Yoga retreat, week 1

I'm writing this on Tuesday, October 22nd. I'm only 4 days into the yoga retreat, but there's so much crammed into such a small space of time, I thought it best to write at short intervals.

There are a few ways to document this. I think it might be most interesting if I include some of the theory I'm learning along with the larger experience. Otherwise later down the line, I might be talking about something I've learned the 3rd week, which will make total sense to me, but confuse anyone who else reading this without the same background knowledge. So prepare to learn some yoga theory!

Background

But first, some background on the ashram (an ashram is basically a retreat center). It's located about an hour West of a city called Nasik, which is a 5-6hr train ride East of Mumbai/Bombay. It's pretty isolated from noise and distraction, as there's no internet (I'm currently typing this one my tablet, which I'll post later on our one off day per week), electricity is sporadic, and I have no phone - though few who have them have much reception anyways. There are about 40 students here, 20 or so for the Teacher Training course, like me. The other 20 are for Yoga Therapy. And half a dozen teachers.

I'm in a room with 3 others guys. We are 4 of the 6 males in both courses combined, kind of what I expected - but not the only reason I came here!  ;-) In total, I'm one of 3 Americans. The other students are from Asia, Europe, S. America, Australia, the Middle East, and several from India. The average age is probably in the early 30's.

We wake up daily at 5am, then begin a 2hr yoga session at 6am. Breakfast, cleaning, and 2 lectures take us to lunch, then a 2hr break. We then have 2 more lectures, followed by 2 more hours of yoga before dinner. Before bed at 9ish, we'll sometimes have chanting, or study time.

The food is delicious, all vegetarian - the Indians do it best. I do miss certain things, and I've felt my energy level relax because I'm having less protein, stimulants, and food in general than normal. But it makes it easier to focus, similar to when I did vipassana.

Yoga: East vs. West

I knew this would be the case, but this yoga is very different than most of what you see in the States. To summarize, the focus in the US is on physical fitness almost exclusively, with perhaps a little meditation on the side. It's akin to gymnastics, where people go to become more flexible, lose weight, etc. People push themselves (and are often encouraged to do so), meaning going deeper into poses, holding them until exhaustion, or modifying their environment to make the process more difficult. For example, "hot yoga" is a new trend of performing yoga in rooms heated to 100 degrees, or even hotter.

Though I'm not buying 100% into the way things are taught here, I see a lot of sense in what they say about much of Western yoga. Just yesterday, a teacher called attention to the fact that you will not find hot yoga in India - it doesn't exist. Nor will you find "doggie yoga" (yoga for dogs, yes; I think this is just in the US). Keep in mind, this is the birthplace of yoga. This is certainly not to automatically discount the creation of new methods of yoga. But it's always interesting to question why there is a need for new developments. For example, what does the new method provide us that the old one didn't?

The teacher pointed out something I had been thinking about before I came here: In many places, yoga has become just another industry. It is akin to the world of dieting. Which diet is best? Which will help me lose the most weight in the least amount of time? It is a product that is specifically produced to be consumed, and in large quantities. This is, in large part, a result of the capitalist mindset. You can shop around different yoga schools - in Seattle, we have as many yoga studios as Starbucks - and choose one (or several) that fits your present desires. Not to say having choices is bad, but I do wonder how we came to have so many "different" options. In addition to selecting a studio, you can spend $25 on a yoga mat that costs $2.50 to make (but hey, it's got flowers on it!), hundreds of dollars on so-called "yoga clothing" which really are just old clothing styles with new names, and more $ on all the accessories marketers can dream up.

From what I understand so far, the main difference between this yoga and most in the US comes down to the definition of yoga itself. Yoga has been practiced for thousands of years, but was codified most notably by an Indian dude named Patanjali, in his "Sutras." This is the foundational text of all yoga practice, regardless of where in the world you practice. Your yoga instructor will consider this the source, no doubt about it.

This is important because Patanjali's sutras made it clear that the purpose of yoga is to balance the body and mind. And mind. This is where much of the West diverges from the East. In the East, the connection between these two is integral to the practice. Neither is valued more highly than the other, though the physical practice is considered as preparation for the mental. In reality, they can't be separated. They say that when our body is not stable, neither is our mind; and vice versa. You can easily test this for yourself. Next time you are stressed about something, check in with in your body. It's going to be experiencing the physiological reactions to stress. Though actually, it's hard to say which came first, since they are so connected. Psychologists have found when you encounter a stressful stimulus, your palms will begin to sweat before you even comprehend the stressor. In the same vein, when you're feeling angry you take deep breaths to relax, which is a bodily function that also calms the mind.

Anyways, the point is that the notion of balancing the mind and body is inherent within the central philosophy of yoga. When the mind and body are out of balance, you experience "dis-ease"/disease. You get stressed. You get sick. So the practice is designed to fix this.

So how do yoga practices establish this balance? Well, you start with "asanas," or postures. This is the part of yoga everyone is familiar with. It's the physical part. Defined, it means "steady and comfortable postures." That's the part that may seem strange to this of us who practice in the West. Comfortable? Probably not. Often, we hold the pose as long as we can stand it, then bow out, exhausted. When you think about it, this fits perfectly into our societal mindset of pushing ourselves to our limits, whether in physical exercise, work, school, or anything really. This is how I lift weights, and how I work in grad school. It makes sense we'd apply that ubiquitous approach to everything in life, including yoga.

But that's the problem. Yoga isn't, at its core, supposed to be stressful, or push our physical boundaries. It's not a contest to see who can stretch the farthest. It's a way to bring your mind into sync with your body, in a way that is relaxing, but makes you healthier, happier, and leaves you full of energy. You're not supposed to leave class exhausted, drenched in sweat. By its very definition, that's not yoga. That's physical exercise. It's stress. And whether positive or negative stress (distress or eustress), stress has no place in yoga. At least how it's been understood and practiced for millennia.

This has been a little tough for me to digest, because I love pushing myself to limits. I love lifting more weight, climbing higher, and becoming more flexible. It makes me feel good, and I don't want to give it up. But I don't have to. Those activities are fine, and I get something wonderful out of them. But out of yoga, I get something different. Because of the combination of physical postures with mental exercises, it provides something different, something unique. Something that doesn't fit into the box with other forms of physical exercise. It provides a life philosophy, a recipe for happiness and well-being, and it helps you live according to that philosophy.

To play devil's advocate though, I'm not sure how much this really even matters. So "yoga" in the US isn't loyal to the way it's always been practiced. There are benefits - though admittedly costs as well - to the way the US practices it. And who's to say anyone who practices should have to care about the mind aspect of yoga, or its philosophy? Terms and concepts have been redefined throughout history - it's the natural way of things. For example, Christianity today isn't what it was 1,000 years ago. But it doesn't seem to matter much to modern day Christians. Some still do good, and some still do bad, just as it has always been. It's still incredibly meaningful to millions of people.

And furthermore, if the purpose of yoga doesn't entail pushing yourself beyond small levels of discomfort, to stress, how are you supposed to progress, or get better at it? Why shouldn't we push our limits? Isn't that the point of life - growth?

In a way, yes. But we should consider what it is we are pushing, and why. Is the pleasure gained from a given activity fleeting? Or does it stay with me for long afterwards? Is this activity something I get pure joy from? Or is it just a substitution for something larger?

Ernest Becker, a renown cultural anthropologist, explains that many (perhaps most) personal and social accomplishments are usually sought out to prove to ourselves that we are "worth something," even if we are unaware of this underlying motivation. This insecurity comes from a desire to be "worth something" in the eyes of others. In other words, we have been programmed to behave in particular ways to satisfy others, or our own notions of what others expect of us. These programmed behaviors become so ingrained that they transform into our own desires, at least on the surface. But beneath these programmed behaviors, there is something larger and more profound.

The point is, we should ask ourselves, Why am I really doing this particular activity? The cliché is the successful businessman who never truly "succeeds" because what he's really looking for is his father's love. As for us, we might ask ourselves why we're on our current career path. Does it make me happy? If so, in what ways? If not, why am I currently doing it? Or, relevant to yoga, why am I doing it? Is it to increase flexibility? To be healthier and happier? To reduce stress? To distract myself from my daily worries? To zone out?

Ultimately, it comes down to, What do I want, and Why do I want it? We have a responsibility to ourselves to know this, to be aware of our own desires. Then it's our choice whether or not to modify our behavior based on what we discover.

Yoga as it's typically practiced in the US will probably get you a stronger, more flexible body. And that's awesome, if that's the goal you set. But yoga was intended to be (and still is in many places) much more than that. It is a system of mental-spiritual training for realizing the "true nature" and creative potential of the self and gaining freedom from conscious and unconscious impulsions, reactivities, and behavioral conditioning. It is, as they talk about it here, a tool of "personality transformation." I think we can get so much more out of it than the physical.

Remember the Reins

We are walking skeletons.
Our flesh and blood embody
the behaviors and forms
Impressed upon us by culture.
By family.
By friends.
By enemies.
By strangers.

Predispositions established, lived,
and then forgotten,
Yet still lived.

Guided unconsciously, we are the
Horse rider who forgets he is ahorse;
Loses sight of his destination.

Horse, like unchecked thought and emotion,
Carries us along the path of its own choosing.
A comfortable path, to be sure,
Though one absent the strenuous peaks,
with their rewarding vistas;
Ignorant of those lessons in humility which
Ravines gift from their low perspectives.

But mere contentment is surrender
to a life of illusory fulfilment,
One of disguised aversion,
One in which attachment
Dons the sheepskin of love.

I beseech you:

Remember the reins.
They have always and will always
Lay delicately across your palms,
Imbued with heavy potential.

Consider their weight,
Their fine detail.
Caress them with your willing fingertips and
Appreciate their indentations,
As you might relish the indentations
Memory has marked upon your own soul.

Remember the reins.
Resume your journey, and travel:
Forward,
Backward,
Standing still,
It makes no matter.

Just remember the reins. 

Burning effigies, Hare Krishnas, sand dunes, and Walt Whitman

I'm not exactly sure where to start this one. A lot has happened in the past several days. Many of these events relate to one another, though fully blending them would also detract from their individual uniqueness. This entry may not make much sense.

For me, the last several days are uniformly represented in my mind by the last night I spent in the basti (slum). Stephen and I sat in the cool sand, alone together, on a dune overlooking the revelry below. It was the night of a huge Hindu festival, Dushera, when the city of Jaipur (along with cities around the country) ceremoniously set fire to 50ft tall paper machet representations of figures from the epic Indian text, the Ramayana. The holiday celebrates the death of a villain, though it's not as simple as that. As they torch this character, they also mourn his passing. It's not as in the christian tradition, where Satan, who fell from grace, represents pure evil. Rather than painting a picture with two colors - good and evil - this ceremony acknowledges the greyscale of human morality, noting that a man can commit evil deeds, yet not be evil himself. Just as you and I could be angry at a point in time, but this does not necessarily make us angry people.

You know who's not an angry person? The Boss Man. The Boss Man is a character in a new Bollywood film, being released in a couple days. I've seen ads all over India, in numerous media, for his confident swagger that is composed of both Indian and western elements. This man has an Indian temperament - no need to get angry or overly emotional at slights - and the stereotypical western (perhaps American would be more accurate) physical strength. He's jacked and he sends adversaries tumbling in gravity-defying manners the directors of the Matrix would call over the top. Like many Indians I'm seeing in the bigger cities, he lifts weights, and it shows. Very few Indians do. Though it's becoming more common, as is Western fashion. Fashion trends shift, as do the characteristics of desirable bodies. Centuries ago, it was considered attractive, and a sign of wealth, to be fat. In the US today, mustaches are "out," except in Portland and Seattle (and Rajasthan, in India). Except for perhaps the mustaches (keep rocking them, Seattle), there are increasing similarities between styles in the US and India, in clothes and in body type. (Insert comments on globalization here - I'm lazy, you can fill this in for yourself). Indians (some - the priviledged) are becoming bigger, lifting weights, performing more "western" forms of exercise. Americans are eating as much as ever.

You probably know I'm a fan of chipotle. If not, ask me sometime about my patented "chiptole diet." It's part of a weight lifting routine I've done off and on for years. Great stuff. 1,800 calories per burrito if you do it right. Great if you want to put on mass. Also great for sucking up more resources than a vegetarian likely consumes in a week, when you think about what the cows who became that steak had to be fed to fatten them up, the water required to grow their food, the land where they "graze," the hormones they're injected with, the shipping costs, the methane they release, etc. etc. All this for a burrito. All this for my vanity. Because that's what it's really about. I don't need to be muscular, at least in the ways I grow from pushing a weighted bar up and down while lying on my back. I don't use that strength for anything important. The process is simply designed to generate human peacock feathers, which unfortunately I wasn't born with. But I work for them. And others in the US work for them. Because peacock feathers are pretty and desirable, or so we're told. And everyone wants to be desired. And we're a nation of peacocks. But eventually the feathers fall off and are no longer replaced. What then? Why is our ideal body that which is inherently unsustainable? Has it always been this way? Or is the way we consume related to the way we consume? We live in a culture which does not believe in recycling, with few exceptions (again, don't shave those mustaches, Seattle). Something goes wrong with a TV, we replace it. A new iPhone comes out, we get rid of our perfectly good older model. In reality, we gain little, in terms of technological advances. Yet in our socially-concerned minds, shaped by the tango between our insecurities and their resultant cravings, we gain a distraction from the reality of the moment, a respite from the humanizing vulnerability that is part of our very nature. We consume, and in doing so, turn away from the reality of the moment. We consume, and in doing so, give into past worries and anxieties for the future. Our bodies become as our minds, our minds as our bodies - docile, needlessly overburdened, useless but for performing isolated tasks that serve foremost to stroke our own egos.

My own ego, overly attached to the philosphy of dispelling the ego. Becoming attached to the philosophy of non-attachment.

Sitting on sand dunes reading Walt Whitman.

Great thanks to a good friend for pushing me beyond my comfort zone these past several days.


EDIT: I should clarify this one a bit. I was playing with styles of writing a bit to see how best to link a bunch of different ideas and events. In plain terms, I had some powerful conversations with a friend about the effects of capitalism on our body images, and how we attain the "ideal" body. He pointed out an interesting contrast between the ascetic body and one which works out, in where theyre considered desirable, and the repercussions of this. He also called attention to my own unstated assumptions in my mindfulness practice and research, some of which are naive and fundamentally ethnocentric. It gave me a lot to consider.

We also attended a couple big Indian religious festival, one related to Hare Krishnas in Vrindavan, where we met some serious practicianers and joined in some of the services. Learned w lot about that religion's philosophy. Stephen also got his glasses stolen by a monkey. Those things are cute, but beware - they're just little thieves!

Living in a Jaipur slum

I woke up at 7am and man I had to pee. 

We all know the feeling. The internal debate that subsequently takes place. Do I try to hold it in until the alarm goes off and get a bit more sleep? Or do I absolutely have to get up and walk to the restroom? This time, it was the latter. But it was different than anytime before. 

This time, I got up from the concrete floor and unlatched the bar locking the door from the inside. I took care not to stumble over my snoozing rommate, my companion in this 6 by 8 foot concrete box with no windows. I slipped on my sandals and walked down the shared hallway - also concrete, the floor wet with what I hope was water. 

I stepped outside into the morning haze, carefully avoiding the stumbling traps - roots, mismatched concrete steps, and piles of garbage. I then joined the procession of Indian men walking down the street with water bottles. I only had to pee, so I walked empty-handed. 

There are of course no toilets here, since there's no running water. What water we have is in buckets, delivered daily, and used for bathing, cooking, cleaning, and drinking. This being an illegal settlement, no proper water or sewage system has been constructed. And so the men walk down then street to defecate in a local wooded area, though some choose to go on the side of the street. That is also acceptable. The water is used to clean yourself afterwards. No one here uses toilet paper. Just make sure, if you come to India, beware of the left hand. And bring hand sanitizer.

I should have mentioned, I'm staying in an Indian slum. One of my friends is studying Hindi in Jaipur, the 8th time he's been in the country. He speaks almost fluently. He lives here, the only foreigner to ever to do so (according to the locals). For this, he's somewhat of a local celebrity. The kids love him, and many ofthe adults are taken aback when he is able to converse with them. They laugh in surprise. Everyone here wants to learn English, because it often leads to greater opportunities. Yet, here is this american learning Hindi. Puzzling.

His rent is about $20 a month. With food and transportation,the lives on $80/month. Not bad. Of course, to enjoy this price, you have to be OK with open, fresh-air "toilets," bucket showers, never being completely clean, hand washing clothes, maybe enough electricity for one lightbulb, and questionable sanitary conditions. 

I write this a bit sardonically, because it is so different from what I (and all of us) are used to. It's almost comical. But it can only be so when you know it's only temporary. This style of life is a choice, for Stephen and for me (a very short one in my case). That is not the case for everyone else who lives here, which is at times sobering. Without a doubt, they would all choose more comfortable living conditions if given there choice. Most constantly strive to get out of these conditions. But they're stuck, because of family responsibilities, lack of education and work opportunities, and of course the caste system. 

Don't let anyone tell you - like my high school history books - that the caste system in India is dead. That's absolutely not true. Browsing through Indian newspapers, every day you see a story about a young eloping couple, from different castes, who have been murdered (possibly burned alive) by their own families for marrying outside their caste. This is only one example. They're everywhere. 

Yet, the slum is not some violent, dangerous place where people langour despondently. Or if it is, I've not seen it. Admittedly, I've only seen a very small portion. I've been told there are of course the drunkards who are violent, the glue sniffing children who will mob you and turn out your pockets. But I've met people who are (surprise) no different than you and me. They don't have internet or chat about the latest episode of Breaking Bad, but they have a strong sense of community that, coming from the USA, I envy. I went to a play (which lasts 10 days, 8-10pm) where much of the community turned out to watch, socialize, and play. Kids chasing each other, teenagers were flirting, and adults were tryingto control their little monsters. It reminded me of a 4th of July picnic, large scale. 

My friend lives with a family, and the mother makes us dinner each night. It's much better than what I would make myself. Yet, she was embarassed to serve me at first, thinking I wouldn't like it. I wish I knew Hindi, because I can tell by their mannerisms and their eyes, the family is loving, fun, and intelligent.

For me, my short stay in Kachi Basti Tila 7B (name of the slum) has probably been the most interesting portion of my travels so far. It's not at all what I expected. I came in expecting danger and depressing circumstances. Instead, at least in this small part of the slum, I found genuinely nice and curious people, a different way of living, and even a couple friends. It was perhaps naive of me to think otherwise, but it's just reinforced the notion that people really are the same everywhere. The only real differences surround the style of living. And here, this style of life has caused me to inquire more into the injustices of social and economic systems. 

One more thing I feel grateful to take away from this experience is a lesson learned from their style of life. They get by just fine with so little convenience, though it's certainly not out of choice, for the most part. But they have to appreciate what little water they get and make the best uses of it. Because they live with the reality of it being a limited resource. This is the reality of the matter, though in the USA we are able to live without facing this reality because of our opulence. I hope to be more mindful of what a blessing our abundance of resources truly is, and do my best to conserve what I have, and not to waste. 

PS. I hope this doesn't sound condescending or preachy. It's not intended that way. Living in a slum for a few days is nothing, and doesn't give me some enlightened perspective on life. I'm spoiled that I can go in and out at will, and experience it almost as another form of "vacation," though that's not the best word for it. I have no idea what it's like to really live in one of these places. I'm approaching it from the only perspective I really know - my own. I found it very powerful and just wanted to share how fascinating it was for me, as best I can explain it in such a short space. 

Varanasi: Land of the Buddha

I took my first overnight train to Varanasi, 4 days ago. I rode what's called "3AC," meaning the 3rd tier with air conditioning. There are at least 2 classes above this and one below, though I was warned against the one below, "sleeper class," for safety reasons. I had my own bunk, a curtain, and a window. I loved it. I felt like I was in a cradle being rocked to sleep while we rolled 13 hours.

Immediately after getting off the train, the solicitors were waiting. Here, they are even worse than Delhi. Very pushy, very persistent. But you get used to it and just ignore them. Even saying "No, thanks" apparently gives them hope and attracts them. It's sad, because it basically means I can't acknowledge their existence without being harassed. I've been told by various people that 99.9% of them just want your money, despite whatever they say about not being guides, or how many times they call you friend. In the times I've let my guard down, I ended up finding the 99.9%. But that's the nature of tourism in countries like India. The money I make back home in a few days is what the average indian makes in a year. Knowing this, many try their best to pry just a tiny fraction of that from you using whatever means possible. For many of them, it's survival. I don't blame them. If anything, I view it as a luxury tax, paying more than the "Indian price" for food, transportation, etc. I'm lucky that I can afford it, and much more.

Before I traveled to Varanasi, I was aware of its status as a pilgrimage sit for Buddhists. Nearby is where the Buddha was enlightened, and where he gave his first teachings. I have read much about this over the years and was excited to see these places with my own eyes, to meditate where the buddha found his inspiration. Though I didn't get to see where he was enlightened, I did visit Sarnath, where he gave his teachings. I saw ruins of old monasteries and statues. It's crazy to think so many buildings were built to commemorate and continue his practice, but it was so long ago that they're all but gone. About 2,600 years of history. And yet his teachings are still going strong, albeit adulterated.

Much like in kathmandu, the Hindus burn their dead. My hostel is right next to the main burning "ghat," the place where this ceremony takes place. Again, I find myself very attracted to this process, this way of commemorating death. All except for dumping bodies in the Ganga, the holiest river in India, where Indians do pretty much everything: swim, bathe, fish, dump dead bodies, spill sewage, throw trash, wash clothes, drink, defecate... But the "purity" of the river, as far as I understand, explains away any potential problems with this apparently lethal combination of tasks.

Beside the river, I sit in hostel terrace. I hear cows mooing nearby, and see monkeys playing on the other roofs below. But what makes me smile big is all the small kites flying in the sky, dozens and dozens as far as I can see. You would think we were in a green park. But the kids play alone or with siblings on their own roofs.

One of the funniest and often most frustrating recurring experienced here is how impossible it is to get change. Say you eat a meal. It runs about 100 rupees. But all you have is a 500, since that's what the ATM's typically give (I won't even go into the 1000s). There's no way they have change for that. Right now, 500 is about $7-8. But rarely does an Indian carry that much. Usually the highest they have is a 50, maybe a 100 or two, and many 10s. This just speaks to what i said earlier about the average income. $8 is a ton of money. Sometimes even a 100 is hard to break. It still surprises me that even hostels that cater to Westerners operate in the same fashion, but that's just how it works.

Every day I write down 3 things I'm grateful for, in my journal. Yesterday, one was how grateful I am to live in a country that is much less corrupt than most, and holds moderately free and fair elections. If you know me and we've talked about politics, you know how critical I can be of the way the US government functions. It certainly has big problems. But when i compare it to what I've seen and read in India regarding its elections and "democracy," I consider myself incredibly lucky to live in such a place.

One last note. The next time you go to an Indian restaurant, if they have a "banana lassi," try it. You won't be disappointed. 

India: Out of the freezer and into the frying pan

Leh:

My first stop in India was Leh. When I told that to a couple Indians at the airport, they weren't sure where that was. It seemed like they hadn't heard of it. It makes sense, given that India is such a large country. But also since Leh is in the very far northwest region of India, in or near Kashmir (I'm still not sure which is accurate).

Leh is isolated, surrounded by mountains for miles and miles. It is also ringed with monasteries. It's a desert region, except that it's at over 11,000ft, so it's super cold when you're not in the sun. Sleeping was sometimes difficult, as there was not heat (rarely any electricity at all). But I had some really warm blankets.

Leh was incredible. Very chill, in part because tourist season was over and there were not a lot of people around. Most everyone I met was extremely friendly. The hostel was a family's home, with 3 children, and they were really cute. It was wonderful always having young laughter and smiles around :-)

I'm finding the same scenarios repeating themselves with each city/town. Again, I met a wonderful group of friends who had so much insight into places I plan on going. Again, the food was so cheap and amazing. And again, seeing the variety of cultural expressions is thought-provoking. This was particularly interesting in an area of conflict, where armed guards are always present, though they want to know you and take pictures with you. The people of this area are Buddhist, Hindu, and Muslim. Yet they seemed to blend together in a way that worked just fine. More acceptance than mere tolerance.

On a less deep note, speaking of repeating adventures, I rented another motorcycle. I road the most beautiful road I've ever seen, possibly with the exception of the 1 in California, though they're so different its hard to compare. Mountains split by a long river. Riding up to around 14,000ft to visit a secluded Buddhist monastery, of the Tibetan tradition. Lots of paintings and deep chanting that sounds almost sinister when it rings in unfamiliar ears. It was perfectly monotone. The French guys I rode with (met them randomly at the gas pump and decided to tag along) also tried to describe how it made them feel, but it was something none of us could express in words (English, French, or Spanish!)

Delhi:

Today I left the mountains behind, escaping the freezing nights, and am now bathing in Delhi's heat, around 90 degrees. Too hot for me! It's so hard to find that middle ground...

As soon as I landed and started walking to the part of town where I knew I'd find a hostel, I got conned into a rickshaw (I was being paranoid anyways - this guy was reeeally good to get through that barrier I put up). And of course he took me where HE wanted me to go - to his friend's travel agency - rather than my intended destination. On the surface, it looked legit. It wasn't too far from where I wanted, they gave out free maps, and it had "Government of India" written on the front. It was advertised as tourist information. So what the hell, I went in. People were friendly, initially. Gave me free info, offered me free hotel help, etc. They even offered to help book my train tickets, which I've heard are infamously difficult. So I accepted. Then he dropped the price for 4 trains: $312. What?! No way. I could FLY to all those places for that much. And I told him so. He disagreed. We looked it up, and I was right. So then he started taking down the price. I was already getting a bad feeling in my gut, and that confirmed it for me. I walked. And then found a hostel that booked it all for me for around $45. Yep. That's including their small commission. Worth it for me. Glad I went with my gut. Everyone who travels always repeats that: when in doubt, go with your gut. Hasn't failed me yet. I have a good gut. But it would be better with some chipotle in it...ahh I miss chipotle! But that's another story.

Saw some sights, avoided the same old people peddling one thing or another. And now am finally catching up on this blog.

I'm leaving on an overnight train to Varanasi tomorrow, one of the holiest cities in India. Should be fascinating. I believe it's also where the Buddha attained enlightenment. Maybe I can grab a small leaf off that aged tree :-)