Shala time

It's hard to keep up with posting all that I've seen, done, thought, etc in the past 8 days since arriving here to India...this place tickles the senses in every way imaginable.

After a few very welcome slow days upon arriving, I'm settling into Mysore. I've been practicing yoga asana, chanting, began sanskrit classes (after 2 previous flirtations with sanskrit in the form of classes, it's finally beginning to rub off!), loving philosophy and the interpretations and teachings of the Hatha Yoga Pradipika, enjoyed some foot massage action, and have emphatically begun harmonium lessons with a very lovely and very patient teacher who lives just around the corner from me. And these are the non-food related activities! 

I realize how busy it sounds. It is, but it's really all very manageable with the help of the Shala and it's schedule. Never have I been so 'on time', dare I say early, for so many appointments as I am here due to a sneaky little something called Shala time. Anything that's happening here (unlike much of India and frankly, the world) is happening 20 minutes earlier than the time it's called for, aka Shala time. Practice at 6:30 am? That means it starts at 6:10 am, so better be there at least 20-30 mins prior to that...you get the picture. I'm kind of digging it...that is, when I'm not forgetting about it!

Again, my experience of being in the Shala is invigorating. During morning practice, not every pose or practice is easy..in fact, most are not at all...but knowing the company you keep and having the chance to give to and take what you need from this space feels like a gift.

There are so many things to see and hear and even feel every moment...the sound of scooters (or the feel of them clipping you) as they zoom by, friendly horns honking, not so friendly horns blaring (these are less common), the sight of painted cows in celebration of the harvest, hearing the music play that appears to alert passers by of a car moving in reverse, the smell of chai, seeing rickshaws filled with school children riding to and from school, hearing the familiar and not so familiar buzz of languages spoken at every turn and my favorite thus far, the call of 'sweet madame!' as your attention and your buying power are sought after. These are the things I notice on a daily basis and am beginning to grow accustomed to and even enamored with.

Traffic is an entirely unruly phenomenon that I'm not sure how to begin to explain...and I'm positive I haven't seen the worst of it. Aside from the natural confusion that comes with everyone driving on the opposite side of the road than in the US, there do not appear to be driving lanes or very many traffic lights, and road signs are few and far between. I'm all too happy to leave the driving to the rickshaw drivers or to the brave souls on scooters while I happily oblige them as their passenger. And when it comes to navigating the streets as a pedestrian, well, my thanks to Atari and Frogger for instilling in me the skill and timing to make it at least to the center of the road!