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)

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.

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'.

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.

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.

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.

Yogis through the Ages

BEFORE:

AFTER:

MUCH AFTER:

They weren't kidding when they said rainy season...

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!

India in Numbers

Q: How many people can you fit on a motorcycle?
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).

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.

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