Alex in motion

After thoroughly enjoying the last two weeks with Selma, it came time for her to return to Montreal. I was accustomed with a travel companion, so it took several days to truly acknowledge I’m alone again. It’s an adjustment that took longer than I expected, and believe it’s a healthy sign that I miss the company of my friends.

Traveling alone has many advantages, and I believe everyone need to experience it for themselves to fully understand why. It’s easy to write about the personal growth you’ll have, on how to completely rely on yourself, your wits, and your decisions, how it’ll improve your confidence and teach you how to be happy by yourself. But until you actually travel to foreign countries, where language is a barrier and different types of decision making occur many times a day, it’s simply a few (digital) words on a (digital) page.

The good news about Selma leaving was locals significantly reduced their constant barraging of questions; asking whether they could take my picture with them. I guess I don’t look as friendly as Selma, lol. Or perhaps they just like women more than men. Either way, they didn’t stop trying to sell me anything and everything though. What would I do with a fan made of peacock feathers anyway?!

Mumbai is the New York City of India, only more Indian. It has everything you could ever need, including Bollywood movies. I didn’t visit for long enough to visit a Bollywood studio but I did see the highly recommended washing ghats. It’s an outdoor area famous for washing clothes, linens and towels from most of the city’s hotels and hospitals. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get lost in the maze of narrow streets as some guy wouldn’t let me continue unless I paid him. Not in the mood for negotiating or arguing, I simply left.

My guide grew up in the largest slum of Mumbai called Dharavi, so I was able to experience life there from a real local. We took turns riding his friend’s motorcycle up and down the busy roads, dodging people, vegetable carts, other vehicles and kids yelling, “Selfie! Selfie!” (they noticed my GoPro extension). We also ate street food, the kind that DIDN’T give me Delhi belly, and played cricket with a few of his brothers (In India, it’s customary to refer to your closest friends as “brothers”).

Only a few pictures to share, and a quick video of the motorcycle ride.

Varanasi was not part of our initial itinerary, but since we had several free days after shortening our time at the ashram, Selma and I decided to visit. It was a great choice 🙂

The highlight was the Ganges river ceremony, known as the aarti ceremony, which has occurred every evening for the last 600+ years. In essence, they pay tribute to the river for providing life. It was a humbling experience, due to the passion and dedication of the priests. There was also a full moon, which contributed to the vibrant energy. With VIP seats, we had a superior view high above the throng.

Really early the next morning, we enjoyed a boat tour on the Ganges, and comfortably watched the sun lazily rise. This was followed by an eye-opening visit of a crematorium by the shores of the river. Poor people who are unable to have a proper burial are able to be burned on a pyre. Special wood, gathered by boat 500km away, masks the smell of burning flesh.

The gentleman who explained everything has been doing this volunteer work for the last 35 years. He does it for karma, so him and his family will be well provided in this life (they don’t believe in reincarnation). I wasn’t allowed to take pictures of this area, and I’m quite sure you don’t want to see bodies being turned into charcoal anyway.

In other news, Selma dropped my camera, so I’m not able to take proper pictures for the next several days while it’s being fixed. I took a few photos with my camera, but obviously the quality is not the same. To compensate, here’s a video of a honking session during a mild evening in Varanasi.

Selma convinced me to spend a week in an ashram just outside Rishikesh, to practice meditation and yoga. It didn’t take much to convince me, as I was already curious about deepening the connection to my inner self and had previously practiced yoga a number of times.

My only conditions were the place must have a secular approach to meditation and the accommodations and meals must be included. She found an interesting place named Phool Chatti Ashram, located next to the mystic Ganges river. It seemed to meet our needs and much more. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite what we hoped for. Upon arrival, we were given the daily itinerary:

• 05:30 wake-up bell
• 06:00 silent meditation
• 06:30 chanting
• 06:45 yogic cleansing
• 07:00 breathing exercises
• 07:15 hatha yoga
• 09:00 breakfast
• 10:00 karma yoga
• 10:30 meditative walk
• 12:30 lunch & tea
• 13:00 free time
• 15:00 lecture & discussion
• 16:00 ashtanga yoga
• 17:30 breathing exercises
• 17:45 temple pooja (ritual)
• 18:00 kirtan (sacred singing)
• 19:30 dinner
• 20:30 guided meditation

If you think that’s a lot and too intensive for a beginner, I agree. I made it two days before my body and mind gave out. On the 3rd day, Selma and I cancelled the rest of the week and left. Why exactly?

Firstly, the place didn’t have a secular approach. The chanting, singing and all rituals had a strong connection to Shanti, the deity associated to yoga. I wasn’t the only one to complain about this; there was a German couple that opt-ed out of these ceremonies as well. If I wanted to pray to a god, I would have picked a place that was upfront about it.

Secondly, the place was a paradox. For example, on the first day, the instructors said they wanted to break down the national boundaries of the 30 students and have us connect in other ways. Following this, they asked us to introduce ourselves with our country of origin (so much for eliminating nationalities) and said 80% of the week would be in silence (so much for trying to connect with others). I actually mostly enjoyed the silence, but it was quite awkward after travelling with a friend you’re used to talking with regularly. I wanted to share my new thoughts and feelings about the experience, but was unable.

Thirdly, the facility had an overabundance of cement, steel doors, locks, cages, sparse rooms, firm beds and tin roofs that made me feel like I was in a prison more than a place of peace. The only time I felt a peace was when I stopped going to the classes and relaxed on a patio overlooking the river.

Lastly, there was barely any free time to explore your own thoughts and ideas. Instead, the strict itinerary forced you completely obey the schedule, shoving plenty of other people’s thoughts down your throat.

A much less structured and religious ashram would have been better, and although this experience didn’t end well, I have not given up on my spiritual exploration.