Escape from the Ashram

Escape
My remaining days at Sivananda were blissful. My body was strong from yoga. My mind was still from constant meditation (well...ok, maybe not too constant as a flying chocolate bar seemed to invade my thoughts frequently) and my heart was full from peace and the joy of meeting so many wonderful people. Our collective glee was almost getting to be a bit much. I was waiting for us to hold hands and burst out in a Sanskrit version of "We are the World" or "Kubaya." Determined to not get any sappier than I already was I decided it was time to plot my departure and perhaps regain an once of cynicism....Happy yogi cynicism that is.

I left for a train headed to the Kerala backwaters, clueless as to what town I would get off on. I figured I would decide while aboard. 'Travel by gut' is my new way to go. As I was getting into the taxi to go to the train station, C, an ex stripper from Manchester decided to join me for a day or two. Always happy to have company, regardless of past occupations.




We ended up in Allepey, India's Venice with canals and rivers cutting through towns and lush forests. We hired a long skinny boat to cruise around, watch the backwaters village life, be mesmerized by the landscape, and see the sunset.

Over Worry--Hmm..Maybe I needed More time at the Ashram?
I again listened to the gut and decided to leave Allepey to head to Kochi-"God's won Country," a beautiful trading town with Portuguese heritage homes and spices everywhere. But as soon as I arrived at the Allepey train station from my rickshaw and got out to buy my ticket panic seized me. Where was my wallet?!! Oh now! I must have left my handbag back in the rickshaw, now driving away! I left my bags with C and darted off out to follow the rickshaw, cutting up my feet in the mad scamble out to the street. Watching my hot pursuit running in worn out flipflops, a kindly driver told me to hop aboard....and together we chased down, shouted at, and intercepted rickshaws along the train station road, looking for my lost handbag. After intercepted rickshaw #4 it dawned on me. In my attempts to consolidate my 24 or so bags, I had (perhaps) put my handbag INSIDE my large suitcase. Oh....it was very likey I did this. I had pulled an old "Heidi"...thinking I had lost something that was right beside me. How embarrasing. Hmm...I swiftly told the driver to go back to the station, my face red. Upon arrival the whole station came out to greet me. "Did you get your bag, ma'am?" "Should we file a police report for you?" "Are you okay with money?" "Why is your face beet red?" I sheepishly told them all was fine and shamefully went to retrieve my bag with the miracle handbag and wallet safely inside.

Why I love the Indians
I love the Indians. They are always so helpful and ready to make you feel at home in their country. I love the way their heads bob from side to side as they speak in their smiling tone. Their bobbing shake indicates yes (although it looks like no) which is at first confusing but in time quite pleasant. I love how they are eager to explain their culture, their country's progress, and their dreams. I love the beauty of the Indian women. No matter how poor or how dire the village they are from, they always don their gorgeous jewel toned saris that float at their feet. Their thick black hair is always worn in a long braid down their back, glistening with coconut oil. Hmmm....I look down at my stained hiking pants and sweaty Om t shirt and feel inadequate. Just the excuse I need to start shopping again! : )

Future Plans

SO in today's "travel my gut" process, I will take a ferry to go to a nearby secluded beach with some fun new travelers I met last night at a dance performance. (typical Indian love story--sister of demon falls in love with god...demon sister tempts god, god gets mad at evil women's temptations and chops off her breasts).

And tomorrow....I will leave my new friends and headed up north to the Taj Majal (meeting some other friends there) and then perhaps to Rishakesh-a spirtual town at the base of the Himalayas. But who knows...plans change as quickly as I down mango lassis. Maybe I'll end up at another Ashram. For those that actually read news besides Brittany's latest head shaving and are worried about the Japiur terrorist bombings, please rest assured I will be fine. Terrorists win if we are paralyzed by fear and halt all our plans. We can never predict a tsunami, bombing, or really rainy weather while in Austrlia, and must march on. Plus with extra security up noth it's probably the safest time to travel in india! : )