Yoga Gives Back.. It is the time of year when my mailbox is filled with organizations asked for donations. I have a few causes, across a very diverse spectrum, that I donate to regularly. And this year I am supporting Yoga Gives Back “YGB”. Many women and children in India live under dire conditions. YGB meets the needs of 1400 women and children in Southern India and West Bengal. The Covid lockdown and recent Cyclone has left many homeless. I will be teaching alongside a group of excellent yoga teachers and ambassadors of peace. PLEASE consider donating join me at Yoga Gives Back’s FIRST GLOBAL GALA (Nov 21-22) to give back to Mother India!
Check out an unparalleled abundance of 50 yoga, mindfulness, and fun cultural sessions, donated by YGB’s generous global Ambassadors and supporters.
Why? I have traveled to India over twenty times. Mostly to study with the Iyengar family, but also to experience the wonders, smells, tastes, sights, and tragedies of such a rich country. The first few trips, in the 1980s, were the most difficult, of course. The poverty is overwhelming. I can’t say that I ever grew accustomed to it; only that I grew to acknowledge how much we take for granted in this country, America. The first time I was surrounded by street kids I was abhorred and drew my skirts in close. Once, I was flanked inside a rickshaw. I had just returned from the dentist office (top notch, at more then half the cost) and was wearing a partial across my two front teeth, in preparation for a bridge. As the youngsters grabbed at me, I removed the partial, to reveal what looked like two fangs. Screams and screams as the kids scattered. I carry such privilege.
In recent years, now that Pune has transitioned into a near first-world economy, I rent a car and driver to shuttle me around the city. I have done more then gather my skirts, I shield myself. When we stop at an intersection or for a red light, the car is quickly flanked by peddlers with bobble heads, fly swatters, pin wheels, sponges, and oily sweets. Generally young girls or boys race between the cars until the light changes. Often barefoot and missing teeth, their big eyes beckon. Oh dear! I have to turn away. Well, actually, I did buy a two little bobble headed dogs. They now ride in my posh car; I named them Rhythm and Rhyme. Wish I could have taken every little girl.