After Carol left, I left Nepal. My visa expired and I decided to do a panchakarma treatment in Dehli.
Panchakarma translates into “5 karmas”. It’s an ayuverdic prodecure that can involve up to (and more sometimes more than) 5 treatments. Read more about them here. I thought I’d try it to address the digestive intolerances I’ve had for the last 8 years.
Although I was advised against it, I took Indigo airlines. The trip was short and relatively pleasant. I was surprised with the amount of leg room I had for being a cheap flight. I was also surprised to find that the lines at the Indian customs was quick. Anirudh, my friend that I’d be staying with in Dehli, said India had changed a lot since I was last here 6 years ago. After landing, I noticed that all of the advertising boards in the airport had a short video of a white woman sporting a white trench coat. The ad wasn’t advertising any brand. It just simply said “style”. This ad was everywhere. I guess this was like some kind of rebranding strategy. The airport was clean and had people movers.
It was good to see Anirudh again. I would be staying with him and his family for the 11 days of my treament. It was also good to see cows on the street.
The second day I was in Dehli, we met up with Addi, a fellow earthbag workshop participant. That was fun. We took the metro for part of our travels around the city. The metro was modern, clean, and cheap.
After getting some preliminary tests done, blood and such, the ayuverdic doctor prescribed my 11 day treatment. The treatment involved oil massages, steam baths, other treatments, and eating “kitchery” everyday, a mix of rice and lentils, which is supposed to be good for the gut. It remains to this day a simple favorite I’ve had almost everyday since.
I am so thankful to Anirudh’s mom for cooking for me during this time.
Those 11 days seemed to go on for a long time, but it wasn’t bad, just long. I stayed in the suburbs, in these residential towers on the 20th floor. One of my favorite features of being out there was the accessibility of fresh produce. There was a daily market right outside the apartment complex in the mornings and one down the street that opened at nights.
The healing process that happened was like magic: seamless and multilayered. The only way I know how to explain it is through my perspective which is that all sickness is psychosomatic, so its necessary to also talk about the readings that came up and my observations at this time.
My readings had to do with the insubstantiality of mind. Prior to reading this, they had to do with the insubstantiality of the phenomenal world. So although it seems logical that this should follow the preceding, its actually pretty challenging for me to properly understand/ embody this teaching in anything other than a superficial conceptual level.
Meanwhile, what I was observing “at home” was Indian family. Anirudh lives with his parents. His sister and brother-in-law, who both also work remotely, come over everyday. His mom has a beautiful shrine that she adorns with flowers and other offerings daily. She or one of her children chant some mantra/sutra and ring a bell as part of daily chanting. There is a lot of love in the home. I think the witnessing and participating in this type of environment was also a necessary part of my healing.
I’m glad to report that the treatment was effective! I’m able have many of the foods I couldn’t eat prior to the treatment, in moderation. It really is still somewhat unbelievable.
There are no words for the gratitude I feel for my doctors, Anirudh, and his family.
The day after my treatment ended, I took a trip to visit the lotus temple. It had been more than 10 years since I’d been to this place. I remember it being more magical than it was this time around. The architecture is amazing, but at this time, there seemed to have been more regulatory control on the lines and moving the people. The temple has these marble seats that are nice to look at, but not so nice to sit on.
After Dehli, I decided to embark on a few things I’d been wanting to do in India for a while. They weren’t major, but I figured since I was in the area, I might as well do them.
First, Goa.
I just wanted to dance. (And actually at any given time of my life this always hold true, its like my prayer).
The conditions pave the way for action. Its just somewhat unusual for the conditions to bring about that kind of action in my life these days, but having just left Delhi, I was in a kind of prolonged elated state.
My arrival in Goa was marked by a sense of surreality, continued elation, and joy. I arrived at hostel called “Spaceland”. Actually, I had intended to stay on the northernmost beach in Goa, Arambol, but because of careless planning, I booked my hostel in Mandrem, the district just south of Arambol. Goa is quite spread out. I was told multiple times that I should rent a motorbike/scooter to get around. The first day there, I walked up to Arambol to see if a bike was really warranted. I spent the day walking through residential paths, getting to Arambol, checking out potential hostels to move to, checking out the shops, then looking for a good party. I actually found that there were a lot of good venues/ bars along the beach front as the sun went down. When I mean “good” I mean I would potentially dance to that music. Sadly, no one was dancing, just drinking and eating. I walked south back toward my hostel.
There I met up with my roommate, Swaroop. He invited me to this “tribal” fire party. The event was put on by this association called “Trip Foundation” which is comprised of mostly Russians. There are a lot of Russians and Israelis in Goa.
When I arrived, the fire show had already begun. There were staff, poi, and other misc fire performers. The performers were quite good, particularly the poi performer. There certainly was a lot of fire. At one point, two girls came out with a flame thrower in each arm, firing into the air. The grand finale included several performers dancing at once then lighting a chain link fence on fire to spell out “trip foundation”.
After the performers were done, the dj started playing. At first, the music hit me and I was like, “oh yes”, but moments later I was like, “oh no”. That’s really the best way to describe it. I think the circumstances were such that it masked the heavy, dark, irregular beats for its initial moments so as to be perceived as enjoyable. Perhaps it was because the performance I’d just witness was in some ways incredible… in other ways a bit much. At some point I decided the music was definitely not worth dancing to. I exited to get a drink. The bar was full of people speaking Russian. I walked up. The bartender served everyone besides me. Then he served the people who came up after me. He didn’t make eye contact with me. At some point after he served another customer, I interrupted him, money in hand, and asked for a water. He said he didn’t have water, then he said, “oh wait”, he looked down, and picked up a bottle. Then he asked for exact change, or to take two. I found and gave him exact change, pretty irate at this point. I’d seen him handling cash with other customers. I took my drink and left. I headed to the fire performance area where there were still people playing with fire. The air was thick with the smell of fuel and smoke. My eyes were beginning to burn. The music was awkward. I couldn’t find a reason to stay so I left. That was a strange turn of events and a weird night. It really had the makings of an epic party but turned south on a dime.
A fine lesson in detachment? A cosmic joke at play? If I was the orchestrator of such a joke, I would certainly would be amused.
The next day I woke up for my morning routine, then took a nap after breakfast, and slept and slept and slept. Wow, the exhaustion of the previous day hit me. I could see why people use bikes to get around. I woke up again around 4pm, rented a bike, and drove down to the southern beaches.
I found this one bar that had great music, but no one was dancing and the drinks were a bit out of my budget. These kinds of scenes happened to me a few times here. Tragic. Eventually, I ended up at an open air club/bar called Anti-social. The music was hit or miss, sometimes having some pretty epic songs. I chatted up a guy I recognized who was also staying at Spaceland. Eventually he left. The music was good enough to stick around for. By this time I decided I would dance regardless if I was the only one. I’ve hit this point before in my youth. Glad to be here again 🙂
The next day, on the full moon, I decided to go to a Circular Connected Breathing workshop. Wow. That was powerful. The facilitator guided the international group of participants through what I can best describe as a kind of hyperventilation technique in conjunction with moving the pelvis. The effect is the uncovering of subconscious trauma.
After I had lovely chat with some of the participants at the resort’s cafe.
Later that night, most of the participants met up at this full moon cacao ceremony that included some ecstatic dance and a singing circle. That was fun.
The next day I went to a contact improv jam! Its been ages since I’ve been to one. It was so good to be in that environment. After, I went to a venue where one of my workshop peers was performing. He’s actually kind of a celebrity. He (Nader) is the drummer for the German band Nena, best known for their song “99 luft balloons”.
After this I decided leave Goa. Goa has a lot going on, always, but once you take a step back, you can kind of collect yourself and move one.
bodymovin.net 