Tulsi is such a chill environment - it's in the style of bungalows, with big benches at every table and beautiful fabrics that cover every bench. The tables are made out of natural pieces of wood that weren't cut or formed; there are natural wood sculptures around. Overhead are elephant-decorated lamps hanging down from the bamboo-thatched roof. I spend about 2 hours in there, eating breakfast and drinking my banana lassi.
Delphine and Jess are there, after receiving body massages, but leave shortly after for a yoga lesson. I sit for a while talking with the owner Amit. I compliment him on the great atmosphere of the place. He immediately asks ME for any of MY ideas on how to improve the place. I was so honored- that he wanted to hear my ideas!
I tell him something that might go well with the chill atmosphere is beanbags and maybe shisha. He mentions having a computer corner, a stone therapy massage table and a music/DJ corner. He owns another restaurant near the local gym and used to be an art teacher. He offers to make me some chai and talk. Hannah joins us and two of us have a great conversation while smoking beedies. Being alone, we are able to talk about the stress/tension that did actually exists this weekend, traveling with 5 people, Jess and Frenchie. I am able to confide in her that amanda stresses me out. Anyway, the two of us hit up the Ayurvedic medicinal centre, where I have a 30min, 45rps ear-cleansing and body balance purification. Amazing!
She pours this warm, soothing oil into my ear and plugs it up. It is supposed to clean out the body-balancing properties of the ear. I head straight to the guest house for my FULL body massage ! It is a bit awkward talking to Anook since I could barely hear out of my ear, still plugged with cotton. I do remember listening, much more in tune to my body with my ears plugged.
I had to take all my clothes off for my massage, except for my undies. The masseuse starts with each of my legs but was rubbing so firmly that I was gripping on to the edge of the bed! The best though was my lower back, I was groaning in relief because it was so tight before. Without warning, he pulls down my underwear and starts massaging my ass! How embarasssing!
He worked a little more on my back to finish.
All the girls were outside, so we decide to stay the afternoon and catch a bus back later that evening. We smoke a little more on the porch with Klaus and some new dreadlocked hippies, one with mental green eyes.
We pack up a little after that and head back to Tulsi for lunch and the rest of the afternoon.
Monday 13 April 2009
High Yoga
Started the day off right- with a yoga. Hehe!
I woke up around 6h30 and met Hannah and Amanda outside the Guest House. We walked down our mountain pathway to the tiny village down below. It was drizzling out, but a misty and cooling rain. We check out a few places for yoga and relaxation and find a place for breakfast. As we head back up the hill, Hannah and I decide we would ask the guys on the porch for some hashish. They tell us that Anook wasn't up yet but offered us some of their joint. And so begins our morning at 7h30 am, our morning ritual of wonderful marijuana...The way everyday should start...
The older dude introduces himself as Klaus and that he is Bavarian, but has a German passport. I've only seen Klaus sitting up on this porch, with his hair down, shirt off and always smoking something. He has long curly hair, crystal blue eyes, deep laugh liines and yellow decaying teeth. But man, can he talk! And talk and talk and talk..
I learn from him that both sugar and mushrooms are taking over the world...that ketchup is all sugar, and that sugar is what makes people addicted to cigarettes, not tobacco. Hmmmm...ok...
The other girls join us around the table, where the joints keep on circling, the conversation flowing (usually Klaus the Hippie talking, a monologue of philosophical accounts of the world),
and then rain is falling softly outside.
We talk about the Shantaram, Terence McKenna, mushrooms and documentaries. Conversation was never dull...
Around 9h30, we all excuse ourselves and head into the village. While the other girls go for breakfast, I catch a 200 rps yoga session downtown for about an hour and a half. It was wonderful. I was close to not doing any yoga at all, which would have been a shame considering I was in the Yoga Capital of the World. I strrrrrrretch out and get back into my yoga rhythm. At times, I was a bit lost and my instructor was certainly Nancy Guilardi but it will do. At the end of the session, we meditate in Shivassana position and I successfully meditate! Probably because I was still feeling that incredible high...
I medidate on the idea that life is a big black box and any problems or stresses or pains or anxieties that I feel, I can just push them out of the box and close it. And forget about it. So I did just that- in my head, I mentally pushed out all the little things that were bothering me on this trip and they just..stop bothering me. I still think about this visual space and how I can compartmentalize my problems and section and separate them to only focus on what really matters- which is me. Especially during yoga.
I actually think I fell asleep during the session because I relapsed somewhere between meditating and moving to our next position. Anyway, I thank my instructor and walk out into the monsoon rain up to Tulsi Restaurant to meet the girls.
I woke up around 6h30 and met Hannah and Amanda outside the Guest House. We walked down our mountain pathway to the tiny village down below. It was drizzling out, but a misty and cooling rain. We check out a few places for yoga and relaxation and find a place for breakfast. As we head back up the hill, Hannah and I decide we would ask the guys on the porch for some hashish. They tell us that Anook wasn't up yet but offered us some of their joint. And so begins our morning at 7h30 am, our morning ritual of wonderful marijuana...The way everyday should start...
The older dude introduces himself as Klaus and that he is Bavarian, but has a German passport. I've only seen Klaus sitting up on this porch, with his hair down, shirt off and always smoking something. He has long curly hair, crystal blue eyes, deep laugh liines and yellow decaying teeth. But man, can he talk! And talk and talk and talk..
I learn from him that both sugar and mushrooms are taking over the world...that ketchup is all sugar, and that sugar is what makes people addicted to cigarettes, not tobacco. Hmmmm...ok...
The other girls join us around the table, where the joints keep on circling, the conversation flowing (usually Klaus the Hippie talking, a monologue of philosophical accounts of the world),
and then rain is falling softly outside.
We talk about the Shantaram, Terence McKenna, mushrooms and documentaries. Conversation was never dull...
Around 9h30, we all excuse ourselves and head into the village. While the other girls go for breakfast, I catch a 200 rps yoga session downtown for about an hour and a half. It was wonderful. I was close to not doing any yoga at all, which would have been a shame considering I was in the Yoga Capital of the World. I strrrrrrretch out and get back into my yoga rhythm. At times, I was a bit lost and my instructor was certainly Nancy Guilardi but it will do. At the end of the session, we meditate in Shivassana position and I successfully meditate! Probably because I was still feeling that incredible high...
I medidate on the idea that life is a big black box and any problems or stresses or pains or anxieties that I feel, I can just push them out of the box and close it. And forget about it. So I did just that- in my head, I mentally pushed out all the little things that were bothering me on this trip and they just..stop bothering me. I still think about this visual space and how I can compartmentalize my problems and section and separate them to only focus on what really matters- which is me. Especially during yoga.
I actually think I fell asleep during the session because I relapsed somewhere between meditating and moving to our next position. Anyway, I thank my instructor and walk out into the monsoon rain up to Tulsi Restaurant to meet the girls.
Thursday 9 April 2009
Cockroaches
Houston, we have a problem. And it's staring me down with its little attenaes directly in the face....My first cockroach! Yuck! Figures that I'm bunking with Frenchie for the night when the two of us are useless when it comes to bugs, especially cockroaches.
My first thought is to get some help - I can't do this. Bugs just aren't my thing, especially when they're fat and slimy with long antennaes and you can't crush them. I go out on the porch and try to recruit the help of the hippies getting stoned out there, but to no avail. They just crack up at the idea of using a stick to kill it. Figures once again that the only people there to lend me a hand with our roach problem are high off..God knows what. They were pretty crazy.
So Frenchie decides that she'll be the one to take care of it by smacking it with her shoe. She is actually so adorable the way she deals with it cuz she has to talk herself through it as she smacks it with her shoe and screams. She misses the damn thing and it scurries under the armoir, waiting in hiding and ready to strike again when we're sleeping. Yuck.
I sleep on the hard piece of wood they call a bed, with a sheet over my head, paranoid about bugs.
My first thought is to get some help - I can't do this. Bugs just aren't my thing, especially when they're fat and slimy with long antennaes and you can't crush them. I go out on the porch and try to recruit the help of the hippies getting stoned out there, but to no avail. They just crack up at the idea of using a stick to kill it. Figures once again that the only people there to lend me a hand with our roach problem are high off..God knows what. They were pretty crazy.
So Frenchie decides that she'll be the one to take care of it by smacking it with her shoe. She is actually so adorable the way she deals with it cuz she has to talk herself through it as she smacks it with her shoe and screams. She misses the damn thing and it scurries under the armoir, waiting in hiding and ready to strike again when we're sleeping. Yuck.
I sleep on the hard piece of wood they call a bed, with a sheet over my head, paranoid about bugs.
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