...but I was alive

2004-08-07T13:11:00.000-04:00

The link in my last entry is now incorrect, because the address of my new page has been changed. Best to just go to ashtangi.net and follow the links ("blog list" and then "but I was alive").

--A

2004-06-25T10:22:00.000-04:00

This is going to be my last post at this web address. I've moved over to an Ashtanga Yoga collective (how thoroughly yogic!), Ashtangi.net where you can find a whole neighbourhood of Ashtanga blogs (well...soon there will be a whole neighbourhood, for now there's like, a city block), my portion is still called "...but I was alive" and I moved all my archives over as well..that's where you'll find me from now on.

2004-06-24T00:16:00.000-04:00

I'm bored again. Just sitting at home watching High Fidelity. I read the book when I was in Asia (I highly recommend Nick Hornby books to anyone who wants a very funny, but not too heavy read), the movie is nowhere near as good, but that's generally to be expected.
I went to a meeting for my new job on Monday night (the restaurant is supposed to open this weekend) only to find out that the meeting had been cancelled (although for some reason the five of us who showed up hadn't been informed) and rescheduled for last night. I couldn't go last night, because it was my brother's graduation and there was this whole dinner thing that I had to go to, so now I have no idea what's going on with work. I've emailed my boss twice and received no response. I don't have his phone number because he never gave it to us, I don't even know his last name, and the resto doesn't have a phone yet...so I have no way of knowing if/when I'm supposed to work this weekend.
What's nice to know though is that I got a phonecall yesterday when I wasn't home (just got the message today) that a PR firm that I applied to in Montreal called and possibly wants to interview me. This is good for two reasons (1) I would have to go to Montreal for the interview, which is perfect because everyone knows I love Montreal and there are a few people, one in particular, who I wouldn't mind seeing right now. (2) If (and this is a big if) I got the job then I could quit the restaurant and move to Montreal, as it would be a full-time job with a full-time salary and that, being back in Montreal over the summer, would be just about the greatest thing right now.
So, other than that: went to my brother's grad last night, it was nice because all the families were there for dinner and awards and then we left and the kids had a dance. It's so funny to watch kids that age and watch all the social dynamics that are going on and constantly changing. They're trying so hard to be adults but they really are still kids, but they're trying so hard. Tonight we (my family) took out a former employee and her husband for a somewhat belated 'goodbye' dinner. It was a really nice meal, it was great to see her, because we were co-workers for the past four summers and we became quite close, so I was excited to tell her about the new developments in my life and to hear about all her great recent successes.
Tomorrow I'm supposed to do a primary series workshop with Katie and Cheryl, unless of course I have to work, which I would really appreciate knowing at this point! Otherwise my weekend is wide open, because I haven't made any plans assuming that I'm going to be working most of the time..who the hell knows though.
This movie is so bad compared to the book. I'm reading another Nick Hornby book right now called How To Be Good, which I'm quite enjoying, but it's going to have to move over, because I received the new Bill Clinton book in the mail today and Bill takes precedence over everyone (Bill and I are on a first name basis), because I loooooooooove him!
Still happy, head spinning, stomach doing somersaults, heart going pitter-pat...you do the math.

2004-06-21T18:54:00.000-04:00

I feel that it's time for a new post, but I actually don't have much to say. Everything's pretty much the same as it was last time I posted. In short, life is delicious and I'm splendidly happy...
I'll let everyone know why in good time.

2004-06-20T01:06:00.000-04:00

Not too much new to report. I'm still in Hamilton, it's still brutally Hamiltonian. I miss Montreal so much. I was reminded of this last night when I was out with a great friend of mine from HSC. We went out for drinks and a chat. I haven't seen her in so long, what with me being in Montreal, she in Toronto, the whole Asia thing and that fact that last summer when I was home I was entirely too busy going to school and trying to remain sane to have any kind of social life at all. It was nice to go out and catch up. The thing that I love most about this friend is that she's always herself, everything else may change, but she stays the same. Her realness is deeply appreciated. Anyhow, we were chatting about mutual friends (i.e. the people we both went to school with from the time we were three until we were 18) and I was somewhat shocked to find out that all the people from high school are all still friends with each other, and, to a great extent, only each other. Now, it's not that I've been purposely excluded from this group in any way, it's just that I graduated high school a year early and then moved to another province, which effectively cut me out of the loop. I did the rest myself. I got a wonderful new group of friends in Montreal and I moved on and assumed everyone else did the same. But they didn't. I don't have a problem with their choices at all, and I hope that they don't with mine (although if they do, I don't care), I just find it strange how our paths which both came from the same place followed such divergent routes. I am so happy where I am now, wouldn't want to go back. I might try and hang out with them this summer, but I kind of wonder why. I moved to a new city, got new friends, had tons of experiences that they aren't aware of, and I feel that to go back would be to erase everything that's happened in the past four years, the progress and the evolution. To them I am the same Andrea that I was when I was ten. I've changed. A lot. Maybe I've become a heartless, jaded city-dweller. At least I'm a happy, heartless, jaded city-dweller. Besides, I can buy beer and wine in my corner store, which is more than the Ontarians can say (irrelevant, but important nonetheless!).
Went to yoga this morning. Katie was teaching again and Cheryl was assisting. It was a nice practice. I was very happy with my backbending today, getting more and more weight in my legs and less in my arms. But my left hamstring is really starting to kill me again. I'm supposed to do a primary series workshop on Thursday, but I might have to cancel, because I think it might require a rest. Today after class and throughout the day pain was radiating from the top of my hamstring up through my left 'buttock' (to be clinical) and into my lower back. Probably not a good thing. I think that the cold, damp weather may have affected it today..it only started bothering me in India when the monsoon started. I'm starting to think about getting something done about it (any suggestions? Rolfing? Deep tissue massage?), because this can't keep happening. Luckily my savasana was peaceful and without any teariness, as I was in a splendid mood, I've been happy and smiley lately on account of...stuff. Time to get back to the subject of my 'stalking' (it's a joke)and the extraordinary thing that is gmail.

2004-06-15T23:15:00.000-04:00

"Noon comes and turns this campus upside down/I watch the students in this
college town/You would think they're carefree, I have seen their trials/
Frowning into Shakespeare and practicing their smiles/Even underlining
Nabokov/When I am not in love, in love/It happens every day/With their journals in cafes/Looking up at their reflections on the other wall/With every new idea, wondering if they've changed at all/Then they turn away/It happens every day."
--Dar Williams, "It Happens Every Day."

It happened again. It seems that whenever I go to yoga now, since I've been home, it's turned into some strange, emotional experience by the time savasana rolls around. Katie was back teaching her first class since she left for Mysore in the winter, and I was so excited to see her. She made a special introduction to the class, noting that there was someone she had a special Mysore connection with in the class, that being me. We chatted after class, it was nice to have someone here who has also been there. Anyhow, during the opening invocation something hit me, I think it was her intonation. She was using the same intonation that was used in India and it made me smile, made me feel like I was part of something, belonged to a community of crazy yogis with whom I really fit.
Class was good, but my left hamstring is still really bothering me in the prasarita series(A, B, C and D) while in Mysore my head was on the floor in all of them except B, it's now hovering a good 4-6 inches off the ground in all of them, because my hamstring is still too sensitive. Otherwise it was a nice practice that moved at a pretty good pace. My backbends felt good and I got an awesome Sheshadri-esque adjustment in sarvangasana. Then the rest of finishing and savasana,and *bam* the emotional thing happened again. I was just there, on my mat, trying to relax, feeling really very spaced-out (in a wonderful, calm, meditative way)when I started to feel a little teary. What is it that's opened or is in the process of opening that's causing all this? Is it just the realization of my experiences in Asia that's causing so much stuff to come to the surface? So there I was, a touch emotional and I was thinking about everything that's changed in the past year, and not the obvious stuff like graduating and travelling, but the more subtle, personal stuff.
A year ago where was I? Here, at home in Ontario, working full time and going to school 4 nights a week. It was a horrible summer, but I did what I had to do to graduate early. Sure I went to school without a break for 16 months straight, but it was worth it. Where was I emotionally though? I was unsure, kind of unstable. My heart was somewhere, with someone who no longer wanted my affections. I couldn't let go, my grasp couldn't be loosened. Despite the heartache and the years of on-again-off-again instability I was grasping for something, anything, and the thought of nothing was unfathomable and heartbreaking. I was unsure of where my life was heading, scared, nervous, shaking at the thought of sending out law school applications. I got information packages sent from a number of schools, and to this day they're sitting untouched, unopened, because I was too stressed and too worried to even open them.
And now, it's as though I've been visited by a fairy godmother and circumstances and outlooks have been magically changed, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that no pumpkins appear at midnight. That person that I couldn't let go of has been set adrift from my heart and my memories. There was a time when I would fantasize about not thinking about him every day, and I had the realization while I was in Mysore that that has come to pass. What happened? Well, I tried once more, valiantly and with all I had to make it work even though I knew it was a stretch and that his heart had slipped away awhile ago, and then I got my heartbroken all over again. Something I should have seem coming, something I did see coming, but chose to ignore...selective intuition. Was it India? Was it Singapore (or rather, stuff that happened in Singapore)? I have no idea, but I do remember driving home to Delhi from the Taj Mahal and realising that I'd let it all go. It must be drifting away on Bali's waves, or sitting lonely on a Singaporean subway car, but wherever it is, it's vanished, and for that I am very thankful, and a little bit wistful. Detachment is tough, but it's good to be without the weight of it on my shoulders. It was with me for four years and finally, at long last I have been liberated, or rather, I liberated myself.
And my future, while certainly still unsure to some degree, at least it no longer causes me to break out in hives or hide from the mail carrier. I came to accept something that I'd known deep down for awhile: while I'd make a good lawyer, I didn't want that life. I want more freedom and a lot more creativity. I want to write. And I will. Just knowing what I want to do has made my life a lot lighter. I'm excited. I'm motivated. I'm happy.
Since I've come home to Canada I've realised that I'm a lot more secure. Anyone who knows me knows that self-esteem has generally not been a problem for me. I'm a pretty confident person with a lot to say and I'm not afraid to say it..sometimes I should probably be more afraid! But only after coming home and living in my normal context for awhile have I noticed that the little insecurities that I carried around with me have vanished (which is not to say that I'm without insecurities). I feel wonderfully secure and content and without worry. I think that a lot of the insecurities must have been tied to some of that baggage that I was carrying around, but now that that's been dealt with I feel renewed. And so tonight in savasana that's where I was: thinking about all that I was, all that I am now, how far I've come and getting emotional with the memories of how painful some of those times were, how proud I am for overcoming them and how somewhere, deep down I am so sad about letting that one person out of my life, because he was in it forever, but so happy, invigorated and grateful to be free.
I realise that this is just a lot of babbling, and somewhat inarticulate, incoherent babbling at that, but it's nice to articulate it in whatever fashion possible, and I like that I now feel secure enough to share these thoughts with the wide world (okay, the five or so people who read this!). It's on days like these that I am so thankful for yoga, for Mysore, for Asia and for my own evolution. Om shanti.

2004-06-14T15:49:00.000-04:00

Yay! I got the job! I'll be hostessing at an haute Japanese resto/cocktail lounge that's opening in the heart of my city's bar/resto district. And tonight I have to go for a tasting to try all the items on the menu...poor me!
Obviously it's not a job that I want for the rest of my life, but it's exactly what I was looking for for this summer. It should be a great way to meet and mingle and an outlet for my innate need to work with people. It was so easy.

P.S. What's with the people who show up for job interviews wearing halter tops and shirts with bare midriffs, not to mention the ubiquitous far-too-tight jeans???

2004-06-13T22:40:00.000-04:00

Free Hit Counters

2004-06-13T21:31:00.000-04:00

I have a plan. Thank God. I felt like I was going crazy this whole past week. Crazy with confusion, lack of direction and too much yoga in too little time (2 classes in 12 hours...one Tuesday evening an then again Wednesday morning, bad idea!). So I spent the whole week feeling useless and unproductive as I bumped around, staying at home, visiting with my families (2 houses, 4 parents)and reading the classified ads, I was like the caricature of an unemployed person.
Much to my relief I headed up to the cottage on Friday afternoon with my mum and stepdad and was able to chill for the weekend: shopping in a little town nearby on Saturday, sitting on the deck, watching the lake, reading the Globe and Mail and eating fresh Ontario asparagus and strawberries. On Friday night my mum sat me down, told me I needed a plan and proceeded to help me formulate one. Where would I be without her to shove me in the right direction when I'm feeling depressed and being complacent?!? So, the plan is this: spend the summer at home here in Ontario and get a short-term job and hold on to my apartment in Montreal. In September I'll return to Montreal and to my sublime apartment to start finding a real, grown-up job for a year before I head off to the States (fingers crossed) for grad school. It seems so straightforward and simple now, but last week I was so confused that a cohesive plan was far, far away for me.
I've got my C.V. together and I'm starting to plan where I want to work/what I want to do. I'm going tomorrow afternoon to a new high-end resto that's opening and looking for staff, and I'm pretty sure that I'd be a superb hostess, so...maybe that will work out?
Ran into a great friend of mine from high school (and elementary school) today, which was fantastic. I'm looking forward to getting back in touch with my friends here in Ontario. Katie's supposed to be back in town today and will begin teaching classes again this week, which I'm so looking forward to, although I'm not sure that I'll be able to take her seriously anymore after all our crazy antics in Mysore!
Yesterday my photo and a little blurb were in the announcements section of our local daily (not TOO local, still has a circulation of like, 400 000+). My parents put me in there for my graduation, but I wrote the blurb. Now my mum has been telling everyone she sees about it, and canvassing the neighbours to see if she can have their left-over newspapers!
Here's the blurb:

It is with immense pride, and memories of a few tears and much more laughter shared along the way, that we announce Andrea’s graduation with distinction from McGill University with a Bachelor of Arts in history and political science. Andrea plans to take a year off from school before returning to attain her Masters degree in magazine journalism. Congratulations Andrea on the successful early completion of your degree in December and your safe return from your four month journey throughout Southeast Asia and India. May you continue to chase after your dreams and to seek joie de vivre in all that you do.
With love, pride and elation,
Daddy, Gail and Jonathan, Mummy and Bobby.

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” –e.e. cummings

I was happy with it, and it was certainly more original than the other "Congratualtions on your graduation, may the future hold great things for you.." run-of-the-mill announcements.
I suppose that that's all I have to say for now.I'm falling back into the whole Ontario routine, slowly getting used to it. It's hard to get used to anything after having been in Asia for four months. I am looking forward to reconnecting with friends though and hopefully making new ones, which is why I'd really like a job working in a resto. After all that time in the pro-shop at the golf course heaven knows that my people skills are well-honed and now I just want a change of scenery. It feels so much better to know where i'm heading, for the next couple months at least. My feet are finally on the ground again, and I'm wearing my new black mary-janes.

2004-06-10T00:24:00.000-04:00

Well, I think that it’s finally setting in, the trip and all that it meant and will come to mean, it’s starting to settle, start to make sense, coming together, starting to. Last night I was taking a yoga class at Katie and her Mum’s shala in Burlington (I’m home in Ontario right now visiting my family and trying to figure out the next year…still) and I had a pretty good practice, although my mind seemed to be wandering more than usual, but when it came time for savasana, there I was and for the second time in my short yoga history the whole crying thing hit me. The last time it happened was in Mysore when on a particularly low day, I was sick and couldn’t finish practice and therefore frustrated with my body, I went into the finishing room and sobbed because all I wanted was to be at home with my mum to look after me. Funny, because last night all I could think was that I wanted to be in India, back practicing in Mysore, hanging out with the crowd there who I miss so much more that I can begin to say or even understand myself, hearing Sharath say, “very gooood,” and shopping for glass bangles at Devraja Market and yogic books at Ashok Book Centre
…But I’m back at home, back where I was so desperately longing to be. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be here, I find myself having newfound appreciation for everything so innately Ontarian, like the endless stretches of green, rolling farmland and the small-town mentality of so many people here who insist that Stephen Harper should be the next PM because he wants to get rid of the gun registry and who say, “India? Why’d you wanna go there?”. I even find myself enjoying the massive shopping centres and power centres that litter the landscape of the GTA. I love how the Canadians (and particularly the Calgarians) have rallied around the Calgary Flames even though they lost the Stanley Cup, everything about it is so damn Canadian and it makes me smile, but I guess I’m starting to see how much the trip has affected me.
So last night I was thinking about Mysore, and thinking about how lucky I am to have been there, how lucky I am to have had the experience throughout Asia that I did and how it’s all over now. It’s like that post-trip depression is setting in. Don’t be alarmed, it’s nothing serious, it’s just that I’m home now, the excitement about my return is over, graduation is over, I’m back in Ontario and it’s all normal again and the thing that I was looking so forward to for the past year and a half, hell, for longer than I can remember, is over. My trip is over, and I don’t know what’s next, and I don’t belong anywhere right now. Before I was always a student, a Hillfield student, a McGill student, then a backpacker and a yogi and now, now what am I ? Unemployed. Unsure. Without a place or a plan. This huge, defining, punctuating trip has ended, school has ended and the path is unclear and I’m fucking scared, I am. I’m confused and I want to be in Montreal, but I like it here, but I need to make money and I feel like I’m wasting time etcetera etcetera etcetera. Okay, in retrospect I can see how all that might bring about a few tears, it’s a time of transition and change and lack of routine, but soon, soon it will all work out, I will have a routine again and things will make sense….
"But some things they stay the same/Like time, there's always time/On my mind/So pass me by, I'll be fine/Just give me time..." --Damien Rice, "Older Chests"

2004-06-05T09:07:00.000-04:00

"These are the days that I've been missing/Give me the taste, give me the joy of summer wine/ These are the days that bring new meaning/ I feel the stillness of the sun and I feel fine/Sometimes when the nights are closing early/I remember you and I start to smile..." --Jamie Cullum, "These are the days"

I've been back for a week, and it's funny how so little time can change so much. I came home to Montreal with every intention of spending the week here and then slaving away packing up my apartment, heading home to Ontario, stashing everything in storage until I could find an apartment/job in Toronto and then moving to the big, bad T dot. Well, it's very easy to make such huge decisions from the other side of the world from which persepctive is totally different, but come home, come back to Montreal in summertime, sit in sidewalk cafes drinking bols of cafe au lait, hang out on friends' back patios laughing, reminiscing and eating waffles, get back to your beautiful apartment with its washer and dryer, dishwasher and pretty flowers scattered all around, and then try to leave. Is not possible madam.
This week I graduated from McGill, got my B.A., my exciting Latin diploma in its exciting mahoghany frame, got to wear the robe and the hood and the mortarboard, so now McGill isn't my excuse to stay in Montreal anymore, and so here I am, trying to find a new excuse to stay here (aside from the obvious: friends, I hate moving etc.). Anyone who knows me at all knows that I've been having a torrid love affair with this city for the past four years, and it seems that we're still in the honeymoon phase. Who can turn down the shopping, 99 cent pizza after drinking, Darby's shala and Fairmount bagels? Who? So, you're asking yourselves, if Andrea is so in love with her city, why did she decide so quickly and easily to move to Toronto while she was away? Well, when you're not actually in Montreal it's easy to believe that you can escape from its clutches, and furthermore, it was an issue of practicality. I need to make money for grad school and there is not much money to be had in Montreal. People keep telling me, "Andrea, follow your heart, do what your instinct tells you." Well, my instinct tells me to stay put, and if my instinct had a bank account with $50 000 in it that would be great, but it doesn't, thus pragmatism. But I was sitting with friends the other day, having fallen right back into the grrove with them, feeling as comfortable as ever, new copper highlights in my hair and thinking, screw pragmatism, what about quality of life? What about fun and joie de vivre?
I walk around this city with a huge grin on my face, smiling at the squeegie kids and the wealthy elderly women from Westmount and the pomp and circumstance of convocation and I think, 'I fit here, this is me, this place makes me happy.' I have the greatest time doing the most mundane tasks, like going grocery shopping, just because I'm doing those mundane tasks in Montreal and there's something in the air here, in the water and now its in my bones and in my heart and I don't want to go, and if I have to it will be with regret and anger and I'll be kicking and screaming and thinking about that first day when I got here and I all I wanted to do was leave, thinking about how far I've come and how I want to continue on that path. When I first moved here I hated it, I wanted nothing more than to go back to Ontario and hide under my sheets, but now, now this is my place, I've built a life here, a home and I'm not quite ready to forfeit it to the powers of money and practicality, why should I start being practical now?!?

2004-05-30T01:42:00.000-04:00

I am in Montreal. Finally back home after four months on the road, six countries, five weeks of yoga, too many memories to count and about a thousand photos. Well, it was definitely a slice. Probably the best thing I've ever done, definitely. It's strange to be back home and to be unclear about what my next step will be. Up until now, my path has always been clear: school, school and more school, and now that I'm taking a year off before going back to do my Masters, I can choose to do anything, live anywhere, and that freedom, well welcome and appreciated is nonetheless daunting. I'm sure though that everything will fall into place with time, and anyway, nothing is ever set in stone.
It's great to be home, to be able to wander around my neighbourhood, buy lilacs and tulips and cambazola cheese. My family will be arriving on Tuesday for my graduation and I am excited beyond belief. Right now I should be sleeping, but the jetlag is definitely affecting me, it's about 2 in the afternoon for me right now (Bangkok time). So for now, I'm sitting in my bed, typing, listening to the radio (how I've missed CBC Radio One) and thinking about how I really should be going to sleep, because I want to make it to Darby's 2/3 in the morning. I'll be up early anyhow I'm sure.
I had the most fantastic time travelling, I met some wonderful people, experienced a lot more than I ever could have staying here in North America and I have definitely come to appreciate what I have here more than I ever could before. I have so much to say about the trip, but I think I need a little while longer to process everything and make cohesive sense of all the somehow connected thoughts and discoveries that are floating around in my brain. For now I'm just keeping busy graduating, readjusting to life here in Canada, looking forward to going back home to Ontario next week and eating lots of fresh asparagus. My whole room smells like lilacs and my sari-duvet cover looks divine on my bed, it's good to be home.

2004-05-19T02:43:00.000-04:00

Yay! Quick note from the paradise of southern Cambodia to say that I have a comments option on my page now. This excites me immensely. To my great surprise, Sihanoukville, here on the Gulf of Thailand, is gorgeous with cheap accomodations, great food and even an ocean view: pure white sand, turquoise sea and beautiful children making fresh fruit salads on the beach. Heaven.

2004-05-16T01:12:00.000-04:00

I miss India. I miss India so much that I find myself looking up airfares to Bangalore from Canada and fantasizing about going back as soon as is remotely, slightly possible. The further I get away from it, the more I realise how fantastic my time in Mysore was. There's nothing wrong with being back in Bangkok (going to Cambodia tomorrow), but it's not quite the same. Relative to India, Thailand seems so clean, almost sterile, it seems like the West. It's so strange how perspective can change so quickly. When I first got to Bangkok in January I thought it was so bustling, crazy and even a tiny bit dirty, but now, now it is a haven of cleanliness and westerization. It is sparkling and peaceful. I miss India's stench, grime and character. When can I go back there? Take me back there. I miss the routine of my day centering around practice. And try as I might, there are no fenugreek rotis or badam milk to be found in Thailand. For a place that I was so hesitant to visit, India shocked and surprised me and left me wanting more. And I still don't know what it is about that place. It's bustling, noisy, colourful, ever-spinning and chaotic, a cacophony of sounds, people, languages, cultures.
Time to go grab some lunch here in Bangkok (well, in my case breakfast), maybe get a massage today, hang out a bit at the hostel, write in my journal and try to sort out all my thoughts about India, this trip and the future. One things remains certain though: I will return.

2004-05-13T07:51:00.000-04:00

I am a horrible blogger, I know. I'm afraid that I got a little too caught up in my social activities during my last days in Mysore and I was a little too lazy to record all my memories, thoughts and sentiments here, because I was too busy living it.
Here I am, back in Bangkok where this whole crazy adventure started, and where it will all come to a grinding halt in two weeks. I have so much to say about my time in India, but I feel like I need to get a little distance from it to be more objective and clear about my experiences there. Suffice it to say for now, that India was an incredible experience that jolted me in innumberable ways.
My time in Mysore was wonderful, and I hope to return there as soon as money and commitments permit. My practice came a long way, both physically and mentally, and I learned how inextricably linked the physical and mental aspects of the practice are. By the end of my fifth week of practice with Sharath my backbending had improved immensely (after a couple weeks of full series practice), and aside from the hamstring that when 'snap' (and is still hurting, a week later) in upavishta konasana, all's well that ends well.
So my trip is winding down, but I can say very confidently at this point that it has been quite probably the best experience of my life. I've learned a lot, laughed a lot and twisted my body into many strange and unnatural positions, and I'm all the more mature, content and bendy for it. This trip has reaffirmed so much while it has simultaneously changed everything. But for now, for these last two weeks of free-roaming and backpack-toting I am happy to just take it all in, thankful for every last drop of sunshine and sweetened condensed milk atop my banana pancakes, wind at my back, enjoying the ride.

2004-04-29T02:27:00.000-04:00

Badam milk is the drink of the gods. Give me badam milk and make me happy. Such a simple equation. I don't really have anything specific to say, I just feel like writing, so I am.
India is such a cool, amazing, ever-spinning, sometimes backwards place. Driving home in a bumpy, swerving rickshaw last night after watching Lost in Translation, I was smiling, laughing to myself watching the goings-on on Gokulam Main Road, the same way I do sometimes in Montreal when I see someone doing something like riding a bike while toting ski gear, skis, poles and boots. Same same, but different. I don't even know what it was that made me smile: the rickshaw driver trying to rip me off, the coconut stand still bustling under the half moon, the perfect temperature, the other rickshaw being pushed up a hill by running young men, the light bouncing off the sparkling bracelets in the bangle-seller's hut or just the general bustle? Thinking, wishing I could somehow snap a picture of it all, capture life in India and mail it home like a postcard. "Wish you were here. The chai is too sweet, the poverty is widespread, the air smells of burning shit, we just narrowly missed hitting a cow, and it's perfect." It's just so alive, so raw, so real. No sterile little strip malls, no fluorescent glow pouring out of McDonald's, no concessions made for tourists, just glimpses into real life, into every-day Indian realities. It sounds insignificant, but I've come to realise that in the Asia in which tourism is becoming so central so quickly, those brief glimpses into the quotidian routine, even the mundane, are rare, few and far between.
Luckily sleep found me last night, aided by the comforting warmth of badam milk. The night before I found myself wide awake, tossing and turning, having conversations in my mind with people back home that I haven't seen in years and may never see again, the obscure acquaintances, friends from the past who will remain in the past. I worry about things like whether Trudeau airport has a currency exchange desk, where I'll get boxes to start packing and what I'll wear to meet my parents when they roll into town. Maybe I'll find a place in Toronto with one of those vintage bathrooms with the 1"x 1" tiles; maybe I'll be allowed to paint my room taupe. These are the questions, the thoughts that keep me from my dreams...

2004-04-24T04:50:00.000-04:00

Here I am, finally in a decent internet cafe and entirely uninspired to write! I spent a couple days this week being sick, what a surprise, sick in India, how unheard of! I am in good health once again though, and the sickness afforded me a day of exceptionally bendy practice yesterday when, not only did I bind mari D all by myself on both sides (!) I also finished the series! Today was led class (AKA boot camp) and tomorrow is a day off, the organic market at the Green Hotel and potluck at my house!
Other than the obvious practice progress I don't have too much new to report. It's still hot, but not as bad, because it poured all night last night, which also had the pleasant effect of keeping me awake. Election campaigns are taking over the streets and the general bustle that existed previously seems like complete silence relative to the blaring music and announcements that are now broadcast constanly throughout the streets from giant speakers mounted on the tops of rickshaws. And the beat goes on...
I booked our flight back to Bangkok yesterday, so we're now officially leaving on May 11, which will give us about 15 days to tie any loose ends in Bangkok and go for a quick whirl round Lao before we head back to the glory and beauty of Newark, and ultimately back to Montreal for convocation. When the time comes I'm definitely going to be ready to go home: I've done my thing here, figured out my plan for the next while (which was so entirely unclear when I left in January that I refused to think about it, because it scared me too much) and I'm getting to the point where I'm ready to just get back and live that life. It will be time.

2004-04-20T06:49:00.000-04:00

I have become a delinquent blogger, and so early on in my blogging experiment, but alas, such is the life in Mysore. There's always something to do, or at least a book to read or a nap that needs to be taken. The days have begun to fly by at a speed that even I couldn't fully comprehend until I sat down last night with a calendar and realised that I only have two more weeks of yoga and 5 weeks and 2 days more of this whole trip. The brakes have started to be engaged and it seems like this whole experience, this crazy idea that blossomed into the best four month span of my life, this whim, is coming to a screeching halt. Where has all the time gone? Meg and I were sitting around the apartment last night, chatting, waxing deep and observing that despite our best efforts at resistance, this trip really has taught us a lot more about ourselves and has encouraged a great deal of self-realization (as much as I hate to admit it, for fear of sounding flaky!). It was during that conversation last night that it dawned on me that my dad used to always tell me that as your get older time slips through your hands at an ever-increasing rate. It's so true, and it's really alarming that despite your best efforts to cling to it, time flies, especially here in Mysore.
Things are going so wonderfully. Last week I had some great times. On Friday night there was a big dinner/dance party on Ken's rooftop, catered by Tina. It was a great evening with tons of lounging spaces, Nigel spinning fantastic music (as usual), the coconut man handing out free coconuts downstairs and a moonless sky full of millions of glittering stars. It was great to have everyone in one place; it really reconfirmed, for me, the sense of community that exists here. Being all Cancerian and stuff, I love Mysore for the community that I am now a part of: I fit here, this is a great place.
This weekend a group of eight of us headed up to Coorg, where we stayed at Palace Estate and enjoyed three days and two nights of fresh air, and silence that we didn't even realise we were missing until the absence of noise in Coorg reminded us of its constant presence in Mysore. It was nice to be able to breathe, climb mountains (which we did on Sunday), eat family style meals around a candle-lit dining room, table and sit on the verandah, drinking warm Kingfisher and playing Scrabble. No noise, no pollution, blankets required at night and only one rooster, it was perfection.
Now here I am, back in Mysore, at my little neighbourhood internet place, chilling out and thinking about how sore my shins are from coming back down the mountain the other day. It was great to be back in practice today after the long (moon day) weekend. Last week I was given baddha konasana, and Sharath told me today that tomorrow I will start uphavista konasana...almost through the series. Today in practice I practised awareness meditation, something that we talked about over the weekend, which involves acknowledging the thoughts that wander aimlessly through your brain, identifying the emotions they stir up (i.e. "That girl has an amazing mari D, I was my mari D was that good. My mari D really sucks. Hmph..well, there goes some jealously.") and then letting them go, it was a nice way to deal with all those little things that pop into your mind in the middle of practice ("Hmm...what should I have for breakfast this morning: fenugreek rotis with tomato chutney or oat porridge with bananas?").
This afternoon I went downtown, which I've been promising to do for a while now, and I bought out Rashinkar's entire inventory, well, almost. 2 skirts, 2 blouses, 1 tunic sort of thing, 1 pair of pants and 4 throw pillows. All made out of pure silk, all made to measure, ready on Monday. 10 items for a price that would never happen at home. I'm so excited to get the finished products. As you can see, I've never deluded myself into thinking that yoga has led me to some divine detachment from all things material; I do love my clothes, perhaps a little too much. Banana leaf thali after my spree for a whopping 32 rs. (approximately 75 cents), so good!
Meg and I talked a lot over the weekend about extending our stay here in Mysore, but to our chagrin, it looks like we're going to have to stick to the plan and head out in early May so that we still have time to do Lao. When we arrived we couldn't quite get our minds around the fact that so many people come here for so long (3+ months), but now it all makes sense: time goes so quickly here, the lifestyle is lovely and being in a place full of like-minded people is superbly comfortable. I want to come back. The other thing that's really dawned on me recently is that this trip, for whatever reason, I can't quite put my finger on it, has really honed my intuition, taught me to listen to myself and act on decisions without questioning myself over and over again until I talk myself out of something. Do it, whatever you're considering, or are passionate about, do it, jump in head first, without a clue, without anything or anyone to guide you: it will work out, things will fall into place, your mind will be at peace.

2004-04-14T05:41:00.000-04:00

It's hot. Oppressively hot. Until now, Mysore had been the coolest place I'd been in the past two and a half months. Sure, it was 30 Celsius, but with only 30% humidity it sure beat Bangkok and Bali which were both at least 35 Celsius and about 90% humidity. Cole Porter knew what he was talking about when he wrote "It's too darn hot." I wanted to go downtown today, get lost in the market taking photos (and hopefully not have to make a scene this time, berating a man for stalking and grabbing me), get some clothes made, browse the fabrics at Rashinkar to see what other glorious, cheap things I can have made (curtains? Throw pillowcases?) and maybe pick up a salwar kameez that somehow has the flare to smoothly make the transition from pragmatic dress in India to fashion statement in Canada. But alas, here I sit, in my room, fan blaring, getting lost in yet another Carol Shields novel, listening to Sarah Harmer, stretching my sore hip flexors (what did it this time? Navasana? Tittibasana after bhujapidasana and supta kurmasana?) while simultaneously attempting to organize all the different options I could choose for my life in the coming year. Nothing is clear.

Stay in Montreal or move to Toronto? All the good jobs are in Toronto, jobs I would love to have (e.g. internship at Toronto Life Magazine), but I'm still so in love with Montreal. My friends, my apartment, independent cafes that make the best café allongé, my yoga studio, baguettes from Premiere Moisson and the florist down the street where I buy my weekly $5 bouquets, overflowing with dahlias in August, tulips in April, painted red with Poinsettias in December. But the jobs are in Toronto, and as sad as it is, it's time to think about pragmatism, about being able to afford grad school tuition for an American school. I think this means I’m supposed to be an adult now. Stop going to parties and start talking about life insurance policies, funeral planning and meetings with the accountant! Geez, this all happened so suddenly...real life, hmph.

Life here is treating me well though. I've been playing the role of the bad yogi, staying out 'late' (i.e. after 10 pm), drinking wine and beer, eating chocolate (70% Lindt, God bless Nilgiri's, our grocery store) and banana crepes, oh, life is good! Social engagements have been keeping me busy: dinners out with friends, potlucks, goodbye parties. And yesterday I spent more time at the orphanage, being swarmed by children who stick their gold bindis on my head, chatting with the teenage girls and being patted affectionately on the head, back and bum by the older women (Aunties) who look after the children.

Practice has been lovely for the past two mornings. Twice Sharath has deemed my supta kurmasana to be "very good," and today I was given garba pindasana and now the bruises above my elbows are blossoming.

Tonight, after dinner with friends at Green Leaf, I will be content to come home, drink tea, and watch a stupid move on TV until I crawl into bed with my book, at the late hour (for a yogi!) of 10, and then hopefully sleep well for what would be the first time in days. For now I think I'll continue to confuse myself by trying to decide my future by way of total and utter complacency: laying on my bed, reading my book, listening to some tunes and trying to ignore my racing thoughts.

2004-04-12T02:44:00.000-04:00

(Written on Saturday April 10, 2004)

The two months before I came to Mysore (Spent traveling around Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore and Bali) flew by, and I was interested to see whether spending a whole month in one place would cause time to slink by a little more slowly. Apparently it doesn't. My time here in Mysore is quickly becoming a blur of surya namaskars and the deep ujayi breathing that is the soundtrack of my daily practice.

On the yoga front, things are going well. On Wednesday I was given bhujapidasana, kurmasana and supta kurmasana, and yesterday Sharath told me, "More next week." Whatever, I'm happy to be where I am and if I didn't progress any further that would be fine, but moving on the garba pindasana would also be lovely. I do miss backbending, but I'm not quite sure how my back feels about the prospect of Mysore-style (i.e. brutal) backbending! Yesterday my practice was weak, mostly because I was weak and tired after only 7 hours of sleep (I'm neurotic about getting 9 hours of sleep) after last night's potluck at Meg's and my place. I'm happy to have today and tomorrow off (normally, Sharath's students have Sunday off instead of Saturday, but he switched it this week and gave us Saturday off instead, but I already had a Thai massage booked for Sunday morning that couldn't be cancelled), as is my right knee, which got strained yesterday on the second side of mari D. Sharath pushed down on my knee and it went, "Snap, crackle, pop." I think that it's generally a bad sign when your knee starts imitating breakfast cereal.

Otherwise, things here in Mysore are just swell. The sunsets I see from my terrace are sublime and I continue to be infatuated with India. Cows wandering up and down my street, stopping occasionally at the garbage receptacle for breakfast or a midnight snack, carrot halvah's buttery sweetness lingering on my tongue and the jingle of glass bangles. It's all so sweet. Take it all in, absorb it, go to bed with coconut oil in my hair, dream of Bollywood films.

I've been really tired the past couple days after practice, so I've been taking naps after yoga and just being a typical Cancer: hanging around my apartment and enjoying the comfort and stability of living in one place for a whole month, with my own bedroom and bathroom! I'm so perfectly content right now to be at home with myself, a book and a cup of chamomile tea. Perfection.

Today I began volunteering at a local orphanange. It's home to fifty children, ranging in age from one month to early twenties. I arrived and was immediately greeted with a chorus of hellos, and children asking me, "What is your sweet name?" One girl in her early twenties immediately grabbed me by the hand and wouldn't let go. She led me from room to room, introducing me to the Aunties (the older women who are the caregivers) and showing me the nursery. I began by working with the babies: holding them, feeding them, providing them with human contact and mothering that they need, since they've all been abandoned. I love babies, I have this whole maternal thing going on, it was wonderful. The girl who was holding my hand asked, "Are you a mother?" I told her I wasn't and that I'm only 21. This didn't compute for her, there are many mothers here who are only 21. I followed up with, "And I'm not married," and her face lit up with instant understanding, as in India the thought of being an unwed mother is entirely foreign. We ate lunch with the children: idlis and dahl on the concrete floor. Occasionally one of the Aunties would pass by and pat me on the back or grab my face in the same fashion that your great-Aunt Ida might...There is such camaraderie within the female community in India (as well as in the male community). There is so little contact between sexes that very strong communities are forged among the same gender. After lunch Meg and I helped a little boy with Cerebral Palsy do his exercises. His smile is dazzling and he loves clapping.

The director of the orphanange is originally from Maine (she's been living in India for 25 years), and she explained to me that she's generally had bad experiences with yogis, as they can't seem to keep commitments. In her words, "These kids have already been abandoned once and they don't need to be adandoned again by you." Exactly.

I think that far too often people turn volunteer work into something about/for themselves, as though they're doing it as part of some self-growth regime. While it surely will change you, that shouldn't be your motivation. In some ways, Mysore resembles summer camp or Club Med: purely pleasurable and there solely for your personal enjoyment. India is constantly dropping huge hints in your face to reach out and give back: it's not all about you! Many yogis come here and give a great deal back to the community in many ways, but there are some who seem so absorbed in themselves, in their practice, in their "spiritual growth" that they are blind to the culture and the country that surrounds them. Growth will come with experience and perspective, and surely it is difficult to gain this perspective if your feet are always dangling in the pool and your mind is in the clouds.

I can't believe it's already Easter. In my mind, time's been frozen at home since I left in January, but the reality is that crocuses and snowdrops are poking their heads through the earth. Time passes so quickly, and with it you grow.

Happy Easter, Passover and Spingtime to all!

2004-04-09T08:33:00.000-04:00

(Written on Tuesday, April 6, 2004)
Here I am, two months into the trip, more than halfway done and I'm finally in one place: mentally, physically and emotionally. It's been awhile, heaven knows. I've left behind the crazy streets of Delhi, the lecherous men in Agra and Mrs. Keswani's radish parathas and now here I am in Mysore, with my practice.
I'm sitting in my comofrtable room in my glorious flat, admiring my new duvet cover (made out of a sari), lentils on the stove (thank goodness I can cook again!), listening to Rufus (which Meg claims has become the soundtrack of my trip --and it has), stretching in the crazy ways that all yogis do, as I write this, and thanking myself for agreeing to come to this crazy, enchanting place.
I've been in India for two weeks now (it's gone by so quickly) and Mysore for one. I've eaten enough paneer to choke a horse and probably drank enough masala chai to fill a swimming pool. I still feel like I haven't even begun to scratch the surface of understanding Indian culture. It's so dense, complex and much of it seems simply innate and otherwise inexplicable. The crazy driving, the head bobble, the sacred cows, the thalis and the pujas, where did they all come from? Thank God they've continued to exist in this world that's becoming increasingly McDonaldized by the second (Aloo Tikka burger, anyone?).
After reading the emails that I've sent to my friends and family back home, depciting garbage hearps and sweet lassis, gender inequality and genuine hospitality, all things opposed, bitter and sweet all at once, many have replied and said, "India sounds fascinating, culturally robust, but not very nice." But it is nice. To quote my favourite President (okay, it's a toss up between him and FDR, on whom I have a huge crush), "It all depends on what your definition of 'is' is." Maybe in this case the word in question is 'nice.' It raises a lot of questions: are there criteria to determine 'niceness?' Does one have to be able to answer 'yes' to four out of five questions for a place to be nice? Is it in the geography, or the people, or the number of swimming pools per capita? Furthermore, since when did travelling become only about nice places? Wouldn't it be better if it was about learning, cultural appreciation and self-reflection? India is nice. Indeed, there is garbage strewn everywhere, and maybe the bathrooms smell bad and the occasional tourist returns home with a friend living in his intestines, but if you were looking for the West, you should have stayed there.
There's something about this place. Maybe it's the melange of the people and the tenacity with which they cling to their culture, their traditions, their India. Whatever it is, this certain je ne sais quoi, it grabs you by the hands and pulls you into the party. Sensory overload becomes part of the every-day and Bhangra songas are the soundtrack of your dreams.
Practice foe me began with led class on Saturday morning. After bhujapidasana ("Put your head on the floor," and I did) Sharath says, "You go to shoulderstand," and points to the changeroom. I knew my difficulties binding marichyasana D were going to land me in finishing somewhere around navasana. It will come.
Today was my second practice here in Mysore (Sunday: day off, Monday: full moon), and my first in the traditional Mysore style. Sharath's hawk-eyes amaze me. He seems to know intutitively when you need him there to push you further in paschimottanasana A or to help you bind mari D. My twists were definitely better today, I just needed a little tug for mari D. Sharath says, "Tomorrow we do more."
I'll say it again, there's something about this place. The energy during practice is incredible and intense. You stretch and twist like you never have before knowing that Sharath's eyes are on you. He tells you to put your head on your knee in Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana, or your head on the floor in bhujapidasana and you do, even though you never thought you could. Refuel with breakfast at Tina's or Holly and Tony's and count the hours until you can repeat it all again tomorrow.
This morniong I was more focused on my breath than I've ever been, it was insanely meditative and it took me longer than usual after class to come out of the usual post-practice 'yoga stone.' "Tomorrow we do more..."