DENNIS: While Kimberly’s gone to Rishikesh to study yoga, I stay behind in Raiwala to continue volunteering as a teacher. But I have a change of scenery too, as I have to relocate my living space to a different building. And it happens quickly and unexpectedly.

One morning as I’m leaving the apartment I encounter the cleaning lady on the stairs, who tells me something in Hindi (she’s done this several times, even though she knows we don’t understand a word), but also includes the English word “ma’am”” and points to my apartment. “Ma’am” is often a reference to the principal; and what I gather is that the principal has instructed her to clean my apartment. So even though I prefer to do my own cleaning, I leave the door unlocked.

When I return, however, it is clear that she has not been inside. Later that afternoon the cricket coach shows up. As we’ve mentioned before, he has a habit of popping in unexpectedly once a month to stay in the other bedroom for a few days, and nobody ever alerts us in advance. So I figure that’s why he’s here. But then he asks me if I’ve started moving out, and to say the least I am taken aback. When I ask what he’s talking about, he says I’m supposed to move to a different location, because there is a family coming in that needs my bedroom. I tell him that I have not been informed of any such thing.

Evidently he contacts the principal, because she calls me to tell me that she does indeed need me to vacate that room, and that she had asked the cleaning lady — who, once again, speaks zero English — to ask me to come and see her about it. Here a light goes on. When the cleaning lady said “Ma’am”, she must have meant that “Ma’am” wanted to see me. And I recall a few weeks earlier when a man came to the door and said “Ma’am” to Kimberly, and pointed to the campus where an event was being set up; we assumed that “Ma’am” meant Kimberly, and that her help was needed — which, as it turned out, was not the case. Apparently “Ma’am” meant that she was requested to go to the principal’s office.

Anyway, I ask her if I should just move to the other bedroom, and she says yes that would be satisfactory. Okay, fine; the other bedroom is not as big, and doesn’t have a dresser or a wardrobe, but I can make do, especially since it’s just a couple of more weeks. So I scoot my belongings over to the other bedroom.

But the next day the cricket coach (he often uses the Anglicized name Bobby) returns and asks me when I am going to “shift”. Now I’m really confused, and tell him that I’ve already “shifted” to the other bedroom. But he says no no no I’m supposed to move to another building. So I contact the principal again and she says that yes, I need to move to another place, across the road and on the campus. I remind her that she had told me I could stay in the other bedroom of the present apartment, and she insists that she said no such thing. (Roll the tape, boys.) She says this apartment will be needed starting tomorrow, but I can wait until about 8:00 a.m. to start moving. There is no “please” or “thank you” or “sorry for the inconvenience” in any of this.

Moving out of the old apartment / hack for staying warm at night

At this point I’m just about ready to chuck it and head to Rishikesh to spend a couple of weeks waiting for Kimberly to finish her course. She’s been urging me to do that — she says I’d enjoy being in Rishikesh, and that’s certainly true enough. But I’ve committed to teaching here through December 19, and by golly I’m determined to stay the course.

So I get “shifted” to my new home, a single room with no kitchen facilities. I’ve brought along a couple of sheets from the closet for the bed; the cleaning ladies try to tell me that there will be sheets on the bed where I’m going. I know that, but I’m taking extra to use as part of my devised plan to stay warm. There are blankets available, but I’m always hesitant to use the blankets in the places where I stay, because they often are not washed. (I’m not sure it even would be practical to wash the blankets here.) So my plan is to use several sheets (folded over to make them thicker) and to sandwich a survival blanket between them — I’ve been lugging one around the world with me, and even though it’s become rather ragged, it’s still usable. And then on the top of the sheets I pile my coat, my raincoat, and whatever clothes I can. These layers are all fastened together by clothespins.

It works. I manage to stay warm on the chilly nights. And even though it’s not a palace, this room will do (after I buy some rags and give it a cleaning) for the rest of my time here. And this being the ground floor, all I have to do is look outside and see the monkeys romping at close range. I just have to be careful not to leave my door open because, as I discover right away, they will come inside without an invitation.

Meanwhile in the Yoga Capital of the World

KIMBERLY: I’ve been keeping busy with a packed schedule learning about yoga and yogic philosophy. It’s my second week of Yoga Teacher Training (YTT) at Vinyasa Yogashala, and I am falling into a rhythm. One thing that is it a bit of a challenge when bunking with three other roommates, is grabbing a shower while the water is hot and the sun is still out. (Have we mentioned it gets cold in northern India in December?) So I’ve been trying to get one during a 15 minute break between classes, after Vinyasa and before meditation. My choice.

My roommates have made it clear that I don’t have to do so. But I thought it a good idea, even if it means going to our final class with my hair wet. We have to turn on the water heater if we want warm water, so I flip the switch before our Vinyasa class. And get all of my things ready. Then as soon as class is over, I jump in the shower for 5 minutes, dry off and slip on my clothes as I zip out the door. Luckily our room is only one flight of stairs away from class. It works for awhile but then classes start running long and I don’t want to be late coming into meditation. So I have to adjust and start taking a shower at other random times during my last two weeks. Guess I am providing more information than you ever bargained for.

Our Philosophy Teacher is a hoot. He has 3 class rules that we must abide by: no lying down, no eating or drinking and do not be late. If you are late he makes us sing a song. I was never late.

What is Philosophy? As my teacher defines it: “philos”= love and “ophy”= wisdom. He’s a great storyteller, who helps me understand more about Himalayan culture and way of life. He gives us a complete overview of the history of yoga. We learn that 98% of yoga is off the mat and we discuss the 8 chakras, the 8 limbs of yoga and the wise words of Patanjali, who taught life lessons. For example: The Five Causes of Pain.: 1.Misunderstanding: 2. Ego (it is not about you) 3. Attachment (to your own knowledge) 4. Hate 5. Fear of death. Patanjali teaches that anger comes with all 5 and if you fix one, fix all. There are so many gems that I am already filling up the notebook they gave us, and this is only the second week.

Meet My Fellow Teachers-in-Training

No photos are allowed during class, so I take advantage of one of our breaks to grab some of the other students attending the YTT program with me. We have representation from all over the world in our group; including Germany, USA (San Francisco and Colorado), Great Britain, Spain, Portugal, Israel (shown here both doing handstands with me), Australia, Southern India, Canada and United Arab Emirates. I don’t think I missed any locations, but may have. I am enjoying getting to know each and every one.

I have asked most of them what their motivation is for taking the course. Before I arrived I assumed that most of them would be eager to start a career teaching yoga. That is not the case for the majority of them. Like me, they are interested in learning more about yoga and want to challenge themselves. Most have been practicing for a few years — one student only a few months. What a great way to start a yoga journey!

What? Another San Francisco Neighbor

As it turns out one of the students was my neighbor of sorts. If you’ve been following along for awhile you may recall the time we were traveling in a small van to the Cambodia/Thailand border and met someone who dwelled in the very same apartment I did in San Francisco. That was a mind trip. This story is almost as good.

On the first day I met Megan I found out she was also from the United States, so of course we drilled down and together discovered that she lives on the same street that we did. We lived only about 2 blocks away from where she lives now. Only it was back in 1990-92. That was the only house we lived in together as a married couple with our infant son and our last “stick house” we lived in since becoming mobile. Small world!

We’ve been challenged to fast on Sunday by skipping dinner, and I’ve decided to rise to the occasion. It helps that no meals are being served. Plus it also gives the kitchen staff some much deserved time off. Some of the other students (I won’t name names) opt to have dinner out on the town.

I will leave you for now with some shots taken during one of my excursions around Tapovan (a section of Rishikesh), Yoga Capital of the World

Events occurred 12/8-111/2024

Have you ever experienced a sudden, unexpected move while traveling, or a significant ‘lost in translation’ moment? Share your story in the comments!