Bhakti Chanting, Sanskrit and Mythology

Out of the mountain of our yoga teacher training study materials, I was immediately drawn to the chanting books; Bhakti or devotional chanting, which I love. We sing the invocation to Patanjali every day, and it’s nice to begin asanas with this familiar chant that I know well from many Iyengar yoga classes back home.

For the first week, we have an hour of chanting in the morning, sometimes accompanied by the beat of tabla drums. Our voices are all a bit rusty and querulous to begin with as we get used to the melodies, but Yogi Sivadas‘ rich, deep voice fills the sunny room and we soon let go of our shyness or self judgment as we join in with the ancient chants.

My Sanskrit scribbles!

Repeated chanting improves concentration and is extremely calming, physically and mentally, as your brain focuses only on the words and the tune. Devotional chanting to the deities (and it doesn’t matter which religion or belief system you have; they’re all here, including Buddha, Moses, Jesus, Jehovah, Allah, Shiva, Ganesh, and more), when sung with intention, can create a peaceful mind. I took my blood pressure before this morning’s chanting: 199/97 with a pulse rate of 69. After an hour of chanting: 129/80 and pulse of 59.

Slightly less calming (i.e. challenging!) are our Sanskrit lessons. “Sanskrit” means well written, or purely written, and is an Indo-Persian tree of language that evolved around 30,000 years ago. We start to learn the basics of the sounds and letters – who knew there were so many ways to pronounce the sounds ‘s’ and ‘sh’! We practice lines and lines of squiggles and dots, repeating them out loud as we write.

Yogi Sivadas writes our names in Sanskrit

Yogi Sivadas writes our names on the board in Sanskrit and they look so pretty, it encourages us to keep on squiggling. He tells us that even if we find it difficult, the very act of focusing your mind on something new in an attempt to learn something, is good exercise for the brain, and you will benefit from that, regardless of the results of the studying. And when he tells us that the Sanskrit word, “cittrashalabh” translates as “insect painting” or “insect art”, doesn’t that sound much more beautiful and poetic than the English word, butterfly?

Our daily studies are peppered with colourful analogies, as Yogi Sivadas explains some yoga philosophy concepts through yoga mythology and allegories. I am constantly reminded of how rich and mystical this culture is, making our own Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty seem dull, by comparison!

Little Tibet: Settling In

Vibrant and happy yoga room

Loving it here! It’s a combination and contrast of chaos and peace! Goats, dogs, cows, bikes, tuk tuks, taxis and people, all claiming possession of the narrow main street; vehicles missing you by millimetres as their horns blast loudly in your ears.

And then inside our tranquil little yoga school perched on the mountain, there are these idyllic vistas across the valley;
sometimes clear, mostly misty; nesting eagles and naughty monkeys.

View from my balcony

Every time we leave our little bubble of peace and venture up the hill and into the street, it’s a yoga practice of maintaining a sense of calm amidst the confusion of the street. Like those annoying noises and distractions while you’re in Savasana.

The goats LOVE eating the adverts off the walls!

The big change of culture is quite an overload on the senses as I keep taking in the many  quaint and peculiar characteristics. I’m delighted every time I see a Tibetan monk in their burgundy or saffron robes,  and I laugh at the goats in the road, chomping at the billboard stickers pasted to the building walls.

Tibetan monks in my local grocery store

I know Mcleod Ganj is the home of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, but I didn’t realize how big the Tibetan community is here, and it feels more like a Little Tibet than India. I’ve hung Tibetan prayer flags on my balcony; vibrant patches of yellow, green, red, white and blue greet me as I start my day. Hard to believe I’ve easily slipped into the routine of waking up at 5:45am as I’m not exactly a morning person. The mornings are peaceful and each day’s view from my balcony is different. Human beings whose dance music pumped across the valley late into the night are still asleep, while the birds are awake and welcoming the day. Their calls and cackles are interspersed with the occasional mooing of cows.

Yoga studies are in full force as we start to make our way through the mountain of books on yoga philosophy, therapy, Sanskrit language, physiology, anatomy, Sutra, chakras and more.

Yikes! That’s a lot of studying!

Asana practice (4 hours a day) is a mixture of Mysore vinyasa and traditional Hatha yoga poses and we ease into it as our bodies recover from jet lag and adjust to the altitude. The first few days were mostly misty and raining and then there was a magical moment when the clouds cleared and we stepped out onto the long balcony to do a series of Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana poses, one foot up on the railing, arms to the sky, gazing out towards the mountains and smiling at the beauty of the scenery and how lucky we are to be here.

Daily Checklist:
1. Lock door so the monkeys can’t get in
2. Switch off water heater to save energy
3. Don’t absentmindedly brush teeth with tap water

Delhi to Dharamsala and McLeod Ganj

Good morning, Delhi! A comfortable, clean and quiet night at the Lemon Tree Hotel, just 5-10 minutes away from the airport. I’d recommend this as an easy overnight stay, especially if you’re arriving or leaving late at night.

I flew to Dharamsala with domestic airline, SpiceJet, which I thought won first prize for a fab name for a local airline (and then I spotted IndiGo as a close contender).

The taxis had Om, Ganesh or Shiva on their windows 🙂

Airplane views of the Dharamsala area showed rolling green hills dotted with houses and trees. A row of official taxis waited at the quaint little airport and I hopped into one decorated with an Om sign and Ganesh on the rear window.

Wild taxi ride to McLeod Ganj

The drive started off with some charming landscapes, the occasional group of cows or goats suddenly appearing in the middle of the road, people standing in doorways and watching as we drove past.

And then, “the heavens opened” was an understatement for the torrential downpour that made our rain storms in Florida look like Irish mist. Okay, this confirms I’ve arrived in monsoon weather. As we made our way on the steep ascent to Mcleod Ganj, peering through the blurry windscreen, I was more entertained than panicked, because the driver was excellent; throwing the gear stick into different positions and revving or braking as he swerved around people and animals, squeezed past oncoming cars, hauled the jeep around hairpin bends and ploughed through rivers of chai tea coloured muddy water gushing down from the mountains.

Impressive stuff. At one point we lurched past a sign that read, “Only for car and jeep” – yes, because the goats have given it up as a bad idea a long time ago!

We stopped at the bright yellow and red sign for the Kailash Tribal School of Yoga. It was still Noah and ark weather as I lugged my huge suitcase down the narrow stairway, teetering down the mountainside, to meet Yogi Sivadas, our yoga teacher and founder of the school.

I was soaked through, but laughing and happy to be here, as he welcomed me and showed me my cosy little yogi cottage; complete with second-chakra-orange doors and cheerful pink and blue bedding.  Included in his welcome was a warning to watch out for the mischievous monkeys, who “come looking for food and if you leave your door open they’ll have a party in your room – but they’ll also have a poop party there.”

The cheerful room in my yogi cottage

I stood on my balcony, wondering what the view out over the valley would look like once the weather had cleared, and thinking about what the next 6 weeks of yoga adventure will bring.