BLAST OFF!

   

     We've now arrived at the "Blast Off!" stage of my journey. Up until this point, Alaska, Hawaii, and my 2 years of building were mere puddle jumps compared to what was coming. They were essential to my path, but now it was time to go fullIndiana Jones. I had all the pieces I needed. I had my Associates degree in Massage therapy, was a certified Yoga teacher, and had a bit of a nest egg tucked away from having worked three jobs for the past 2 years. My launch pad was ready.

    After having become extremely involved in the Yoga culture, community, and teachings - I began to feel that the more I learned, the more I realized I didn't know anything. This feeling began subtly then proceeded to nag at me deeper and deeper. I began to sense that I was bastardizing this practice (Yoga) from the East. Something the West has a track record of doing. Maybe all the Yoga classes that I was teaching were completely out of touch with the true essence of what it was. Maybe I was misrepresenting this practice that was far bigger then me. I questioned myself. Was I a fraud? These feelings led me to understanding what I needed to do and where I needed to go next. I needed to go to the birth place of Yoga. I needed to taste the fruit directly from the vine, not some processed fruit juice that comes out the other end. With that in mind, I enrolled in a 500 Hour Ashtanga teacher training in the "Yoga capital of the world" - Rishikesh, India. Naturally, I bought a one way ticket. Houston, we are ready for lift off!

    I sold the last of my remaining material items and said goodbye to friends and family, not being able to tell them when I would return. I'd like to say that my heart was heavy during this process of preparing to leave, but that would be a lie. I was fucking excited. Goodbyes can be a mixture of discomfort, pain, and bittersweetness. However, the negative feelings that come from repressing ones dreams and settling for less far outweighs this. With that said, and without further adieu, I was off.

    I arrived in Dehradun, India jet lagged and discombobulated. The first signs that I was no longer "home", a word that at this point has an evading meaning, was when I disembarked from the plane and headed directly to the restroom. No westernized toilets. Just holes in the ground. Indian style toilets require one to squat down in order to properly, shall we say, let things go. Realizing that I'm stating the obvious, the squatting position allows for easy "waste removal". I can't believe that we in the west stepped away from this technique. Anyways. I love cultural slaps in the face such as this. That feeling when you realize that a whole population of people is living a completely different life, in different ways, with different systems and perspectives than you. It's like peeking through a window and discovering a totally new way of being - of seeing. Even something as simple (but important) as using the toilet. The road has shown me that bathrooms and grocery stores are two wonderful ways to receive a glimpse into a society or culture... and no, they aren't connected.

    Upon leaving the Dehradun airport, I hopped in a taxi. While slumping into the seat, still getting my bearings straight, I said to the taxi driver, "Rishikesh please". Of course I was absolutely butchering the proper pronunciation and had to repeat myself many times. My naive english tongue wasn't use to these twists and turns of a new language, especially Hindi. Onwards we drove.

    I began to take in the new environment. My senses were bombarded with new smells, sights, and sounds. A few observations from that first taxi ride:

• I found the traditional clothes of the Indian women, a Sarong, to be mesmerizingly beautiful.
  
• Not so beautiful, but still mesmerizing, were the consistent piles of burning trash.
  
• The constant noise was overwhelming at first. So much so that I couldn't think clearly.
  
• Lastly, and maybe most importantly, I couldn't take my eyes off of all the new and exciting foods that we passed while zig zagging through the streets. Many people warned me that my western stomach wouldn't be able to handle the new foods and spices, that I should start slow and small with my portions. Absolutely not. I was going to dive in the first chance I got.
  

    As we left the city of Dehradun, the taxi began to wind up, down, and around the hills that outskirted the city. I could no longer keep my eyes open. I felt that in any moment I was going to puke. I'd have to wait until my arrival to continue to take in any more of the stimulating scenery.

    After a nauseating trip, I slipped the driver his rupees and made my way to the reception of the Yoga shala that I'd be living and training in for the next few months. The receptionists (soon to be friends whom I'd come to share some crazy stories with) showed me to my room. As I set my bag down, the reality of the situation finally started to hit me. I remember saying to myself, "Corey, you're in India!". Finally, having a bed to lay on (which in reality was more of a cushioned piece of wood), I plopped down and within moments fell into a deep slumber. A specific type of slumber that can only happen from jet lag, confusion, sleep deprivation, and complete cultural discombobulation. Having arrived early in the morning, I slept through the whole afternoon. I would have probably slept the whole day through but the grumbles of my stomach said otherwise. After refreshing myself with a much needed shower, I did what I always do when I'm in a new place. I wandered.

    I wandered freely, letting my curiosity take me where it saw fit, which it turns out was to any and every food stall or restaurant. I had no reservations about anything. I tried all of the new tantalizing foods that I could manage to fit inside my stomach. Samosas, panipuri, paratha, roti, aloo chaat, masalas, and various dosas. I loved every single bite. For me, traveling across the globe purely to bask in new foods and spices already makes a journey worthwhile. I guess that makes me a "Foodie". My taste buds are tingling as I write this. These foods probably mean nothing to most of you reading this, which is why I implore you to go and Google image search these foods after reading this. Two words. Food porn.

    As I wandered, I quickly observed that many people weren't wearing shoes. I too joined in on this naked foot revolution. I'd end up not wearing shoes during the months that I'd spend there. I remember when I first left and found it so strange to once again be clothing my feet. It wasn't like this in every city, but in Rishikesh it was definitely a thing. You just had to be careful not to step in the ever present piles of cow shit that at times coated the street. That's another thing. Cows are considered sacred according to Hinduism, the dominant religion in India, thus they roam the streets freely. There was one cow who I always had to fend off from my morning fruit bowl. If I looked away for even a moment, I'd be sneak attacked from the flank, discovering my moo friend slurping up my breakfast right in front of me. They always had a playful and innocent demeanor. They were big ole cuddle puddles who didn't realize how ginormous they really were. Moving on.

    I found a busy area, a bench to sit on, and ordered my first of many chai teas. I watched the new world around me. I witnessed many scenarios play out before me that would have been considered crazy had it been anywhere else. For example: The flow of traffic and its rules, or lack thereof. I couldn't understand it. The streets seemed to be a cluster fuck of chaos. Cars, pedestrians, scooters carrying families of five, and cows all moved according to their own agenda. There didn't seem to be a left or right lane, just one giant amoeba of movement. Skepticism aside, it worked. In fact, I never saw an accident during my whole time there. Apart from one or two, which I, the ignorant foreigner was apart of. On first observations India seemed to be an organized chaos that had its own rules and ways of functioning. Colors, smells, wealth, poverty, constant noise, inner peace, Gurus, charlatans that catered to unknowing tourists (me), spirituality, the caste system (some say the caste sysyem is dieing but accroding to some local friends I made, it still very much exists) the list could go on. It was everything all at once. As I pondered these things I noticed I had a cow and dog on my left and a monkey on my right. I just started laughing. As Dorthy from The Wizard of OZ said, "I'm no longer in Kansas."

    I had a few days before my Ashtanga teacher training would begin. I began to befriend the other students who had travelled from all over the world to take part in the same course as me. I spent those days slow, trying to soak up everything around me so that I could be somewhat settled in before the intense and rigid training schedule would began. The schedule looked something like this:

• 5:30am - 6:30am Pranayama (Breathing techniques)
  
• 7am - 9am Asana (the physical practice of Yoga)
  
• 10am - 11:30am Breakfast
  
• 1pm - 2pm Yoga Nidra (Yoga of the subconscious mind)
  
• 2pm - 3pm Chai tea time
  
• 3pm - 4:30pm Philosophy
  
• 5pm - 7pm Asana (again!)
  
• 7:30pm - 9pm Dinner
  
• 9:30pm - 10pm Guided Meditation
  

    As you can see, this wasn't some glamorous Yoga retreat (which many other students had expected), this was the real deal. I'd come to find out that each day would be grueling - physically and mentally. Especially since the training was taking place in the height of Indias summer. Furthermore, all of my experiences (internal and external) and the people whom I'd come to meet in India, would play key roles in what happens in my future endeavors. You never know how one decision will lead to another. How random unconnected happenings can blossom into situations that you'd never imagined finding yourself in. It's a prime example of "The Butterfly effect" - The phenomenon whereby a minute localized change in a complex system can have large effects elsewhere. This training, the people, and my experiences in India would forever change my life course, impacting the future of my world travels and the "career" I'd eventually fall into.

A monkey, a baba, a cow, a dog, and me...