yoga

rishikesh, india

i went to my first class in college. it was less about aligning my chakras than it was to see what the combination of college girls, spandex, and intense stretching was really about. i was not disappointed. interrupting the scheduled program was the fact that i was expected to participate as well and it turned out not to be as easy as i'd visioned. this was not simply stretching; it was challenging everything from your frame to your muscles to the most obscure cells to reposition themselves. it was amazing that the human body, something we've been equipped with from the start and been able to operate with some efficacy a bit thereafter, could be positioned in ways that we never put it in the course of our lives. i mean, we have these things, our bodies, always. yoga showed me that if we can reimagine ways that we can position these vessels that we control all our waking hours, then we can really imagine anything.

i probably attended a couple dozen, maybe more, classes since moving to new york. gyms are boring and the idea of pushing metal from the shoulder up, then back down, then back up...just doesn't seem very interesting. yoga offered a work out, but seasoned it with a splash of nap time. the student budget and the gift of a bike got in the way of spending $15 for an hour class. but since i came to india and the price became 100 rupees ($2), i figured 'when in rome'.

my first indian class was in pushkar, on the lawn of a complex right beside the lake. i did one sunrise and one sunset class along with a south african tourist. our teacher was a 63-year old man who was a spitting image of an indian version of ariel's father from 'the little mermaid'. he sat upright in his pink pants and orange shirt, talking us through the positions and then provided little sermons about the dangers of cigarettes during the relaxation part of the class. he slicked his hand through his long gray hair while he pontificated. i took one course in udaipur, this time the instructor was an indian version of an italian-american resident of bensonhurst who still lives with his mother at 32. despite his paunch, the man could put his forehead in some pretty creative places without moving his lower body. his course was pretty tough and his relaxation lecture was about how yoga does not mesh with weight lifting.

i've gone to about six sessions here in rishikesh. this place is the self-bestowed yoga capital of the world, though it would win that distinction in an objective contest. there is an ashram across the narrow street with courses for beginners from 4:30 until 6. the spacious room has massive windows that open onto the ganga, with light provided by the gorgeous chandeliers above. our instructor looks like the indian version of prince, if prince were capable of growing a beard (though the beard seems to further feminize our yogi). he speaks his english from his molars, which is almost reason enough to attend. but with the consistent practice i have seen results. i was clearly the best at the tree pose this evening (i bring the competition even to yoga) and i'm seeing some real progress in my elbow standing. before too long, i might redefine what it means to do the eagle (seeing a 6'5" thickly bearded dude stretching should inspire at least one poem). at the very least, it's keeping me off the streets.

namaste