Home in Rishikesh, India

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FEBRUARY 12, 2013

I don't need no arms around me
And I dont need no drugs to calm me.
I have seen the writing on the wall.
Don't think I need anything at all.
No! Don't think I'll need anything at all.
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall.

- Roger Waters, Another Brick in the Wall (Part 3)

Rishikesh. I’m home.  Or at least that’s what it feels like.

View from the roof of my guest house.

One of the pups at the guest house.

Two days ago I arrived here with the intent of staying three days.  I may never leave.  This place is a travelers trap if I’ve ever seen one.  It has all the characteristics – great weather yet not good enough for a huge tourism draw, foreign culture yet enough Europen/American flavor to get your fix if you need it, small enough to see the same faces everyday yet big enough to be anonymous when you want, and very cheap lodging.  

Chillin with my friends on the banks of the Ganges

Sadly, I narrowly missed catching up with John, Paul, George and Ringo by about 45 years.  However, the legacy of The Beatles time here studying with the Maharishi is still evident.  Their old abandoned ashram is still an off-the-beaten-path destination to visit.  In the years that followed their well-chronicled season here, Rishikesh has become quite the yoga haven.  Classes are taught all day on every block.  Teacher training programs are a dime a dozen.  Beautiful women walk the street in tight yoga clothing like they are back in the U.S. and, also just like back in the U.S., completely ignore my every attempt at communication.  Probably for the better as this destination is more about my inward journey and processing the learning and experiences of my retreat.

My neighbor Jen with one of the pups

I sit in the Little Buddha restaurant.  After five days of “Delhi belly” I’m ready to eat but don’t dare to hit the street food again quite yet.  This is a travel’s bar.  Menu is European.  Waiter speaks perfect English.  The lights are dimmed.  Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” plays on the speakers and is interrupted only when the power grid goes down and the place turns black.  No one seems to care. 

Looks sanitary to me.  Hard to believe I got sick, huh?

Not sure what to make of the crowd in this town.  There are some serious yogis here.  There are also a lot of dirtbag travelers that look like they’ve been on the road for years.  This restaurant is a good representation.  Next to me is a French pair discussing the satsang from earlier in the day.  On my other side are some sketched out guys with bloodshot eyes and British accents.  Across the way are a table of Kundalini yogis wearing their white on white garb and turbans. 

The Ganges River is about a million times cleaner here than down in Allahabad. 

This is without a doubt a unique time and space in my life.  Its only fitting that I spend a few days of it in a place as unique as this.