So, You Want to be a Yoga Instructor

Rishkul Yogasala

Leading up to Nepal I was questioning if I was going to be physically able to do this yoga training for a month. I have never done anything like this. I have never been able to meditate for more than roughly 3 minutes (give or take 2 minutes) and I am relatively new to yoga. Also, I am carrying a bit of a spare tire and fully loaded saddle bags (currently with feta cheese and yogurt) and am concerned that they will hinder my ability to bend forward, left or right. I also have not been working out, unless you call walking to and from the gelato stand a work out, personally I do. I could just stay in the Greek Islands and continue this delicious life of sleeping in, napping, eating, drinking…

Alas, I got on a bus, got on a plane from Crete to Athens, got on another plane from Athens to Doha, got on yet another plane from Doha to Kathmandu. Doha is the most unique area I have ever seen out of a plane window at night. There is something very beautiful about the lighting, but something so artificial, sterile but mesmerizing. The Doha airport is set up so that the planes park out a ways and you have to get transported by bus, so the 20 seconds I spent outside in 95-degree heat (at 1:00 in the morning) instantly tagged Qatar as a place I am happy to explore from the window of an airplane. We were served two dinners: one after leaving Athens (chicken and rice) at about 9:00pm and the same dish, different plane, but at 6:00 in the morning. I slept through it. You heard it here folks: Sheryl Lyn Schultz slept through a free meal!

Flying into Kathmandu I could feel myself becoming a bit tense, my breathing became shallow...I was afraid. I realized that I was already starting to feel overwhelmed. This was no longer Europe, this was third world. The airport is quite small, run down but unthreatening. There is a calmness, hinging on laziness here. I was second in line to purchase a visa and remembered all my cash was in my checked bag. No worries, they accept credit card. The credit card machine was not working, nor was the ATM. I’m not panicked, I’m a bit annoyed and inwardly berating myself for making a rookie move. So, my visa obtaining experience is as follows: the money exchanger tells me to go to an office with a plaque that reads Immigration Guard, I stand slightly behind and to the left of two Nepalese men sitting and talking with the guard (who also lives in his office, with possibly two others, if the beds next to his desk were a clue to anything) who wrote me out a receipt, took my passport and said “come back tomorrow with the cash and we’ll give you back your passport”, to that I said “No, I have cash in my bag downstairs, I will get it and come right back”, he says “ok” go to the passport control and show him the receipt. To make a long story short I ran downstairs, got my bag and the $100 cash, ran back upstairs, flashed my receipt thing to the guard who let me in and everything was solved, after a few more time consuming steps. Walking out the airport doors I was reminded that I am no longer in a first world country. I have in fact been spoiled beyond belief these past three months, and I yearned to run back to that comfort...and baklava. I had arranged for a driver from the hotel ($17.20 per night, including breakfast and airport pick up) and smiled when I saw a sign with my name on it. Kathmandu is dirty. It is busy, chaotic and all of my senses were overloaded. I found myself wanting to check in to the hotel, eat my sesame crackers for lunch, dinner, and breakfast and get on the next morning’s flight to Pokhara. But as we turned down the tourist shopping streets known as Thamel (right around the corner from my hotel) I saw a number of white people, a lot of white women, and it gave me the courage I needed to hit the streets.

Jason is my tour guide. I tend to pick the must sees, do’s and eats and he maps it out and gets us there and home. I just shut my brain off and follow. Alone, I travel differently. I travel by intuitive braille. I head out the front door, bump in to stuff, see shiny things and go look at them, find local restaurants serving traditional cuisine and constantly remind myself to walk tall and confident. This was my mantra while I was in Kathmandu. I was so overwhelmed with the condition of the buildings, the streets and the air that I just felt heavy, depressed and small. A freshly squeezed mixed fruit juice helped me see the beauty of the Napalese people. As I went back out to the street, a man speaking very good English, pointed to my earrings and asked if I was a Kiwi (I have and wear one pair of earrings, made by the ever talented Emily Eppinger, of Jaybird Jewelry). Anyway, he went on to tell me that he is married to an American and has been all over the states, and wouldn’t you goddamn well know it, that 3 minutes later I was sitting in his jewelry shop. I kept saying I don’t wear jewelry, nobody I know wears jewelry, seriously dude I’m not buying anything. Then out come the antique pieces, “this piece (the one I chose to be the most lovely, it actually was not lovely but I wanted to make him feel better about himself) is $300-400, what would you pay for it”, “I told you, I’m not buying anything”, “no really, just name me a price, I’ll probably say yes”, “$10”, “okay”, “but I’m not buying it, even for $10”… “will you be going to Australia during your travels?”, “Yes”, “I’ll give you $10k to bring some of my jewelry there,” me (sideways glance that says, do you think I am a fucking idiot?) “no”…exit stage left.

I lost my appetite somewhere along the flight here, but did put down a plate of veggie fried rice, slept, had my included breakfast and headed back to the airport for a quick flight to Pokhara. Getting to know my adorable seat mate, he informs me that he is a Gurkha soldier, stationed in England and that he has been to Afghanistan and other such war torn countries. I have no idea what a Gurkha soldier is, but he explains quite thoroughly the honor and privileges that come with being one of the select few. He tells me to go to The Busy Bee Cafe for nightly live music, that he'll be there later and that Lakeside is a happening place. He's adorable and I'm very near the age that it's acceptable for me to say so, whenever I want, and to have people just think, "what a cute, old lady." I don't say anything and leave wondering if he was inviting me to The Busy Bee or just informing me of a hip spot, since I'm totally hip.

View of Himalaya from Hotel Tulsi

I check in to Hotel Tulsi, one day before the course opening ceremony. My room is large, with two sides of windows, overlooking the front garden and the yoga hall. I quickly spread out, move in and make myself at home. Unpacking is something I have not yet done along this journey, and it feels good to put things on shelves. I quickly meet another student, Melanie, from San Francisco and awkwardly stare into her soul as she tells me a brief history of herself, her family, her career. I head out for the last meal I will need to pay for, for the next month, and pair it with a nice, cold Coke...my last soda, also for the next month. I have decided to use this month not only to eat vegetarian, but to follow recommendations of the school to also stop all processed foods and alcohol. I will eat dairy sparingly and limit my sugar.

Yoga

Students trickle in from all parts of the world joining together for a fire ceremony in the front garden of the Hotel Tulsi. I'm grateful that there is no LuLu Lemon, makeup, facelifts, or botox. Not that there's anything wrong with these things but I had a fear that this school would bring in people who do yoga to be seen, to have perfect poses, perfect outfits and perfect bodies. Personally I do yoga with one goal in mind, not to fart in class. The ceremony begins with an explanation of each step with the goal being to release our ego's, our expectations, our competitive nature, our judgments, and attachments. The fire, chanting and singing assist in protecting us from injury and illness throughout the course. We are given a string bracelet on our right wrists to further promote health. I feel my best self replace my regular self and I am ready for tomorrow. Later, in the lobby, I hear one the instructors mentioning that week three we will be sick with a cold, diarrhea or both...guaranteed or our money back.

Opening ceremony

Day 1

6-7:30am: Hatha Yoga

What a lovely way to start the morning and a yoga teacher training program, some gentle, relaxing yoga. After our lovely 5:30am tea I’m excited to get on the mat and see what this is all about. We start with the toes and repeat the same movement until I can no longer feel them, repeating these singular movements up the legs, through the torso and all the way to my fingertips, we work them until I am shaking and the sweat is dropping from my body. I watch it drop onto my mat and listen to the noise it makes as it hits, trying to focus on anything but this sheer screaming throughout my entire body. I think I skipped that page in the book that said holding various plank poses lasting a total of an hour is considered yoga. I listen to the struggled breaths, the moans and groans around me and am proud that I’m not the only one…we are all being pushed beyond belief and this is not going to be as easy as I thought. I’m glad we got that out of the way first thing this morning.

Just to give you the basic rundown of my schedule for the next month:

5:30-6:00am Tea

6-7:30am Hatha Yoga

7:30-7:45 Tea

7:45-8:45 Pranayama (breathe work)

8:45-10:30am Breakfast / rest

10:30-11:30am Philosophy of Yoga

12-1:00pm Mantra yoga (topics at this time will change weekly to include yoga nidra, alignment, etc.)

12:45-3:00pm Lunch / rest

3:00-4:00pm Anatomy

4:00- 4:15 Tea

4:15-5:45 Ashtanga Yoga

5:45-6:00 Tea

6:00-7:00pm Meditation

7:00-8:00 Dinner

10:00 Lights out, if you can make it this late

4:15-5:45: Ashtanga

Ashtanga basically means a series of ridiculously hard postures that take two hours to complete. I gaze at the ashtanga asana (pose) chart they provided and think to myself, there is no way in hell they can expect us to do half this stuff. Time will tell. In the meantime, sweat pours from my body, soaking my mat and I'm sure the carpet under it. I shake with weakness and think of my happy place.

6-7pm: Meditation, oh to be silent and still. When I wasn’t focused on the fire burning in my mid-back, or my legs going numb, the sounds in my head went a little like this: I can totally do this, sitting cross legged is nice, these two pillows I got are nice, although maybe I should have shared one, well they really aren’t thick pillows and I probably need two, or three, she has a nice voice, “relax your eyebrows”, what? Oh, wait, yes, she’s talking to me, how can she see me, it’s dark in here and shouldn’t her eyes be closed, she’s so wise, she’s from India you know. Damn, my back is on fire, how am I going to possibly do 55 more minutes of this, at least my legs aren’t numb, breathe in through the belly and breath out through the belly. I feel bloated, and is this what heart burn feels like? I wonder if I could be excused due to heart burn, oh man it hurts in my chest and back, (burp) I’m so happy I burp relatively silently. Don’t slouch. Breathe in through the belly, breathe out through the belly. Pizza sounds delicious. I shouldn’t have taken a nap after lunch, that’s probably the reason for this horrendous heartburn, or chest gas, what is this? I should ask one of the instructors, they’ll probably tell me to stop eating the naan and yogurt, nevermind, I’m going to meditate my pain away and continue burping silently, they shouldn’t be listening to my burping anyway, they’re meditating. That girl has a really nice ass. I should tell her, it’s a nice compliment. She may think I have a crush on her, so I’ll keep it to myself, maybe tell her on the last day. Pizza really does sound good. Damn my legs hurt (opening my eyes ever so slightly), sweet Ganesh!, the girls next to me straightened their legs! Cheaters. I’m going to do it to. Oh, the burn in my back, it’s like spinal fluid is leaking and burning my muscles, does spinal fluid actually burn things, like acid? Oh, shit, (making eye contact with the instructor) fold your damn legs Sheryl (I smile, she smiles) she’s so cute and petite, and pretty, I wonder what the dot between her eyes means, what are those things called? I need to find that store that sells those cute shoulder bags and helps support local women. If I buy those super cute pants, I’ll definitely negotiate down to $7 but they’re kinda fancy, they can be my dinner pants. A shower will feel nice. I should blog this. I don’t know if I can eat any more rice.

AND done! I completed an entire day and feel invigorated. I cannot express how good it feels to accomplish something I thought I could never do. I am beaming as we walk up the stairs to dinner, where I did not eat rice.

Day 2: (parental warning, this may contain language not suitable for children)

I awake ready and looking forward to the challenges of the day. I also remember that I had intensely vivid dreams of horrific things. For instance one dream went like this: I’m driving in a car with my mom and sisters and there is a local known ancient alligator that is huge and likes to jump out from behind the mailbox, but this day the alligator was running and jumping from roof to roof and I just knew it was going to jump on our car, sure enough, as soon as we closed the sunroof it launched from the roof and splattered itself on the passenger side window. At morning tea, several others are making comments of having intense dreams as well.

6:00-7:30 Hatha Yoga class begins at the toes, with repititions, not as many as yesterday. I am drenched in sweat within the first 7 minutes, I take my shirt off and feel liberated. The sweat scurries down my entire body, into my eyeballs, ears and mouth for the next hour. It tastes acidic. I am feeling stronger today and the movements aren’t as painful as yesterday.

4:15-5:45pm Ashtanga Yoga and I get adjusted in downdog with such gentle force that my heels lay flat to the ground and stay there after he releases the pressure on my lower back. It feels amazing and is a milestone I did not expect until way later in the course. I wonder if it is culturally acceptable to high-five or hug. I’m gonna fucking rock this course.

6-7pm Meditation: my turn to chant my solo and I’m not too scared, we each have two solos today, I do both without hesitation, but without total comfort.

End of Day 2 and I am feeling energetic, pushed beyond belief but confident that I can do this, that I am not in over my head. I am surrounded by very interesting, intelligent people and have great lunch and dinner conversations. I’m not hanging out at other times because I’m napping…including through our 15 minute tea breaks.

Laughing yoga (Day 14ish)

Day 3:

I’m totally in over my head. The drill sergeant hammers us with leg lift repititions to the point that I really can’t feel the bottom half of my body. I am unable to do most of the first half of the class because my body just doesn’t move that way, but still I do my best at making it look like I give a shit. If I wanted to be a Navy Seal I would have enlisted, I fucking paid you people, so just let me spend the morning in shivasana (dead mans pose…you lay, as if dead on the floor…aka my favorite pose today).

I miss home. This is hard, really fucking hard. The afternoon yoga class I feel like puking. As the instructor walks nearer to me I telepathically tell him to shove it up his ass, I do not make eye contact. He is not my friend, he is here to tortchure me. That guy had the freakin nerve to give us homework, on our day off! We have to memorize shit here and get tested on it, verbally in front of everyone. True fact about me: I may know the answer but as soon as I am called on and the attention of the room is on me, my mind goes totally blank. I am terrified for Monday.

12:00-1:00: Good news: this is the last day we have to chant. Today’s chant is the longest and most difficult and again the panic begins to arise, I just don’t understand the words, I can’t pronounce them, I will never chant them again, this is useless, like algebra. The chant is so long that we sing with a partner rather than alone, which is kinda good and kinda bad because my partner is one of the best chanters in the group, she has a beautiful voice. About halfway round the circle she touches my leg and asks if I’m okay (remember, everyone witnessed my sheer terror and panic just two days ago) and I shake my head no, with a smile and inwardly I want to cry. I am just so uncomfortable with this. I focus on my breathing…oh, wait, I’m not breathing. I tell myself to breath and concentrate on that and the fact that this is the last one I will have to do. I didn’t nail it, but I did it.

At lunch someone mentioned a Snickers bar. I am craving a chocolate bar or a tube of processed cookies, washed down by a nice real sugar coke. So lame we don’t get dessert or juice with lunch. I had seconds of desert at dinner (yogurt with fresh fruit), so much for no dairy, this is the only dessert option and I'll be damned if I skip out on dessert.

Today is my sister Michal’s birthday and I was so excited to call her after dinner. The call connected, I heard her voice, we exchanged several excited sentences and then she couldn’t hear me. I just started sobbing. This training is working me to my core. I felt terribly alone when I hung up the phone. Tomorrow is a “vacation” day. I’m so tired I may sleep through it.

Day 4 (vacation day): We learned the proper technique of using a neti pot, blowing snot all over the beautifully manicured front garden. We also shoved a small plastic rope thing through a nostril, poking through until in came into our throat where we were to grab it with out fingers, try not to puke, and pull it through. I got it through my nose, poking through two painful spots, and felt it in the back of my throat, but couldn't grab it. I did one nostril and called it a morning. Today I woke up with headache but this went away after a cup, or two, of instant coffee at breakfast, I've decided I need treats and will have a cup of instant coffee with milk on our days off, Wednesdays and Sundays. Two other women and I decide to walk through town to look at shops etc. today and I tell them that I cried last night. One other woman, whose been doing yoga for 25 years, states she also cried last night. I decide to accept this as part of the process, that I am detoxing and to appreciate it. Narit, from Monterey, and I decide to eat out and I taste my first momo’s. I am feeling revived and ready for what tomorrow holds.

Day 6: I launched into chataranga from crow pose!

Day 7:

I touched the ground in side angle pose!

If the meditation instructor could be in my mind during meditation class, I’d fail. Tonight I found myself in high school, kissing boys. I remembered details as if it were yesterday that I was having these sloppy sessions. What was that? Breathe in at the base of the spine to the third eye? But he was just sliding in to second base! Om.

Day 26: Teaching A One Hour Class:

Jason tells me that our friend Shanti posted on Facebook that she would love to have me on staff for her Life Ingredients project in Truckee / Tahoe, if she has funding for such a position, and I got to thinking...I should create a class for school kids! This excited me and I started planning for my one hour class. During one of our tea breaks, I see Jason running up the steps and meet him at the door to the yoga room, he excitedly tells me about yoga duck, duck goose and a downward dog tunnel. Brilliant! I scribble out most of what I had and put these in. After a couple of practice runs, by myself in the sitting area just outside our room, and several adjustments, I wake up ready and excited to teach my first class. I open by telling my class, of 8 students, that they were invited to awaken their inner child and that we would spend the next hour learning yoga poses, playing games and laughing, when appropriate. One hour and fifteen minutes later I receive the most positive and supportive feedback from my fellow classmates and instructor. I feel my confidence grow and if I'm totally honest, my ego too (not all of it burned in the fire ceremony).

Graduation!:

The day begins, as usual, 5:30 tea and 6:00 hatha. It’s the last day and Pankaj (lovingly referred to as "drill sergeant" earlier in this post) is not here so I’m sure we’ll gently sit in poses for several minutes, relaxing and thinking over all the progress we’ve made; how we’ve grown as individuals and how we will go out and spread peace and love. Five minutes into the morning stretches I am reminded of that first morning…this is a repeat. I am physically stronger but my body is stiffer, my muscles and joints revolt and I struggle to touch my toes in a forward bend. I’ve digressed. My hips feel as though they will pop out of their sockets. I’m feeling scared that after all this effort, time and money I am leaving worse than when I arrived. I’ll ask around later to see if anyone else feels as if their body has aged 50 years, and if this is a good sign?

After several hours of philosophy and adjustment reviews it’s time to relax and I contemplate taking a shower before the closing ceremony. I don’t shower, but I do put on a clean dress, rather than my preferred local hippie garb. We sit in a circle, all facing our teachers, dressed in white. We are informed that in order to graduate we must pass one last test: to sing, dance, display something we are good at in front of the group. If this were a Disney movie this would be the scene where the terrified, tone deaf and terrible chanter of three ago would stand tall and belt out, harmoniously, fearlessly and beautifully (both the girl and the sound) a Sanskrit mantra. But this is reality and so I stood up, slouched my shoulders, stuck out my belly, curled my upper lip and walked the inner circle making creepy faces to my classmates and instructors. Laughter. Mission accomplished.

As we chant our last Om, Shanthi, Shanthi, Shanthi’s I am overjoyed with what we did here, what I did here. I feel different. I feel an inner peace, patience and harmony that I have only had glimpses of before. When I experienced these glimpses before, moments of clarity and bliss, I've tried to capture them, cling to them, recreate them. Our philosophy instructor, Gangesh, challenged us to talk to our mind and ask it to do specific things, like act as our morning alarm. The last few nights of the course I decide to try this out and ask my mind to wake me up at 5:28a.m. (I do set my usual alarm for 5:30, just in case). I wake up at 5:27a.m., ready to go. I do the same the following night, and it worked again. The key is to let go of all expectation, judgment and worry when we ask our mind to do things for us. We ask and then let it go.

I learned so much throughout this course. I met incredible people that I hope to remain in contact with throughout my life. Most importantly I learned that yoga will continue to challenge me mentally, physically and spiritually for the rest of my life. I learned that if you eat lots of rice and soup soaked in butter, that you can gain weight at a yoga training program. I learned that I can meditate, for roughly 10 minutes before my mind totally goes off track and my left foot starts going numb. Gladys, a woman in the course, had set a challenge for her and I on our last meditation to sit crosslegged the entire hour, moving as little as possible. At the end of the hour, we opened our eyes and she was beaming, we did it! I moved very little, but with blocks, pillows and determination I was able to keep my legs crossed! This is a huge milestone and was celebrated with a big hug from Gladys. I learned that laughing yoga is freaking awesome, and it's possible to completely loose your voice from it. I learned that I like being quiet. I was reminded that I need to continue to challenge myself. I need to continue setting goals that I think are impossible to accomplish and then go and do it.

Namaste.