Yoga in Pondicherry

A few days ago, I left Val to flow with the ripples of Mt. Arunachala and her own experience. I headed east to the Bay of Bengal to get some fresh air and a revival with yoga. As wonderful as a travel partner as Val could be, it was time to leave the meditative mountain and Val's theories about the master teacher Ayhuasca and to slip back into a yogic lifestyle that I could experience alone. Fresh air and the promise of yogic philosophies invited me to the 16th Annual Int'l Yoga Conference in Pondicherry.

From the perfunctory reports I'd heard from other people, I expected another polluted Indian city on the water. I was therefore pleased to enter the most beautiful Indian city I have seen to date. The Bay of Bengal abuts the wide, long tree lined boulevards peppered with vendors selling popcorn, Indian goodies and whirling whistles. Smiling Bengalis are vacationing and romancing eachother along the rocks, the women's scarves and saris fluttering in the wind while the wild waves of the Bay crash often and spew white foam into the refreshing unpolluted air. The town was designed by the french, so it feels a bit like New Orleans with the cobblestoned streets and perfectly appointed pastel buildings with painted doors and shutters and curling wrought iron light fixtures. It is safe, here. I can walk on the streets at night without any hassle and it's the perfect place to be alone in that regard. However, I finally FEEL alone and don't really see the point of doing it much longer.

There is a famous ashram here called Sri Aurobindo Ashram where a guru of the same name lived with his french partner known as "mother." Mother created the idea of Auroville - a community of international people living in peace and industry. There is a prime real estate parcel right on the Bay of Bengal at the end of the wide-lined boulevard which houses an ashram residential facility called Park Guest House. You can't stay here unless you're an ashramite, but it is rumored to be one of the classiest places in town. Naturally, I went directly there when I arrived. I walked into the gate, ignored the sign saying "sorry, we are full" and plopped myself onto a stool in the elegant lobby and patiently waited for the two ladies behind the desk to acknowledge me. They did so after a few moments and said "sorry maam, we are full." I smiled and asked if I could just ask two questions. First, do they know anything about the int'l yoga conference? "no." Second, do they have a recommendation re. where I could stay that evening as I'd just arrived and it was only a few hours until sunset. The elderly lady said something to the younger one in Tamil. The younger one said "wait." Within moments, they discovered that they had one room left and I was very lucky because it was a garden/ocean view room for only 200 rupees ($4 USD). She asked how long I wanted to stay: one week. She said there was a three day maximum. I said 'no problem, thank you so much' and ran to the rickshaw to fetch my backpack.

When I returned, I stared to fill out the registration paperwork. Just then, two stressed out american women - very pretty - but stressed - rushed into the office and said in a cursory, biting tone: "um, can you PLEASE not place my keys on the desk so anyone can just walk in and take it?!?" The young lady replied that all of the keys were left in that manner and there was no problem. "Well, can you just make an exception for me and put it in a drawer or something?!" the lady said as she practically shoved the key down the young lady's throat. The young lady took it in her hand and the american stormed away. She promptly placed it on the table with the rest of the keys. I kept my head down and kept writing. Then, the other american came in and said "the bike seat is too hard, do you have some sort of padding that I can use?" to which the ladies politely stated they did not. The american huffed out of the office with a yoga mat in hand and the elderly lady behind the desk started to say "please don't take the yoga mat from this site," but was rudely interrupted by the american who said in a patronizing, loud tone "yeah, lady, I know!" and all three of us let out a little gasp of air that she could be so rude to an elderly lady. I wanted to apologize for my countrypeople, but realized it was their own thing. This has bothered me for days. At first, I thought it was b/c this was who I would have to face on a regular basis: a stressed out society making way more out of reality than there was out of paranoia, fear and a sense of entitlement w/out any respect for elders or the fact that this was an ashram community, i.e. yogic ideals and principles of kindness, health and non-violence. But then, I realized that this bothered me b/c this was how I was before I left (at times). I was short, angry, curt and borderline abusive to people at times without thinking twice about it. These ladies were a mirror for me and a reminder of what I don't want to return to. I've come so far. I've softened so much...

So, as I'm thinking about how badly I feel that they represent my country, I remembered that I had an unbroken sealed, new package of dates. I took them out of my bag and presented them to the elderly lady. "Do you like dates, madam? I haven't opened these yet and I'd love to give them to you" came humbly out of my mouth. She smiled, declined, then said something to the other lady in Tamil again. The younger lady said to me in English, you can pay for two nights now. Come back after two days and we'll see. "And please, madam, if you are going to take sun in the garden, make sure you cover yourself - we are an ashram community after all." "This is fine," both ladies said as they gestured to my fully covered body in a tattered skirt, scarf and three quarter length shirt. I then realized that both americans were wearing tank tops and tight pants. No wonder they refused me at the inception - I bet they refuse a lot of westerners who don't care for their customs, traditions or ways in an ashram or in the whole of India.

Fortunately, I returned after two days to the same two ladies. I was wearing a long, flowing white dress and a white scarf and carrying a copy of Aurobindo's literature that I picked up in the canteen at breakfast. I tried to look as virtuous as possible. That morning, I asked the photo of the Mother and Sri Aurobindo that was hanging in my bedroom to please let me stay. I requested to stay another four days so I could attend the yoga conference and offered her a flyer of the schedule for her information. "Wait" said the younger lady. So, I put my head down and read. The older lady was watching me. I could feel it. I just tried to be radiant and respectful. "You may stay another four days, madam" said the older lady. I thanked them and left. That evening, I brought the elder lady flowers that I left with the younger one as a token of gratitude.

The room itself is heavenly. It overlooks the garden where I do my yoga every morning. That overlooks the Bay of Bengal. The sound of waves crashing and the cool bay breeze billow into my window and I have a magnificent view. I decided I wouldn't need the mosquito net supplied b/c of the breeze and a fan. Lo and behold, the first night I was eaten alive by mosquitoes. It's funny, b/c I haven't been attacked by anything except bedbugs once in Nepal the entire time I've been travelling. The next night, I used the net and all was well. But, my arms are covered with red lumps. It looks hideous. I met a Belgian man trying to find people to stay in his guest home in a fishing village. I asked him what he thought all the red bumps on my arms were. The next day, his protege picked me up on his scooter to show me the property and one of the first things he said was "how are your pimples, madam, do you need to see a doctor?" By this time, I figured out they were mosquito bites and just had to laugh and decline. I was reminded of the advice: "when it's no longer funny, it's time to go." As Park GH let me stay, I didn't stay at this man's property.

Later that day, I took a rickshaw to Sri Vast ashram in Auroville to see whether I'd like to spend a week getting spa treatments and ancient ayuverdic cleanses with an on-site guru who fuses self fulfillment with love of nature. On the way, I saw a sign to Ananda Ashram. This is the Ashram where my teacher in Thailand, David Goulet, studied for many years the science of yoga from Swami Gitananda. I went to the ashram and it was closed. There was a door that said "enter here, but only if you're happy." A man opened the door and said to come back later and I told him I couldn't b/c of the yoga conference later in the afternoon. I explained my teacher was a disciple of Swami Gitananda and I'd really love to see the ashram. "And I'm happy, see?" I said, as I smiled like a nerd. He laughed and let me in for two minutes. The yoga room was warm and stately. There were pictures of the deceased guru everywhere and it just felt really, really nice in that space. I bowed to the photos and walked slowly around to take in the space. Tears welled up in my eyes and I thanked the man as I swooned with the feeling of "this is where my teachings came from." It was beautiful and brief. I thanked the man and beamed back to the rickshaw.

The Sri Vast ashram site was beautiful, but dry and away from the beach and didn't make me swoom like Ananda ashram did. All the ashramites were out on a field trip with Guru Vast so I didn't get to see them. The place seemed nice enough, but it's almost $100 USD/day and that seems a bit much. I then considered whether I want to fly to the Andamans and relax on the beach. No. I then considred doing a vipassana retreat somewhere. No. I couldn't study at Ananda b/c they only have a six month teacher training course that started in Oct. I wished that I could take a class with Ananda, at the very least, to sip up some of their teaching before leaving India. I then went to Auroville Beach - open to Aurovillians and their guests only. I walked up to the gate and asked a man on his motorcycle if I could be his guest. "Oui, hop on" and off we went. I thanked him as I hopped off and went to the beach. It was odd. There were Indians on either side of the small beach gawking in a line at the white women in bikinis. The security guards kept them at a distance on either side and behind the Indians, the beach was crowded for miles with Indians in full dress enjoying the Bay. I stripped out of my clothes to go for a swim, but only went to my ankles as the water was dirty and there was garbage floating around in it. The waves and undertow were big and strong. So, I reclined on the beach, which was also somewhat dirty and soaked in some rays. A man came along and offered me some of his homemade honey which I licked off of my hand and didn't buy. He was sweet. His wife was selling jewelry to the ladies on the towel next to me. I covered up and we sat side by side watching her conducting the sale. I returned to the cafe, had an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie and observed the Aurovillians speaking french and smiling. They seemed very content and healthy. I realized I have no real skill to contribute to the community if I don't want to practice law. This made me sad. The smiling and happy families made me lonely. I suddenly wanted to go home. This feeling resurfaced from when I first walked along the Bay of Bengal and the breeze reminded me of the SF Bay and I felt homesick.

So, I returned to Pondicherry and attended the yoga conference. Lo and Behold, the entire conference is put on by Ananda and was started 16 years ago by Swami Gitananda. My wish to have some teachings from this place culminated in a four-day conference! I haven't yet gone to see the competition, but I have attended a series of lectures this morning on yoga as a way of life and yoga and health. They are fascinating and resonate deeply with the teachings I acquired in Thailand. Yoga is more than postures, it's a way of living, being, eating, believing, experiencing and feeling. Music to my ears! I'll check out the competition after this blog. It seems very unyogic, but a nice way of seeing the strangeness that India puts to just about everything. I approached the head teacher of Ananda (Gitananda's wife) and told her of David, my teacher. She invited me to practice asanas with them tomorrow morning at 6 a.m., so I will! Wish fulfilled. I told her I may apply for the teacher training program. She smiled. I may. Who knows?

So, here I am in India. I certainly feel that it's time to come home. All the options of paradise, spirituality and contentment are not appealing from the outside, anymore. I feel complete and good, but very homesick. I want to come home to the paradise of SF, my family, my community, my teachers Rusty and Janet and the sweetness that I feel when I think about being . I saw a lady that walked like my mother and it made me wistful. When I spoke with the elder lady at the ashram about the partition of India, she reminded me of my grandmother and I grew wistful. Life is precious and short in this time. I want to celebrate it with those who I love, those who I know. How very, very lucky I am to have travelled all this way and been taken care of so beautifully by mother India. Now it is time to go home and just BE with those who I love in the place where I'm from. Lead the yogic lifestyle of health, kindness, philosophy, faith, kindness and connection. God, I love this life!

I am thrilled to have obtained the very last room directly on the sea at Park Guest House. My room overlooks the meditative garden and the ocean breeze lulls me to peace all the while. I do my asanas in the morning in the garden and walk along the Bay of Bengal whenever I leave to explore Pondicherry. I am further pleased that the entire conference has been run by the guru, Swami Gitananda of ICYER/Ananda Ashram, of one of my greatest yoga teachers. I am therefore resonating deeply with the conference and its message. Every person that I meet is of the same vibration and I'm obtaining lots of insights and ideas about bringing yoga into my western life when I return back home. I also am increasingly encouraged to return to Ananda Ashram for its six month teacher training course, if only to deepen my knowledge of the science of yoga. It holds no end of fascination for me.