Sanka Praksalana and Prateek

Just when I (and probably you) thought things couldn't get any stranger, well, guess what, they do. This past Sunday, I performed my very own, doctor-less, hospital-less, cost-less, machinery-less intestinal cleanse (or colonic irrigation). Yup. You read that right. I cleaned my intestines. This is one of the yogic kriyas (cleansing practices) called Sanka Praksalana (pronounced shanka prakshalana). I could stop there, but I presume you'd like a few details. Be warned, the details ain't pretty. So I won't give too many. At its simplest, the description could be: drink 5 liters of salted water and let it come out while sitting on the toilet (#2). You are probably still curious. Process: get your materials ready the night before, prepare yourself mentally when you wake up, warm your 5 liter gallon of water, put in 5 spoonfulls of natural rock salt (if it's not salted, you will pee out the water, and if it's too salted, you will vomit it), shake it up, do a short meditation or consecration, and begin. 1) Drink one glass (1cup minimum) of the liquid, perform a set of 4 prescribed movements, drink another glass, repeat the movements, and so on, until you feel the need to go to the bathroom (again, #2). This can take as little as 4 glasses, but it took me 10. The first trip to toilet marks the crossing of a psychological barrier you may have, and everything is smoother and easier from then on. The first bowel movement cleanses your intestines of most the solid matter that, over time, has lined the walls of your intestines. As Angela (my teacher) said, you wipe after you poo, but why don't we worry about wiping the inside? It's even more important than wiping the outside. If you look carefully (which I didn't) you may find small objects like rings or buttons that were swallowed years ago and just got stuck and covered over time. Let me tell you that with the brief peek I took, I can say I am extremely glad that what was in the bowl is no longer lining my intestines! After your first bowel movement, you continue the process of drinking and movements, but may have to go quite quickly before even doing the movements. What comes out gradually become thinner and clearer, until it's nothing but the crystal-clear water you are ingesting. (I didn't get to that point my first time. I still have some cleansing to do.) Ok, so much for not sharing too many details. Hope you're not having breakfast while reading this! The whole process can take anywhere between 1 and 6 hours, with 4-6 liters of water. I did it in 2 and a half, with 5 liters. But like I said, I still wasn't completely done. But come on, I did pretty darn good! And I'm the only one in the class who went through with it and succeeded. Most others bailed, and only one other girl attempted, but over-salted her water and puked. Once you throw up, the process cannot be continued. And speaking of puke, Angela said if we really wanted to go all out and do the whole thing, we should end with vamana dhauti (the daily water puke I do), as this cleans your stomach and stops the sanka process. So I ended with that. Do I get a student of the week certificate or what??? When all is done, you lie down and relax for half an hours, then, very important, between 30 and 60 min after finishing, you must eat a large plate of white rice with at least 40grams of ghee (like butter). Mineral water can slowly be sipped at this point. Then the rest of the day is supposed to be very calm. There you have it. (More info on Sanka at http://theyogadr.com/shanka-prakshalana/)
But so much for the fully calm day... At 4pm, our teachers asked us to meet for Karma Yoga, a very nice way of saying "Clean and scrub the yoga hall". We shook out and scrubbed all the yoga mats, shook out the blankets, swept and hand-washed the large floor of the hall, wrote dates on publicity posters for Trika, made new posters, and finally, Ananta went around the clean room with a specifically made small fire to purify the air. Since I had done sanka, they took it easy on me, and after some shaking and scrubbing, I was put on poster duty. It was actually a lovely two hours, with good company and good music :)
To continue on the topic of strange, I'll tell you  a bit about Prateek. I ended the last post saying that I was on my way to see Prateek, the astrologer. That was the Saturday before my Sanka Sunday. Interesting weekend to say the least. So, Prateek. I've always been quite a skeptic when it comes to astrology, but boy did Prateek ever change that! We sat on the floor, he had his laptop in front of him, asked my name, birthday, birth time, looked at his chart of planetary movement, jotted down a few things on a paper, and proceeded to tell me about my life. Accurately. And not just this life, but also my past life (another thing I've had no choice but to believe in with what I've learned in the last two weeks). The planet charts help him tell me about general periods of ups and downs in my life, based on which planets I'm being influenced by. As for the smaller details, it seems that astrologers have a deep psychological ability to "read" people and pick up on extremely subtle cues to get their information. It was shocking, fascinating and exciting to hear everything he had to say. I'm sure I'll be back to see him again next week.
Forgot to mention we had our second bhajans (mantra chanting I wrote about previously) last Friday. This time, there was a new instrument I had never seen before called a Hang Drum. It looks like small flying saucer or very large wok (http://www.hang-music.com/hang.php) and produces one of the most exquisite sounds I've ever heard. We will now have Bhajans every Friday evening. 
Time to get ready for my evening class.
Namaste.

Books 'n' Buckets

Must. Stop. Buying. Books.
The quaint little bookshops in town are like a candy shop for me! They are filled with the most interesting, varied, inspiring, mind-blowing reads I've ever come across. Indigo schmindigo! But... I keep buying them and not opening them. My days are so packed and pass by so quickly it's just crazy. And my brain is being packed to densely with info from my Trika course and my Hindi lessons, that I don't think there's room left for books at the moment. I'll save them for my lazy beach days in the south a couple months from now. So, my backpack will be very heavy, but I'm sure it will all be worth it when I finally crack the covers.
Now, buckets. Well, actually, bucket. 
Bucket part one: I've finally mastered the art of showering. Here's the process: turn water tank switch to 'on'. Wait 5-10 minutes. Turn shower on (yes, the hot water actually comes out from the shower head at this guesthouse!), thoroughly wet hair and body with warm water, and let the water fall into the bucket (bathrooms all come equipped with a large bucket). Turn the taps off as water starts to cool. Shiver as I shampoo and soap. Turn the shower back on, rinse soap and shampoo with the new batch of heated water, let more water fall into the bucket. Turn the taps off when hot water runs out. Do final rinse with bucket water. Sounds more complicated than it really is, once you've become a pro. This sounds like what many people already do back home (as far as closing the taps between wet and rinse), but the difference is that with the cool weather here and no heating, it's quite cold when the taps are off. 
Bucket part two: Vamana dhauti. Look it up. It's my daily morning stomach water cleanse. In a nutshell, you crouch down "en petit bonhomme", chug a liter of warmed water, stand up, jump around and push your stomach in and out to shake the water around, then bend over at a 90 degree angle and vomit the water. I've been doing it everyday for a week, and have the whole process done in under 3 minutes. Like for the shower, becoming quite a pro. I vomit into the bucket, look at and analyze my puke, write a short description in my puke diary, and go on with my day. When I greet my fellow yogis in the morning, there's no, "Good morning, how are you?", but rather, "Hi! How was your puke this morning? Was it more Kapha, Pitta or Vatta?" (Whether it's more mucus-like or bile-like or bubble-like will determine which of the three doshas - again, look them up - are predominant.) 
Bucket part three: After being gone for 2 weeks, I have finally done laundry. Yes, done. Not had done. My bucket is about 10 liters I'd say, and I couldn't fit all my clothes in it in one shot (I change my clothes about once a week, so I don't know how I accumulated so much!). So I had three "loads". Heated my water tank, filled my bucket, put in some soap, and put in some clothes. Moved them around as much as I could, using my hand and forearm as a spinner. After a few minutes, gave each piece a good scrub, took the clothes out one piece at a time, rinsed each one under cold water, wrung them out as much as I could, and hung each piece on the balcony. Load two: empty filthy water and repeat all steps. Load three: no time, took so long for the first two that I had to run off to yoga. When I came back hours later that night, hanging clothes were still wet, and some had flown down onto a lower story of the guesthouse. When I observed the hanging pieces, I noticed that all that effort produced nothing more than very mediocre results (not to mention the backache... difficult to maintain good posture while leaning over a bucket to wash, rinse, and strain clothing). Unlike showering and vamana dhauti, not a pro. Sigh. Ok, next time, laundry service. But I have to say, I'm very happy to have done my laundry by hand at least once in my life. I will now bow in reverence to the washing machine every time I fill it with clothes!
So, that's the story of my friend, the bucket. It helps me shower, receives my puke every morning without complaint, and cradles the filth of my dirty laundry. Don't know what I'd do without it.   
Time to walk over to Laxmanjula, for my first meeting with Prateek, the astrologer!

Correction

Just a detail... aparigraha is one of the yamas, not the niyamas. Oops. Lots of info in the past 2 weeks... trying to keep my facts straight :)
If interested in these, check out a brief outline: http://www.bradpriddy.com/yoga/yamani.htm

Shanti Mai

First, happy Republic Day to all Indians!

Next, Shanti Mai. I went to my second satsang (gathering of people to listen to a guru) on Tuesday, the 24th. My first, with Prem Baba, was on the Sunday, and I needed a couple days to recover emotionally. Shanti Mai is an American, easier to relate to, and seemingly more down to earth. Well, relatively. Again, we were in a large sunny room, with a few less people than at Prem Baba (a little under a hundred, I'd say). The process was similar: seated chanting, rise when she enters, second chant with her, listen to her speak, chant to close the gathering, rise as she leaves. She is a beautiful, lively, animated woman, 61 years of age, who speaks mostly about the immense potential that exists within each and every one of us. It was of course a very inspirational, motivational and empowering talk. Less heavy than Prem Baba's. But again, "coincidentally", she spoke about things that really hit home for me. People like her and Prem Baba have the incredible ability to read multiple (or even all) the energies present in the room, and everyone, at one point, will feel that the speaker is addressing them personally. Early in her talk, she spoke about what an incredible opportunity it is to have one's ashes put into the Ganges. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have some of my beautiful grand-maman's ashes with me here in India. She had asked that her ashes be spread in oceans around the world, because of how much she loved water. While I will certainly respect this wish, I now also feel a strong desire to put some of her ashes into the magical Ganga (which, of course, flows into the ocean). Later in her talk, Shanti Mai spoke about the loss of one's mother. While my emotions had been under control during most of the lecture, they broke free at this point. Tears began to flow quite strongly as she explained that we never really lose the people we lose. A couple days earlier, my mother's dear friend, Joanne, sent me this reminder in an e-mail: "I don't think you'll have to look far to find Joy--she's right inside you!" With Shanti Mai and Joanne in mind, I have been able to sense my mother's presence within me more strongly than ever before. Thank you Joanne, thank you Shanti Mai. (http://mindbook.ws/profile/ShantiMai?xg_source=activity)
Last night, the daily Trika lecture was on Karma Yoga. Oufff! What a topic. It would take much too long to address it properly in this post, but I greatly look forward to discussing it in depth with those I will see when I return to Canada. A little anecdote in relation to it... Almost every day since my arrival in Rishikesh, I've walked into "downtown" to use internet. On my way, I always encountered a hunchbacked, skinny-legged, cane-holding beggar who would point at, and sometimes lightly grab onto, a wooly, orange, Tibetan shawl I bought on my second or third day here to keep warm. I've had it wrapped around me almost constantly every day. This man was different from some of the other beggars. He would smile as he approached, rather than act sternly or aggressively. After a few days of walking past him, returning the smile, but shaking my head as I continued on my way, I thought, "If I understand this man's actions correctly, and he really does want or need a shawl, maybe I should lead him to the stall where I bought mine, ask him what color he likes (by pointing, of course, because  of the language barrier - which I'm slowly working on) and buy him one." Then, a day or two later, a lecture at Trika was given on one of the niyamas: aparigraha (non-attachment). So I started thinking about why I wanted to buy the man a new blanket instead of simply giving him the one I had. Well, because I really liked the one I had chosen; it had been on me for a week straight, it was part of my experience here, and, I was attached to it. Last night was the lecture on Karma Yoga, and today, having the aparigraha and karma  lectures in mind, as I was on my way to town for internet and saw the man, as I knew I would, he walked towards me, smiled, pointed at and touched my shawl, and this time, with love and compassion, I handed the shawl to him. His smile widened into an ear-to-ear grin, his eyes became blurry, and he reached up and rested his hand on my shoulder. Wow, what an incredible and indescribable sensation. Then I put my hand on his shoulder, smiled warmly, and walked on.
I decided to share this story today, not because I want praise or recognition for my action, but because I want to encourage all those who are reading this blog to perform one random act of kindness today. It doesn't matter what it is, how big or how small, just something. And try, if you can, to do it not because I'm asking you to or because it will give you gratification, but simply because you feel in your heart that it is the right thing to do. Wait for the right moment, you will know when it's time...
With that, I will head back out into the streets to see the parades and festivities in celebration of India's constitution and independence :)
I would like to end with something that Cindy (my wonderful yoga teacher for the past three years) would often end the class by sharing with us, and which I think fits beautifully with what Shanti Mai had to say:
I honor the place in you where the entire universe dwells; I honor the place in you which is of love, and light, and truth, and peace; and when you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, we are all one.       

Prem Baba

Just back from my second class with Swati (weekends off, I meet with her Monday to Friday at 11am for an hour or two). Brought a couple recruits with me today, giving her business :)
But let me go back to the - yes, again - magical day that was yesterday. I had first heard of Prem Baba from the Brazilian guy that the German and I got a moto-rickshaw ride with when we first arrived. I didn't think much more about him until fellow students in my Trika class started talking about their experiences with him. Basically, the bulk of what they said is: "You will cry." Hmmm, ok. Sunday is our day off at Trika, so to continue and expand my yogic learnings and influences, I thought it would be a good day to go hear him speak. I walked over to the other side of town (to the Laxmanjula bridge area; I am in the Ramjula bridge area) to the ashram where he was with my Belgian friend, Alice, also taking the Trika course. (Papa et Rachel, vous serez heureux de savoir qu'avec elle - et je la vois a tous les jours - je parle francais :) Et aussi avec Gabriel, de Trois-Rivieres - le premier Quebecois que je rencontre! - qui je vois de temps en temps, et qui viendra desfois au cours de Swati.) It was her second time there, and my first. We removed our shoes and walked into a large, bright, window surrounded room, with a floor covered in small cushions to seat about two to three hundred people. I sat down, got comfortable, looked around the room, and almost instantly I had a big knot in my throat. The energy was undeniable. We all stood as Prem Baba entered and walked to to his white-cushioned chair. (A bit about Prem Baba before I go on, taken from a website: "Sri Prem Baba is a spiritual master of the Sachcha Lineage and a shaman from Brazil. He works to build bridges between worlds: spirituality and psychology, east and west. He blends satsang and meditation, music and chanting. Prem Baba will address how to open your heart, observe yourself, integrate your shadow and connect with the divine. He offers a practical form of psycho-spiritual work called “The Path of the Heart” that will allow you to go beyond fear and ego to love and compassion." So, the session began with a little presentation/offering by a group of about 8 children (because, "coincidentally", the first day I decide to attend, the focus is on the crucial importance of childhood education). They spoke, acted, sang, danced, played music. When one boy played Fur Elise (a piece my grandmother used to love and play and taught me on the piano), tears began to swell up in my eyes. After the presentation, the regular session began, with the live instruments and chants. Within seconds, tears were streaming down my face. As the sounds got louder and more powerful, I began to sob like never before. I couldn't control it and didn't know why it was happening. I had never heard anything so beautiful. As the intensity of the music lowered again, my sobs were a little more under control. After quietly scanning the room for a minute or two (reading the energies of those in attendance), Prem Baba began to talk. He spoke for about an hour on education and related topics. I was very interested, but could hardly keep my eyes open due to the drain from the intense surge of emotions that preceded. After the talk, it was time for the closing chants. I figured that since I now knew what to expect, I would be able to control my emotions, appreciate the music, and even participate in the chanting. But again, the moment the music and voices filled the room, tears filled my eyes. And as the intensity increased, I cried like I've never cried before. (And I wasn't alone. The room was filled with sniffles, from men and women of all ages.) Ouf... wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. (On the walk home, Alice told me she was unable to stay for the whole session her first time, as it was just too much.) I was relieved to see that, after the second set of chants, it was almost over. As the musicians kept playing, some people lined up to approach Prem Baba, say or ask something, and receive his blessing. When all those who wished to had been seen and heard by Prem Baba, we all stood as he exited, then sat back down for a 5 minute meditation before leaving. Wow. Wow. Wow. I was speechless as I walked out. I'm getting choked up just writing about it. 
Curious about what had just taken place, I discussed it with friends and yoga teachers later that day. The explanation is that Prem Baba works deeply with energies, and that as you sit in his presence, hear the chants and hear him speak, your blocked chakras (energy centers in the body) begin to open up and all the negative emotions that have been stuck in them begin to be released. Hence the intense crying.
I moved, thought and walked very slowly that afternoon (and those who know me well know that I walk like my arse is on fire!). I was in a very calm and serene state. I walked, observed, reflected, and then wrote a very important e-mail to a very important person.
Just when I thought the day couldn't get any more magical, we had our special evening at Trika. Earlier in the week, we had planned an evening of sacred mantra chants at Trika on Sunday. Those who were interested (it was optional since Sunday is our day off, but of course, I wanted to go) were to meet in our yoga hall at 6pm. I had dinner with some great friends I've made from class, and we walked over together. It was a first for all of us. We entered the dark hall to see cushions placed in a circle around a formation of red sheets and blankets, with flowers and a small stone statue in the center, and a circle of white burning candles between our seats and the center formation (and then they pulled out a string of red Christmas lights and placed them in a circle in the middle to add to the festivity!) Julian, from our class, was there with his girlfriend(?) Tanya, each with a guitar and ready to lead the mantra chanting. (We were about 12, some from class, some not.) Besides the two guitars, there were a few other smaller instruments laid out, which we were free to take and play when we felt it was right. Julian and Tanya (European, not sure from where) are a regular chanting duo (I'll send a youtube link of them when I find it), and we are so lucky to have Julian in our class, as this evening would not have been the same without them. Tanya has a stunning voice, and as we all joined our voices and instruments, the feeling was simply indescribable. Each chant began at a slow pace and low volume, gradually increasing to the point where we smiled and "danced" as we sat and sang. Then the intensity diminished, and at the end of each chant, we sat and absorbed the beautiful sensation created by each one.
A stunning, spectacular day yet again.
Shanti. Shanti. Shanti. 

Lovely Swati

As you may have guessed, life continues bring new joys every day here in Rishikesh.
Whoa! I didn't blog yesterday! Lots to say...
Let's start with the title, Lovely Swati. I was in a stationary shop picking out a new notebook (for my many, many, class notes) and some beautiful hand-made cards. Got to chatting with the owner (Amit), told him I was interested in learning Hindi (thank you Meera for getting me off to a good start before I left!) and asked him if he had any recommendations. Turns out his wife used to teach foreigners, but that there hasn't been much demand lately. He told me to stop by after evening yoga, and that he'd talk to her in the meantime. When I went back that evening, he hopped on his motorbike to go pick her up, as she was walking home from work. They both arrived a few minutes later, Swati said she would be pleased to teach me, and we made an appointment for 11 the next day. I went to Amit's store around ten to 11, and he walked me to their home (a couple minutes away) and Swati offered me tea and noodle crisps to bring up to their rooftop where I had my first lesson in the sun. She is beautiful, kind, spunky, and those two first hours on the roof, were, I'm certain, the beginning of a wonderful friendship. Swati is about my age, married with a 4-year-old boy. The three story modest home houses the three of them, plus Amit's brother and parents. They are a tight-knit family who always look out for each other. I learned an immeasurable amount in those two hours, not only about the Hindi language, but also about plenty of cultural questions I've had since arriving in Rishikesh. Amit works at the stationary shop all day, and Swati teaches in the evening (5:30-7:30) at the only English school (well, class) in this area. It was founded by Truike, a woman from Amsterdam who lives and works in New York. It opened last summer, and Truike hired Swati (one-year contract) to teach there while she went back to New York. She will return this July and August, when has time off. The school is called Children of Ganges (www.childrenoftheganges.com - Truike is the blond, Swati is the one in the beautiful red sari) and is a free school for street children. Swati invited me to come to the school, but I will only be able to go when my course ends, as the times are in conflict.
Next topic, toilets and showers. I've finally readjusted to bucket-flush toilets (like in Thailand), but had my first bucket shower the other day (at my previous guesthouse). There was a shower head and two waist level running taps below it. Hot water only comes out of the tap, and since the weather is cold, I was not interested in only cold water from the showerhead. So I filled the two large red buckets (the showers are never in baths here, with water just coming down onto the bathroom floor) with warm water, and proceeded to bathe in a new and interesting way. I was delighted when I found out that my new guesthouse has hot water that comes from the showerhead, but I'm going have to learn to take very quick and efficient showers: the hot water (which I have to turn on a switch to heat 10 minutes before showering), runs out after about 3 minutes. I wasn't ready for this the first time, so when the water went cold and I still had shampoo in my hair, I turned the tap off, crouched down, hugged my shivering body, and waited 5 minutes as the water reheated little, then quickly rinsed with the two minutes of warm water the wait provided. I'll get the hang of it soon enough. As I was crouched down, my eyes were level with... a toilet flush handle! It hadn't even occurred to me to check if there was one, as the bucket flush toilets (with paper in the wastebins since the buckets don't provide enough pressure to flush it down) are so common here. Ah, the small joys of life! Another small joy: as I was settling in for my first sleep at Sudesh, I noticed there were no blankets on the bed, only sheets. Discouraged, I stared intently at my sleeping bag, trying to send it some warmth energy for my night's sleep (kidding, kidding!). Just then, there was a knock at my door (around 10:30pm), and when I opened it, Raj (the guesthouse boy) was standing there with two thick blankets, offering them to me and wishing me goodnight.
This morning, at yoga, Ananta removed his shirt to visually demonstrate an abdomen suction exercise we were learning today. Wawaweewaa! Healthy inside and out ;)  Last night, we had our regular practice and lecture, followed by a Friday night movie in the yoga hall :) Movie was "What Dreams May Come", a beautiful, albeit glamorized, exploration of life after death. Actually, Angela said they had picked up the wrong movie, and that the planned one was much less Hollywoodized. Very pleasant night nonetheless. I won't go into too much detail about the lecture Angela gave before the movie, because many of you will think this is totally nuts, but long story short, my morning routine might soon consist of the following: rinsing out my nasal passages with a netti pot, scrapping my tongue with a stainless steel horse-shoe-shaped utensil (not bad so far, both things I was already doing at home), rinsing out my eyes by holding a small cup of water upside down over each one, drinking my urine, washing my face with my urine, and finally, here's the kicker (you thought the kicker was the urine drinking huh?) chugging a liter of warm water while squatting down, then quickly standing up, jumping around a bit to shake the water, then bending forward at a 90 degree angle, sticking two fingers down my throat, and bringing the water back up and out of my body. Yup. And Angela says the whole package can be done in under 7 minutes once you get really good at it! (Caution, do not try this on your own without understanding the exact whys and hows. It is very important to do the vomiting part on an empty stomach, as doing it with food - as we are more familiar with - can be dangerous and damage the digestive system.) This technique is used as an internal cleanse of mucus and toxic accumulation. Oh, and I will also be fasting once a week, on Fridays.
Well, I've gotten through about a third the items I had on my list for this post, but I've been sitting here long enough. The rest tomorrow.
Shanti, shanti, shanti.       

Entering the astral sphere...

Am I ever happy I'm not in Rajastan right now! Thank you to my Delhi hostel receptionist for convincing me not to go through with it. Life in Rishikesh continues to get more wonderful every day. But it has its little kinks, of course. Here are a few things you should know about my little town. First of all, it pretty much shuts down at 8pm. I was the last one in the internet shop last night writing my blog after yoga. I walked home in the dark (my new guesthouse is in a quainter, quieter, darker part of town) and I didn't have my headlamp with me (thanks Chrystal for another great purchase suggestion the day before I left!). I couldn't see the road very well, and was paranoid I'd step in one of the many huge piles of cow dung that grace the streets. Yup, that's the biggest of my worries these days! Another thing about Rishikesh is that because it's a holy town, there is not a drop of alcohol. Not on the menus, not in the shops. So the evenings are calm and quiet, no chance of running into obnoxious drunkards. Also, at any given moment of the day, if you look around you you are sure to spot at least one monkey, cow, cat and dog within meters. Even the animals are calm and peaceful here. And oh, the smells... all sorts of good, all sorts of bad, but somehow, when all mixed together, they seem lovely: street vendors with their chai (tea), roasting peanuts, popping corn, chapati (flatbread) cooking; incense burning; animal poop fuming; smokey fires burning; spices cooking; outhouses, well, stinking. And not just outhouse bathrooms... the one in my guesthouse room generously spreads its odors throughout the room when door and windows are closed. I try to air out the room as much as possible during the day, but at night temperatures fall to almost freezing, so I have to close up. By morning, the stench is pretty intense. But besides that, I'm thrilled with Sudesh, my new guesthouse. The room is plain but I've made it cozy; there is a large yoga hall on the fifth floor (I'm on the third), and a fabulous, open rooftop on the 7th. I went up there this afternoon to catch a few seconds of sun when it came through the grey sky, but the wind made it too cold to stay. There is also a communal kitchen, so I can make my own tea and food (though the cafes are so delicious and cheap that I'm sure I'll mostly eat out). Another great yoga session this morning. A new teacher started it off, the handsome dread-locked Kristof from (?), giving theory on the sublimation of energy (transferring energy from one to chakra to another in order to create balance and harmony between them). Fascinating once again. Then angelic Angela took over for the asana (posture) portion of the class. During the final relaxation, I felt a very strong sensation in my body that is difficult to express, but I'll try. We are laying down on our backs, legs outstretched, arms resting alongside our body. Imagine that my body is a pencil and that you hold it in the middle with your thumb and index and make small, quick movements with your fingers... the line remains straight but shifts in small movements from side to side, clockwise and counterclockwise. Then, it begins spinning in almost full circles. The body feels light and disconnected from the ground. (Hmmm, the sensation actually felt less strange than this description. Actually, it's not the first time I've felt this. I've had this sensation many times while just laying in bed, but never thought much about it nor questioned why it was happening. Or questioned it maybe, but didn't seek an answer or explanation. This time, however, the sensation was significantly stronger than it had ever been, and it was almost difficult to come out of it when it was time to stretch and sit up. When I did, I felt dizzy and nauseous). So I stayed after class to talk to Angela about it, and her eyes widened as she slowly said, "Woooww". She explained to me that it was a sign of me fully letting go of my physical body and entering the astral sphere. Yikes! Where will I be in a month? She gave me recommendations for how to shift my focus to prevent the nausea I was feeling; I thanked her and went on with my day. Which was lunch at Oasis cafe, just a few steps from my guesthouse. Had my first dahl soup (delicious mixture of brown and yellow lentils with coriander) and chapati. It's just about time for today's evening session. More fascinating yogic adventures to come!     

Bliss, bliss, bliss... living in Rishikesh

Never thought I'd update my blog every day, but can you imagine how long the posts would be if I only wrote once a week?! Just back from day two of my yoga course, and I feel completely invigorated. Grey gloomy day today, but the radiance I feel within is shining, providing me with light and warmth. Oh wow. I realize how cooky that must sound... That's what happens in Rishikesh, you are instantly transformed by its magic. It's unreal how different and enriched I feel after only two days here. And I continue to sound crazy. Ok, back to yesterday...
A bit more about my classes. The beautiful, kind, warm, glowing Spaniard, Angela, taught the morning class from 8-10. Half an hour of theory, half an hour of routine warm-ups to awaken each chakra, half an hour of routine asanas (postures), ending with the asana of the day (we learn a new one everyday, theory and practice), and half an hour of relaxation. Then, from 4-6, Polish Ananta taught us, with his deep, monotonous, hypnotic voice and long red hair and beard. Half an hour of the same routine warm-ups, half an hour of surya namaskar (sun salutations), including chanting the 12 names of the suns, half an hour of the same routine asanas and re-doing the one of the day, and ending with half an hour of music meditation (loud, classical orchestra music errupting from crackling speakers around the hall, creating energy and vibrations) and final relaxation. Ananta and Angela are both dressed in flowing white clothes from head (shoulders) to toe, with their long hair loosely cascading down their back. Wow, I'm making them out to sound like deities! Maybe they are... Then came humorous, energetic American Laura's lecture on satya (truth) from 7-8. What an incredible day! And a month more of them to come! I have learned so much already, and not just mind junk (as is often the case at school), but fascinating, life-changing knowledge and understanding. Two days, people! Two days! And my life is taking a new course. There is magic in the air. I kid you not.
And I'm pleased to announce that I almost slept through the night last night. Fell asleep quickly shortly before 10, woke up a moment so brief that I didn't even check the time, and the next wake-up was at 5:20. I was so happy that I didn't even try falling back asleep. 7 hours beats what I've been getting until now. Morning bathroom trip was another success... bowel movements still wonderful. Better than ever, in fact! My stomach is taking very well to Indian cuisine. Lots of masala chai (spice tea), lots of veggies, and very little sugar. Read my chakra book from 6-7, then headed off for my second morning yoga session. Ananta taught both morning and evening today, then Angela gave a fascinating lecture on healing strategies in yoga. Wait till I get home and tell you about the powers of urine therapy!
On that, I will head back to my new home (Sudesh guesthouse, near my yoga), for what will probably be my best sleep yet. Comfy mattress and non-gigantic pillow (albeit very strange).
Good night. Namaste. 

Rishikesh - Land of Yoga... Heaven

I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love! Rishikesh is a little slice of heaven, everything I wanted and more! I've been walking around with a permanent wide grin for two days... people must think I'm a little loca ; )  I'm excited to annouce that I'll be calling this home for the next month, in order to take a 4-week yoga certification course at Trika Agama in Swarg Ashram. (Thank you Marco and JessD for the great reference! Guess who my first teacher was this morning? Angela! She gave me a big hug when I told her the two of you sent me there : ) She is wonderful, emmanating inner and outer beauty.) I will be doing 4 hours of yoga every day for 4 weeks (Sundays off). From 8-10 we learn the new asana of the day, theory and practice. 10-4 is free, then 4-6 we do sun salutations, followed by a lecture from 6-7. Absolute bliss! Today is the first warm and sunny day since I've arrived :) Long sleeves and pants still required, but only one layer of them! If I had to describe my clothing style for the last few days, it would be: mormon in the north pole with a touch of Mountain Equipment Coop! Vogue would be appalled! (Thanks JessW for making me check the weather before I left, and thanks Chrystal for being a great assistant shopper to gear me up at the last minute!) You should have seen the bundle of clothes, hat, shawl, I was wrapped in this morning, walking to yoga at 7:30! Just a couple days in this little community, and already I'm beginning to know the locals, who waved and called good morning as I walked to yoga, down the road, over the hanging bridge, and up the hill.
Ok... now that I've shared my excitement, time to backtrack to continue the story from previous post... So the German (can't remember his name) and I managed to find the bus station, and after asking a few people and being pointed in different directions, found the bus that was heading to Rishikesh. Ancient, rickety bus. Piled our luggage, packed in as many people as possible, and off we went, our pink turbaned driver speeding along like a maniac. When I was walking down the streets of Delhi, my feet were often inches from quickly rolling wheels, but now our bus was centimeter - centimeters! - from oncoming traffic. And I chose the wrong side to sit on! I started the journey with my arm resting partly out of the open window, but soon realized I should keep it well inside if I wished to keep it intact! Again, a few prayers for survival were made, and listened to. The good part of this ride: caught my first glimpse of the emerald green waters of the Ganga river. The German and I met a Brazilian guy on the bus, also heading to Rishikesh, so when we got to the bus terminus (half hour ride), the three of us negotiated the price for an auto-rickshaw ride to the yoga part of town. About 15 minutes later, the driver stopped at the top of the hill and said the vehicles could go no further. He told us to walk about 5 minutes down the road and cross the hanging bridge when we got to it. We reluctantly got out (it was raining and our bags weighed a ton), and walked 20 minutes to the bridge. There were vehicles the whole way. Thanks Mr. Driver. It was a steep hil down, and we figured he didn't want to waste gas coming back up it. Crossed the bridge into yoga land, and walked another half hour towards our hostels. Not sure where we were headed, we stopped for a short break, put our bags down, and got shelter from the persisting rain. A long-white-haired foreign man, who had obviously become a local, was standing nearby, so we asked him where the hostel was that were looking for. In an Australian accent, he told us we still had a ways to go. A little discouraged, we continued chatting with him. He has been living here for 11 years! And I can now understand why! His niece, about my age, was with him, visiting from Perth for a few months. They were heading in the direction of our hostel, so we all set out together, luckily being guided through a shortcut by a resident :) We finally got to our hostel a half hour later, but were not thrilled with it, so kept looking. We stopped for another break, this time sitting down for tea and food. As we ate, another long-white-bearded resident foreigner asked if we were here to do yoga. We said yes and chatted with him for a bit. He is from California and has his own ashram there, for which he gave me the card and told me to stop by if ever I was down there. He also recommended a good place to stay, since we were still homeless, and that's where we headed. By the time we finished eating, the rain had let up, and we happily walked to Om Kara Guesthouse, got our rooms, then went for another masala chai tea before settling in after an exhausting walk (made worse by my blistered heels... little canvas shoes not good for long, rainy, backpack walk). Fell asleep quickly that night, but still not adjusted to new time. Have yet to sleep through the night, always waking up around 3am and unable to fall back asleep. Still sleeping with scarf, socks, hoodie, leggings, eye-mask, earplugs, sleeping bag, blanket. I'm sure I'll miss it terribly a couple months from now when the heat will be unbearable. The nice thing about waking up here in the middle of the night is that I hear bells and chanting rather than the Delhi honking and yelling. After many wake ups that night, I finally awoke to the sun coming up over the mountains, and walked onto my balcony to take it all in. Ran a few errands throughout the day, enjoying my backpackless stroll through town :) It rained on and off all day, and by evening the unpaved streets were a mess. The bottom of my skirt and my flip-flop-clad feet were splashed with mud and cow-dung. Lovely. Stopped for dinner, then went to Agama for yoga info, and back to my room for a foot rinse. And another attempt at a full night's sleep. Unsuccessful. Woke at three, convinced it was time to get up for yoga, discouraged when I looked at the clock. Slept on and off till 4, then got up, went to the bathroom, wrote in my journal, and tried to sleep until yoga time. No luck. Lay in bed awake until 6:30, then listened to lively music on my ipod till get-up time at 7. Figured I needed a little pep since I had hardly slept. I now have an alarm clock, so I can't blame my internal clock for the wake-ups. Maybe it has to do with the beds... wood plank covered in a 2-inch thick, hard, futon-like mattress, and huge, hard useless pillows again. Someday soon I will sleep. If not, I may become very strange.
Met some great people at my yoga class this morning, about 8 of us in the class, more or less my age, from Canada, US, and Europe. Went into my first little bookstore after class, to get info on Chakras, which our teacher referred to a lot. Bookstore was heaven, and I walked out with more than a Chakra book... and I'll surely be back for more! My free afternoons all month will be filled with strolls around town and yoga reading, reading, reading :)
Since I haven't posted any pics yet, here are a few websites for visuals:
My first hostel in Paharganj (Delhi) (about $9):  http://www.hotelrakinternational.com/  Looks great in the photos, but it's the surrounding streets and neighbourhood that left a lot to be desired.
My first guesthouse in Rishikesh (the Californian's suggestion, about $7): http://www.omkarananda-ashram.org/gita_sadan.htm
My yoga school : http://trika.agamayoga.com/
Moving to a new guesthouse tomorrow, to be closer to my yoga school.
PS. Cindy - As I walk around town, I constantly hear familiar music coming from the shops, thanks to your CD library you so kindly shared with me :)
PPS. Claude - J'ai reussi a traverser les douannes avec ton sac de "dope" sans me faire mettre en prison :)  Est-ce que j'en met dans la riviere du Gange ou seulement les oceans?
(Translation: Grand-maman's ashes that she wanted to have spread in oceans around the world. Yes, I got through customs with a large ziploc bag filled with grey powder, which my uncle thought it would be amusing to label as "dope". And I felt no need to rename it. A little risky in retrospect.)
Time for my 4 o'clock yoga session, excited to see what's next!

Delhi Part 3

After a short room break, I headed back out into the street to find a resto for my first real meal since the plane. Feet constantly inches away from vehicle wheels, glad my toes are still intact. Settled on a German bakery (they're everwhere) that had a great rooftop terasse. Had my staple Indian dish, palaak paneer (spinach and cheese). They make it a little different here than in Canada: the spinach is pureed and looks terribly unappetizing yet tastes wonderful. Have been exhausted all afternoon... still not adjusted to the time change. I wake up around 2 or 3 am and can't go back to sleep, then have heavy eyes during the day. Back at hostel, tried having my first shower, but it turned into a quick rinse... the hot water advertised was a few seconds of warm followed by cold. That, or I wasn't working the water heater properly. Very possible. While on the topic of bathrooms, thank you Mandi for the toilet seat covers you put in my stocking last Christmas... who would have thought they'd come in so handy a year later and halfway across the world! Was in bed at 8:30, hoping for a good rest before waking up at 5:30 to catch my train to Haridwar (closest train stop to Rishikesh). No luck... fell asleep quickly but woke up at 9:30 (thinking it was time to get up!), managed to fall back asleep, then woke up again at 11:00, tossed and turned till12:30am, and decided to get up when sleep wouldn't come. Loud child and adult voices outside, earplugs not very effective. Fell back asleep around 2am, then woke about every hour until finally getting up around quarter past 5. The incessant wake-ups were my internal body clock was looking out for me: I was nervous about getting up on time for my train. I had asked reception the night before if I could get a wake-up call, but he said not to rely on them 100%. I figured that meant probably no, and my phone battery was almost dead (alarm clock). Phone alarm did go off at 5:45, no wake-up call.
Headed out around 6am to catch my 6:50 train. Pleasant early morning walk down the dark street. Calm, quiet, dream-like. Thought the crazy intersection would would be less crazy at this hour, but I though wrong. Still had to pray for survival as I crossed. Put my bags through security scanner at the station, and finally figured out the direction to platform 16, the furthest one. This place is enormous; it was quite a trek just to get to where my train was. I made it and the long train was there waiting. Now, where do I get on, where do I sit? I asked someone who didn't seem to understand, but pointed further down the way. I noticed that very long lists of names were printed and posted outside each entrance. So I start frantically speeding from one to the next, quickly scanning the lists looking for my name. This would take forever, I thought. The train would surely leave before I found my name. A railway worker noticed me and asked for my seat number. I looked at him, puzzled. He asked to see my ticket, showed me the number of my entrance and the number of my seat, both pretty clearly indicated. Way to go, Erika. I guess it was a little too early for me to be smart. I was seated with 10 minutes to spare. (My hostel receptionist encouraged me to get a good class of ticket - not luxury, but not too crowded and no animals - so I would be comfortable and unbothered on the train. It was $9 for a 4-hour ride including drinks and food. Sure, why not.) Magazines and newspapers were distributed as soon as we took off, followed by a bottle of water, a tray of snacks and a jug of chai tea. Daylight was just appearing as we pulled out of the dark station. Pretty grey and hazy outside, and it takes only minutes before the heart-wrenching sights begin. Small children rummaging through piles of trash along the tracks; homeless people warming up by the fires beside their tents under the roof of abandoned railway stations; tall brick and clay crumbling blocks, home to so many; men squatting with thier pants down, taking their morning dump amidst the trash. Meanwhile, my lunch arrives with a second jug of tea. (And as for my dumps, so far so good: no Delhi belly!) It was almost the scheduled time of arrival in Haridwar, but station names hadn't been announced at stops along the way, so I was hoping I'd get off at the right place. There were two western-looking men on the train: one was asleep, the other reached for his bag as we approached the biggest station since we had left, which I assumed was Haridwar. I asked him, and he confirmed that it was. He was a German who had been to India 20 years ago, and was just starting his second trip here. He was also on his way to Rishikesh, so we headed toward the bus station together.
Next blog post: Rishikesh, land of yoga!   

Delhi Part 2 (written from Rishikesh)

Just started pouring rain outside, perfect time to settle in for another lengthy post... So much more to say after only a day! I'll try to condense my journal a bit for the blog - it's already 18 single-spaced pages! So... I left off last time after my first morning walk through Paharganj. It was relatively calm that early in the day, but when I left the internet cafe, the street was had become much more lively and packed. Yet somehow the "friendly Tibetan man" bumped into me again. He continued chatting and suggested I go to the tourist bureau for maps and information since I had just arrived. I thought, "ok", and he walked me there. Sat down with on of the workers there, telling him I was hoping to head up to Rishikesh tomorrow, asking for the best travel plan to get there. He told me it was very cold in the north right now, so why not go to Rajastan for a couple weeks until the weather warms up. I figured this was a reasonable suggestion, and we began developing an itinerary. Over and hour and a few negotiations later, I settled on one that was about $200 a week for two weeks (including transportation, lodging, and a camel safari in Jaisalmer). I had decided to leave all my documents and cards in my room that morning, so when it came time to pay, I told him I had to go back to my hostel. I was a little disoriented after being led through winding roads by the Tibetan, so the bureau agent sent "his guy" to lead me back to my hostel. When I got there, the very kind hostel receptionist asked how I was doing, so I told him about my morning. He shook his head and said "No, no, no." He had tried explaining to me yesterday that the best way to organize travel was to go to the foreigner office at the train station down the road, and that anyone else would try ripping you off and get big commissions. He explained this in more detail as my "escort" watched from outside the hostel. My gut told me that the receptionist was more trustworthy than the tourist agent, and decided to change my plans. Now I had to go out and tell my escort (who had been shooed away by the receptionist) that I was bailing. Wasn't sure how it would go over. As I tried to explain the situation to him, who shows up? The friendly Tibetan! He asks how the tourist bureau went, and I tell him I'll do my planning on my own. While the escort looked annoyed, the tibetan just went on smiling and continued to try to convince me that the tourist bureau was the best and safest option and that listening to my hostel receptionist would lead to danger. I thanked him for his suggestion and walked away. He left me alone after that, but I was looking over my shoulder all afternoon, hoping the bureau agent the escort wouldn't angrily come after me for cancelling on the Rajastan deal.
Went back to my room to take a breather and de-stress from the city walk, then went down to reception to get details about the bus station foreigner office. With good info, I headed back out. Street filled with people, vendors, beggars, stray dogs and cats and... an elephant strolling down street causing a little congestion! Casually walked past it as if it was the most normal of circumstances. Then came time to cross a big boulevard to get to the train station. Large intersection, no stops, no traffic lights, no one to direct traffic. I wondered if I'd make it to the station. I just stood there for a moment, watching how people crossed. Didn't learn much besides the fact that you just had to say a small prayer then walk into oncoming traffic from all directions (criss-crossing cars, trucks, rickshaws, bicycles, cows, buses) and zig-zag your way to the other side. I figured my best bet was go stand very close behind a local and blindly follow him as he ventured across. It worked. I survived. And I'd have to do it all over again on my way back. My heart is beating fast just writing about it! Ok, so I made it across the station, but now I had to find this foreigner office on the first floor of this gigantic place. I see stairs to right and head to a gate leading to them, but I am stopped by someone asking to see my ticket. I tell him that's what I'm here to get, and that I'd like to go to the foreigner office. He says I can't buy tickets ahead of time at the station (can only buy for today) and that I have to go somewhere down the road, where the foreigner office has moved to. And I have to go there quickly because today is Saturday and they close early. I tell him again I need to go to the 1st floor of the train station, but he shows me his "official government ID card" and insists that the office had moved to the 1st floor of this other building down the road. I detect another scam (learning form this morning), and decide to walk back to my hostel to ask at reception whether they are certain the office is still at the train station. He assures me that it is, and that the man who stopped me was one of many, many, many professional scammers. He says, "You are strong girl, you can get passed them. Take staircase on left." So again, I walk down the road, pray before successfully crossing the chaotic intersection for the third time, and find the correct staircase to walk up. Hallellujah! There's the foreigner office. Took me a while to figure out where to line-up (sixty or so people seated, no arrows, no take a number). Asked someone, got in line, sat down. When I looked back up, a Swiss couple I met at the Delhi airport was lining up behind me. Glad to have familiar faces to chat with while waiting :) They said it had also been quite a process for them to get here. About half an hour later, my ticket to Rishikesh was booked for 6:50am the next day.
Back in my room for another breather, I giggled to myself at the craziness of my day.
(I'm not doing a very good job of condensing my journal. Been writing for an hour and haven't even reached yesterday... weather clearing up outside, will post part two of this entry a little later.)     

Delhi!!!

Here comes the first long one...
Where to start... Ok, how about with now... just went for my first walk in Paharganj along Main Bazaar road (backpacker district I'm staying in for a few nights). Left hostel around 8am, walked up and down the road for a half hour, chatted with a friendly man from Nepal, and found an internet cafe. Cheap cheap! Only 30rs (less than a dollar) for an hour. Ok, time to backtrack since last post...
Second flight went smoothly, though not quite as pleasant as the first. I think it gave me my first taste of India... smelled like a lack of deodorant, and passengers were, well, interesting. Had a window seat this time with a rather dull neighbor to my left (missed my previous plane buddy!) As I was about to settle into my seat, I noticed a bare protruding foot from the seat behind which was propped on my arm rest. Hmmm. The man who belonged to the foot was often rude to the flight attendent, who was evidently getting a little annoyed. He went on to drink a few whiskeys, then burped and sneezed loudly, kicked the back of my chair a few times, and finally snored loudly and went to sleep for the remainder of the flight. Great on-flight meal again: palaak paneer (my favorite) with masala curry vegetables.
I was overcome with excitement as the first Delhi lights appeared below, and got through baggage claim and customs pretty quickly before finding my airport pickup at the exit door (THANK YOU JessD for convincing me to get one! I would have been quite stressed without it!) But the stress appeared anyway... Scraggly driver in a very sketchy tiny car, only half a seatbelt (belt part but no clip... saw the driver just pull his belt around his body, so I did the same), soon realized there were no headlights (4am, dark), and that several other vehicles were also mere lightless shadows on the road. It was only about 7 degrees celcius and my window was slightly open, so I reached for the handle to close it, but it just turned loosely without affecting the window! I wasn't really surprised, but giggled to myself. Driver was kind and pointed out a few landmarks along the way, but when he wasn't focused on them, he looked like he was about to fall asleep (I could see his eyes in the rearview mirror, and every time he blinked, I was afraid they wouldn't re-open!) Pretty terrified we would crash, but he managed to stay awake a get me safely to my hostel. When the car stopped, I was sure there had been a mistake. This could not be where I was staying. It was the most grimy, run-down, garbage-filled, animal-swarmed road I had ever seen. But there it was, the sign for my hostel. So I gave the driver his baksheesh (tip) and he brought my bag to the front door, then used his car key to knock loudly on the glass door, through which I could see the 2 receptionists sleeping under blankets on the floor. After a few key bangs, they reluctantly got up and let me in.
Decent room, heavy blanket on the bed (good thing, because I was pretty frozen). Didn't do much before getting ready for bed, pretty exhausted. Slept in leggings, socks, hoodie, wrapped in sleeping bag and covered in heavy blanket, which I pulled over my head for heat, but also for blocking the bit of light and sound. Comfy mattress, but useless pillows. Huge, hard bricks.
Took me at least an hour to fall asleep depite my exhaustion. Went to bed around 5am, so everyone else outside was slowly beggining the day. Construction sounds, loud talking, incessant honking, and what sounded like cow bells that rang for what seemed like an hour. Somehow, I finally managed to fall asleep. When I woke up, I could tell (through my closed blinds) that it wasn't very light out. I checked the time: 6pm! I slept all day! I lay in bed half an hour just listening to the sounds of Delhi before mustering enough coutage to even look outside. When I finally peered through window, it looked slightly better than it did in the dark last night. But still a dump. Sat on my bed staring out the window for half an hour, taking in the sights and sounds (smells actually not bad so far). Saw a near scooter crash with a toddler sitting at the front. But everything looks like a near crash on these roads. Circulation is absolute chaos, but they always seem to get where they want to go safely.
(A monk just sat down at the computer next to me and is checking his facebook!!)
After my window peering, I mustered up enough courage to leave my room and go down to reception for a few questions. But went no further. It was dark already and I decided to munch on leftover plane food for dinner (granola bar, 2 crackers, cheese, and a godiva chocolate for dessert). After dinner, I passed time by re-organizing my very quickly and poorly bags. Much better now, much more room, and much more logic! Wrote in my journal, took my first pictures inside my room, watched some Hindi and English shows on my little cable TV, and ended the night with yoga at 11pm. Glad I brought my mat and yoga music on my ipod! Bed around midnight, after having been up for only 6 hours, but tired enough to sleep (same pj get-up as last night, plus eye-mask and earplugs courtesy of Qatar airways). Again, took about an hour to fall asleep. When I woke up it was still dark, checked time, 3am, wide awake. Hmmm. Tried falling back asleep, but couldn't. Body clock still a little off. So I sat up, read, watched tv (Liv, saw commercial for Indian Survivor!). Under the blanket, but cold hands. Must buy mits. Anxiously waited for sunlight, which finally appeared around 7am. Snapped my first few outdoor shots from my room window, observed the sights below again, then got ready for my first walk outside. Brushed up on a few basic Hindi words, checked the Paharganj map, had a Lindt chocolate for breakfast, and here I am, after my first 20 minute walk. Everyone very kind so far, friendly hellos and not too pushy. Though I did get spit on a few times (not intentionally, but people spit non-stop and you'll just walk into the liquid's trajectory if not careful! Dodged a few vehicles by mere inches; good thing they honk!
Ok, time for a real breakfast now!     

Success! x

Got it after the second attempt :) But did have to start over. x Off to wait for second and final flight! x
I could try to explain why there are random 'x's at the end of some sentences, but it would be complicated to explain clearly. Has to do with the backwards punctution... x
Next blog from India, for real this time!!! x

Qatar

Next post not from India afterall! (Free internet in Doha airport, yay!) But I can't get the blogsite in English so hopefully this will work... Trying to guess at the Arabic instructions and everything is backwards! The left arrow makes the cursor move to the right! Ok, I think I've got it under control... Landed safely after a fabulous 11 hour flight on Qatar airways, seated next to the most precious little Indian baby and his parents. I've become a bit of a nervous flyer in the past couple of years, but thanks to my tiny neighbor, my fears disappeared: he would laugh and dance during turbulence!! He did also wake my up crying at least 5 times while I tried to sleep, but was far too cute to be upset with! Only managed a few 20 minute spurts of sleep on the plane, so hopefully my hostel will be relatively comfy and quiet so that I can rest up before heading out into the hustle and bustle of Delhi. Another hour before boarding, then a quick 3 hour flight to Delhi! Hahaha, just looked for the missing scroll bar and thought I wouldn't be able to go down to the publish button for this post, but of course it was on the left! Now hopefully I can guess at which of the bottons below says 'publish'! x  

Airport

Wow! I actually made it here (Montreal airport) on time and even have a few minutes to spare to write my first blog! Backtrack a few hours... Flight scheduled for 10:15pm, papa picking me up at 7pm to drive me to the airport. Situation at 6pm: load of laundry still in the washing machine, papers and stuff spawled everywhere, and travel bags... empty! Mild panick attack. Huge thank you to Liv and Jess for helping me calm down and decide what to put in my backpack! And I don't think I forgot anything (left my camera in my room when I flew to Thailand).
Boarding in 20 minutes. Think I'll go sit and breathe for a short moment before my flight. Next post from India!!!