Welcome back to India

Rolling into Amritsar is like entering a foreign country from Dharamsala. From the misty hills, Tibetan faces, and chilled-out vibe it's quite a shock to the system to be back to the hot flatlands, darker faces, and pushing crowds that come to mind when you think of the subcontinent. Actually, although Amritsar has a population of around 1 million it really isn't that crowded once you get away from the Golden Temple complex. My Israeli travelling partner and I had a devil of a time navigating to the dorm rooms through the throngs of pilgrims, guided on our way by blue-turbanned Sikh attendants.

I stayed the night at the temple itself, more for the experience than any sort of rest. Sikhism is incredibly inclusive, allowing anyone into their temple to practice as they will, as long as your shoes are removed and your head is covered (for men and women). Part of this is a cafeteria serving daal, rice, and chapati at all hours of the day and an extensive series of dorm rooms, all free, with donations greatly appreciated, of course. There seems to be a special little dorm for the Westerners, tucked just off the chaotic entrance. The guard at the door walks through periodically, clapping his hands, shaking yours, and constantly smiling.

Last night I went into the heart of the complex and walked around in the dark heat. The Golden Temple sits at the end of a causeway in the middle of large pool. It's dazzling at night as all the lights reflect off its surface and into the water. The surrounding buildings are all white marble with ornately inlaid floors and towering spires. Thousands of people were laid out on the stone surface, somehow managing to sleep on the hard ground with the constant humanity all around. I met a South African guy and we made circuits around the pool, talking about life, love, and travel before sitting down so he could read my palm. Apparently I'm emotional, sensitive, and strong-willed, and I have good self-confidence but am not very artistic. I take it all with a grain of salt.

Flashbacks

Although I'm still India, spending one more day in moist, misty Mcleod Ganj before heading back to the heat of the flatlands, my darling sister in Rhode Island has assembled a photo album of our time together in Madagascar. You can see it all on her facebook account at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2085482&l=515fb&id=1708214. Enjoy!

You want me to put what where?

"Now lift both legs above your head, hold it, then lower them to the ground, then one by one put them back over, push up with your hands and do five pushups." I stared in confusion at the contorted Indian man in front of me, having already lost track of the first three poses he had instructed us to do. My sweaty palms and feet had transformed my shiny new yoga mat into a slip-and-slide and whenever the teacher instructed us to hold a pose, my downward dog would turn into a slippery slug. The other student in the class with me was a professional dancer and she cooly performed each new postition with the kind of grace you only get when you've been dancing since age 6. Slowly but surely I worked my way through from shoulder stand to back bend to seated. After practicing yoga on and off for six years, there's a certain amount of muscle memory and natural bendiness that allows me to muddle through. But there was no way in hell my foot was getting behind my head.

Such is yoga in India. Because there's a huge demand for it from Western tourists there is an equally mind-boggling supply of yogis, ashrams, and courses. As you can imagine the quality varies greatly. I've had pretty good luck so far, going on word-of-mouth from fellow white kids. The first class I tried in Dharamsala was a complete sensory overload: I was so busy watching the instructor casually whip out three-fingered handstands, and the other students throw down a dizzying array of headstands and backbends, that I completely lost track of what I was doing (usually something at least five minutes behind). I recommended that class to a couple other people just for the experience.