The Unlikely Yogi

Every morning it’s 6 am meditation with BrahmDev, the Swami who heads up the AuroValley ashram where we’re staying. This morning, about 10 minutes in, we heard a loud noise and then an even louder eruption of barking dogs. “Was that an elephant!?!” Since the Swami left to check things out, we took our cue and followed. From the roof of our residence we saw a big guy with enormous tusks stroll through the field below, give himself a dust bath and meander toward some nearby houses. The field is also home to a haram of deer that apparently belong to another big guy with antlers. There are also wild boars running around and squawking parrots everywhere. Tomorrow we go to another ashram for a week. The one we’re in now is supposed to be the ‘luxury’ version and tomorrow we’re at the ‘basic’. This may be my last post for awhile.

No meat, alcohol, or caffeine for 2 weeks at the ashrams.   I can put up with anything for 2 weeks.  When Deb and I get to Rishikesh for our 10 days of post-ashram life, we'll do it all!  I'm on my 4th day of a coffee-free life and enduring the fatigue, headaches and crustiness that goes with that.     It was rather disheartening to just recently learn that Rishikesh is a dry, vegetarian city. In my past travel life, anything weird and other-worldly that landed on my plate seemed to center around the local protein sources. I'm afraid that 47 different kinds of lentils are going to seem a little boring for the photo blog.

The Skechers in the back of my car had started out as real shoes, but were now gardening shoes at best.  What colour is the dust in Rishikesh?   The shoes are a dirty taupe, and since they're already two-thirds of the way to the throw-away pile, I'm thinking I could wear them and then ditch them after the trip. A month in India, 3 different ashrams and an adventure that I've sidled up to since a friend suggested I attend an information session given by her yoga instructor. India's never been on my list of places to see before I die - too much poverty, pollution, noise and sensory overload.  So what was I doing? The closest I'd been to India was Nepal, more specifically, the Royal Chetwan National Park in Nepal.  The Park was wilderness filled with rhinos, elephants, water buffalo and a lodge that passed for luxury on the border with India.  Kathmandu was a different story - people, cars, pollution, heat, noise, cows and street kids trying to piece together so