Winter in Rishikesh

I arrived in Rishikesh, India after two days of travel with very little sleep. Starting from Ko Chang island in Thailand (near the Cambodian border), I took an early morning truck ride through hills and jungle to the ferry dock at the other end of the island. After a two hour crossing to the mainland, I was on an all-day bus ride to Bangkok where I walked back to my hotel in the dark and repacked my bags for air travel. I caught just a couple hours of sleep and my early morning transport arrived on time to take me to the airport for a 6 a,m. flight to New Delhi.

After a five hour flight, I had a lengthy layover in Delhi which gave me plenty of time to gather my bags, go through immigration, customs, and re-check my bags before boarding the domestic flight north to Dehra Dun. I wasn’t sure what to think when watching the pilot test the tires of the small plane with his sneaker, but he seemed confident.

We touched down in Dehra Dun after dark and I hired a taxi to Laxman Jhula, which is upriver from Rishikesh proper. Immediately I covered my nose which was being assaulted by diesel fumes mixed with body odor exuding from the musty car and its driver. He drove like a maniac through narrow, bumpy, winding mountain roads, weaving in and out of traffic, passing trucks, carts, cows, bicycles, motorbikes, and pedestrians… down the mountain to Laxman Jhula.

With a sudden jolt, we arrived at the Ashram (a center for spiritual study) where I was scheduled to spend the next few months in yoga training. I was confused by my surroundings. The website claimed the Ashram was located in a quiet area away from town. There were photos of a gorgeous white sand beach along the Ganges (I later learned these were taken an hour up the river, not at the Ashram location).

I was exhausted. It was dark, muddy, hectic, loud, and really really cold. Welcome to India!

 

 

 

I came here for a couple of reasons but mostly for yoga. Even though I’ve taken several yoga-teacher-trainings in the past, they were completed in the late ’90s and early 2000s before the existence of the Yoga Alliance. When the Yoga Alliance was forming, I’d already been teaching for 7 years. Based on my experience, I could have been “grandfathered in” to their system, but I wasn’t confident the institution would have any relevance to my future as a teacher, so I declined.

Yoga has been around for thousands of years. It seems absurd to me that a group of people in the USA self-created the authority to register yoga teachers and collect yearly fees.

My bad! They have indeed become a world-recognized governing body. I still think it’s hype, but resorts and retreat centers use Yoga Alliance registration to validate the quality of teachers they hire, so I would benefit from having Yoga Alliance registration on my resume.

I called Yoga Alliance to see if I could be grandfathered-in now and was told, “I’m sorry, we stopped doing that in 2011. You’ll have to redo your training at a Yoga Alliance registered school.”

So here I am in Rishikesh, India, the ‘birthplace of yoga.’

 

 

I was shuffled to a dark, block cement room with no weatherproofing, no heat, and one smelly polyester blanket with no sheet between myself and it. The bathroom was gross (to put it nicely). This was nothing like the simple, clean, bright rooms shown on the website (surprise).

Wearing a down jacket, jeans and a hat to bed, I stayed up all night miserable, shivering, and talking to my sister through Skype. I become pitiful after days of no sleep.

 

 

 

India is not an easy place to travel, especially for females. It was a shock coming straight from Thailand, the tropical ‘Land of Smiles.’ I also walked into the middle of a financial crisis which started November 8th when Prime Minister Narendra Modi announced the country’s two largest bills are no longer valid currency. His reason: a surprise attack on corruption and “black money.” After this announcement Indians panicked and withdraw their cash from banks. The Banks ran out of cash, creating a crisis for Indians and foreigners alike. I couldn’t change cash at the airport nor banks, and the ATM’s sit empty. I’m unable to get ahold of my own money. There just isn’t enough cash in circulation. Many tourists are getting stuck in the situation.

Merchants near the yoga center are mainly small stalls that don’t accept credit cards, so it’s a tough situation. Fortunately, I already paid the Ashram for food, accommodation and Yoga training. Occasionally, an ATM is stocked with cash. The word spreads fast and the whole town goes running to get in line with hopes of withdrawing our allotted 2000 rupee limit ($30 USD) before the ATM empties again. I’ve been successful a few times, so I’ll be okay for a little while. I don’t need much, just cleaning supplies, toiletries, and herbal remedies to keep healthy in this environment. I’m hoping to ride out the cash crisis and stick with my plan to stay in India for six months.

 

 

 

Now that I’m settled and have come to terms with my surroundings, I’m finding what I love here. Rishikesh is known throughout India as a holy city. Like many sacred sites in India, alcohol consumption and meat-eating are forbidden. A sober town of vegetarians …my kind of place.

I switched to a nicer room, so I now have a balcony right over India’s most sacred river, Ganga-Ji. I wake to greet her as she winds her way against a backdrop of Himalayan foothills. I’m nourished by the surrounding temples, ashrams, and the constant sound of prayers swirling together with incense on the crisp mountain air.

Nights and mornings are freezing cold. It’s been raining a lot, and the wind blows through cracks in the window frames and walls, but there have also been a few glorious sunny days and warm afternoons.

 

 

There’s a quality of life here I find difficult to put into words. I’m wondering if it has something to do with a cultural belief in reincarnation, or maybe it’s the rich ancient history of traditions still practiced today giving a sense of timelessness.

 

 

At times the culture seems pushy and rude to me. On another hand, there’s a sense of togetherness not often felt in the West. It’s an underlying sense that we’re all in this endless journey together, and we’re actually one and the same being.

 

 

I wouldn’t be the first to call India a land of contrasts. Some shop owners and service workers are masterful at price-gouging and playing trickery to part me from my money. Perhaps they figure it’s my own fault if I’m stupid enough to fall for their shenanigans. On the flip side, I’ve left valuable items at locations all over Rishikesh, and the items were always returned to me, even days later.

I’ve had taxi drivers stop and give me a free ride because they were going my direction, and I met a gem shop owner who regularly stayed up until the wee hours to offer free Astrology readings to random strangers because “it’s his gift.”

 

 

Rishikesh is also quirky as heck and I rather enjoy that about it. For example, the ear-cleaner-guys who roam the streets in matching outfits, like some sort of franchise. Do your ears need a good cleaning?

 

 

 

 

 

Even though being here the coldest time of year has been downright grueling (Brrrrrr!), in general, I’ve been happy. I love to learn and be immersed in spiritual practice.

 

 

The month-long, 200-hour program flew by and came to a close with a certificate ceremony and “Aarti” ceremony at the banks of Gangaji.

 

 

“Aarti” is a ritual in which light is offered to a deity (in this case the river herself), symbolizing that the divine spiritual element is the central focus of our lives, and worldly activities are secondary.

 

 

 

 

I have a two-week break now before starting another month-long, 300-hour program.