Heat

We leave for the Ashram in two hours. After the recent insanity of tourist season up here on the hill I am really looking forward to some om shanti time. I sit here typing as I listen to raindrops fall on the metal roof above my head. Through the skylights I can see dribbles and rivulets plummeting toward the ground. It is chilly here on the hill. On our walk through the shola this morning I wore a down vest for the first time in months. Soon, though, I know I'll be fighting the most awful battle I face here: my body vs. the heat of the Indian plains.

There will be a moment on the bus down the hill where I will notice a shift in temperature. I'll unwind myself from my shawl, and at first I might welcome the heat. But not for long, because soon it will become massively uncomfortable, even when I'm sitting still. I've done what I can to prepare for this eventuality. I have light cotton Indian clothing to wear, designed to let in whatever breeze there is. I have 10 packets of rehydration salts to dump into my water bottle when needed. I have a bandana for handy dandy sweat removal. But still. Thinking about the heat, just considering the waves of it, the wall of it, the pain of it, I am starting to panic a bit even as I sit here chilly with goose bumps.

For some people the heat isn't so bad. I get that. Last time I was down on the plains I sat on a bus, not moving a muscle, breathing slowly to try to quash my panic, and I watched as the people around me went about their business quite calmly, as thin and dry as bones.

I remember summer in Hong Kong almost killing me. That was about the extremes, though. We'd go from scorching humidity to icy air-con umpteen times every day. Once I got on the train at rush hour to get to my job tutoring English to little kids and I passed out right on the floor of the train amid the hundreds of other people on their way to work. This moment stands out in my mind even almost a decade later, for two reasons: one, no one did a thing to help me. Not one of the other people on the train even asked me if I was all right or offered me a hand as I struggled back to my feet as we approached Kowloon Tong station. The second thing I remember was getting off the freezing train and being hit by the immense heat of early morning and feeling like I might keel over again.

We are going to the Ashram to meditate, to practice yoga asanas, and to learn more about the Vedic tradition yoga stems from. I hope that practicing twice a day in the heat of the Kerala summer won't kill me. I'm sure I'll get somewhat used to it, and I'm hoping that the meditation practice will help me reign in my panicky feelings regarding the heat. I know I'll be thinking back to sitting here, a chill in the air, cold rain pattering down on the roof above my head.