Settled in the Annapurna Valley – the start of many journeys – Pokhara, the lake-town that hosts exciting adventures, unique point-of-views (for picture-taking), and condescending bar venues. Yes, many from all different backgrounds converge here, with miniature adventure lands kindly “borrowing” names from Disney Land, hotel chains like the Four Seasons, and catchy café titles that draw the attention of the crowds it represents (like Ayurvedico, where this piece is being written).
Two months ago, we landed in Kathmandu where the excitement for spiritual adventure felt oh so real. So possible. Unfortunately, as the days changed into weeks, we discovered something crucial in our search for teachers, for opportunities, for something: the magic bus has gone off already (on very bumpy terrain that only God knows where). Yes, the ships built by the ancient Yogic lineages has taken off, and perhaps the Nepalese Yogis are still in the now discovered caves of the mountains, but more certainly they’ve left this dying planet for greener (or perhaps redder) pastures.
The last two months have been fuelled by “morning page” spurts, by different variations of the same coffee. Yoga poses and meditation postures. Tomorrow we leave to head back to Thailand. I had one relapse, somehow surviving the brutish concrete landscapes of Kathmandu and instead fall at the first hurdle entering a hostel in Pokhara. In this time we (my friend and I) stayed at an ashram, attended a vipassana course, yoga retreat with a hike, and took LSD. The one time I drank, it was so heavy I blacked out and remember little, only to find out the next day what stupid shit I’ve done. Despite the endless chase for self-healing and self-actualisation, I was found, instead, by the gutter being taken care of by the local dogs. The picture wasn’t as romantic as it sounds.
So why Pokhara? Why did I make it through Kathmandu unscathed yet give into the temptations in this supposed paradise that is centred around Fewa Lake? With a large statue of Shiva resting at the top, overlooking this potential pilgrimage? He stands next to the World Peace Pagoda, another beautiful monument showcasing the message of Buddhism.
Yes, why Pokhara, where as I sit and write this piece (again at a cafe that promotes health and balance that’s supposedly for the promotion of our Ayurvedic constitutions), there are four workers standing behind the counter, one cleaning whilst another screams at them about this or that, and the other two (one looking like the mother/manager) stare idly as it unfolds. It’s a scenario that represents the overall vibration I receive whilst being here: spirituality, in the common vocabulary, doesn’t exist here anymore. At least not between the average person. As statues of Buddha or Krishna or Shiva situate themselves on the dashboard of buses and taxis, the owners proceed to yell, throw their hands up at other drivers, or stare with such patronising force at others. Lest we forget the slipped 10 rupee note underneath the armpits of these great Gods.
As you walk down the lovely lake-side, and watch local fishermen get lucky, the other direction promotes large signs of happy hours (which is pretty much all the time during the lower seasons). Beers for this sort of price, two cocktails for the price of one. Bars upon bars upon bars. Trust me, wherever your hungry-ghost eyes stare, there will be some form of bar ready to serve you alcohol (with a nice photograph of Krishna and his flute above the imported spirits).
You will walk down the streets and see signs for yoga retreats, meditation courses, singing bowl escapades. They’re great options to get away from the “resort-like” experience of lakeside. We did a two week program at Atmashree, which involved a yoga/hike trip to Poon Hill (amazing), and a week course on Chakras and Kundalini Chakra. Overall, it was a worthwhile escape, and we got to practice Satyananda style yoga which involved Hatha (both postures and cleansing), several forms of Pratyahara practice, and meditations. We had kirtan, singing bowls, delicious meals. Fantastic weather (rain almost every day that delivered high-impact thrills against our tinned roofs), nice distant view of the lake, and an opportunity to follow a routine that promoted yoga, meditation, and self-study. Only issue (come on, I always find issues!) is perhaps what I am talking about now. Many people come to Nepal for the treks, and I think many always have an idea of its spiritual significance. So perhaps many are also surprised (maybe not so negatively like me) by the amount of alcoholic promotion that goes on here. And so, to try to connect to Spirit rather than downing another spirit, they head over to a yoga retreat.
So here’s another dilemma, the yoga retreats are stuffed sometimes. I know I prefer a stricter, harsher environment (silence during meals, mandatory self-study, no devices), but these aren’t the every day requirements for many. I’ve met people who’s first exposure to Yoga was this retreat. So it’s great to see so many choosing to explore the spiritual aspects of this ancient nation, but many of the retreats here (and in many different areas of tourism) capitalise and squeeze in as many people as they could to get that extra penny. This is fair, as Nepal depends heavily on tourism and, like many countries who didn’t understand how important their tourists were until Covid, they’re trying to make up for the money not gained, debts gained, and losses acquired. Still, it goes to show that you won’t end up meeting your guru easily nowadays, I didn’t. Yet we did meet a misogynistic self-proclaimer, more on that later.
Instead I got to meet a few good souls, but much more stoned hearts. Come to “vegan” cafes and prepare to enjoy someone’s cigarette smoke. Do a singing bowl session and enjoy a cocktail after (or stay up late and boast about your all-morning hangover being cured by a cacao ceremony later). Listen to the many overly acted Namaste Namaste!‘s as they smile cheekily, only to turn to their neighbour and give a genuine Namaskar.
Here’s the thing, I’ll probably be back here. I learned a great lesson on expectations, on assumption. India taught me that there are cultures that still ingrain Religion and Spirit in the day to day. Towns like Rishikesh, albeit as touristic as Pokhara (more-so), at least have fantastic alcohol regulations. But there too you’ll find traps.
And I understand my own hypocrisy. I relapsed after two months, I continued to visit (and therefore support) cafes that promoted drinking & smoking. I ventured very little to temples (I’d like to blame chronic tiredness but it was mostly due to it all feeling like a farce after two months). I even westernised for a night as we went to the Movie Garden to check out Boyhood. I will say, that was a great experience, to see an outdoor movie after so long on the road. But there too we have so much alcoholic promotion, a password for the wifi being gintonic420, and people drinking, people smoking. There’s a sad truth that nowadays, it’s everywhere, even in your spiritual nook & cranny.
But the movie Boyhood had a nice subtle message related to this. Drinking is everywhere. It’s in alcoholic fathers, alcoholic partners, our buddies, parties, our frat boys, sororities. It’s used to celebrate. To grieve. To suffer. You either drink or you’re weak. It’s in adults who flirt with kids. It’s constantly present.
It’s inside your yoga teacher too. Inside the guru’s bedroom. It’s hidden in the fridge with your vegan cakes; It’s with you when you go on a trail. It’s waiting for you when you’ve convinced yourself it’s a good time to drink again.
So yeah, it’s in Pokhara (and in Nepal in general) too. This isn’t a critique of the nation, but a warning. If you’re an alcoholic, the demon’s still here too. And people feed it well here. Be careful. Keep remembering the truth of what you are. And remember to keep the compassion for yourself and for other sentient beings too; we’re all addicted in some shape or form.