Walking into My Old Life

Just when I arrived, I was talking with my dear friend Alin and she asked me, if this was like walking into my old life. I had a pretty good jetlag at that moment, so I wasn’t able to answer her properly, but actually coming back here is a bit like getting my old life back. Some things have changed, but so many good, old things are still here.

This time my place is absolutely perfect. And remember that Indian perfect is very different thing than Western perfect. I got this place through my Australian friend Deva, who unfortunately isn’t here right now, because she flew out of the country on that day, when I arrived. I have here certain luxuries of life, which are hard to find in Mysore. My friend Maria went totally nuts, when she saw that I have a washing maschine. Yes, I have a blender, electricity, soon internet connection and lovely Sakhi, my maid. My place is bigger than I have ever had in my life. I even have a little living room. I am sharing this place with Bernice, Malaysian girl, who is very friendly. So after my horrible booking problems related to my accomodation, I landed very nicely in Mysore (they forgot to pick me up from the airport in Bangalore, but that’s just India).

But Mysore isn’t so much about my place for me, it’s more about my friends here. They really make this place to feel like my home. It was so nice to come back, walk on the streets, when people were calling after me and I saw many surprized faces. Where have you been? When did you arrive? How long you are here for? What’s your practice time? Can we do lunch, breakfast, anything? Gosh, I have missed you! And when I went to my regular cafés, restaurants and shops, Indians were greeting me in a similar way and asking, how long I am going to stay. And when I went to a coconut stand, where all we yogis spend so much time here, I got the most amazing smile from Prasad, who is cutting the coconuts open for us. He is so sweet.

Then I went to get registered. This is part of the landing process, too. You have to have your photo, copy of your passport and visa. And the shala fee, which I never manage to get right, so I always have to go back there and give them more money. Usha, Sharath’s personal assistant, is taking care of the registration and first time, when I arrived, I thought that she had no idea about customer service. This time I knew, that this is just Indian style and because this wasn’t my first time here, I got a little smile from her.

I got my practice time, which is so late. 9 a.m! That’s so late in Mysore, last time I was finally with the first group and my time was around 3.30 a.m. But this trip is a new story and I have to live with that practice time. Practice time sort of decides the schedule of your day. What time you eat, with who you can hang out most, what time you go to bed etc. It’s funny, but it’s true.

I saw my riksha driver Apu and got my first bike lift from my friend Arne. It’s just so great feeling to feel the wind in my hair, when getting around with bikes. I never get bored with that feeling. Dealing with the riskha drivers is another story, such a headache, so I prefer to use my regular driver.

So my card in my hand, my arm over my mat, my friends around me and Sharath in the room, I am ready to start this season and check out, what my second home is willing to offer me this time. Bells on, would Aimee say!