Rickshaw GPS + WTF My Shoes?

I am beginning to think that adjusting to Indian culture is as much a piece of the Mysore challenge as practice in the shala.



This morning, I went over to have breakfast with Nagoratna (sp?) and Vinay, who are the mother and the son in the Rao family which provides lodging and food to Yoga East visitors to Mysore. I had been once before, and it is in a different area of Mysore and requires a rickshaw ride. The driver assured me he knew where it was (and he was probably partially truthful in that he knew, kind of, where the Lakshmipur neighborhood is). He certainly didn't know how to find the address, so he resorted to a practice of stopping every two minutes and asking another rickshaw driver. Eventually, we got there, and he couldn't make change for a 100 rupee note (worth maybe $2.25). Everything is a bit of an adventure, and very different.

Be sure to pack your sense of humor and some cultural humility when you come.

Yesterday, I climbed the 1,000 steps up to the Chamundi Hill temple. We had agreed to meet at 6:30 a.m., to do it before the sun got high. I planned to wear my Keene shoes, which are very comfortable and terrific for walking. At 6:20, when it was time to leave, I couldn't find them in the apartment, anywhere. I searched high and low, but didn't want to wake my roommate. Besides, why would she have the shoes anyway?

I put on my incredibly ratty old Teva sandals, and they were more than adequate to the Chamundi ascent. (Many Indians sport something close to flip flops and can probably run a half marathon in a pair.) On returning to the apartment, I dug around some more, and found inside a set of cabinets which are set on the floor by the door -- the shoe locker. The cleaning lady had kindly policed them up, and put them away where they belonged.

The streets in Mysore are dusty and dirty, and not altogether free of cow or goat dung. There's a very good reason, not especially spiritual, to take off your shoes when you enter a house or apartment. The locker by the door makes perfect sense -- but is far from obvious to an American.

Yoga note: we had another show-up-at-4:30 a.m. led class today, Sunday. I felt significantly less hammered, although equally challenged. I think I kept myself from going into the adrenaline zone today, which is where I probably was for the first led class. I bound in supta kurmasana rather readily -- where did that come from? Nothing skillful, but I got the clasp. Practice is different in Mysore.

Cheers.