If you came here thinking Mysore was some kind of zen place for yoga, and the experience would be a mystical retreat, with beautiful views, healthy food served three times daily and beautiful instructors and music, you’d be wanting to take another look at that brochure.
This post is part 2 of
Yoga Tourism, Am I being Duped? I think I have been duped about coming to Mysore to deepen my yoga experience, if you go on the physical practise alone. But I'm staying on. This has more to do with refusing to be beaten by India, when a slim chance I may prevail still exists. Score: Sue 4, India 123. It's all about the long game, I tell myself. But sometimes you have to surrender your shit, literally and metaphorically. Not like this guy, who is chipping away day in and out on this amazing rosewood table and still has a smile to light up a room. Humble pie.
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| chip away |
2 nights ago I made a deal with myself. I did the tally in my head and sat up in bed as it dawned on me.... Oh. I
am being screwed!! And not in a good way. The teaching is virtually nil, there's no philosophy or context for ashtanga yoga from the school built by the founder; shalas are overcrowded, adjustments are light-on, Saraswati has been away for a week, there's been 4 moon days and rest days - nearly a week of no practise...and there's no refund. No contract. No guarantees. I've come a long way for this. OK. So that's the tally of all the stuff that is not working for me (like India cares). One more session on the mat and if I still feel this way tomorrow I'm on the next bus to Bandipur National Park to hike with the elephants and tigers.
If paying an organisation for a month of 'yoga experience' was subject to market feedback, say Trip Advisor no-one would come to KPJAYI - but the reality is the Jois family are not in tourism nor on Trip Advisor. Ashtanga yoga practised daily is not a tourist experience - it's exactly the opposite of how travellers inquire, move, expect and search for the next exciting thing. Yoga is a lifestyle, at the heart of Indian thought and philosophy and religion. It's immersive, repetitive, inward, restorative, requiring both effort and stillness. It is characterised by no guarantees, lots of unknowns and nothing is ever the same. So trying to come to grips with the Mysore yoga experience through a tourism lens, is not helpful. There is no brochure, no promise of a good time, results and great teaching. Having a good time is optional. While I'm a bit underwhelmed with the 'KPJAYI experience', I was expecting to be a bit disappointed before I came. And here it is. I didn't buy an experience I bought an opportunity. That's it. The rest is kinda up to me, like, hate, show up, don't show up. My problem. Oh it's a tough lesson. Welcome to India and suck it up. Sue Lee 4. India 124.
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| how to go with the grain |
On the second coconut after class (“Make mine a double!” cries Alicia from New York) three of us stood around the coconut cart sharing random thoughts. Cincinatti is new in town and asks, “So, who’s bed is that in the shala?” And we all laugh cause we’ve seen it too. As it gets busier we are told to do yoga in offices, spare bedrooms, upstairs. The shala is like my dad’s old beach shack, the bathroom is a bit grotty, there are dodgy lace curtains, the floor has grit on it, and there’s mix n match bedroom furniture and chenille bedspreads don’t forget the fluro lights! Indians LOVE the fluro lighting. No mood lighting here, it’s full-on on or off. Welcome to Saraswati’s shala. And she’s not even here! We all chuckle at the absurdity of it, there’s no way you’d get away with this kind of 'service' at home, so why here? There’s not a lot you can do when you are here and acknowledge this creeping feeling that you’ve been ridden, a little bit, in a very endearing, head-waggle way.
So what is the 'authentic Indian tradition' anyway? Someone on the staff said, "this is your shala, you've got to love and respect your shala," and everyone was nodding saying Yeah! Yay! We love our shala! And I'm thinking Um, no it's not my shala. I'm not responsible for that bathroom. Telling someone what they must or must not feel is like asking the sea not to be salty. I'm waiting for something 'authentic' to kick in.
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| being incensed |
'Authenticity' is a marketing thing in tourism used to differentiate one tourism experience over another. It's so people can choose experiences that give them insight, not just surface tacky commercial experiences. Generally tourists pay more for authenticity to get away from the myth/stereotypes and learn about the culture they are in and themselves. Like walking tours of the backstreets of a place. Like funny stories about how essential oils are made, including natural amber (which smells AMAZING) that is apparently vomited by dolphins and formed in oceans. I don't even care if it's true, I'm sold. A lot of people are naturals at tourism, authenticity is not something you can fake.
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| Dolphin vomit |
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| 100% pure essential oils |
So if authenticity is non-engineered experiences, then by this definition the Shacky Shala and all it's grimy, gritty, fluorescent charms are also 'authentic'. Authentic shala grit. Plenty of that going around. Grrr. Sue 4, India 126. See how this goes?
Now it's kind of a game wondering what is going to happen in the Shacky Shala today? Each day I navigate the wall in front of my face, the bendy Euro guy with a dude-bun and something to prove, the argumentative American yoga teacher in a verbal stowsh with Saraswati, and a grunting Asian woman somersaulting into my head. What I'm learning here is I can practise anywhere,
anywhere, and get some benefit. My shala, your shala, shakky shala, the locker room, my kitchen. I don't really need a shala, but I won't deny, it's nice to have somewhere to go at 6.30, because I don't really need another excuse to stay in bed.
