April 6th, 2011-
Ashram life quickly wore thin.
Maybe it was the 5:45am wake-up for the 6am mandatory yoga class. Maybe it was the the skimpy dinner (one big ladle of rice-curry-gruel) followed by a skimpy breakfast (two chapati and a spiced pickle). Or maybe it was the incomprehensible yoga teacher who continuously insisted that we breathe into “both of our two lungs” (hmm, not sure how to do fail at that!) and spent too much time chanting.
Any way you look at it, we were ready to peace outta there and Rishikish in general. So I risked damnation by the Hindu gods and took a photo of our ashram door. (Funny story: When we first arrived, I thought that our room number was 30. Then I noticed that everyone else’s room number was 30. Then Brenna told me that that symbol means “Om,” not the number 30.)
We grabbed a bus 30km south to the holy city of Haridwar, also on the Ganges. Tired from lack of sleep and too much bad yoga, we grabbed a hotel room near the bus station and crashed out to bad American movies.
For the rest of the day, we spent an obscene amount of time in the nearby restaurant “Big Ben,” watching the noisy Haridwar traffic pass by through thick glass windows. Here Brenna sips on my mango lassi.
Our hotel room was ridiculous. More on that in the next post.