under the southern cross

2008-04-27T17:53:00.002+12:00

So many people in my life are struggling with either potentially compromising health issues or career problems - or both, sometimes compounded with tricky personal stuff to boot. It really seems to be a rough kind of life out there.

These days I wake up and try again and again each day to remind myself that, in fact, this seems to be the way life actually is. Life is suffering. In one way or another this is the truth - a Noble Truth in fact. Without reminding ourselves of this simple concept we can easily fall into an awful trap - believing that life can be any other way. Or, more damagingly, that life should be some other way. This is not to exclude joy or wellbeing - we can have that too, on many levels. As we change and the world around us changes however, even these things are transient - in themselves therefore potential sources of pain, discomfort, disappointment and suffering. Accepting this scenario as the likely reality is in many ways not only the path of least resistance but also a beginning of wisdom and a path to a fuller joy. Right now, to me this seems to be our reason here.

One way and another I have ended up back in Mysore again! After Dad and R left I stayed and am still here. I am of course practicing yoga - but am not with any of the teachers here, preferring instead to practice at home in my little apartment. It's very simple and Indian - complete with neighbours next door running a dairy operation. Cue calves being born in the night, 530am milking sessions and a lone sheep which will not shut up! Will be here until the end of May. Then it will be up to the North - to meet an old flatmate who is coming in for a bit of a travel around - starting and finishing in Mumbai. When she has gone home I will have a bit of solo trip into southern Gujarat.

In July and August I have arranged to do another internship in Jaipur, Rajasthan, with a similar Microfinance NGO to the one I spent time with in Hyderabad. Apparently it will have cooled off a little up there by that time. At the moment it is in the high 40sC. I will be very interested to gain a little insight into the different state of development that the Self Help Group model of MF has reached in Rajasthan. Andhra is the flagship state as far as this goes - elsewhere in the country it is relatively early days and Rajasthan is well known as one of the more culturally conservative states. So, a different context altogether. I will be working with the Centre for Microfinance in Jaipur. Anyone who fancies a visit while I am there will be more than welcome - though at the moment I am not sure of the accommodation situation. Obviously I am aiming to be comfortable...

Decisions decisions

2008-04-05T18:49:00.002+13:00

Well, at the moment I am in the process of making a few decisions about the future...which means that as well as the next few weeks I am also thinking a bit longer term. This is a departure from the practice, assiduously cultivated over the last 2 years, of not thinking any further ahead than the next cup of tea.

I may be able to spend a bit more time working in the field of microfinance here in India, as I did late last year, but at the moment the arrangement is not set in stone. Should find out this weekend. Either way, the India trip is going to be over mid June since the Indian consulate in Colombo only gave me a 3 month visa...for reasons known only to themselves they had initially printed out and stuck into my passport a 6 month multi-entry, then thought better of it and amended the document by hand. Yawn. So, whatever happens I think this is going to be it for the travels, wanderings and full time loafing. As I said to my father, who was visiting here last week with my younger brother, I can feel a wave of expediency coming on. In the past this has been a good guide to my choices and motivation regarding work, living arrangements and so on.

Before leaving India I will make sure to knock off a couple of the big sights - otherwise what will I tell people I was doing? - and pack in some more yoga. At the moment back into rising at 530am for a couple of hours practice with a different teacher here - more chanting and meditation mixed in than I am used to, feels pretty good though I have to confess that, in true Western style, I am more interested in the physical side of yoga and will revert to previous practice style once I move on after June.

2008-03-22T17:14:00.005+13:00

Coming into land from Colombo to Bangalore was a little disconcerting. The new Airbus that Air Sri Lanka are flying has the usual inflight map displaying where you are and when you'll arrive, but it also has a camera mounted on the nose cone, just above the front landing flood lights. So, you literally get to watch the plane come into land. This includes the drop through the clouds, the appearance in the distance of the minute, illuminated runway far ahead in the distance and also the tiny, constant adjustments to course that the pilot is making to keep this thing in a straight line. The fact that the aircon had played up on the plane, not really working and causing a delay in takeoff of an hour or so meant that, despite 2 months acclimatisation in Sri Lanka to high humidity and steamy temperatures, I was already sweating before my eyes strayed to the screen and noticed how the white lines shooting underneath the plane were doing a bit of weaving as well as shooting. And of course it's all happening pretty fast. Reality check. Getting those things onto the ground safely is a bit of a struggle. The reminder of impending arrival in India had begun some minutes earlier though, above the imperfect cloud cover. Whole blocks of the city seemed at one point to be flashing on and off in the darkness - power cuts rippling across this hub of hi-tech commerce. Where the power was on the shimmer of streetlights combined with the passing invisible clouds to resemble the skin of a cuttlefish, pulsing dots of light, fading and growing patches of colour, light and dark, some kind of magical bio-luminescent trick to distract and confuse.

It's only a 1 hour flight and such a short trajectory allows easy appreciation of the contrasts between these two countries. Sri Lanka with, for the tourist at any rate, its veneer of normality, beauty and ease provided by lush tropical countryside, cute colourful beach side fishing villages, golden sand and shyly smiling, somewhat moribund locals and India with the squalor, energy, purpose, drabness and crush of hundreds of millions of souls tripping over each others' airport trolleys, talking on their mobile phones to get the price of BSE Sensex shares or the price of milk that the local dairy co-op is paying and trying to push in front of you. Both democracies, badly flawed at that as most seem to be, these two countries present to the world two very different versions of themselves. India really is an open book - even if someone wanted to try and control what comes out of this country, whatever committees and boards, authorities and panels, institutions and departments, rules, laws and regulations might be put in place wouldn't stand a hope of containing, shaping, controlling or stopping anything that originates from within these borders. With Sri Lanka on the other hand the tourist veneer mostly conceals the detail of a tragic and viciously conflicted island nation. Sinhala nationalism (ie racism) has reduced essentially the whole country to a state of desperate poverty of hope. Except for the few at the top of course. While the Gini co-efficient for the two countries might show that India has (somewhat) greater income distribution inequality (0.4 vs 0.45 - 1 is perfect income distribution), what Sri Lanka loses in unequal distribution it more than makes up for in the proportion of people stuck forever in the lower, though not extreme, reaches of income poverty. This is partially mitigated by the fact that almost everyone in Sri Lanka can read and write, something that only about 50% of Indians can do after the education system is finished with them (if it ever gets started). But it is the war, the elephant in the corner on holiday with you in Sri Lanka, which most clearly illustrates both the callousness of the Sri Lankan ruling elite and the indifference of the international community to this country where no material resources are on offer. An expatriot in the country of some 10 years or so recently told me a story of happenings just 2 hours north of the capital, events witnessed by the inhabitants of a muslim fishing village. These locals have begun to mount their own patrols in the jungle around their village because Sri Lankan Army soldiers from the base nearby have repeatedly come to the village at night while on patrol and abducted young women and girls. In the nearby jungle they are raped and then left to wander in the night. The villagers patrol with machetes. When they catch a soldier he is hacked to death.

Towards the end of one of their night patrols, meeting my dinner companion on the beach, these villagers told a story which explained why all schools on the island had been unexpectedly closed down a few days earlier. Being Muslim, and therefore Tamil, these people have connections to communities within the territory controlled by the LTTE. Last week the villagers were disturbed during their morning routines by Sri Lankan Air Force jets and gunships flying in low overhead from the sea. In pairs, over a period of about 4 hours these aircraft on bombing and strafing runs were apparently responding to information that the leader of the LTTE, Velupillai Pirapaharan, was hiding underneath a school somewhere. These jets were dropping bombs on schools and the helicopters were coming in to clean up after them. Obviously no advance warning was given. The next day, perhaps wisely as a precaution, the government ordered all schools on the island to close in case an angry LTTE cadre decided to strap on one of those special vests and go to work.

All this is neither to portray the government in a bad light versus the LTTE - who are equally poisonous, to put it bluntly - nor to suggest that this conflict is any worse than others in many places around the world. Indeed the whole story could be apocryphal. However the bottom line is that even if it is wrong or simply a rumour something identical could happen there and no-one would ever hear about it. That is how tight the vacuum of control is in Sri Lanka over information and access, freedom of speech and international scrutiny. The same thing would be reported and examined from every quarter in India - even if it could happen in the first place.

Back in the mix

2008-01-13T17:53:00.000+13:00

So, Mysore has again been good. Was pretty washed out after the Hyderabad thing and the aborted travels in north Andhra - took a while to get sorted but the yoga has been good and have really enjoyed meeting new folk here as usual - some great Aussies and Canadians this time.

Off to Sri Lanka in a week, looking forward to some surf and beach.

Back on Facebook for those interested in such inanities.........

2007-12-25T19:44:00.000+13:00

This blogging thing has dropped off a bit hasn't it.

I am back in Mysore for a few days now simply because up in northern Andhra things were so booked and busy I spent one afternoon 'touring' over a dozen hotels just to find a roof for the night - which I managed - and then spent 3 hours the next day to secure a berth on an overnight train. No need to force it so I hopped back here for a bit of peace and quiet. And it is quiet which is a blessing.

Such things reveal to me that though I may have more patience than ever previously (believe it or not), the stock is still very much exhaustible and even pulled into deficit sometimes which is, to be honest, a very unattractive place for patience to dwell.

Cue extremely moody dealings with all encoutered in the public space - rickshaw drivers trying to squeeze a few rupees more out of me because they think the backpack looks heavy, hotel owners who try charging a tenner for a room worth about GBP1.50 and won't deign to make eye contact, fruit juice sellers who just want to sell you (tap) water with fruit fragrance included. Yes, even cinema staff who want to remove your carefully chosen snack and drink and force you to buy their revolting over-sweet drinks and whatnot. It was I, the very annoyed individual, who made a fool of myself in front of probably a hundred people plus in a cinema lobby in Hyderabad just the other day when confronted, tired, emotional and hungry, with just such a scenario I did not hold back, even though I should. Not very dignified. Indeed, not very dignified for two reasons - because unfortunately shouting actually gets you somewhere here a lot of the time which is not a good thing to have worked out and also because Indians by and large are acutely embarrassed by being harangued whether or not they have well and truly earned it. The fact that one can thus coerce and embarrass people with relative impunity is of course due to many different factors in Indian culture. After the fact it is easy to feel uncomfortable about these outbursts. However I console myself with a couple of rebuttals in mind. First, that for the most part I am more than respectful to people here even when they are taking the piss and second that when one does come across an instance of courtesy, kindness, respect or 'good service' (in inverted commas simply to distinguish it as being part of the management-speak which should be clearly recognised as a special compartment of English for describing things within the artifically constructed world of business English as opposed to actual English - where meaning can be traced back centuries and actually stands for something while pretending otherwise as opposed to seeming ethically neutral whilst being totally amoral) it is such a pleasant experience, makes everyone's day better and proves that some people are just bloody-minded, ignorant or simply desperate and you can't always work out which one in time to prevent yourself being a total dick.

So, in amongst it all I did manage a few days up near the Araku valley, at around 3000ft a little cooler and a lot greener than the plains of AP. Did some strolling around quiet valley roads, riding on local buses with weathered, dark, partially clothed tribal women with 3 or 4 large gold rings in each nostril, often with a child in a sling on their front and a couple of live chickens in hand and seemingly oblivious to the sideways glances of disgust/shame given them by good self-respectin' 16 year old Salwaar clad hindu girls going home from school, their perfectly black, oiled and plaited hair decked with the customary little strand of flowers on the hair clip at the back and contrasting with the greying frizz and disarray of the hill-women's fashion statements. Oh, and visited somehuge caves tucked away in the hills and 'discovered' by some Britisher in 1807, although of course humans had been living there for about 50,000 years before he came along.

So, Mysore for a few days. Spent another couple of hours in the rail booking office yesterday to secure a ticket to Tirupathi early January. There I will visit a friend from Hyderabad who is recovering from major surgery to fractures of the skull and jaws and also do a little pilgrimmage to Tirumala and see the temple of Lord Venkatesh - the richest in India. You can make a donation/do puja online. It is apparently the largest place of pilgrimmage in the world with over 100,000 people per day visiting and some 20,000 staff to 'coordinate' it all. After that it'll be time for a quick couple of weeks looking round Tamil Nadu before meeting Helen in Sri Lanka at the end of January. I've gotta get there first and sort the deluxe pad as a base for our surf mission. Seems that overall Mum and Helen are enjoying their Aussie hols again - getting to meet the locals www.couchsurfing.com style I thnk this time, although they do of course have their own house!

Had a lovely yoga practice this morn - has been months since I did ashtanga in a room with a few others and it was very pleasant. At the same time it made me appreciate the value of a period of practice on my own. Even though it gets a bit lonely sometimes!

No plans for the day - want to have a swim, maybe later. Have just been invited to lunch by random Aussies here so will take them up on that one.

Happy Christmas.

Rarely spotted - me!

2007-12-09T23:33:00.001+13:00

Rarely spotted - me!
Originally uploaded by jakebarne

Am in the office today (gasp - dont think I've ever said that on a Sunday). This is a shot of me yesterday - went with a colleague to Golkonda Fort on the outskirts of Hyderabad. See Flickr (on my links) for few other images from last few weeks.

Still slaving here at www.apmas.org - trying to get the work finished but people keep asking me to do more and revise this and help with that. Staff here are so busy. Overstretched really.

Hyderabad is good, not sure where next.

Microfinance in action

2007-11-20T00:36:00.001+13:00

Microfinance in action
Originally uploaded by jakebarne

is this woman:

A) Wondering about the best way to offset her flight emissions after the weekend in NY
B) Considering the merits of organic Kohlrabi or a 'Howie's' eco-friendly skateboarding hoody at GBP195
C) Fed up with being stereotyped by people who don't have a clue about trying to live on $1 per day
D) Contributing to a Self-Help Group micro-credit plan meeting

answers by email only please.

No prizes.

2007-11-18T18:45:00.000+13:00

The lack of posting reflects a lack of time as opposed to lack of things to say. The internship is in full flow and the workload is easily enough to work 7 days a week, which I am doing.

Today I went for breakfast to the same hotel where, as I sat by a lobby pond of Koi Carp the other week I suddenly had my first nosebleed in a good few years. This time, although the food was good, the staff attentive and I got a much needed haircut the same edge of the unexpected and the unsettling crept in. It sounds weird but the toilet bowl swirled menacingly when I flushed it. I mean really! The other surprise was the amount of dust ingrained into my neck, scalp and hair from the 6 day field trip last week. When I got a haircut the guy sprayed water mist and rubbed my head down with a towel after the cut and I swear the towel was covered in grime. I had been washing of course, but this stuff is fine grained and had just got everywhere. It was very embarrassing. I don't normally burble excuses to strangers, but there I was...

What else? The work has been good if demanding. I am about to go to the villages in the south of the state again to conduct the research which I piloted last week. Should be doable in 6 days, if a little tight. I also did a short report for the NGO on the pilot of a small loan scheme dedicated to education funding loans. The idea is to use the SHG framework to supply credit for this specific purpose to rural communities. Everyone wants it to happen. Parents know desperately that education is the key to economic autonomy and are quite prepared to sacrifice almost everything to make sure their children get good schooling and more. However the route to a sustainable and affordable solution, necessarily involving the local banks, is not clear. The pilot was too small and rudimentary to draw many conclusions. I have to recommend a way forward.

Before leaving for the field trip on Wednesday night I need to finish a redraft of the NGO's strategic plan, and also complete the accompanying Action Plan. This is all very well, and I am of course receiving contributions from all departments, but the original document isn't very well written and time is tight. We need to give it to a senior manager from a large UK consultancy firm who is coming to do an organisational review (free) for 3 weeks from Nov 27. She will need to make sense of it and then assess if the NGO is up to the task or not. My feeling is that, yes it is, but the structure of the organisation needs to change and become more process driven rather than being so conventionally department oriented. But what do I know....I'm short of at least 1, possibly 2, degrees and about 5 years professional experience with regards such decisions.

But that is what happens when you leave the first career, which was unhealthy, to pursue a second on the other side of the world which itself ends up being unsuitable for a host of other reasons. I see that I am very much living a pattern of geographical and metier migration the crystallisation of which is unforeseeable and perhaps uncertain. Its hard for some people to reconcile such an outcome with an apparent bias from the start towards some kind of relatively conventional path, even if the route looked poorly marked at points. And in some ways it is conventional - dully so.

Felt another way I remind myself that each life is lived entirely differently to all others, when experienced personally, and our ability to really empathise and understand others is severely hampered by our conditioning and the power of the forces acting invisibly and unperceived on our lives. Forces on a grand scale, like climate change, and on a minutely personal level, like hormonal fluctuations, which we take so for granted, are in fact the things which in one way unite us and would seem to pull us together while at the same time they inexorably divide and insulate us from one another.

A lot of the dissonance in perspective between people, family members, friends, colleagues, is there because of a fundamental distinction in understanding; between those who at root feel that we can know what we do and why, and those who perceive a reality where such certainty of knowledge seems illusory and deceptive. This distinction draws people apart in another way too because it goes to the very heart of answering questions about personal identity. If you strip away work, friends and relatives individuals are immediately faced with a huge gap in self-understanding, even self acceptance. For most people this would seem to be a crisis of sorts. Even removing one of these elements can provoke extreme anxiety. Witness the number of us who in reality shudder at the thought of more than a couple of weeks off work, although it is never admitted (I hasten to add that I am not in this camp!).

Whichever way we see the world we are forced to live with an incipient knowledge of uncertainty and illusion, or put another way, boundless possibility and the tantalising chance of clarity. Each optic can be held close to the heart, either with love or a tight, tight grasp.

2007-10-24T00:54:00.000+13:00

Settled in here now - and the weather has cooled off nicely. Working on editing the (overdue) annual report and also on a couple of proposals for small Impact Assessment studies while I am here.

I heard from several people that Hyderabad has the highest quality of life of any major Indian metropolitan area. True, it doesn't stink really and there is not too much begging and destitution visible. It doesn't have any pavements though, so walking around can get you regular clips round the elbow or ear from passing rickshaws.

I am installed in some style in fact on the very top of a 5 storey apartment block with a lovely room and ensuite which is part of, but separate from, where my boss and his family live. This is good because Banjara Hills rents are exhorbitant. As I am only really renting a room I get a reasonable rate - plus Mrs R makes breakfast for me every day which I get to enjoy with the Boss and his two cute kids.

I heard there is a staff meeting this week. I thought 'couple of hours on Wednesday'. Think again. We are all going to the residential training centre, 2 hours drive away, for 3 entire days from Thursday! One of my fellow spectators at the 4th Military World Games on Saturday remarked, as we watched the 84kg division semi-final between North Korea and the USA, that Indians don't necessarily excel at sport. This is mainly because in a country where so many still struggle to feed themselves priorities dont tend to lie in the 'making yourself a better person' column. Rather they sit firmly in the 'making and keeping yourself a person' category. So entertainment more usually focuses on food and, of course, talking.

All of which makes me look forward with (shall we say) interest to the next few days.

Micro Finance, Mega Bucks

2007-10-18T17:15:00.001+13:00

Nearby the plush houses...
Originally uploaded by jakebarne

As I sit here at APMAS (Andhra Pradesh Womens' Self Help Society) editing their annual report whilst trying to keep up with the inevitable deluge of acronyms for which the NGO sector is famous, but also keeping an eye as ever on world events, I noticed this article in the FT about the Microfinance sector. It brought to mind a discussion I had with one of my colleagues here yesterday. My question was could the current credit squeeze, or something like it in the future, impact borrowers within Self Help Groups (SHGs) here in India? The answer seems to be no. For the moment. This is because, while private sector funding is undoubtedly sizable as a portion of total capital inflows to the sector, much of the seed capital available for institution building and outright lending within the sector comes from NGOs or state owned lenders. The hope for the future, and in a few cases the reality now, is that these institutions, which bridge the gap between major lenders and the small SHGs, are self sustaining both managerially and financially. The FT article gets to the very heart of the issue by asking if a project which began as poverty alleviation - in other words a Social Capital building/aid exercise - can really remain true to its original aims if corporations (and even financial 'institutions' like hedge funds) begin to become a part of the sector infrastructure. In a future where it is hoped by some, and perhaps feared by others, that lenders like Venture Capitalists and other speculators are the primary source of capital to such a sector I think the likelihood of the vicissitudes of global capital markets directly, and harshly, impacting these extremely poor sectors of the population is high. Just because they can make a profit doesn't entitle these organisations to take over. That would be like confusing development with growth all over again.

Butter and Mashed Bananas

2007-10-12T22:12:00.001+13:00

Metropole
Originally uploaded by jakebarne

OK so now I'm in Hyderabad/Cyberabad. Staying in Banjara Hills, the wealthy bit replete with huge MALL, supermarket which would not be at all out of place in St John's Wood, Tommy Hilfiger shop and many-a-Merc swooshing about. Ya still got ya one stumped beggars hanging around and seeming whole families living under bus shelters at the foot of the stairs to the MALL mind.

Today I am traipsing around the centre of Hyd. May not do it again tho as there is even less charm than in Bangalore to this central area. Add to that the tetchy nature of the Urdu speaking community here, mid Ramadan, and you have one seething sunny sooty and very noisy city.

Got talking to Rajid at my hotel last night, a recruiter here for a few days who began trying to get me a job as an economic consultant until I pointed out that I know very little about India's economy and only a little more about economics. That said he got out the laptop and gave me a ppt presentation on Bihar, the poorest state in India where per capita GDP is just over Rs6400 PER YEAR and almost 20% of household heads have zero education. Add in the fact that the economy is 80% rural, with attendant massive year on year growth variation, and realise that 50% of the roads are unsealed and you have a kind of super-under developed state. All fairly common knowledge I'm sure. To put some of that in perspective though, Indian GDP per capita for the whole country is only Rs25000 per year. That's my budget per month.

After my customary wander around this latest city today I am going to see Butter and Mashed Banana at the Ravindra Bharathi Theatre ("...almost a landmark"). This is thanks to S, one of my yoga classmates from Mysore, who is a theatre professional and knows lots of folk from that sphere in India. I just gotta get to the theatre and 'ask for Rohini' to get my seat

Colonel Yogi and Plate Tectonics

2007-09-19T21:52:00.000+12:00

'Trample the weak. Hurdle the dead.'

This is the latest in a series of T shirt slogans which, over the years, have caught my eye. Reminds me of a birthday present given to a friend of mine in London one year - an inspirational bit of comic-book style illustration, clearly modelled on Fantastic Four type stuff - with the attention grabbing 'I will take down all who stand before me'.

Nothing, however, has yet topped my all time favourite, spotted on the streets of Dayton, Ohio, of all places back in 1993. 'Stop Plate Tectonics' could only have manifested in a university town seriously dedicated to intoxication of various kinds. It is perhaps the most ironic statement I will ever come across. I still savour it.

On another note, I just listened to Nirvana while reading an interview with Margaret Thatcher from 1971 in the Guardian. Such seemingly incongruent and contrasting bedfellows made for a surprisingly complete experience. A woman the same age as the Queen, who came to Parliament in 1959 and became the first ever female leader of a Western nation, tussling with a journalist wearing a sports jacket and tie, backed by a band who were born out of economic alienation and rage inspired by hopelessness; a lack of hope bestowed from the mast of an economic doctrine to which the then Education Secretary would later firmly nail her colours.

On the subject of Facebook - I am thoroughly sick of and repulsed by the whole thing now and have deleted my profile. Ha! Something with such a rapid rise can have only one way to go. Jaldi jaldi!

That ole identity thing

2007-09-01T20:11:00.000+12:00

Sometimes this stuff can be slippery right? There I am just browsing the newspapers online and this article unexpectedly gave me a jolt - a part of me actually cares whether or not the All Blacks win the world cup rugby in France. This is less about rugby of course and more about the whole concept of where I feel home is. Looks like I'm split.

I can imagine barracking for the ABs, going nuts as they scrap near the tryline in the last five minutes of a final where they need a converted try to take the prize - they would deserve it; they play great rugby, still, even though we know they can be beaten like everyone else. There is still something special about the team and what it represents. That's not to say that Kiwis are enamoured with their number 1 national icon in the way they once were. Living the rugby of the 50s, 60s and 70s as it happened, fully aware of the aura and mystique the teams embodied in the amateur era, and watching the pros grind out results and star performances for 6 figure compensation are night and day in many ways. In an country once a byword for egalitarianism the concept has been hollowed out and replaced by deunionised free markets. Commercialism may attempt to conflate pride, passion and raw determination with digital broadcast revenues but it always rings hollow - perhaps particularly so when commentators like Murray Mexted get in on the act. We are left then with mere remnants of emotional ties to things like sports teams in such cultural environments. These attachments run deep though and if push comes to shove, and I can find a TV to watch, I will lap up the coming matches.

The tricky bit comes though if England manage an (unlikely) face off with the ABs. I still enjoy the novelty of glimpsing my two passports when I reach into the money belt securely stashed at home here but think little about what they represent, as emblems of belonging, tribal affiliation, right of entry and sanctuary, who I am. A NZ friend of mine recently joked that just because I hold a NZ passport doesn't mean I'm a kiwi - but of course it does. So who would I cheer for in a crunch match? It's finely balanced and I qualify my answer by saying that it pertains solely to the narrow context of international rugby; whoever plays the best rugby. Of course this is likely to be the ABs. Doesn't mean to say I'm about to throw away that slightly ragged, scuffed and well travelled maroon book.

dateline Mysore

2007-08-30T01:37:00.000+12:00

I am on the verge of buying a really nice camera - in the meantime here are a few photos of just prior to leaving NZ - a domestic view of Wellington - and a flavour of the road here on a trip out to see nature...cows and fruit truck carnage.

Fag end of the mangos

2007-08-12T17:45:00.000+12:00

I feel fortunate to have caught the very end of the mango season. Anyone who knows me may recollect that they are my favourite fruit, indeed along with Teriyaki Tuna steak they are my favourite food of all. If I had to live on just two things those would do fine.

There are lots of varieties to choose from - over 270 apparently - and there are even mango festivals to be witnessed. This is after all the native place of the mango. I wondered out loud if one might find the kind of festival where sloshing around in the pulp, perhaps clad only in a dhoti, would be the form. Of course someone immediately said that to do so in a country where millions barely survive might not be exactly ethical. Yawn.

Feels good to be back here in booming yet somehow relatively laid back Mysore. They are putting in an airport here as we speak and the place is moving on apace with all available land being built on at frantic speed. New restaurants and supermarkets have opened all over the place and the traffic is noticeably thicker even compared to 8 months ago. So is the pollution.

I chatted with P in Wellington about the concept of off setting one's carbon emissions and then the conversation meandered onto giving money to beggars in India. Although previously I have never done this anywhere, this time I am making an exception. We talked about what beggars might do with their money and concluded that it is up to them of course. They can either use it to get absolutely blotto - like the guy I stood next to for a while yesterday at a bus stop in town who was slumped, perhaps ominously, in the recovery position on the smooth cement of the shelter; he was just breathing, though not enough to disturb the flies that peppered his grubby red t shirt and filthy beige trousers which fell almost open around his hips. I had seen him before, in much the same state, though slumped in the middle of the road, last year. Another option for the revenue stream is of course to pay their 'protectors' of which I'm sure there are many here. Finally I thought of the old lady with 3 fingers who crouched almost invisible in a corner of a stair well leading to the dentist a friend of mine used last year. As you pass the fingers they emerge from the half light and if you glance up an impression of dusty blue cloth wrapped around a tired, old and hungry face can prick the conscience. Maybe she can buy Rs10 of carbon offset.

2007-08-01T08:19:00.000+12:00

I am currently about 50% deaf. Mainly thanks to the effects of a very clogged up face. Wellington had a revolting cold going around and I seem to have been contaminated - damned cities. After two flights yesterday, from Napier then Auckland to Sydney, my Eustachian tubes simply cannot stand the heat.

Just to pile on the pressure my shoulder is still sore as from aikido - torn ligament in the AC joint - which means that all strong exertion of the shoulder is OUT for another month.

So, with a cold and a sore shoulder I am still very happy to be on my travels - I enjoyed Wellington even though it was cold and wet; there be life! - and waking up on a Sydney morning never seems to lose its charm. Catching up with R and T who have a very cute new baby, Lily, and today having lunch with Tara and a clairvoyant friend of hers - maybe I should try and find out if 'anyone' has advice for my trip to India.

FT.com loses the thread

2007-07-24T18:50:00.000+12:00

Gideon -

I gotta say that after an entry like that YOU almost deserve to get nuked - or your editor does (only joking btw)!

Your little sketch is so simplistic it astounds me. I think the FT offices must be a little too comfortable and cosy. Your journalistic specs are misting up mate, perhaps your talents are better deployed on matters less gritty than nuclear 'terrorism'.

First of all no serious commentator thinks it likely that a fullscale nuclear device could be detonated by a group of Jihadis. As you well know the real risk is of a so called 'dirty bomb'. Now THAT is not so far outside the bounds of possibility is it?

"Niall Ferguson, a history professor at Harvard, recently wrote that nuclear terrorism in London was the one “high probability, high impact” threat that “fills me with dread”. He is of course talking about the dirty bomb scenario.

Time to rewrite your article already.

This next point might stick in the gullet a little - but I invite you to compare and contrast remarks and policy decisions of two well known political and religious extremists - Pres GWB and Pres Ahmadinejad. Having done so I defy you to be disingenuous enough to tell me there are not close similarities in general tone, levels of belligerence and intransigence as well as apparent gross stupidity between the two.

Ahmadinejad believes that the US is Satan incarnate. GWB believes in the Creation. Ahmadinejad wants to (if you believe the best known translations) wipe Israel off the map. GWB already has 'wiped' Iraq and Afghanistan off the map and may be about to put the boot in to Iran, no doubt with some kind of 'surgical' strike.

Tell me who you think is more 'unstable' or 'millenarian'. Close call isn't it.

You seem to imply that the issue of fissile material emanating from some corner of the former USSR is under control. I invite you to listen to recent World Service reportage on this very subject. That stuff is turning up in cow and pig sheds right across what used to be known as Soviet Central Asia, and some of it is definitely being trafficked - as per senior representatives of the IAEA who are trying to locate the dastardly little stashes.

As a final thought, North Korea, it is worth mentioning, has just done the Deal of the Century. They are still on the map because they have nuclear weapons already. They beat the US to the punch. They appear to have done a smart deal - they will be left alone if they stop building more. Bizarrely, Kim Jong-Il, as sane as they come according to Madeleine Albright, may be the sanest of the little trio we consider here. Scary isn't it.

Or maybe it just doesn't look that way from where you sit.

Kind regards

Jake

Wellington times

2007-07-20T17:05:00.000+12:00

I have been doing a spot of volunteering here in Wellington - just basic stuff for the local foodbank run by the City Mission and also helping out with organisation at the Red Cross here for the First Aid courses they teach as fund raisers.

As the film festival began today I took in Rescue Dawn, directed by Werner Herzog and starring Christian Bale. This is easily the most commercial of Herzog's films that I have seen - the other being Wild Blue Yonder and Grizzly Man. Shot in super saturated retro flavoured high contrast jungle colour Rescue seems to tell the story of Dieter Dengler who, whilst flying his first combat mission as a US Navy pilot, a secret bombing mission over the Ho Chi Minh trail inside Laos, is shot down and subsequently captured by guerrilla fighters below (nowadays they might of course be called 'Terrists'). I say apparently because this really is not a film containing any deep message on the political level. Even the simple stuff like War is Hell is left aside. The story sticks close to Dieter through his multi month sweat drenched ordeal.

It's a kind of Deer Hunter lite. The two films share key elements; the way Dieter leads the rag tag pack of POWs to escape and supports the one comrade who ends up accompanying him into the jungle odyssey which awaits; Bale's realist and pragmatist hero with just enough wildness in his own heart to keep him on the right side of sanity (most of the time anyway).

So it seems a simple story, 'inspired by true events' from the life of Dieter D. Incidentally that particular trope seems to be too ripe to resist since Spielberg used it as an excuse to tell a pack of lies about the Israeli death squads in Munich. But anyway...so we spend a lot of time in the jungle with Dieter. And how beautiful it is to be there. This film does justice to the natural world of South East Asia and contrasts this beauty and its brooding massiveness with the flailing, desperate humans deep beneath the triple canopy. The density and impenetrability of the bush is almost like another character on screen, swiping, entangling and felling the actors in this story of a simple desire to survive.

Our hero is out of his depth but gains a fingernail of purchase on the rim of survival against huge odds and just hangs on. Bale, not always convincing previously although perhaps the scripts were to blame anorexia-like starvation notwithstanding, carries this role brilliantly. It is not a film of gravitas and neither is his acting; he and Herzog have struck the right balance. Dieter comes across as a robust and singly determined individual, but also human and full of compassion. He understands human frailty and Bale shows us this in the way Dieter comes across as a man who seems, to his benefit, to be not quite grown up. The little boy who wanted so desperately to be a pilot is getting the adventure he might just have been looking for but it's 20C hotter than he wanted, the machetes are viciously sharp and snakes and worms don't really taste that good it turns out.

Finally there is a happy ending and this doesn't spoil the film because it's not a thriller or even an action movie in many ways. The 'action' is intentionally muted. It is replaced instead by the small minute by minute dramas of the crash and initial evasion, escape and survival in the jungle and the desperate descent into madness of the other POWs.

This is a surprisingly kind film, set in a war zone. We hate neither the captors nor the captured and there is no sledgehammer of condemnation being wielded. That has been done before and will no doubt be done again. Herzog and Bale have trodden a very fine line in telling this story and end up guiding the film into unusual territory.

Bitchin

2007-07-17T08:29:00.000+12:00

There is a huge lump on my shoulder. But that is what happens when you land on it doing a 'roll' in Aikido that is more of a self inflicted 'spear tackle' (as it is technically known in rugby speak here). Thankfully much Hypericum, Arnica and Rhus Tox are doing the trick and hopefully the lump will subside quickly. Because Aikido is fun. Possibly because it is a little bit dangerous.

In other news I have just eaten 4 gold kiwi fruit for breakfast and wondered again what hit the Pentagon on Sept 11st. Next up it's pancakes with vegemite.

Cultural boob

2007-06-20T20:54:00.000+12:00

So, apart from nearly going to the wrong venue (if you happen to know Wellington you will know immediately what a dick I am for trying to go to the 25,000 seat Cake Tin/Westpac stadium rather than the 4000 seat TSB Arena) and then being unable to find a car park and nearly missing the whole thing my audience with HHDL all went according to plan. At least from my side of things.

While my preparations were all cool, level headed non-attachment and included waking up too late to consider walking into town, then nearly missing a meeting I had at 11am due to not being able to find a parking space (something that was to happen for a second time just a short time later the same day), not having a watch to know how much time I had and then realising that I hadn't enough change for the Pay and Display so necessitating a brief but enjoyable mid-city jog to and from the nearest ATM then in and out of the nearest 24/7, the DL had clearly found himself in disarray that morning following our meeting at the airport on Monday night.

He took his seat calmly enough, raised as it was on a stage and gilded in Tibetan reds and golds, but I could tell from the surfeit of nonchalance in the way he casually softened up the expectant audience with one anecdote after another about what, exactly, he likes to carry in his maroon shoulder bag that he was clearly rattled. However he soon got over his nerves and pulled it together to begin his discourse: World Peace - a Human Approach.

Basically the meat of it was this - World peace depends on cultivating compassion, while at the same time realising that sometimes action is preferable to just looking on with compassion. Where is this compassion to come from? Well, apparently (and here's the Human bit), the seed of compassion is best sown in the strong emotional ties that can be fostered between baby and mother. To illustrate this the Dalai Lama recounted an old family tale from the childhood of his father.

As a boy his father had been very close to his own mother. This woman, the grandmother of the Dalai Lama (pronounced dally laama round these parts), had cultivated an very strong bond with her children, thus ensuring a supportive and solid family structure and environment. Her children would not want for the attention of their mother. A deep spring of compassion and love would flow within the family, eventually manifesting among other things in the person of the 14th Dalai Lama himself. Just how strongly the bond between mother and child had been spun could be seen from the fact that the young boy would rush home after a hard day in the fields and demand to be taken to his mother's breast, there to suckle. Even though there was no milk to be had as it had been 10 years since this birth.

It was these last two concrete details which kind of took the sheen off the moment really. True to form the Lama chuckled good naturedly at his own joke, as is the wont of the Lamas I have thus far encountered. Unfortunately, this being New Zealand, not too many other members of the audience felt inclined to share in his sprightly mirth. I felt a wave of discomfort wash back and forward around me, like a wave in a bath tub filled with 4000 people where you kind of slap the surface and watch the ripples rebound off the sides, to and fro.

This passed after a few moments luckily.

I elected to leave before the final questions but these apparently included one asking for his views on euthanasia and another asking whether or not being in a committed (or presumably any) relationship is a barrier to becoming enlightened. The answer to this last one was apparently a diplomatic 'yes'.

Two birds with one stone

2007-06-19T09:51:00.000+12:00

The guy in the grey suit, large checked yellow and pale blue shirt and dark blue tie had strolled down the narrow concourse between the arrival gates some minutes earlier. He was in his mid 30s, with neat but slightly weathered features – like someone who spends time outside. Perhaps they like hiking, or they were in the army. What with the mini scrum of gathering media types, small cameras and security tags hanging from their necks, this lone individual didn’t catch our attention at first, but then N noticed he had a mini earpiece and was doing the ‘talking to the cufflink’ thing every few minutes. Must be the next flight then, we guessed.

It was pretty warm in the terminal and I was starting to get thirsty. I wandered to the drinks machine and back, feeling slightly dehydrated but unwilling to shell out the $3 for a small bottle of what was probably tap water.

As I turned my back to the wall railing and lent against it my gaze caught a new arrival strolling past – amazingly this little jaunt had just killed two birds with one stone. Helen Clark, the NZ PM, walks past with her security detail and into the door of gate 17. Clearly going to say hi to the DL out of the glare of the media. They had been fed the story that this visit wasn’t to be officially recognised as the pair had ‘accidentally’ met at Brisbane airport a week or so earlier, thus obviating the need for them to meet again but it would seem that she is at the very least more polite than that and possibly simply more honourable. I suppose if you line them up together you could argue that you have the two least corruptible public figures in the world side by side.

We hang around a few more minutes and then notice a press man shuffle quickly in front of the open double doors and snap a couple of flashlit shots off. Clearly the arrival is in progress now and a few seconds later a group of about 8 people walk steadily into view, just a metre or two in front of me. The press and a few suited Tibetan types gather ound as they keep moving through. The Dalai Lama is of course exactly as you expect him to be – right down to the bare right arm poking from his robe and the dark cherry red, polished but slightly scuffed clompy shoes he wears with grey ankle socks.

I walk up the concourse next to him with just one security person between us. On the short video N took you can see the small, and I mean small, bald spot on the crown of my freshly clippered head. Casually strolling along next to the Dalai Lama.

He is not a person I had given a great deal of thought to previously, though we have tickets to see him speak on ‘A Human Approach to World Peace’ today in Wellington, but I have to say that as he came into my view from the doors of the arrival gate I felt something. You could barely name it really. If anything it was like the impression of a small pulse or wave passing through and around the immediate vicinity. The ghost of a shimmer. A simple presence perhaps.

As the entourage proceeded along towards the main hall in the terminal filled with coffee, book and underwear shops there was a larger gathering of people, many from the local Buddhist community of course plus the rest of the airport population for the evening, caught unawares but readying the camera phones or getting excited anyway. Some walked past in the opposite direction, looking at this red robed individual with blank unknowing stares, perplexed and even a little put out. Somehow resentful that they didn’t know who this was.

While N struggled to get the perfect shot from behind the gain line, P and I just took up position at the end of the informal greeting queue and casually, gently, shook his soft hand and said hello as he passed by; a slightly stooped 71 year old Tenzin Gyatso without any hand luggage.

2007-05-11T20:50:00.000+12:00

I have asked to be removed from ashtangi.net because I found this when I accidentally clicked while looking at their front page. It was like stepping in cat shit with bare feet.

Now we all plumb significant depths of banality on our blogs from time to time - some more than others it has to be said - and that is a blogger's prerogative. However, innocent web surfers should never be exposed to such a high incidence of banality on one, lone, blog. The only conceivable reason to have activated such a blog is, well, to have a blog. End of chat.

Such 'toilet' (as the vernacular English expression so aptly puts it) amounts to cyber pollution of the worst kind. I would never condone censorship. I would however ensure that I never again have even a tangential association with this type of drivel. Is it even real? I would rather have ads for Lockheed Martin, McDonalds and Robert Mugabe on my blog that have it publicised along side this kind of schmucky nebisch tripe.

The Secret

2007-04-27T17:15:00.000+12:00

This film, which springs directly from the little gem that was "What the bleep do we know" and is meant as a further exploration of the relationship between quantum physics and consciousness, is not only a serious misreading of its sources but also both morally repugnant and a sad confirmation of exactly how some in America end up conflating the spiritual and the material, the real and the evanescent - when they should definitely know A LOT better.

Judging from their website I would say that the producers have been reading too much Dan Brown and not enough Fritjof Capra.

It's all very well to get together well known US self help gurus like Jack Canfield, Marci Shimoff and John Gray together with the odd Quantam physicist and have them spout about what great lives they have and how they lived through tough times, transformational experiences and personal redemption. It's another thing altogether to invest these individuals with some sort of mystique ("The Secret") and in so doing confer on their view of the world as we see it post-edit an aura of reality and authenticity, and in the process render this view something to aspire to; whether it be the '$4 million dollar house' or the 'Checks that just keep coming through the mail'.

Let's not forget just how profound and important real self actualisation is and remind ourselves just what all the fuss is about when we bring together theories and philosophies like Quantum Physics and Buddhism.

Eastern spirituality and Quantum Physics both seem to suggest a similar concept of the universe. Although of course one is spiritual and the other physical at the outset nonetheless they appear to converge in suggesting that essentially the universe is empty, that all that exists is energy and that we, and our minds, are nothing more than manifestations of this energy. In seeing this we can either accept the impermanence inherent in our universe or exist in a state of grasping and delusion. The confusion of the permanent with the impermanent and the concepts of attachment and non-attachment are at the heart of Buddhist teaching and it is here that we get to the nub of the problem in The Secret. The much vaunted 'Law of Attraction', the idea that the minute one relinquishes one's attachment to something it can be effortlessly possessed and that we are therefore masters of our own individual universes, is nothing but a grimly distorted and misunderstood interpretation of the concept of non-attachment.

You wanna own that new car? Stop thinking about how you can't do it because this is only ever increasing the impossibility of doing so. Just start thinkin how ya gonna do it and your La-Z-Boy will transform itself into the babe magnet of your dreams. Whatever.

This film mentions cars and money and God an awful lot. It doesn't mention love, compassion or peace. It equates material possessions with happiness in the crudest manner possible and suggests that if you live in utter poverty, at the bottom of the heap then no-one but you can possibly be responsible. Now, I'm not saying that these are the beliefs of the participants or even that this is what the producers are trying to argue. No. But what I am saying is that this is what they have ended up doing. And I wonder why they did that.

Manu Bay and travelling around India with a 7ft surfboard

2007-04-25T12:10:00.000+12:00

I went over to Raglan, home to one of the most famous left hand point breaks in the world at Manu Bay, to do a spot of surfing. On arriving at the backpacker hostel I was less than impressed to be honest - it was a bit on the tatty side and my 'double' room left me with just enough space to put the mat down. As I mentioned to a friend who also came down to try out the waves, lucky I don't actually do Garba Pindasana yet because only an expert could have managed it in that tight little spot without headbutting the skirting board.

Anyway, after a couple of days the whole place really started to grow on me - the lodge was in a beautiful little valley full of fern palms, glow worms and sharp contrasting late afternoon shadows and clear blue sky. Even the paltry excuse for a kitchen began to seem adequate.

The surfing itself was perfect for those at the learner stage - not too big but nice and regular and uncrowded. Wainui beach is wide and basically empty at this time of year, even over a holiday weekend. And I just love being in the water! It brings a smile to my face at the time and afterwards too. Wetsuits required of course but that gave over 2 hours of comfort with just the feet getting a little chilly.

Having wanted for so long to learn to surf I am actually now doing it and as luck would have it the yoga is of course a huge help, not just for the balance and rythmn of the activity but also in terms of attitude, physical condition and upper body stamina and strength. I was beginning to catch and surf waves almost at will, though the takeoff needs to get a lot cleaner and the rides can definitely get longer; and they will, in time. The pleasure of paddling out, watching and observing the swell and sets, duck diving the waves to resume sitting on the board, all of it brings such peace and calm, a feeling of unity and exhilaration perhaps best labelled as joy. And just once, unexpectedly and without thinking I turned, paddled, felt the board begin to slide down the little wave face and popped up perfectly onto the middle of the board, steady and balanced, eyes forward and ready to go, the timing absolutely right, the attitude right, the feeling right, the sum of it all just right.

All of which found me in the board shop in Napier yesterday, looking at 7ft4in boards and accoutrements - but the stumbling block for me is the idea of having to lug that thing around Indian railway stations, streets and airports. Talking to a mate last night we both agreed that even a backpack seems like a hassle sometimes. Now, I haven't investigated the Indian surf scene, though I gather there is some, but for me the main focus is Sri Lanka where I know that down south there are some good breaks to be had, handily near to a yoga centre I plan to visit in the new year. So the dilemma is whether to buy now and cart the thing around or rely on being able to get some kind of half decent board in Sri Lanka when I get there. Hmmm.

The natural order of things

2007-04-06T13:01:00.000+12:00

One of the most important things about the internet and BBC World Service is that together they are keeping my brain alive. At the same time this gives me an opportunity to examine the nature of the sustenance required. It’s pretty varied.

To produce 1kg of rice approximately 5000L of water are necessary. In Bangladesh, a country with a population of around 200m, rice accounts for 70% of an individual’s calorific intake. The recommended maximum is 50%. In the mid-1970s, when the World Food Programme began to supply food aid to the nation, approximately 70% of women and children there were malnourished. Today that figure is estimated to be around 50%. In part this may be due to aid, but another contributing factor is the improvement in yields from rice crops due to crossing varieties of rice. Now genetic engineering offers the possibility not only of improving yields but also of dramatically fortifying the nutritional content of this staple food. ‘Golden Rice’, with an orange yellow tint, contains beta-carotene producing DNA transferred from daffodils. Genetic engineering thus offers the possibility of rice containing vitamins and other nutrients not naturally present.

Only 1% of bacteria and viruses can be cultured and examined under laboratory conditions. This means that the remaining 99% are therefore a relative unknown. Microbiologists are working in a very murky and incomplete knowledge environment.

Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity produced the famous equation E=mc2. This has no practical value within normal bounds of everyday experience or orders of magnitude. Outside of these however it means that, among other things, as an object accelerates towards the speed of light its mass actually increases. In addition, if it attained the speed of light its mass would by definition be infinite. Thus the impossibility of travelling at the speed of light since the energy required to do so would be infinite too. Another prediction of the theory says that time will pass more slowly for a clock at a given altitude above earth’s surface than for an identical clock on the surface. This concept, though, is actually observed to be the case and is factored into software for devices such as GPS satellites and equipment.

When Chloroform, which overcame many of the disadvantages of Ether, first became available for general use as an anaesthetic in the mid 1800s an enormous debate was ongoing within and without the medical community as to whether it was ‘right’ to use anaesthetics at all to perform major surgery. Some practitioners adopted the new technology while others chose not to do so.

Today we might assume that a concept like the elimination of pain to facilitate life saving surgery might exist in a relatively neutral moral and ethical space. However, in general we now make a value judgement based principally on medical science and individual 'experience' that pain above a certain level of intensity is both bad and unnecessary. This in turn informs ethics and social sensibilities. We can eliminate pain and so, in the instance of open heart surgery, it is both expedient and necessary to do so.

Previously however it seems that medical science was perhaps informed more by social and religious perspectives than its own set of value judgements based on modern concepts of rationality. Society did not view pain as a simply negative experience. Perhaps God guided individuals through the infliction of pain, helping them to make decisions or influencing their lives. Pain was to be borne as it fortified the character and spirit, improving the individual and thereby providing a pay off to wider society. Pain represented punishment and by extension a lesson to others, and a deterrent. Pain was a purifier, a good thing that often preceded a cure or resolution. Pain was simply part of life and so to tamper with it might not be in our best interests as it simply formed a feature of the way the world was, the natural order.

All of which looks like a nice neat, if glib, piece hinting at issues of cultural relativism and contextualisation. The thing that occured to me subsequently however sits roughly along the following lines:

Prior to the publication of the General Theory of Relativity in 1915 the concepts of space and time were seen as existing separately but together in a fixed environment which itself was unaltered by events within it. After the General Theory it seemed that this was no longer the case. Space and time were linked together and existed in a dynamic state whereby they both exerted an effect on, and were themselves effected by, their environment the universe. This paradigmatic shift in thinking has reverberated outwards across art and science ever since and I wonder how much it can be seen to have given rise to the now much criticised concepts of post-modernism which were still dominant, though beginning to look a little tired, while I was at University. The idea that all things are relative to one another and their environment, be that physical or philiosophical, had become something of a mantra as well as being extremely useful for those wishing to subvert ingrained and dominant bodies of thought. But how much do Cultural Relativity and General Relativity really have in common?

Ah well, it keeps me amused anyway.

Be alert, NZ needs lerts.

2007-04-04T10:17:00.000+12:00

I almost laughed outloud, but the laugh was beaten to it by a groan upon reading that Ashtanga is to be a demonstration Olympic Sport in Beijing.

I particularly like the proposed 'logo' for the event, and the fact that it is being included 'along with BMX biking'. Does anyone even do that anymore?

I loved the sneaky jibe 'The organisers feel that with the inherent implicit competition present in Ashtanga Yoga, it was not too much of a stretch (groan) to include it as a sport.'

By the time I got to 'The event will be structured similarly to the decathlon. There will be 6 different rounds held for men and women, each representing a series in Ashtanga. Competitors who make it past the first round of the Primary Series will then compete in the Second Series round and so forth.' I was about ready to give it up and find something else to do in life which most immediately included writing to the poster of the article and lambasting the jaunty, relief tinged timbre of the report - 'At last it will be acceptable to openly ask "what posture are you at?"'.

Fortunately I noticed in the byline that it was post on April 1st.

With April 1st a Sunday there was no local media to provide similar entertainment so we kind of missed out. Last year there was a great one in the paper about how the region was going to get an international airport shortly at a tiny community called Bridge Pa. The plans involved practically bulldozing the few dozen pastel shaded clapboard houses which surround the Mormon church out there and then uprooting a few hundred hectares of prime vineyard in order to construct the runway.

The other newspaper joke that springs to mind is from about 1998 when I was working in the City of London. The Financial Times ran an advert from BMW alerting the public to 'fake BMWs' on the market. You could practically feel the shudder run through the cohorts on the dealing room floor. Luckily there was an easy way to spot the fakes; the distinctive blue and white check logo at the front of the bonnet was a mirror image of the authentic ones. Traders breathed a sigh of relief and returned to their screens and the vitally important work of the day, which normally included a fair bit of eating, reading The Sun and leering at anything female within a 200m radius of their phones.

Yoga, and the many paths to truth

2007-03-16T12:54:00.000+13:00

"The blog phenomenon with it's multi centred truths and denial of mainstream knowledge could destroy the whole possibility of truth."

So contends my father in this, his first 'mainstream' online appearance. It's funny and very British, and very Jewish, and very him.

I have two immediate responses to this paradoxically erudite and Luddite (yeah, let's wreck those printing presses) outburst:

I know he doesn't 'approve' of post-modern, relativistic modes of thought and contends that 'one 'must take positions' on 'issues' or ideas. Indeed. Without firm points of reference in life where would we be. The problem is obviously that if one relies on 'authorities in order to give the view we're expressing some validity' then surely it becomes very difficult for anyone to transcend the current hegemonic ideology, for those who cite sources not accepted as authorities see their views denigrated and denied. Seems that Foucault had a point after all. In addition, the very concept of equating 'view' with 'truth' is problematic. Is it a case of 'One truth many paths' or 'One path many truths'? It all gets very circular very quickly.

My other response is that when it comes down to it we all like freedom of speech, and maybe saying things that might not be true is fun. And maybe having fun is the path to real truth anyway, the personal truth that all those who have a regular yoga practice begin to wrestle with whenever a foot is set on a mat.

"One truth, many paths" - nice one dad!

The best city in NZ

2007-03-06T21:21:00.000+13:00

There's just one snag - yep, the weather is shite in Wellington. Someone said today that it is actually the worst in the country. Even this however is behaving and it is actually warm at 530am as we head down the 138 steps to get in the car and go to Te Aro Astanga. Wellington is hilly and blustery but also sunny and appealingly compact. I am staying with P an N who, though I had never met them, have kindly put me up for the week so I can extend last week's workshop down here. Their house is right up the top of Brooklyn and has superb views of the city and harbour, today all shimmering water and bright green and red tin roofs nestling up and down the inclines.

The yoga is done by 8am so that leaves a whole day. Today I sat on their verandah and read The Magus by John Fowles

2007-03-01T11:16:00.000+13:00

We have a 'travelling yoga teacher' here at the moment doing a 5 day workshop. 630am practices, a full room and lovely sunny mornings to welcome us out afterwards.

The yoga teacher seems pretty focused on making sure no one is hurting their knees – I mean really making sure. He is also doing a bit of chanting while folk get through the first part of the standing sequence. It’s in Sanskrit so I obviously can’t understand it. But I don’t think that is the point. It sounds very beautiful however, which is perhaps the best way to understand it. Thanks mate.

On Saturday night there is to be a little dinner – bring a dish – for which I am going to cook my two favourite Indian dishes; paneer tikka and mutter paneer. Tried to find the paneer in the local supermarkets but to no avail. No problem though, it’s easy to make – just boil some milk up and add lemon juice to curdle, then strain the curds from the whey and there you have it. Very nice of the local Indian restaurant to oblige and make me about a kilo which is now sitting, round, pressed and slightly creamy in colour, in the fridge.

In other news, still looking for somewhere to call my own round here – almost sealed the deal twice over the weekend only for unforeseen circumstances to crop up and ruin the party in both cases. Back to square one, ads in the paper and so on. No drama though as I have a month so go so should be plenty of time – plus the fact that at least two people have offered me rooms in their houses should the need arise.

Life is getting more transient by the minute anyway – all my junk is now stored in one of those self storage facilities where it has air con, security and all for just $30 per month. I really did not miss any of it for 5 months and don’t yet need it day to day here.

Latest ipod acquisitions are the new albums from Shapeshifter, the NZ drum and bass act, and British Soul artist Amy Winehouse. Both spanking albums. Also, I can heartily recommend George FM - this Auckland radio station plays an uplifting range of music - and I mean range, unlike the rock based drivel which intersperses the ads on most local NZ stations - which is a true sound for sore ears at these verdant, warm and seductively barren latitudes.

2007-02-21T10:37:00.000+13:00

I have arrived back in NZ.

There aren't too many places in the world where you can disembark from an international flight and catch the smell of sheep in the adjacent field. Palmerston North 'International' Airport however is just such a place. The arrivals halls has the feel of a cattle pen and the town itself, at 130am, is disconcertingly tranquil. Got on a bus the next morning for the 2 hour ride to Hastings.

Prana Yoga - that is the place to do ashtanga in Hawkes Bay. While I have been away two of my friends here have begun to set up an ashtanga space. The room is large, bright and warm with a firm floor and a pleasant feel. All that remains is to develop a proper timetable, which is being done, and it will be up and running. It's in Hastings and there are already a solid 12-15 people per practise which is a good start. It will easily grow - there is plenty of interest and demand.

We have 'a travelling yoga teacher' coming here from Feb 28th for a 5 day workshop - early morning mysore style and a couple of lead classes for those who have never tried this yoga. Go Hawke's Bay!!

I have heard that, in a further example of the popularity of ashtanga these days, the shalas in Mysore have stopped enrolling new students. There are just too many people. Is it just a dirty rumour put out by Bikram?

This evening I become officially 50% Kiwi when I attend my citizenhip ceremony. On the invitation it was mentioned that national dress is encouraged. I wondered what that was in NZ until it was pointed out that they mean the national dress of one's home country of course. What is that for England??

Posting will be brief for the moment as I have no www connection at home but for those of you in email contact, feel free to let me know how things are going - it would be good to hear!

2007-02-04T10:04:00.000+13:00

So, back in the Noosa groove.

This morning Helen and I went for a bodyboarding session pre breakfast. The water was glassy, a little cloud cover took the sting out of the sunshine and there were perfect 3 foot sets rolling in. Helen is learning and this was her 3rd day in the water. So far she is going great, learning to paddle for the waves, read the surf a little and catch a few gooduns. We even got the same wave at one point, she went left and I right. So much fun! Waves are taking over the holiday, which I 100% approve of. I need to book a few surf lessons now I think – conditions here are perfect to learn and we still have 10 days left.

It’s been a while since the ‘why don’t I buy a campervan and travel around Australia’ thoughts entered my mind, but they are back! And while I’m about it, why not South Africa too eh? It is sooo tempting.

Now we have a little downpour, tropical style, intense, warm and short. The air is full of warm, round eucalypt scents and the Kookaburras are laughing. We are snug in our deluxe cabin and have a DVD supply to get through.

Babel

2007-01-27T14:45:00.000+13:00

Sadly mispronounced by many as 'babble' (whoever heard of the Tower of Babble?), the central concept of this film is the difficulty of real communication between individuals and cultures and the many reasons for this. Shoved on top of this pivotal exploration are modern day themes of insecurity, immigration, societal dislocation and interconnection and individual alienation. That said, it is also a kind of action murder mystery with big name actors jammed in to catch the eye.

Inarritu cleverly weaves these elements into an absorbing tale full of narrative jolts and fantastically sensitive penetrations of individual lives from vastly disparate cultures. No easy task, though anyone who has seen 21 Grams knows just how well the director can tell a story and how much he can get from his actors.

The linking of the four component stories is possibly a little redundant. Films like Short Cuts and more recently Crash have used this device to good effect to show how small our worlds really are. The real power in Babel is how close to the characters we get and how much we are able to identify with them. Inarritu draws us into a Morrocan village on the edge of the Sahara, a community wedding in northern Mexico, the world of a traumatised, deaf adolescent teenage girl in Tokyo. A desperate chase into the hills, pursued by police; a terrifying trip at night across the US desert; confusion and joy followed by crushing disappointment upon a first experience of Ecstasy. All these contexts grip us and pull us close to the characters, every one of them victims often of nothing more than fate.

The fact that all these characters face some of the same forces silently arrayed against them as well as their own individual woes does not really need a device to physically link them for the film to succeed and it feels a little too formulaic as the truth dawns on the viewer. The vitality and grittiness of the stories as they play out makes this an emotionally charged experience however and the need for a little commercial gloss to balance this out can be forgiven in a work of this calibre.

One of the major flaws in fact comes with the performance of Brad Pitt who is miscast with Cate Blanchett. There is no chemistry between them. It is hard to imagine them as a real couple and even harder to imagine they have a family together. It's not that the director can't get the best out of big stars - Benicio del Torro was truly awesome in 21Grams - but quite simply that for Brad at least this is beyond his range. Blanchett is kind of anonymous as the gunshot victim central to the linking of the stories - a surprise given her magnetism in some other films but then again she doesn't have much dialogue to work with.

The real power in this film comes from its humanity and hard, unprotective look at individuals in crisis and some may find it less than distracting because of this. Sometimes though there is much to be gained from a good hard look at what it is that makes people act as they do in the face of impossible situations.

Often the same culprits can be seen lurking in the background: fear, loneliness, oppression, desperation, confusion.

2007-01-24T09:56:00.000+13:00

The films are stacking up a bit so I need to opine...

Apocalypto, the latest offering from Mel Gibson, had me quite excited. Mostly because of how The Passion of the Christ had turned out. I expected a very slick, slightly gritty epic. You can't always get what you want however.

Putting aside briefly the kerfuffle over Gibson's apparent antisemitism, the expression of which might be seen at best as the drunken rantings of a ludicrously insulated and egotistical Hollywood celebrity, his work has, over the years, shown that he has genuine talent both as an actor and a director. Whether he chooses to reveal this on occasion, rather than being led by his more highly developed commercial instincts is perhaps due to nothing more important than what he most enjoys doing.

His work in Zeffirelli's 1990 version of Hamlet was of a very high calibre. As someone who studied Hamlet for A-level English and saw several productions of the play including Daniel Day-Lewis at The National in London I feel at least partly qualified to comment in this regard. As a director on The Passion he again proved his ability with a film that was both original, technically superb and also potentially very difficult to pull off - and it was all in Aramaic. Definitely not pandering to the cinema-going public.

With Apocalypto, a tale of tribal infighting and enslavement in the equatorial rainforests set in Mesoamerica in the era prior to Spanish conquest, we have a film that has the potential to take us into the minds and lives of its subjects, beneath the veneer of studio gloss and set construction and also provide a genuine spectacle. They have gone to the trouble of making the film in the Mayan Yukatek language and there is a large cast of extras.

What seems to have happened with this film is that the studio has taken over. The film is basically shot in the back-lot at Universal. There are locations, but they have the feel of being tacked on to the film. And with this comes a lot of studio based gloop in the form of a hammy plot adorned with hugly expensive sets, costumes and makeup. The initial village scenes in the jungle show us the apocraphyl noble savages returning after a hunt to their village idyll. All this just about holds water but as soon as this peaceful haven is invaded by slave hunters from another tribe so the film begins to suffer from a Ben Hur-like addiction to rampant cliche and a feeling of unreality which never progresses to anything even approaching mystical fantasy.

This is a great shame because this commercial slant, which basically makes the film nothing more than a bit of rumble in the jungle which might have wide appeal but at the cost of any substance, does not have to preclude the vitality and compelling themes which are present in the idea behind the makeup. If you've seen The New World or Ten Canoes you will know what I mean.

Eden before the fall is not an original idea but it is compelling and evokes many things in the mind of an audience, offering as it does a glimpse into the past as well as an examination of humans in general and each one of us in particular. There is some of this present in the film but it is too unsubtle, too Hollywood and too unsatisfying to make the picture into anything other than a forgettable weekend outing which panders to stereotypes and takes its lessons in history from the kinds of text books one comes across well before the age of 16.

ReNoosa

2007-01-22T10:26:00.000+13:00

Well, after Helen had so much fun with her bodyboarding lesson, ably conducted by 'hunky' but linguistically impaired (it seems de rigeuer for surfing instructors to be able to say words such as 'barrel', 'paddle' and other two syllable combinations within the context of the lesson but once outside that narrow safety enclosure to revert to communicating with Bill and Ted like leers, grunts and hand signals which look a bit like the Metallica salute plus the one solitary two syllable word, be-er, which is permitted) surf instructor Sammy, and I actually managed to 'catch' a few waves convincingly and consistently enough to believe that I might have a recreational surfing future it is back to Noosa until the middle of February. We'll drop mum on Monday at the airport and then head back there.

I got so into the surfing that I have a stupidly tanned face - almost scaley in fact - and have the bloodshot eyes to match. Nice look eh? Perhaps not great for getting to know any of the lovely looking bikini clad single mums with HUGE divorce settlements who seem to populate the cafe latte hangouts in Noosa while their kids congregate at the gelato bar next door. But whatever, that's what you get for spending 4 hours splashing around on a board in blazing 30C sunshine with only one application of sunscreen at 830am.

We figure 2 weeks extra is not going to hurt anyone and still leaves us both time to attend to business matters once back in our respective home countries. Priorities, right?

Oh, and forgot to mention that in Noosa had a very sweaty practice with the guys at Peregian beach. They use a room at the Bowls club there which is pretty nice. They had about 12 people doing a led class and 8 of us doing self practice. It was hot in that small room. This meant that I actually managed (with help) to get bound both sides in Marichyasana D for the first time ever - its coming!

With a week left in Brisbane we have all sorts of things planned, like going to see Roger Sanchez (ok, its a shite website full of ridiculously cliched and incomprehensible dj-like ramblings which I imagine are meant to be 'cool' and he should stick to playing records. Basically he is a very big name US House DJ) on Australia Day night for a proper clubbing night out. I guess mum will stay at home for that one. On the day though we will hook up with local friends and get into whatever the city has organised. Before that, we still have some bbqs to do in scenic places, walking tours of the city and other things of that ilk.

Time to get on with it

Noosatimes

2007-01-18T17:11:00.000+13:00

Well the first word that crops up in the LP section on Noosa is 'Gorgeous'. I have to say it lives up to the rep. Much more than seedy overloaded Byron and beautifully situated but slightly soulless Coff's. Gotta see the contrast tho to recognise the good stuff I guess, and so while mum is up on the Great Barrier Reef fulfilling a lifelong dream to visit which she only just remembered about the other day while we watched a hefty flying fox swoop back and forward across the pool in Brisbane, Helen and I have decided to visit this little slice of holiday heaven.

I think we missed the serious crowds and so althoug there is life here its all pretty accessible. Went kayaking again today, off Noosa Heads National Park. Watched the surfers cruising on the easy right hand point and reef breaks. There's small but regular surf here at the moment and the water is crrry-stal clear. We saw a friendly loggerhead turtle breach right in front of the kayak. That's two in total this visit to Aussie.

We have identified the best place for fish and chips - that's gonna be tomorrow, and we've got some more water activities for Saturday. Helen is going to have a private bodyboard lesson and I'll try surfing (again..!) to see if my attempts are any better than any of the previous times I have had a bash. I kind of hope the yoga will help. Surely the old shoulders and arms have a bit more strength after all the thousands of vinyasas of the last 2 1/2 years. They'd better or I want a refund!

This morning while waiting in line for the espresso we reckoned Noosa is like Hampstead in N London but in a subtrop setting and a lot more laidback. Yep, the shops are all staffed by anorexic looking sales assistants who are all good to hang bikinis upon on their days off but don't offer much of anything to grab onto for the rest of life's marrow. Pandanis trees pop up everywhere to lend that essential spiky tropical look to every eye scoop and the temperature is a constant 28C. Best of all though is the way that Noosa manages to present itself in a tidy, clean and sculpted manner, as if the organic slap, suck and mulch of the mangrove swamp was a little detour on the evolutionary path to this, the fully finessed destination.

As always, whenever a new destination is ticked off nowadays I make sure to track down the ashtanga connection thereabouts. Off to Peregian beach this evening for Mysore practise with these guys. They operate at Peregian Beach Bowls Club apparently and Stacey, one half of the couple, was very helpful when I called in the middle of what was a family bbq last sunday.

Noosa Noosa Noosa.....

Family Hols

2007-01-17T01:11:00.000+13:00

So we continue on our merry way here in Brisbane. So far we have explored some of the islands off the coast in Moreton Bay with the 'help' of Manta Lodge and Scuba Centre (the guys running the boat out to the snorkel/dive site clearly didn't care one iota about the enjoyment of their paying customers, they just wanted to get their free diving in. In response to my mother's query as to what a Manta Ray is the fat chain smoking tub of wanna be Hell's Angel squeezed unappetizingly into a layer of neoprene replied 'It's a Ray'. Cheers buddy. We did though get to see Leopard Sharks and Loggerhead turtles.), enjoyed the delights of the newly opened South Bank entertainment complex including super mod-min library, modern art gallery and fake beach/open air cinema, visited some of the national and state parks which surround and abutt the city and also went to a koala sanctuary where we actually saw some of the little blighters nestling in trees in The Wild! Mum spotted it about 20 metres up. It looked like a burr or a nest of some sort until it scratched its ear.

I'm going to dispel a myth now, so don't be too disappointed with the new lense through which you will be forced to view the universe; long has it been 'known' that koalas sleep for much of the time. As much as 20 hours per day when rest and sleep are added together. This, many folk will happily tell you, is because they are intoxicated by the eucalypt leaves on which they sustain themselves. IT IS A LIE! They sleep because they have very little energy due to the fact that eucalyptus leaves have very low nutritional value. They are also very cute and likeable even when being boring and asleep.

Recently I have seen Apocalypto and Babel about which more will be said when I have got back from a short trip to Noosa with my sister. Mum is off to the Great Barrier Reef for a few days.

Hey Nick, who was on the throne in 1563? Quickly now......I'm waiting.

Cost benefit analysis, the free market and Iraq

2007-01-06T13:56:00.001+13:00

This article in the Guardian, by Terry Jones, once of Monty Python, neatly sums up what it is that annoys me so fucking much about neo-classical economists, right wing politicians and most mainstream media.

Firstly, neo-classical economics teachers like to start out university courses with a quick whip through the philosophy pertinent to economics before concluding that we humans only have somewhat limited capacity for pure rationalism and isn't this an interesting contradiction given how we like to think of ourselves here in the West and....blah blah blah. They then pretty much forget this little wrinkle and proceed to instil their first year students with unquestioning respect for concepts such as supply elasticity, diminishing returns and so on. Often given a passing mention is the concept of cost benefit analysis and how it is used within the concept of rational business decision making. This in itself is always discussed as though such situations are akin to laboratory experiments, carefully sealed off from all things political, ethical or social.

Right wing politicians - well what can I say. You might talk about personal freedom, the might and right of the free market and small government but we all know that what you really mean is you want the right to make the rich richer, increase inequality to the absolute limit of acceptability and in the process hide the massive and brutal exploitation which inevitably ensues. Need I say more?

The mainstream media nowadays so infrequently reports meaningfully on anything resembling what is really going on in geopolitics these days that I have to say I have given up hope that this will change.

People wondered aloud why it was that the US was going to war in Iraq. Oil, 'Terror', Saddam, Iran, Israel, all of the above, these were regularly cited. In the end though it has really been about one thing. Profit, personal and corporate. The 'cost': US$500bn, 500,000 dead Iraqis, 3000+ dead western soldiers. The 'benefit' years of profitable revenue streams for major US corporations and a hold over huge oil reserves. For George W and his neo-con mates all the shit, blood and guts is but a trifle. They exemplify the concept of a criminal regime.

Borat

2007-01-04T15:22:00.000+13:00

A lot has been written and spoken about Borat the movie. I went and caught the last showing at the local multiplex last night.

In essence it is a film about ignorance and intellectual snobbery that is too snobby itself to connect with much of its audience in anything other than a superficial way, and not intellectual enough to connect solidly with the remainder of the audience who, as a result of the accidents of upbringing, ethnic origin and education, would actually get the few references and attempts at irony of which there are a smattering. It is also full of moments of barely comic crudity and crassness. It is also, sadly, quite enjoyable.

The shots of Cohen squatting in the flowerbed outside a Manhattan office block, naked 'wrestling' with his grossly overweight screen buddy or the surely to be notorious dinner party-'pooping' moment are true slapstick. On the other hand his humiliation of several randomly interviewed individuals, at rodeos and on the street would be funny if they were truly original but sadly Ali G and Louis Theroux have already cornered this market. The joke 'let's go back to New York, there are no Jews there' fell totally flat here in Coffs. Not surprising. Why should such a reference, typical of the film's humour and definitive of its ironic slant, appeal to Middle Australia or indeed anyone outside of metropolitan elites in the Northern Hemisphere?

The film is edgy and has moments showing the talent that has got Baron-Cohen both into Cambridge and as far as this in the world of entertainment. It made me laugh and it made me, as an outsider here and also as a British Jew, feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I was laughing at the film, sometimes at the film maker and sometimes at the audience of which I was a part. I think that this may be what the writers intended. If so then the film is a success. If they intended also to illuminate the ignorant then they may have ended up being too clever for their own good.

Kenny

2006-12-29T23:05:00.000+13:00

We watched Kenny the other night. It's an Aussie film about the common man, common decency and being bottom of the pile (excuse the pun).

What we all enjoyed so much about it was the typically wry and tongue in cheek use of language and timing that both good Brit and Aussie films make use of.

The film does have a serious point or two but these are happily lost under the deluge of comic material and poignant moments. On the serious side is the idea that we always seem to take the basic functions of life and those who deal with them as being somehow worth less than the higher callings and activities. Is painting really more important than pooing for instance? In a more lighthearted vein the makers constantly poke fun at Aussie stereotypes of workmen, men in general and the world of work. The first line of questioning that Kenny undertakes with a prospect on the phone is to ascertain whether or not curry is on the menu at the function requiring portable toilets. This seems to have some bearing on the number of units per 100 guests that will be required. Also, the company Kenny works for is called Splashdown Corporate Bathrooms which actually appears to be a real company. Brilliant!

For those (like me) with a distinctly scattalogical humouristic bent this film will appeal massively, but it is also distinctly redolent of the earthier notes emanating from middle Australia in all its glory.

Why did I go to Mysore?

2006-12-26T22:44:00.000+13:00

Early on in my visit to Mysore I wondered briefly what exactly it was I was doing there. The other day, whilst enjoying a barbeque at Bronte beach a friend of mine asked me how the trip there had impacted my yoga. I said that it simply had helped me to understand my own practice much better. My practice is a lot slower now, and better focused I suppose. Still can't do Marichyasana D though. But it is coming!

We did a bit of a rainforest and gravel road circuit today. I always enjoy trips into the bush and forest in Australia. I find the landscape and natural environment so balanced to my eye. Such spare subtlety in the shades of brown, yellow and grey, with dusty greens setting it all off in the dryness.

As we walked 30 minutes each way on a random fire break, climbing a slight gradient in the cool pre-sunshine air, we wondered if the undulating mass rasp coming from the stands of gum to our left and right were somehow responding to our passage. Did the cicadas soften or intensify their calls to one another as we strode by? Stopping briefly as the clouds of sound once more built to a virtually ear splitting crescendo, a piercing top note like a distress whistle seeming almost to protrude from the canopy, we listened and heard the sound, more wave like now, recede gradually over a period of 20 seconds or so to near silence. The colony was in warm up mode, fine tuning for the day ahead.

Coffs Harbor

2006-12-24T14:23:00.000+13:00

Coffs Harbor.

Its got a bit of Benidorm, some of Noosa and not many people, even at this time of year. It also reminds me of Southern Cal quite a lot tho with far fewer cars. My sister and I went out last night to see what the locals do for fun and ended up having an orange juice and a soda water in the Coffs Harbour Hotel which seemed about 60% full before heading down the road to The Plantation - the single local 'nitespot' - where we were refused entry because I was wearing thongs (that is flip flops english people. I'll leave the over the shoulder swim wear thong wearing to people like the group of French guys I saw on the beach in Goa. They had flouro green and pink ones). This was probably a lucky escape because the 'band' (The Vinyl Slingers) who were 'headlining' inside were carrying out a vicious and frenzied attack on several well known and loved rock tunes. A pure Green and Gold moment to savour.

Luckily for us the area is peppered with lovely beaches and beautiful national parks. The weather's not too bad either and the seafood is pukka.

This morning I got up to practice and was struck by the thought that I could well be the only person doing the primary series for several hours in each direction. Westwards and eastwards this could possibly extend to days since one might have to go to Brazil to have a hope of bumping into anyone doing anything similar. These are sketchy latitudes. Anyway, did it and really enjoyed the outside yoga. The sweat does its job, evaporating nicely and keeping ones temperature very comfortable.

Shortly afterwards, as we ate breakfast, I got a text from mates in NZ who have been getting my post. I gather I am now a Kiwi! Yes! A New Zealander. It took nearly a year to process but they got there in the end. A big thankyou to Albie Coetzee at the New Zealand Department of Internal Affairs. I'm not sure why it feels so good. Perhaps it's the sheer novelty of being able to have two passports.

banana puja

2006-12-16T13:16:00.000+13:00

The sweet smelling incense sticks were impaled thoughfully into the pair of small bruised bananas nestling together on the dashboard. Freshly pujad the taxi was taking me across a strangely becalmed Bangalore, to the airport. The traffic seemed almost peaceful and we passed a tranquil, round park caught in the slanting 5.30pm sun's rays where a few large family groups gathered under trees boasting bright pink blossom. Yellow flowered borders meandered around it all. I savoured the leisurely drive through the city as I had savoured the mediocre vegetable biriyani at the railway station. It was all beautiful.

In response to my enquiry as to whether or not there was some kind of holiday which might explain the quiet traffic the driver simply looked at his watch and tried again to add Rs25 to the previously agreed fare. I glared into the rearview mirror at him.

At the airport no-one had heard of a flight with my number. The airport staff seemed to believe the date was the 16th, not the 15th which it actually was. Having won that dispute I had still to wait for the Singapore airlines staff to arrive an hour later to clear up the confusion and ascertain that all was fine, I was on the flight but it was leaving 3 hours late and had a different number to that on my ticket.

Now at slick Changi Airport in Singapore. A bigger contrast to India might be possible to find but only if all the staff here had antennae and scooped insects from the air with their tongues as a passtime.

Looking forward to Sydney and catching up with Mum and Sis, hearing about their trip and also to a Sunday morning practice at ashtanga yoga space in Paddington. Laid back Aussie hols are looking good.

2006-12-10T17:51:00.000+13:00

Today is my 'day off'.

This is a good thing because a) the randomly picked hotel here in Panjim (Elite Lodge - don't go there. Clearly I am a sucker for a fresh paint job and a ludicrously unlikely name) was of the 'too grubby to unroll your mat' variety and b) the hotel here in Panjim was also of the 'the mattress is infested with something and you can't sleep for scratching all night' variety. It was also c) of the R150/night, noisy with no glass in the windows variety. So, I am a bit tired. This was the reason that I stared at the menu in the restaurant this morning for a little while longer than might be reasonable. Not, as the kind man opposite me assumed, because I just got here and cannot imagine what the words Masala Dosa might mean once on a plate.

Getting the plane back to Bangalore today feels like it might be a relief. For the first time since I have been in India I have a sensation like leaving might be a little bit of a relief in fact. Could just be the tiredness though.

Aaaaah. 5 days in Mysore. Probably just go to the pool and have a little reflect on the whole thing I think. I have done my pre-tanning for Australia here in Goa and the Southern Star will facilitate the post-pretan phase prior to fully prone pigmentation promotion. Of which there will be much. I might have to fend off the sister's attempts to get me out clubbing loads as the mornings are precious for practice.

Gabby Gabby Gabby

2006-12-09T22:43:00.000+13:00

She is a great teacher - why does she have to be based in such a dodgy part of India?

Rupee for Rupee I would say that she offers the best value ashtanga ANYWHERE on the planet. The shala is a bamboo hut set in a small gully looking out onto Little Vagator beach. Perfect. There is a very small group of people with a very laid back non-ego unhyped european/south american type ambience. That is great (know what I mean....?;=). She is a very observant, committed and energetically minded teacher. No bullshit about this lady. Awesome.

Serious yoga. But ya gotta put up with Vagator and environs.

fly blown Goa

2006-12-06T18:43:00.000+13:00

There is a very fly blown juice bar in Chapora frequented by sweaty junkies, and the juices aren't bad. Set dankly amongst the layers of grime, tat, commercialism and history that make up places like this some 4 centuries after European powers arrived the juice bar churns out R25 treats customers for whom an early morning means 1pm.

Once villages, now holiday camps of a very specific type, these communities have simply had to adapt and live with the hoards who keep coming in ever increasing numbers in the now invisible wake of the first Hippy visitors of the late 60s and early 70s who arrived when this was still a viable fishing community.

I'm staying in Vagator which is still party central but with more of a breeze and less outright debauchery visible to the naked eye. On the upside we have here a great yoga teacher in the person of Gabriella Pascoli who is aided and complemented by her assistant Michael. I've never had so much input in 1 class. Sometimes both of them are on you at once. The perfect antidote to Mysore where the numbers of students involved make any meaningful teaching continuity impossible in the short term. Thank god!

The main question that has crossed my mind in the last couple of days is:

'Where in the world can one go to practice and learn Ashtanga and find a grounded and truly peaceful environment too?'

One could reply that yoga (like Ind-yah) is a state of mind. Indeed. However, as suggestible as the next person I have to admit to being influenced by the world around me. And it doesn't always feel that great.

Yesterday, after too much sun and beach the previous day, I went to the fabulously airconditioned multiplex cinema in Panaji, the European tinged capital of Goa, to see Casino Royale with Daniel Craig having a stab at 007. You know what? In contrast to the last effort, which was directed by Lee Tamahori, it's pretty good! Formulaic by definition of course but also fresh and up to date, without too much play on the gadgets (the fx crew seems to have realised like the rest of the world that, yes, the mobile phone is actually taking over every function known to humankind) and enough sharp edged self referencing humour to spice up the cliches. More like that please.

2006-11-25T23:36:00.000+13:00

I have moved back into the hills for a couple of days in the Wayanad region, known in these parts for the wildlife sanctuary that is the main attraction. A small group of towns, the two largest being Kalpetta and Sulthan Battery, make good bases from which to explore the sanctuary, jain temples and caves of the region.

The weather has improved a bit from the conditions further south while I was at bodhi zendo and we now have 27C, sunny and very humid. Haresh, a 27 year old slightly overweight chemistry MSc who I got talking to on the bus here tells me that this is definitely the best time of year to be here though. From April onwards as the monsoon builds humidity builds from very humid to stupidly humid. Even the locals are drenched in sweat some of the time. Mental note - always come to Kerala after July.

Leaving Kozhikode this morning, after catching a few soul destroying hours of the first Ashes test from Brisbane, the bus hammered along towards what looked like an enormous cloud bank, ominously grey and weighty. I assumed for an hour or so that we were in for a soaking. As we covered more ground, swerving dangerously along the main streets of small towns, the exhaust pipe of the bus emitting a sound similar to a large calibre machine gun particularly at mid-gear revs, the cloud bank resolved intself into the Western Ghats. Above, if one dipped one's head to look out of the side of the windowless bus, was the hazy washed out blue of the sky, and rising towards it was a sheer wall of foothills that began abruptly from the fertile plains on this thin strip of coast. The Ghats are narrow here and it was simply a few hairpin turns and 30 minutes before we were travelling across a plateau, now covered by a mixture of plantations from cardamom, vanilla, tea and sugar palm to rice paddies and bush clad hillsides. Monkeys scampered across the road ahead dodging road works and potholes as the bus barreled along. These bus drivers can pull some interesting overtaking moves.

My discussions with Haresh were proving fruitful. Apparently the reason for the apparent boom in North Kerala is not really to do with domestic economics. It seems that, like Philippinos for example, Keralans are big migrant labourers. Millions work overseas, mostly in the Middle East (West Asia as it is known here). It is the remmitances from the 3 or 4 million Keralans slaving away overseas that is now boosting local family incomes here. Still, lets not get excited. Haresh, qualified as he is, and his wife, with a similar education in Physics, together earn about Rs10,000 per month. GBP120. In addition, there is definitely some serious inflation in sectors of the local economy here. Commodity prices have risen inexorably around the world over the last few years, pulled higher by the combination of monetary pump priming in the US and Chinese hypergrowth. If your main expenses include cooking oil, bus fares and rice then your household budget may be more highly impacted by this than households with higher incomes and more diversified consumption patterns. Unsurprisingly Haresh would love to go overseas. Almost anywhere. To do almost anything. He talked about a local saying, 'Shining India'. An evocative phrase indeed. Aspirations here are high. For some they may be fulfilled.

I am a museum

2006-11-22T19:36:00.000+13:00

As someone who effortlessly brushes off hawkers and touts (for some reason) and who does not feature regularly on any of the '10 most sexy...' lists I can honestly and without modesty say that I am unaccustomed to objectification. However, this sultry bustling and panic laced lunch time on the streets of Thrissur, the cultural capital of Kerala, I can report that I was by all measures possible at the time more interesting than the State Archaeology Museum first thing today.

Having eased open the 12 foot wrought metal gates at what turned out to be the back of the museum and taken an unplanned turn around the Heritage garden to the side of the building I was actually enchanted to find a beautiful pond and carved stone fountain at its centre. I say actually because it is not a sensation I am used to feeling. But I was. The fountain was becalming, beautiful and clean, a trio rarely found in unison at these latitudes. Dark pink lotus flowers were spread evenly over the surface of the pond, interspersed with the shiny lushness of their leaves. The font at the centre of the round pond was carved to resemble a chunky spiral staircase, 10 foot high with only every 3rd step in place. Not another soul shared this with me although the city could be heard all around and the nagging smell of animal dung seemed to drift around sporadically. It was only when I looked over the wall at the west side of the garden to see what was producing the drumming and percussion I could hear that I saw a large bull elephant, in leg chains, at rest. Using a palm frond as a fly swat it was swaying forward and back between a half pace slowly expelling generous quantities of poorly digested plant matter. These rugby ball sized pellets reminded me of the glops of white hot glass that appear down the shoot in a bottle factory just prior to their flowing into the casts.

At the front of the museum, where the doors were 5 minutes late opening, I saw that I was to be joined in my wait by a party of schoolgirls whose teachers did little to control the surge towards me that their charges seemed to make.

'What is your good name?'
'Where is your native place?'
'How are you?'
'How are you?'

As their heads turned and their hair bows followed it was like watching a sort of collection of interconnected beings, whose individual movements passed a charge causing the next to also pass it on in turn. A small crowd of eyes, with teachers trying to remain dignified in the face of my incomprehensibly accented replies to their exemplar questions, flashed and blinked in the dark unblemished faces. Once inside the museum however the exhibits proved too much and I was relegated. Of less interest, and certainly less importance, than the wonders of the house of the Cochi Royal Family.

I particularly liked the 18th centuy marble buddhas who sat in lotus position and held their hands in the mudras for universal love and knowledge. No more than 6 inches high their typical serenity was given an unusual liquid quality by the medium.

Tamil Nadu

2006-11-10T19:40:00.000+13:00

It rained for 3 hours of the 7 hour train ride south from Bangalore to Coimbatore, my half way stop on the trail to Zen. The 2nd class sleeper, no bedding provided just bare pvc covered bunks and barred, slatted windows, was full of human cargo and redolent with piss. Water was leeching through the window frames to mix with seepage from other parts of the carriage and run across the floor like oil legs on a hot griddle pan at around 5am when I de-bunked and got ready to detrain. Those 3 hours of rain translate into about 200kms of track. Solid, dark, murky foetid rain.

I readied my pack to step down and noticed a pocket right on the bottom which had never caught my attention before. It contained a blue rain protector which handily covers the whole pack.

Out onto the dark and grimy platform, seemingly covered in a disarray of things resembling wool sacks, red LCD clocks and notices flash a dubious and dissonant welcome. A walk through the platform underpass becomes a wade as brown water inches its way out of some unseen opening to cover the floor. The women in front dawdle under their huge head balanced loads. Those of us behind feel the murk swish tepidly around our feet. Everyone is feeling squeamish, you can see it on their faces, but there is nothing to be done, it is a moment of displeasure in what for many must be a life full to the brim of far more distasteful matters.

It is surprisingly calm in the early morning gloom of the station entry hall. Crowds just outside huddle under the roof awnings in the hope that this rain will peter out soon but the road cutting left to right across the view of hotels, broken pavements and swamped autorickshaws is actually a torrent. A cow, silhouetted by flourescent lights and neon flashes, is in the middle of the street up to its knees in the rippling flow.

Three police sit at a wooden desk, one dozes head down stll grasping his cane. I ask the other two the way to the hotel which they have never heard of. The woman corporal laughs at me softly, shyly, to her colleague. I have taken off my flip flops, rolled up the jeans and thankfully drawn up my hood for the river crossing ahead.

2006-11-06T21:44:00.000+13:00

Just been to sort things for departure, like buying a trunk to store stuff in that won't be leaving Mysore - speakers, bedding etc.

Leaving Wednesday, first to Bangalore to drop mum off to her flight early Thursday morn. Will be seeing her (and sis) a month or so later in Australia. Gotta love these multi month holidays.

After that I will be heading to Tamil Nadu, further south, where up in the cool and verdant Palani Hills the place known as Bodhi Zendo is to be found. I will be there for a couple of weeks, maybe longer, then I plan to make my way to Goa. But you know what they say about plans.

A backet fell out of moy vagina

2006-11-03T19:22:00.000+13:00

Nice eh? That is what S (from WA) came up with as a contribution to the discussion about strange excretions/sensations we were having. Apparently said bucket expelled somewhere in the Arizonan desert. Nobody actually knows why. I can't match it for sheer spontaneity and shock value (she wasn't pregnant at the time) but I have had a few wierd things going on to which I refuse to become attached in any way. The only thing that is worth mentioning is the following event:

I am walking down the street here in Gokulam having nipped into the hospital to get my dressing changed (the cut is no longer 'paining' and is in fact healing 'nicely' now) when a random dude walks past me carrying a big bag of cement on his head. As he draws level he says to me the word 'Srirangapatnam', which is the name of a place outside Mysore that I was just then thinking about. This has happened to me 3 times since I've been here. How do they know what I am thinking?

2006-11-01T19:13:00.000+13:00

I'm leaving Mysore in a week to take Mum to Bangalore. After that I'm gonna take a little trip down to Tamil Nadu, the neighbouring state, for a little look see. A couple of weeks there will be good, up in the hills, cool, peaceful and rural(ish). Still planning on Goa but I really felt that 5 whole weeks in Israeli raver central (even if still doing yoga) might take the shine off things a little.

Quiet here at the moment, just going to a cooking class this afternoon. Still going to the hospital evey 2 days to get the dressing changed on the cut, which is slowly healing up. Big (ok, not that big, don't get too excited) juicy scar likely. Hopefully it will be in place before the travelling next week.

This weekend mum and I are going on a (very small) excursion to Srirangapatnam, just outside Mysore, where we will explore the local bird reserve and a colourful fountain ceremony on the Saturday night.

For those interested in such things - yogawise this has been an eventful trip, mainly because of the crash which has affected my practice in many ways. I've had the best part of 2 weeks off in total and at the moment I'm off jumps because of the risk of opening up 'the cut'....nonetheless physically I have certainly opened up in the shoulders and am sweating lots less than ever before. Not really lathered up until prasarita pad. Now that is a result. Those chilly NZ mornings could be interesting. Mari D is still a way off but mainly now because my left medial collateral ligament is getting sore and protesting that I'm rushing too fast. So much for Sharath's prediction that it would take me a week. It has got closer though. And he told me to go on and do Navasana and Buja pidasana anyway just to mix it up a bit ( I suppose). I'm still easily the first to finish. On the non-physical side of things I have watched some impatience with things come and go though it has never been predominant. My concentration is a lot better, more focused, less easily broken and the practice seems to whip by now which is a huge contrast to, say, the start of last year when it all seemed quite lengthy.

The comment on rhe previous entry relating to injuries rings true to me. Ashtanga people are more aware of (and obsessed by) the state of their bodies. They do get lots of injuries though, and practice when it might not be the absolute best option for them physically. Attachement to the practice of yoga can be a big issue for the individual and those that know them, but is it any bigger than the other attachments we have - to foodstuffs, diet, drinking, relationships, work, status, possesions and so on.

All of which can provide variously excuses, distractions and rationales for not paying attention to the real issues we all must confront sooner or later - of living well, loving well and understanding our own pain and that of others as well as celebrating the joys of life and trying to see things for what they perhaps really are in this world......

Coetzee, homesickness and injuries

2006-10-29T21:36:00.000+13:00

I hope JM Coetzee won’t mind me printing a small and beautiful extract by him from ‘Life and times of Michael K’, which I particularly enjoyed this afternoon:

“But most of all as summer slanted to an end, he was learning to love idleness, idleness no longer as stretches of freedom reclaimed by stealth here and there from involuntary labour, surreptitious thefts to be enjoyed sitting on his heels before a flower-bed with a fork dangling from his fingers, but as a yielding up of himself to time, to a time flowing slowly like oil from horizon to horizon over the face of the world, washing over his body, circulating in his armpits and his groin, stirring his eyelids. He was neither pleased nor displeased when there was work to do; it was all the same. He could lie all afternoon with his eyes open staring at the corrugations in the roof-iron and the tracings of rust: his mind would not wander, he would see nothing but the iron, the lines would not form themselves into pattern or fantasy: he was himself, lying in his own house, the rust was merely rust, all that was moving was time, bearing him onward in its flow.”

----------

When people talk about being homesick there is of course lots of focus on the ‘sick’ part of that equation. My attention is drawn by a small bout to the ‘home’ aspect however. I suddenly felt a bit homesick early this afternoon and it took a while to recognise the feelings. It’s only the third time I have experienced this since leaving the UK in early 2002, which is nice, and when it has arisen previously I have been in NZ. Now I am in India of course and 2 months of Mysore style existence has taken its small toll. I am homesick but for no particular home, or perhaps two at once – the UK and NZ. My thoughts on this flit between the two locations, without satisfaction, and also I dwell briefly on individuals from both places, but without any coalescence of feelings which might indicate that the true lack has been found and could thus be remedied.

Homesick for nowhere and no-one.

----------

This list is a little casualty roll call typical (at the moment, and I’m sure most of the time) of folk doing yoga here. Anonymity is respected!

D: Torn meniscus, left knee. Modified practice
T: Strained back muscles, mainly due to mild and constant dehydration but brought on by the practice. No practice
S: Pulled lateral collateral ligament, left knee. Modified practice
J: Pulled hamstring. Practicing
K: Took tumble down stairs 12 days ago and hurt left foot. Continued practicing with mild discomfort until the pain got too annoying and s/he got an x ray. Broken 5th metatarsal. No practice.
G: Mild stomach aches. Practicing
G: Recovering from mild dysentery. Practicing
Me: Infected cut (now open and clean) on left instep from scooter crash 2 ½ weeks ago. No practice until healed up
O: Chronic bronchitis. Practicing
T: Acute back pains in SI region. No practice

And that is just the stuff I know about…….

latest latest

2006-10-19T00:00:00.000+13:00

Sort of mega posting today as its been sometime and tho I had written some I had not had an opportunity (for reasons that become evident upon reading the previously posted entries) to actually bring my laptop to the wireless cafe.

Anyway, Mum is here which is good and she is settled in and enjoying her yoga! We have already got the routine - breakfast, today I made dhosas for the first time, followed by errands then lunch then nap then dinner. Nice!

Got her from the airport on Sunday at 530am, 2 hour drive each way. She was pretty freaked out by the Indian driving I have to say but to her credit she did relax a bit once we got out of Bangalore - which was totally crazy, cows and people all over the road, huge intersections with no one slowing down etc - and also once she saw that Lokesh is actually a good driver. So we were back in good ole Gokulam by 830am.

I had a second round of stomach stuff going on from late Saturday night which was pretty severe in terms of fluid loss - huge - but not uncomfortable. Got on the rehydration salts once back here and felt right within a couple of hours. Got back to practice after a week's hiatus on Monday. That felt really good, and still feels good today.

2006-10-12T23:57:00.000+13:00

Well, they say a week is a long time in politics but it’s a lot longer in India.

And 12 days is even longer than a week.

And all the time I thought ‘nothing’ was happening.

About the middle of last week I went for my first Ayuverdic massage, courtesy of the much recommended Madhu whose house is a solid 20 minute scooter ride from the gilded and gated ashtanga community of Gokulam. There to greet me with his 800 year old, oil streaked teak massage bench was the man himself, perhaps my age, with 14 generations of family members’ massage heritage welling up through his eyes and hands. The massage itself, oil heavy and very intense (read painful), was an experience to say the least. I knew my hips had some tightness to work into but I think that using the greater trocanter as a fulcrum is not perhaps what evolution intended although that is what it seemed to me Madhu was trying to achieve in the latter stages. No wonder he was getting so out of breath.

He was out of breath after about 30 minutes – a real mark of how hard he was working. This allowed me a short respite after the back massage in which to get my (mental) breath and feel the first rush of endorphinous relief flood my system. You don’t know how much fear of pain you have until you start to experience it more deeply than any other time you care to remember. I had been thinking of a conversation over breakfast with M, from Spain and a ‘veteran’ of 8 Vipassana retreats, who spoke plainly and calmly of the emergence and dissipation of pain during lengthy meditations ‘it arises but as you examine it very often it melts away under the scrutiny…’. I had yet to reach those heights, despite huge mental enquiry, and although I realise that 30 minutes on a teak bench is not a long time to embark on a path to self abnegation it was the only option I felt was really practical.

So I had my forces marshalled for the front side instalment when Madhu returned. The barriers were breached almost immediately though and I found myself actually groaning in pain this time, with breathing very little help and a calm detachment about as likely as the observation of lane discipline at a major junction in Mysore. I grunted and grimaced my way through it. The relief was huge after that and I lay recovering for a good 15 minutes, thoughts of a shower, papaya smoothie and some reading began to surface. The hypnotic ‘Om’ chant emanating from the small speaker at the head of the bench suddenly came to my conscious attention and I listened gratefully to its soothing cadence. I figured that I had been there perhaps an hour or so. 750 rupees seemed like getting away lightly really.

Madhu returned, reinvigorated, his orange Lunghi seemingly more lumiscent than before, his bindi more intense and third-eye like, its power projecting outwards communicating the deeply spiritual nature and practice of the massage. It was time to get my sides done.

That was Wednesday I think. After, despite and because of that I felt pretty good. Someone had told me it was a stimulating massage and I can’t disagree with them.

On Friday J and I took the train to Bangalore for a quick shopping/city trip. We had bought aircon seats but found that, in these comfortable temperatures, the ordinary 2nd class cars are much better as the windows are open and one can have a chat with people easily while they have a good stare as is their wont. I don’t get stared at on my own, at least not so I’d notice, but women garner tons of attention and so the two of us weren’t short on gawps for the 3 hour ride to badly in need of repair platform 2 at Bangalore City station.

Having heard that Bangalore’s bar scene is second only to that of Mumbai we had in mind a decent night out followed by a half day shopping. The night out started well with the location of a decent Japanese restaurant – as good as any I have eaten in – which served deliciously fresh Unagi on rice. My favourite as it turns out. Back on the stinking street outside the block housing the restaurant we managed to hail a Rickshaw and go to one of the 4 bars we had targeted. It was empty. On a Friday night. As were the next three. We returned to the pleasantly white-roomed, cool and quiet hotel and decided that perhaps we weren’t cool enough for Bangalore after all. Contemplation of the reverse seemed churlish.

The next day we got bitten. First of all J found a small cockroach in her breakfast. I am fully aware that the Indian diet, to the limited degree with which I am familiar with it, may be a little deficient in proteins, but this was a step too far too soon. Okay, these things happen. Time to check out the newest shopping mall in Bangalore which as luck would have it was a short stroll from the hotel. After dodging the lepers, depilated three legged dogs and mosquito breeding farms/puddles on the way we got to the Garuda Mall to find that most shops were not open until 11am. It was 930 and our train was 2pm so we decided to regroup and head to a shop recommended by K as a good bet for towels and bedding – important as Mum is arriving on the 15th so I want to make sure she is comfortable.

The rickshaw ride there, once we had secured a ride that is, was over 10kms. We were still surrounded by a wholly urban landscape. We had the address of the shop but it was proving very hard to locate. In true travelling style everyone but noone knew where it was. Back and forward, up and down streets. Although I don’t want to do her a disservice I have to say that by this time J was basically getting pretty stroppy. Now, I’ve definitely been there when overseas and I understand how it happens so I wasn’t annoyed with her but it just makes things more complicated and aggravating to deal with. In the end I remembered I had the phone number of the shop. The person who answered initially sounded helpful and I only needed to repeat our location 3 times but my final utterance was met with a loud cackle followed by the sound of the line being cut. J shot me a look that might cause serious injury. We sheltered at the nearest Bharat Petroleum servo where considerate street kids entertained us with backflips, top spinning and overly persistent arm scratching. The shop kindly sent someone to get us. It was 20 metres from where we had initially been dropped. I bought some stuff.

It was now 12pm. The mission to get to the train station elided beautifully with the day thus far in terms of levels of frustration, uncertainty and heat but we did get there with 40 minutes to spare and the sight of the station alone was enough to coax the first smile from J since about 8.43am, just before the cockroach.

So we got back to Mysore on Saturday evening and I took a couple of remedies for a sore throat caused by the over efficient aircon in the hotel.

Sunday’s delights included a visit to the pool followed by a Vegan, Sattvic (look that one up yourself) charity lunch for Operation Shanti, a Mysore organisation dedicated to helping street mothers and children. For 150 rupees V and C kindly prepared about 5 salads, a couple of rice dishes and some garlic free (that’s the Sattvic bit) humus for the patrons. It was pretty good actually. Well done them. I left my sunglasses there and have yet to recover them.

On Monday, after a super high energy practice which had me convinced the signs of illness were in abeyance, I felt the need to go shopping at Fabindia – a great shop chain – in search of trousers as shorts are a bit of a no no really, unless one is of the lower castes and working on a building site carrying 10 bricks on your head. Ended up buying a nice shirt as the trousers weren’t up to much. We headed into town to get offers from a couple of tailors on trousers. No deal done yet. Lunch was booked over in Lakshmipuram, where the old KPJ shala is but before hand I had a bit of a list of stuff to accumulate in preparation for arrival of mum. Visits to supermarket and a couple of other stops were completed on the scooter before a rendezvous with S, R and T in order to travel over to lunch together on the bikes. I was enjoying the jeans and shirt look and felt comfortable even though the day was warm and sunny.

Lunch was delicious, although there was a little question mark about where the water had come from though this was raised after I had drank a fair bit so I tried not to think about it. The meal was one of the many available to yoga students which are served by enterprising Mysoreans in their own homes. We headed back towards Gokulam, and I ended up carrying J and S on the scooter together. Not strictly legal but often enough seen hereabouts. The long and the short of it was that I crashed into another bike on the way home. We all walked away no serious damage done for those more interested parties reading this but the aftermath has been somewhat protracted as we all recover. I got ill within hours, first with a painful stomach thing then with a cold which still has me laid out on Thursday afternoon. This on top of the two cuts to my leg which got cleaned up at the hospital and the precautionary Tetanus shot (cost – 4 rupees including syringe) to the hip which also probably made me feel extra lousy. J has a small cut to the left knee and S has no physical knocks but is pretty tired and just taking things extra easy. We were lucky, it could have been a lot worse so I am thankful. Scooter riding days are over for me. You gotta recognise when you can’t trust yourself!

Anyway, there’s till plenty of time for me to fully recover before mum arrives on Sunday morning and that’s great. I’m looking forward to welcoming her here and, as you will understand from the above, glad that I have decided to pick her up direct at the airport in a (chauffered) car and drive straight back to Mysore. 5 hour round trip and a lot more pleasant than battling through Bangalore. We can do another side trip to take care of her wish to do the Indian train thing eh?

2006-09-30T23:56:00.000+12:00

Why you need ear plugs to come to India.

Or ‘Christ mate it’s about as peaceful as a dance party at Gallipoli here’.

It is fair to say that New Zealand, for better and for worse, is one of the quietest countries you could ever live in. Edging it down the pecking order in this regard perhaps are places like rural Mongolia and Antarctica (on a still day). But, of the better frequented and more familiar territories one might come across NZ is right up there in the silence stakes. In the same way this is no surprise to anyone it should come as no shock to discover that India is securely fastened to the opposite end of the spectrum. But what does this mean in practice?

Maybe I’ve become more attuned in the relative quiet of leafy Gokulam, surely the Acacia Avenue of India, but the sound of the neighbour sweeping/rotavating the front yard with a broom made from what must be high tensile steel wire while playing a recorded loop of Buddhist sounding chanting at 430am is a fairly good example of the noise levels attainable, even in the small hours and with minimal, relatively primitive, equipment. The ante is normally upped around 5am when, for some unknown, unseen but precisely timed reason their guard dog goes bonkers and barks its little Indian head off. For about 11 minutes. If you slept through the ‘sweeping’ and chanting (oh, and flobbing, otherwise known as hawking, gobbing or spitting huge amounts of phlegm out) then the barking definitely ensures you get to peel yourself a new retina for the day. Around 530am, with the sun coming up, the first traffic might buzz by – hooting helpfully as the nearest corner is approached to avoid any possibility of collision – and this will continue throughout the day. Awesome. No danger of oversleeping. Ta.

And this is in a super quiet part of a super quiet neighbourhood. Having said that it is still a lot quieter than where I used to live in London. And I do have it pretty easy really. Other people have almost continuous domestic incidents running next door to them, or live on a seemingly quiet but apparently vital intersection via which a large proportion of the city’s scooters have to pass each day necessitating a logarithmic increase in hooting frequency and thus volume.

I seem stuck in sarcastic mode at the moment don’t I?

womens' wrestling

2006-09-29T22:41:00.000+12:00

Now that is something one does not get to see very frequently anywhere in the world. However, here in Mysore it is an annual event now as part of the Dasara celebrations.

There was a rumour circulating about the wrestling but I had to check it out for myself. After an early morning recce yesterday, which established a start time and entry arrangements (it is free), I assumed it would be heaving and so some of us got there early. Wrongfooted, as was evidenced by the empty stadium - only the police were early, including 4 women constables in khaki sarees, all of whom (except the women) were brandishing the power sticks otherwise known as bits of bamboo - we then loitered in the shade as best we could. The right hand side of the 'stadium' (capacity c. 1500) began to accrue a few newspaper-hat clad spectators and then, shortly after the appointed hour of 2 o'clock the first bouts got underway. Kites, of both types, circled overhead (and over the bare powerlines) in the clear sky, almost like vultures. Ready for potentially rich pickings to the untrained eye, but down below it was all about hand and foot speed, keeping the centre of gravity low and surreptitiously bitch slapping your opponent as hard as possible. The mens' bouts were pretty even and consequently lasted upto 15 minutes but when it came to the women, most of whom were probably around 16 or so, the bouts were over quickly. Technical levels were pretty mismatched across the regions in this national level competition for the women. But there was drama. With the Keralan VS Varamasuty looking like making it a cakewalk over the vastly underexperienced Bombay rookie LL 'lioness' Ganapathy from early on in the bout the tables were unexpectedly turned, and the crowd shocked into stunned indifference, when 'lioness' managed a throw on her opponent, which looked suspect from my angle and resulted in a hefty blow to the upper abdominal/lateral rib area (possibly bruising the Anterior Serratus muscle). VS managed to recover and put on a few holding moves before taking her revenge with a lightening leg swipe cleanly flooring the lioness. In a scene not remotely remeniscent of gladiator VS then hobbled to the edge of the mat having been declared winner but obviously about to collapse and give a bye to her next opponent. It's definitely the school of hard knocks for these girls.

Having got my India experience in for the day, and with everyone else I came with having already headed to the pool some 90 minutes earlier, I was totally sun blasted and decided to leave. On my way out though I bumped into more yoga people, sat with them and ate a coconut ball sweet thing or two before going 4 up with them in a motor rickshaw back to the leafy environs of Gokulam.

Go wrestling!

2006-09-26T17:49:00.000+12:00

Yesterday was a birthday - as I showered I remembered it was mine, which felt great, but then I actually forgot that fact even when discussing another birthday with a lovely kiwi lass while at the swimming pool later in the day. The other birthday was that of the Cave Swami who lives, in a cave somewhat predictably, half way up Chamundi Hill, a local landmark with a 1000 step climb to the top. CS apparently puts on an annual lunch for those who wish to attend. As it was it was chucking it down monsoon stylee all afternoon and then most of the night. I had my anatomy etc course to attend so did not get to bask in the birthday aura of the Cave Swami. In the end, having had a great day, I remembered over dinner that it was in fact my birthday too. This evening will have to do so the plan is to have a bit of supper with a few devotees at a quiet local place.

Om.

Taipei personality

2006-09-24T17:13:00.000+12:00

Normally I’m terrible with names. For some reason though, at the moment I am really onto it. I just need to meet and be introduced to someone and I remember their name immediately. Of course they almost always forget mine and have to ask the next time we meet at breakfast/lunch/wherever. However since everyone else is forgetting theirs it doesn’t matter. It all evens out. It’s just pretty handy for me. A Good Trick to have.

Today is the start of Desara, which I believe is a festival to mark the start of autumn in these parts, and so the next 10 days or so are filled with all kinds of festive things. I have yet to research what exactly but there is a good website which I will investigate and post here (as you will see my understanding of the meaning of the festival was way off the mark). I also learnt from an Israeli Sanskrit scholar who is here furthering her studies that my teacher’s name, Sharath, actually means autumn. Not surprising since he was born on September 29th, just 4 days after me.

Yesterday went to the Southern Star hotel to sit by the pool for a couple of hours. It is a totally dull hotel, devoid of any charisma and with stunningly slow poolside service. There are other options and I will be exploring them, although it’s a useful backstop.

Next week I will be attending a short course over 5 evenings, run by K from California who is a practitioner of Structural Integration, a form of bodywork known as Rolfing after the woman who devised it, which will present western Anatomy, Kinesiology and Physiology of the musculoskeletal, respiratory and nervous systems as they relate to the eastern practice of yoga. This is a) because it sounds really interesting and K is very articulate and knowledgeable and b) because I think a better understanding of these areas could help to avoid injury problems down the line and help me to understand some of what I might be doing to myself physically by doing this particular activity. That’s pretty important. I was also chatting to K about doing a course of SI and may do so in the future. One of his little pitches is that a course of Rolfing can allow your body to move as far in 1 year through the asana practice as it would normally take 5 years to do. Now that is some claim. Wanting to get to the ‘next step’ is a common theme one encounters when hanging out with ashtanga people – the next series, asana etc – but a valid question is why? There is no substantive answer unfortunately. Often it comes down to wanting to feel like there is some sort of ‘progress’ and thus a ‘reason’ for doing something that can be very demanding. Progress to what is unclear and I point to a previous post of mine as a little rejoinder. Nonetheless, it’s there and it’s around when discussion turns to ashtanga. Anyway, the 5 years into 1 thing fits in with this neatly and so will no doubt appeal to a lot of people I have met here who really want to get onto the ‘next bit’ of their practice. Let me know what it's like when you get there.

Hot house. Now that’s not a phrase one mentions too often in polite company round here. There are some very competitive people who do ashtanga. I would only say that one can quite patently take the student out of the classroom, but you can’t take the classroom out of the student. Some nationalities are more prone than others, at least to my untrained and subjective eye….

There’s also the type A personality (or Taipei personality as I saw on an airline billboard advert for flights to Taiwan out of LA) thing which plugs right in to all that. As a confirmed B student with occasional flashes of As – because again what’s the point? Show me and I’ll do it. My motivation probably comes most from the gaining of autonomy rather than anything else - who comes from a family of type A A students, I think I know kind of what I’m talking about in a homespun way.

Lunch time. Dosa with coconut chutney, masala sauce and a fried chilli. 20 rupees.

2006-09-22T02:01:00.000+12:00

Got a flatmate until my mother arrives - which is pretty nice. T, from California. Also investigated yoga teachers for mum - there is one right round the corner, the most recommended one, having asked a few people. She needs to commit to 2 weeks though - will she do it? I think she should. Ha! haven't even spoken to her about it yet - she may read this before speaking to me even...

In other news, tomorrow is a moon day- so no yoga. Weirdly it turns out that with Sharath we do practice on Saturdays which means that I could have ended up doing 7 (gasp) consecutive days of practice. Surely that is illegal I am hearing you saying. Nope. Sharath has spoken.

2006-09-19T02:00:00.000+12:00

OK, the first rule of fight club etc…but I don’t think the following ‘reflection’ really counts because it concerns a sort of peripheral/meta issue, at least as far as the asana practice goes and doesn’t go into the ‘ow my hip ached when I tried to insert my coccyx into my left eustachian tube while gazing toward the event horizon’ kind of category. ‘Reflection’ because this concept itself implies some sort of contemplative review of an accumulation of experience but in reality the little nugget to follow is nothing more than a blogflection based on a few transient emotions occurring in a heart beat. Blogs are immediate, but appear reflective, and thus allow regurgitation of notions, synapse flashes and semi-thoughts under the guise of reflection. A blogflection.

Today was only my second practice here. The weird thing is how much anxiety I noticed arising as the time approached. I am not used to practicing in a shala as there is not one in Hawkes Bay and, particularly for the last few months, I have been practicing at home, when I want, whenever I want. I’ve really enjoyed this. Where did this anxiety come from? It has to do of course with the newness, the unfamiliarity and the sheer fact of being here. Oh yeah, and ego…

On the other hand, in savasana I had a good giggle to myself about something. Can’t remember what though.

Priority number 1 tomorrow – enjoy the practice. Enjoy the sweat, enjoy every stretch, enjoy doing the things that come and enjoy trying to do the things that don’t. Enjoy.

had breakfast with a couple of folk from practice. Kiwis as it turned out – go kiwis!

early early

2006-09-18T22:54:00.000+12:00

For those people who read ashtanga blogs this may all sound a bit familiar but, whatever, it's all local colour....

It’s still dark outside and there is a surprising lack of any noise at all from outside. Not that Gokulam is particularly noisy even in the day. People buzz around on mopeds and the odd fruit or kitchenware seller passes by with a friendly shout to alert the neighbourhood to his presence but that is it really. The absence of any noise at all at 430am is more surprising because normally when in ‘the tropics’ one would of course expect to hear nature doing its thing. Insects and frogs, that might make quite a cacophony, usually create a vivid, pulsating eventually subconscious backdrop to sleep. Here there is nothing.

When we landed at Bangalore I noticed the altitude on the ground was nearly a thousand metres. Mysore is only a little lower at around 700 metres (I think). Thus the air is cool from evening onwards at this time of year. In fact the climate is pretty much perfect. Daytime highs up to 25Cish, 24 hour lows perhaps 17-18C with quite low humidity. It’s easy and very liveable here as the tail-end of the monsoon ebbs away.

So maybe the fact of this relative coolness means that insects and frogs prefer to provide their soundscape elsewhere.

This being India there are of course many other animals shuffling, trotting, sauntering, climbing, fluttering, flapping and skittering their way in and out of the picture. Yep, bony holy cows chewing plastic bags and shitting in the street but also the odd gecko on the bathroom tap. From my hotel window in Mysore I watched a small troop of monkeys, like small children at a bit of distance, shin down the drainpipe on a peeling nicotine coloured wall across the vacant and overgrown lot. Now I am in my apartment in the leafy and very pleasant ‘suburbs’ there are flocks of green parakeets wheeling around the rooftops and the odd sow with her piglets cleaning the streets of the detritus of which there is an endless supply. A little note from the landlord comments on a few of the finer points of inhabiting these few rooms, such as buying detergent so the maid can wash the clothes and turning off lights when going out. There is also the remark ‘Drop tissue paper after use into a small plastic bag. The cleaning lady disposes of it through the scavengers’. Obviously the use of toilet paper is a European oddity resulting in the buildup of expended sheets. Indians are far more eco-friendly. Who are The Scavengers then? This is a little reminder of the fact that, unseen and beyond the cosy confines of Gokulam, there exist microcosms and communities covering the full spectrum of biodiversity that depend entirely on the waste of others. In other words another person may find a use for our used toilet paper.

Having said that, on first impressions Mysore really isn’t that hardcore. So far I have only seen one person asleep actually in the middle of the road (at least I assume he was asleep) and a couple of people missing limbs. There is a huge bustle and throng on the streets of course and the markets and parades of shops are all busy and well stocked. Compared to Madagascar for example, where a man with his left eye hanging out followed us around a market which more closely resembled a shanty town, where some of the better produce on offer were cracked, dirty and empty bic biro tubes and smoked rats, this all compares very favourably. Which is all to the good as I have no need of any travel rites of passage. I think I’ve had a couple of them in the past and they weren’t always that much fun.

In keeping with this I must say that it is extremely easy to come here, get to Mysore and find oneself a place to stay for a few weeks or months. In this suburb things are very much laid on for the yoga devotee. Local service providers appear in the hiatus between alighting from the auto rickshaw and fully grasping the handle on your laptop case to begin walking. They have it all worked out and can show you a few apartments within an hour or so, introducing the landlords and explaining the subtler points of drinking water provision or broadband connection in a flash. They know yoga students, who after all have been coming here in relatively large numbers for at least 10, perhaps 15 years. For a very small fee they will sort you out in no time at all with whatever might make life more comfortable and convenient.

My simply furnished two bedroom apartment, which has ensuite European bathrooms (I would actually have preferred to squat but beggars can’t be choosers), plenty of space and access to a terrace roof costs around GBP100/NZD300 per month including electric and the maid. The yoga is just under GBP200/NZD600 per month.

The apartment is mid-street, important because near the junctions people toot their horns when passing through, on the top floor of two and has similar apartments either side both of which are taken. I went and said hello to my neighbours yesterday. Good guys.

Yesterday evening (Sunday) I went into town, a 10 minute ride, and sifted around buying some adaptors and trying to find mossie coils and blankets. Had a bit of mutter paneer for dinner and then walked around some more to get a feel for the place, asking people the name of this street or that market and realising that the city is pretty manageable in size and scope. It is only 1 million people of course, tiny in Indian terms and ultra compact by NZ standards. Unexpectedly I also coincided with the highlight of the sightseeing week round these parts which is the illumination of the huge and impressive old Mysore Palace by (gasp!) 100,000 lightbulbs (ungasp!). It was pretty cool. I could almost sense the local electricity grid straining to keep up and I’m sure the street lights pulsed and dimmed as the palace lights went on. That is probably a very tired old joke in this locale.

Anyway, it’s just getting light now and will soon be time to get myself sorted for the first practice with Sharath

fight club

2006-09-18T22:44:00.000+12:00

and the first rule is...?

So I won't.

Has anyone ever found that doing ashtanga means you end up with little knots in your underarm hair? Weird.

Also, practicing alone has many advantages. Fewer distractions, a more mindful practice being among them. Oh, and you can break wind massively with total impunity.

You can take the boy out of Kindy but you can't take the Kindy out of the boy.

Also, who on earth is reading this blog from Northern India? Are you having a good time dude?

Sorted

2006-09-17T17:15:00.000+12:00

It's pretty quiet round here. There aren't many foreigners around yet. Thus finding a nice apartment has been easy and the general vibe is very laid back.

Checked out of my hotel in town and got a rickshaw out to Gokulam, cool, leafy and where the shalas are, early this morning. The apartment is large, airy and on the top floor of 2 storeys, and it also happens to be 2 minutes walk across a small palm fringed park to the new shala where Sharath does his classes and where I will be attending, along with towel for buckets of sweat, scabby rubber mat and helpless expectation, as of tomorrow. The owners showed me their 'guest book' with names and addresses of all who have lived there and I was a little suprised to see the name of a yoga teacher who lives round the corner from my mother in Norwich. I knew she had been here as her blog was on ashtangi.net while she was here (I can't find it now). After living in NZ for 4 years I shouldn't be surprised by the small world factor. But I am. Other than Norwich yoga teacher there were many americans, a few aussies and brits and zero kiwis. No frenchies either....

Anyway, unpacked which took about 48 seconds, then did some yoga. Next I went looking for breakfast but got talking to S. Ganapathy, my landlord, who is a retired Ministry of Defence functionary. His unemployed, but highly qualified, son listened in while the lady of the house performed an unknown puja elsewhere in the house.

dateline india

2006-09-16T20:48:00.001+12:00

Things are never how you expect them to be - particularly countries. That is until I arrived in India. Definitely still in jetlag/arrival phase but the impression is living up to the stereotypes, good and bad - typified by the mixture of smells, from jasmine to dead rats rotting in the sun.

It's not technically my first time here though there has been about a 30 year gap between visits. I'm not really sure if the 4 year old who was lead by his parents through the streets of Calcutta, barefoot and stepping painfully on lit cigarette butts, really counts as the same person that is here now. Interestingly though there is lots that is familiar, in fact it doesn't really feel foreign at all - although I may have to revise that little assertion in a few days once the culture shock starts to hit home.

I lay on my bed in the hotel here in Mysore this afternoon reflecting on the fact that this for me is the start of a few months overseas - after the 3 months here I am spending 6 weeks with my mother and sister in Australia. That's all pretty exciting to contemplate. But so was the fairly ordinary prospect of lunch - a dhosa in the end. I'll be honest, it took me a while to bite the bullet and find somewhere to eat. Like most people I don't relish the idea of getting ill and my digestion has often been the first thing to complain after a change of location. Dhosa +3hrs now and nothing to report. Ya gotta eat.

The other thought that came up was - 'what am I really doing here?' After all, one can practice ashtanga next to a roaring fire in a bothy clinging to the side of a Hebridean isle, so why come here of all places? Maybe I'll cook up some answers to that one by the time I leave.

Uluru

2006-09-15T21:43:00.000+12:00

Well, I have now seen Uluru. The pilot got the ok for a banking turn over the rock itself from Aussie air control and so we were treated to a peak from 8500m.

The preamble went like this (imagine hesitant asian/american accent)

Uh...we have ok from air traffic so..uh..if you look out the right of the plane in about 10 minutes you wiw be able to see Ayer's Rock.

Time passes.

Uh..we are about to turn..uh (plane tilts to right as half of the passengers scramble to the starboard side scrabbling to see this thing)..so if you..uh...stretch your eyes..uh..you wiw be able to see it. It's the..uh..big bit of rock sticking up with some green around the base.

No shit.

Other highlights of the 8 hour flight - the excellent video on demand system. Lapped it up. One episode of Kath and Kim turned out a cracker. Kel, having a mid life crisis on the eve of his 50th, arrives to take Kath out for a spin, in 'the latest pop-top roadster Daihatsu' (it's bright yellow and dinky) having just had his hair braided and highlighted.

Now at Singapore Changi Airport - a marvel of airport/shopping mall design.

Funky, jazzy reggae

2006-09-14T15:12:00.000+12:00

Its the best. I love The Black Seeds - a really great NZ band. I know I'm repeating myself but I enjoyed their gig the other day in Napier so much.

Rolling, flowing lyrical reggae.

They have just released a new album - Into the Dojo. Their previous release, On the Sun, is a mini classic in my view.

Did a last early morning effort at Ashtanga Yoga Space this morning. 630am. I have to say that morning practice has rarely felt this good. Sometimes injuries help to slow things down a bit and allow more focus on a mindful approach to the asana. Perhaps the slightly higher temps here help a little, plus the bus ride is a chance to wake up, drink some water and let the hamstrings loosen a bit.

Showered at the shala, walked out the door to a perfect morning. Sydney is definitely a place one would be happy to return to time and again. Not sure about actually living here though.

Get the flight to Bangalore tomorrow around midday. Have decided to stay at the Hotel Empire for the one night there before heading to Mysore and starting to get things sorted there on Saturday. Apparently Sharath now has his own rooms, separate to the AYRI although not far away. The handover would seem to be progressing.

sydney side

2006-09-13T11:44:00.000+12:00

so back to 23C and sunny - ahhh. that's why I love to stop over here.

nice practice first thing (getting in the swing for Indyah...) and then toast before some shopping for med kit and other necessaries for Mysore.

tactical clothes wash - the aim is to minimise the dirty stuff actually in baggage at time of check in.

shorts, a new t shirt and flip flops and time to go out.

cold sydney blast

2006-09-12T20:26:00.000+12:00

You can normally depend on Sydney weather right? Not this time. Cold, rainy, grey.

Got an early morning practice in after waking at 530am. Went to ashtanga yoga space on Oxford street which was fairly busy. The teacher Fiona, whom I had actually come across before on a previous visit to Sydney, was very nice and positive. The class was pretty active and the room is a good one with hard wooden floors and a pleasant feel, enhanced by the warmth and some good incense to eradicate any sweaty smells! This is Sydney after all - where the superficial is everything!

After that met T for her lunch break then traipsed around the CBD to pick up my ticket from Singapore Airlines. They have the most stultifying offices - like something out of 2001 A Space Odyssey but without any of the glamour and much worse customer service. People dully staring into their screens behind a lacquered counter, seemingly riffling the keyboard randomly while several people, including me, sat with their queuing tickets waiting for no apparent good reason.

After that felt knackered and had to go back to the flat for a nap before going out this evening to see the Sydney relatives - who are very kindly picking me up from Bondi Rd.

departing for Indyah

2006-09-08T12:16:00.000+12:00

Went out for a quick coffee with mates working at Alpha Domus winery here in Hawkes Bay. Having pretty much emptied my stuff out of the apartment I was feeling decidedly disconnected and like I was kind of floating around, filling in the last few days. Not doing any yoga because of ailments that hopefully will clear up pretty fast.

Tasted the 2006 Viognier that my mate Stu has made and just bottled - for those interested in such things it is a decided break with normal and previous Hawkes Bay styles of this wine - it is high on acid and sugar, much more citrus-like than stone fruit and altogether pretty good.

All I feel like doing these days is tasting wine. Drinking it just doesn't appeal. 2 years' work in the industry pretty much put paid to my wine 'infatuation', which had been simmering since I was finishing school really. Not important anymore.

Much like speaking French - you'd have to make it seriously worth my while now to spend anything other than a brief period of time in France. I did my degree in French and Business.

Also much like eating meat - which makes a much rarer appearance on the plate now than previously.

And watching TV (although films are still definitely OK!).

And making any plans for the future.

These things just falling away....feels pretty good.

Films - juicy docos

2006-09-06T22:10:00.000+12:00

As the Napier Film Festival draws to a close I still have three films to see. In the last 2 days I have seen:

China Blue - this continues what is turning out to be a very good year for hard hitting, cutting edge documentaries. The makers have succesfully got up close to the lives of factory workers in Southern China making jeans for major retailers and buyers all over the Western world. They are often just 16 or not even, they frequently work 16-18 hour days and are so thoroughly and badly exploited it actually is hard to believe unless you hear it from their own mouths.

Painstakingly shot amid what must have been the most demanding conditions we are left with a bleak portrait of economic and social conditions for the masses in China today. 'Highlights' include a visit of the Canada/China commerce chamber from Toronto where one delegate comments, upon noticing the workers streaming up steps to their dorms during lunch breaks 'oh, how nice they can go back to their rooms to eat' (there are no staff dining facilities and the cost of the meals is deducted from pay); the comment by a French customer, buying for French government procurement, that 'one can get a good idea of how well the factories are run by how educated and honest the boss appears to be over dinner'; the continual postponement of payday until the wages are 11 weeks overdue and the workers are forced to mount a widlcat strike one lunchtime (strikes are illegal) whereupon some of the (14 year old) staff manage to corner and harangue the owner, who gives no quarter but does relent and post the wages sheets. They earn around 5c-15c (US) per hour depending on piece rates.

It's all very well bemoaning Chinese capitalism in action of course, but who is buying these jeans? Which of your clothes (and mine) has 'Made in China' on the inside label?

Next up was The Road to Guantanamo directed by Michael Winterbottom. Based on testimony of the Tipton 3, three British lads who went to Pakistan for one of them to get married, who then went on to Afghanistan and got caught up in the US invasion and overthrow of the Taliban. Detained and shipped off to Guantanamo Bay they spent about 3 years there. The film is a savage critique of US military power and abuse and a potent illustration of just how out of control some of their operations are, in scale, conception, aim and execution. With Kafkaesque brutality the men are pushed back and forward through the interrogation/torture system, completely trapped in a system that lacks the will or capacity to see that an error has been made. The dramatisation is intercut with interviews with the real people. They can hardly believe it has happened to them and indeed the story recounted is so harsh and painful that Winterbottom has had to use all his guile so that we, too, may accept that such mindless and xenophobic cruelty is possible.

We are not asked to blindly identify identify with the men - for example it seems crazy even to have gone into Afghanistan, let alone stay once they could see the country was being bombed - rather just to accept their actions on the grounds that however ill conceived, what happened to them subsequently was grotesquely unlucky and desperately sad. The next time you hear anyone described as Al-Qeada, Taliban, Hamas, Hizbullah and so on remember that it is rarely that simple. Jeez - I have a friend whose brother works for US military intelligence in Iraq. Sure would love her to see this one.

A lesson in yoga

2006-09-05T21:33:00.000+12:00

It's been some time since I really had a practice during and after which lots of 'emotional' stuff arose. A lot of it was triggered by the fact that my Coccyx is more bruised than I thought and is proving to be quite limiting. Even taking rest in at the end is uncomfortable as a lot of pressure is brought to bear by the body's weight at the base of the spine. A few minutes and it just aches too much to remain still.

A lot of frustration seemed to well up and so afterwards I had a read through Matthew Sweeney's comments on the Chakras. The 2nd Chakra - Svadisthana - is located at the Sacral Plexus (Coccyx) and is where interaction of Emotion and Body takes place.

Reading further onto other sections I came once more to the following passage,

"True change is made possible when you are in contact with what is, when you realise what you are. It does not occur when you try to become something you are not. This is delusion. With the latter there can only be a constant war between the desire for what you should be and what you are. This is one of the more troubling truths that most yoga practitioners have to deal with. No amount of asana or pranayama or meditation practice will make you a better person or hasten your development. Nothing will. For there is nothing better than being what you are right now." p28 Astanga Yoga As It Is.

What really interested me today was how deeply rooted the layers of non-acceptance can be and how very intrinsically linked they are to the physical, within the body, and how from this set of circumstances can arise emotions and feelings echoing aspects of the sub- or unconscious life. And the best thing is that yoga can allow awareness of this - with a little help from a teacher sometimes.

2006-09-04T09:36:00.000+12:00

I am a definite fan of ClustrMaps - I have my own which you might notice down the side panel of my blog. This has amazed me by showing that even an unremarkable blog like mine, swimming in the ether along with the estimated 50 million other blogs globally, is somehow being seen by people literally all over the world - Ireland, Chile, Canada, Western Australia! Cool.

As I am now only a week away from leaving for India things have begun to feel just slightly unreal, this is compounded by the fact that my practice has dwindled to nearly nothing due to snowboarding injuries. I am now very glad that I have chosen to go to Mysore for 3 months as this will give me ample time to settle and get some continuity going again.

I am also looking forward hugely to spending time with good friends in Sydney on the way over and also to spending some quality time with my mother who has decided to visit me in Mysore for a month - it's a lot easier for her to go there than come all the way over here to NZ.

Good old Hawkes Bay is definitely sending me off in style too - the weather is now glorious springtime, huge amounts of sunshine and warm too.

Had a little send-off on Saturday night in Havelock where I have been living since December. it ended up being a good mix of friends from my winemaking days and those whom I know through ashtanga here in Hawkes Bay. It was a fun get together. It has taken a while but (aside from the obvious absence of any kind of career presently) I am really feeling more and more settled here. Ironic I know since I am just about to go travelling for nearly 5 months but what the heck - it'll be good to come back too!

fun times

2006-09-01T11:18:00.000+12:00

Had a couple of pretty low energy practices the last two days - I think the bruising to my coccyx is the main reason. Jump backs and throughs are impossible and the wrenched thumb also makes some of the Parsva Konasanas uncomfortable, Navasana is also out Even Shavasana is uncomfortable. All pretty good going considering I will be in India in 2 weeks.

The best thing? I'm still really enjoying the practices and so for the second time in a couple of months I have the luxury of being injured without being annoyed about it....haha!

Anyway, my packed social life continues this week - last night went round to J & M in their new house - they seemed a little shellshocked I think - partly because the house is so nice and both kids have their own rooms and there is a pool in the garden - but also because they felt like they had become 'yuppies', in a lighthearted way. It was a fun evening. They always come out with hilarious anecdotes about J's freaky family in the US which have me in fits. Why are American families often so amusing to outsiders? Its not the first time I have felt that hearing about, or getting to know, an American family is a little like watching a car crash, major surgery or something equally compelling, morbid and fascinating. Why are they like this? There is a different quality to American life when compared to analagous tales from the UK or the Antipodes. Something about oddly outlandish, extreme features of peoples' lives cloaked in often stultifying banality makes these glimpses irresistible. The Vet sister in law on the West Coast, overweight with a tatoo of Anekin Skywalker on her shoulder, who does nothing other than work and flick through the 1000 available TV channels in her free time. The DC based Aunt whose work consists solely of dog walking. See what I mean?

Tonight is more film action followed by supper at the best Thai restaurant Hawkes Bay has to offer (it is actually very good, and you can't say that often round here). Tomorrow is leaving drinks at a local bar.

I have already moved a lot of my stuff out, arranged to get phone etc cut off, redirected mail and so on. Easy!

urban myths, apochryphal tales and plain simple truth

2006-08-31T09:57:00.000+12:00

Ever heard the one about the inventor who reinvented the lightbulb, sold the idea to a big maufacturer imagining that human life would be forever better only to see it filed away into oblivion? Ever doubted that large corporations really do have totally evil, unethical and hidden strategies?

Who killed the electric car? shows just how this little trick works in practice. It is a very depressing look at how corporate self interest and political corruption put paid to a perfectly viable, no emission, alternative to the cars we still drive today. GM and the California Air Resource Bureau (CARB) have a lot to answer for.

The film uses a low key slow burner approach to audience engagement and has scored some good interviews in particular with people who were intimately involved with the development of the EV programme at GM. They describe their first hand experience of how the company at once seemed to commit to the project while at the same time working to ensure that it would eventually be mothballed and the cars completely removed from circulation. People who come out looking particularly bad include the then president of CARB, whose conflict of interests is laid bare towards the end, and the oil industry lobbyist who lies directly to camera in a flurry of blinking about the supposed non-viability of electric cars as they were - not to mention the Bush administration.

This film is depressing and enraging at the same time. The interviews are skillfully edited amd interwoven. Californian consumers' frustration is made explicit - they wanted to buy the cars but the company that made them did not want to sell them and sabotaged the very sales and marketing campaigns they themselves had instituted.

The NZ film festival docos have been full of venom and rage this year - aimed at big business, corrupt governement and obstructive media. This is a fine example of the truth skillfully laid bare for all to see once more.

more boarding and lots of bruises

2006-08-30T12:04:00.000+12:00

I think that perhaps it might be wise in life to learn all vaguely hazardous sports before about the age of 10 or 12. Snowboarding only started to become mainstream in the very late 80s by which time I was an adult so sadly the option was not there for me.

I had a two hour lesson which was money very well spent as the instructor actually told me what to aim for as opposed to well meaning friends whose advice extended to 'just keep trying' and 'you need to practice more'....hmmm. There is an actual technique - and, do you know, when you apply it you suddenly find turns and the like pretty easy at lower speeds....so much fun. The falls are bruising though and I currently have a very sore coccyx which makes getting up from sitting pretty painful. Luckily it is improving and so no lasting damage. Also have hurt thumb which makes practice a little tricky. I think that's enough snow action for me this year. Riding a little close to the wind.

making finalish preps for departure to India.

An inconvenient truth

2006-08-27T15:07:00.000+12:00

So goes the title of the lecture/political manifesto by Al Gore about the environment which I saw last night. He does a good job of unequivocally, rudely and effectively spelling out just how critical the climate change situation is. The cinema was packed out and you could feel the guilt radiating back into the atmosphere from the audience as Gore delivered hammer blow after hammer blow.

Greenland is melting. The Atlantic conveyor is stopping. Atmospheric CO2 is so far above averages from the last 650,000 years that there is no doubt what is to blame. We are.

We are all being affected now by climate change, as it happens. 100s of millions will soon be affected by catastrophic rises in the sea level. Hurricane Catrina is merely a taster of what this might mean, from San Fran to Shanghai, Holland to Calcutta.

It's enough to make you want to go out and buy a Toyota Prius. Indeed this is something I am looking into.

The problem with Gore's preaching is that his solutions are opaque and halfhearted, mealy mouthed and half assed. He is saying his piece, yes. But his suggestions for reducing our CO2 emissions and attempting to avert the crisis are just as much hostage to big business and vested interests as are many of the 'scientists' and commentators who still refute the climate change evidence. As the titles roll we are told how we can make a difference - reduce, recycle, decrease, redesign, rethink.

Nowhere is there mention of the concept of lowering consumption and a way to achieve this paradigm shift that is really at the centre of the dilemma. To say so would be political suicide.

And the irony of all this, if we accept the thesis that materialism is simply the manifestation of subconscious fear - a fear of some threat to our very essence as humans and individuals, which results in a fight or flight response bizarrely transmuting into this phenomenon of consumerist capitalism -, is that we have in fact created by our actions the very greatest threat to our own survival of which it is possible to conceive.

If this is not as clear a demonstration of bounded rationality as is possible then I cannot imagine how to put it more succinctly.

And Gore is suggesting that we leave our fate in the hands of consumers

Napier Film Festival

2006-08-26T15:39:00.000+12:00

Saw a beautifully made film from India yesterday evening at the Napier Film Festival, by writer/producer Deepa Mehta. Water is beautifully filmed with a lovely young protagonist who lends immense charm and sensitivity to the whole story. In some ways it reminded me of Midnight Express - the dour, crushing weight of religious and cultural institutions bearing down on individuals in both films nags at your very soul. A young and innocent main character caught up and tossed around by forces so immense and overpowering that escape seems impossible as well as the faithfully rendered influence of interpersonal relationships as they develop over time and peoples' lives intersect, each touching the other briefly whilst at the same time firmly locked into their own individual fates, all this makes Water compelling and the moments of true darkness bearable. In the end, with the coming of Ghandi and the end of British rule comes emancipation for little Churyia and we are so happy to see her clasped into the arms of the peaceful revolution.

Had a blast on Limewire/iTunes (you know how it works.....) the other day and unearthed this beauty of an album - Boogie Angst - by Kraak & Smaak which is super funky dance stuff now being overplayed on my iPod.

On the subject of yoga I am pleased to report that Padmasana has just become possible again after an absence of several weeks due to previously mentioned knee injury - cool.

new look

2006-08-26T15:29:00.000+12:00

I quickly tired of the old template and blogger have made it super easy to tamper with ur templates - so, here is the new look.

snow and lakes

2006-08-21T19:48:00.000+12:00

Just had a fabulous weekend skiing/snowboarding on Mt Ruapehu, clubbing in Ohakune and lazing by Lake Taupo. I kept seeing great snow reports all week and so decided that with Friday still looking good I would sneak in a weekday on the slopes. Headed up there on Thursday evening and struggled to find somewhere to stay on arrival since the good weather and mid season rush meant Ohakune was fit to burst. Still, got a good old dorm bed at Ohakune YHA and sweated the night away in the superheated room - luckily no snorers, which was a small mercy. After a very sluggish start, mainly due to dehydration I think, I got up the car park. A small dilemma was presented since I had imagined getting in a second day's snowboarding, but with conditions so good the attractions of a whole day on the learner slopes were somewhat outshone by the seductive upper reaches of the snow clad mountain - which won out after a brief tussle with my conscience. As it happened Saturday turned out to be the day for snowboarding as by then I was at Whakapapa on the other side of the mountain. Thus Friday ended up as an almost faultless day of skiing. Blue skies, plenty of space on the slopes, beautiful snow and loads of really friendly people - having compared the two stations now I can say that Turoa definitely has a better vibe - much more fun to be had! Maybe it's because of the fact that there are fewer Aucklanders and more Wellingtonians.

After that I headed over to Pukawa Ba y on the southern shores of the Lake to meet up at a friend's batch where a few of us stayed. Lake views from the kitchen/dining room and lots of Tuis with their lovely morning song in the surrounding trees. Very Kiwi.

Saturday was snowboarding at Whakapapa, very busy and not such an appealing ski field. Having said that, by about midday I did start to feel like I was getting the hang of boarding which was pretty satisfying - still a little awkward turning onto the back edge but even this would probably get ironed out after a 3rd day so looks like I have nearly, unexpectedly, learned to snowboard this winter! Everyone else had a good day too. In the evening we had a roast at the bach then I headed over to Ohakune again, with S who was the only other person who wanted to go clubbing, to check out the dance party for which I had seen a flyer the other week. We had a lot of fun but the music wasn't really up to scratch. Made me realise how much I want to go and get into that stuff again. Will it win out in India I wonder at some point?....perhaps!

Sunday was another good day - a little bit stiff from a couple of jarring bales on Saturday but nothing serious. Having got to bed at 3am I slept in until 1030 then munched some toast, had a bit of yarn with everyone and then went to the hot pools at Tokaanu where we lounged for 20 mins in the very hot water - it was actually my first visit to thermal pools in NZ and I've been here nearly 4 years. We had a private pool to ourselves. You could easily seat 8 people in one of them. In fact it reminded me of the big communal baths you have after playing rugby - but in a good way. Feeling somewhat soothed and refreshed we headed back to the bach and had a spot of lunch then chatted and read by the fire. I started to feel like I was really enjoying a proper life in NZ perhaps for the first time ever. Don't know why that came up, but it did.

One thing I forgot to mention was that on Wednesday evening I went to a gig by the Black Seeds that turned out to be a really great night of funky reggae. They are superb live - just great to dance to and a really good crowd to. They are touring Europe in September.

Stiff shoulders today made me think that practice might hurt but it was fine, an much appreciated as for some reason had actually felt pretty flat all day. Amazing what ashtanga and Thai food can do for one's state of mind!

anon

2006-08-13T15:45:00.000+12:00

There are lots of anonymous blogs out there - I love the idea, and perhaps it's the epitome of individual freedom of expression, unconstrained (except by the fact that we don't know who it is), totally frank and often compulsive reading whilst also being unfettered by the pollution of direct commercial and political influence. Imagine if everyone was doing one, honestly and openly - imagine the stuff we would get to read! But the private is only one part of life eh?

The last two practices have felt just fab - and my knee is returning to normal slowly, bit by bit.

Saw a 15 year old lad at practice with his Mum the other day. Such a young person has quite simply not had the chance to pollute and neglect his body to the same extent as those of us further along in life. He has only been practising for a month or so (in India) and looked like he could probably do the whole primary series now, without too much problem.

Blogosphere

2006-08-12T14:36:00.000+12:00

In blogland we can meet people as they would never appear to us in any other context. Wow. That must be what people said about books when they first appeared.

Had an interesting chat with Mum this morning about blogs, Mysore, ego and ashtangis. There is a lot of crossover of course! I had showed her a few of the Mysore blogs out there and we have talked about the types of people likely to be inhabiting the world of ashtanga study in Mysore. Yoga, food, self, quest, india obsessed type A people. All this is of course relatively uncontroversial stuff and each is open to judge (or not, or accept) such assertions. I was not surprised that she has decided not to read them too closely. It can be a voyeuristic pleasure but the blogosphere is a funny and unique place fit to burst with neuroses, exhibitionism, insight, surprise, honesty, frankness and duplicity all woven together. It's easy to read this stuff like some kind of priviliged guide book to the soul - which it may in fact be if it were consumable in one go. But what about actually experiencing something firsthand for oneself?

The latest web/blog 'outing' has hit the headlines in the media. Girl with a one track mind has been hunted down with a vengeance by scummy UK journos and her identity has been revealed to all. It's a shame as it will obviously end the blog as it has been.

She is a person who has chosen to write with total frankness about her lively sex life for over 2 years. It is entertaining, compulsive and fun. It is also kind of daunting and a bit scary. Most of all I wonder - although she seems to love her sexuality and what it brings to her life - how it might be hard to be so constantly at the beck and call of one's hormones. She is turned on pretty much all the time, by just about anything. Though there are many passages of reflection about 'will she ever find a suitable relationship/have kids etc' there is never any about how she came to be as she is - why is everything sexualised for her, about desire and constantly seeking satisfaction. To know some of that would be fascinating, as has her blog thus far been. It won't happen now thanks to the sad Sunday Times journos.

Film obsession

2006-08-12T13:27:00.000+12:00

One thing I have not mentioned so far is that I am (increasingly) obsessed by and engrossed in the world of films - in particular, in the last few years I have begun to watch a huge amount of films after it occured to me one day that, quite simply, I could. In the vein then I recently went to Wellington for a couple of days to catch some of the offerings at the NZ film festival. I think I will offer my thoughts on all films I see right here from now on. You will see that I am not joking when I say I watch a lot of them.

First up was Thankyou for Smoking. Aaron Eckhart plays the slimiest most neo-con postmodern morally corrupt relativistic slimeball lobbyist. Rob Lowe plays a character almost as hateful as the one he plays in Wayne's World. I think he has worked out that people prefer to hate him rather than love him. Really it's nothing more than a dressed up anecdote as a whole but it works beacuse of what 'off Hollywood' is so good at - very snappy dialogue and slick production seamlessly combined. Ironic (as far as American stuff can be), amusing and current.

Next was 49 Up. A long running (42 years and counting) documentary serial, the first ever, and still most authentic, attempy at reality TV that has never failed to engross. If, like me, you love documentaries with substance (as opposed to most of the shite on History Channel, Animal Planet or Discovery) that are made with sophisticated production values and attempt to tackle subjects, such as what it means to be human, that require some thought and reflection, then this is not to be missed.

For me the real interest comes not mainly from the ample fodder for consumption of the minuteae of the subjects' lives but rather from the fleeting glimpses of their attempts to subvert and challenge the whole exercise. An oxbridge educated lawyer and his wife sit guardedly in front of the cameras and profess, in response to probing, that they are 'guarded about being guarded'. Reality TV fatigue takes on a whole new dimension when you have been visited by this type of inquisition every 7 years. The same couple ask 'what is the point...or value.. of such a programme?'. Originally the makers seem to have envisaged a sort of social experiment in televised reality, when the idea was new, taking the ideas behind mass observation a few steps further. There is huge value and much to learn for all concerned both watching and participating and each person may draw this out for themselves. One of the most striking challenges to the whole concept comes from a subject who expresses anger at the makers, making explicit the previously unstated fact that there are and have been disagreements between subjects and crew over the decades about how each person is presented and how their lives are examined and assessed. She tells the interviewer that 'you don't give me enough credit - you don't think I am clever as I am...and you always focus on what has happened rather than on what I want in life, where I want to go'. It is a point forcefully made and what she is getting at must resonate deeply with a reflective audience - the inherent bias in the production process and how ineffectual the concept of objectivity really is; the subjects as we see them are filtered through many layers of language, culturally determined perception and preconception, as well as the hidden individual values of those making the programmes. This subject, a woman without any higher academic education and with obvious strength and immense dignity, objects to the profound insults inherent in the production values, agendas and personalities to be found in the film crew.

What is the point of such a film? True social comment at its most poignant, powerful and irrefutable.

Factotum showcases what is possibly a career best performance from Matt Dillon (maybe Drugstore Cowboy is up there too). The trials and tribulations inherent in a life dedicated to alcoholism of the bar fly variety are explored in this film with many echoes of American Splendor. Henry Chinaski, the alter ego of beat poet Charles Bukowski, is bumbling through life led primarily along the path of least resistance to the next cold beer and whisky combo. If anyone embodies the concept of being happyily depressed it's this guy. If you read Ham on Rye you begin to understand how he got there in the first place. Even without that though the pleasure in the film comes from the brilliantly conveyed sense of what it means to be a true drifter in urban life's wilderness. Chinaski is totally surrendered to his addiction and never fights it. You begin to wonder whether, when done like this, the choice to remain an alcoholic is perhaps more noble than the other option of attempting to recover - and thus through this mechanism a deep level of compassion becomes available for exploration within the viewer.

Last of all was Into Great Silence. Carthusian monks in the most ascetic monastery in Europe are the suject of this nearly silent 3 hour meditation on what it might be like to live a lifetime in such a way. It is beautiful and profound to look at. The silence is at once delicate and robust, impossible to ignore for the first 2 hours. After this I became almost entranced as we watched one of the Brothers pray and meditate. He kneels for a few minutes over the bible as motes dance in the light streaming through the ancient, narrow glass, the wooden panels of his quarters in soft focus behind him. Then he stands and crosses himself. Then he kneels for a time once more....then stands...then, what? He kneels again. Each minute, incremental development on screen has become precious and fascinating. Things we are aware of only subliminally day to day become the very substance of being.

Perhaps the only concession to modernity in the monastery is that the prior apprently has email - it is preferable to the phone as it is silent. Nothing else has changed for perhaps a 1000 years. Remote, spiritual and unique and a perfect rebuttal of soundbite life.

Keeping amused

2006-08-10T13:29:00.000+12:00

The great thing this year so far has been the mild winter and toasty apartment. This has gone a long way to making the winter tolerable here in Hawkes Bay. Also, its been a really good snow season so far and this has meant a couple of trips up to the local ski fields for North Island at Mt Ruapehu. There are two fields, Turoa and Whakapapa. So far have tried only Turoa and the last time I went up was to try snowboarding for the first time. Bruising. But anyone who has done it knows that. Easier to pick up than skiing but a lot harder on the bum and lower spine! Also not so good for hard packed pistes, since you only have one edge to rely on! Still, its worth pursuing simply to have more winter sport options when conditions allow. Can't wait to try boarding on soft off piste snow. Must be the best. Also, got called 'dude' by a 14 year old girl which made feel old and young at the same time.

Also recently went down to Wellington to catch as much of the international film festival there as is humanly possible - which I think I acheived by viewing 10 full length films in 2.5 days. The festival now comes to Napier and I have only seen 3 of the films that will be shown so it's gonna be a slob fest all over again. Bring it on. Cultural diversity can be a little lacking at these latitudes sometimes.

Mysore report

2006-08-10T13:05:00.000+12:00

A couple of people from our practice group got back from a month in Mysore and, second hand, have reported a lot of disappointment with the experience. Lots of people talking about nothing but Ashtanga, little attention from the teachers at AYRI and even - apparently - an inkling that that PKJ is getting greedy with regards to money from fees etc. Ever heard that before? If one reads the current crop of Mysore blogs on ashtangi.net for example there is never any serious griping about the experience. Far from it in fact. Observations of all sorts but very little opinion. Many of the bloggers of course are based in the US and there is a distinctly American flavour to the Mysore/Ashtanga blog community although this may moderate over time. No-one though is slagging off the AYRI experience.

I guess it has a lot to do with a combination of previous teacher/pupil experiences and expectations about the trip as well as personality. Certainly there are rumours of some pretty 'brutal' treatment being meted out by teachers at AYRI - for example the fabled 'head drop' in back bends. Gotta see it to believe it but on the other hand I have now heard it from an eye witness so who knows....as well as the ubiquitous claims that they try to 'break' your ego as a preliminary stage of instruction. All sounds pretty macho and inimical to the yoga mindset commonly assumed to prevail doesn't it?

I was interested to hear the refelctions of those who have recently returned, particularly since my own visit there is only a month away now. One thing that may be helping me to remain firmly detached is the fact that since I hurt my knee recently my asana practice has essentially gone into stasis - at least as far as any progression through the series is concerned. Thus I have no great expectations for the moment of myself with regard to 'being given' new asana or 'getting further' through primary series. Which means that, for the moment, I believe I will feel content to just go there and practice as instructed, hopefully not get too ill too often and enjoy the chance to meet lots of different folk, find a good place to live in for the duration and spend fun time with my mum when she comes to stay for a month from Oct 10th!

Killing of innocents and survival of the war weary

2006-08-08T13:27:00.000+12:00

First let me say that we all abhor the killing of innocent people in military conflict. There is never a justification, never anything one can say to right the injustice of it. And this is indeed part of what Israel is doing, and has done systematically, ever since it was founded.

In Gaza and the so called West Bank where a democratically elected Palestinian government now sits impotently, the Israeli government has ruthlessly elected to repress, harass and assassinate members of the Hamas administration.

In Lebanon, where the organisation whose name means Army of God, Hizbullah, is entrenched in rural and urban areas alike, garnering local support from often poor and disempowered populations, the fury of Israeli military aggression has been unleashed with considerable force into areas, densely populated, where the Army of God has chosen to site its military infrastructure.

In both these cases they are killing Lebanese and Palestinian civilians in far greater numbers, it would seem, than are Israeli civilians being killed by any of the suicide bus bombers, cross border rocket attacks or other means of attack deployed within the borders of Israel by her enemies.

The kidnappings of Israeli soldiers by Arab guerilla organisations in protest at Israeli holding of combatant Arab prisoners, which was the original flashpoint for this whole recent eruption, has of course been forgotten by both sides and the media. Indeed those incidents can be seen now for what many feel they really were - tactical manoeuvering to precipitate conflict, by one side or the other.

This leaves us then contemplating the current manifestation of a conflict that has raged since before the very inception of the state of Israel. Much of the Arab world does not want Israel to exist. The administrations of Syria, Iran and others would happily see the whole place bulldozed into the Med. To them and their scions Israel is nothing more than the incarnation of American/Zionist foreign policy. Indeed Israel is a tool of American foreign policy, as long as the interests of the two are aligned. For they are not one and the same even though it is difficult to conceive of a political environment where their interests might not intersect. That would require the diminution of radical, and even moderately militant, Islam. In the long wave scenario of east vs west, judaeo-christian vs islam, that day is a long way off.

Killing civilians, on purpose and as part of a political strategy informed by a strongly militaristic bent, is never right. However just because one side of an equation is not moral it does not mean that it cannot be read and understood. For what is Israel to do? As a country whose raison d'etre is almost in many ways, and for the time being, simply to survive, what is it to do when threatened? In this case the aim to is to destroy Hizbullah in Lebanon so that they can no longer fire missiles and rockets into Israeli cities and settlements. This is a very hard task as the Israeli army is finding. Army of God units are merged into rural and urban Lebanon. This means that to engage in combat and kill these fighters the Israelis must attack some heavily populated areas. In addition, it would seem that a part of Israeli military doctrine is indeed informed by the belief that terrorising civilian populations is a way to weakend support for the organisations operating in the midst of those populations. Counter intuitive? It would seem to be. It is what partly informed French and American strategy in Algeria and Vietnam and still to this day drives many of the decisions made in the Whitehouse about Iraq. Even the British operations in Helmand province in Afghanistan show elements of this thinking. Of course this element of strategy has the opposite effect from the one intended. It is a mistake that history has seen repeated many times. Hearts and Minds crossed with Scorched Earth.

Israel cannot hope to have broad support from the publics of so called liberal democracies. But neither can it afford to pay heed to those voices. As always, put in the simplest way, this is about survival and survival for Israel may be the most moral choice of all.

This article and this one, both in The Guardian Newspaper, give a partial overview of recent events.

2006-07-17T11:08:00.000+12:00

This is the bendiest person ever.

http://www.devilducky.com/media/39096/

This looks like it comes from some eastern european place, or maybe that's misleading but anyway - how hypnotic is that shit! She is obviously pretty young still - early to mid teens I suppose - so she must have basically been born like that and kept it up from a young age. The mind boggles. I wonder if she has any aches and pains.

pet yoga cat

2006-07-16T16:21:00.000+12:00

Earlier I was thinking of the first place I tried yoga - a so called 'power yoga' studio in Christchurch, NZ. This is a little misleading beacause those guys still rank for as some of the best teachers of ashtanga I have had and they had a great class, always busy, really informative and inspiring. After a few weeks of being there I noticed a little cat wondering around the room as we all practised - about 40 people were there. It was hilarious, a really cute ginger kitten, which bounded around and while everyone took rest you might feel a light tickle as it's whiskers brushed the souls of your feet. And the name of this kitten? Gerald the Yoga Cat.

warm winter

2006-07-13T12:35:00.000+12:00

I went for the third acup treatment today and things are going nicely so will leave it until after the weekend for another follow up. Now getting heat to the site too which feels pretty good.

Today is a day when I normally go to practice with other people and a teacher. I feel like a change of teacher though and will perhaps go to a class run by LT, whose sessions I attended when I first arrived here at the start of 2005. She has a great practice and is a lovely woman with a very attractive approach to teaching.

Having very little to do these days, other than self imposed tasks, leaves a huge amount of time to do very little. Today I got divorced officially, it has been two years and a month since we separated and we sorted out the paperwork so the order came through today. Feels good to have totally moved on and through that whole experience. Talk about adjusting one's expectations of life and bringing awareness to where those expectations came from - the whole relationship, marriage and breakup has encompassed a huge transformation of me as a person and my view of the world and what I'm doing here. From what I want to eat and drink, to where I want to live and who with, to how I treat my body and my mind day to day things have moved on apace from London, banking July 1999 which is when we first met. Best of all, what I like about what I'm doing now and for the next few months is that I am leaving expectations and judgement to one side as much as possible. They can lead to a lot of problems. Equally, counting one's blessings, which for me include being single, healthy and happy with no responsibilities and just a little cash in the bank, are a good way to appreciate whatever may be happening around me. There is no doubt that Ashtanga has been a big factor in allowing this to occur by creating a pathway for acceptance of life as it is, and myself as I am.

This is what happens sometimes when you give yourself nothing to do. What then of my projects mentioned earlier - things like the business plan and vlogging? I still love the business plan and it is in reasonable shape. I don't have a huge motivation to engage with it at the moment. If it still looks good when I get back from Indyah then I will examine doing it wholeheartedly. There is lots of stuff there for me about taking on responsibility, coping with high levels of demand on my time and energy and also being committed to living and staying in one place for a period of time. I've put those ideas up for examination and they are around. Vlogging - it's pretty expensive to buy a camera, although it would be fun but I have to say that, having looked at a few recently, I think that blogs are just fine and can be resonant and absorbing without moving images as long as they are well written and display elements of reflection and observation. So, this will remain a blog.

This winter is turning out to be the easiest since I came to NZ. Houses here are jolly badly constructed, often with no insulation, double glazing or heating and it gets very cold and damp for several months of the year. However, the place I am living in now is insulated and easy to heat so for the first time ever I am warm and cosy for winter - which makes a huge difference to one's state of mind. Previous winters have been a shock to the system and a constant battle to stay warm. Like having to go to bed with fleece bottoms, tops and hats on then waking up in the morning and finding ice on the inside of the window - like living in a tent. No joke I can assure you.

2006-07-11T10:34:00.000+12:00

Knees. The left one is responding very well to the treatments meted out thus far. These are - acupuncture, twice in two days, lots of arnica, ice packs (until tomorrow when it wil be heat) and being careful. Yesterday had perhaps 20% articulation of the joint, today is back to 60-70%. This feels therefore like a strain, not a tear. Remaining cautious though as there is still slight swelling and some pain if I move it too much and without awareness of the joint. Hmmm. I have joined ashtangi.net and so this blog should be visibile there shortly.

divine moments

2006-07-10T08:00:00.000+12:00

The John Scott 'Ashtanga Yoga from the Heart' weekend has turned out for some to include glimpses of the divine - not for me though I have to say that not one teacher I have yet come across has managed to communicate so effectively, in practice, at the time of practice, the deep spiritual and emotional nature of the practice of ashtanga that sometimes makes itself felt. Over 5 two hour sessions we had a good mixture of physical practice and talk, mostly on the subject of grounding, rooting from the ground to the sky, allowing prana to flow and carry the practice. During these moments some students will feel powerful forces and emotions shifting within then. My friend JS said that as he was talking, John Scott passed her and touched her head. She thought he had put some substance on her crown because she suddenly breathed in the rich scent of a tropical bloom - perhaps a lotus flower. A glimpse of the divine. Like the penny dropping. There is something more.

At the end of the final session, as we were doing baddha padmasana, Lucy Scott came over and assisted me with the best way for me to get into the lotus position - the old hips and knees are pretty tight, but they are opening. As she was assisting, my left knee gave a pretty decent pop. That was the end of practice for me. She did a bit of craniosacral while I took rest and this morning it was stiff, sore and pretty immobile. It seemed to fit just right the way this has happened, right at the end of the workshop, just so the ever so lovely Lucy could give me some much needed yogic attention.

Anyway, enough of yogic yoga teacher crushes. This morning I went to get some acupuncture, much needed - some very sore sites mid way down the outside calf - and it appears I may have slightly torn the lateral collateral ligament. Need a week or so to see if it's torn or just badly strained but it has been niggling for many months. This is definitely going to slow things down. I took a whole week off a couple back because I could feel the knees were taking a bit too much strain, but it wasn't enough so now there is an injury. Ice for a couple of days to reduce potential swelling, then probably heat as well as some intensive acupuncture, this is the recipe. Was inspired by John Scott's recounting of his practices in the early days of being a father - sleep deprived, but getting up at 5am anyway to practice, getting to the mat and saying the opening chant then simply lying down and resting. That was his lot. Today I did 3 very careful Suryanamaskara A, then examined possible standing asana to find that none were going to work so sat and did one side of Janu sirsana A and that was it. Could be more of the same for a little while.

I am definitely getting better at tking this kind of event in my stride. For example, if I were working now then there is no way I could go in to anything other than the most undemanding things (at least in a job where physical mobility was important a it was in the world of winemaking). When I had my wisdom teeth out in January it took me 3 weeks to get my practice back to the same stage of physical fitness and suppleness as it had been at prior to the op. It freaked me out a little at the time, and I worried that I somehow might not make it to where I 'had been'. When I had the 'week off' lately I really felt it when coming back to practice. The aching arms by the end of Surya Ns was a telltale sign. This was nearly a thing of the past. But these things are false markers. Some people probably never get past the standing sequence, there's the whole of my life to work on what comes next. I'll get as far into the sequences as I get, there's nothing I can do about that. An injury is the best reminder of this. Definitely Kapha with a smidgen of vatta.

Right at the start of the world cup I got given the Italians in a sweepstake. Would have happily swapped them for several other teams. But they just won the world cup on penalties. $40 to me.

2006-07-04T18:43:00.000+12:00

I have managed to watch about half of the total matches played in the world cup - my best ever performance. Which is more than can be said about the England team. This partly accounts for the lack of posting.

Moments to savour - for me personally, the second Argentina goal against Serbia, which must be one of the top all time world cup goals, was a real lifetime sporting high. I was watching the match on my own at a friend's house and was going absolutely potty each time the Argies scored. They were a true joy to watch. Art. Exquisite. Ahhh, who ever would have thought I might get quite so enthusiastic about football. That's what the world cup is for.

It has also proved a handy foil to having lots of spare time. Although my business plan has been progressing, my motivation has been wavering. Not so much for the idea, which I really think is a good one, but more about the whole Hawkes Bay thing. It ain't for the long term I have realised. But how long is the short term? This remains to be seen. In the meantime, my citizenship application is simmering, and I have now jumped through the last hoop under my control by sending in all papers I could find which demonstrate that NZ is my 'permanent base'. Hopefully they will make a decision before I go to India.

On the yogs front, had a whole week off the other day. Just felt like the knees were taking a bashing and needed a rest. So, now back to it. Shoulders have tightened, hips still opening nicely. It's amazing how quickly the cardio fitness goes though. Ho hum. Comes back ok too. Still feels like the whole practice is getting neater, more coordinated. One funny thing is that a really competitive side of me keeps nudging into my thoughts during and between practices. That hasn't happened since very early on. Just another example of the phases we go through I suppose.

Its been two years now. Started yoga in June 2004. It is fair to say it has become a focus of life and that it has changed my life too. I don't imagine it will always be this way. As life develops, as my priorities change and motivations shift perhaps ashtanga will be more of a background aspect of life. One day. For now it's right there, front and centre.

2006-06-13T12:28:00.000+12:00

Getting up at 5am today to watch the second half of USA v Czech Republic was a tough one. Not that I went to bed very late, it was just hard. Still - if that's the cross I have to bear than so be it...incidentally it was good to see the yanks get a thrashing even if I maybe feel that way beacuse England got thrashed at rugby by the Aussies and also looked pathetic in the first match of the world cup....sour grapes.

It is loads of fun to be able to watch so many of the matches though, and I am making the most of it. My mate Nick sent me the above photo he took while out drinking in London over the weekend. Apparently the ball moves when you 'hit' it, although it is anchored by some string.

Today sees me back in the throes of business planning, warm and dry in my apartment while it chills down nicely outside. The business training and some recent discussions with contacts at a couple of wineries and also completion of initial research into software and market demand have brought some cohesion to proceedings and now I am tying it all together.

In terms of yoga chikitsa last night was a new first. I have been getting into Padmasana for a little while now but have been finding that the knees and hips were still tight meaning that my feet were liable to 'ping' out of the poisition after a period of time. However yesterday I noticed that things seemed a little more sustainable so I thought I'd try Utplithih - and it worked! I have to say it's a lot easier to hold it for 25 breaths than when one simply holds the legs up in simple cross leg. More than that though it just made the practice feel a lot more complete, tidy and satisfying. I was finding that last position a bit of a mountain at the end of each practice because it's exhausting as I was doing it. In full lotus position though, it really works. It's taken me nearly 2 years to get to this. Fuck it - I'm pleased!

But just as the ego was getting the better of me I found this and this - something to aim for? The most amazing thing to me is how the first dude gets himself into lotus position without even touching his own legs, while upside down.

original yogis

2006-06-07T15:50:00.000+12:00

This stuff on YouTube is the latest cyberripple to pervade the ashtanga community, albeit in a predictably laid back way. Interesting to see dudes who learnt the practice from teachers who were born in the early 19th century. The moves really flow - very ashtanga - and of course it's all out in the bush somewhere - very yogic.

I love the jump backs. They are so slow, balanced and graceful. Enjoy. These extracts are from widely available vids (yoga schools worldwide).

Queen's birthday

2006-06-05T13:17:00.000+12:00

Here's a wierd thing - the Kiwis have a national holiday for the official birthday of the Queen. Us Brits don't even bother.

So today is a national holiday.

This in fact means little to me. However it does give me extra license to spend time online checking out new trends and the latest ideas - the funkiest being the vlog - a personal www video diary - which look to me to be a very new feature of the web. Since about 2004 in any meaningful way. As we can see here there are basically about 600 in the US and the same again, maybe, in the rest of the world. That's new. So, in the early adopter spirit of things I think the world needs a Mysore Astanga Vlog and I'm looking at organising one. Looks pretty simple really - we need a camera and a laptop. Already 50% there. Then we have to transport equipment to India and decide on a format, or aim, of the vlog. Perhaps to introduce the world to Mysore ashtanga via video on the web, or maybe a more personal view a la video diaries. Having mulled over the idea yesterday with K and JS I we don't reckon Pattabhi Jois et al will take kindly to the concept of filming in the shala in Mysore. Nonetheless there's plenty more of interest to record. The daily experience of being there and the progression through the trip will present much to record and post.

Turns out KS's brother is a professional photographer and was full of ideas regarding equipment and how to set up for such a project.

Didn't practice yesterday, although I did start. Just didn't feel like it. The day was most certainly a wintry one and my drive was not to practice. I started and the forward bends just felt really uncomfortable. Try again later today.....

quality tv in a desert of drivel

2006-05-30T09:47:00.000+12:00

I heard about this bbc innovation a few weeks ago when it was first reported. All bbc programming available to watch online for a week after broadcast - now that will be a relief to those of us living in places like NZ where not only is programming often of very poor quality but also marred by so many adverts that enjoying a film or drama is often impossible. TV as we know it is going out the window.

Political shit from the US of A

2006-05-27T17:17:00.000+12:00

This lambasting of GWB is remarkable for mainstream American media nowadays. Clever. Also, Colbert is thankfully absolutely merciless with regards to the Washington press corp. They should have been doing this for the last 6 years.

humdrum

2006-05-26T15:27:00.000+12:00

This week has ended up being humdrum - had a major motivation crash Monday and Tuesday as a result of feeling pretty dodgy stomach wise. Now Friday and still feeling a little drawn by it. Ah well. The business plan has not progressed much on paper but I did attend the first of my Business Planning courses, fully government funded here in NZ, where we had the sevices of a very competent facilitator to show us a good map to a business plan. Structured, clear and stimulating. Also nice to meet a couple of different people and hear what they are up to - not really networking in the 'Rotary Club' sense but networking nonetheless. There's some good ideas out there. My idea is a good one. The scope needs to be a little bigger still than I thought, at least in pure cash terms. This is because of the cost of certain types of software which would be best to use - $600 to $900 per user. Given that I initially was planning on having up to 8 users for a bigger campaign this ups the ante significantly. I suppose I need a littel time to assimilate that risk into my thinking. Having said that it would be 80% of the startup costs so it's still quite cheap. The thing is though that such an expense would be pure sunk costs - no way to retrieve them at all. Working it.

Noticed further financial turbulence of course, dips and buying into them, more dips, swings in sentiment. Lots of comment in FT and others explaining the risks the markets suddenly woke up to. This is nothing new to what I have seen. There is definitely a buying opportunity coming up in the next few months. Short of a nuclear attack on Iran I don't see a long term issue here for equity investors. I am definitely a major amateur in these matters but the more I see these swings, corrections, slumps and (inevitable, at least so far) recoveries the more I have begun to see them as buying opportunities rather than 'the end of the world'. The trick is in the timing however, and also to buy with the full intention of holding for at least 5 years at least.

Yoga wise, I am swinging right back to the full 3 month India thing now. Looks like my parents will make it out which is awesome - it will be great to experience the thing there with them for some of the time. My practice has been fragmented this week, and a couple of muscle pulls - one mild one on the front of the chest bizarrely - have meant that much of my awareness is being brought to the concept of acceptance. Acceptance of where one is, acceptance of things as they are. Acknowledging all the time the dynamic nature of these same things. Acceptance implies not giving up but seeing without judgement. Therein lies the purity of the idea that is detachment. So often we attach judgement to any acceptance, judging ourselves or others in some way, but to accept with no judgement must be liberating for all concerned. It certainly can remove barriers to progression and development in something like an ashtanga practice. So if the week has been humdrum, certainly in comparison to last week then the harm only comes from the attachment to the idea of comparison between the two weeks. I am subtly different to how I was last week, so would it be right to compare my experiences from one week to the next?

India isn't going anywhere

2006-05-20T10:51:00.000+12:00

The last week has seen me starting to write a business plan. I realised that the 'one man band' model just won't cut it for my idea and so more structure means more planning. As a result I have become a bit of a desk jockey again in life. Have been waking very early and working on it all day. Got myself fixed up with some business training (all government funded amazingly) in marketing, planning and finance which starts over the next couple of weeks and I have also started to get together a reasonable spreadsheet for doing the financial side of things on.

Obviously I still have plans to go to India as well - and I intend to do so but I am also aware that if I get this plan together within the next month or so and it looks good then I may be itching to get on with it, or there may be work opportunities to take advantage of - which might be to good a chance to miss. If this happened then I would either cut India short or shelve it. India isn't going anywhere. If I have to cash in the ticket so be it. On the other hand, it'll still be an option if I want to do it.

One result of sitting down all week is that my left hip has really tightened up, or at least it feels tighter. I can still do Mari B and C but it feels harder. Having said that, the practice as a whole is definitely back on that upward, lighter, stronger trajectory of a couple of months back. In the interim I have had some pretty hard sessions - taking a lot of mental energy. Maybe the change is partly due to pratising 4.5 times a week (an easy Friday practice). This feels good and right. In Mysore I realised that if I want to go only 5 days a week then that'll be just fine. Pressure can only come from me, because the teachers certainly won't be exerting it. With a slightly greater frequency of practice comes another little change - I am beginning to make it into a respectable Padmasana at key points of the Primary series - Urdvha and ordinary Padmasana as well as a half decent Yoga Mudra. All of which is mightly good to feel and do

So, progress is evident in all areas!

As an aside, and based on my observation as well as age old adage I want to draw attention to the corner of the world concerned with finance and all things material. Never has the old saying 'Sell in May and go away' been more apt. Turmoil is looming in the markets, see London equities for example, and not for the first time this is happening mid year after a good run up in the (northern) autumn and spring in share markets. All I can says is that generally these dips, always panic driven and in this case partly inspired by emerging markets problems of a few weeks back and latterly by concerns over high commodity prices and rising interest rates slowing growth, have almost always in recent years (post dotcom boom/bust anyway) been good buying opportunities. Either to get into new stock or to get more of an existing investment in and thereby improve the average price of a holding. There's no doubt that there's a lot to be worried about. Geopolitical risks are definitely on the up - not just with Iran, which is a typical slow burner and could easily take another couple of years before we have the real 'fallout' if you'll pardon the pun, but also over energy in Europe with Russia getting bolshie. And risk indicators like Gold have been showing the effect of this type of thing for a while now. The jump through $600/oz in the last couple of weeks certainly looked like end of rally dynamics or at least time for a bit of a correction. And this correction is spreading out as other commodities look overpriced meaning that producers of these products might not be able to continue to sell at such high prices which in turn leads to concerns about their stockmarket valuations and which is now causing a drop in overall equity prices. But why in the middle of the year? This is to do with market liquidity. In major financial centres people go on holiday or take their foot off the gas at any rate during the summer. Thus comes May and you see fewer people doing fewer trades. This means that shifts in sentiment and big deals will have disporportionate effects on prices. Ergo the current slump. On the upside though, notwithstanding all arguments about trade imbalances and the falling USD (also often a harbinger of equity market collapse), we have to look at why commodity prices are so high. It's because certain regions are growing very quickly. China and Japan are both growing, albeit at very different rates, the US is growing and so is Western Europe. This is essentially pretty healthy. Interest rates are going up as a result. This is the sign of a healthy economy and a normal global interest rate cycle as opposed to the disaster aversion scenarios that have been in place for a few years now.

The US and China have lead the way out. Productivity is good and improving in many key areas and seems to be one reason why oil at these levels hasn't unduly troubled the major economies. Growth, productivity and some fairly nasty geopolitical risks. Nothing new there then, at least not if the last 10 years is anything to go by.

the business model evolves

2006-05-11T14:43:00.000+12:00

Just had a spot of lunch with AP and heard all about the storm that is being caused in her family a bitter ex- of her brother, with whom she has an 8 year old girl. The ex- is losing it. They separated 4 years ago and now for some reason they are having a blow up and she is calling his whole family to tell them what a bastard he is (A said she really didn't think he was) and rant down the phone also calling them 'wogs' (casual Aussie racist term for people of Mediterranean origin). In addition she has told her daughter never to utter that family name of her father in the house. The daughter has the same name as the father. What a mess.

On the subject of this trial I have now completed of the sales/marketing idea - which went well - I have realised that to make it grow and turn it into a useful business is really a two person job. It really is. One person can perform the function required, but too slowly and then that person is stuck doing the job and can't grow the business either by developing new accounts or devising and running current campaigns. So, need a partner basically. Talked to JS about it yesterday, who has a lot of the skills necessary as well as the knowledge and experience. But does she have the motivation? We shall see. The thing I like about the idea so much is that it requires no capital to start with. And it makes profit very quickly. Perfect. I really see it as a business that could be built into something worth $1m+ in 2-3 years. Just need to get it going.

I have practiced 5 days this week. During the week I have noticed a couple of odd things. Firstly my left leg has had a couple of sciatic grumbles particularly after doing backbends - I think my backbends are getting more acute without being uncomfortable. But I hear the sciatic nerve - slow down. The other wierd thing was that upon eating red meat three evenings in a row I woke feeling depressed three mornings in a row. Thai noodles a fourth evening, woke up fine. I don't eat that much red meat anyway so this is not too much of an issue.

The main aim in practicing a little more regularly is so that when I get to India (September 15th, booked and paid for) it will not be too much of a step up to 6 days a week. Having said that, if I don't make it to every practice I will not consider that a problem, but still a little preparation can't hurt.

Saw a really touching and very thoughtful documentary recently called Born into Brothels . Some of the utterances made by these young kids, with almost no education at all, would sit easily alongside the most memorable and most poignant quotes in literature. Because of their intelligence and perceptiveness, which shines from their faces and the screen, this film more than any I have seen recently gives the lie to the concept that the poor, and especially the children of the poor, do not know the nature of the state of existence they find themselves in. They know they suffer, that they are exploited and shackled by circumstance. And they know the possibility of escape in all but the most exceptional circumstances is zero. From the group of ten or so kids who form the focus of the film and who are literally born and raised in brothels in a tiny alleyway in Calcutta only 2 seem to have found a way out at the end of the film, by getting into, and staying in, schools where they can live outside the red light district.

persistence pays off

2006-05-07T18:19:00.000+12:00

Well, the little marketing/sales exercise has begun on a trial basis and the response so far has been surprisingly good - a few more sales would go down well but the level of acceptance from winery mail list customers is very high. People really want to discuss the wines and winery and are positively overjoyed at the prospect of being called occasionally by us. Good news. Have been using Skype for the calls, a lot cheaper than NZ Telecom (gougers that they are) and this works ok - there is a little bit of a delay, particularly for places that are a long way from their local exchange - for example a few of the mroe rural ones. The Auckland and Wellington homes are fine, and even the delay isn't a real issue for a couple of reasons - firstly Kiwis, like Aussies, are a little bit more laid back on the phone than say Brits of Yanks, so a little pause sits ok with them, and also people are used to ropey lines with mobile calls so they tolerate it and it doesn't interfere with the sell. Now, it occurs to me that of course this activity, skype based as it is, is totally portable and thus could be done comfortably from anywhere with a broadband link. Top of the list then for India. All I need to do is get a campaign hooked up to do over October and November and I could be able to earn while in India. Now that would be incredible.

I did of course nearly ditch this whole exercise the other day, but almost because of a lack of anything else ready to get into I thought 'why not play it out, nothin to lose..."

This could be developed and am already talking to a mate at another winery who seems to suddenly like the idea. Which is a start. So, could look to grind this out a bit further. No start-up costs, only a few hours work per day. Perfect if it can fly. No risk - just my time. Good business.

Yoga wise, I really think my attitude is transforming compared even to 2 months ago. I am trying to totally take any pressure off myself, while also sneaking around to a 4 or 5 practice week. Easy practice if I feel like it. I really notice my ability to observe aspects of what I am doing now without really changing them. A big shift and something I always wondered about. What would it feel like? It feels a like you are almost external to your actual body, clearly able to visualise yourself lying there, or watching the chest rise and fall as if it werent one's own. It's actually incredibly peaceful to do - like a mini break from life almost. This is a big help in terms of grappling with things like the fear and apprehension that sometimes arise before a difficult asana, or just one that keeps getting away from one, like headstand or the Lotus - which is still a way off for me. Fuck it - keep right on!