My First Yoga
July 6, 2006
I want to begin this entry with the usual disclaimer. I´m typing on a very worn Spànish keyboard. Please forgive.
While I was in Tulsa this Spring, I had some real doubts about taking on Costa Rica so soo after The Moving Project. It seemed just a little demasiado. )Has any one bought a Spanish dictionary yet?)
Then one Oklahoma morning, I opened my meditation book and that day´s page spoke of meditating in Costa Rica while watching the monkeys run across the tops of the tress in waves.
Well, ok. If you put it that way.
So I guess the subconcious bar for yoga in Costa Rica was set pretty high.
I spent the first week just trying to find a class. My two buddies at the sandwich shop on the corner by the school tried to help. They corrected my pronunciation, made some phone calls and then tried to give me directions. All of this was done in rapid fire Spanish on my second day here. By the way, it.s pronounced
JHO HA.
I didn´t even have a mat because althought I usually take one with me everywhere, I was trying to travel very light so I left it at home. Pablo wrote down the best word he could think of for yoga mat, concheta de exejersicio. So I wondered all over the market asking for this in my fractured accent.
My host mom found me a class 2 blocks from the house and even walked me down there, just like a little kid on the first day of school.
This was not the yoga I was used to. First of all, everything was in Spanish. Imagine! That wasn´t such a big deal since I knew the poses, but I wasn´t prepared for the extremely slow pace. The teacher, who was very nice, reminded me of my 7th grade gym teacher. The background music was American 80´s top ten in instumental form. Sun Salutation set to an muzak Bridge OVer Troubled Waters was kind of odd. And of course, we had the ever present traffic symphony drowning out everything else.
But the upside. I met a very nice woman who spoke English and she helped me . Weirdly enough, she looked and sounded just like Chris´Aunt Mae. She even offered to buy me a yoga mat and bring it to the next class.
At the end of the class, everyone clapped for the brave American yogini and made me feel very welcome, with kisses on the cheek and lots of touching and talking. And I have a new, bright green, Costa Rican yoga mat that come complete with several new friends.
I want to begin this entry with the usual disclaimer. I´m typing on a very worn Spànish keyboard. Please forgive.
While I was in Tulsa this Spring, I had some real doubts about taking on Costa Rica so soo after The Moving Project. It seemed just a little demasiado. )Has any one bought a Spanish dictionary yet?)
Then one Oklahoma morning, I opened my meditation book and that day´s page spoke of meditating in Costa Rica while watching the monkeys run across the tops of the tress in waves.
Well, ok. If you put it that way.
So I guess the subconcious bar for yoga in Costa Rica was set pretty high.
I spent the first week just trying to find a class. My two buddies at the sandwich shop on the corner by the school tried to help. They corrected my pronunciation, made some phone calls and then tried to give me directions. All of this was done in rapid fire Spanish on my second day here. By the way, it.s pronounced
JHO HA.
I didn´t even have a mat because althought I usually take one with me everywhere, I was trying to travel very light so I left it at home. Pablo wrote down the best word he could think of for yoga mat, concheta de exejersicio. So I wondered all over the market asking for this in my fractured accent.
My host mom found me a class 2 blocks from the house and even walked me down there, just like a little kid on the first day of school.
This was not the yoga I was used to. First of all, everything was in Spanish. Imagine! That wasn´t such a big deal since I knew the poses, but I wasn´t prepared for the extremely slow pace. The teacher, who was very nice, reminded me of my 7th grade gym teacher. The background music was American 80´s top ten in instumental form. Sun Salutation set to an muzak Bridge OVer Troubled Waters was kind of odd. And of course, we had the ever present traffic symphony drowning out everything else.
But the upside. I met a very nice woman who spoke English and she helped me . Weirdly enough, she looked and sounded just like Chris´Aunt Mae. She even offered to buy me a yoga mat and bring it to the next class.
At the end of the class, everyone clapped for the brave American yogini and made me feel very welcome, with kisses on the cheek and lots of touching and talking. And I have a new, bright green, Costa Rican yoga mat that come complete with several new friends.
posted by Karen | 2:59 PM
2 Comments:
I left a comment earlier, doesn't look like it showed up...maybe you'll get this one. Wow! Your first blog! This is such a great form of communication! It is wonderful to be able to follow you through each day! Your writing is very interesting and entertaining. Sounds like your having a great time and doing wonderful things! Enjoy! I will be awaiting your next entry! Denna
You are my hero! I would have been way to scared to attend yoga in a different language. But now you are all bi-lingual and stuff. How do you say Namaste in spanish? Hee Hee!
Love,
Donna
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