Panchakarma Days 2, 3 and 4

This is probably not going to be a daily blog, as I have been SOOOO tired the last few days.  The karma in the pan is really getting to me.

Thus far, it has remained as interesting an experience as I could have hoped it to have been.  I've had the usual ups and downs of working to an Indian schedule, but not as many downs as one would have expected from a cleansing perspective (if you get what I mean?).

Where was I last?  Oh yeah, 1st day of the ghee.  I arrived on Sunday to take my second dose out of four.  Luckily the manager was there, and he was able to explain that unfortunately, the amount would increase every day.  I was now up to 35ml.  That was ok.  I could deal with that.  My sister had asked what it tasted like, so my aim of the day was to actually analyse the taste.

The ghee tastes like oily goat, that's all I can say.  If I didn't have water and gum to clean my mouth after the down in one, the milk that I had to take also tasted like this.  Well, not quite, it tasted like warm, oily, goats milk. Bleurgh.  I also found out the reason for the lemon: it wasn't an offering to the god of Panchakarma, whomever that might be! It was a sensational distraction to stop my body from rejecting said oily goat.  I must say, it does work.

On Monday, I arrived to no manager, and no aryuvedic Dr, as had been scheduled.  The new receptionist placed that days ghee in front of me.  The glass seemed somewhat less full than the previous day.  I couldn't believe the words coming out of my mouth:

"There's not enough ghee in that glass"

The receptionist looked confused.  He didn't say anything.  Not even a head shake which told me I was correct.

"How much is there?  How many ml?"

"Madam, please wait for the DR"

And with that he whisked up the tray delights and disappeared out of the office.  

I waited, and waited, and waited.  I heard people speaking anxiously on the phone.  Of course being linguistically challenged, I could not understand the full conversation, but the words:

'Ghee, DR, clinic, 500 rupees, Ghee (again), still here, Kerala shop, Ghee, 500 rupees'

led me to ascertain that they had in actual fact run out of ghee and had tried to palm me off with the dregs of the bottle. Pft.  Not happy.  I stuck my head around the office door:

"Where's the DR?  I've been waiting here 40 minutes."

By this point it was 11am.  I still hadn't eaten anything that day.  

I was distracted by a young woman wafting through the door.  I thought perhaps she was a client or a manager.  She was tall, lithe, young and GORGEOUS.  She was also the DR.  This was NOT what I had been expecting.  I was waiting for a serious, old, bespectacled, and wizened man with knowledge beyond normal human comprehension (and perhaps some interesting facial hair).  Not this.

I was called into her office.  We went over diet, what to expect from the programme.  She weighed me, and then presented me with my ghee (45ml) - she also giggled a lot.

The whole clinic came to witness the ghee drinking  - 2 receptionists, 3 masseurs, a hairdresser, the DR and the cleaner.  They all chortled as I gagged.  They all wished me well as I went out the door. This was to be repeated the next day (60ml). 

But what is it actually like?  The drinking part is over very quickly, the after effects last for several more hours -  vomit-inducing oily goat burps, and the feeling of the oil lying on top of my stomach - you know like after you've made a meat stock, but before you skim the fat?  I'm so glad that this part of it is over.  I'm sure you can believe it.  I have, however, lost 2 kg or just under 5 pounds - so it's all been worth it.  I haven't even finished my first week yet!

Coming Up..... The one where Jenine gets basted and pressure cooked.

NOTE:

After writing my last blog I felt pretty pleased with how I had summed up the situation, but something was bothering me about it.  I couldn't quite put my finger on it.  Then it came to me.  Funny as the situation was, I felt that how I portrayed the receptionist was wrong.  I've been living this life for 17 years now, and the one thing I have learned through out all the countries that I have lived in is that just because people are different - culturally, ethnically, religiously, linguistically - it doesn't make them wrong or stupid.  And it doesn't make me RIGHT because I see these differences.   I also want to note,  (I'll expand on this in future blogs) that I think Indians ROCK!  I hold my hands up.  I'm prejudiced.  Of those Indians I know and have met - from very poor and ill educated, right through to extremely wealthy with 3 million university certificates under their belts, I have never been treated with anything other than kindness and respect.  Something that is so ubiquitous here in India, is very hard to find anywhere else.  So when they all crowded round to watch me in my pain (through morbid fascination as is the thang here) - I thought, 'You know what?  I deserve this!' 

Guh! Day One Panchakarma

So there I was, up at the crack of dawn, and off down to the spa in anticipation of my first day of ghee detox.  It was shut (Indian time obviously 8am is 9 to 9:30 for them), so I decided to go and buy a diet coke seeing as I hadn't officially started my detox.  Mmmm fizzy, cold diet coke at 8:30 in the morning (on an empty stomach)!

Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long.  The young man at the reception desk asked me to be seated and disappeared into another room.   I thought, 'Ooh, they're just setting up the massage room.  I'll have a nice oily massage and that'll even out the nasty ghee.'  Except there was no massage.  He came back with a tray.  On it was a cup and saucer (ghee), a warm glass of milk, and a lemon.

"Drink!"

"Is this the ghee?"

"Yes, madam."

"Drink it all?"

"Yes, madam"

"Then massage?"

"No, madam.  Three days ghee, then massage."

"Oh, OK."

With some disappointment, I downed it in one, gulp, BOAK!  Boak again.  Another boak.  Oh good god, it was as bad as I had expected.

The receptionist seemed surprised that I had elicited such a reaction.

'Madam, drink the milk'

I took a look at the warm milk and almost vomited again:  I remembered that once when I was in my teens and was having difficulty sleeping, that I had drunk warmed milk to try to help me get back to sleep.  It had been disgusting.  This time though, it was actually soothing, although it didn't take away the greasiness in my mouth.

"Can I have some water?"

Off he went. I had a sip of water and felt much better.  I looked at the lemon still sitting on the tray next to the remnants of the ghee, and the half drunk milk.

"Take the lemon, madam"

"What should I do with it?"

"Take it with you, madam"

"Should I do anything with it?"

"Take it with you, madam"

Oh ok.  I put it in my bag.

"Should I eat anything today?"

"No pizzas, fries or hamburgers.  Eat chapati at dinner time. Limit, madam, limit."

"Right, when will I see the DR?"

"After 3rd ghee, madam.  We will call her."

"Any special instructions?"

"Limit madam, limit."

"Ok, so see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, madam."

"Should I pay you?"  I haven't yet paid for the programme (maybe a good thing?).  He looked confused.  So I took my lemon and left.

Later on the family and I were driving into town.  I thought I would gain some insight from our driver, who's very own mother had had her broken arm fixed by an aryuvedic doctor.

"I'm doing panchakarma!"

"What's that, Jenine?"

"It's aryuvedic detox for the body, it helps you lose weight."

"Never heard of it."

"No?  I drink ghee every day and get a massage."

A confused look....

"But ghee makes you fat..."

Right then.

I've spent the day suppressing the memory of the ghee, and throwing off thoughts about tomorrow morning.  I have some hope though!  My horoscope in todays Bangalore Mirror:

'A karmic cycle of acquiring or selling immovable assets begins.'

You couldn't make it up.

New year, new me....

My journey thus far in India has been an interesting one.  As a family we've done a lot of travel, but not nearly as much as we would have liked.  India is a great place for travel, but when you have young children you really have to take care and more importantly take it slowly.  India is too in-your-face, with too many long car and train journeys to get from point A to point B to C to D and onwards.  When I moved here, I really wanted to share these journeys and have done so through my IOS photos on Facebook.  I am sure there are many people who have felt that my FB posts have been as much to do with boasting as they are to do with the travel, but the sheer excitement of the places we have visited and the fact that my 2 little ones always seem to embrace what we put under their little feet fills me with pride and makes me want to share what so many people have asked.

I can't believe 2015 has arrived; that 2 years have passed already; that we are most probably entering our final year here.  There were so many things that I wanted to do in India, and I suppose the emotional growth that I have waited most of my life for has AT LAST started to happen.  Mentally, I feel so much more on top of things than I have ever done, but there are still more things that I want to happen on a physiological level that I have decided to look into.  I have a year.  January 2016 will mark my 40th birthday (me? 40?), and I want to reach this age in the best condition that I can muster. If there is anywhere I can do it, it will be here!

Tomorrow I start Panchakarma, an aryuvedic detoxification, which has brought me back to this blog.  It lasts for 30 days, and I am unsure of the ins and outs (yeah, still throwing myself blindly into perilous situations).  What I do know is that I will have to drink warmed ghee (an indian oil) for most of the 30 days, and I will also have to have daily massages at stupid o'clock.  My initial idea was to go to a retreat, but logistically, it's not really possible given the fact that I have young 'uns.  So I have found a place nearby (I can walk), that I can get to for the treatment.  I hope that I'll be able to blog about the experience, because I do think that people will find it interesting, and I am SURE that given this is India, there will be some amusing insights to keep you entertained with.

So with some trepidation. I'm off for an early night, to get up at stupid o'clock, to go to some random spa, to drink warm ghee.  Will report in tomorrow!

Inside out.

So, it's been a while, and lots of people have been asking me about the blog.

This being our fourth move, there's definitely a chain of events which detail your emotional adaption to the situation.  All the inspirations/aspirations, and dreams and euphoric highs of actually moving to India went out the window, and I got fed up.  Fed up that I didn't have my desktop; that I couldn't write more than half a page on my iPad, and especially fed up with just being stuck out in the 'Burbs on my own night after night.  Then I went home for a holiday.  Now I'm back, and not so fed up.

India is cheap. FACT.  People talk about the US as a place where anything is achievable.  You guys should come to India.  You can do anything here.  Did I mention it was cheap?  When I first arrived, my mind went into overdrive - I wanted to take up driving lessons, learn how to become a Pilates instructor, do yoga, get a personal trainer, get a yogi, join a book club, learn how to play the Indian drums, take tennis lessons, have a massage once a week, volunteer at the women's club, stop smoking, stop drinking, lose weight, become a cook extraordinaire and so on and so on. It was all too much for me.  I went the opposite way, and for the first couple of months, I did NOTHING, nada.  I sat on my bum in front of VERY bad TV, and drank wine.  Then I went home for a break.

On coming back at the end of the summer, I have realised that I was putting too much pressure on myself.  It's easy after all this time moving from city to city, country to country, to think,

'PAH!  This is a cinch!  I'm a professional.  I can do this.  I've moved so many times, the change wont affect me, I don't need to try to make friends.  Who needs friends?  It's not going to be tough for me.  Look at me, I've lived in FIVE countries including this one.  I know it ALL!  I AM the BIG I AM.'

Except, I'm not.  I'm me.  My problems, insecurities and everything else that I carry with me don't just disappear because I've moved.  Nor does the fact that I think that I'm good at changing countries make me really actually any good at it.  [Reference: Relocation Agent number 3]

I've realised that instead of overloading myself with ways to improve my outward appearance, and to fill my time that I actually need to step back.  I need to STOP.  I need to use this time to look at what's going on on the inside, because to be honest, I've never really done that.  I've just buried it and used wine other things  to keep it deep inside.  Well people, I'm on a path.  The buck is stopping here.   I'm working on the inside first.  Let's just see what's going to happen to the outside.

This doesn't mean that this blog is going to be anything to do with any sort of spiritual awakening, 'cos it's not.  It's all to do with my life in India and where that takes me.  I just might slip some stuff in about breathing every now and then.  Oh, and there's lots of travel and interesting events planned over the next few months too, so watch this space.

Next blog - happy, happy reconvenes.

PS I'm still going to the book group, and I still intend on learning how to drive.

Toxic poisoning, the first people, and door bell ringing spiders.

Hi,

So today wasn't anything special. For my sins, I managed to poison myself with a heavy duty mosquito killer last night. I was feeling decidedly wobbly this morning. The problem is our outdoor porch in the garden. It's like the Mosquito Coast out there. Every night, we are fumigated, which means that these little malarial delights are finding shelter in the eaves of our patio. We haven't protected against malaria, and I'm particularly concerned about the wee ones (my children, that is). Cue half a can of said mosquito killer to try and prevent them from hanging out there each and every night. Cough. Despite my wobbles, it has actually worked! A lot less mossies! Well, maybe that is just because of the mosquito coil that I have decided to burn as well...

Anyway, I've got a housekeeper figured out and have hired the delightful Marie: a Catholic Indian who jingle jangles her way around the house. Literally with rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes (ankles) she does make music wherever she goes. For the record, on sniffing new blood, she came to my door four days on the trot looking for a job. I didn't really stand a chance. Anyway, she's been invited in, with the money she wanted, and the hours she wanted. She's got my current gardener sacked and made way for her pal to join next Monday. She's got rid of ALL the fancy schmancy cleaning utensils I have bought to make way for her Indian ones - Vileda pah! Every day she wears a deliciously coloured sari, and eats her lunch with her fingers at the bottom of my staircase. I love it! After 15 years of expatriate services (all referenced, can I add), she's come in and sorted me right out - thank you Marie.


Too bad Marie had gone when I found the biggest spider by the front door. I wasn't sure how to handle it - for all I knew it could have been poisonous! In the end, in the interest of hygiene I thought the best way forward was to sweep it out the front door. Now, of course, I am paranoid about the mossies, so I rushed the door open and started to sweep but it crawled up the brush. I managed to kick it off into the garden and slam the front door, all the while screaming. Literally ten seconds later, the door bell rang. Both me and the kids thought it might just have been the monster spider ringing to get back in! A few more grey hairs. Tick. I would like to just say to my dear husband that I forgive him for bringing me here.


Here is our new house:

So here I am - from a big huge crane, to a banana tree!

So, this is my umpteenth attempt at blogging, however, at this point in my life, I feel it more essential that I do something like this than any time before. For those of you whom know me, my family and I have been living one amazing adventure for the last 14.5 years. Having lived in London, Singapore, Moscow, Kazakhstan, and now here in India, I really feel that I should start marking my time in some way. It's not just that really; my husband, in this new posting, works really crappy hours - 2pm until 11.00pm Monday to FRIDAY! This means that I am home alone from around 7.30 when I put my kids to bed. I want to put this time to good use, and this is one way in which I plan to do it.Each of the different cities we have lived in has marked decidedly different aspects of my life and personal development. I've been thinking a lot about this. It's taken me a long time to develop, and i still don't think I am there yet. I'm hoping that living here in India will help me to move to my next stage.I'm at a point now where I feel the need to grow. I have for my whole adult life following my boyfriend who then became my husband around the world. I'm now 37. I've not worked for 8 years. A stay at home wife (briefly), and then for the last 6.5 years, a stay at home mother. Now, I can't really complain, because I've travelled the world. I've lived and experienced different cultures. I've seen all types of places - beautiful, and peaceful to dirty and threatening - and for almost half of that, so have our two children. Through out this, I've had to learn to adapt, to get used to the culture, the language, the ways of the people, and their weather. But that I think is a problem. I've followed, I've adapted, I've done all I can to make my surroundings a success, but where is me? Where is my sense of self in all of this? I'm a wife, a mother, an adapter, but who am I when I am not fulfilling these other roles? That's what I intend to find out during my three or so years here in India.For the moment, life is interesting in itself as I settle my family into our new home. My youngest, who is 3.5 has yet to start pre school, so don't expect too much from me until this happens, please.In the meantime, an explanation - why Cranes to Palms? Well, we have a flat in our hometown in Glasgow, and when I look out of the window, I have a view of the most enormous crane (a remnant of shipbuilding days gone past). Here, as I sit typing, I see the leaves of one of the palms from our banana tree in our back garden. Hence the name Cranes to Palms.Hope you enjoy my experiences here, and how they help me to grow!