Reflections on one month in Mysore

Namaste All,
This is how time goes for me here: days go so fast, yet add up to more than a week, so a month's accumulation of fast moving days feels somehow like two months. Somehow the days are more full with so much yoga. Four weeks of the eight week TTC done and more sun salutations than I care to count under my belt has left me feeling deeply accomplished, exhausted, sore, and determined. I celebrate little victories: a 3 minute headstand, a foot going behind my head that never went there before, sitting without moving anything for 25 minutes- any little moment can be cause for a victory dance. I'm human, and I get tired and irritated, but somewhere inside I enjoy facing challenges here.
A month in, much of Indian life has normalized. I don't gawk at cows in the street anymore, although a horse galloping through town the other day raised an eyebrow. I don't get cheated by rickshaw drivers any more, and when I pay too much for something I do it with a charitable awareness. After all, what is ten rupies to me (25 cents)? I can order at resturaunts and have a good idea of what I'll get, I know to look for a good pallak paneer (spinach and cheese), and watch out for green chillis. Sweet lasi are yummy; masala lasi are lousy.
I appreciate everyone who has written me emails and posted comments. When you write me there is happiness in my heart and the lonely moments I have fade away with your words. Keep writing please!
And may Ganesh be the remover of all your obsticles, Om shanti Om.
On to the pictures...


In front of almost every gate of every house of Mysore, a chalk mandala is there. Some are bigger and more impressive than others. I could guess that they offer protection for people leaving home going into the world, but I don't really know and haven't asked Rani my landlady. The interesting thing is how you almost never see anyone drawing them; one morning there is simply a new mandala like the mandala fairy has left it there.


Bharath demonstrates "jala neti." He's pouring warm saltwater through one nostril and out the other. Next it's our turn.


Actually, I found this quite pleasant- not at all like getting pool water up your nose like I feared it might be. It's for clearing out your nasal cavity, and it works similarly to nasal spray I think.


Now Bharath is demonstrating "sutra neti." "Sutra" in this context means catheter. Can you guess what we're supposed to do with that little cord?


Peymon was the first to successfully complete sutra neti by inserting the cord up his nostril, up his nasal cavity, down his throat, and through his mouth. Then you do a flossing action, if you don't gag first. Did I do this? I sure tried, and I got the cord about 5 inches up my right nostril and into my throat, but not out my mouth... maybe next time?


Gokulam, the "suburb" of Mysore I stay in, is mostly very upper class, but there is a poor area accross the river running through town. The river smells like poop, by the way; I think it's actually the sewer not the river. I took a walk through this small scale slum to see what I could see...



Beauty has many forms. I could not decide which picture of this pair to post, I love them both...


Curious girls...


I was admiring the light, thinking what a classic picture this was, until my camera was spotted and suddenly...


...I was swarmed by about 20 kids. It was novel and exciting at first, having all these children yelling around me ("photo! photo!")...


...but after ten minutes of being followed, tugged, grabbed, and led I was pretty frustrated. I couldn't take any more pictures with my tag-a-long mob of kids because as soon as I aimed, they'd rush in front. It took some doing, some evasive dodging, to escape them. Whew.


All around Gokulam you see this tall orange temple on a hill, and you wonder, what is that? I'd been told it was a college, and one weekend morning I decided to take a walk towards it to see what I could see. Indeed it was a college, a place of religious study, and I was warmly welcomed there. It was a very quiet place, and a man studying for 7 years to become a monk gave me breakfast and coffee and talked to me about the place. He made sure I knew their message was one of tolerance; he told me about their Christmas celebration singing carols, reading the New Testament, and worshiping a shrine of Jesus Christ. I was never asked my religion.


The college grounds were beautiful. There were bright flowers everywhere, and for a minute I imagined I was back in Mom's garden.


There were flowers carefully placed on every shrine.


People who knew me at Sage Walk will understand the significance of this spectacular lotus blossom for me (at Sage Walk, my earth name was Blue Ridge Lotus). Other's can just appreciate it's bright magnificence. Lotus blossoms are a symbol of enlightenment. Cool.


This was one of the strangest flowers I've ever seen. The middle part looked like it belonged on a coral reef, like a sea anenome or something. So wierd, so cool.


This is an Enfield Bullet 350 CC, the national motorcycle of India. I can't help but romanticise what it would be like to tour India by motorcycle with the wind in my face, mountains ahead, and a free path to destiny.