Nepal Yoga Home

It was a castle in the sky.

It felt that way at least, way up high, nestled at the edge of the jungle up the mountains.

I hugged a cup of black tea to my chest and stared out over the Himalayas. I had come to Nepal to become an internationally certified yoga teacher and complete a 200 hours training program at Nepal Yoga Home under the direction of yoga guru Prakash Acharya. My decision to come to Nepal, rather than doing the training course in America, was predicated on the fact that I had no interest in a commercialized, westernized yoga experience. I was here for the real deal.

I had hours of instruction and practice every day: yoga, pranayama, Ayurveda, anatomy, ashtanga, philosophy, and meditation. It was a 21 days intensive program and I was surrounded by sixteen other students, all here for different reasons, to deepen their practice and to deepen their connection with themselves.

Steam curled around my neck, I leaned over the balcony and saw Stina walking up the steps to the yoga home. Stina was my roommate at the yoga home and she’s from Stockholm.

My closest friends in the program were from Paris and Cairo. And the guy who practiced on the mat across from mine was Nic, a sailor from Denmark. I burst out laughing mid-class on a particularly hot morning, when we were all sweating profusely as I realized that never in my life did I think I’d smell the pheromones of a Danish sailor. Life was too good. Life was too unexpectedly good.

 Making Friends at Nepal Yoga Home

People use the phrase mixing pot to describe America, and I suppose that is true, but we’re talking about one ginormous millions-of-people mixing pot. I found this tiny mixing pot microcosm at Nepal Yoga Home, completely and wholeheartedly exhilarating. Speaking Spanish with my acro-yoga partner, saying good morning in French, exclaiming “nice hair cut!” on accident in Arabic when you meant to say congratulations, learning colloquialisms in Czech for a laugh — what’s better than that? I loved learning Nepali as well. The yoga home was run by a kind and generous Nepali family and everyone spoke varied levels of English, ranging from zero to blessedly near-perfect. So if I didn’t know how to say “Poogeo” they sometimes would keep serving me scoop after scoop of curried rice and vegetables until I’d pull my plate away in terror of the mountain of food I was expected to consume. Let’s just say it wasn’t the same case on samosa day, when I became the resident samosa record holder for the number I excitedly wolfed down.

The sun had warmed my shoulders, and the tea had warmed my hands. I looked up and saw a monkey perched on top of the roof. He’d taken a liking to snacking on pasta and bananas from our kitchen. I smiled. Nepal was nothing like I’d expected. Every day was the most beautiful day, the most precious day. I’d let go of all my ridiculous American stress around trivial, banal, non-consequential things – okay some things may be consequential, but still shouldn’t be constantly and frantically fretted over. Thanks to the soothing and simple life here, I’d been able to sink into my inner stillness. Nepal gave me many gifts, a YTTC200hr certificate, life long friends, enlightening spiritual and philosophical instruction, but perhaps the biggest gift was clarity. By taking away the frills of my life, I could see my life.

The clouds had shifted over the mountain range. Tendrils of varied languages traveled down from the hall above. It’s not exactly hot off the press news to anyone, but Nepal is magic.

Kindness, generosity, and simplicity are the cornerstones of Nepali culture. Everyone I encountered, other than street vendors of course, were eager to offer big grins and their big hearts to connect with me. After going to the same bakery twice, the barista there invited me to his home to have lunch with his sister. After buying water bottles from the same grocer three times, every time he saw me after he’d call out: “Oh hello my favorite customer!” After going on a motorcycle ride with some locals, they invited me to their wedding the following next year. Nepali people are some of the most loving, genuine people I’ve ever encountered on my travels before.