As I say farewell to Hampi, I do so with mixed feelings; it's been such a beautiful experience so I'll be sad to leave. But next destination - the Sivananda Ashram in Neyyar Dam, Kerala - is one that I'm eagerly anticipating. I spent 2 weeks there in 2011, and felt so good physically, spiritually and mentally afterwards that I have decided to return over Christmas and New Year for another intensive session of yoga, meditation and obligatory chanting.
To reach the ashram from Hampi is a long process, but fairly easy. First, it's an overnight bus to Mangalore (Indian sleeper buses are pretty good; you get a little bed compartment and a curtain for privacy...shame the roads are like rubble so it's difficult to get a decent nights sleep!), then an overnight train from Mangalore to Trivandrum. From Trivandrum it's a 1.5 hour bus ride to Neyyar Dam, a tiny little village slightly inland, and where the Sivananda Ashram is sited. Both journeys are long, but go without a hitch, so I arrive to the ashram feeling ready to get stuck in to schedule as soon as possible.
During the Christmas and New Year period the ashram runs YACP - a Yoga and Ayruveda Cultural Programme. It's fundametally the same as the standard Yoga Vacation programme that runs, but with the addition of a few more Indian cultural performances and activites - everything from classical dance, to martial arts demonstrations to devotional singing.
My first day at the ashram begins well enough; afternoon yoga and a bit of chill out time. But by evening, an apple i bought at the train station in Mangalore has come back to haunt me, and I spend the next 12 hours nauseous and hunched over the toilet throwing up. Luckily it passes quickly, and by the 2nd afternoon i'm feeling good again.
The ashram becomes my Keralan home for the next 2 weeks, and very rapidly I settle in to the (fairly) intense and busy schedule. The morning wake up bell rings at 5.20 am (hideous; i despise being forcibly woken by the very oppressive and relentless bell-ringing) and then from 6am till 7.30 am it's Satsang, a compulsory session of meditation and chanting. Morning satsangs are always a struggle; it's too early, everyone is tired and the repetitve chanting of "Hare Krishna" and "Jaya Ganesha" can really grate. A few times I decide to bunk off the morning Satsangs, but this is ususally unsuccessful, as a staff member will stroll through the dorm softly singing "Om, Satang, time to get up" at 6am making sure that everyone gets up to go. No luck!
7.30 is chai-o'clock, and i usually squeeze in 3 cups of sugary goodness before morning yoga. The 2 hour morning sessions are a brilliant way to start the day - intensive and thorough, but not too knackering. By the time they finish, we eat the first of out 2 meals per day. Brunch is definitely the best meal, served thali-style and with 4 or 5 different foods on the tray (dinner, on the other hand, is a bit of a let down; ususally a watery daal or okra curry with a couple of chapatis). Afternoons are largely free time (ususally to be spen inside the ashram walls), and aside from a spot of reading and writing, i tend to catch up on some sleep during this time. Staying in the dormitory is great and all, but 40 women in one room means it can be difficult to sleep during the night. My first couple of nights are spent wide awake listening to the thunderous rumbling snores of an obese German woman; despite the karmic implications I am very tempted to put a pillow over her face at times.
By 3.30pm, it's time for afternoon yoga - my favourite part of the day. It's so relaxing, but so very thorough that I feel completely blissful when the 2 hour class is over. And of course my enjoyment is heightened by the fact that I am totally in love with my yoga teacher, a very zen, long-haired Israeli (I can barely even look at him, it's all very pathetic).
By 6pm, we eat again, as usual sat cross legged and using our right hand. After dinner is free time for mot people, but I have an hour of Karma yoga to complete, which consists of making juices and smoothies for hungry ashramites in the Health Hut. Because dinner is usually pretty dull and unsatisfying, the evening shift in the Health Hut is busy, and by the time we finish I am shattered. But of course, the day is not over; and we end our day in the same fashion as it begins....another Satsang. It's pretty much the same drill (meditation and chanting), but during the festive period the evening sessions include some Indian cultural events, which on the whole are pretty good. Highlights over the 2 weeks include an amazing, passionate devotional singer with dreadlocks to the floor, martial artists complete with swords and fireballs, and a silent walk to a very steep hill-top temple to witness an annual puja. Hypnotic, fast-paced drumming, incense, fire ceremonies and chanting make for a heady experience.
A real mixed bag of people com to stay in the ashram, and it makes for a brilliant place to meet people from all walks of life. There are yoga devotees who have come simply to improve their practice, people who are attempting to detox from western life (foods, alcohol, drugs, technology etc) and hard-core religious nutters (a few of whom are taking the whole thing a little too seriously and can be spotted a mile off...bleating on about karma, scowling at people who swear and occasionally stroking the statues of Hindu gods with a demented look in their eyes). And then there are those that have come to atone for their sins and try to reverse the damage that they've inflicted on themselves over the years; drug addicts, alocholics and masochists attmpeting to find solace in yoga and meditation. The ashram is seemingly a refuge for lost souls and misfits; a spot where everyone can find thier place, discover more about themselves and reflect upon what they want out of life, in a peaceful and accepting environment.
The inclusive environment is something I really enjoy about Sivananda. Without any stimulants, without caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, drugs, non-sattvic foods, TV, etc, every individual who attends is pretty much stripped bare, and so we all have no choice but to view each other in our purest, rawest human form. This is a really beautiful way to meet people, and to form bonds and relationships. I suspect that for most people, including myself, this is a little unusual. I'm used to forming relationships through alcohol - meeting friends for drinks and such like. And although I'm only here for a couple of weeks, it's a genuine pleasure to live a little bit of life devoid of external pressure and stimuli; to let go of the ego and surrender to this experience.
For the first week of my stay, I feel inexplicably narcotically high. My body feels strong from 4 hours of yoga per day, my mind feels clear, and I am meeting such interesting people that my mind is really engaged in the present. It's such purity and clairty that I can't really recall feeling before, and I am beaming from ear to ear. In fact, most people here are. Of course the setting helps; rural, lush gardens, jungle and fruit trees, and a vast lake on the doorsetep teeming with wildlife.
But ashram life is far from perfect. The ridigity of the schedule is often difficut to adjust and adapt to, and there are countless oddballs and characters. So by day 10, after feeling such blissful highs, and am really not surprised when I begin to encounter a few lows. Actually, I'd be more concerned if I didn't. One afternoon, in the middle of the Downwards Dog, I get the overwhelming sense that I am going to burst in to tears, and for the rest of the day I feel flat. But upon discussion with a few others, I discover that this is not uncommon. A few friends have also felt tearful and emotional, for apparently no just reason. The best way to deal with this - with anything in an ashram - is simply to allow yourself to surrender to it. No complaining abut the early mornings. No frustration at things running late or over time. Embracing the chanting (by grabbing a tambourine and joining in), rather than resisting it. Focussing on the present, rather than worrying about past or future. Just allowing yourself to be.
Spending Christmas and New Year in such an environment is certainly unique. Hundreds of relative strangers, bound together by a common circumstance, enjoying the festive period for what it really is. A time to relax, reflect and forget about materialism and commercialism. On Christmas Eve, the usual 10.30 pm lights-out is ignored in favour of chanting, carroling, symbolic candle-lighting ceremonies and - as an extra special treat - a slice of cake. The simplicity of it all is really beautiful, and the appreciation and contentment we feel at being given a little piece of cake is really tangible. Individual energy becomes collective, and this really is motivational and inspiring, and helps everyone carry on their ashram journey through to the New Year.
New Years eve in an ashram is certainly different to the standard new years experience. The last 3 years celebrations have been spent in India and South East anyway, partying or at the very least having a drink. But this is perhaps the first time since childhood where I have enjoyed a totally sober festive period, and the first time ever where I welcome the new year around a bonfire, chanting for world peace (Om Namo Narayanaya...), and dancing to traditional Indian music. Spirits are high, and most people are dancing wildly, moving thier bodies freely and laughing, totally without the aid of a vodka. Again, we a treated, this time to a herbal coffee and a piece of chocolate cake. Simple pleasures!
And by midnight, the party is over. Normal service will resume in the morning.
For a few us though, January 1st is the day that we have decided to jump ship and head up the coast for a bit of beach time. I have really (for the most part) embraced my time in the ashram, and feel heart-happy at the lessons learned, experiences and people I have met. Ok, so I'm not about to sign away my life to the Hare Krishnas, but the ethos of this type of communal living is pretty attractiv at times. Perhpas that's why so many people return time and time again, and stay for months on end. If nothing else, at least I have picked up a little discipline, particularly with regard to continuing my own indivdual yoga prctice.
But 2 weeks of okra curry, early mornings, relentless snorers and mosquito bites mean that I am ready to leave. I need to return to my flighty existence; to eat what I want when want. To wake up when I please. To vegetate on the beach, and swim in the sea. I feel pretty bloody healthy too, so this is the perfect opportunity to retox with a Paneer Butter Masala and a Kingfisher.
Sivananda, it's been beautiful. Maybe I'll see you again soon.
But for now, Varkala beach is calling....
Om, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti!
Sivananda Ashram, Neyyar Dam, Kerala
Getting there: Trivandrum is the nearest city, and there are international as well as national flights directly to there. i arrived on the train from Mangalore. From Trivandrum, it is 1.5 hours to the ashram by local bus, and cost about Rs 20. The bus stand is 2 minutes walk from the train station.
Cost: The prices have been hiked 15% as of the 1st of January, but to stay at the ashram in a dormitory room during the YACP (with all food, yoga, cultural events included), I paid Rs 750. Dorms do not need to be booked, you can simply turn up and beds are allocated on a first come first served basis. Privates are available, but need to be booked well in advance. Check website for the lastest details and programme dates. www.sivananda.org
Food: Food is 2 lacto-vegetarian meals per day, served at 10am and 6pm. Expect lots of veggies, rice, beans, pulses an chapatis. Despite what you might think, you won't go hungry! The Health Hut supplements the perpetually starving, selling juices, fruits salds, milk shakes and even cheese on toast if you need a bit of comfort foods.
Neyyar Dam is a tiny village, but there are a few small kiosks and shops, so if you are desperate you can wander down the hill for a packet of biscuits or a sweets.
To reach the ashram from Hampi is a long process, but fairly easy. First, it's an overnight bus to Mangalore (Indian sleeper buses are pretty good; you get a little bed compartment and a curtain for privacy...shame the roads are like rubble so it's difficult to get a decent nights sleep!), then an overnight train from Mangalore to Trivandrum. From Trivandrum it's a 1.5 hour bus ride to Neyyar Dam, a tiny little village slightly inland, and where the Sivananda Ashram is sited. Both journeys are long, but go without a hitch, so I arrive to the ashram feeling ready to get stuck in to schedule as soon as possible.
During the Christmas and New Year period the ashram runs YACP - a Yoga and Ayruveda Cultural Programme. It's fundametally the same as the standard Yoga Vacation programme that runs, but with the addition of a few more Indian cultural performances and activites - everything from classical dance, to martial arts demonstrations to devotional singing.
My first day at the ashram begins well enough; afternoon yoga and a bit of chill out time. But by evening, an apple i bought at the train station in Mangalore has come back to haunt me, and I spend the next 12 hours nauseous and hunched over the toilet throwing up. Luckily it passes quickly, and by the 2nd afternoon i'm feeling good again.
The ashram becomes my Keralan home for the next 2 weeks, and very rapidly I settle in to the (fairly) intense and busy schedule. The morning wake up bell rings at 5.20 am (hideous; i despise being forcibly woken by the very oppressive and relentless bell-ringing) and then from 6am till 7.30 am it's Satsang, a compulsory session of meditation and chanting. Morning satsangs are always a struggle; it's too early, everyone is tired and the repetitve chanting of "Hare Krishna" and "Jaya Ganesha" can really grate. A few times I decide to bunk off the morning Satsangs, but this is ususally unsuccessful, as a staff member will stroll through the dorm softly singing "Om, Satang, time to get up" at 6am making sure that everyone gets up to go. No luck!
7.30 is chai-o'clock, and i usually squeeze in 3 cups of sugary goodness before morning yoga. The 2 hour morning sessions are a brilliant way to start the day - intensive and thorough, but not too knackering. By the time they finish, we eat the first of out 2 meals per day. Brunch is definitely the best meal, served thali-style and with 4 or 5 different foods on the tray (dinner, on the other hand, is a bit of a let down; ususally a watery daal or okra curry with a couple of chapatis). Afternoons are largely free time (ususally to be spen inside the ashram walls), and aside from a spot of reading and writing, i tend to catch up on some sleep during this time. Staying in the dormitory is great and all, but 40 women in one room means it can be difficult to sleep during the night. My first couple of nights are spent wide awake listening to the thunderous rumbling snores of an obese German woman; despite the karmic implications I am very tempted to put a pillow over her face at times.
By 3.30pm, it's time for afternoon yoga - my favourite part of the day. It's so relaxing, but so very thorough that I feel completely blissful when the 2 hour class is over. And of course my enjoyment is heightened by the fact that I am totally in love with my yoga teacher, a very zen, long-haired Israeli (I can barely even look at him, it's all very pathetic).
By 6pm, we eat again, as usual sat cross legged and using our right hand. After dinner is free time for mot people, but I have an hour of Karma yoga to complete, which consists of making juices and smoothies for hungry ashramites in the Health Hut. Because dinner is usually pretty dull and unsatisfying, the evening shift in the Health Hut is busy, and by the time we finish I am shattered. But of course, the day is not over; and we end our day in the same fashion as it begins....another Satsang. It's pretty much the same drill (meditation and chanting), but during the festive period the evening sessions include some Indian cultural events, which on the whole are pretty good. Highlights over the 2 weeks include an amazing, passionate devotional singer with dreadlocks to the floor, martial artists complete with swords and fireballs, and a silent walk to a very steep hill-top temple to witness an annual puja. Hypnotic, fast-paced drumming, incense, fire ceremonies and chanting make for a heady experience.
A real mixed bag of people com to stay in the ashram, and it makes for a brilliant place to meet people from all walks of life. There are yoga devotees who have come simply to improve their practice, people who are attempting to detox from western life (foods, alcohol, drugs, technology etc) and hard-core religious nutters (a few of whom are taking the whole thing a little too seriously and can be spotted a mile off...bleating on about karma, scowling at people who swear and occasionally stroking the statues of Hindu gods with a demented look in their eyes). And then there are those that have come to atone for their sins and try to reverse the damage that they've inflicted on themselves over the years; drug addicts, alocholics and masochists attmpeting to find solace in yoga and meditation. The ashram is seemingly a refuge for lost souls and misfits; a spot where everyone can find thier place, discover more about themselves and reflect upon what they want out of life, in a peaceful and accepting environment.
The inclusive environment is something I really enjoy about Sivananda. Without any stimulants, without caffeine, nicotine, alcohol, drugs, non-sattvic foods, TV, etc, every individual who attends is pretty much stripped bare, and so we all have no choice but to view each other in our purest, rawest human form. This is a really beautiful way to meet people, and to form bonds and relationships. I suspect that for most people, including myself, this is a little unusual. I'm used to forming relationships through alcohol - meeting friends for drinks and such like. And although I'm only here for a couple of weeks, it's a genuine pleasure to live a little bit of life devoid of external pressure and stimuli; to let go of the ego and surrender to this experience.
For the first week of my stay, I feel inexplicably narcotically high. My body feels strong from 4 hours of yoga per day, my mind feels clear, and I am meeting such interesting people that my mind is really engaged in the present. It's such purity and clairty that I can't really recall feeling before, and I am beaming from ear to ear. In fact, most people here are. Of course the setting helps; rural, lush gardens, jungle and fruit trees, and a vast lake on the doorsetep teeming with wildlife.
But ashram life is far from perfect. The ridigity of the schedule is often difficut to adjust and adapt to, and there are countless oddballs and characters. So by day 10, after feeling such blissful highs, and am really not surprised when I begin to encounter a few lows. Actually, I'd be more concerned if I didn't. One afternoon, in the middle of the Downwards Dog, I get the overwhelming sense that I am going to burst in to tears, and for the rest of the day I feel flat. But upon discussion with a few others, I discover that this is not uncommon. A few friends have also felt tearful and emotional, for apparently no just reason. The best way to deal with this - with anything in an ashram - is simply to allow yourself to surrender to it. No complaining abut the early mornings. No frustration at things running late or over time. Embracing the chanting (by grabbing a tambourine and joining in), rather than resisting it. Focussing on the present, rather than worrying about past or future. Just allowing yourself to be.
Spending Christmas and New Year in such an environment is certainly unique. Hundreds of relative strangers, bound together by a common circumstance, enjoying the festive period for what it really is. A time to relax, reflect and forget about materialism and commercialism. On Christmas Eve, the usual 10.30 pm lights-out is ignored in favour of chanting, carroling, symbolic candle-lighting ceremonies and - as an extra special treat - a slice of cake. The simplicity of it all is really beautiful, and the appreciation and contentment we feel at being given a little piece of cake is really tangible. Individual energy becomes collective, and this really is motivational and inspiring, and helps everyone carry on their ashram journey through to the New Year.
New Years eve in an ashram is certainly different to the standard new years experience. The last 3 years celebrations have been spent in India and South East anyway, partying or at the very least having a drink. But this is perhaps the first time since childhood where I have enjoyed a totally sober festive period, and the first time ever where I welcome the new year around a bonfire, chanting for world peace (Om Namo Narayanaya...), and dancing to traditional Indian music. Spirits are high, and most people are dancing wildly, moving thier bodies freely and laughing, totally without the aid of a vodka. Again, we a treated, this time to a herbal coffee and a piece of chocolate cake. Simple pleasures!
And by midnight, the party is over. Normal service will resume in the morning.
For a few us though, January 1st is the day that we have decided to jump ship and head up the coast for a bit of beach time. I have really (for the most part) embraced my time in the ashram, and feel heart-happy at the lessons learned, experiences and people I have met. Ok, so I'm not about to sign away my life to the Hare Krishnas, but the ethos of this type of communal living is pretty attractiv at times. Perhpas that's why so many people return time and time again, and stay for months on end. If nothing else, at least I have picked up a little discipline, particularly with regard to continuing my own indivdual yoga prctice.
But 2 weeks of okra curry, early mornings, relentless snorers and mosquito bites mean that I am ready to leave. I need to return to my flighty existence; to eat what I want when want. To wake up when I please. To vegetate on the beach, and swim in the sea. I feel pretty bloody healthy too, so this is the perfect opportunity to retox with a Paneer Butter Masala and a Kingfisher.
Sivananda, it's been beautiful. Maybe I'll see you again soon.
But for now, Varkala beach is calling....
Om, Shanti, Shanti, Shanti!
Sivananda Ashram, Neyyar Dam, Kerala
Getting there: Trivandrum is the nearest city, and there are international as well as national flights directly to there. i arrived on the train from Mangalore. From Trivandrum, it is 1.5 hours to the ashram by local bus, and cost about Rs 20. The bus stand is 2 minutes walk from the train station.
Cost: The prices have been hiked 15% as of the 1st of January, but to stay at the ashram in a dormitory room during the YACP (with all food, yoga, cultural events included), I paid Rs 750. Dorms do not need to be booked, you can simply turn up and beds are allocated on a first come first served basis. Privates are available, but need to be booked well in advance. Check website for the lastest details and programme dates. www.sivananda.org
Food: Food is 2 lacto-vegetarian meals per day, served at 10am and 6pm. Expect lots of veggies, rice, beans, pulses an chapatis. Despite what you might think, you won't go hungry! The Health Hut supplements the perpetually starving, selling juices, fruits salds, milk shakes and even cheese on toast if you need a bit of comfort foods.
Neyyar Dam is a tiny village, but there are a few small kiosks and shops, so if you are desperate you can wander down the hill for a packet of biscuits or a sweets.
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