Today I was walking downtown by myself, on Deverajs Road eating a banana, amongst the throngs of people. When I was done, I fed the banana peel to a cow standing on the sidewalk. Me and this cow in the middle of a foreign country, alone. Clearly white in a sea of brown! I have felt quite guarded since I arrived, partly due to Damian's warnings, partly because I am in absolute culture shock. I was so concerned about getting lost, walking down a dangerous alley, or getting too familiar with strangers, that I forgot that I really am a guest in their country!
India has now become a sense of community, and I am starting to recognize the locals, say hi and feel a sense of security. Even if I did get lost, so what? Find a pay phone, flag a rickshaw or hang out? No need to worry or panic, because wherever I go, there I am! To quote Shoba, my friend from India, now Londoner, whom I went to Bangalore with yesterday- "The whole world is a beautiful if you have a good heart."
So, I caught a rickshaw, which are everywhere, and heavily decorated. Decals, fresh and plastic flowers, tassels, posters, jewels, fringes and scrolled pelmets. It is like 'Pimp My Ride'. The first week I was here, I must admit I was taken advantage of by the drivers. When I would negotiate a fare, I found out later I was paying more than by using the meter. But now, I know the routine. Familiar.
The greeting here is "Had lunch?" Its like "how are you", but they are really concerned to make sure you are ok and have enough food or money, or they would help you. The men are extraordinarily friendly with other men and hold hands, or drape their arm around each other, but in a non sexual way. A street kid will come up to us in the rickshaw at a light and tries to sell dishtowels. Then the kid may hop in on the strange drivers front seat while I'm in the backseat and take it to the next block. Maybe at a light, the driver will get out, walk across the street and take a pee on a tree. Very bizarre!
Everyone is pretty friendly and community oriented. There isn't even any road rage here despite the crazy driving! The local kids in their school uniforms treat me like a celebrity, saying "Hi-where are you from- what is your name?" Its probably all the English they know, as they giggle and wave. I tease and say 'Bob' and they stop and roll the word slowly over their tongue as though it has some glamorous magic powers. (I shouldn't joke, as one day they may name their daughter Bob! )
I am really enjoying the culture here. Monday, I went to the big 92nd birthday party for Pattahbi Jois, and since my sari wasn't ready, I still had to get a bit fancy with the Indian traditions. I bought some silver temple dancer anklets, which are said to ward off evil., and Elise surprised me with a string of jasmine to wear in my braid (see side note about garlands). In the center part of my hair, a diamond "Tika' which is customarily worn by brides but now for fashion, and a diamond 'Bindi' to guard my 'third eye' between my eyebrows. It used to be worn by wives so no other man could hypnotize them. Its funny because I would keep forgetting it was on my face, I would accidentally rub it, knock it off, put it back on. I thought it might end up on my cheek or chin. Later when I was getting undressed I found it down my shirt!
The beginning of the party was a 'Pooja', which is a prayer celebration. Men chanting, in togas sprinkled the crowd with holy water using banana leaves dipped in golden bowls. There was a bonfire in the middle of the shala and the room was filled with smoke. A pile of flowers and coconuts and gifts were in the center of the room as Gurujii sat on a throne on the stage. There was Indian music, Chinese dance and western songs. We sat on the floor, ate rice, beans, and other Indian cuisine, scooped up with our fingers from actual banana leaves as plates. Elise smiled sweetly and said "Ya gotta do it , its part of the experience!" Now, I was fitting in here, but at home this would have been quite the sight.
As much as I came here to do yoga and improve my 'fitness', I find I don't really belong with the yoga students as much either. Yoga is not my life, it is simply a part of my life that I enjoy. Here, most visitors are teachers and very advanced, having come here many times before. I am very humbled by their dedication and level of fitness. I sometimes get teased about how I pronounce things. The yoga school is called a 'Shala', and I say it like like Alabama, rather than shawl-a. Or how I don't know all the Sanskrit names for poses. I'm even told here I am a picky eater...Everything is rice and beans. I don't eat rice I say, "Its poor man's food!" Apparently there was a girl from Hawaii in January who showed up for yoga class in a bikini top and thong. Wow! Talk about doing your own thing! Sharath kicked her out and told her not to come back.
I do admit I live in a bubble. Tonight I had a great conversation with MJ and Stina about our favourite things about India. Mine was that it makes me more appreciative of home and how lucky we are. Speaking of lucky, I keep finding 1 rupee coins on the ground. I already feel rich in India due to the 37:1 exchange rate, but I find these little tokens a good luck sign. "Being rich is having money- being wealthy is having time." (Stephen Swid.) Even luckier, I also have more time on my hands here in India, not trying to fit in and doing my own thing.
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