Final Day (18) - Yoga Studies Tour 2014

“A traveller doesn’t know where he's going, and a tourist doesn’t know where he's been.”

After 18 days of being a traveller, I’m back home and it’s time to be a tourist, to think about where I’ve been.

 

 

Maybe the first way to look at this is to consider the number of miles I have travelled in the last 18 days - nearly 17,500 by my reckoning (analysis available on request).

That’s 4 planes from 3 airports, 3 trains from 5 railway stations, 18 minibus journeys, 6 pseudo-suicidal tuk tuk rides, 4 car journeys, and 2 boat trips - not counting the elephant ride and the many miles I must have walked.

 

 

Another view would be to look at the trip from the yoga viewpoint - after all, it was a Yoga Studies Tour . . . . . and I had nearly 40 hours of yoga learning experiences:

• 13 hours in pranayama/asana classes - 3 at Krishnamacharya Yoga Mandiram in Chennai, 5 in the Conference Room at the Ideal River Resort Thanjavur, and 5 hours in ‘public’ yoga classes in Cochin and Kovalam Beach
• 9 hours in philosophy classes or discussion groups - 3 at Chennai, 6 at Thanjavur
• 7 hours in meditation classes - 3 at Chennai, 4 at Thanjavur
• 4.5hours in Vedic chanting classes - 3 at Chennai, 1.5 at Thanjavur
• 5 personal pranayama/asana sessions in my hotel room or around the pool

 

 

I couldn’t have done this without 8 great teachers:

• Chennai: Sri Sridharan, Sunita Nair, Shobana, and Padmini
• Thanjavur: Wendy
• Cochin: Manoj
• Kovalam: Raju and Venu Gopa

I am truly honoured to get the chance to benefit from their extensive knowledge and experience and only hope I can do them justice - thank you everyone!

Yet another view would be the accommodation on the trip - always having a comfortable base to return to made a huge difference so here’s a thank you to the 5 rooms in 4 hotels, the 4 swimming pools, 3 wet rooms, and the hundreds of staff that made them run so smoothly.

 

You may have noticed that food was an important part of the trip - according to my notes I either ate or sampled:

• 40 curry dishes
• 20 starters
• 12 mocktails
• 10 aloo masalas
• 7 dosas
• 6 naan breads
• 5 vadas
• 5 poori
• 3 chapati
• 3 samosas
• 3 omelettes
• 2 paratha
• 2 peanut masalas
• 2 gulab jamon
• 1 vegetable biriani
• 1 mullet
• 1 red snapper
• 1 bhatura
• 1 roti
• 1 picnic on a train

I couldn’t actually count the chillis in all these meals and it might be best if I don’t . . . . .

 

 

And in case you were wondering, I weighed myself when I got home - I lost 4 lbs whilst away!

I think the diet suits me (plus the sunshine, and the yoga, and the walking, and the 2 Ayurvedic body massages).

A cultural view of the holiday might be expressed by the visits to 3 temples, a museum, and a royal library and archive, and possibly the purchase of 7 chanting CDs and 14 books (and the 5 books I read), plus 5 blessings received from priests.
 

 

 

It would also be wrong to ignore the following experiences which all made a huge contribution:

• Friendships made with 17 people - getting to know my 16 fellow travellers plus myself via the avatar that was the Keith that appeared for this trip, who may be unrecognisable to people used to the ’normal’ me. I hope he stays in there with me in the months to come.
• Conversations littered with laughter and positivity
• Interaction with too many local people to mention, with special recognition for the South Indian entrepreneurs of the retail persuasion - if I didn’t always get best price I reckon I always received good value!
• Brief encounters with too many insects and mosquitos to count but thanks guys, every single one of you left your mark . . . . . .
• Memories of maybe 40 elephants - festival elephants, rescue elephants, plus Gobalan, the she-elephant I will recall whenever I do a walking meditation
• Skype conversations with the UK and Australia, many of which were of the Type/Skype variety
• A stunning performance of Kathakali dancing

Not forgetting . . . . .

• 1 blister
• 1 pair of flip flops purchased
• 1 cut toe after tripping over said flip flops
• 1 bad case of flip flop toe
• 4 plasters
• 1 pair of bloodstained flip flops discarded
• Several rants about aforementioned item of footwear

Or . . . . .

• 1 haircut
• 1 cut throat shave
• 1 face massage

Not to mention . . . . .

• One encounter with an uncooperative hammock.

 

I must say a big thank you to my Panasonic Lumix compact digital camera (or to be strictly accurate, Angela’s Panasonic Lumix compact digital camera) which enabled me to take approx.1,600 photos without fault or falter.

 

I should also remember some of the phrases that cropped up time and time again. They made sense at the time even if they won’t in a few week’s time:

• Check the Chill (Lynne & Linda)
• Show Me The Label (Keith, with acknowledgement to Paul)
• PanTan, short for Panic Tanning (Gail, with acknowledgement to her Dad)
• MICE - Meetings, Incentives, Conventions & Exhibitions (Gail & Helen with acknowledgement to the Chief Steward on our first Sri Lankan Airways flight)
• All’s Fair in Love & Tuk Tuks (Anonymous, for obvious reasons)

And finally, the phrase of the trip has to be ‘Same Same But Different’ which seems to explain the paradox and contradictions in the tiny slice of India we experienced, or so it seems to me as a naive and idealistic first-time visitor.

The phrase sums up how India seems to be comfortable with ambiguity, never providing one answer (or God) when several will do. Whatever happens next is generally the right answer, so let go of your expectations and go with the flow.

The poor living cheek by jowl with the rich?

Same Same But Different.

A dedication to the commercial act of selling anything and everything to make a rupee or two, alongside a spiritual approach to life?

Same Same But Different.

Trying to explain to a customer, who does not share his language, that two types of nut bar on his shelf are very similar (both are nuts, but one has a spicier coating) the shopkeeper says ‘Same Same But Different’.

Beggars allegedly deliberately mutilated so they can get more money, juxtaposed with the joy and exuberance of people in the street (and countryside) who just want to practice their English, or take your photo for you?

Same Same But Different

The ugliness of a rubbish dump in a Chennai street, with several species trying to scratch a living from the same source - people, cats, cows, crows, dogs - and the beauty in that scene, each prakriti-ridden soul doing what it must to survive, giving to another what it cannot use, taking re-cycling to it’s radical limit?

Same Same But Different

So that’s it from me . . .the blog will revert to its previous purpose now, as a repository for my flash fiction and it would be great to hear from you about any of my previous or future posts any time you feel like it.

I’ll leave you with a picture of some of my postcards, tastefully displayed in my home office:
 

 

Namaste!