Quotastic

"Mo' monkeys, mo' problems."

- author unknown

Hampi

'allo, friend! What your name? What country??

We are chillaxin' here in Hampi. And don't say "Hampi" American-style, so that it rhymes with "camp-y," as no one will have the slightest idea what you are talking about. It's pronounced more like "Humpi," only Indians don't really pronounce the "h" at the beginning of words. So, let's try that again:

We are chillaxin' here in 'Umpi, having arrived on the morning of the 24th. After our first experience with Indian "sleeper class" on the overnight train, we hopped a ricky from Hospet and found ourselves here. This could not be a more different country than Mysore/Bangalore. We had been itching for some wide-open spaces, and we have found them here. Rolling hills, stacked three or four deep toward the horizon in all directions, everywhere boulders and rock formations of all shapes and sizes. One remarkable Garden of the Gods.

Hampi was originally home to an enormous kingdom in the 15th century, and the ruins that still stand here are the main attraction. Well over 2000 temples,
we're told, plus palaces, bazaars and the like. It is all very integrated, the natural rock formations and the man-made engravings, so that you come to expect intricate Shiva-bulls cut into the rock faces as much as oddly balanced boulders over your head.

It is much as any protected, revered location is in the States - that is, dependent on the tourist trade for commerce. Staggeringly beautiful country, deeply sacred sites, and all of it thickly lacquered with tourist opportunism. This is currently the low season, so about 75% of businesses are not even open and the 25% that are have nothing better to do than solicit our rupees.

We have taken a ricky tour of the major sites and watched the sun set over the boulders. Certainly the latter was more our speed. After a few days staying in the heart of the Hampi bazaar, we moved across the river. Picture a scraggly Florida resort down, closed and empty in the off-season. Now imagine that one of those little resorts stayed open. That's where we are staying, in a small thatch-roof bungalow overlooking rice paddies and banana plantations as far as the rocky hills will allow. It is a joy, nearly deserted and so quiet. We have watched women work the rice paddies all afternoon, singing/chanting, laughing, and talking.

Some other highlights:

- K being nearly attacked by a hungry monkey (it was bound to happen sooner or later). One helpful Indian fellow offered a suggestion: "Big monkey coming! Run!!"
- A four-foot snake just outside our bungalow door.
- Being caught in a Candid Camera-style India TV show in Hampi bazaar.
- Deciding to "ford the river" when the usual "ferry" (a leaky motorboat not fit even for fishing) was not running. The water's only knee-deep. Unless you fall. A couple of times.

While we had planned to spend two weeks here, this is turning out to be the kind of place that one passes through. And so we will do so, and move on for the coast, eventually heading south.

Probably.

Farewell to Mysore

We are winding down here in southern Karnataka. Mysore has been good to us; the yoga has been even better. After another adventure at the Railway Booking office, where Evan showed a burgeoning talent in the distinctly Indian style of "queing" - that is, leaning, elbowing, and otherwise maneuvering oneself to the front of the line, we are set to ride the rails to Bangalore on Monday afternoon and then on to Hampi Monday overnight. We had intended to stay longer at the shala, but several things have come together - including the news that Sharath will be at a conference in Hong Kong for the next two weeks - that have made this a fine time to move on.


It is comfortable and easy here, as the path of the Western yoga pilgrim is well-worn. At the same time, there is a sense of informality and anonymity, as the shala and Gokulum as a whole see so many come and go. Soon enough we will be gone in a puff of incense, and others will come to replace us, slugging down chai, devouring coconuts, and wondering what exactly it means when someone wobbles their head. There is a sense of being swallowed, as it does not matter how big or small a fish you are, it's just such a mighty big pond.

We'll have early practice Sunday (4:45 am) and will once more have that joy of being carried, still crusty eyed and half-asleep, by the sound of a hundred people chanting (does that make one hundred Oms or just one?) just before the sun. Doubt you can hear it from the states, but surely you can feel it.

We've continued to explore the city, sometimes out of necessity sometimes for fun. We're even starting to get a sense of where things are - that is, whether or not the rickshaw price quoted to us is a rip off or not. When in doubt, assume it's a rip-off and pretend you're going to walk away. He'll come down. Oh yes, he will. That's what the head wobble means, I think. Doesn't it?



We've had a few Guruji sightings these past few weeks. Guruji is, of course, Pattabhi Jois, the big cheese of Ashtanga Yoga. He was in Florida when we arrived in May and has been hard to find for most of our time here. It is known that he has not been well. Plus he's 95 years young, though we're still sure he begins his day with a third or fourth series practice, just to get the blood going. Anyway, he's been making some appearances, sometimes watching the practice from the small office just off the shala's main space. Last week he joined everyone for the conference, which is a weekly Q & A session between shala students and teachers. Pin-drop silence and goosebumps as he shuffled across to the stage. Can't help but wonder where this practice and shala are headed...

Be sure to check out some new photos, etc. on the Photobucket account, including a rare glimpse of Evan demonstrating the classic South Indian head wobble.

Ok?

Rice, or Eating Cheap in Mysore

Plain rice
Ghee rice
Paneer rice
Cheese rice
Garlic rice
Onion rice
Garlic and onion rice
Potato rice
Herb rice
Herb rice w/ paneer
Herb rice w/ ghee
Herb rice w/ garlic and onion
Tomato rice
Tomato rice w/ onion
Tomato rice w/ onion and ghee
Tomato rice w/ paneer
Curd rice
Mango rice
Mango banana rice
Mango curd rice
Potato rice
Carrot rice
Carrot and radish rice
Fried rice
Vegetable fried rice
Stuck pot rice
Dahl rice
Sambar rice

Quotastic

"Nah, he's too busy stretching his body for God."

- snippet of yoga conversation overheard in Mysore

Extracurriculars

So, at the latest, everybody's done w/ the shala by 8:30. You've got your post-yoga buzz going, you go home and gorge on tropical fruit, maybe out for a nap and it's not even noon. What's a yogi to do?


This is Jeshee. He's something of a resident philosopher/pandit/smart dude in town. We heard about him by word of mouth and have started dropping by for the talks and Q & A sessions he holds four days a week at his house. He's currently talking his way through the Yoga Sutras. He and his wife have started a very small organization w/ the aim of passing along yogic teaching, Sanskrit, chanting, etc. It is supported by free will donation. The quality of these talks is really remarkable. We sit on the floor, usually with less than ten other students, in this dingy library surrounded by bookshelves stacked two-deep. Jeshee is that wonderful combination of authentic Indian charm - head wobble, wry humor - and beautiful, eloquent English. The man can also really drop some knowledge. Though we are usually talking ancient wisdom, he's always throwing in modern physics, medicine, etc. It really is a treasure to head out and just listen.

And not a single vinyasa.


On the other end of the extracurricular activity spectrum is the quintessential yoga bum pastime: hanging out at the coconut stand. Look at these sorry saps. They're not even having coconuts!!

Just taking up space, waiting for it to be time to eat or sleep or something. This is why we need lead class twice a week. Mysore yogis are the type that need very clear instruction, otherwise they just drift. Sad, really. Notice that at least Kelly has found something better to do: she's documenting the tragedy.

Speaking of Kelly, she loves a good autorickshaw ride. You hop in, say the word, and watch the world speed by in a blur of cows, near-accidents, and odd stares. It seems to be clear that we are "not from around here." Note: "autorickshaws" are most known just as "rickshaws" although actually rickshaws pulled by people don't seem to exist here. A business opportunity perhaps?? Rather than "rickshaw," you can even say "rick," if you're schedule is too busy for full words and complete sentences. Many of the yogis here rent scooters or motorcycles for transportation, but we feel that it takes a special kind of crazy to take to these streets. Small town life has left us a little wary, and so instead we hop into a rickshaw a few times a week, get dropped of somewhere in the city and, sooner or later, become lost. Not capital "l" Lost, like the show, but just regular old dumb American lost. It really is an art when you take the time to perfect it. It's great to know that at any given time you can give up, flag down another rickshaw, say "Gokulum" and get home. Otherwise we might spend all of our time at Coconut Corner.

Hey look - it's Kelly again. Another option for free time is cooking. There are many enterprising Mysore-ians willing to teach any old yogi with enough rupees and some free time how to make this crazy food. So far, one of our favorites is dosa, which is like a savory crepe. They eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner here and we thought: "Teach a man to point to dosa on the menu, feed him for one night. Teach a man to make dosa, feed him for life." So we gave it a try and seem to have had some success. It was a bit like attending a private taping of the newest Food Network show: "Indian Kitchen". We watched and participated, but mostly just ate. And ate. And still there was food, so we continued to eat. We have declared it "over-dosa," the symptoms of which are sluggishness, irritability, bloating, and inability to jumpback. We are certain that Sharath has the cure, though it may be worse than the disease.

Finally in our tour of extracurriculars, we have these fine gentlemen. There is construction all over Gokulum, which involves large piles of sand, cement, and gravel in front of houses. We'd guess that these fellas are construction workers and decided to take a break but, then again, it's also possible they were just walking by and decided to take a load off. Perhaps too many dosas. We tried not to be offended when they left after we snuggled up between them.

Outing Day

Saturday's are for taking rest.
There is no practice, or much of anything going on for yogi's this day and so Saturdays have been declared Outing Days. Today, we visited Chamundi Hill, a spot just a couple of km out of Mysore. After a fabulous lunch of Ginger Aloo and Palar Paratha, we caught a rickshaw to visit the well known temple atop the hill. Pilgrims are supposed to climb the 1,000 steps to the top, however, upon looking us up and down, our rickshaw driver must have decided that wasn't for us. Due to some communication issues, we were have way up the hill before successfully communicated we intended to walk up, but alas, it was too late. The ride up was wonerful, circling up and up the sides of Chamundi Hill. The view of Mysore and beyond below, becomming more and more beautiful, with each chug of the tiny auto.

We arrived at the top before the temple was open so we had a bit of time to spend checking out the view from all angles and watching the locals at work/play.

The temple itself is quite amazing. Such detail on the sides, it takes a bit of time to really see the scope of what you are looking at.

We began walking around the temple base and realized that people actually live up there. This young boy pushed his cart up on side of a long ramp up to a building and then lifted his feet and balanced his weight so that he could ride down the other side. When Evan asked if he could take a picture, there as another kid there, but this one pushed him out of the way to have his time in the lime light. Every kid there asked us if we would like to buy a "gold pen" or "flashlight" at least once. We came home with no new gold pens or flashlights.

We also sat for some time and watched a pickup game of cricket. We have no idea how this game is played, something like baseball I guess. When there was a good hit, one of the players turned around with his arms up to indicated to us "that was a good one". We gave him a big thumbs up.

Further around the temple was a group of monkeys playing wildly in a tree. We thought a video would capute the activity better than pictures. The monkeys and the people shared the steps (and more) at the back of the temple. One monkey, creeping close to a small family, quickly swiped something silver (a bracelet?) from them and bounded into a tree. Everone laughed quite a lot and several people tried unsuccessfully to retrieve the stolen item. Nearby, another monkey burst open a bag of puffed rice and started chowing down.

Finally, the temple was open and after removing our shoes and finding the proper flower garland offering, we went inside. Here to, the action was confusing to us as crowds of people, stood in front of differnet shrines, took sacred water and gave over their offerings. Everyone was kept far back form the main shrine, but some of the sacred men spotted us and took our offering up for us. It was facinating to see the often subtle, rituals performed by people as they went through. As for us, we were watching in wonder, but for nearly everyone else, it was their prayer, and a special one at that.

We have learned in India, when asking for directions, we usually get a verbal response we don't understand and some pointing in a general direction. This requires that along the way, you keep asking "stairs?" (even making the motion of walking down stairs with your fingers) every twenty feet or so. I'm sure we look like fools, but we found the stairs.

Just a ways down, there was an outcropping of rocks with the most beautiful view of Mysore, the clouded sky and beyond. The air was wonderful to breathe and the view was even better. It's difficult to describe such a thing.

One third of the way down, we stopped to check out the stone carved Bull. Another sacred spot full of flower gardlands and ritual.

Finally, with wobbly legs, we made our way to the bottom and took a rickshaw back home. Evan gets extra points though for climbing all the way back up in handstand. Check out the photobucket site for more pictures. Most of the new ones are from this outing, some are more random.

Ah, coffee. It's the soma of the modern age, isn't it? Every dingy, open front cafe or "tea stall" is selling buckets of coffee and chai all day every day. You'll always be able to spot some poor cook in the back, sweating over three big pots: strong coffee, strong tea, hot milk. Ask for either coffee or chai and you'll get what I have here - a couple fingers of either tea or coffee, and then the rest milk. It's always boiling hot and sweet. With some practice, the accomplished yoga bum can make it last a good half hour. Pair it with an Indian sweet from one of the sweet shops and you've got yourself a productive afternoon.

We're really settling in here in Gokulum. It's very folksy - as you're walking around the neighborhood you recognize the tailor, the kid from the cafe, the jackfruit guy, etc. It's hopping all morning, then slows down during the hot afternoon and really gets rolling again after sunset. We tend to savor our errands, spacing them throughout the day so we can have an excuse to make the five-minute walk three or four times a day and see what's what. We're slightly up on a hill, so we have a nice view of the main street as we turn the corner from our flat.

The yoga just gets better and better. We're acclimating well and have been surprised at how quickly the body responds to this daily practice. When you do the same sequence every day, you really get a feel for its rhythm and start to polish it up - smoother, stronger, less hurried - wringing out every last bit of that yoga nectar we all know and love.

We see people come and go, new arrivals all the time. It never seems to be overcrowded, at least not yet. We've heard that June is set to be a busy month, but we'll have to see. It's a distinctly shakti crowd; that is, about 75% female. I'd estimate the average age in the early 30's, though there are some older people as well. They are often the ones working on the more advanced stuff, as it takes years of practice to get to that level. Or, at least, to be officially sanctioned by Sharath to work at that level.

There are other shalas around, so we see some yogis (they're easy to spot) that don't come to the shala that we're at, and some that do. They hang out at "Coconut Corner" - the most popular coconut stand - or Anu's, the Internet cafe of choice for the visiting yogi.

If you've looked through the photos, you've seen that we visited Devraja market, which has apparently been around for centuries. It is dizzying in its size and variety. It simply goes on and on and on. We picked up a few vegetables, but otherwise just walked and looked. We're getting better at deflecting the endless calls to look at this or buy that. It can be difficult to window shop in India.

There's always a nice little scene outside of the shala after practice, beginning around 6:30 am, or so. The coconut guy does very well. You can see his little truck on the left, and that big gray building on the right is the shala. It's almost mandatory after practice to have a coconut. First, the guy uses a machete to lop off the top and gives you a straw to drink the water/juice. Then he hacks it in half a fashions a scoop from a piece of the husk so you can eat the coconut "meat." It's the perfect after practice snack. You can also buy fresh baked goods or garlands of jasmine or roses.

We've got a few more weeks here in Mysore, and then we'll have to make a move. We had planned to stay here for six weeks, but it may be that you can only do one month blocks at the shala, in which case we'll have a decision to make. At other times, in other places, this would have been a great opportunity to worry and weigh pros and cons. Here, however, it's easy enough to let it ride.

Wouldn't want anything to spoil this lovely cup of coffee...