Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Yoga tourism - am I being duped?

So you might think, if you were Indian, what the big fuss is all about with this yoga tourism? Why are there no Indians here, doing a lot of astanga? It's a western thing now, eh?  A bit like aboriginal art in Australia is a 'white person' thing. No aboriginal person I know hangs fancy dot paintings worth thousands on their walls. Only rich white people do that. Perhaps it's because aboriginal people have their culture,  their stories, they don't need to look at an image to marvel at it.

I'm not suggesting Indians nor aboriginal people are selling their culture like selling out. But there is no doubt this experience has a price tag.   Mysore is on the map because of the heritage of yoga here, particularly astanga-style with vinyasa. And local businesses are springing up, and new apartments being built here, and there is a lot of local wealth here, but local people are a bit baffled about what all these young, white people are doing here in the neighbourhood?




Neighbourhood of Gokulum in monsoon

Where are you from? Older couples stop to ask me in the street on their morning walks at 8am practising their very good English. Nanna hesru Susan, nanna desha Australia, I reply faltering in Kannada, the state language. Yoga? they ask  Yes, I reply. Hmmm. They think about this. Where is it? Pattabi Jois, with Saraswati, I say. Oh, she start already? They are so curious to hear this. It is a tourism phenomenon, supporting a lot of local people in a very nice way. Personally I don't have a problem with any of it, I prefer to support small local business people offering a service, than beggars and like seeing the enterprising nature of the men and women around this emerging yoga tourism industry. They are really smart and good on them.

Destination development we call in in the trade.  There are whole strategies and plans around it, how you do it, who you engage, infrastructure requirements, support provided to communities. But to do this here in India seems laughable. Nothing is straightforward. And of course this is not where the original shala started, nor the inspiration for the current, new shala. That is another story all-together, and not mine to tell. You need to come here to learn some of that heritage from the teachers here who chat to us after class, after pranayama. It's very nice this part. I think it's mean spirited to moan about how coming to Mysore to do yoga today is not like it used to be before the new shala opened, as though somehow we didn't wish for locals to benefit from growing western interest in their town and culture, as though doing it harder is somehow, better. I don't buy into this.  I don't support 'poverty porn' either, you know  gawping at how other people live and taking photos and walking among them and wrestling with guilt and going home to comfort. Ethically I have a problem with it, and don't feel sorry for poor people. It is how it is and it is unfair but people don't need our pity, they need food and work and clean water and school and privacy to live their lives.

The emergence of 'slum tourism' sounds disgraceful, but like a lot of things around poverty, cultural tourism and money, first impressions are not usually correct.  In India the phenomena gives locals the chance to tell their story their way, be paid as guides and show curious westerners about slum living, creative social systems, survival and services. (Read Shantaram for more about this, or A Fine Balance by Rohan Mistry.) To me this is a slightly better way, than perverse, invasive photo-snapping and vouyerism or visiting orphanages to give love (pity) to children, who tourists have no connection to. Or making stuff up without the facts. I think it's important to get clear on what we believe based on our own experiences and research.

It has crossed my mind in a horrible way, that perhaps I've been duped. I've bought into this thing that  coming to Mysore is somehow going to deepen my practise, but does it matter where you do this? There was a point in my practise today where I didn't even really know where I was, that's what going in deep is like. The town you are in is irrelevant when you are focusing so much on breathing, and finishing it is like coming out of a vivid dream; there's a mental shift back into time and space when I finally lay down for shivasana. I remember thinking after practise Oh ok. I've got to go back 'out there' and have breakfast and stuff. Navigate this town and country again. It seems a bit daunting and not really important at the same time.


Locals worshipping at Chammundi Hill Temple
Is the Mysore experience really a thing, or just what you make it? What you bring to it? And this may well be true, I may well have been duped.  I will tell you in a month if it is true, or if it even matters. You are what you think.  (I'm paraphrasing Buddha with a fair bit of liberty there)

Sometimes I wish I didn't think so much.