*For my sanity’s sake, please don’t give me a pep talk. Pep talks make me want to scream right now. Feel free to sympathize, send loving vibes and all that. But please don’t tell me it will all be ok. I know all of that. I just needed to get this off my chest.*
I’m sure everyone has been waiting to hear about India. I’ve been meaning to write. But I haven’t.
For a few reasons.
This is not what I had imagined. I’ve heard that for the first three weeks most people hate it. No one wants to be here. But after that they adjust.
I am praying that is true.
I wanted to write a post about coming here and how it was hot, but man was I loving the people/yoga/experience/etc.
But I can’t say that. This is not the international experience I was expecting. Or told about. This is not the interesting, eye opening and heart changing experience. Yet. I’ll let you have the yet.
I don’t like it here. I didn’t fall asleep last night until after 4:30 am. It was so hot I couldn’t. I tried for hours and hours. But I couldn’t. I’ve been sick. The can’t-keep-food-in-me kind of sick. I’ve managed to cut my finger badly, and now have to worry about infection.
The food is fine. The people are great. I am even fine and resigned to the no toilet paper and showering with a bucket. But the heat. The infernal heat is going to do me in. Mentally and physically. People don’t need birth control here. The very idea of touching another human being is abhorrent.
But my biggest disappointment has been yoga. I came expecting different. I knew it wouldn’t be the same. I knew it would be full of different. But this? This is not what I was expecting. It isn’t even something I can adjust too.
I am used to a breath fueled practice. I fell in love with yoga because it was quieting the mind. It helped meld mind and body. I breathed and stretched and sweat and learned and grew through my practice. I have been lead by amazing teachers who focused on mind, body, breath, heart and soul.
Not so here. I have tried several different styles. I have spoken with the teachers. You know what I have found? A “Fast paced” style (that was supposed to be ashtanga vinyasa) that is more like an aerobic class with a few yoga poses thrown in. Breath is hardly followed or talked about. Quieting the mind isn’t talked about. There is no order. The teacher raises his voice and disrupts any chance at peace. Savasana lasts maybe 2 minutes. I tried yoga therapy – which was simply stretching. Again, no mind-body focus. It was just stretching. I’ve talked to others who have gone to other classes here. Same experience.
I came here for this? To be hot, miserable, sick , exhausted and worried. To take classes that only frustrates me? To never touch my husband? To walk around in 115 degrees in long pants, long sleeves and a scarf? To cry at 4:00 am because I am lying in a pool of my own sweat with no hope of it getting any cooler any time soon?
I know. This is only week one. It has to get better. I’ll adjust. I will. They say you hate the first three weeks. And if that is the case than I am right on track.
I am trying to find the good. I am trying to get over whatever this is. Culture shock? Needing to adjust?
I didn’t want to write this. I wanted to tell everyone about the beautiful, wonderful trip to India. I wanted to smile and laugh with the kids and the people. I wanted
I’m tired of sweating so much that I never feel dry. I’m tired of being a spectacle as I walk down the street. I’m tired of men staring. I’m tired of not sleeping. I’m tired of worrying if the next thing I eat is going to make me sick. I’m tired of forcing myself to go to a class that I am coming to hate. I’m tired of telling everyone at home that, “I’m great. Yoga is wonderful.” Because I don’t want to drag them down and make them worry.
If I could transport myself home this instant, I would. But I can’t.
So I will meditate and breathe and hope and pray and find the silver lining and try with all my might to like it here.
I just thought I should be honest with myself. And everyone else.