in which we "do" passover

Our seder "plate."

I'm not Jewish, but I'm prone to make broad, sweeping statements along the lines of, "Ugh. Why aren't I Jewish? I wish I was Jewish." Something about this probably has to do with the fact that I'm dating a Jewish boy, and I grew up in a very Jewish community. My high school was across the street from the town's synagogue, and I went to a bat or bar mitzvah pretty much every weekend in seventh grade. (Sometimes I was even double-booked and had to pick between parties. That was a stressful time in my young life.)

Despite my penchant for all things Judaic, my understanding of Passover has always been a little bit...off. When I was younger, I just remember feeling bad for all of my Jewish friends couldn't have regular peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a week in April. For a while I really thought that Passover had something to do with Kofi Annan - the then Secretary General of the UN - until I was corrected and told that you hid an afikomen, not a Ghanian diplomat.

The lamb bone from a clearly freshly slaughtered lamb.

This brings me to today, my first ever Passover seder. Like most of my experimentation with the Jewish faith, it wasn't entirely accurate. Granted, I don't really know what an accurate Passover seder should look like, but something tells me that what I experienced this evening wasn't exactly normal. My Jewish friends led the proceedings in Lodhi Gardens at sunset, which was absolutely beautiful, but there were also a lot of gnats and mosquitoes. We didn't have wine because all of the liquor stores were closed today for Good Friday, so we had Tropicana grape juice. Our plate was actually a paper bag, and the seder candles were birthday candles from a corner store. No matzoh? Let's use saltines instead! My favorite touch was the comic book that Sarah found at the supermarket near our house that illustrated the story of Moses.

But we did have lamb bones, fresh from the butcher in Gabe's Muslim neighborhood. We had a boiled egg from the kitchen at the program center. Most importantly, we had wonderful hosts. Gabe, Sarah, Ari and Lexi explained what all of the food on the paper bag meant, why it was important and went through the motions with particular fervor. They retold the story of Moses, going into extensive background and referencing that animated movie "Prince of Egypt" regularly. It was also a reason for us to get together as a group and to enjoy each others' company, which is never a bad thing.

So that was my first Passover seder. There were clearly some adjustments made due to the whole "being in India" thing, but it was a wonderful experience. Someone really needs to invite me to a seder at a real dinner table in the States next year because the whole thing seems like a lot of fun. I will also say that I wonder what the other people in the park thought of us: a group of crazy Angreez, singing songs and playing with lamb bones and running around trying to find some crackers hidden in a tree...

in which my chakras (and spine) get totally realigned

When I left for India in January, my father was in the midst of reading Steve Jobs's biography. Jobs spent a period of time in India, apparently at an ashram or something, and he came back with all of these ideas about Eastern spirituality and yoga and vegetarianism and whatnot. And my father was terrified that I would come back with these same hokey ideas. Unfortunately for him, I might actually come back totally into yoga and a more intense vegetarian than when I left. (Sorry, Dad, but I'm not going to eat the deer that you shoot.)

It's all because of this week in Rishikesh. I'm totally digging this scene. I'm not really digging the whole "White man finding himself" type that exists in full force in this town, generally replete with dreadlocks and bad tribal tattoos on biceps and forearms. However, yoga is doing good things for me. Like really good things. I've done more physical activity in the past few days than I have in a while, and I feel pretty fit.

Part of this physical activity was a 10-km hike from our guest house to a waterfall. That's right. A waterfall. We didn't swim in the waterfall or jump off the waterfall. It was more of a low-risk wading situation, but it was still incredibly pleasant. After sitting in the water for a while, I lay on a huge boulder for even longer. It was simply wonderful.

We did yoga twice today. Once in the morning and again after the hike. My sun salutations are totally popping now, let me tell you. Our yoga teacher also cracked all of our backs, which was phenomenal because I've felt like there's been a metal rod in my back since I got here.

Oh, did I mention that we also learned how to give ayurvedic massages today? I'm awful, and I think I may have hurt our friend who willingly volunteered to be the massage "victim," but I sort of know what to do with the massage oils now.

What this week has been good for, if nothing else, has been the opportunity to take a break and relax. For the first time in months, I've had free time. Time to myself in which I can do what I want. I've been eating what I want to eat, not just what my host mother or the program center feeds me. Choices are great!

I'm also realizing more and more what I need to be happy, the things that I need to build into my schedule in order to be functional. I need to eat vegetables and fruits in abundance. I like yogurt with museli and honey for breakfast. I need to drink coffee in the morning. I need alone time so that I can decompress, without thinking about other people. I need to exercise regularly.

What's been hard about this program is that I've been on their schedule, and I've spent so much time trying to adapt that I've been ignoring my own basic needs. In our yoga lecture, we were talking about why yoga is so important. It seems to be really contradictory to focus on yourself so much in order to love the rest of the world. It ultimately comes off as really selfish, and it sort of is. But unless you are performing at your best, it'll be impossible to do anything else.

I'll leave you with a car metaphor, because who doesn't love a good car metaphor?

Your body is a car, and life is a highway. If you try to drive down that highway at a reasonable speed in a janky car that's rusting out at the bottom and that hasn't had an oil change in years and that doesn't shift gears properly, you're bound for disaster. You need a car that's well-maintained and cared for, that gets regular tune-ups, and that's when you can safely cruse on the Autobahn at full speed and then some. Yoga is those regular tune-ups.

At least, that's what the guy teaching me yoga in India says.

back to rishikesh

Guess I couldn't stay away from Ganga-ji, huh. Only a few short weeks after my first visit to this city, I came back to Rishikesh. This time with seven girls from my program and one of our teachers as part of our workshop.

We're doing a week-long yoga retreat on the banks of the Ganges River. We have an hour-long yoga class at 8AM, followed by a delicious Ayurvedic breakfast of fruit and lots of toast. At 11AM, we have  a lecture about yoga and philosophy with a guy with an iPhone, so he's really big on making ancient yoga theory accessible for the modern world. Then we've got a long break to explore and to do our own thing. For me, this involved a full-body Ayurvedic massage yesterday afternoon. Another lecture at 4PM followed by a delicious dinner and then it's bedtime by 9PM.

Our first day here, we saw a ceremony at sunset on the banks of the Ganges. It was absolutely beautiful. I took some pictures, but it was nice to just be there as this yogi sang and one of his students played a hand organ and other people sat around a fire. (Did I happen to mention that all of this was happening on the banks of the most sacred river in India? And we had a front row seat, and I totally dipped my feet in the river, hygiene be damned?) I'm so fortunate to be here and to be able to enjoy this time. It feels like a vacation, not an academic exercise, and that is exactly what I needed.

Sorry I can't write more, but I've got to learn about the theory of yoga in a bit. It's like our teacher said on our first day here: "What we're doing now is making our future."

the requisite post about spirituality in india

In the United States, India is synonymous with spirituality, and there is some truth in that statement. I've stumbled upon dozens of temples in my week here. Right now, I am sitting at our host family's kitchen table, and there is a shrine in a small alcove to my right that features a statue of Ganesh, a photograph of our host mother's in-laws and a burning stick of incense. I can hear bells ringing from the small Hindu temple that stands on the corner. Images of the Hindu gods are everywhere and featured very casually at that.

One of these religious sites that I didn't even know was here was the Lotus Temple. This shows my ignorance, I suppose, but I sort of assumed that it was a Hindu temple since we're in India and about 80% of the population is Hindu. However, it's a Bahá'i temple. I didn't even know that Bahá'i was a thing until this afternoon, even though I pass this structure every day on the Metro ride to class.