The story thus far

18-09-2013

Dear friends,

Thank you for your patience with me as I bumble along with this blog. My journey thus far has been exciting and insane, but I should definitely commit to posting at least once a week, otherwise I will not be able to include everything!

We are in the middle of the third week of classes, and things have progressed. I have tried to start discussions in my class which have half worked out, but sometimes end up in tangential discussions which I still do not understand. Nevertheless, I will continue my efforts. The readings for most of the classes are interesting, but the teachers often only refer to them in passing, which can be irritating. However, I have had a couple of very fun and engaging conversations with some of my other classmates, so that certainly helps to keep me motivated.

Practical yoga classes have also started (at 6:30am on Mondays and Thursdays), and that has been interesting as well. So far what I’ve gleaned from my readings on yoga theory and my discussions with our teacher is that yoga in India is much less about the physicality of yoga and more about the mindfulness. Of course, the physical and mental efforts have to remain balanced, but I suppose I am more used to viewing yoga as a “workout,” not a time for meditation and reflection. As it starts to get cooler in Varanasi, we will move up to the roof and practice up there, which I am quite looking forward to.

We didn’t end up going to the Taj Mahal last weekend because of the train tickets. Apparently in India trains are quite popular and crowded, and therefore one must buy them significantly in advance. There are also several classes of seats that are available for purchase, some of which we were warned against. Most of the train rides tend to be fairly long (some even up to 24 hours), so they are outfitted with sleeping bunks. This Friday we are all planning to get together and buy tickets for our next completely free weekend (which is not for a while—we have field trips for classes nearly every weekend).

I definitely have to start doing research on surrounding areas, as we have a long independent travel weekend coming up, and plans need to be confirmed well ahead of the travel date. Also, my dad and Troy are planning to come visit me (!!!!), so I have to figure out the best places to take them and try to plan that out as soon as possible. Obviously the Taj Mahal is a must, but there are so many interesting things that are available (like desert camel safaris with live music and dance at night, hikes in the mountains where tigers are quite common, a city that is famous for its ghosts, and so on and so forth). I just have to figure out the right way to schedule them all and the cheapest (and safest) way to do it as well!

So far, even though I came to India concerned about safety, it hasn’t been a huge issue. Though walking on the street is always dangerous, it’s unavoidable and something that local Varanasi-goers deal with daily. People stare at me a lot and one group of Indians asked to take pictures with me, but no one has tried to kidnap or kill me (yet). People have mostly commented on my lip piercings, looking horrified when I tell them that yes, the studs go through my lip. A couple of people have also commented on my race, seeming confused when I told them I was American. I suppose they encounter mostly Caucasian visitors and tourists, but explaining that my family has lived in the U.S. for generations to shopkeepers is always slightly uncomfortable.

Actually, for the most part, we’ve been told to ignore people who specifically want our attention. Many small children greet us as we walk down the street, and while replying may seem friendly, it can also be understood as a form of encouragement and put you at risk to be pestered (and possibly pickpocketed) for a while. We are offered rickshaw rides every few steps, and shopkeepers yell out, “Madame, come look at my shop!” from every direction. I did find it amusing being called “madame” for the first few times, but I’ve decided now that I want to earn that title. Someday when I am a rich and famous _______ (fill in career), people may refer to me as Madame.

Houses tend to be dark in Varanasi (and India as a whole), which I found depressing at first. But this week I’ve attained two strings of Christmas/Diwali lights, 50 tea lights (and small clay cups to put them in), clove-scented oil, and an oil diffuser. I have also hung a tapestry near my bed. Slowly I am making it homier, which is improving my attitude towards nearly everything.

Well, this has been a long post. Before I go, I want to relate to you all something that happened yesterday. My host mother, Sarika-ji (the –ji suffix denotes admiration and respect), has a five-month-old baby boy. Now, babies in India don’t tend to wear diapers, so I am not honestly sure how their parents deal with the inevitable. However, yesterday Amy and I had a little check-in with our family and Wanda, one of our program directors, just to make sure everyone was comfortable. While we were sitting in their bedroom (which doubles as a family room with the television and air conditioner [!!!]), Sarika-ji was holding the baby up against her chest. There was a lull in the conversation when suddenly there was a huge fart (I couldn’t think of a more elegant way to say that.), and what Amy described as “curry sauce” (disgustingly accurate), shot out of the tiny baby and all over his mother. And then it happened again. All of us were cracking up, and he looked at us innocently, with a hint of confusion. Raja-ji (our host father) swept the baby into the bathroom while Sarika-ji went to clean herself up. Sometimes I think that I want to have kids, and it is times like these that make me nearly ready to take up celibacy. Well, celibate practitioners are supposed to be better at yoga anyway, and I prefer yoga to baby poop any day.

Yes, I just ended with a poop story. Sue me.

Love,

Rose