This is the story of a bunch of tourists who wanted to go on a safari.
After a rather stressful departure (“We must hurry! Park closes at 9!”) we finally managed to lasso everyone in and made it to the “park”. Yes, the quotation marks are intentional as our safari should be really be described as a interminable Jeep ride looking at lots of animal poop. There was deer poop, wild boar poop, elephant poop, and possibly other species of poop which our nice hindi-only speaking guide could not identify, and therefore not get us excited about. Maybe I am being unfair: we did see some animals, mostly birds and deer, but Hélène summed it up really well when she said that she’d seen some just like that at the Parc de Boucherville…
While we took tons of pictures of us looking very Out-of-Africaesque coated in road dust wearing our scarves as head gear, the highlight of the safari was really when they made us climb into a wooden structure overlooking the landscape, and we may have seen either buffalos, or poor Indian workers hired by the Indian Government to look like buffalos, in the distance. I know, how jealous are you right now?
We then made it back to the ashram, and Hélène and I decided to go try a 100 Rs yoga class at a nearby hotel that had been highly recommended by a couple of fellow Quebecers we had met the day before.
I don’t usually find male yogis attractive: while I can appreciate a man who breathes and bends and is open to the wisdom that yoga can bring, I also always kind of wonder if they didn’t get into yoga either to score chicks, or other men who got into yoga to score chicks. Maybe I am cynical, but having been married to a man for 20 years, and having given birth to two, I think I know a little something about the male species. Swami Yoganan notwithstanding, yoga bliss is not a natural state for most men I know.
Enter Surinder Singh. Or, as we have come to call him, Surrender Singh…
Surrender is a very handsome Indian man, with a huge silky beard and hypnotic eyes. His English was pretty good, but even if it hadn’t, I’m pretty sure most of his female students would still show up. The class was good, the teaching solid, but what made it special was the way he would come over and twist and bend you a little deeper (wait… that sounds way more fun than it actually was, but you get my drift) and then give you a thumbs up and a huge smile once he had managed to push you far enough. I was surprised that he would actually touch us, as typically Indian men don’t touch non-related women, but then again we found out that he has been teaching for a very long time and that people come from all over the world to train with him. He also integrated more chanting and singing into his class, which will sound odd to most of you non-yogis but it was absolutely lovely.
So lovely in fact that when we met up with the rest of the group, (young and fresh ) A.-R. looked at us strangely and asked what we had been doing in class. It seems we looked as though we had just had successful sexy time, which in a way we had I guess; )
Three things I am grateful for today:
1- No meat or alcohol in 8 days, and I almost don’t miss them. Almost.
2- Excited about my ayurvedic massage tomorrow.
3- Had my laundry done, 10 rupees a piece. Wonder if they’d deliver in Greenfield Park?
After a rather stressful departure (“We must hurry! Park closes at 9!”) we finally managed to lasso everyone in and made it to the “park”. Yes, the quotation marks are intentional as our safari should be really be described as a interminable Jeep ride looking at lots of animal poop. There was deer poop, wild boar poop, elephant poop, and possibly other species of poop which our nice hindi-only speaking guide could not identify, and therefore not get us excited about. Maybe I am being unfair: we did see some animals, mostly birds and deer, but Hélène summed it up really well when she said that she’d seen some just like that at the Parc de Boucherville…
While we took tons of pictures of us looking very Out-of-Africaesque coated in road dust wearing our scarves as head gear, the highlight of the safari was really when they made us climb into a wooden structure overlooking the landscape, and we may have seen either buffalos, or poor Indian workers hired by the Indian Government to look like buffalos, in the distance. I know, how jealous are you right now?
We then made it back to the ashram, and Hélène and I decided to go try a 100 Rs yoga class at a nearby hotel that had been highly recommended by a couple of fellow Quebecers we had met the day before.
I don’t usually find male yogis attractive: while I can appreciate a man who breathes and bends and is open to the wisdom that yoga can bring, I also always kind of wonder if they didn’t get into yoga either to score chicks, or other men who got into yoga to score chicks. Maybe I am cynical, but having been married to a man for 20 years, and having given birth to two, I think I know a little something about the male species. Swami Yoganan notwithstanding, yoga bliss is not a natural state for most men I know.
Enter Surinder Singh. Or, as we have come to call him, Surrender Singh…
Surrender is a very handsome Indian man, with a huge silky beard and hypnotic eyes. His English was pretty good, but even if it hadn’t, I’m pretty sure most of his female students would still show up. The class was good, the teaching solid, but what made it special was the way he would come over and twist and bend you a little deeper (wait… that sounds way more fun than it actually was, but you get my drift) and then give you a thumbs up and a huge smile once he had managed to push you far enough. I was surprised that he would actually touch us, as typically Indian men don’t touch non-related women, but then again we found out that he has been teaching for a very long time and that people come from all over the world to train with him. He also integrated more chanting and singing into his class, which will sound odd to most of you non-yogis but it was absolutely lovely.
So lovely in fact that when we met up with the rest of the group, (young and fresh ) A.-R. looked at us strangely and asked what we had been doing in class. It seems we looked as though we had just had successful sexy time, which in a way we had I guess; )
Three things I am grateful for today:
1- No meat or alcohol in 8 days, and I almost don’t miss them. Almost.
2- Excited about my ayurvedic massage tomorrow.
3- Had my laundry done, 10 rupees a piece. Wonder if they’d deliver in Greenfield Park?
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