Kashish: what's the attraction? (the full story)
Kashish Yoga Goa
What they offered:
12 days of learning, 100 hours certificate in Aerial and Yin yoga with lectures in Anatomy and Philosophy, and a daily meditation practice, starting at 4pm on March 16th with an orientation and opening ceremony, and ending off on the morning of the 27th with a graduation ceremony at 9am.
"Kashish means attraction"
"Your spiritual journey starts here."
"We simply believe only in one word, that is, TRANSFORMATION. Whether you join to become a yoga teacher or to deepen your practice or you want to just experience yoga, we are committed to bring about a transformation within you."
Disclaimer: this is not a review, this is just a story about my experience
What actually happened:
We arrived in Goa a few days early, to acclimatise and spend a few days chilling on the beach before diving head first into a busy program, which would be starting at 6.30 each day. Generally, these courses are residential or have a nearby dormitory, but to save money and have some independence, we chose to rent a beach shack just less than 2km away and scoot in on our rented moped. Dwayne went the day before to make sure we had the right place, as it was not marked at all from the road, and was down a random dirt track behind a host of abandoned buildings. They confirmed that it was indeed the place and we should arrive the next day (a Saturday) for “orientation.”
In spite of the terrible facade of dilapidated sheds, on the other side of the sheet-metal fence was a beautiful oasis, featuring 4 yoga shalas, a swimming pool, hammocks strung up between the palm trees and little shaded wooden sitting areas. As we arrived, we were told that the Yin class that had been scheduled for us at 4pm would in fact be a bit later, due to the fact that several people (including the teacher) had not arrived, but we were welcome to relax and get comfortable in our surroundings. The general impression was of very tanned and toned individuals parading around in their finest brand name yoga gear while loudly discussing the degree of their own enlightenment to any willing audience. On the plus side, there were kittens. Less than 10 minutes later, while we were attempting to relax by doing some asana in the shala, we were ushered into the office to confirm that we had indeed registered and paid, and fill in all the indemnities and disclaimers that said they were entitled to kick us out if we disobeyed the code of conduct - which included everything from disagreeing with the teachers to drug consumption. Eventually, with only 4 out of 9 people present, we had our Yin class, and were duly told that that was it for the day and Sundays are a day off, so we were free to go and need not come back until Monday morning, dressed in white. This was a mild annoyance, as we had neither packed nor budgeted for a white outfit. “Don't worry,” we were assured, “it's all really cheap in the market.” Hold up - did you just assume my financial status? This was the first of many times that our exchange rate would be assumed to be equivalent to that of the (mostly) European and American visitors. Needless to say, it's not.
We did our best to pretend that the first day hadn't been disappointing and spent the next day haggling over white clothes in the marketplace. When Monday morning arrived, about 30 nervous looking, ivory-clad aspirants shuffled into one of the shalas, had a red string tied around the wrist (Shiva's protection), a red dot thumbed onto the forehead and an orange garland strung around the neck. Then began the torturous ritual of introductions: please state your name, country and what makes you happy. Literally everyone apparently finds happiness in travelling, doing yoga and meeting new people. Being the facetious clever-dick that I am, I decided to break the monotony by answering “what makes me happy” with the simple answer: “serotonin and dopamine,” thankfully eliciting a laugh from the group. With awkward introductions out of the way, we took part in a simple meditation, in which we were encouraged to speak to our parents, our friends and family, and let them know that we had arrived safely in India and to ask for their blessings. Surprisingly this was quite an emotional experience for me, as I clearly heard my (late) dad laughing, and saying as only he could say: “Oooh, you want blessings do you?” and when we opened our eyes to gaze into the palms of our hands, I saw his silhouette and tears pooled in my eyes. Thus, our opening ceremony was concluded, and were at liberty to dress in some far more practical clothes and rummage through our welcome packs.
Our schedule was displayed in a shala that was dedicated to the Yin and Aerial program. There would be two sequenced classes a day (one Aerial, one Yin) as well alternating “Asana Clinics” which would break down the alignment and adjustment of the postures for both styles. In addition to the practical classes, we also had theory classes featuring philosophy and anatomy lectures. Our practical teacher was a bubbly little Australian called Suzie, who was possessed of whimsical style and the most spaced-out yoga teacher voice I have ever heard. It seemed cliché at first, but the more I got to know her, the more I realised it was really just her, and I loved her for it. The philosophy teacher was an ex-Bollywood choreographer and all-round funny guy called Konty, who told us he firmly believes he's an alien. With him we received a basic introduction to the lineage of Yoga and a summary of the must-know Vedic and classical literature. Due to the first absence of our Anatomy teacher, we got a bonus lecture with Konty on bandhas and how to integrate them. When our Anatomy lecturer was absent the second time (due to a cobra-related fiasco at the hostel), Dwayne volunteered to give a lecture on the sacroiliac joint, a part of the body that is often overlooked when administering adjustments to practitioners, resulting in a hard-to-diagnose injury from which multiple complications can arise.
In the first few days of the course, Dwayne and I chose to listen and observe quietly, even if we disagreed with some of the information being presented, however, another participant of the course had taken it upon herself to interject at any opportunity – not to present any useful information, simply to talk about herself. At first I thought my annoyance was perhaps a result of my own ego, perhaps I felt challenged by her experience as a teacher, but closer analysis revealed that it was simply a case of empty vessels making the most noise, as a lot of what she was saying was not only eye-rollingly irrelevant, but also completely incorrect. It was at this point that Dwayne decided to bring his expertise as an exercise scientist to the party, not only correcting the outspoken yogi, but even occasionally gently advising the teacher, who unlike our vocal friend, was very receptive and didn't seem to mind having the extra input. By week two, every time someone questioned the alignment or physiology involved in a pose, Suzie would cock an eyebrow in our direction and say "Dwayne...?"
Now let it be clear that we have no intent to undermine the wisdom of our teacher, it's simply that it feels necessary after a certain point to stop the propagation of potentially harmful practices. Not every alignment cue works for every body and sometimes we do the wrong things with the right intentions. Suzie is a brilliant yoga teacher and I was inspired not only by her specialised knowledge, but by her infectious loveliness and sweet yet strong demeanour. What was great was that in the Yin classes we actually heard about energy, meridians and the metaphysical implications of yoga. In Aerial we covered everything from using the hammock as a prop in standing flows, to wrapping ourselves up bondage-style and dangling from the rafters. It's just about awareness - many yoga teachers I've met, in spite of coming from dance and movement backgrounds and having experienced plenty of injuries themselves, still have insufficient knowledge of what makes the physical practice of asana not just safe, but foolproof. In teacher training programs, we are given basic explanations of the musculoskeletal system, general contraindications for poses and a few techniques to avoid obvious injury, but only an in-depth knowledge of exercise science can give you the insight needed to guarantee that your students are performing asana in the safest and most effective way. Dwayne and I have dedicated ourselves to the pursuit of this knowledge, wanting to ensure that even the most outcome-driven students are incapable of doing themselves damage in our classes. In regard to this, I suppose our standards are exceptionally high and very few institutions would be capable of impressing us. It may sound arrogant, but hey, in they end they did ask us if we would stick around and teach for the rest of the season! When we finally managed to secure our anatomy teacher for a couple of lectures (not before Dwayne had filled in a second time to explain how energy is produced in the body) it turned out to be not so much anatomy as yoga therapy – a delight to me, a disappointment to some others. The final Anatomy lecture turned out to be about mudras and their functions, which again led to a few complaints from other students, but I was more than happy to have this information. There is only so much you can expect from a 100 hour program.
What you CAN expect is tiny classmates and to be thoroughly exhausted from doing 4+ hours a day of asana in 38 degrees, and still expected to listen to lectures.
After completing our assessments, for which I received truly lovely feedback and affirmation that yin yoga is indeed my speciality, we graduated not on the morning of the 27th as expected, but on the evening of the 26th. So...not so much 12 days, as 8. Overall, I would say the school needs to be more specific about who this course is for (and to not do what every school seems to do which is way oversell itself.) If it is for newcomers, there needs to be more focus on safe alignment and actual anatomy classes, and if it is for those already having basic training, then the philosophy needs to be more advanced. Some of the students from the 200 hour program also felt that there wasn't enough specific information in their course about how to perform the asanas safely, and that many people were certified without having fully grasped some of the concepts or indeed attending all of the lectures. In truth, I skipped all but 3 of the meditation classes, as many of them involved baijan – music, mantra and a lot of happy-clapping - which dissolved into freestyle dancing, which descended into hotpants twerking on the pillars accompanied by hysterical shrieking. The food was pretty good, although occasionally monotonous and a little bit of an assault on the Western digestive system at first. It was by no means a traditional yoga ashram, but if you know what to expect and it's what you want, Kashish Yoga is actually a really fun place to go and hang out. You will come home with a few new friends in your heart, a lot of information, a seriously strong and bendy body and no doubt a certificate to prove you were there.
My personal highlight, other than eyeballing the twerkers as I backed slowly out of the meditation hall, was being interrupted mid-conversation by a heavily bleached and made-up student from a different program, to be told that I had just called a posture by the wrong name. I casually explained that in the Tantra school I'd been at before, they used a few different names for the asana. In response to this, she venomously spat “Well this isn't tantra, it's YOGA!” I blinked in shock a few times and then nodded and smiled at the woman who I had literally never seen before that moment and decided to let her learn in her own time that yoga is in fact a practice that emerged and developed inextricably from Tantra. Ahh, good times. Om shanti.