Bison
Langur Mumma
From a lookout in the jungle we could hear native Peacocks calling to each other, and came across this huge elephant femur. the adults were a little sceptical about how it got there, but only the adults were sceptical.
Macaque
Felix in the boys' room at Casa Deep woods working on his journal
Peter working on Guruji's song
The dam on the creek that the five kids built - but didn't catch any fish
Sanjeev and Tina Sassoon, our friends who travelled with us to the Jungle. Beautiful people with hearts of gold.
Near the Casa Deep wood is a small village, with just four shops (though only two open - and all the shops looked a bit like bus shelters with all the sides closed in an a half wall on the front, well, probably as deep as 3m from front to back. near the village on top of a hill is a well known (locally) Shiva and Parvati temple. You ought to be able to just make out the temple, with its one dome and 'veranda' to the right
Here is a detail of the dome.
Another view
Mongoose
Langur Mumma
From a lookout in the jungle we could hear native Peacocks calling to each other, and came across this huge elephant femur. the adults were a little sceptical about how it got there, but only the adults were sceptical.
Macaque
Felix in the boys' room at Casa Deep woods working on his journal
Peter working on Guruji's song
The dam on the creek that the five kids built - but didn't catch any fish
Sanjeev and Tina Sassoon, our friends who travelled with us to the Jungle. Beautiful people with hearts of gold.
This is one of the local 'working' elephants, going about its work
Well?>!
Well?>!
On the way to the nearest village.
Near the Casa Deep wood is a small village, with just four shops (though only two open - and all the shops looked a bit like bus shelters with all the sides closed in an a half wall on the front, well, probably as deep as 3m from front to back. near the village on top of a hill is a well known (locally) Shiva and Parvati temple. You ought to be able to just make out the temple, with its one dome and 'veranda' to the right
Here is a detail of the dome.
Another view
The view from the hill of the temple and surrounding country
Barney’s Blog
The Squishy Car Ride
This morning we were getting ready to go to a resort in the jungle called Casa deep Woods and, of course, were rushing, but we made it. And when we did we all got into a Sumo [4WD]. Me, Tai, Aryaman and Devina in the back, Tina and Dani in the middle and Felix, Dad and the driver in the front. But when we made a stop Felix came in the back and it was very squishy. When we got into the jungle we saw some spotted deer, wild boar, monkeys, anthills and even an elephant.
After about three hours driving [we arrived at] the Case Deep Woods and had a buffet lunch and played on a rope chair swing. Then we got into a jeep to go to an elephant camp with working elephants but halfway we saw three baby elephants and three mummys!! When we got to the camp we saw a cute little baby elephant, 11 months old and as tall as me!
[The next morning] while it was still dark we got into a jeep and went on safari. First we saw some cows and donkeys sleeping on the road and blocking it. Then some peacocks, bison, spotted deer, sambar, elephants and then came back and had breakfast.
We played for the whole day until the afternoon when Dani, Dad, Felix, Devina and I went to a Shiva and Parvati temple on top of a hill.
The next day we went home from Casa but I sat in the front with a bucket and Dad cause I had the runs. But when we got back we went to a Chinese restaurant and I felt better.
Guruji’s Birthday
This morning we were getting ready for Guruji’s 92nd birthday party when a singer from Iceland called Inga and a clarinetist called John from Ireland came to practice a song Dad and Dani had written for the party.
When we got there the room was very smoky because a fire was there for a puja. They did some ceremonial things, the priests blessed everyone by sprinkling water on us with leaves while chanting. After there was some performances, the song Dad and Dani wrote, a dancer, singing mantras. Then every body went to the garage to eat but because hundreds of people were there we had to take turns. We were second. When it was our turn we had , instead of plates, banana leaves. Then we came home and went to the pool and the Green Leaf Restaurant.
The Squishy Car Ride
This morning we were getting ready to go to a resort in the jungle called Casa deep Woods and, of course, were rushing, but we made it. And when we did we all got into a Sumo [4WD]. Me, Tai, Aryaman and Devina in the back, Tina and Dani in the middle and Felix, Dad and the driver in the front. But when we made a stop Felix came in the back and it was very squishy. When we got into the jungle we saw some spotted deer, wild boar, monkeys, anthills and even an elephant.
After about three hours driving [we arrived at] the Case Deep Woods and had a buffet lunch and played on a rope chair swing. Then we got into a jeep to go to an elephant camp with working elephants but halfway we saw three baby elephants and three mummys!! When we got to the camp we saw a cute little baby elephant, 11 months old and as tall as me!
[The next morning] while it was still dark we got into a jeep and went on safari. First we saw some cows and donkeys sleeping on the road and blocking it. Then some peacocks, bison, spotted deer, sambar, elephants and then came back and had breakfast.
We played for the whole day until the afternoon when Dani, Dad, Felix, Devina and I went to a Shiva and Parvati temple on top of a hill.
The next day we went home from Casa but I sat in the front with a bucket and Dad cause I had the runs. But when we got back we went to a Chinese restaurant and I felt better.
Guruji’s Birthday
This morning we were getting ready for Guruji’s 92nd birthday party when a singer from Iceland called Inga and a clarinetist called John from Ireland came to practice a song Dad and Dani had written for the party.
When we got there the room was very smoky because a fire was there for a puja. They did some ceremonial things, the priests blessed everyone by sprinkling water on us with leaves while chanting. After there was some performances, the song Dad and Dani wrote, a dancer, singing mantras. Then every body went to the garage to eat but because hundreds of people were there we had to take turns. We were second. When it was our turn we had , instead of plates, banana leaves. Then we came home and went to the pool and the Green Leaf Restaurant.
Felix’s Blog
Guruji’s Birthday
Today we went to Guruji’s birthday party. At the party the priests did some chanting then sprinkled us with water as a blessing. There was fire in the room. Guruji turned 92. there was a big cake and a big breakfast. First some people did a song, then Mum and Peter did a song. Near the end I went upstairs and played with Shradda [Guruji’s great granddaughter] and her friend [cousin]. At breakfast we ate off banana leaves. At Guruji’s party were more than one hundred people. They were his yoga students, his friends and his family. At Guruji’s house there are lifts.
Brahmin priests waiting to begin the puja
Guruji’s Birthday
Today we went to Guruji’s birthday party. At the party the priests did some chanting then sprinkled us with water as a blessing. There was fire in the room. Guruji turned 92. there was a big cake and a big breakfast. First some people did a song, then Mum and Peter did a song. Near the end I went upstairs and played with Shradda [Guruji’s great granddaughter] and her friend [cousin]. At breakfast we ate off banana leaves. At Guruji’s party were more than one hundred people. They were his yoga students, his friends and his family. At Guruji’s house there are lifts.
Brahmin priests waiting to begin the puja
This is Guruji posing for the formal and media photos, and his daughter, Saraswati.
this Traditional Indian band played first. The Sitar player is from Sydney and has a beautiful voice in her own right.
They were followed by a Balinese dancer.
Who was followed by a band made up of blonde hairy people and brunettes with glasses.
The singers
The guitarist
The fans
Sharath ran things on the day, with lots of assistants, and it all seemed to go well for him.
Sharing a quiet joke
part of the crowd in the shala
Here's the man with his birthday cake in front - happy day
this is Guruji's brother (we believe)
For those of you who may know him, this is a photo of Lakshmish and his new wife. Lakshmish will soon be a father, and is delighted about that. he is currently living in the old shala, and attends guruji each day to run puja for Guruji every day, as well as running Sanskrit and Chanting courses for the yoga students.
There were at least 50 people at each sitting of the birthday lunch.
this Traditional Indian band played first. The Sitar player is from Sydney and has a beautiful voice in her own right.
They were followed by a Balinese dancer.
Who was followed by a band made up of blonde hairy people and brunettes with glasses.
The singers
The guitarist
The fans
Sharath ran things on the day, with lots of assistants, and it all seemed to go well for him.
Sharing a quiet joke
part of the crowd in the shala
Here's the man with his birthday cake in front - happy day
this is Guruji's brother (we believe)
For those of you who may know him, this is a photo of Lakshmish and his new wife. Lakshmish will soon be a father, and is delighted about that. he is currently living in the old shala, and attends guruji each day to run puja for Guruji every day, as well as running Sanskrit and Chanting courses for the yoga students.
He especially sends a "Hello" to Leilani :)
There were at least 50 people at each sitting of the birthday lunch.
The banana leaf plates were rolled up in the paper tablecloth at the end and thrown away. The cows, donkeys, horses, goats or what have you would have eaten it all at the end - nothing wasted.
Yoga:
The Friday on which we left for the jungle was lead class day. Each week there is a ‘lead’ class on Sunday and Friday. Lead class is where Sharath talks everyone in the Shala (approx. 60 people) through the sequence of asanas and vinyasa, counting each movement and all breaths and everyone follows along in ‘unison’. All the other days’ classes are “Mysore” style, that is, you start when there is a vacant mat space and work through the sequence at your own pace, which requires you to have memorized the sequence, but you will be told what to do next if necessary, and there is usually someone just ahead of you nearby anyway.
We all had a tear in our eye this particular Friday, all the yoga students. Some eyes filled up and spilled over. The yoga mats are arranged in long rows, stretching from one wall of the Shala to the other. Each student was sitting cross-legged at the front of their sticky-mat, waiting for the class to start. Sharath had come to the door of the office, at the back of the Shala, to quieten us down, saying, “No talking. Save your energy!” [It is some months now since Pattabhi Jois was hospitalized for more than a week, and effectively grandson Sharath is in charge now. WE had had to accept that Guruji had stopped teaching, Sharath was the man.] I was located at the front of the Shala, on the office side and looked around when Sharath had spoken and noticed that Guruji was sitting at his desk in the office. 90% of the other students would not have been able to see in. Then, suddenly, it seemed Guruji. was being escorted from the office by Sharath and Saraswati. Stepping carefully through the mats of the students, daughter in front, grandson and yoga-heir slightly behind, both poised to offer immediate assistance, Guruji made his way to the front of the Shala and up onto the low stage. “Samastitihi” he called out in his warm and fierce tone and the whole Shala rose as one to take up the starting position for the practice.
There were tears for many reasons. For some this was the first time they had seen Pattahbi Jois in the flesh. For some it was the first time on this particular visit. For many it was because this man’s dedication to the service of his passion, his mission and his calling are a gift to the world, a service to humanity. He is not the only yoga teacher. He is not the most famous or best known yoga teacher in India, the West or the world in general. Yet, at 91 years and 363 days of age, this man had roused himself from the comfort and recuperation of his bed upstairs to come down at 6:15 in the morning to talk 60 weird Westerners through the Ashtanga Vinyasa sequence the way it ‘ought’ to be done. On a personal, one-to-one level there were only a handful of people in that room that meant much to him. Half a dozen long term students who’d come for his birthday. But he was there, doing his job: practise, practise, practise!
For some, the tears welled or fell because it was the last time, the last practice, Guruji would lead them through. Have you ever spent time with a loved one, knowing that events or circumstances meant that you would not be together again in this life? For some this is what it was like.
He spoke the first words of the opening mantra in his familiarly accented Sanskrit, and we were away, into the practice. I didn’t fully concentrate, I must admit, because from time to time, when the pose was convenient, I would avert my drishti (gaze) from the navel, or toe or distance to watch Guruji.
At times he would stand up from the chair as he counted the breaths, watching hawk like for the misplaced hand or foot or leg, the misbalanced wobble, the left instead of right, the bent instead of straight. Where years ago he would stalk back and forth across the stage, now he stood in one place, legs a little bent, back only very slightly bowed but the fierceness in his eyes. He still has a fierceness to his gaze; a spark of fire. To me it felt like a jealousness; not of our strength or youth or vigour, but jealous to keep the practice pure, clean and right.
I left early, the first to leave and finish off alone in the dressing room while the others continued on. All through my cooling sequence of poses I could hear Guruji’s voice counting out, loud and strong. As I came out of Corpse Pose, the relaxation asana at the very end I became aware of a profound silence. “Oh no!” I thought in panic, “Have I slept right through everything and everyone has finished and gone home?!” (It is not unknown for Dani to nudge me awake with her big toe as we finish our practice at home.)
Quickly leaving my things I crept downstairs in the dressing room to see what was happening in the main Shala. I became aware of deep breathing. From lots of people! Strange. I peeked around the corner of the door into the Shala and everyone was still there. Everyone was in head stand. Suddenly, from out of a toilet door in the darkened dressing room a shape loomed and we both recoiled in shock. It was Guruji! Who, after counting everyone into head-stand and up to breath number three, had left the Shala and gone to the loo, leaving all standing (so to speak) as they were. I quickly smiled, bowed my head with the Namaste gesture, and stepped back. Guruji grunted, stepped to the door between dressing room and Shala and intoned “Six” to the crowd of students (evoking a few chuckles) and continued to lead the practice to the end.
I dressed and packed up and sat in the doorway watching until the end. Guruji was escorted back to the office after the closing mantra by Saraswati, while Sharath talked the class through to the end.
It was a special day.
The Friday on which we left for the jungle was lead class day. Each week there is a ‘lead’ class on Sunday and Friday. Lead class is where Sharath talks everyone in the Shala (approx. 60 people) through the sequence of asanas and vinyasa, counting each movement and all breaths and everyone follows along in ‘unison’. All the other days’ classes are “Mysore” style, that is, you start when there is a vacant mat space and work through the sequence at your own pace, which requires you to have memorized the sequence, but you will be told what to do next if necessary, and there is usually someone just ahead of you nearby anyway.
We all had a tear in our eye this particular Friday, all the yoga students. Some eyes filled up and spilled over. The yoga mats are arranged in long rows, stretching from one wall of the Shala to the other. Each student was sitting cross-legged at the front of their sticky-mat, waiting for the class to start. Sharath had come to the door of the office, at the back of the Shala, to quieten us down, saying, “No talking. Save your energy!” [It is some months now since Pattabhi Jois was hospitalized for more than a week, and effectively grandson Sharath is in charge now. WE had had to accept that Guruji had stopped teaching, Sharath was the man.] I was located at the front of the Shala, on the office side and looked around when Sharath had spoken and noticed that Guruji was sitting at his desk in the office. 90% of the other students would not have been able to see in. Then, suddenly, it seemed Guruji. was being escorted from the office by Sharath and Saraswati. Stepping carefully through the mats of the students, daughter in front, grandson and yoga-heir slightly behind, both poised to offer immediate assistance, Guruji made his way to the front of the Shala and up onto the low stage. “Samastitihi” he called out in his warm and fierce tone and the whole Shala rose as one to take up the starting position for the practice.
There were tears for many reasons. For some this was the first time they had seen Pattahbi Jois in the flesh. For some it was the first time on this particular visit. For many it was because this man’s dedication to the service of his passion, his mission and his calling are a gift to the world, a service to humanity. He is not the only yoga teacher. He is not the most famous or best known yoga teacher in India, the West or the world in general. Yet, at 91 years and 363 days of age, this man had roused himself from the comfort and recuperation of his bed upstairs to come down at 6:15 in the morning to talk 60 weird Westerners through the Ashtanga Vinyasa sequence the way it ‘ought’ to be done. On a personal, one-to-one level there were only a handful of people in that room that meant much to him. Half a dozen long term students who’d come for his birthday. But he was there, doing his job: practise, practise, practise!
For some, the tears welled or fell because it was the last time, the last practice, Guruji would lead them through. Have you ever spent time with a loved one, knowing that events or circumstances meant that you would not be together again in this life? For some this is what it was like.
He spoke the first words of the opening mantra in his familiarly accented Sanskrit, and we were away, into the practice. I didn’t fully concentrate, I must admit, because from time to time, when the pose was convenient, I would avert my drishti (gaze) from the navel, or toe or distance to watch Guruji.
At times he would stand up from the chair as he counted the breaths, watching hawk like for the misplaced hand or foot or leg, the misbalanced wobble, the left instead of right, the bent instead of straight. Where years ago he would stalk back and forth across the stage, now he stood in one place, legs a little bent, back only very slightly bowed but the fierceness in his eyes. He still has a fierceness to his gaze; a spark of fire. To me it felt like a jealousness; not of our strength or youth or vigour, but jealous to keep the practice pure, clean and right.
I left early, the first to leave and finish off alone in the dressing room while the others continued on. All through my cooling sequence of poses I could hear Guruji’s voice counting out, loud and strong. As I came out of Corpse Pose, the relaxation asana at the very end I became aware of a profound silence. “Oh no!” I thought in panic, “Have I slept right through everything and everyone has finished and gone home?!” (It is not unknown for Dani to nudge me awake with her big toe as we finish our practice at home.)
Quickly leaving my things I crept downstairs in the dressing room to see what was happening in the main Shala. I became aware of deep breathing. From lots of people! Strange. I peeked around the corner of the door into the Shala and everyone was still there. Everyone was in head stand. Suddenly, from out of a toilet door in the darkened dressing room a shape loomed and we both recoiled in shock. It was Guruji! Who, after counting everyone into head-stand and up to breath number three, had left the Shala and gone to the loo, leaving all standing (so to speak) as they were. I quickly smiled, bowed my head with the Namaste gesture, and stepped back. Guruji grunted, stepped to the door between dressing room and Shala and intoned “Six” to the crowd of students (evoking a few chuckles) and continued to lead the practice to the end.
I dressed and packed up and sat in the doorway watching until the end. Guruji was escorted back to the office after the closing mantra by Saraswati, while Sharath talked the class through to the end.
It was a special day.
Guruji's birthday was another special day. There were students, family, friends, two film crews, young great-grandchildren, old codger mates and on and on. It was great to be a part of the day.
The Birthday was actually on the full moon (Sunday) but the yoga student celebration was on the Monday. there was a puja and then some entertainment, a huge birthday cake and then everyone was fed downstairs in the garage. There were so many people that there were three separate sittings.
Dani and I had the opportunity to perform at Guruji's birthday. We spent all of the Saturday at the Casa Deep Woods writing a song for the occasion. the day was overcast and rainy. The rain was lovely: soft, gentle, steady. Nothing like the wet season downpours. It lent the day a feeling that was conducive to being still and creative.
we perfomed the song with the assistance of Inga (a EuroVision song contest participant from Iceland) who provided harmonies and tweaks that finessed the song, and John (professional classical clarinetist from Dublin (also performed at Dani's birthday)) who made the whole sound lush and rich.
One of the nicest and most fulfilling things about writing and performing the song was the feedback from so many yoga students along the lines of saying we had 'spoken for them'. and some of Guruji's family members also spoke about how it was loveley to hear our love and respect and affection for the guru come through the song.
the words are here below:
Song for Guruji’s 92nd Birthday
by Peter and Daniela, 2007 ©
A twelve-year-old boy at the yogi’s door
Inspired by something he’d never seen before
Nobody knows what the master saw
Our journey begins when he opened the door
A few years of practice and duty calls
Learning feeds hunger in dark college halls
The scholar once more in the yogi’s hands
Teaching and traveling all over the land
Here we now sit at the lotus feet
Honour, pay tribute to the master who gives
Ways to know self and bring happiness
Doctor who heals suffering
A young woman watching says this one is mine
Two lives in love marriage ever entwined
Scholar and yogi and mother of three
A pillar and bridge, beloved is she
From palace to Shala young women and men
Coming to seek out a master again
A handful, a trickle, so slowly it grows
Love opens hearts, a river now flows
Here we now sit at the lotus feet
Honour, pay tribute to the master who gives
Ways to know self and bring happiness
Doctor who heals suffering
The fierce fire of love still burns in your eyes
The practice you’ve nurtured will now never die
The lesson we learn from the life you’ve lived
Is focus and practice, through service to give
Here we now sit at the lotus feet
Honour, pay tribute to the master who gives
Ways to know self and bring happiness
Doctor who heals suffering
by Peter and Daniela, 2007 ©
A twelve-year-old boy at the yogi’s door
Inspired by something he’d never seen before
Nobody knows what the master saw
Our journey begins when he opened the door
A few years of practice and duty calls
Learning feeds hunger in dark college halls
The scholar once more in the yogi’s hands
Teaching and traveling all over the land
Here we now sit at the lotus feet
Honour, pay tribute to the master who gives
Ways to know self and bring happiness
Doctor who heals suffering
A young woman watching says this one is mine
Two lives in love marriage ever entwined
Scholar and yogi and mother of three
A pillar and bridge, beloved is she
From palace to Shala young women and men
Coming to seek out a master again
A handful, a trickle, so slowly it grows
Love opens hearts, a river now flows
Here we now sit at the lotus feet
Honour, pay tribute to the master who gives
Ways to know self and bring happiness
Doctor who heals suffering
The fierce fire of love still burns in your eyes
The practice you’ve nurtured will now never die
The lesson we learn from the life you’ve lived
Is focus and practice, through service to give
Here we now sit at the lotus feet
Honour, pay tribute to the master who gives
Ways to know self and bring happiness
Doctor who heals suffering
Felix's Blog:
Shopping Day
Shopping Day
Today we got up and went to Tina’s to have breakfast. We went straight to town to do shopping. The fist shop we went to was a silk shop. We spent so much money at that shop that the shopkeeper gave us a small wooden box and a chai each. Then we went to a few other shops and bought a few other things. At the silk shop they showed us a cocoon where a silk worm lived. The cocoon felt like silk. After that they showed us silk threads. When we got home we had lunch then read some books. After reading Nicash came to play. We went to a restaurant to have diner. After dinner we had a piece of chocolate pie each then went home. When we got home we told each other stories, did our journals and went to bed. When we got home there was a blackout and it was raining.
On Wednesday we went shopping for gifts and some materials for the tailor, Manju, t0 work with
. The proprieter of the shop is very practised at dealing with Westerners, and showed the boys a silk cocoon, admitting the caterpiller was inside, but dead.
And
showing us some raw silk that has come straight from the cocoon.
. The proprieter of the shop is very practised at dealing with Westerners, and showed the boys a silk cocoon, admitting the caterpiller was inside, but dead.And
showing us some raw silk that has come straight from the cocoon.
cotton, however, is a much more versatile material, able to be used for a variety of purposes. some people say it is 'multi-purpose'.
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