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This video is a collection of photos from my second visit to Pahalgam in 2005. It’s one of my favorite places; the people are beautiful and the landscape is gorgeous.

The Kashmiris are dying for their freedom (azad), yet a resolution seems a long way off. Neither India nor Pakistan want to relinquish their stronghold on a state that wants to be independent from both countries decades old politics, which many feel are related to water rights. Fighting in the region has worsened since the Mumbai attacks.

I hope to return to Pahalgam one day and gift these amazing people with their portraits!

After seeing the film Slumdog Millionaire a few weeks ago, I felt not jubilant, but disturbed. Having been to India five times and (collectively) spending 1.5 years in various locales, I’ve experienced the fascinating, difficult country firsthand.

Poverty is ever-present. The slums are not always hushed into dark pockets of the cities; they may exist alongside opulence on busy boulevards. Though, some slum areas, as shown in the film, are being leveled with high-rise complexes put in their place, further displacing the marginalized. And this is cause for concern.

A good friend of mine, a native of Calcutta, recently told me this in a correspondence:

In India the situation is getting from bad to worse. There is NO accountability at all. The new change now is that many of the downtroddens are rising up to protest / to demand . The Adivasis are rising. The Maoists movement is spreading like wild fire in India. They have support bases in Nepal and Bangladesh. They are as bad as the criminals in other parties. We have lots of political parties with all kinds of names, but basically the goal is the same – ” to come to power and to remain in power ” at any cost.

In Delhi the slums are being destroyed and people are being displaced in preparation for the 2010 Commonwealth Games:

India razes slums, leaves poor homeless

Maiming children, as they did in the film by blinding a boy, is not simply a movie phenomenon nor is it a rare occurrence. If a begging person is missing part of a limb or if they are blind, more money may be extracting from the unwitting. It plays on our emotions.

During my last trip to India I had a personal encounter with a young boy who was a victim of intentional maiming. I was walking down Main Bazaar in Delhi when he spotted me. Westerners with money enough to travel to India are prime targets.

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He came running towards me and then trotted alongside me, parroting “fifty rupees!, fifty rupees!”. It was the desolate look in his eyes that first caught my attention. Seeing his missing hand explained the expression.

The end of his arm was covered with a clean, stark white bandage. It stood in sharp contrast to the layers of dirt on his face, feet and clothes.

I stopped walking and asked him “who did this to you?” Both enraged and haunted by this child’s circumstance, I continued to try talking with him but he only knew enough english to beg for money, not converse with a foreigner.

I did not give the child 50 rupees but settled on ten in exchange for his portrait. I felt a twinge of guilt about that, but I knew I would not be allowed one without compensation.

I saw the boy a few days later in nearly the same stretch of Main Bazaar. However, this time his bandage was bloody and dirty. He was jumping up and down with his mutilated arm in the air, trying to get the attention of a (western) couple who were in conversation and paying no attention to him.

A month later, in Dharamsala, I met a man who had also seen this boy when he was in Delhi. He told me he saw him squeezing the end of his arm to make the bandage bloodier, and hopefully, more profitable.

Those who’ve not spent time in India wouldn’t necessarily know what parts of the film Slumdog Millionaire are fact versus fiction, though it’s well known that India is home to a wealth of impoverished people.

The fiction is the fairy-tale ending, and the sense it gives moviegoers, that despite deep poverty and dangerous conditions, the people are still smiling happy, even dancing for joy in the railway station, a place where many street children make their home.

I think this illusion gives us permission to go back to life as usual after the credits roll and the curtain falls. Their situation and suffering is not something we need concern ourselves with. Besides, they’re happy. Aren’t they?

* * *

See: Slumdog Millionaire’s child actors still live in ‘grinding poverty’ in Mumbai

Rubina Ali and Azharuddin Ismail, two of the child actors in “Slumdog Millionaire,” are still living in the slums of Mumbai, despite the film’s $14 million budget and worldwide success. Ali earned 500 British pounds ($710) for one year’s work and Ismail earned 1700 pounds ($2414), “less than many Indian domestic servants“:

Both children were found places in a local school and receive £20 a month for books and food. However, they continue to live in grinding poverty and their families say they have received no details of the trust funds set up in their names. Their parents said that they had hoped the film would be their ticket out of the slums, and that its success had made them realise how little their children had been paid.

There are three ayurvedic clinics in the tiny district of Bhagsu that offer pancha karma. I’ve recently met a few patients of the Asho clinic presently receiving treatment. One of them revealed that she feels it is very aggressive, that there is no sense of sympathy from the doctor for how exhausted she feels. She is being given a second dose of the diarrhea medication because the doctor of the clinic does not feel that eleven bowel movements was significant enough. She’s understandably, not happy about that, and at this point just hoping that she will come out on the other side of it feeling renewed and whole.

I also had a chat with a patient I had met at Siby’s who had seven days of basti treatment, followed by the therapeutic diarrhea medication. She said the cramping pain she experienced, that began as soon as she took the medication, was unbearable, and that she’ll never do it again. She looked as exhausted as she said she felt.

Friends have been curious to know how I am feeling post-pancha karma. If I notice any improvements in my health. I think I am still in the convalescence period; I’m tired, though my level of energy is quite high in comparison to what is was during treatment. My digestive/eliminative system was sluggish the first few days, though Siby informed me that was normal. I took a dose of the ayurvedic formula triphala the third night, a combination of three fruits that have a cleansing action. It is said to scrape ama (toxins) from the body. It seemed to help.

Thus far, I’ve noticed one thing. I’ve been able to stand in the sun without my eyes burning, indicative that the treatment benefited liver function, since the health of the eyes is related to the health of the liver. Other then that, nothing extraordinary, yet.

Undergoing a pancha karma program requires fortitude. While nine days felt the most I could endure, it is not enough time to address chronic health issues. Per Ayurveda recommendations, seasonal cleansings are ideal. And fasting one day per week.

Regarding my review on the administration of the treatment.

One essential ingredient in any healing program is the amount of heart the staff puts into their work. The heart of Siby’s staff is sincere and caring. From the beginning to the end. But there were times in betwixt the start and finish when their inconsistency weakened their proficiency.

With the massages, maximum benefit is offered when there are two practitioners, each working on one side of the body, both in synchronistic rhythm. However, during the massages I received the synchronicity was often missing. Some of the movements were sloppy, careless. Yet – from my personal knowledge of pancha karma – I think the therapists have been well trained. The problem seemed to be fatigue. Usha had been suffering from health problems during the duration of my treatment. And when the roster is full, patients are scheduled on the hour, with no reprieve between treatments. Some of the massages are rigorous, requiring a good deal of strength and energy. With no time to rest between sessions, there is no time for them to catch their breath. The rhythm gets scattered.

While finishing my final meal at the clinic, my program complete, I was asked by two female patients if I was happy with the treatment. They told me they were not feeling satisfied with the massage because the therapists’ movements were not harmonized. Siby walked in on our conversation and was apprised of the matter. He said he would speak with them, and I heard that the next day, the massages were much improved.

Another concern, for me, is the issue of hygiene. When I brought it to Siby’s attention that I thought some of the pancha karma materials may be used on more than one patient, he said it was not true, that it was not possible. It seemed he was not open to feedback of this nature though he did ask one of the therapists about it, who explained it away. The following day, I noticed some changes.

While the table cloth is renewed between patients, the same one remains in the steam box and there isn’t one on the chair patients sit naked on during the head massage. Though commonplace in India, this level of sanitation is difficult to our western sensitivities.

And finally, it would have been helpful if written information was given prior to treatment. What to expect. What is considered normal, possible problems. Though the doctor was always available to answer questions or concerns, daily doctor-patient interaction was missing. For me, it would offered reassurance, an important element when undergoing treatment, especially when it’s a new, rather intensive experience, like pancha karma.

It sounds luxurious to have a one-hour wash of warm milk continuously poured over the body, but by this point in the treatment, it felt more like work than relaxation. My reserves were hitting bottom, it all felt all-consuming. What kept me energized enough to get myself to the clinic four times daily is in the knowledge that in the end, I’ll emerge rejuvenated. I hope.

The morning milk treatment was followed by an afternoon of two therapies. The first was the same treatment as in the second phase of pancha karma, where hot oil is drizzled into a makeshift well on the body; this time it was on my low back. This was followed by one of the most beneficial of the karma’s, the basti or medicated enema. It is especially indicated in Vata constitution or derangement, since the colon is the main site of Vata. Each day was a bit different in terms of the quantity and formula of the basti. Of all the treatments that were administered, the basti proved to be the most energizing. Afterwards, I felt a few sparks of life returning. What joy!

The final day, after the pancha karma was complete, I was prescribed an ayurvedic herbal concoction to be taken at bedtime. It’s action – to induce therapeutic diarrhea. This insures that the impurities that were loosened during the treatment are swiftly eliminated from the body. My experience did not, thankfully, match what the doctor described I could expect, namely 10-15 movements that may last most of the night. For me it was simple and fairly quick. Most everyone else I’ve spoken with has had the latter experience.

It’s been three days since the treatment ended. Each day I feel a little more energy. To be honest, I think some of this can be attributed to the liberation I feel with being on the other side of it now. I was mostly confined to my room and the clinic for nearly two weeks; now I feel free!

Siby explained that after pancha karma the body is open and in some ways this is when the healing begins. Therefore it is important to maintain a healthy diet (preferably the same one as during the treatment for the first few weeks) and to take care not to do anything to exertion, not to get overheated. This cancels out the few other destinations I considered before returning home next week, since the temperatures in both of those places are well above 100 degrees. Just the 12-hour bus travel from here to Delhi will prove taxing, unless I decide to splurge and fly back. It may be worth it; the trip from here is an arduous one.

I originally started this series of posts on my pancha karma treatment to do a review of Siby’s. I do have some concerns and criticisms which I’ll put in a separate, final post.

The second round of treatment – the morning session specifically -was a little too stringent for my Vata sensitivities. Massage is one of those pleasures that I look forward to, but this type of massage didn’t feel nourishing like those warm, oily ones that I savor.

Mesh bags filled with herbs soaked in hot oil were pounded and pummeled onto my body, followed by a continual wiping motion with the bags. The first day of the massage was novel and endurable. On the second day the swiping action of the bags on my sensitive Vata skin felt too rough and the pounding action too hard. By the third day I felt raw, the coarseness of the mesh like sandpaper on my skin. Any benefits to be derived must’ve surely been canceled out on that day. I was relieved beyond measure when it was over. It was a tiring experience; I sort of felt like I had been beaten up. The skin and sense of touch are primary in Vata dosha – this massage proved too irritating.

The afternoon sessions were, in contrast, relaxing and simple, two administered at the same time. Oil-soaked gauze was placed onto my forehead; a cotton ball with oil hot was placed, and replaced, in the middle of it. On my third-eye.

The other treatment consisted of pouring warm oil onto my chest which was held in place by a small circular fortress made of flour-dough. When the oil cooled down it was replenished; slowly dripped into the well in a slow, spiral motion.

The diet portion of the treatment is going well. I’ve had little desire to eat anything other than the prescribed food, indicative of my nutritional needs being adequately met. My morning meal – oatmeal with apples and honey – is likely fulfilling my emotional nourishment since it’s a favorite of mine.

The deep sense of fatigue I’ve been feeling makes it hard to imagine that upon the completion of treatment I’ll be fully energized. But this is what I’ve been promised. I excitedly await such time.

Let us see what Phase Three of the treatment brings…

I’ve completed the first phase of treatment; three days of abhyanga (oil massage), followed by a steam bath, nasya and shirodhara.

Each treatment began with a vigorous oil scalp followed by whole body massage. In Ayurveda, if whole body massage is not possible, massage to the scalp, as well as the feet, is most important. Which means that we can administer it ourselves. Actually, massage can be self-administered, and is a recommended part of one’s Dinacharya (daily routine) prior to a morning shower.

After my massage medicated drops were inserted into each nostril (nasya). In the afternoon I received shirodhara, a therapy where warm oil is slowly drizzled across the forehead. Relaxing and nourishing to the mind.

The oil remained in my hair until the completion of the abhyanga and shirodhara. Elated to be able to wash it out, it took three rounds of shampoo to remove three days worth of oil slick. I felt reborn. I love the feel of oily massage but do not relish the oil remaining afterwards. It leaves it’s mark everywhere.

I developed a cold the first day, before the treatment began. It may have been from having lowered immunity exacerbated by the three-day semi-fast or it could be cleansing in nature. It’s still hanging on despite my strict adherence to the food they serve, which is basically the same as when doing ghee treatment, with a few more vegetables, and sometimes chapattis (Indian flat bread).

I’ve met a woman who is struggling with the bland repetitive diet. While dining, a group of us make fun of the meal, talking about our favorite forbidden foods while consuming our rice and mung dhal. While I’ve gotten accustomed to it – knowing it’s only short term – I understand her feeling of deprivation. It’s a common reaction that people have when thinking of the foods they’ll have to give up or extremely curb in order to achieve wellness. I made a few substitute suggestions, such as the use of ’stevia’ (produced from a S. American plant) for sweetener, and spoke about ‘antidoting’, a system in Ayurveda that eliminates the need for overly-obsessive diet choices, by finding ways to make a food more doshic-friendly. For example, potatoes are not a grand food choice for Vata, but if eaten on occasion, smothered in ghee, butter, or healthy vegetable oil, and appropriately spiced, the oiliness helps antidote the dryness factor.

My energy waxes and wanes, as per usual these last few weeks. It’s quite normal to have low energy reserves when doing pancha karma; it’s pretty intensive cleansing. I developed a rash (it looks like a heat rash) on my upper chest and back, which crept up my neck and down my upper arms. The massage oil was changed; it eliminated the slight itching that it produced, so it may have been a reaction to the oil. It may also have been an eliminative response by my body.

I met a man who is also receiving pancha karma whose entire body is covered with an angry red rash, some of it raised and oozing. He’s itching miserably. Despite having been given four different ayurvedic medicines, the symptoms remain and worsen after each massage. When he showed me today, he confusedly said that he did not know if he should shower after the massage, or not shower… (it’s recommended to keep it on for the duration of the treatment phase, though I feel it best to shower it off the next morning). I asked him what his sense was and he said he felt fine about the oil. He and the doctors consider his rash a triumphant sign that his body is releasing toxins. But perhaps it’s too quickly, too aggressively. I learned that his treatment time is double that of mine, likely because he is the only male patient at the moment.

The attendants for the female patients, on the other hand, are administering treatments a full day, most of which are quite vigorous in nature. They appear fatigued though won’t admit it when I ask. One of them has been ill, but her work must continue in order to serve the patients. I feel badly for her, and know that their overwork effects the quality of the treatment that I am receiving. Which concerns me. My business mind (I managed a doctor’s practice for several years) thinks of how I would rearrange the schedule to accommodate their needs, which would benefit them and their patients. I’d also implement some quality control with perhaps a bit of consistency, but alas, I am reminded, these things are not easily found in India.

Onto Phase Two…

Yesterday I had little energy. I took two naps and went to sleep early. There’s something comforting in sleep; it helps take my mind off my empty stomach and the general sense of discomfort that I feel.

I took my meal at the same time as yesterday. I was quite hungry, and also the consistency in timing is good. The mung beans were more thoroughly cooked with a dash more salt than the previous day; they tasted delicious. The small pieces of coconut in the rice is probably, in part, what helped sustain me for the remainder of the day.

During the night I woke with a burning sensation in my throat. This morning I had a sore throat and a feeling of being on the edge of a cold. With waves of nausea.

Bessy was late to arrive to administer my ghee – today was my last day. The plastic cup placed into my hand felt heavy; it was seven swallows worth. As I was drinking the glass of hot water that follows, she was gently touching my hair, telling me how beautiful it is. That it was like Kerela hair (I think she meant wild!), the state where she and Sibi’s entire staff is from. They split their time between Bhagsu and Kerela, here in the summer months and in the south of Kerela in the winter months.

I had a glass of ginger/lemon/honey tea about 30 minutes later, while conversing with Bhagsu friends about health issues and pancha karma. One of them spoke about how his parents use medications that he knows are not good for their health. It’s tragic that western medicine has replaced the traditional methods of healing here. It’s a matter of convenience. We want to pop a pill and watch the symptoms disappear. Pharmaceuticals have two actions – suppression or stimulation. When our symptoms are alleviated, they are suppressed into hiding, for a spell, but they will re-emerge. A little more serious each time. The goal of pancha karma is to detoxify and then regenerate the body. This takes time. And energy. Seldom do we allow ourselves this when it comes to our health. We can either invest in it now, or pay later, with chronic health conditions.

Tomorrow I start the pancha karma therapies. In the morning, massage with a lot of medicated oil (my skin has become drier since beginning the process so will happily drink it up) followed by steam. And nasya (medicated oil inserted in the nostrils), good for sinus problems. In the afternoon I think the treatment will be shirodhara, oil poured slowly onto the forehead for a period of time. This helps alleviate mental stress and sleep problems.

Speaking of sleep, I’m feeling ready for another nap. I need to keep my energy reserves in check for the commencement of my treatment tomorrow, which I’m looking forward to. And I’ll be eating two meals, including subji (vegetables), which I really miss.

My ‘extreme hunger’ came at around 2 o’clock in the afternoon yesterday (Day One). Bessy and Usha were surprised to see me; they asked if I was really hungry before telling the cook to make my khani, the mung beans and rice. I was hungry, and feeling light-headed, airy. And per Ayurvedic recommendations, eating our largest meal when the sun reaches it’s apex lends to optimal digestion.

I had to wait for 30 minutes for the khani to be prepared, so went to visit my friends at the Gypsy King. And ordered a cup of hot ginger/lemon/honey. I wasn’t sure if it was permitted on the program, (I later asked the doctor and he said it was no problem) but I knew it would revive me. My friends asked me all sorts of questions about my first day of treatment, curious about an ancient Indian system of healing that is seldom used by Indians. It’s predominately foreigners who partake of the program. It’s interesting how some westerners have reverted to traditional healing methods such as pancha karma, while India marvels at the drug-oriented western conventional medicine, which has now become commonplace here.

When I returned to the clinic, Bessy set me up in the yoga room with a low wooden table on which she sat two small bowls; one with the rice, the other containing mung dhal. The rice was not as watery as I anticipated; it tasted sweet and wholesome. My first bite into the dhal I bit down hard on an uncooked bean. After that I chewed the dhal very cautiously, finding 3-4 more rock-hard beans that somehow ended up in the cooked preparation.

The food was tasty; there was only a hint of salt added. I suffered no digestive upset afterwards, which is not uncommon for me with my Vata gut. It provided a sense of relief, calming the anxiety that I get whenever I try and do a cleansing or fasting program. It’s partly the drop in my blood sugar and I suspect that some of it is related to the emotional attachment that many of us have to food.

I spoke with the doctor afterwards who, like Usha and Bessy, was surprised that my hunger returned so early in the day. He said most people do not feel hungry until evening; 6:30 or 7pm. His prognosis? Increase the ghee, maybe by 70 percent. My expression must have prompted him to assure me that more ghee equals more lubrication, and better healing.

Truthfully, the ghee does not taste bad, at all. It’s quite mild, and I like ghee on food, so it’s not that big of a deal. Bessy told me that the ghee in the marketplace was very different, stronger smelling and tasting than their specially-prepared ghee.

I finished today’s dose in 4 swallows, so must’ve only been 20 percent more, not the 70 percent the doctor mentioned yesterday. I also told myself not to think about it. Just drink it down, without any forethought or afterthought. It works. It’s likely nearly the same with food. To not think about eating when mealtime comes. I considered taking more khani last night, per the doctor’s suggestion, but realized the feeling I was experiencing was not hunger but some digestive upset. So, I stopped thinking about food, and the sensation went away.

I’m not feeling anything too extraordinary yet. I have considered increasing my program from nine days to 12. That would mean receiving another therapy, since the treatment is divided into segments – 3/3/3 – three days of one kind of therapy, followed by three days of another, etc. I’m sure it will become clearer to me as I go along.

Drats! It’s only been a little over an hour since I’ve consumed the ghee and I’m feeling some hunger pangs. I’ll turn my attention elsewhere, and conclude my Day Two report. ‘Til tomorrow, then.

It’s ironic that I first came to India to study and receive, yet it has taken me five journeys before finally embarking on a course of treatment.

My educational background is in nutrition and wholistic healing. Discovering Ayurveda, one of the oldest systems of healing in the world, revolutionized my knowledge in wellness and healthcare. After completing a correspondence course with Dr. David Frawley, learning the fundamentals of Ayur (Life) Veda (Science), I decided I wanted to learn how to administer pancha karma (five therapies).

I set out to find a doctor that I could apprentice with in India, discovering a website for a clinic in Jaipur. I contacted the Doctor (Vaidya) of the clinic and asked if he would be willing to teach me. I was to be his first student. My intention was to study with him for three months and then go home and open a clinic offering, among other therapies, pancha karma.

Daily 1:1 instruction was provided by the doctor. I wrote articles for his online newsletter. I also counseled his (English-speaking) patients who were receiving treatment for weight loss. Unfortunately, the thing that I most wanted to learn, pancha karma, was difficult to obtain because few patients had the financial means for it. The patients who were in need of more comprehensive treatment then herbal therapies could provide came for the therapy, but it was an insufficient few, not allowing me the opportunity to learn enough so that I could practice it back home.

I received a few treatments at the clinic, but one has to undergo several treatments to clear the years of accumulated toxins (ama) from the body. I left the apprenticeship after six weeks, disenchanted with the lack of opportunity to study, and also with the decision that I was no longer interested in working in the field of healthcare. This came as a great surprise to me; I had devoted many years of education and service to a vocation that I had felt passionate about.

It was my son’s ADHD that sparked my interest in nutrition. Once I saw the potent effect that his diet had on his behavior we adopted new eating habits and I embarked on a nutritional and herbal healing course. I was sure that everyone I knew would be interested in my newfound knowledge of how our diets shape our health and behavior, but few were. Our attachment to food is primal. And many of our food choices arise from an addiction to them. I found that suggesting a change in eating patterns was like trying to take food from the mouth of a dog. Nearly impossible.

Still, my determination kept me active in the healing field for many years. My primary interest was in the field of addiction. I apprenticed for one year at a addiction facility, opening my own clinic afterwards, with an emphasis on healing addictive disorders with diet, nutritional supplementation, and amino acid therapy. I also worked with mental health issues, ADHD, and immune system disorders. My clinic name was “Real Recovery”, as opposed to the sort I saw in the facility where I had worked that placed zero emphasis on diet, that knew nothing about the biochemistry of addiction beyond prescribing anti-anxiety, anti-depressant drugs in a sloppy effort to balance the brain to quell the addictive tendencies. While working in the Detox unit of the addiction clinic, I’d watch patients raid the candy machine, using sugar as a substitute for the drug they were withdrawing from. The nursing, nor counseling staff, had a clue how sugar, one of the most addictive, seemingly innocuous substances, was keeping the patient’s addiction alive.

While idling away my days in the Chakrapani Clinic – there were big chunks of time where there was nothing to do – it occurred to me that I was no longer interested in healthcare. Just like that, the thought arrived. It was India, I’m sure. That beckoned me here, that opened my eyes to a new world, that changed my course. The incongruency of counseling affluent obese women about their food choices when outside the clinic were outstretched hands begging for rations bothered me. Seeing the doctor with his patients, an obtrusive desk separating him from them as he prescribed the herbal medicine that his assistants made in the clinic, also bothered me. Despite it being herbal, it was still an allopathic approach; healing requires a multi-tiered and comprehensive program. But I also understood that most patients had little time or desire for anything other than palliative treatment.

So, I walked away. From the clinic and from my profession. With the realization that the malnourishment we suffer, whether overweight or starving, is much deeper than our physical body. Food is social. What we eat. How we eat. How much. How little. I had decided that working with social issues held more appeal, had more importance, than trying to convince someone to change their eating habits. And I wanted to learn about this source of malnourishment. Why and how. Why do we allow our fellow human beings to go hungry? Why do we fill our body-temples with junk food? How does starvation claim lives when there exists wanton wastage of food? These questions I find deeply troubling, especially now, with the world on the brink of a massive food scarcity.

CNN televised a program a few days ago entitled: Global Food Crisis. People in Africa are dying in food riots, unable to afford the spiraling costs of their staples, namely rice, while gluttonous Americans, and now middle class Chinese and Indians, are consuming more meat, more food. In light of this disaster, vegetarianism ought to be compulsory. Not by force, but by compassion. The amount of resources that meat demands pilfers food from those who have none. Even reducing meat consumption would free up ample amounts of resources, alleviating starvation that claims 20,000 lives a day.

I’ll be eating little food in the next 12 days while doing pancha karma. This semi-fast will allow my organs a chance to rest, so that the treatment can help me let go of impurities (physical and mental) towards rejuvenation of body and mind. Pancha karma is about letting go, of the ama that poisons the system. While cleansing and fasting I will muse and meditate on what I need to dispel from my life, what holds me back and suspends and blinds me.

Bhagsu is the ideal place to do pancha karma. From my hotel window is a stunning view of forested hills, a snow-covered mountain peaking from the ridgeline, and beautiful long tailed blue-birds flitting from tree-to-tree in graceful flight. In the distance the click-clack of chisels breaking boulders down, a sound that begins with daybreak. I find it strangely soothing. It’s the pace, the antiquity of the method, the elongated time it will take. As opposed to the impatient hurriedness of the worlds which are consumed with the economic growth factor, with earning power, and the maddening pace they demand.

In this place I am in the company of good friends who are supportive of me, of my healing process. Laughing at the faces I make when showing how my ghee laden stomach feels, keeping tabs on me, making sure I’m doing alright. The people of Bhagsu have time for that. Life moves at a natural, peaceful rhythm allowing ample time for one another. That’s what the world needs more of. It’s the ultimate source of nourishment that assures that no one will go hungry, that each of us matters, that we are cared for and loved. A satiation born of compassion and the down-to-earth goodness that I have found in the people of Bhagsu.


Pancha Karma @ Sibi’s

I set out to write this to give a review of sorts on the pancha karma treatment that I am receiving from Sibi. I’ve met a few people here, a woman during my last visit, and one who is here now, back for another course, that tell me that the treatment that have received from Sibi allowed their bodies to heal from major health challenges. I don’t have anything major I’m working on, but neither should we wait for that before embarking on cleansing treatments. And pancha karma is something that everyone would benefit from; it’s purpose to clear accumulated toxins that increase with time and age.

Before deciding to go with Sibi for pancha karma (there is another, new, clinic here which I also checked out), I looked online to see if anyone had written of their experiences. I found nothing, so am going to offer this, to give potential pancha karma patients something that may be a helpful deciding factor. Follow me, on my healing journey ;)

Sibi’s colleague did my ayurvedic consultation asking me a series of questions that are used to determine my dosha or constitution. I’m predominately Vata (air), though have some Pitta (fire) influence as well. The doctor coined me as Pitta-Vata, with Pitta as predominant. Most doctors, including the one that I apprenticed with in Jaipur, have diagnosed me the same. But, knowing myself as intimately as I do, and my knowledge of the system of Ayurveda, I know that I have a lot more air than fire. I often wished I had more fire. I’d have more energy and stamina to accomplish the myriad ideas that my airy mind conjures up. I’d have the vital agni (heat) to adequately digest my food, vital for good health. I wouldn’t get a bloated (airy) belly after eating.

What I do have is a Pitta imbalance, too much undirected heat in my blood. Which is causing some skin problems, one of my main health issues. So, being diagnosed as Pitta predominate does not cause me much alarm with re to the healing route the doctor will take, since one of the goals will be to reduce Pitta. And Vata.

Vata is greatly deranged (imbalanced) with travel. The constant movement (air) causes problems in the colon, where Vata is seated, resulting in digestive upset and distress. It’s common among travelers. As soon as I land in India I get an Ayurvedic massage. The oil helps calm and ground Vata, which is easily distempered.

The pancha karma treatment at Sibi’s begins with ghee (clarified butter). It helps in internal lubrication towards elimination of toxins. Three to seven days of ghee. I chose three. Followed by a minimum of nine days and up to 4 weeks of eliminative therapies. I’ll be doing nine days. The therapies will provide more lubrication with oil massages, and steam to help remove the ama from my srotas (channels).

During treatment food is limited to rice and mung dhal, both easily digested and nourishing. And boring. The lack of food, and variety, gives rise to some anxiety, but I’m committed to the process which I know will help purge me of poisonous parasitic toxins.

DAY ONE

Curiously, I was shielded with a makeshift gauze blindfold. And then bits of gauze were inserted into each nostril. One of the attendants put a plastic cup into my hand and brought it to my mouth. It was the ghee. It took me about two-and-a-half swallows to finish. It wasn’t too bad, but the amount will be increased by 20 percent tomorrow, followed by 40 percent the third day.

The empty cup was taken from my hand and replaced with a glass of hot water. As I started drinking, the blindfold, and the gauze from my nostrils was removed. The attendants – Usha and Bessy – asked if I was alright, Bessy reassuringly rubbing my back. The ghee can cause gagging and nausea, but not with me, yet.

I was then presented with a small silver plate of golden raisins; they would help with the aftertaste of the unctuous ghee. I’ve read that golden raisins are that color because they are sulphured. I’m not sure. I’ll have to research that.

It’s been nearly five hours since I took the ghee. I’ve been drinking warm water consistently and have been instructed to go to the clinic for food when extreme hunger sets in. The rice and dhal will be watery the first three days. Sounds appetizing… but I remind myself that it is what many families with limited resources eat everyday. A little bit of rice and lentils with a lot of water to help stretch the meal to fill many hungry stomachs.

Dancing Free

Agra is on the itinerary of many tourists who visit India. Home to one of the Seven Wonders of the World, the Taj Mahal draws countless crowds to its unparalleled magnificence. Despite having visited the mausoleum four times – twice in the last several weeks accompanying first my sister and then with friends – I’ve yet to feel satiated by the splendor of this monument of love. Built by Shah Jahan to honor his favorite wife after her death, I think his touching testament, to a large degree, is what swoons us when in the presence of this mystical palace.

Not far from the Taj is another testament of love. Though this one, for me, is even more monumental – The Agra Bear Rescue Facility. After reading about their rescue of “dancing” bears, I scheduled a visit to meet with them to learn more about their work in an effort to help raise awareness.

The first time I visited Agra I witnessed the dance of a bear who was made to perform as soon as the kalandar, its trainer, saw our van approaching. He swiftly tugged the bear up from its sitting position forcing it to stand on its hind legs to dance for us. I was glad that our driver did not ask if we wanted to stop, watch, photograph, and pay the kalandar for the bear’s feat. The exhausted looking bear, struggling to stand fast enough for the likes of its master, dropped down apathetically when the man pulling on its rope like a puppet on a string, realized he wouldn’t be getting any money from us. Despite the briefness of the sickening display, it lasted long enough to indelibly etch the incident into my mind.

Fortunately, with the tightening laws – thanks to the work of Wildlife S.O.S. in collaboration with the Government of India and the Uttar Pradesh Forest Department – dancing bears are seldom seen by tourists anymore. The three-century history of the dancing bear can be traced to the Mughal empire where they were used to entertain royalty. Of the some 1200 bears still being used to “entertain”, most of them are being toured through villages where locals are fed superstitions about them. Their fur, taken from the bears to make and sell rings, is assured to bring the wearer good luck.

I met with Dr. Raja, one of the veterinary doctors who works at the Wildlife S.O.S Agra Bear Rescue Facility. While walking around the sanctuary and seeing the rescued bears at play, he spoke about the exploitation that they’ve suffered and what they are doing to rehabilitate them.

The first bear we encountered was Laloo Maharaj. A serene bear with sad eyes and a silvering muzzle, he was the only one that I was given permission to photograph. The others, Dr. Raja informed, would associate my camera with their days of performing, causing them anxiety and stress. Eighteen year-old Laloo, the oldest bear at the facility and one of the first to be rescued, has his own private quarters, preferring to be on his own. His snout retains his painful past, a scarred hole where he was commanded from a short, coarse rope.

The muzzle of the bear cubs – who are kidnapped from their mothers when less than a month old – is pierced with a red hot poker where the rope is passed through. The life of a dancing bear is controlled from the length of that rope, generally only four feet long. The muzzle is re-pierced on a regular basis to keep the wound fresh, never allowing it to seal.

Tribals are paid to help the poachers steal the cubs from their mothers. The cub’s mothers are often killed in the process. Eighty percent of the poached cubs die before six months of age. The male cubs, once in custody of the kalandar, are crudely castrated with a razor; no anesthetic is used. Many die after castration due to trauma and from septic wounds.

I kneeled down to get closer to Laloo, feeling the prick of the solar-powered electric fence that separated us. I spoke softly to him, reassuring him what I’m sure he knew, that he was safe now, never to be abused again. The story of his past, reflected in his sorrowful eyes, still troubles me, but I am relieved in knowing the exceptional care that Maharaj is receiving at the sanctuary.

There are three other bear facilities, in Bangalore, Bhopal and West Bengal. Agra is a lifetime facility; to date they have rescued 469 Dancing Bears. Happily, of those cubs living in Agra, 12 of them were rescued from poachers before they were made to perform. Ten others, housed together on their own, were not so fortunate. They are blind, either from their imprisoning rope being pulled across their eyes or from the lashings they received with sticks that struck their eyes.

Another group of younger and more lively bears seemed nearly oblivious to their past, merrily roughhousing, shaking trees, and enjoying their freedom. One of the bears was weaving back and forth, stereotypic behavior leftover from its dancing days. For this condition the staff is using enrichments that mimic the bear’s natural habitat to help re-pattern and stimulate their brain.

When the bears first arrive the sanctuary they are given from one week to ten days to relax and adjust. This period is needed to allow them to feel safe and to help build trust with their keepers. The first goal is to make them comfortable. Once this is established the rope from their nose will be removed and their wounds cleansed to begin the healing process. They are quarantined for a period of three months. The cubs that are brought to the facility are put into a special area in which their natural habitat has been recreated. They receive their nourishment from a kitten milk replacement formula.

The next step is a comprehensive health checkup in which the bears receive an examination of their teeth, muzzle, eyes, claws, and reproductive system. Their canine and incisor teeth are often damaged and broken by the chisel and hammer used to try and remove them. Most of the bears have infection in their teeth which prevents them from eating, leading to death by starvation. Many have not been properly fed and have had to scavenge for food. Dr. Raja showed me jars containing objects that have been extracted from the intestines of the bears, including cigarette butts, garbage, worms, and hairballs. Another common problem seen in the bears is with their peritoneum/abdominal cavity muscles. When they jump up to dance all of their weight must be supported by their hind legs putting excessive pressure on their abdominal muscles.

An important part of the work of Wildlife S.O.S. is in the rehabilitation of the kalandars. For their peaceful surrender of the bear, a generous rehabilitation package of start up funds amounting to 50,000 rupees (approx. 1250.00 US) is offered, allowing them to start a new, legal livelihood. Wildlife S.O.S. helps in the facilitation and monitoring of their training, pays for the education of the kalandar’s children (assisting with school fees, uniforms, text books, et cetera, totaling about 2000.00 US), and helps the women receive vocational guidance (weaving and sewing skills) towards self-sufficiency for the entire family. Kalandars can choose new professions such as rickshaw drivers, grocers, tea shop wallahs, tailors, welder-fabricators, kabadi wallahs, and carpet weavers. Eighteen former kalandars are employed at the Agra Bear Facility.

As we were leaving the sanctuary a group of enthusiastic school children were arriving. Education is a paramount tool in teaching that bears are not for our entertainment value and using them in this manner causes them to suffer dreadfully. In our knowledge of this we can do our part towards the complete eradication of the problem.

To learn more about the rescue of the bears, as well as Wildlife SOS’s work with several other species of animals, visit their website at Wildlife S.O.S. Or, if you’re making a trip to Agra, consider putting them on your itinerary. Your donations will help in the rescue of the bears that are still at large, and support the continued care of those who are now living their lives in the tranquility of the Agra Bear Rescue Facility. Also check out The Last Dance a short video from the Discovery channel on the plight of the dancing bears.

Donations can be made online through the Wildlife S.O.S. website, or by personal check or bank draft sent to:

Wildlife S.O.S – India
D-210, Defence Colony
New Delhi, India-110024
wsos@vsnl.com; info@wildlifesos.org

Wildlife S.O.S – USA
406 E. 300 S #302
Salt Lake City, Utah-84111
info@wildlifesosusa.org

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