Appreciating Pune's Past

Early Sunday morning, a band of intrepid yoginis took off for a sunrise walking tour of Pune.  Crossing the Shivaji bridge, we caught the first glimpse of the golden orb as our architect/historian tour guide helped us imagine the Pune of early centuries, where citizens would come down to the water to bathe.  

The Shaniwar Wada, where the Peshwas lived for many decades, was a 7-story palace once.  Now just the fortification walls remain.  

The door was designed to keep away invaders riding on elephants.  

Note the sun and moon emblem above the spikes symbolizing the eternal rule of the empire.

I remember touring some of the next sites with a local resident last time and discussing how sad it was that the beautiful old buildings were not being taken care of.  This tour, sponsored in part by an organization whose two fold mission is to fund and restore these treasures AND to teach city residents about their own heritage, is one of Pune's transformations since my last visit.  

The wadas - or traditional homes in Maharastsra, featuring ante rooms, courtyards, fountains and facades -- are in various states of restoration. Depending on the wealth of the owner, the wada might have several of these courtyards, separating the spaces nearer the front door for visitors from the private spaces like the courtyard below intended for the women and children. 

Our architect - guide was particularly giddy about the no-nail joinery of the wooden structures.

Lotus symbols galore

Not yet restored. Note the clerestory window above the larger shuttered one.  These were a feature throughout the old city, allowing light to come in when the larger windows were closed.

Peacock and two parrots

The famous Kasba Ganapati Mandir, temple to Ganesh, the patron deity of Pune, built in the 18th Century and still used today.  No shoes and no photos inside!  Ganesh deserves his own posting, so more on him another day. 

Offerings and flower garlands for the deities...of note, the dear lady selling the wares is 102 years old!  Imagine the history she has witnessed...

Coming up next:  Diwali, Food, Geeta's Classes and Ganesh.  Stay tuned!

Prashanti the Philosopher

Back to the topic of Parinama or Transformation....

At the risk of injuring my husband who will fall off his chair laughing when he reads this....I am learning to be a morning person.

Part of that is creating new samskaras...new habits and that is a step down the path of transformation.  

Rising at 5:30 to make coffee, snack on some muesli, fruit and "curd" as yogurt is called here, helps to get things going.  Follow that with the brisk walk to and through our beautiful park to get to class, ideally by 6:30, seals the deal.  Class begins at 7 am sharp, and I want to get a good spot in the hall.

The main reason to get up so early is this:  I REALLY want to be fully alert for Prashant's classes because to take in the gems of the philosophical monologue that will weave through as we practice the sequence he calls out requires a high level of attentiveness to the words (he invents many), the ideas and how they affect the experience of the pose. 

We jump into what ever pose he calls out, and with rapid fire delivery begins the exposition of his thoughts on what is yoga.  At first he challenged us to do with no instruction, not because we don't need it, but because we should be alert to our state of body, mind and breath and determine how to work in the pose based on that.   Are you sleepy?  Are you stiff? Does you hip hurt?  Are you angry, sad, happy?  Do you need to work in your legs or your back?  If in your legs, is the front of the leg or the back of the leg you need to focus on?  While this goes on, you ponder and do and observe.  

But then your attention is drawn back out:  "Now, ALL OF YOU, listen here!", he says, and paraphrasing:  The needful practice of linking your mind-body is good, but notice what happens as you add the breath awareness.  What if you move on the inhalation, what happens then?   Ok now during the exhalation go deeper.  Now at the pause after the inhalation.  Try it with an uddiyana bandha.  Where does the mind go?

Silence while we work and try to let it sink in.  Then again we are drawn outside of our selves:  

"ALL OF YOU!  Come here and sit."   

Prashant has many stories this week about his father, all told with a smile in his eyes.   Some make us laugh, others offer an insight into Guruji or an "ah ha" moment.  Every photo of Guruji from Light on Yoga is on the wall above us.  In our third class with him, Prashant points to a photo and notes that these were done to try to capture what he wanted to teach, but were just a single moment, a "photasana".  How different the pose might look if he were practicing it for the body, mind and breath union.  

"How would YOU do differently", he asked us, "if you were doing this pose during a scan of the brain?"  He then points to the photo of Savasana - Corpse pose and reveals that Guruji instructed the photographer how to know that he was truly in the pose and not take the photo before he saw those qualities.  The face has a look of deep relaxation, the skin soft and fluid.  "That", Prashant notes, "is NOT photasana."  

Each early morning class with Prashant brings a new twist (no pun intended) to the practice, moving closer to the goal of yoga, transforming how to think not just about practice, but also the self in the many layers of our being - physical, mental, emotional, intellectual and spiritual.  

O Two...O How I Appreciate You

Jeff asked after my first post, “What do I smell?” which gave me the idea that I should paint a picture of what it is like to live and practice here. 

Let me say upfront that coming to Pune for a month is a HUGE gift – to myself and for my students – and I’ll share another post about the nature of the classes and practice time.   Fundamentally, however, it is challenging for those of us who like fresh air – and who doesn’t?

Now, you might be imagining a yoga retreat in a tropical and quiet urban oasis, and I IMAGINE that it was like that when the Iyengars first built their home and the Institute in the ‘70s.   

Today this area, called Model Colony, is bustling with traffic.  There are remnants of beautiful old mansion properties and highly stylized modern ones amidst older, slightly crumbling structures, newer apartment buildings and abandoned properties.  Several universities are nearby, and modern shopping enterprises reside side by side with specialty “mom and pop” shacks along the sides of roads -- major and minor --selling anything from ironing services and holy day flower chains to fresh fruit, kitchen wares, groceries, breakfast and chai. 

The Institute driveway itself is nicely landscaped with plants and trees which does make it greener in a sea of concrete buildings, but whether in class, practice or observation, it's impossible to escape the sounds and smells of the traffic as the windows are all open.  The many overhead fans in the hall keep the air moving which helps a bit.  

Most of us who come to study here live in the neighborhood of the Institute.  Our days start early, with a 2-hour class at 7 am three days a week, followed immediately by a 3-hour practice.  Two days there is a 2-3-hour class at 9:30 am with a long break until a late afternoon practice.   And one day a week we practice first, and then have an evening pranayama class.  My flat mates and I leave at 6:30 to walk to the Institute, and at that hour the air is fairly cool and the pollution is sometimes noticeable, BUT, we only have about 5 blocks of traffic to walk in as we can walk through this delightful park. 

Sadly for our lungs, the park is closed from 11-4, so we negotiate our way home through busy streets like this one:

Once home our apartment host’s chef makes us a delicious and healthy lunch from the veggies and beans she has shopped for the day before.  

We then either study, take care of errands and rest before returning to the Institute for either a late afternoon or evening class or an opportunity to watch other classes taught for locals including the Medical Class.  Unfortunately, we can’t count on walking home through the park at night, so our trip home looks like this:

My local sources attest that from four years ago, the air quality has gone from bad to worse.  The pollution is quite literally visible and noxious…smog, motor pollution, smoke from trash burning… and the lack of monsoon season in the region means that that “freshening up” of the atmosphere didn’t happen.   On the busier streets, it burns the eyes and lungs and even on less major arteries, it’s very noticeable.  My activated charcoal filter mask may not be pretty, but when I walk in traffic or go out in the auto rickshaw, it's very effective.  My friends are not as happy with their scarf option.  Now if only there were a mask for the eyes!

 

I DID notice that Sunday’s air quality was noticeably better as folks are hanging out with family and there is less traffic.  We have no classes or practice that day, so it’s a great day to head to the park for walks in the morning.  

My flatmate, Farnaz, enjoying the cleanish park air with me

Another day, I'll share a bit about what the classes have been like and a few photos from the institute.  

Transformation

Hello again!

As the gentle reader may note in the previous posts from my first visit here four years ago, I was swept away by the place, the people, the new experiences.  I was head-over-heels in love with the color, the visuals of both everyday life and my excursions near and far.  I see that I felt affection for the cultural differences, in awe of the Institute and the chance to learn directly from Guruji, Geetaji, Prashantiji, and the others here, wonder at the marvels of humans in the early centuries, and finally amusement at my fumbling attempts to understand it all.  I wrote and photographed, in part, to share those moments with friends and family who were curious, and of course to help me to remember this time, as one tends to forget the primacy as time wears on.  Taken as a whole, the past posts read as a snapshot of who I was at that time, AND who I wasn't...yet.

And so the wee hours of jet lag have me pondering this notion of transformation.

In yoga, the Sanskrit word parinama has a multitude of applications and interpretations.  The basic definition is "transformation", but as Edwin Bryant points out, it also means "consequences, and can be read as pointing to the ever-changing nature of everything."

Our goal in yoga, according to Patañjali, is to still the fluctuations of the consciousness to find the true nature of our Self.  To do that we have to transform on many different levels, peeling away at the layers and obstacles to that goal until we can begin to catch a glimpse of said Self.  

To the beginning yoga student who comes to class for any number of motivations, this goal might seem overwhelming and daunting!   Thankfully, Patañjali's Yoga Sutras break it down for us.   But while there are some very helpful translations and commentaries, not to mention our wise teachers and Guru who help clarify and bring "light" to help us get there, where does one begin transformation?

I humbly submit we can begin that journey in Tadasana - Mountain Pose.

As beginners, we learn to find the shape of the pose, how to move and position the feet, legs, the torso and head and the arms.  One day, after many repetitions of that and other poses, it occurs to us that it is not merely a physical act.  We become aware how one action brings us freedom to do or create another action, while another closes that avenue.  We transform our physical awareness of the pose and our sense of our self in it.  And on and on it goes, as we discover more and more subtleties, not just of our physical body, but also the physiological, mental and spiritual experience in a pose.

Those "ah ha" moments, whether in a pose or in life, are transformation.  And while they can be gratifying, the Yoga Sutras also recommend we not get attached to that feeling.  In our practice or in class, we can use that moment as a new starting point, but in all likelihood, there will be other transformations, so we continue our study, and our life, and observe what happens...and continue transforming.

Going, Going, Goa!

Just when I was feeling so much at home here, my time has to come to an end.  While I love going abroad, what I love more is feeling AT HOME when I am abroad. Sure, in the beginning it is just finding your way around and coping with different environmental factors (the biggest challenge for me here was noise and air pollution – but the weather, which is not unlike summer in Los Altos was divine), learning how to navigate the neighborhoods, how to bargain and get locals’ prices for even the smallest things like a few pieces of fruit, how to greet people, how to get things done, and how to read body language.  

On that latter note, one of the first body language things that confused me was the Indian head shake.   On my first day, a question to a local vendor elicited a side-to-side, quick head wobble in the same plane as the shoulders:  Was that “Not sure?”, “Maybe?”, “Yes?”,  “No?”  To be sure I asked the question again, and it SEEMED to mean, “yes”, but I still had my doubts.  Sure enough, as the days and weeks passed, I saw the head wobble as a sign of acknowledgement or understanding, as ubiquitous as the American head nod.  I think.

The next thing that was challenging was English,  both understanding and being understood.  While it is clearly widely spoken here (although each state has it’s own language – 22 of which are officially in the constitution), the accents and word choices were different enough to require me to listen with concentration.  One night, when my roomie and I were hoping to get an auto rickshaw home, we repeated our destination and the local landmark 3 or 4 times, but still the driver seemed perplexed.  Suddenly I had a thought:  I’ve always been pretty good at imitating accents (just ask my children - I do a mean Hagrid), so I tried saying it with an Indian English accent.   Terrible, right?  But, don't laugh...much to my roomie's amazement the driver wobbled his head in understanding and indicated that we should climb in.  Note to self:  learn more of the local language for the next visit. Also, practice head wobble.

 To wrap things up, I took a three-day weekend to the next state down.  Goa reminds me a bit of Hawaii in its landscape and it’s more laid back feel.   From 1510 until 1961, this state was a held as a Portuguese colony, and one clearly gets that picture from the Christian names, the cathedrals and churches, and distinctive architecture.  

 

The fabulous Heather

Fellow yogini, Heather and I stayed in a hotel built adjacent to the site of Fort Aguada which guards the coast at the mouth of the Mandovi River.  We had a splendid view of one of the ramparts from our room.   A little beach walking, hill climbing, yoga practice and dining were about all we could muster our first day. 

The practice space was divine.

The second day included a little touring passed rice paddies, the capital Panaji, and a spice farm.  Mostly, we couldn't wait to get back to our beautiful resort and just hang out, read and take walks. 

Organic Spice Farm

In addition to nutmeg, pepper, cinnamon, curry leaves, cardamom, betel nut, chilis, allspice and mace, Savoi grew tropical fruits like starfruit, papaya, pineapple, bananas, coconut and jackfruit.  Best papaya I ever ate...

Signing off for now.  Thanks for coming along on my Asian ride.  Next visit here, January 2014!

Dink Ladoo

For some, the international travel experience elicits anxiety about the food.   For me, the opportunity to explore the gastronomic delights of one's environment is among the highlights of every trip.  And because eating tends to be a shared experience, having friends with a shared enthusiasm for food makes it even more fun.

First, there's Tahsha, my wonderfully ebullient flat mate, who was my daily gastronomic partner as we explored eating establishments, and learned to shop and bargain.   One of our routine stops after practice was at the Coconut Wala or vendor...with his or her cart on the side of the road loaded with big, young, fresh coconuts.  For 20 rupees (about 40 cents), coconut man rips into the green outer layer with a machete, opens a little hole in the soft flesh, and sticks in a straw.  

If you're lucky, and I have been, the coconut is full of fresh clear water, full of potassium.  Suck that down, hand the fruit back to coconut man, and he chops it in half, makes you a scraper from one side, and then scrapes up all the yummy coconut gel on the inside. 

  



I came to Pune armed with the names of friends of friends who, when I met them, were bursting with enthusiasm for their mother land, city and cuisine.   Pratap took me on a tour of the old city and markets, explained so much about the history of Pune and India, and introduced me to thalis. The Hindi word means "plate", and the DELICIOUS food is served into little dishes while different types of hot-off-the-griddle puffy and flat breads come piling on to your plate.  The servers keep bringing more and refilling your bowls...so best to come hungry!

Example of a Thali

Next was a business school friend, Vishal, who offered me a glimpse of the busy professional's family life, and introduced me to non-Indian options in the swanky Koregaon Park neighborhood and some of the most tranquil dining settings.  I went back with some of my yoga friends to my favorite, Dario's.  It was truly a breath of fresh air.

And last but not least, Prasad and Swati, who welcomed me into their home and showed me how the modern and traditional aspects of Indian life mesh.  I was so taken by Swati's cooking that she invited me over to teach me how to make a few dishes.

I accepted with enthusiasm.

  First, the super spicy and delicious Kothimbir Wadi, a cilantro-lentil flour dough that is steamed, then sliced, then pan fried crisp.  

Next was my new favorite, Dink Ladoo, a typical Maharastrian sweet that is packed with nutritious ingredients.  My host/teacher explained that it is typically made to be given to women who have recently given birth or during colder weather to give energy and warmth.

Ingredients included:

• Kharik (dry date) powder
• Shredded coconut
• Cashews, Almonds and Pistachios
• Dink 
• Khus Khus (white poppy seeds)
• Nutmeg
• Ghee
• Jaggery or other sugar

All the whole ingredients are ground to the consistency of coarse sand and combined with the ghee, then formed into large balls by hand.  The whole process was very time consuming, making me appreciate them even more. 

 Here is what Dink looks like when it comes out of the bag.  The best I can figure from looking online is that it is the edible gum of an Acacia tree in a crystalline form.

The dink is heated briefly in the ghee, and it puffs up into little styrofoam-like balls. 



Once all the ingredients were assembled and well mixed, we formed large balls by squeezing the mixture together...it's a bit like trying to form a snowball from really dry snow...it just doesn't want to stick together.  It took me at least two minutes to get a ball that looked half as good as Swati's below. 

When we were finally finished, we cleaned up and went to the market to procure the more unusual ingredients for me to take home.  Expect to see Dink Ladoo at my next dinner party!

When Life Gives You Lemons...

The last week has been one of highs and lows...on the one hand, both Geetaji and Guruji (through Abhijata) have been teaching a great deal and they are both in great spirits.  On the other hand, I am injured.  I developed an acute "tennis elbow" the third week, and by Friday and Saturday's classes with Geeta, I was only able to watch.  Watching was great, of course, and I found myself tearing up realizing how lucky I was to be have her teach us with such vigor and enthisasm.  

Still, I was feeling a little blue this week at practice.  At the encouragement of a few more senior teachers here, I made my self practice so I can learn from my injury....From what actions does the pain come?  How can I work in the poses so as not to aggravate it? what have I learned about my poses that can help me avoid causing this injury again?  It was one of my best practices here.

Today, Abhi and Guruji taught the Women's class, and while I wasn't close enough to him to hear his exact words, I got the gist and realized he was watching us closely and seeing all..... What a perfect class to end on.

As we cleaned up the Asana hall and gathered our belongings, Guruji stayed in his place near the exit, chatting with Abhi and Raya.  At last I had my chance to go and greet him.  I knelt down and bowed, and it didn't feel strange or awkward at all.  As I got up, he looked up and smiled. 


Lemonade any one?