My Yoga Experience...

Last week, one of my colleagues invited me for a Yoga class. We made a date for Tuesday (Yesterday) 'Wear something loose' she said.
And so i did.

I have always loved exercise, generally, though i thought more (as do many people) that Yoga is mostly an 80% of the time, passive trance inciting exercise where one sits and chants some mantra repeatedly till he/she attains (or pretends to attain) a state of euphoria, mind undulation, floating awareness..., as i thought that it's active. The latter state-of-mind clearly stamped out, the constant wincing as i type out on this keyboard maintaining as a rude reminder.

We went to this American club in off Makindye known for its famous flea markets where expats leaving the country regularly sell off their artifacts and other things.
After renting a yoga mat from the fitness center, i was whisked off to this room at the south side of the expansive house/center/club (all in one) and was welcomed by this ugandan instructor, 5.8", slight build, ebony skin, unplacable accent with matching, exaggerated arm (and leg) gesticulations.

Quickly we were told to get onto our knees. Here i am thinking, Kinky!! Unplacable accent starts drawling these commands, '...... put left limb infront of right limb, raise head above and arch your spine, feel the tensing of the muscle (says biologic name of mentioned muscle)...' '....stand on your right leg with your right toes digging into the ground, raise your left leg behind you at a 90degree angle to your right leg, lean forward until your spine lines perfectly with your left leg.... for those who want to go higher, raise your back until you do a U shape..... feel your body align.....your chakra..'
'Did he say chakra?' i mused to myself.
He said Align. Interesting, as i thought that particular word was used more for cars.

The exercises were too strenuous, i thought i tore something in the process. One and a half hour long execution of the most impossible swan shapes and curves i thought i last saw on TV, done by those pint sized Japanese freak acrobats.

At around 7.30pm we were told to lie down and relax our muscles, in a strait-jacket shape with our eyes closed. Unplacable accent then crept around covering our eyes with a cloth filled with crystal-like consistency, lavender scented stones. These had a clean, calming smell that quickly relaxed me. He went ahead and covered the entire length of our bodies with light burka like pieces, and went ahead and sprayed potpourri all around the room.
We were ordered to stay still and meditate.
Now, i have never meditated, my mind is too crazy for that. Yes, i always sit down and think, hell, i do that on a daily basis as the execution of my work tasks needs a lucid mind and well thought out task executiion techniques, BUT i have never really sat down in an ape-like trance, clearing my mind of all thought and try to attain a state of ethereal hypnosis.
I dont know what that is, but i sure want to try out, and this is what was required of me in yesterday's Yoga class.
As the instructor rustled about, unzipping bags and taking out Godknowswhat, i couldn't help but wonder what he was removing, that he was probably retrieving some oriental charm that would take a life, shape, form of its own and bite all of us into next-year! But the African in me was quicky doused by the consciousness that i was in a real studio and was doing real, yoga things, and that if unplacable accent did his job well, that i would probably be back next Tuesday.

'... now slowly regain your consciousness, feel your spirit taking form again, find your center...' the instructor softly droned, his voice sounding like a radio whose volume was being turned up, slowly-slowly.
I quickly, impatiently shook off the covers and darted my eyes around the now darkened room, as if expecting to see the receeding tail of the monster that could have been dancing around the room...
And with an awkward sound to his voice, sounding, not, like we were getting off the Alladin carpet from the flight over Asia, but, that it was time for us to fork out the money and pay up, for the session was complete, he said '...hmm..mmm and that is the end of today's session...' to which we awkwardly cleared our throats in in return, and paid up.

The whole experience left me with an ambivalence, a "what was that?" question, a curiosity that will only be placated by thorough internet research, and perhaps another visit to unplacable accents' domain for some of those indecipherable indian words....