We've been back for almost a week now and... it has been hard. Whether it is the jet lag, reverse culture shock, craziness of New York, or returning to find ourselves without homes of our own, jobs, etc. that is the biggest factor in the difficulty of this transition I can't say.
Though I'm living outside the city for now, I have spent most of my days in NY at this point. Things that I expected to find comforting and familiar have been surprisingly upsetting. In India, we looked forward to finally feeling/dressing cute again, now I'm unsettled by the fabulousness of this city. For now at least, I exist in a different reality and am disconnected from what was my former life here. Plans I had no longer seem as relevant and my interests aren't aligned with the life I planned on re-entering. Running into old friends, teachers, etc. is hard.
India feels so far away now; like a distant dream. I kept thinking that with time I'd be able to process it, but now that seems silly. I'm sure we'll both keep learning from it for years. Right now lessons that I thought I had integrated are being forgotten in the context of a different (familiar) city. Especially now that there is so much to do......
One thing that has been wonderful is HSM3. This is my soundtrack these days.
I've got a lot of things I have to do
All these distractions, our future's coming soon
We're being pulled a hundred directions
But whatever happens, I know I've got you
Friday, October 31, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
team yogaheart
today was our last day of class at the shala. we cried cried cried and, with our alcohol tolerances as low as they are (nonexistant), after one beer tonight, we will cry, cry, and cry again.
we're going out with all our yogi buddies--the texan world traveler and his chinese-australian world traveler girlfriend, the guy from brooklyn, the girl from montreal, the irish diver, the denver yogi, the swedish dude...
today: yoga, packing, cleaning, coffee, bus tickets, trying not to nap, more coffee...
and tomorrow, to goa, to process it all on the beach for a few days before heading back to nyc.
we grew into this place, or it grew into us.
we're going out with all our yogi buddies--the texan world traveler and his chinese-australian world traveler girlfriend, the guy from brooklyn, the girl from montreal, the irish diver, the denver yogi, the swedish dude...
today: yoga, packing, cleaning, coffee, bus tickets, trying not to nap, more coffee...
and tomorrow, to goa, to process it all on the beach for a few days before heading back to nyc.
we grew into this place, or it grew into us.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
ten fun facts
1. a monkey almost came into our apartment today. we watched from the window as he ate the papaya peels in our trash. melina said, "it's eating our trash. and it has a penis." I opened the door to try to scare him away just by virtue of my tall presence, i guess, but it backfired. he just sat there and seemed to give me this look like, "oh yeah??" which then scared me. I consequently shrieked, which then scared Melina, which then scared me. we allowed him to continue to eat the papaya peels.
2. we are now gettin around on two wheels: on our "ranger-style" bicycles rented from the coconut man near the grocery store, and on the back of a 1940's royal enfield motorcycle, driven by our irish friend matthew.
3. our bodies hurt. melina has weird hamstring, knee, and other achy, knife-like-pain leg stuff going on; I have fiery hips and something nasty going on with my sacrum. i feel like a marionette with wooden joints.
4. we met a guy from williamsburg today--he's studying yoga at our shala and I believe at one point we were living within 4 blocks of each other.
5. we found a great coffee hut--smoky, dirty, loud, coffee, chai, cookies--where we are always the only women.
6. yesterday we decided to try a different cookie at the coffee hut, and it was a surprise spicy cookie. REALLY SPICY! masala cookie, i say.
7. I made up a song the other day while returning from the produce stand on my bicycle, with two limes in one pocket and two rupees change in the other, thinking: "bikes rule the world!"
if bikes ruled the world
(imagine that)
i'd ride all day long
(i love em love em bay-bey)
black street bikes with spokes
(could it be? if you could be mine, we'd both shine)
if bikes ruled the world.
8. we have a great next door neighbor, carole, who is an ex-painter/printmaker originally from san francisco. she's wildly interesting and has lived a very incredible life. she lets us come over to listen to the debates on NPR, and has saved our drying clothes from monsoon rains more than once.
9. melina made a very successful and hilarious indian joke. the other night we were helping to cook dinner at the shala. melina was grating some carrots, and the girl who is in charge of the kitchen told her to "be careful!" melina said that yeah, she'd better watch out or we would end up with a "non-veg" meal!
10. we love doing deep relaxation exercises before bed with the singaporean couple downstairs. we haven't mentioned the cockroaches, and neither have they.
2. we are now gettin around on two wheels: on our "ranger-style" bicycles rented from the coconut man near the grocery store, and on the back of a 1940's royal enfield motorcycle, driven by our irish friend matthew.
3. our bodies hurt. melina has weird hamstring, knee, and other achy, knife-like-pain leg stuff going on; I have fiery hips and something nasty going on with my sacrum. i feel like a marionette with wooden joints.
4. we met a guy from williamsburg today--he's studying yoga at our shala and I believe at one point we were living within 4 blocks of each other.
5. we found a great coffee hut--smoky, dirty, loud, coffee, chai, cookies--where we are always the only women.
6. yesterday we decided to try a different cookie at the coffee hut, and it was a surprise spicy cookie. REALLY SPICY! masala cookie, i say.
7. I made up a song the other day while returning from the produce stand on my bicycle, with two limes in one pocket and two rupees change in the other, thinking: "bikes rule the world!"
if bikes ruled the world
(imagine that)
i'd ride all day long
(i love em love em bay-bey)
black street bikes with spokes
(could it be? if you could be mine, we'd both shine)
if bikes ruled the world.
8. we have a great next door neighbor, carole, who is an ex-painter/printmaker originally from san francisco. she's wildly interesting and has lived a very incredible life. she lets us come over to listen to the debates on NPR, and has saved our drying clothes from monsoon rains more than once.
9. melina made a very successful and hilarious indian joke. the other night we were helping to cook dinner at the shala. melina was grating some carrots, and the girl who is in charge of the kitchen told her to "be careful!" melina said that yeah, she'd better watch out or we would end up with a "non-veg" meal!
10. we love doing deep relaxation exercises before bed with the singaporean couple downstairs. we haven't mentioned the cockroaches, and neither have they.
Friday, October 10, 2008
change of change of change of "plans"
surprise, friends.
disclaimer: for those of you who didn't know our plans in the first place, this is not a surprise.
we were supposed to have left mysore this morning for coorg, to go on a 4 day trek before heading to goa. but yesterday morning, in the span of about 4 minutes, we decided that we aren't done here, and that we're going to stay for another week. we feel "in the middle" of a lot of things in terms of yoga, and we're very happy to be staying. we were luckily able to keep our apartment.
today for breakfast we ate a papaya/pineapple/sapota fruit salad with wheat germ meusli.
we've also decided that every day after class we're going to climb the 1,000 steps up chamundi hill, and come back down. we may be yogis in india, but we're still overachieving new yorkers at heart.
the other day, melina ACTUALLY said, "I'm walkin' here!"
and she was, friends.
she was.
disclaimer: for those of you who didn't know our plans in the first place, this is not a surprise.
we were supposed to have left mysore this morning for coorg, to go on a 4 day trek before heading to goa. but yesterday morning, in the span of about 4 minutes, we decided that we aren't done here, and that we're going to stay for another week. we feel "in the middle" of a lot of things in terms of yoga, and we're very happy to be staying. we were luckily able to keep our apartment.
today for breakfast we ate a papaya/pineapple/sapota fruit salad with wheat germ meusli.
we've also decided that every day after class we're going to climb the 1,000 steps up chamundi hill, and come back down. we may be yogis in india, but we're still overachieving new yorkers at heart.
the other day, melina ACTUALLY said, "I'm walkin' here!"
and she was, friends.
she was.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
workin' hard in Kochi, Kerala
rowing a boat through the backwaters
Melina and I were the only ones who wanted a piece of the action
safety first! always use the utmost precaution when dealing with electrical equipment
catching our own dinner, and an extra fish for the resident pregnant cat
it's funny
Back in the states, no one can figure out Melina's name. Common interpretations/variations:
Malena
Milena
Malana
Melissa
Alana
Melita
Malika
And back in the states, my name's as common as something that is very common.
But here in India, the name Melina is understood immediately, even celebrated--we've heard there's an Indian celebrity with the same name. This means that we use her name for food orders, hotel reservations, and the semi-obligatory introductions to eager passerby.
The name Kate is feared and looked upon with vague disgust. Various interpretations/variations:
Cage
Kale
Kelly
The guy that thought my name was Cage said that he was very scared of me because he didn't want to be locked inside a cage. I then corrected him, and after that he was very excited to learn that I was "named after" the girl from Titanic, Kate Winslet.
Malena
Milena
Malana
Melissa
Alana
Melita
Malika
And back in the states, my name's as common as something that is very common.
But here in India, the name Melina is understood immediately, even celebrated--we've heard there's an Indian celebrity with the same name. This means that we use her name for food orders, hotel reservations, and the semi-obligatory introductions to eager passerby.
The name Kate is feared and looked upon with vague disgust. Various interpretations/variations:
Cage
Kale
Kelly
The guy that thought my name was Cage said that he was very scared of me because he didn't want to be locked inside a cage. I then corrected him, and after that he was very excited to learn that I was "named after" the girl from Titanic, Kate Winslet.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Backseat Bitches
It's rare that we actually have to be somewhere, anywhere, especially at a specific time. But three nights ago, this was the case. We were meeting our friend Julia at our apartment to cook dinner for her last night in Mysore. We ran to More Megastore to pick up groceries to make a vegetable curry, some rice, a salad, dessert, and cocktails (Mysore Manglers--guava juice and Hercules brand rum; more on how ridiculously sketchy and difficult it is to buy alcohol later). After spending the seemingly obligatory fifteen minutes waiting in line behind people getting their things pricechecked over and over again, using coupons, and trying to bargain down the price of biscuits, onions, whatever, we found a rickshaw that would accept what we wanted to pay ("60 rupees? No, no, we only pay 40 from here to Gokulam, and that's twice as far! No, well, ok, we'll find someone else. Oh, you'll take us now? ok!"), we figured we were home free. There's a post office on our street that serves as a solid landmark for drivers. Lakshimpuram post office, in Lakshmipuram. Can't fail, right?
As our more clever readers may have guessed, no, not right. Actually, wrong.
We drive, and drive, and drive, and as a huge park or lawn, some mass of green that stretches for what seems like 2km, passes on our left, I lean over to Melina and say, "where the f*ck are we?" (trying to cut down on my cursing, really). She thinks we're headed in the right direction, but quickly changes her tune when we begin to experience a case of "bizarro neighborhood"--we see things that we have in our neighborhood, but they are different and bizarro. Nilgiri's, our local supermarket--but no, this is not our Nilgiri's. I lean over to the driver and attempt to confirm, "Lakshimpuram post office?" He nods and repeats what I've said.
But no, dude, we are NOT headed to Lakshmipuram. After a bit more driving, I then say, "Near Big Bazaar?" He repeats, "Big Bazaar," and drives a bit longer. During this time I am repeating the name of our neighborhood, and he seems to be repeating it back. He then attempts to drop us off somewhere completely random, a bus station on the corner, or something. I see a restaurant that yogi friends have talked about--Green Leaf. It dawns on me: we are in JAIlakshmipuram, a faraway neighborhood. not Lakshipuram.
This begins a fight. The only one we've had with a driver, and boy, were we pissed. For ONCE, we were ACTUALLY late to something. We pictured Julia sitting on our dark stoop with all her luggage, thinking we stood her up.
driver: "Jailakshipuram, Jailakshipuram!" (intonation says: "you said Jailakshipuram!"
us: "No, not JAIlakshipuram. LAKSHMIpuram!"
repeat this about 5 times.
driver (sighing, exasperated): "Madam, madam! 4 kilometers!" (intonation says: "What the hell, madam! You made me drive 4 kilometers out of my way!"
us: "yeah, 4 kilometers in the wrong direction! We told you lakshmipuram, and now we're late!"
we start yelling at him in english we know he doesn't understand, and I think at one point I even resort to the "talking loud as if someone that doesn't understand english will understand it better if you say it real loud" : "it's a NEIGHBORHOOD!"
we decide that we'll be much better off just getting another driver, as this one is pissed and we're pissed at him. I give him 20 rupees (we agreed on 30, but he took us waaaaaaay the fuck out of the way, though he did use some gas), and we kind of promptly catch another rickshaw going our way.
On the ride back to our hood, I turn to Melina and say, "Everyone always comes back from India so open-hearted and full of love, but we're just going to come back as huge bitches."
Melina says, "Yeah...but I think when we get back I'll have a bigger heart, for like, people. Maybe."
As our more clever readers may have guessed, no, not right. Actually, wrong.
We drive, and drive, and drive, and as a huge park or lawn, some mass of green that stretches for what seems like 2km, passes on our left, I lean over to Melina and say, "where the f*ck are we?" (trying to cut down on my cursing, really). She thinks we're headed in the right direction, but quickly changes her tune when we begin to experience a case of "bizarro neighborhood"--we see things that we have in our neighborhood, but they are different and bizarro. Nilgiri's, our local supermarket--but no, this is not our Nilgiri's. I lean over to the driver and attempt to confirm, "Lakshimpuram post office?" He nods and repeats what I've said.
But no, dude, we are NOT headed to Lakshmipuram. After a bit more driving, I then say, "Near Big Bazaar?" He repeats, "Big Bazaar," and drives a bit longer. During this time I am repeating the name of our neighborhood, and he seems to be repeating it back. He then attempts to drop us off somewhere completely random, a bus station on the corner, or something. I see a restaurant that yogi friends have talked about--Green Leaf. It dawns on me: we are in JAIlakshmipuram, a faraway neighborhood. not Lakshipuram.
This begins a fight. The only one we've had with a driver, and boy, were we pissed. For ONCE, we were ACTUALLY late to something. We pictured Julia sitting on our dark stoop with all her luggage, thinking we stood her up.
driver: "Jailakshipuram, Jailakshipuram!" (intonation says: "you said Jailakshipuram!"
us: "No, not JAIlakshipuram. LAKSHMIpuram!"
repeat this about 5 times.
driver (sighing, exasperated): "Madam, madam! 4 kilometers!" (intonation says: "What the hell, madam! You made me drive 4 kilometers out of my way!"
us: "yeah, 4 kilometers in the wrong direction! We told you lakshmipuram, and now we're late!"
we start yelling at him in english we know he doesn't understand, and I think at one point I even resort to the "talking loud as if someone that doesn't understand english will understand it better if you say it real loud" : "it's a NEIGHBORHOOD!"
we decide that we'll be much better off just getting another driver, as this one is pissed and we're pissed at him. I give him 20 rupees (we agreed on 30, but he took us waaaaaaay the fuck out of the way, though he did use some gas), and we kind of promptly catch another rickshaw going our way.
On the ride back to our hood, I turn to Melina and say, "Everyone always comes back from India so open-hearted and full of love, but we're just going to come back as huge bitches."
Melina says, "Yeah...but I think when we get back I'll have a bigger heart, for like, people. Maybe."
Monday, October 6, 2008
"It's ok...It's the good pain."
The philosophy behind Ashtanga yoga is one that has intrigued, replsed, inspired, and confused Melina and I at various times leading up to and during this part of our travels. Physical adjustments are INTENSE to say the least. There's talk of surrender--to the guru, to the pain, gravity, to yourself...and there's also talk of pushing, pushing, using force and strength and not giving up. So, you have to really never give up...but ultimately, you just have to give up.
Over the past week it has been really difficult for both of us to reconcile what's been ingrained in us through our prior dance and yoga training--a certain anatomical intelligence and awareness, a focus on correct alignment and injury prevention, and a very deep understanding of what is good, what is safe, what is better, what is enough. In ashtanga we've been pushed farther than we ever thought we could go. The teacher comes up behind you while you're in a forward bend, puts a towel on your back, and basically lays himself over you. inhale, lengthen...exhale, go down, more, more, more...inhale, lengthen...exhale, go down, oh god, it hurts...
Breath really does help, and a sort of discarding of the "that's too much" attitude. At the same time, we want to maintain our bodies in fairly good shape, because they're not just for yoga--we're not strictly yogis, dedicating our bodies to this specific practice in order to attain a higher closeness to god. Rather, we're dancers, we're bikers, we're movers in many different ways. Melina has an injured hamstrng attachment and I've got injured hip flexors, and we're trying to keep these injuries in mind while not assigning limitations to ourselves because of them. Today, Ajay, our guru, had me in badokonasana (the butterfly stretch, soles of feet together). He pushed my knees down to the ground and laid on my back, slowly pushing me down, down, down. My hips are really tight, and I've been going through a LOT emotionally lately, so these really intense openings are intense in more ways than one. This certainly isn't the first time I've cried in a yoga class, but...
Today, while he was practically sitting on my back, I let it go and cried, cried, cried. He seemed to think this was a step in the right direction, and I agree. As I cried, I let everything go, not just emotionally--probably went deeper into the pose than I ever have.
Our bodies hurt, we're achy, but we're strong, and learning, and I guess we see more to ashtanga than we thought we would. Also, (I'm pretty sure I speak for both of us), we're hungry ALL THE TIME. The physical exertion just leaves us wanting to CONSUME. We eat oatmeal in the morning, and then fruit and a peanut butter sandwich after class. Now it's about 2:30 and...yes, I've just confirmed, we are both starving.
We're still figuring out what we're individually going to take from this, and I certainly am not going to establish a daily ashtanga practice when I get back...but I think there's something to this "surrender" thing.
Over the past week it has been really difficult for both of us to reconcile what's been ingrained in us through our prior dance and yoga training--a certain anatomical intelligence and awareness, a focus on correct alignment and injury prevention, and a very deep understanding of what is good, what is safe, what is better, what is enough. In ashtanga we've been pushed farther than we ever thought we could go. The teacher comes up behind you while you're in a forward bend, puts a towel on your back, and basically lays himself over you. inhale, lengthen...exhale, go down, more, more, more...inhale, lengthen...exhale, go down, oh god, it hurts...
Breath really does help, and a sort of discarding of the "that's too much" attitude. At the same time, we want to maintain our bodies in fairly good shape, because they're not just for yoga--we're not strictly yogis, dedicating our bodies to this specific practice in order to attain a higher closeness to god. Rather, we're dancers, we're bikers, we're movers in many different ways. Melina has an injured hamstrng attachment and I've got injured hip flexors, and we're trying to keep these injuries in mind while not assigning limitations to ourselves because of them. Today, Ajay, our guru, had me in badokonasana (the butterfly stretch, soles of feet together). He pushed my knees down to the ground and laid on my back, slowly pushing me down, down, down. My hips are really tight, and I've been going through a LOT emotionally lately, so these really intense openings are intense in more ways than one. This certainly isn't the first time I've cried in a yoga class, but...
Today, while he was practically sitting on my back, I let it go and cried, cried, cried. He seemed to think this was a step in the right direction, and I agree. As I cried, I let everything go, not just emotionally--probably went deeper into the pose than I ever have.
Our bodies hurt, we're achy, but we're strong, and learning, and I guess we see more to ashtanga than we thought we would. Also, (I'm pretty sure I speak for both of us), we're hungry ALL THE TIME. The physical exertion just leaves us wanting to CONSUME. We eat oatmeal in the morning, and then fruit and a peanut butter sandwich after class. Now it's about 2:30 and...yes, I've just confirmed, we are both starving.
We're still figuring out what we're individually going to take from this, and I certainly am not going to establish a daily ashtanga practice when I get back...but I think there's something to this "surrender" thing.
Ahhh! Real Monsters!
Some phobias discovered and re-discovered and developed during this trip:
MG:
clowns--during a kathakali performance. side-effects: panic and tears
shaken water bottles--while carrying a large "water can" upstairs, side-effects: funny faces, may not drink it
cockroaches--ewwwwww
Big Bazaar-- see the previous post on this... crowds, noise, etc.
KP:
cockroaches--ewwwwww. ahhh!!!!
moths--while wearing a headlamp they were attracted to, side-effects: screaming, funny faces
raita--sometimes it looks too much like mayonnaise or another white condiment, side-effects: funny faces, varying "yuck"s
Big Bazaar-- see the previous post on this... crowds, noise, etc.
Ajay (our yoga teacher/guru):
geckos--they are too smooth, side-effects: shrieking, leaping into the air, cowering
cats--they are also too smooth (we think he means the way they move)
MG:
clowns--during a kathakali performance. side-effects: panic and tears
shaken water bottles--while carrying a large "water can" upstairs, side-effects: funny faces, may not drink it
cockroaches--ewwwwww
Big Bazaar-- see the previous post on this... crowds, noise, etc.
KP:
cockroaches--ewwwwww. ahhh!!!!
moths--while wearing a headlamp they were attracted to, side-effects: screaming, funny faces
raita--sometimes it looks too much like mayonnaise or another white condiment, side-effects: funny faces, varying "yuck"s
Big Bazaar-- see the previous post on this... crowds, noise, etc.
Ajay (our yoga teacher/guru):
geckos--they are too smooth, side-effects: shrieking, leaping into the air, cowering
cats--they are also too smooth (we think he means the way they move)
Cyber Cafe
Somehow, we ended up living in a neighborhood with few functional Internet Cafes. The closest one that allows us to upload is a rickshaw ride away in the hip yogi hood. Our local place, Net Dynasty (formerly Food Dynasty), had a connection that was worse than the earliest forms of dial-up. The only time we visited, I sat on a broken box. Although, to be fair, they are now undergoing a rennovation.
At the very least we want to check email and facebook and maybe blog a little but the computers seem to be thinking, "Ok. Gmail. I can do that. Wait a minute... another window? Facebook. Ok Wait you are trying to sign in at the same time? Which do you want? Gmail or Faceb... or the NYTimes? Shit. You know, I better just not respond right now. You're sending mixed messages. I'm not going to respond to that. I'll just wait and see. Phew. This is hard work."
Today we are trying the next closest place, which we discovered yesterday after a wrong turn. KP is waiting for a computer while the 2 kids next to me play first a cricket game, then Vice City. From what I can see, Vice City is not an appropriate game for 4 and 9 year olds......
At the very least we want to check email and facebook and maybe blog a little but the computers seem to be thinking, "Ok. Gmail. I can do that. Wait a minute... another window? Facebook. Ok Wait you are trying to sign in at the same time? Which do you want? Gmail or Faceb... or the NYTimes? Shit. You know, I better just not respond right now. You're sending mixed messages. I'm not going to respond to that. I'll just wait and see. Phew. This is hard work."
Today we are trying the next closest place, which we discovered yesterday after a wrong turn. KP is waiting for a computer while the 2 kids next to me play first a cricket game, then Vice City. From what I can see, Vice City is not an appropriate game for 4 and 9 year olds......
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Opening Prayer
English translation of the prayer we say at the beginning of each yoga practice at our shala:
The common soul shines like an emerald on the head of the snake
Which has one thousand types (heads) and is all pervading
With three circles unlimited
King of Snakes -- I pay my respects to you
Manifest in human form
Bearing the ornaments of conch and wool
Having one thousand snow-white heads
I surrender to you Patanjali
I pay respects to the Guru
I pay respects to the Divine Adepts
The common soul shines like an emerald on the head of the snake
Which has one thousand types (heads) and is all pervading
With three circles unlimited
King of Snakes -- I pay my respects to you
Manifest in human form
Bearing the ornaments of conch and wool
Having one thousand snow-white heads
I surrender to you Patanjali
I pay respects to the Guru
I pay respects to the Divine Adepts
lighthouse beach, kovalam
lighthouse beach, kovalam, kerala
happy yogi melina
happy yogi kp
we left sivananda and found bliss in the ocean
we knew we had made the right decision
chamundi hill
yesterday, we climed the 1,000+ steps to the top of Chamundi Hill. We thought we wouldn't make it, but it was much easier than we expected. We passed people that were descending, but it seemed no one else wanted to make the trek up. At the top, we had our fortunes told by a parrot astrologer. Melina will have one boy and one girl, I will have two boys and one girl, I will be famous, and any decisions that Melina makes on the 15th and 16th of this month will be SUCCESS! Then, we descended, concentrating on alignment and tracking. Yeah yoganerds.
Friday, October 3, 2008
some pune snapshots
never been so happy about a veggie burger and salad
produce market
year-round santa
butcher shop river of blood
participating in the ganesha festival
this morning
We missed/skipped yoga this morning because our lovely and very interesting next door neighbor, carol, got the live audio of the VP debate on NPR. we started listening and couldn't tear ourselves away. Doing yoga at that time seemed utterly trivial. Much of the debate was spent with heads in hands. It made us anxious to come back and just be in the states when this all goes down. Definitely a memory we'll keep always. Then, we had handfuls of meusli, which were less memorable.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Two Lists and the Story of Grape Juice Corner
first, a couple of lists.
THINGS WE ARE GLAD WE HAVE:
our sunny roof for tea in the mornings, drying clothes in the afternoons, and more tea in the evenings
our speakers (which we bought from a panasonic store for about $15, yet another gut-busting story)
our new indian tunics/scarves/general garb from the wonderful FabIndia
Big Bazaar (curse them forever, they have EVERYTHING we need!)
Ashtanga
the post-class chai, fruit, and general super-happy buzz
the feeling of authority that comes with successfully dealing with autorickshaw drivers (waving them past, bargaining...)
yoga, yoga, yoga, sweat, breath, sun, each other, the whole deal
seeing animals (except sick dogs which is always heartbreaking, and cockroaches which are not animals and are revolting ever-living critter-creatures): elephants at mysore palace, monkeys with their babies latched onto their bellies waiting to cross the street, cows cows cows COWS EVERYWHERE
THINGS WE WISH WE HAD:
a fridge (cereal with straight-up room temperature milk is so much more unsatisfying than one might expect)
grainy bread (it's all wonder-white)
injury-free bodies (ashtanga doesn't help, but we push ourselves every day anyway)
expert scarf technique (think nigel tufnel trying to make sense of his craft services cold cuts in spinal tap)
good cheese (we have a wine-fruit-cheese-bread picnic planned for when we get back)
THE STORY OF GRAPE JUICE CORNER
There is a shop a few blocks away from our apartment. Grape Juice Corner. This is the hot spot for all the manly men in our 'hood. The first time we went, we were unable and unwilling to penetrate the thick wall of indian men chillin' with their grape juice. We were in yoga garb (tight) and were being stared at from hundreds of feet away, so decided to try again another time, returning to our humble abode wondering aloud, "what's the deal with grape juice corner right now?"
Apparently, grape juice corner is always like that and grape juice is SERIOUS STUFF AND VERY MANLY SO DON'T MESS WITH THE GRAPE JUICE MEN!
These men enjoy their juice, and there is nary a female to be found. We tried the stuff, and it's straight up from concentrate. Every time we pass by we are ogled, which isn't anything new, but there's something about the fact that it's a grape juice shop that just cracks us up every damn time. We're not sure what makes Grape Juice Corner such a hotbed of testosteroney interaction, but it is what it is. "Hey man, meet me at grape juice corner. Yeah, we're gonna get us some JUICE."
reasons it may be more "manly" than other types of juice:
*dark
*resembles wine
*....dark?
THINGS WE ARE GLAD WE HAVE:
our sunny roof for tea in the mornings, drying clothes in the afternoons, and more tea in the evenings
our speakers (which we bought from a panasonic store for about $15, yet another gut-busting story)
our new indian tunics/scarves/general garb from the wonderful FabIndia
Big Bazaar (curse them forever, they have EVERYTHING we need!)
Ashtanga
the post-class chai, fruit, and general super-happy buzz
the feeling of authority that comes with successfully dealing with autorickshaw drivers (waving them past, bargaining...)
yoga, yoga, yoga, sweat, breath, sun, each other, the whole deal
seeing animals (except sick dogs which is always heartbreaking, and cockroaches which are not animals and are revolting ever-living critter-creatures): elephants at mysore palace, monkeys with their babies latched onto their bellies waiting to cross the street, cows cows cows COWS EVERYWHERE
THINGS WE WISH WE HAD:
a fridge (cereal with straight-up room temperature milk is so much more unsatisfying than one might expect)
grainy bread (it's all wonder-white)
injury-free bodies (ashtanga doesn't help, but we push ourselves every day anyway)
expert scarf technique (think nigel tufnel trying to make sense of his craft services cold cuts in spinal tap)
good cheese (we have a wine-fruit-cheese-bread picnic planned for when we get back)
THE STORY OF GRAPE JUICE CORNER
There is a shop a few blocks away from our apartment. Grape Juice Corner. This is the hot spot for all the manly men in our 'hood. The first time we went, we were unable and unwilling to penetrate the thick wall of indian men chillin' with their grape juice. We were in yoga garb (tight) and were being stared at from hundreds of feet away, so decided to try again another time, returning to our humble abode wondering aloud, "what's the deal with grape juice corner right now?"
Apparently, grape juice corner is always like that and grape juice is SERIOUS STUFF AND VERY MANLY SO DON'T MESS WITH THE GRAPE JUICE MEN!
These men enjoy their juice, and there is nary a female to be found. We tried the stuff, and it's straight up from concentrate. Every time we pass by we are ogled, which isn't anything new, but there's something about the fact that it's a grape juice shop that just cracks us up every damn time. We're not sure what makes Grape Juice Corner such a hotbed of testosteroney interaction, but it is what it is. "Hey man, meet me at grape juice corner. Yeah, we're gonna get us some JUICE."
reasons it may be more "manly" than other types of juice:
*dark
*resembles wine
*....dark?
wildlife reactions: a photo series (#1)
see those monkeys behind me? it was pretty scary getting that close to them!! they're strong, large, and have very, very human faces and hands.
but the scariest part was the monkey that was leaping down from the top of a cave and onto melina's head as she took this photo.
note to readers: melina was not harmed during the capturing of this photograph.
Monday, September 29, 2008
masala dosa
a quick update:
after two basically sleepless nights (thank you xanax), we have successfully relocated to a different apartment upstairs. it's the one we wanted originally--the landlady put is in the downstairs room and said we wouldn't be able to be upstairs because someone else had booked it. but, oddly, magically, miraculously, this happened:
i informed her in my most serious and seriously bitchy tone today that we would be leaving because the cockroach problem was "just unacceptable," and that she would have to give us our money back from the deposit. she refused: "oh no, we can't give your money back." me: "oh, yes, yes, you can definitely give us our money back. we didn't sign anything. we'lll get the difference back and let you know when we find a new place." landlady: "oh, the upstairs room is open, you can shift up there."
OH REALLY!?!?
IT'S A MIRACLE!!!!
wow.
thanks.
bitch.
(we're still bitter, but we love our balcony)
after two basically sleepless nights (thank you xanax), we have successfully relocated to a different apartment upstairs. it's the one we wanted originally--the landlady put is in the downstairs room and said we wouldn't be able to be upstairs because someone else had booked it. but, oddly, magically, miraculously, this happened:
i informed her in my most serious and seriously bitchy tone today that we would be leaving because the cockroach problem was "just unacceptable," and that she would have to give us our money back from the deposit. she refused: "oh no, we can't give your money back." me: "oh, yes, yes, you can definitely give us our money back. we didn't sign anything. we'lll get the difference back and let you know when we find a new place." landlady: "oh, the upstairs room is open, you can shift up there."
OH REALLY!?!?
IT'S A MIRACLE!!!!
wow.
thanks.
bitch.
(we're still bitter, but we love our balcony)
Sunday, September 28, 2008
grandeur
also, we're going to the mysore palace this evening to see it all lit up, for dusshera. left the lights on at the apartment so our crittery enemies won't crawl all over our bug huts, like last night. we may be moving, very very soon.
buggered
cockroaches.
COCKROACHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
today's not as good as yesterday. dinner may change this.
COCKROACHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
today's not as good as yesterday. dinner may change this.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
the story of how two yogis went from sivananda to sthalam8 and were better yogis for it.
good morning readers!
i'm sure we've lost at least a few considering the utter dearth of posts over the last couple of weeks.
Since there's no hope of catching up chronologically and comprehensively, here's a story of hope, excitement, fear, sadness, anger, adventure, and walking down a hill:
after spending about a week in pune, we flew down to Trivandrum in Kerala, took a cab to Neyyar Dam, about 30km away, and ended up at the Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Ashram. We arrived late at night, filled out many forms, read many rules, and were handed a pile of blankets, pillows, and mosquito nets and were directed towards the women's dormitory. Everyone was asleep (10pm lights out) as we fumbled through the long hallway. Thanks to my headlamp that melina will never stop making fun of, and will never admit is really really fucking useful (has proved invaluable on at least 4 different occasions, most involving power outages), we found two empty beds, built our bug huts, and went to sleep.
At 5 20 am, bells ring out, and we are called to satsang. 30 minutes of silent meditation in a large outdoor hall, 30 minutes of devotional chanting, and then tea, a snack, a yoga class, a lecture, a vegetarian meal served from buckets and eaten with our hands as we sit cross-legged in a different long hall, some other lecture or something, another yoga class, more meditation and chanting, and then sleep.
We tired of this routing very quickly.
The yoga was terrible, the whole thing was way religious, we felt our souls being eaten, or rather, we had a profound sense of our personal lack of bleief in souls, at least the kind they were purporting to feed.
We planned to stay for two weeks and left after two days. We escaped in the early morning, dumping our blankets and pillows in the reception room and trekking down a long hill, the wind of freedom blowing through our hair, even though my hair is now very short.
This place was seriously not our cup of tea. One of the main swamis, when I asked him if a godless person could practice yoga (according to the ashrams philosophy--i know from personal experience that a godless person can in fact practice yoga), told me, in effect, that if you practice in the correct way, you will inevitably come to god, and surely even a person that has no belief in god can "appreciate" that there is SOMETHING, lord, SOMETHING.....
it seemed desperate, it seemed ill-informed, and the food made us sick. it wasn't a challenge that we were "not up to," because lord knows we're up for a challenge, but rather it was making us sad and angry. Anyway, the yoga was bad. I mean, who does sivasana between every asana? And, to quote melina in a confesisonal conversation of which there are many, "dude, don't tell me how to do kapalabhati breathing--i fucking KNOW how to do kapalabhati." Also, you can't expect me to come out of sivasana and then do headstand, then do sivasana, and then locust? Out of your mind??!
We spent the next day in Kovalam, running into the waves on a marbled black and white sand beach. We smiled hugely and ate delicious fish wrapped in banana leaves.
The next day we fled even further, to Cochin, a city made up of several islands, surrounded by gorgeous backwaters. We stayed for three nights, took a day long tour of the backwaters, rowed a boat with a bamboo pole, saw a tabla and sitar performance, went to a town called Jew Town, bought dresses, and generally took charge and ruled the universe.
I suppose that brings us up to now, kind of. From Cochin, we took a twelve hour bus to Bangalore (booked ever-so-kindly-and-incorrectly by our hotel owner), and then another 3 hour bus to Mysore. After that trip, we both immediately got sick, having to postpone our yoga shala search for a full day which was depressing. We found an ashtanga shala that we love and we'll practice twice a day. We'll be here for the next two weeks. We live in a little apartment nearby that we've fixed up nicely and made into a place of sanity and clarity. I need it now because my most recent relationship has just ended, and it's of the utmost importance that I "keep it together"--no time to wallow, only to progress. We made an actual salad today. Best quote of the evening:
me: "so, if we can't find a bar, we'll just go get some cake, buy some liquor, go home, get drunk and watch high school musical on your ipod?"
melina: "wow, we really are just trying as hard as possibly to recreate exactly our life at home."
me: "hey man, we gotta preserve SOME kind of sanity!"
and thanks for listenin'.
i'm sure we've lost at least a few considering the utter dearth of posts over the last couple of weeks.
Since there's no hope of catching up chronologically and comprehensively, here's a story of hope, excitement, fear, sadness, anger, adventure, and walking down a hill:
after spending about a week in pune, we flew down to Trivandrum in Kerala, took a cab to Neyyar Dam, about 30km away, and ended up at the Sivananda Yoga Vedanta Ashram. We arrived late at night, filled out many forms, read many rules, and were handed a pile of blankets, pillows, and mosquito nets and were directed towards the women's dormitory. Everyone was asleep (10pm lights out) as we fumbled through the long hallway. Thanks to my headlamp that melina will never stop making fun of, and will never admit is really really fucking useful (has proved invaluable on at least 4 different occasions, most involving power outages), we found two empty beds, built our bug huts, and went to sleep.
At 5 20 am, bells ring out, and we are called to satsang. 30 minutes of silent meditation in a large outdoor hall, 30 minutes of devotional chanting, and then tea, a snack, a yoga class, a lecture, a vegetarian meal served from buckets and eaten with our hands as we sit cross-legged in a different long hall, some other lecture or something, another yoga class, more meditation and chanting, and then sleep.
We tired of this routing very quickly.
The yoga was terrible, the whole thing was way religious, we felt our souls being eaten, or rather, we had a profound sense of our personal lack of bleief in souls, at least the kind they were purporting to feed.
We planned to stay for two weeks and left after two days. We escaped in the early morning, dumping our blankets and pillows in the reception room and trekking down a long hill, the wind of freedom blowing through our hair, even though my hair is now very short.
This place was seriously not our cup of tea. One of the main swamis, when I asked him if a godless person could practice yoga (according to the ashrams philosophy--i know from personal experience that a godless person can in fact practice yoga), told me, in effect, that if you practice in the correct way, you will inevitably come to god, and surely even a person that has no belief in god can "appreciate" that there is SOMETHING, lord, SOMETHING.....
it seemed desperate, it seemed ill-informed, and the food made us sick. it wasn't a challenge that we were "not up to," because lord knows we're up for a challenge, but rather it was making us sad and angry. Anyway, the yoga was bad. I mean, who does sivasana between every asana? And, to quote melina in a confesisonal conversation of which there are many, "dude, don't tell me how to do kapalabhati breathing--i fucking KNOW how to do kapalabhati." Also, you can't expect me to come out of sivasana and then do headstand, then do sivasana, and then locust? Out of your mind??!
We spent the next day in Kovalam, running into the waves on a marbled black and white sand beach. We smiled hugely and ate delicious fish wrapped in banana leaves.
The next day we fled even further, to Cochin, a city made up of several islands, surrounded by gorgeous backwaters. We stayed for three nights, took a day long tour of the backwaters, rowed a boat with a bamboo pole, saw a tabla and sitar performance, went to a town called Jew Town, bought dresses, and generally took charge and ruled the universe.
I suppose that brings us up to now, kind of. From Cochin, we took a twelve hour bus to Bangalore (booked ever-so-kindly-and-incorrectly by our hotel owner), and then another 3 hour bus to Mysore. After that trip, we both immediately got sick, having to postpone our yoga shala search for a full day which was depressing. We found an ashtanga shala that we love and we'll practice twice a day. We'll be here for the next two weeks. We live in a little apartment nearby that we've fixed up nicely and made into a place of sanity and clarity. I need it now because my most recent relationship has just ended, and it's of the utmost importance that I "keep it together"--no time to wallow, only to progress. We made an actual salad today. Best quote of the evening:
me: "so, if we can't find a bar, we'll just go get some cake, buy some liquor, go home, get drunk and watch high school musical on your ipod?"
melina: "wow, we really are just trying as hard as possibly to recreate exactly our life at home."
me: "hey man, we gotta preserve SOME kind of sanity!"
and thanks for listenin'.
Red Carpet Evening
Yesterday, after settling into our new apartment in Mysore, we decided to treat ourselves to the luxuries of sheets, dish-soap, and peanut butter. We slathered on some deet-free mosquito repellent, slipped into our Keens and headed for the new super-store in our hood. Little did we know that it was a red-carpet kind of night: the grand opening of the new! western! cheap! quality! Big Bazaar.
Motorcycles and rickshaws lined the street and families wove their way between them heading towards the 4 story high Target/Wal-Mart hybrid. Inside, the store was teeming with activity. Such a grand opening calls for loud music, special deals on "Buckets! Buy one get one ABSOLUTELY FREE!!!! BUCKETS!!!" shouted directly into your eardrum through megaphones, and an actual red carpet.
The Brooklyn Target on a Saturday has NOTHING on this. 3 generations of a bloodline riding up the escalator. Children asking their parents for lunchboxes with characters that could almost pass for Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck. People buying Tupperware, flat-screen TV's, and shitty produce. Women reading about the "fair de-tanning" treatments offered by the salon. NOISE. So much noise everywhere.
After getting swept up in the current and grabbing some other necessities (powdered soy milk--not great, bath puffs--great) we tried to exit. The cluster fuck around the cash registers was comparable to trying to get on a subway at Times Square during rush hour. Lines? What Lines? What do you mean I can't bargain the price of the apple juice down? And the people working there were clearly not prepared to perform their duties with the necessary speed and thoughtfulness required. Example: Instead of using 2 or 3 normal sized bags for our things, they were all placed into a giant bag suitable for, say, a large stuffed animal or infant bathtub.
Finally, we break through the crowd and head towards the exit where a security guard asks to see our receipt. The receipt we were not given. One one side, freedom. On the other, HELL. The guy who checked us out won't vouch for us. The guy who bagged our things points to a customer service desk somewhere on the other side of a sea of overexcited people. For a moment I consider making a break for it and sprinting past the guard, but I'm not sure Katie is on the same page and the bag might be too big to make it through. We're arguing with everyone and no one when suddenly, from the depths of a money belt, the receipt emerges and we are free.
Today..... we returned in search of a sponge and a padlock. There were drummers outside and it was even more crowded. But I guess there is something to be said for convenience.
Motorcycles and rickshaws lined the street and families wove their way between them heading towards the 4 story high Target/Wal-Mart hybrid. Inside, the store was teeming with activity. Such a grand opening calls for loud music, special deals on "Buckets! Buy one get one ABSOLUTELY FREE!!!! BUCKETS!!!" shouted directly into your eardrum through megaphones, and an actual red carpet.
The Brooklyn Target on a Saturday has NOTHING on this. 3 generations of a bloodline riding up the escalator. Children asking their parents for lunchboxes with characters that could almost pass for Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck. People buying Tupperware, flat-screen TV's, and shitty produce. Women reading about the "fair de-tanning" treatments offered by the salon. NOISE. So much noise everywhere.
After getting swept up in the current and grabbing some other necessities (powdered soy milk--not great, bath puffs--great) we tried to exit. The cluster fuck around the cash registers was comparable to trying to get on a subway at Times Square during rush hour. Lines? What Lines? What do you mean I can't bargain the price of the apple juice down? And the people working there were clearly not prepared to perform their duties with the necessary speed and thoughtfulness required. Example: Instead of using 2 or 3 normal sized bags for our things, they were all placed into a giant bag suitable for, say, a large stuffed animal or infant bathtub.
Finally, we break through the crowd and head towards the exit where a security guard asks to see our receipt. The receipt we were not given. One one side, freedom. On the other, HELL. The guy who checked us out won't vouch for us. The guy who bagged our things points to a customer service desk somewhere on the other side of a sea of overexcited people. For a moment I consider making a break for it and sprinting past the guard, but I'm not sure Katie is on the same page and the bag might be too big to make it through. We're arguing with everyone and no one when suddenly, from the depths of a money belt, the receipt emerges and we are free.
Today..... we returned in search of a sponge and a padlock. There were drummers outside and it was even more crowded. But I guess there is something to be said for convenience.
Yogimobile
Not quite a Yogimobile, the rickshaw seems to be the best way to get around if you aren't walking. Other things we have used to get from A to B within India are:
Taxi
Ambassador Taxi
Motorcycle
Airplane (Kingfisher)
Rickshaw
Train
Luxury Train
Jeep
Semi-sleeper Bus
City Bus
Semi-luxury Bus
Airport Bus
Car
Things we are looking forward to riding: Elephants. Bicycles. ......Elephants.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
honestly
blogging has become difficult lately. we see so much every day and have millions of little stories, it's hard to know where to begin.
we've gotten better at handwashing our clothes in the shower/bathroom/shower. we bought those genie pants that i never thought i'd wear--the ones with the super-baggy crotch, like a giant hippie diaper. so comfy. i realized that something was changing when i looked down at my outfit--baggy cargo pants, baggy long sleeved cotton shirt, and "rustic" aqua-ready trekking sandals--and thought "damn, i love this outfit---it's REALLY comfortable!" on the other hand, i can't imagine that i won't slip right back into my chucks and hipsterjeans when i'm back on the streets of nyc.
we've met some very interesting characters. one that has been recurring recently (seems to all but actually reside in this coffee shop in koregaon park, pune) goes by the name of swami divine leela. his bliss-filled eyes and "divinations" and come-to-my-apartment-invitations make us feel like the (perhaps unnecessarily, to some extent) hardened new yorkers that we are. conversely we've met some really nice and honest folk. when the rickshaw driver took us to the very very wrong place yesterday, a girl offered major assistance (and was shocked and learn that we were "travelling by rick(?!?)," which is apparently "not advisable") , and people will often want to practice their english on us. the owner of a health food store near our hotel turns out to have a sister that teaches sanskrit at columbia.
what we love most about it being here so far is finding our way, and losing it, discovering gems of towns and cities. we love seeing the wildlife. we love being somewhere new (right, M?). we love how we're getting the hang of it. even this morning when we were scrubbing our clothes with a tide bar, groaning and grunting and aching, i smiled inside as i zoomed out on this awesome and somewhat ludicrous picture. here we are, there's no getting around that.
we've gotten better at handwashing our clothes in the shower/bathroom/shower. we bought those genie pants that i never thought i'd wear--the ones with the super-baggy crotch, like a giant hippie diaper. so comfy. i realized that something was changing when i looked down at my outfit--baggy cargo pants, baggy long sleeved cotton shirt, and "rustic" aqua-ready trekking sandals--and thought "damn, i love this outfit---it's REALLY comfortable!" on the other hand, i can't imagine that i won't slip right back into my chucks and hipsterjeans when i'm back on the streets of nyc.
we've met some very interesting characters. one that has been recurring recently (seems to all but actually reside in this coffee shop in koregaon park, pune) goes by the name of swami divine leela. his bliss-filled eyes and "divinations" and come-to-my-apartment-invitations make us feel like the (perhaps unnecessarily, to some extent) hardened new yorkers that we are. conversely we've met some really nice and honest folk. when the rickshaw driver took us to the very very wrong place yesterday, a girl offered major assistance (and was shocked and learn that we were "travelling by rick(?!?)," which is apparently "not advisable") , and people will often want to practice their english on us. the owner of a health food store near our hotel turns out to have a sister that teaches sanskrit at columbia.
what we love most about it being here so far is finding our way, and losing it, discovering gems of towns and cities. we love seeing the wildlife. we love being somewhere new (right, M?). we love how we're getting the hang of it. even this morning when we were scrubbing our clothes with a tide bar, groaning and grunting and aching, i smiled inside as i zoomed out on this awesome and somewhat ludicrous picture. here we are, there's no getting around that.
Yogis, Yogis, What do you see?
We see: white goats, brown cows, many sheep, stray dogs, stray cats, 3 horses, 2 tigers, 1 lion, oxen, long-tailed monkeys, short-tailed monkeys, smaller monkeys, and one black boar staring at us!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
India in Numbers
Q: How many people can you fit on a motorcycle?
A: 5--2 adults, 2 children, and a baby
A: 5--2 adults, 2 children, and a baby
goodbai
peace out to mumbai. it has been chaotic and beautiful and sickening. our hotel room was a complete dump. the food here is incredible. heterosexual men hold hands while walking down the street, but women don't, nor do men and women. on indian TV, they often speak in a mix of hindi and english. there's a huge focus here on becoming lighter, many beauty products are for fairer skin, and every TV celebrity is very fair. today, melina got points for "best yogi" for KILLING A FLYING BEETLEBUG IN OUR ROOM, and not even screaming or telling me about it until later. i got a couple of points for remembering sunscreen and being in charge of the lonely planet india navigation. in restaurants, it's rude to serve yourself from the pots put down in front of you--you should call a waiter over to serve it for you. today we approached the internet cafe and it was full of what lookedl ike smoke. we feared that our connection to our homeland had burned down, but alas, it was only toxic mosquito spray. now, on to ellora and ajanta, where we'll see ancient buddhist and hindu cave temples. we're staying in a "cottage." A custard apple looks like an artichoke but is creamy and sweet inside, reminded me of a mango, and Melina of a fruit she had eaten in Puerto Rico. (I think she's talking about a mango).
Saturday, September 6, 2008
2 days in (mumbai)
we've been in mumbai for 2 days now, and the competition for "best yogi" is in full swing. if you ask either of us we will both say we're winning. we've seen everything from cows in the street to lions (while on "safari") to families sleeping on the sidewalk to a serious monsoon, in which we were caught, and from which we escaped not unscathed. today was much easier than yesterday, which consisted of a very basic grappling for sense in a chaotic city, trying to get over jetlag and culture shock all at once, and quickly. today was more controlled and lacked a monsoon, but did involve wildlife and a gaggle of preteen indian girls that wouldnt leave us alone until we shook each of their hands and said "bye" (this is after spending an entire 20 minute train ride being stared at, laughed at or about, and generally focused on), which seemed to please them. we rode through slums and saw beautiful things. we can't wait to get out of the city and start doing yoga, so we can finally settle this "best yogi" thing once and for all.
Friday, September 5, 2008
We've Landed!
After 36 hours of travel/limbo we finally arrived in Mumbai last night. As expected, it is hot and rainy. Very rainy. Wandering around the loud, crowded streets of this city on our way to take a ferry over to Elephanta Island, we got caught in a monsoon and had to change our plans (for now). In almost every other way, Mumbai is very different from how we imagined it.
Airport Reviews:
Tai Pei: not very interesting, ok for a 2 hour layover
Malaysia: best airport in the world, great for a 6 hour layover--10 hours is still too long
Airport Reviews:
Tai Pei: not very interesting, ok for a 2 hour layover
Malaysia: best airport in the world, great for a 6 hour layover--10 hours is still too long
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Welcome!
Dear friends,
In 24 hours we will be on our way to LAX to begin a 33 hour journey to India where we will spend 2 months traveling and studying yoga before returning to a country about to elect it's first black president: Barack Obama. We'll be doing our part by filling out absentee ballots and encourage you to vote (democrat) as well.
In an effort to share with you some of what we will see and experience this fall, we will periodically post photos and stories here. Enjoy!
Much love,
Some Shrewd Yogis
On a side note, we'd like to thank benchun for the above photo from http://flickr.com/photos/benchun/
In 24 hours we will be on our way to LAX to begin a 33 hour journey to India where we will spend 2 months traveling and studying yoga before returning to a country about to elect it's first black president: Barack Obama. We'll be doing our part by filling out absentee ballots and encourage you to vote (democrat) as well.
In an effort to share with you some of what we will see and experience this fall, we will periodically post photos and stories here. Enjoy!
Much love,
Some Shrewd Yogis
On a side note, we'd like to thank benchun for the above photo from http://flickr.com/photos/benchun/
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