The best diet ever!

Sometimes you hear famous last words and you always laugh a little to yourself, shake your head, and say, "famous last words", as if they don't, or won't apply to you. At India Song House Monday night, I sat next to a friend, who most definitely noticed my drop in weight and pale pale skin. She had done a castor oil bath the day before, which had completely destroyed her will to eat, so we shared a common bond. I was under the impression that well, if you couldn't vomit the water, you'd pee it out eventually. Another friend had confirmed this, adding that you should chase the salt water with 1.5 liters of regular water and you'd be peeing your little heart out, feeling right as rain. However, this friend said that she heard that yes, it goes right through you, but not the way you want. Hmm.

Famous last words. Never before have I experienced such incredible misery. I have almost gotten used to it. Despite all my resistance, I have decided to see a doctor and an astrologer. I think between the two, they'll be able to sort me out. That's if I can be bothered to leave the house, of course.

I've moved again.

Right next to the shala. Beautiful house. Big, clean, wireless internet, tv, dvd, a maid, someone to do my laundry, someone to do my dishes. I will never leave.

Sometimes people really surprise you. I was so afraid I might shit my pants in practice today in a very real way. Before putting down my mat, i went into the office to talk to Sharath. I think a lot of people feel like you're not supposed to talk to him, but I feel like he's my teacher, so why not? So I told him that I was feeling sick and didn't know what practice would be like today. he said to just do what I can. He really responded in such a compassionate way, that I was taken aback a little. i feel like he really is watching us, that he really does care, that there is so much more there that we'll never know because there are just so many people here.

On Monday, I saw Guruji stand up from his throne on the stage, walk toward the men's room and instead of going in, he leaned on the door so that he could assist someone in suptavajrasana! (Just like in this picture, but imagine Guruji instead of Sharath). Today, he did the same thing, and I heard later that he adjusted other people as well and tried to assist someone in back bends, but they wouldn't let him. (click here for more on this morning). Sometimes people really surprise you.

Many people are leaving, or have left. I heard tina's had like 3 people there this morning. There are lots of extra spaces in the Shala, and there is virtually no wait time at the door. Loads of houses have opened up, and its getting very quiet and a little sad as many of the 'long timers' begin to make their travel arrangements, take more photos, and begin to say goodbye. I'm looking forward to Saraswati's classes. I wonder how many people will stick around. I know for sure there will be at least 4 of us!

Happy Birthday John!

PS-I heard from a reliable source that Sharath also is a fan of the Gobi Manchurian! (see pic above).

Alex on the best diet ever:

tap water. you have one spoon in the morning, one at night, and before you know it--thin as a rail!

Between my diarrhea and her vomiting, I'd say we are the poster children for parasite-related weight loss...

Another pool day

It is Saturday, a day off, and what better thing than to take advantage of the clear skies and go to the pool at the hotel formerly known as the Southern Star. At breakfast at Tina's, Emma and I were talking about how there is something about immersing yourself in water after a night of debauchery (yogi "wild" is 3 glasses of wine max and/or staying up to 11pm) that makes you feel much better. Some might even say you feel cleansed. So today, I will baptise myself at the Southern Star and work on my tan. Amen.

Last night at India Song House was a lot of fun. It isn't far from the Shala, but I didn't know that. I "negotiated" a price with a rickshaw driver to take me on a few errands and then to India Song. When we got there I handed him the money and said, "you totally just ripped me off." He smiled and laughed and asked me to call him after so he could take me home. As if.

Around the back of the house someone had set up a beautiful tent out of rice sacks amongst the trees, orange marigolds (?) littered the grass, and over 50 students sat in a circle listening to an acoustic set by Colin and this other guy that I don't know but have seen around. After the set, we had the most delicious pasta meal. I never think to tell restaurants I'm allergic to cashews, and so proceeded to stuff my face with the aromatic pesto in front of me. Shortly after, as my tongue began to itch and swell, I realized that probably I should say something. They made me another dish that might have been even better than the first.

When it got dark, we got to preview the new documentary about Guruji's last visit to Copenhagen (pictured). It was amazing to be watching the video and then to look around the room and see many of the same faces like Lino Miele and Suzanna.

Being here amongst people who have integrated the practice of ashtanga yoga so fully into their lives has been such an incredible inspiration. Every day going to practice is like a new adventure. I feel more and more that whatever we are all doing here is really working.

I talked for a long time with the SO yesterday and might have convinced him to join me here in Mysore. I hope so! I've been looking at plane tickets with a grin slathered across my face and part of me doesn't want to go to the pool, but instead stay around here waiting to talk to him and to try to sort things out that aren't ready to be sorted out or can't be sorted out from here (like finding a sub-letter). Of course, I'll do what I can and then go to the pool. I'm learning to become the absolute master of leisure time.

Book recommendation: Eat, Pray, Love. "All the Americans read it."

Month 2

As I sat waiting in the doorway on Wednesday, ready to scurry like a mouse into the shala at the sound of "one more!", Sharath surprised me with "you come earlier, 6:30."

Boo, but doable.

So on Thursday, I went at 6:30, it was really nice to be practicing beside people I had become friends with. After I did my finishing postures, I tapped Sharath on the shoulder (which is really only okay if you want to take a picture or you want to pay for classes) and asked him if I could pay. We went into the office with the mysore class still going on. (To the bane of many a student, Sharath leaves the room whenever he wants. I've heard that sometimes he's reading the paper in old-school guruji fashion. This means hanging out in a pose like kapotasana [pictured] for 25 breaths hoping that Sharath will finish his coffee and see how great you are).

"Monday you take pasasana..." yay!

"Come early at 6am." Boo!

As I handed over the 17,500 rupees for month 2, he wrote out my new id card. He told me that he thought I was Indian, and I took the opportunity to ask him if that meant I could get the Indian discount. He laughed and said, "for you double!" didn't notice until later that day that he actually wrote 5:45am as my practice time on the card. (Indian students practice in the afternoon with Sharath at a discounted rate. There are usually less than 10 people in the class and lots of personal attention. Sometimes, when he is busy, he'll tell them to go to an early class.)

What this means is that not only am I at an earlier mysore practice time Monday-Thursday, but that I have also "graduated" to the earlier led classes that start at 5 on Friday and Sunday instead of the comfortable but still difficult 6:15. You may think 5 is no big deal, but it means that actually, you have to hold a place at the gate at 4:30, otherwise you're likely to be practicing in the changing room. Up I was at 3;30 this morning. I've heard that 3am is the darkest part of the night. Is this also true in India?

I walked up the road toward the Shala, it was so quiet and so dark, I kept wondering if I read the time right. Then, from the shadows (ha!) I heard Emma calling me. (She lives really near by my house). We trudged up the hill to the Shala road which goes down hill so that really, I could tell my kids one day that when I was their age practicing yoga in India, I had to walk to and from the Shala, uphill both ways! I had this feeling that my skin was dragging me one step after another but that my organs were made of lead. As we moved closer to the gate, dozens of eyes (hollow and bloodshot) stared at me from below hoods and scarves and hunched outlines in the darkness. My eyes slowly adjusted, and I was able to make out the images of semi-friendly faces (it is only 4:30 in the morning) to huddle with.

Inside, I got a spot between Eduardo and Thiago right in front. We had such a good time in that class. Guruji led, and I caught him watching Thiago and I as we battled over (in the most yogic, uncompetitive way, of course) who could fly, bind, twist, fold, and back bend with the best/fastest/most accurate vinyasa-ist technique. Post practice, I was drenched with swet, but filled with smiles.

About 20 minutes after the class, my vibrant, so-cool-to-wake-up-this-early,-I'm-a-morning-person,-really energy wore of and turned into "must lie down". I washed my hair, which was soaked with chlorine from my stint as a mermaid this week, and managed to talk myself into washing my clothes before a fitful 1 hour nap. Hey, I tried. Breakfast at Tina's was delish as usual, but kind of sad because a lot of people are leaving. A lot of people are always leaving.

I'm off to India Song House for dinner tonight as a farewell to Johanna (the girl with super-long eyelashes who let me borrow her swimsuit for laughs).
Tomorrow-rest.
Sunday-ladies' holiday and for some, the return of the second series led class which has led to a certain degree of panic amongst those "invited" to attend. Should be fun to watch!

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