same poses in the same order every time - this allows us to have a clear sense of progression, as well as creating a meditative state through repetition. This repetition-induced meditation can also be dangerous however, as it can lull a less experienced practitioner into complacency; just going through the motions without first creating that all-important awareness.
Since this experience, I find myself slowing down, taking an extra breath here and there if I need it and making that little bit of extra effort to be sure that I am always listening to my body. It has allowed me to bring a new level of enjoyment to my practice.
-Aaron
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Adam - Week 1 - Food, Friends and Fun
One week into our trip and we've settled into our hotel and are becoming familiar with the area.
Just about everything we need (restaurants, pharmacy, fruit vendors, the shala, coconut vendors etc.) is within a 5 minute walk from Urban Oasis. The farthest we've had to travel is to Saraswathi's house, which is about 10 minutes away. There are some locations we've heard about that are slightly farther, but rickshaw drivers are all over and are very cheap.
Below: Drinking some fresh coconut water!
Our daily routine couldn't be easier. Every morning we wake up at 5am, get ourselves ready and make our way to the shala for 6. We practice as much of the primary series as we can (you are stopped and told to start the finishing series if you can't get into certain "gateway" poses). I (Adam) am stuck at Marichyasana B and Aaron is stuck at Supta Kurmasana. Each day we get just a little closer to acheiving the poses. After practice, we head to the coconut vendor to have some extremely refreshing coconut water, then return to our hotel to shower, change and have breakfast. From then on, the rest of the day is ours to do with as we please.
Usually that involves light stretches, eating, getting some more coconuts and chatting with some other student from around the world and walking around to explore the city. As our days come to an end, we watch TED talks, documentaries and movies etc back at the hotel.
Below: hanging out at the coconut stand
Everything here is relatively inexpensive. To lower our cost of living, we'll be leaving the hotel and moving to an apartment, which will cost around $300 for our first month, then we move to a nicer place for about $400 a month.
We made the mistake of accepting abd booking the first apartment we found. Shortly after we came across far nicer places to stay, for just a small amount extra per month. So, on the 20th we are moving to a decent apartment about the size of our hotel room for one month. After that we will move to a very nice apartment, with a kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom.
The food has been fantastic. So far we've been eating all vegetarian meals. Many if not most of the locals are vegetarian, and have been their whole lives. The vegetarian dishes more than satisfy, all for just a few dollars.
Below: one of the great vegetarian meals we've been indulging in. Aloo Gobi, Mushroom Masala, Naan and a pineapple lassi
Every morning we have our free breakfast on the roof, tasting various Indian dishes and fresh fruits like banana, watermelon and papaya. It's very quiet and calm, with an amazing view; a great way to start each day.
At the end of our first week our mind-set has completed changed. We're loving our trip and thrilled we made the decision to come.
Our practice is going great, we've already started to get stronger and make improvements. We're meeting interesting people from all over the world and happily soaking in the amazing weather and great food.
At the end of the week Saraswathi tells us "new time start monday, you come 4:30". So, starting on Monday (the 17th) we begin practice at 4:30.
We aren't sure what this means, but with fewer people there, we'll have more room to practice and I'm sure she'll be able to give us a little more attention.
The shala closes for a few months after April 6th, so after some discussing we've decided to cut our trip down from 5 months to 3. After all, with the money we save, we'll be able to come back again sooner! ;)
Just about everything we need (restaurants, pharmacy, fruit vendors, the shala, coconut vendors etc.) is within a 5 minute walk from Urban Oasis. The farthest we've had to travel is to Saraswathi's house, which is about 10 minutes away. There are some locations we've heard about that are slightly farther, but rickshaw drivers are all over and are very cheap.
Below: Drinking some fresh coconut water!
Our daily routine couldn't be easier. Every morning we wake up at 5am, get ourselves ready and make our way to the shala for 6. We practice as much of the primary series as we can (you are stopped and told to start the finishing series if you can't get into certain "gateway" poses). I (Adam) am stuck at Marichyasana B and Aaron is stuck at Supta Kurmasana. Each day we get just a little closer to acheiving the poses. After practice, we head to the coconut vendor to have some extremely refreshing coconut water, then return to our hotel to shower, change and have breakfast. From then on, the rest of the day is ours to do with as we please.
Usually that involves light stretches, eating, getting some more coconuts and chatting with some other student from around the world and walking around to explore the city. As our days come to an end, we watch TED talks, documentaries and movies etc back at the hotel.
Below: hanging out at the coconut stand
Everything here is relatively inexpensive. To lower our cost of living, we'll be leaving the hotel and moving to an apartment, which will cost around $300 for our first month, then we move to a nicer place for about $400 a month.
We made the mistake of accepting abd booking the first apartment we found. Shortly after we came across far nicer places to stay, for just a small amount extra per month. So, on the 20th we are moving to a decent apartment about the size of our hotel room for one month. After that we will move to a very nice apartment, with a kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathroom.
The food has been fantastic. So far we've been eating all vegetarian meals. Many if not most of the locals are vegetarian, and have been their whole lives. The vegetarian dishes more than satisfy, all for just a few dollars.
Below: one of the great vegetarian meals we've been indulging in. Aloo Gobi, Mushroom Masala, Naan and a pineapple lassi
Every morning we have our free breakfast on the roof, tasting various Indian dishes and fresh fruits like banana, watermelon and papaya. It's very quiet and calm, with an amazing view; a great way to start each day.
At the end of our first week our mind-set has completed changed. We're loving our trip and thrilled we made the decision to come.
Our practice is going great, we've already started to get stronger and make improvements. We're meeting interesting people from all over the world and happily soaking in the amazing weather and great food.
At the end of the week Saraswathi tells us "new time start monday, you come 4:30". So, starting on Monday (the 17th) we begin practice at 4:30.
We aren't sure what this means, but with fewer people there, we'll have more room to practice and I'm sure she'll be able to give us a little more attention.
The shala closes for a few months after April 6th, so after some discussing we've decided to cut our trip down from 5 months to 3. After all, with the money we save, we'll be able to come back again sooner! ;)
Friday, January 13, 2012
Aaron - Downs and Ups
To say the first week here has been a roller coaster ride is a bit of an understatement.
After our death-journey getting to our hotel, we were greeted by the hotel security guard who didn't know about reservations, didn't have the room we had booked ready and spoke only minimal English. Still, he did his best to accommodate us, and gave us a room with a single bed. He told us the manager would be in soon, and we should check back in a few hours.
Below: our bed for nearly our entire first month!
Exhaustion taking over, we made do with what we had, jumped in bed beside one another and attempted to sleep... finally!
Unfortunately, it was already approaching 6am and the traffic starts good and early here. We spent the next couple of hours desperately attempting to sleep amidst an endless barrage of loud, backfiring engines, honking horns, and street vendors announcing their wares. All the excitement of beginning the journey that we had felt as we boarded our first flight had disappeared, replaced by the reality of being in a foreign land, far away from family, friends and almost anything familiar or comforting.
An hour or two later, not having been able to sleep, we went downstairs and spoke with the manager. He helped to sort out the situation, and explained that they didn't have any rooms with 2 beds left. We decided we could deal with 1 bed for the moment and asked him to let us know when a room with 2 beds opened up.
With a step in the right direction, we're finally able to relax a little and sleep... Which we proceeded to do for the entire rest of the day (off and on for almost 19 hours!), finally rising again around 5am on Tuesday.
Needing to fill our empty bellies, we went out and had a wonderful, cheap (though apparently rather expensive for the area) meal at nearby restaurant called "Sai Guru" or "Veg Family Restaurant", and felt our spirits lift. Leaving the restaurant we decided to walk and discover our surroundings.
As we travelled we noticed the area we were in is actually rather wealthy; beautiful, large houses, hotels and businesses lined the streets; each one unique in its architecture and many sporting bright, beautiful colours.
Rested, hydrated and with a good meal in us, we were in much better moods, as we approached the coconut stand, we decided to stop to get some fresh coconut water and maybe meet some of the students with some experience in the area. While we were there we were approached by a friendly student of the institute, named Rolf. As we got ourselves acquainted, we told him we were here to study with Sharath.
He responded by saying "I was with Sharath for one day. In the middle of practice he came over and started shouting at me 'Beginner! Beginner! Get out! Go to Saraswathi!'."
This is how we found out that Sharath teaches only to advanced students.
Needless to say, the news was very disappointing. Still, Saraswathi has decades of experience practicing and teaching Ashtanga. So, we went to the shala to register.
We'd read on the Internet that the price of classes was about 200-300$ a month. When we reached the Shala and spoke with a manager, we were told the price (which is not listed on the KPJAYI website, and when asked for in email, was not responded to) for the first month was 27800 rupees, which comes out to about $540 Canadian.
Our hearts sank slightly... Not only could we not study with the teacher we had intended to, the price was nearly double what was expected. Feeling dejected, we returned to our hotel.
Upon registering we were told our practice begins at 6am the next day. With that in mind, we both decided to do a small practice/stretch in the hotel. Keep in mind, we had been in transit for about a full day and a half prior to this. Then, spent another half day sleeping... We were a little stiff.
It was a hot day, and we both found ourselves unable to catch our breath, and almost completely immobile. Yet another kick in the teeth. We finished our practice thinking "what are we doing here?". The build up of disappointment, pressure and anxiety had finally overwhelmed us. Calling it quits, we headed out for dinner.
After another great meal and another nights sleep, we arose slightly refreshed, ready for our first day of practice. Saraswathi teaches not out of the main shala, but out of her home, just like her father (Pattabhi Jois) had done, once upon a time.
As we arrive, we take our sandals off and step into the practice area. The room is dimly lit with a soft orange glow and has a subtle smell of a nice incense. Quiet except for the sound of deep, full, ujjayi breathing (breathing with sound), and Saraswathi quietly calling instructions to students learning the primary series for the first time. She makes her way around the room, giving adjustments and making sure everyone knows and follows the proper sequence.. As we stepped inside we felt the warmth of the room, heated by the mass of students, all practicing various poses of the Ashtanga primary series. We begin to weave our way through the mass of shoulder to shoulder students, searching for a spot to begin our own practice.
Finding our spots, we roll out our mats and stand for a moment, preparing for the practice. Something about the room is deeply relaxing. For a moment, we breathe, and relax. All of our negative thoughts, our doubts, our disappointments - are swept away as our inner voice leads us into the practice... "Inhale..... Exhale".
Each pose in the series prepares you for the next. A certain level of proficiency is required in each pose in order to proceed. If you cannot continue, Saraswathi will tell you "you take back bending now, tomorrow try again". She's a wonderful woman who projects a real sense of compassion and care in her teaching. We each received multiple adjustments in the class. After our practice was finished, she took some time to get to know us, asking where we were from and who we had studied under.
We returned to the hotel, where they serve a free breakfast on the roof every morning. Enjoying our first breakfast, fresh papaya, idlys (steamed rice cakes), sambar (spicy chili soup), and coconut chutney (Sooo good). The food is excellent. After breakfast we enjoy a few cups of chai and look out at a beautiful view from te rooftop. As we relax, relief washes our stress way.
Below: our first breakfast in Mysore!
A good sleep, great practice, tasty food, and a beautiful view... all is well.
I think we could get used to this.
Below: a portion f the view from he rooftop of our hotel.
After our death-journey getting to our hotel, we were greeted by the hotel security guard who didn't know about reservations, didn't have the room we had booked ready and spoke only minimal English. Still, he did his best to accommodate us, and gave us a room with a single bed. He told us the manager would be in soon, and we should check back in a few hours.
Below: our bed for nearly our entire first month!
Exhaustion taking over, we made do with what we had, jumped in bed beside one another and attempted to sleep... finally!
Unfortunately, it was already approaching 6am and the traffic starts good and early here. We spent the next couple of hours desperately attempting to sleep amidst an endless barrage of loud, backfiring engines, honking horns, and street vendors announcing their wares. All the excitement of beginning the journey that we had felt as we boarded our first flight had disappeared, replaced by the reality of being in a foreign land, far away from family, friends and almost anything familiar or comforting.
An hour or two later, not having been able to sleep, we went downstairs and spoke with the manager. He helped to sort out the situation, and explained that they didn't have any rooms with 2 beds left. We decided we could deal with 1 bed for the moment and asked him to let us know when a room with 2 beds opened up.
With a step in the right direction, we're finally able to relax a little and sleep... Which we proceeded to do for the entire rest of the day (off and on for almost 19 hours!), finally rising again around 5am on Tuesday.
Needing to fill our empty bellies, we went out and had a wonderful, cheap (though apparently rather expensive for the area) meal at nearby restaurant called "Sai Guru" or "Veg Family Restaurant", and felt our spirits lift. Leaving the restaurant we decided to walk and discover our surroundings.
As we travelled we noticed the area we were in is actually rather wealthy; beautiful, large houses, hotels and businesses lined the streets; each one unique in its architecture and many sporting bright, beautiful colours.
Rested, hydrated and with a good meal in us, we were in much better moods, as we approached the coconut stand, we decided to stop to get some fresh coconut water and maybe meet some of the students with some experience in the area. While we were there we were approached by a friendly student of the institute, named Rolf. As we got ourselves acquainted, we told him we were here to study with Sharath.
He responded by saying "I was with Sharath for one day. In the middle of practice he came over and started shouting at me 'Beginner! Beginner! Get out! Go to Saraswathi!'."
This is how we found out that Sharath teaches only to advanced students.
Needless to say, the news was very disappointing. Still, Saraswathi has decades of experience practicing and teaching Ashtanga. So, we went to the shala to register.
We'd read on the Internet that the price of classes was about 200-300$ a month. When we reached the Shala and spoke with a manager, we were told the price (which is not listed on the KPJAYI website, and when asked for in email, was not responded to) for the first month was 27800 rupees, which comes out to about $540 Canadian.
Our hearts sank slightly... Not only could we not study with the teacher we had intended to, the price was nearly double what was expected. Feeling dejected, we returned to our hotel.
Upon registering we were told our practice begins at 6am the next day. With that in mind, we both decided to do a small practice/stretch in the hotel. Keep in mind, we had been in transit for about a full day and a half prior to this. Then, spent another half day sleeping... We were a little stiff.
It was a hot day, and we both found ourselves unable to catch our breath, and almost completely immobile. Yet another kick in the teeth. We finished our practice thinking "what are we doing here?". The build up of disappointment, pressure and anxiety had finally overwhelmed us. Calling it quits, we headed out for dinner.
After another great meal and another nights sleep, we arose slightly refreshed, ready for our first day of practice. Saraswathi teaches not out of the main shala, but out of her home, just like her father (Pattabhi Jois) had done, once upon a time.
As we arrive, we take our sandals off and step into the practice area. The room is dimly lit with a soft orange glow and has a subtle smell of a nice incense. Quiet except for the sound of deep, full, ujjayi breathing (breathing with sound), and Saraswathi quietly calling instructions to students learning the primary series for the first time. She makes her way around the room, giving adjustments and making sure everyone knows and follows the proper sequence.. As we stepped inside we felt the warmth of the room, heated by the mass of students, all practicing various poses of the Ashtanga primary series. We begin to weave our way through the mass of shoulder to shoulder students, searching for a spot to begin our own practice.
Finding our spots, we roll out our mats and stand for a moment, preparing for the practice. Something about the room is deeply relaxing. For a moment, we breathe, and relax. All of our negative thoughts, our doubts, our disappointments - are swept away as our inner voice leads us into the practice... "Inhale..... Exhale".
Each pose in the series prepares you for the next. A certain level of proficiency is required in each pose in order to proceed. If you cannot continue, Saraswathi will tell you "you take back bending now, tomorrow try again". She's a wonderful woman who projects a real sense of compassion and care in her teaching. We each received multiple adjustments in the class. After our practice was finished, she took some time to get to know us, asking where we were from and who we had studied under.
We returned to the hotel, where they serve a free breakfast on the roof every morning. Enjoying our first breakfast, fresh papaya, idlys (steamed rice cakes), sambar (spicy chili soup), and coconut chutney (Sooo good). The food is excellent. After breakfast we enjoy a few cups of chai and look out at a beautiful view from te rooftop. As we relax, relief washes our stress way.
Below: our first breakfast in Mysore!
A good sleep, great practice, tasty food, and a beautiful view... all is well.
I think we could get used to this.
Below: a portion f the view from he rooftop of our hotel.
Adam - Death Ride - part 3
For a while I had noticed our driver's head had begun occasionally bobbing slightly. Paying more attention, I realize that he is fighting a losing battle trying to stay awake at the wheel. We approach a curve in the road, only our vehicle makes no sign of taking the turn. Looking at the driver I get ready to say something, when suddenly, just as we are about to drive off of the road, the vehicle jerks to the right and we round the bend.
A moment or two passes, I try to tide my growing anger, then suddenly "Do you live in Gokulam?" (the district of Mysore we were traveling to) Aaron asks him. "Ya, Gokulam" the driver says. "So... when you drop us off you're gonna get some sleep?... You seem pretty tired...".
Laughing and agreeing, the driver finally opens up a little (his english is better than he let on...) and tells us his story. He wasn't supposed to be the one to pick us up. The man scheduled for us wasn't able to come and even though our driver had driven all day and night the previous day, he was called to pick us up as they had no one else.
Realizing our driver was a decent guy who had just got the short end of the stick and was extremely tired, we were able to have some sympathy for the man who had taken us on this terrifying death ride.
Still, an hour left in our trip we continue our ride with a driver who, like us, hadn't slept in 2 days. The final hour is the worst of the journey.
Still on the highway, our driver bobs and weaves through traffic, now occasionally nodding off at the wheel. Several more times we almost drive off the road, every time the driver wakes at the very last moment and swerves back onto the highway. Through the window I see a sign indicating a speed mound is ahead. For a brief moment I wonder if our driver had seen it, or would be conscious enough to notice the mound as we approached... WHAM... Nope.
Luckily that mound was smaller than the rest and we didn't become airborne or loose control. Later, as we approach another collection of cars on the highway, barely conscious, the driver decides to ride the bumpers of, and pass several vehicles. The car next to us a foot or so away, he nods off again and slowly the gap between our vehicles closes... Once again, just inches before collision, he stirs and the gap grows.
Finally, we pass a sign welcoming us to Mysore. After a few minutes we're off the highway, moving through the city. The driver takes the time to point out a few key locations for us in the district and describes to us the path we take to get from our hotel to the Shala. A moment or so later, we reach our destination. We get out and are handed our bags. In the email confirming our ride, we were told the price for our 4 hour (death) ride would come to 2,200 rupees, or about $44 ($44?!? We could hardly believe it). We ask the driver and he confirms. Having finally chatted with him a little and feeling grateful that he came to pick us up (had he not we'd likely still be at the airport, or have had to pick some other random driver to take us to Mysore... Mind you, that may have been a better journey...) we give him a generous tip, all things considered, and make our way into our hotel.
A moment or two passes, I try to tide my growing anger, then suddenly "Do you live in Gokulam?" (the district of Mysore we were traveling to) Aaron asks him. "Ya, Gokulam" the driver says. "So... when you drop us off you're gonna get some sleep?... You seem pretty tired...".
Laughing and agreeing, the driver finally opens up a little (his english is better than he let on...) and tells us his story. He wasn't supposed to be the one to pick us up. The man scheduled for us wasn't able to come and even though our driver had driven all day and night the previous day, he was called to pick us up as they had no one else.
Realizing our driver was a decent guy who had just got the short end of the stick and was extremely tired, we were able to have some sympathy for the man who had taken us on this terrifying death ride.
Still, an hour left in our trip we continue our ride with a driver who, like us, hadn't slept in 2 days. The final hour is the worst of the journey.
Still on the highway, our driver bobs and weaves through traffic, now occasionally nodding off at the wheel. Several more times we almost drive off the road, every time the driver wakes at the very last moment and swerves back onto the highway. Through the window I see a sign indicating a speed mound is ahead. For a brief moment I wonder if our driver had seen it, or would be conscious enough to notice the mound as we approached... WHAM... Nope.
Luckily that mound was smaller than the rest and we didn't become airborne or loose control. Later, as we approach another collection of cars on the highway, barely conscious, the driver decides to ride the bumpers of, and pass several vehicles. The car next to us a foot or so away, he nods off again and slowly the gap between our vehicles closes... Once again, just inches before collision, he stirs and the gap grows.
Finally, we pass a sign welcoming us to Mysore. After a few minutes we're off the highway, moving through the city. The driver takes the time to point out a few key locations for us in the district and describes to us the path we take to get from our hotel to the Shala. A moment or so later, we reach our destination. We get out and are handed our bags. In the email confirming our ride, we were told the price for our 4 hour (death) ride would come to 2,200 rupees, or about $44 ($44?!? We could hardly believe it). We ask the driver and he confirms. Having finally chatted with him a little and feeling grateful that he came to pick us up (had he not we'd likely still be at the airport, or have had to pick some other random driver to take us to Mysore... Mind you, that may have been a better journey...) we give him a generous tip, all things considered, and make our way into our hotel.
Below: Urban Oasis, Gokulam
Adam - Death Ride - part 2
Eventually we get back onto a highway, this time without any painted lanes! Not that they made a difference.
Once again bobbing and weaving through traffic, honking and flashing his lights, our driver stares silently ahead occasionally rubbing his eyes or quickly shaking his head... He seems very tired. As we continue, the frequency of his eye rubs increases and all of a sudden, he pulls off the highway and parks on the side of the road, near some other trucks. My fear kicks in again... What is going on?
Below: a night-time shot of the main drag in Gokulam
He looks at us both and says "Ten minutes... I need ten minutes.". Confused we say "okay...?", and the driver looks forward, places his forehead on the steering wheel and appears to go to sleep... A very awkward, silent minute or so passes. Suddenly the driver gets up, opens his door and gets out. Looking at us he says "I get Chai.", staring back at him we give him the same confused answer "Okay...", he shuts the door and walks away. Looking around we discover that we had stopped at some sort of road side coffee/tea stand. There are several people standing near a small hut behind us, which by our guess was where our driver had gone to get his tea. 'Is he going back there to arrange our robbery?' I wondered to myself, feeling far too vulnerable for comfort or rationality. With the driver gone, Aaron and I have a moment to discuss our thoughts. I discover that he was having the exact same thoughts as me throughout the drive. As we chat, a group of men begins to walk towards our car. I watch them intently again sizing them up. As they continue to approach, my stare intensifies, until... they pass us by. A short distance ahead they get in a vehicle and drive off. I take a moment to let Aaron know how little I am enjoying this random roadside stop (that's a polite way of putting it...). My feelings are reciprocated. After another minute or so our driver comes back to the car, opens the door, steps inside and without a word, starts up the car and continues driving.
Initially, the chai appears to have woken him up slightly, but as we drive on the eye rubbing, head shaking and face wiping continues...
Now two and a half hours into the journey, I ask the driver how much farther he thinks it will be. "Hour and half" he says, looking at me with eyes barely open. As we drive on the roads degrade to dirt paths filled with potholes and the occasional speed-mound. The sights are no more pleasant as we pass impoverished shanty towns, immediately followed by nice villa homes and shops, and again followed by more shanty towns.
Once again bobbing and weaving through traffic, honking and flashing his lights, our driver stares silently ahead occasionally rubbing his eyes or quickly shaking his head... He seems very tired. As we continue, the frequency of his eye rubs increases and all of a sudden, he pulls off the highway and parks on the side of the road, near some other trucks. My fear kicks in again... What is going on?
Below: a night-time shot of the main drag in Gokulam
He looks at us both and says "Ten minutes... I need ten minutes.". Confused we say "okay...?", and the driver looks forward, places his forehead on the steering wheel and appears to go to sleep... A very awkward, silent minute or so passes. Suddenly the driver gets up, opens his door and gets out. Looking at us he says "I get Chai.", staring back at him we give him the same confused answer "Okay...", he shuts the door and walks away. Looking around we discover that we had stopped at some sort of road side coffee/tea stand. There are several people standing near a small hut behind us, which by our guess was where our driver had gone to get his tea. 'Is he going back there to arrange our robbery?' I wondered to myself, feeling far too vulnerable for comfort or rationality. With the driver gone, Aaron and I have a moment to discuss our thoughts. I discover that he was having the exact same thoughts as me throughout the drive. As we chat, a group of men begins to walk towards our car. I watch them intently again sizing them up. As they continue to approach, my stare intensifies, until... they pass us by. A short distance ahead they get in a vehicle and drive off. I take a moment to let Aaron know how little I am enjoying this random roadside stop (that's a polite way of putting it...). My feelings are reciprocated. After another minute or so our driver comes back to the car, opens the door, steps inside and without a word, starts up the car and continues driving.
Initially, the chai appears to have woken him up slightly, but as we drive on the eye rubbing, head shaking and face wiping continues...
Now two and a half hours into the journey, I ask the driver how much farther he thinks it will be. "Hour and half" he says, looking at me with eyes barely open. As we drive on the roads degrade to dirt paths filled with potholes and the occasional speed-mound. The sights are no more pleasant as we pass impoverished shanty towns, immediately followed by nice villa homes and shops, and again followed by more shanty towns.
Adam - Death Ride - part 1
Saying our good-byes to friends, family and loved ones, we get on our first of two flights, at 6pm. Our eyes are glowing as the excitement of our journey truly sets in.
It's actually happening.
We arrive at Bangalore Intl. At 1:00am, following our two (very uncomfortable) 9 hour flights, with a 2 hour layover in Paris. Unable to sleep on the planes, it's been almost 2 days now since we've slept.
The airport is very quiet and empty, only a few security guards and customs attendants are inside the building. After making our way past a very grumpy and unwelcoming customs clerk (it's 1am, he's probably very tired, we can forgive him) we grab our luggage and head outside.
Reaching the exterior we encounter a wall of taxi drivers, 3 men deep, lined up along a fence, calling out to us and holding up signs. After a few minutes of searching, we spot our names and make our way to our drivers car.
After introducing ourselves and attempting a brief conversation, we discover that our driver doesn't fully understand English. For the most part he answers questions with 1 word, otherwise remaining silent.
As we drive, through the darkness of night we are able to see silhouettes of palm trees and mountains in the distance. We drive along a nice stretch of well paved roads near the airport and take in some of the pleasant sights India has to offer. The calm, pleasant drive quickly transforms as we approach the highway.
Our driver increases speed and "merges" onto the highway, coming within inches of several vehicles. We bob and weave through traffic, the driver honking and flashing his high-beams as we pass car after car. There are lanes painted on the highway, but no one seems to care. I take a moment to look around and notice that we are moving faster than most others. The thought vanishes, replaced by shock, as our vehicle moves to within a foot of the vehicle in front of us. Honking and flashing his lights, our silent driver moves to pass the car just as the driver behind us moves to pass as well, for a moment we are between the two cars, inches away from both, traveling at about 130 km/h. As we overtake the first car, the second speeds past us, cutting infront at the very first moment it is able and racing away. It takes little time before we reach the next vehicle, a large truck, which we are temporarily unable to pass. We follow the truck, within a foot's distance until the opportunity to pass arises.
Aaron looks back and we exchange a brief, knowing glance. "These people are insane and we will die on this ride." - was the message communicated in our raised eyebrows and slight smiles. The ride continues as described, for the next thirty-or-so minutes, until we approach the exit into the city.
Getting off of the highway, we slow down to navigate the winding roads of Bangalore. For a brief moment, we're relieved. Street lamps and large glowing signs light up the city as we drive. The windows down, an array of scents pass through as we travel; incense, indian cuisine, garbage, exhaust fumes, the smell of burning... something. Looking closer we see sidewalks and curbs covered in garbage in all directions, as though the residents of the city emptied their waste bins onto the streets. For every nice-looking building we see, we pass 5 broken down ones. Massive piles of dirt and stones, bricks and rebar (spreading right out onto the roads) mark buildings under construction. Weaving around them, we pass by dozens of stray dogs digging through the trash, the odd one occasionally chases our car. Every other side street we look down hosts more scrap-shacks, out front of them small fires burn in the darkness. We pass by an inevitable sight, a stray dog dead on the streets (likely hit by some crazy driver), the first of several.
Below: Some examples of roadside garbage, these are both in Mysore, nothing compared to the streets of Bangalore. Imagine the dark side roads of downtown Toronto or New York at night, with twice as much garbage covering the sidewalks and curbs while stray dogs bark and chase your car... Not a happy place.
As dark thoughts fill our tired minds, I can't help but wonder if our driver is actually taking us to our destination. We'd heard of scam drivers, supposedly somewhat common here, who take you to the middle of nowhere and demand more money or just plain rob you and leave you behind. I had used google maps to see the route and get an estimate of our travel time, at no point did the route wind through the city as we had. The fear of being stranded and robbed on the streets of India enters my mind. Sizing up the driver I look about the car considering my options in a worst case scenario. I think back to when we had left the parking lot. The driver had asked for money to pay for parking, 60 rupees ($1.20), searching my wallet I told him my smallest bill was 500. Had he seen my money? Was my fear reality?
I look at Aaron, sitting in the passenger seat, calmly staring ahead. I know he's faking calm, as I am, and after a moment I decide to brush the bad thoughts away. We have no choice but to trust our silent driver. What are we going to do? Tell him to let us out in the slums of Bangalore, luggage and all?
We pass a mat of fur pressed into the road, likely very old remains of another stray dog, our moods had turned, happy thoughts nowhere to be found...
Finally, like a shining beacon of light in the darkness, we round a corner and a large sign reads Mysore, amongst other names, with an arrow pointing in it's direction. Our driver follows. Confidence growing, our frightening adventure continues.
-Adam
It's actually happening.
We arrive at Bangalore Intl. At 1:00am, following our two (very uncomfortable) 9 hour flights, with a 2 hour layover in Paris. Unable to sleep on the planes, it's been almost 2 days now since we've slept.
The airport is very quiet and empty, only a few security guards and customs attendants are inside the building. After making our way past a very grumpy and unwelcoming customs clerk (it's 1am, he's probably very tired, we can forgive him) we grab our luggage and head outside.
Reaching the exterior we encounter a wall of taxi drivers, 3 men deep, lined up along a fence, calling out to us and holding up signs. After a few minutes of searching, we spot our names and make our way to our drivers car.
After introducing ourselves and attempting a brief conversation, we discover that our driver doesn't fully understand English. For the most part he answers questions with 1 word, otherwise remaining silent.
As we drive, through the darkness of night we are able to see silhouettes of palm trees and mountains in the distance. We drive along a nice stretch of well paved roads near the airport and take in some of the pleasant sights India has to offer. The calm, pleasant drive quickly transforms as we approach the highway.
Our driver increases speed and "merges" onto the highway, coming within inches of several vehicles. We bob and weave through traffic, the driver honking and flashing his high-beams as we pass car after car. There are lanes painted on the highway, but no one seems to care. I take a moment to look around and notice that we are moving faster than most others. The thought vanishes, replaced by shock, as our vehicle moves to within a foot of the vehicle in front of us. Honking and flashing his lights, our silent driver moves to pass the car just as the driver behind us moves to pass as well, for a moment we are between the two cars, inches away from both, traveling at about 130 km/h. As we overtake the first car, the second speeds past us, cutting infront at the very first moment it is able and racing away. It takes little time before we reach the next vehicle, a large truck, which we are temporarily unable to pass. We follow the truck, within a foot's distance until the opportunity to pass arises.
Aaron looks back and we exchange a brief, knowing glance. "These people are insane and we will die on this ride." - was the message communicated in our raised eyebrows and slight smiles. The ride continues as described, for the next thirty-or-so minutes, until we approach the exit into the city.
Getting off of the highway, we slow down to navigate the winding roads of Bangalore. For a brief moment, we're relieved. Street lamps and large glowing signs light up the city as we drive. The windows down, an array of scents pass through as we travel; incense, indian cuisine, garbage, exhaust fumes, the smell of burning... something. Looking closer we see sidewalks and curbs covered in garbage in all directions, as though the residents of the city emptied their waste bins onto the streets. For every nice-looking building we see, we pass 5 broken down ones. Massive piles of dirt and stones, bricks and rebar (spreading right out onto the roads) mark buildings under construction. Weaving around them, we pass by dozens of stray dogs digging through the trash, the odd one occasionally chases our car. Every other side street we look down hosts more scrap-shacks, out front of them small fires burn in the darkness. We pass by an inevitable sight, a stray dog dead on the streets (likely hit by some crazy driver), the first of several.
Below: Some examples of roadside garbage, these are both in Mysore, nothing compared to the streets of Bangalore. Imagine the dark side roads of downtown Toronto or New York at night, with twice as much garbage covering the sidewalks and curbs while stray dogs bark and chase your car... Not a happy place.
As dark thoughts fill our tired minds, I can't help but wonder if our driver is actually taking us to our destination. We'd heard of scam drivers, supposedly somewhat common here, who take you to the middle of nowhere and demand more money or just plain rob you and leave you behind. I had used google maps to see the route and get an estimate of our travel time, at no point did the route wind through the city as we had. The fear of being stranded and robbed on the streets of India enters my mind. Sizing up the driver I look about the car considering my options in a worst case scenario. I think back to when we had left the parking lot. The driver had asked for money to pay for parking, 60 rupees ($1.20), searching my wallet I told him my smallest bill was 500. Had he seen my money? Was my fear reality?
I look at Aaron, sitting in the passenger seat, calmly staring ahead. I know he's faking calm, as I am, and after a moment I decide to brush the bad thoughts away. We have no choice but to trust our silent driver. What are we going to do? Tell him to let us out in the slums of Bangalore, luggage and all?
We pass a mat of fur pressed into the road, likely very old remains of another stray dog, our moods had turned, happy thoughts nowhere to be found...
Finally, like a shining beacon of light in the darkness, we round a corner and a large sign reads Mysore, amongst other names, with an arrow pointing in it's direction. Our driver follows. Confidence growing, our frightening adventure continues.
-Adam
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Introduction
Hello!
Welcome to our blog, "A Brother's Journey"!
Our names are Aaron and Adam Batista. We're travelling to Mysore, Karnataka, India, to practice and study Ashtanga yoga at its source and have decided to create this blog to document our experiences, for family, friends and all who are interested. We'll both be posting on this blog, so to keep it simple, we'll be attaching our names to the title of each post.
below: three generations of Batista boys, from L-R, Adam, Antonio (grandpa!), Aaron, Laurentino (daddio)
A vigorous and intense form of yoga, Ashtanga as it is known today was produced and popularized by a man named Sri Krishna Pattabhi Jois. We will be travelling to his school, Krishna Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute (KPJAYI), now run by his daughter and grandson. Here, we'll practice the first of six series of ashtanga yoga, called the primary series. The routine will be to practice the primary series 6 days a week, for a period of three to five months.
About two years ago we were first introduced to something similar to Ashtanga Yoga through the home workout videos, P90X. Something felt different every time we did the yoga video, which is done once a week in the program. We aren't sure what attracted me to it at first. Maybe it was the fact that it was an amazing workout that required nothing but our bodies, and a little space. Maybe it was training to be strong, flexible and maneuverable again. Maybe it was the healing aspects of yoga, learning to really breathe again, or the moving meditation present in the practice.
Whatever it was, it became something of an obsession for us both. Week after week we saw ourselves improve, bit by bit, inch by inch. We found ourselves being pulled to it. When we started we could barely reach past our knees in a forward bend, after a while we were holding our toes.
The daily aches, pains, and stiffness in our bodies were replaced by a feeling of maneuverability and strength we hadn't felt in years.
Then, the program ended... We continued to do the videos on occasion, but it wasn't until expressing our new-found interest in yoga during a conversation with Cynthia Funk, wife of our cousin Orlando, that our lives would change drastically. Cynthia recommended that we enroll in the Ashtanga Yoga Teacher Training Program at her yoga studio, The Yoga Sanctuary, on college street in Toronto. There she and fellow Instructors at the studio would teach us Ashtanga yoga from the ground up.
It seemed like a crazy idea at the time, but something was drawing us to it. After a period of deliberation, we accepted the offer and enrolled in the program. Over 8 months we learned the primary series of Ashtanga Yoga, pose by pose, with the 30+ other students in the program.
During that period, we both discovered a new depth and passion for the practice. As the program went on, we began wondering what it would be like to go to India, to practice Ashtanga in the city of Mysore. After much deliberation and discussion with each other as well as family and friendsdeer both decided that India would be our path. All that was left was to save up enough money to make the journey.
Months passed and eventually, we were ready.
Research done, flights booked, arrangements made; now we stand at the beginning of our journey.
Welcome to our blog, "A Brother's Journey"!
Our names are Aaron and Adam Batista. We're travelling to Mysore, Karnataka, India, to practice and study Ashtanga yoga at its source and have decided to create this blog to document our experiences, for family, friends and all who are interested. We'll both be posting on this blog, so to keep it simple, we'll be attaching our names to the title of each post.
below: three generations of Batista boys, from L-R, Adam, Antonio (grandpa!), Aaron, Laurentino (daddio)
A vigorous and intense form of yoga, Ashtanga as it is known today was produced and popularized by a man named Sri Krishna Pattabhi Jois. We will be travelling to his school, Krishna Pattabhi Jois Ashtanga Yoga Institute (KPJAYI), now run by his daughter and grandson. Here, we'll practice the first of six series of ashtanga yoga, called the primary series. The routine will be to practice the primary series 6 days a week, for a period of three to five months.
About two years ago we were first introduced to something similar to Ashtanga Yoga through the home workout videos, P90X. Something felt different every time we did the yoga video, which is done once a week in the program. We aren't sure what attracted me to it at first. Maybe it was the fact that it was an amazing workout that required nothing but our bodies, and a little space. Maybe it was training to be strong, flexible and maneuverable again. Maybe it was the healing aspects of yoga, learning to really breathe again, or the moving meditation present in the practice.
Whatever it was, it became something of an obsession for us both. Week after week we saw ourselves improve, bit by bit, inch by inch. We found ourselves being pulled to it. When we started we could barely reach past our knees in a forward bend, after a while we were holding our toes.
The daily aches, pains, and stiffness in our bodies were replaced by a feeling of maneuverability and strength we hadn't felt in years.
Then, the program ended... We continued to do the videos on occasion, but it wasn't until expressing our new-found interest in yoga during a conversation with Cynthia Funk, wife of our cousin Orlando, that our lives would change drastically. Cynthia recommended that we enroll in the Ashtanga Yoga Teacher Training Program at her yoga studio, The Yoga Sanctuary, on college street in Toronto. There she and fellow Instructors at the studio would teach us Ashtanga yoga from the ground up.
It seemed like a crazy idea at the time, but something was drawing us to it. After a period of deliberation, we accepted the offer and enrolled in the program. Over 8 months we learned the primary series of Ashtanga Yoga, pose by pose, with the 30+ other students in the program.
During that period, we both discovered a new depth and passion for the practice. As the program went on, we began wondering what it would be like to go to India, to practice Ashtanga in the city of Mysore. After much deliberation and discussion with each other as well as family and friendsdeer both decided that India would be our path. All that was left was to save up enough money to make the journey.
Months passed and eventually, we were ready.
Research done, flights booked, arrangements made; now we stand at the beginning of our journey.
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