Yoga in Rwanda

Ive been teaching 8-10 classes a week. A We-Actx driver comes and picks Hanna, my co-teacher and I up and takes us to various places venues around Kigali where we hold the yoga classes - spaces in clinics, local community halls, etc. Co-teaching has been an interesting and, at times, challenging experience. Hannah and I have been gradually synchronising our ideas and methods of teaching, drawing on strengths, supporting weaknesses and slowly finding a pattern that works for both of us. On the whole Hannah talks through the classes while I give adjustements and direct the poses and flow of the class, suggesting modifications as needed. Of all the classes I’ve been teaching with the We-Actx-yoga programme, the following have been my three favourites.

The Inyange Girls Yoga Group

Inyange is the name of a bird that can be found near cows - and sometimes water - and is the name that has been chosen for the teenage girls group I have been teaching for the last two and a half months. In Rwandan culture, Inyange signifies purity, good nature and a welcoming demeanour. Inyange is the image painted by the traditional Rwandan dancer; simple and genuine, graceful and light, with arms spread like wings. Adding the tools of yoga to this cultural sensibility has created a healthy bag of tricks to support the young girls through puberty and beyond.

The project director and coordinator was particularly keen for us to start this new group for teenage girls in order to support their physical health and strength and to bolster confidence and self-esteem. Not least so they have a better chance of warding off any unwanted sexual advances that might come their way. I was sad to have to stop teaching the children’s yoga group - they are joyful bundles of love and immense fun to teach. Hannah now teaches this group, sometimes with the help of interns or volunteers who often go to the children’s class to hang out with the little ones and share in the love. Meanwhile I have had the pleasure of starting up the new group for teenage girls and have been focusing on Astanga sun salutations and standing poses. A few of them have done yoga before but all are taking to the practice like fish to water. They work well, with enthusiasm and commitment and are improving steadily.

Clara shone out as a natural leader and soon became my assistant. When I arrive for class she comes straight up to greet me, takes out the yoga mats and calls the other girls to get ready. I invited her to join another group we teach on Mondays so she could progress a little faster than the others. She brought two friends along, Natalie and Anna, so I now have 3 assistants under my wing.

All of the girls are HIV+ and a few of them are orphans, cared for by older siblings or relatives. The girls who live with their families are happier and more emotionally stable than those who have been taken in by members of the community. A couple of them had been very depressed since discovering their HIV+ status and one girl used to sit near her counsellor every time they met and cry. When asked why she was crying, she said it was because the counsellor reminded her of her mother. Another of the girls was so despondent she didn’t want to wash or have water on her skin. Now with guidance and support from the counsellor and regular yoga classes, both are much happier and have a stronger mental state.

I talked to them a couple of weeks ago about how they were finding the yoga, what profession they’d like to pursue and to demonstrate their favourite yoga pose. Here are some of their responses: -

“Feel well. I have better moral and no longer feel unhappy. My mind is calmer and my thinking is settled. I want to be a translator.” Mary demonstrated forward bend.

“I feel more healthy. I want to be a doctor”. Fatima demonstrated Triangle pose.

“ I feel a change in my body. My bones and body feel stronger, I feel healthy. I want to be a doctor and to teach yoga.” Amanda demonstrated Side Angle pose.

“I no longer feel my bones twisting. My body feels stronger. I want to be a musician.” Sandra demonstrated the dancer pose.

“I used to have aching muscles, not so much now. My chest pain is reduced. I want to become a nurse.” Na’weh demonstrated Chair pose.

Hearing this feedback from the girls was music to my ears and encouraged the idea I had of training up my assistants to talk through Sun Salutation A and B and a few standing poses, so that the group could keep going through the month of September while the yoga programme is suspended. Two new teachers arrive in October.

Last Sunday I got each of the assistants to talk through Sun Salutation (Surya Namaskar) A with the whole group. They all did extremely well, showing variations in confidence in speaking out and leading the group. Clara was most confident in her delivery and had an inventive use of language - I learned some new phrases that I can add to the ‘Kinyarwanda for Yoga’ notes Hanna and I are compiling as a teaching aid for future volunteers. Salima had the firmest grasp on the sequence, was very clear in her instructions and kept a good eye on the group. She got the group to count the five breaths during Downward Dog in English! Anna was the most shy in her delivery but nevertheless gave a fine example of rising to the challenge of steering the group and moved through determinedly despite others trying to take the reins from her. Where one of the assistants forgot to remind the others to lengthen through the spine, she remembered to draw attention to the breath. Where another was not so strong in her voice projection, she was good at keeping an eye on the group and reminding them with “ fatanya ibirenge”(feet together) and “rambura ibirenge” (toes pointed). Between the three of them I am confident they will keep their group going until the new teachers arrive. It was a joy to see and praise their strengths and support them when they faltered. After this, other girls shot their hands up, wanting to lead the group. “Teacher? Me, me!” So we did one last round with them all talking through together.

Ineza

Another class I do is at the Ineza sewing co-op on Wednesdays and Fridays. The group has been doing yoga for a couple of years and they are very competent. We arrive at 3pm and wait a while for them to wind up their sewing for the day, move the machines to one side, sweep the floor and get their kit on, while laughing, joking, bickering and making fun of each other. The group is of mixed ability, some strong and agile while others have limited mobility, largely as a result of injuries sustained during the Genocide years. One woman wears a leg brace as a result of Polio, another has limited movement because of scar tissue on her back, and a few of the women have limited movement in shoulders, hips and ankles. The group have appreciated getting a few more modifications so that the less able ones can also join in and feel integrated into the group.

The Ineza group are so deeply bonded and take such good care of each other that being witness to this has been an education in itself. I have slowly got to know them as individuals - their sense of humour, physical idiosyncrasies and other foibles - and slowly became comfortable and confident enough to joke and lark around with them. Hanna and I have danced, sang songs and exchanged bits of information about our families and personal lives. I’ve painted their nails, bought a few of their products and helped cut cloth for items they are making. They have made me a pair of trousers and customized products, shared fragments of their stories and marveled at my dreadlocks, incredulous to the fact that they are real and not extensions. We have hugged and kissed and taken hundreds of photos. We are a yoga family and we will all be sad to leave each other. The women find this 3-month changeover difficult - just as they get to really know, trust and love the teachers, the teachers leave - again and again.

At a recent meeting, one of the group members asked if teachers could stay for longer. We explained that we would love to stay longer and that, as much as we have enjoyed working with them, we have family and jobs/ studies to get back to. Of course, the group understood but still they had to ask. They told us a story of when they were offered sewing training from We-Actx a while ago. The training was to take place in a town a few hours away from Kigali and would run for 2 weeks. They discussed and discussed who would make up the delegation to receive the training and bring it back to the group. In the end, no one was willing to go because they didn’t want to leave their families for two weeks. The separation after the bonding is a sad part of the process that all volunteers and the groups we teach have to go through. Still, we all have photos, memories and stories to share.

Nyabugogo

The last group I want to talk about is the Nyabugogo group. With this group, play is a big part of the practice. The group has a counseling session first, during which they share problems, worries, stories and news. We sit with them, listening and watching, not understanding what is being said as each woman takes her turn. We 'hear' their bodies speak and the tone of their voices recount their experiences. Sometimes they cry. The whole group is enveloped by the sorrow but there is a sense of lightness too. We are all held by deep love until the one with tears feels calm enough and ready for the next woman to talk. All tears are heard - the understanding of the counsellor and the empathy and kindness of the group is inspiring and supports the women when in distress.

When the circle is complete we can start the yoga. Not everyone practices every week. Some feel too tired or weak so they sit against the wall to rest and watch, but nevertheless enlivened by the yoga activity and energy. Slowly, coaxing the women into a place of movement, we warm up, moving away from the sadness to slowly enter into the breath and body as a place of fun, discovery and healing. Children join in too, and if the woman with newborn twins is there, she sometimes hands her babies to the resting women so she can also join in. It is a pleasure to see sheer surprise on the women’s faces when they find something new. Sometimes awkward or a little shy or embarrassed; they seem to be discovering their bodies for the first time. I imagine they are marveling at the unknown, untapped wonder of their multilayered physical, emotional and mental being - delighted to be alive.

We play with the sun salutation sequence, make mandalas with standing poses and have fun with balances. We teach poses that incorporate eye gazing and mirroring, poses that build stamina, challenge coordination and get the group smiling. We are constantly reading the group, modifying and adjusting them as required. On the floor we rock and roll the spine, hold poses for longer and slowly move back to stillness. By the end of a class we have moved through all the sadness, physical discomfort and worry. The heart is salved, the body is bolstered the mind calmed and laughter has soothed our souls. We all leave feeling happy, together, loved and looking forward to the next week.

Amafaranga (money) and Yoga

Money for Yoga - Yoga for Money

A few weeks ago I taught an extended yoga class at Heaven- an outdoor café in my neighbourhood, Kiouvu, with a beautiful view overlooking the city. I had wanted to do a 108 Sun Salutations event, like the one I did in London that raised money for this trip. The Kigali yoga community was not ready for that so I taught a Yin-Yang yoga session instead: the first of its kind in this city.

The event came about because several people who come to my weekly class at the US Embassy had asked if I could teach on Saturdays. Also, previous We-actx yoga volunteers had been in conversation with the venue about starting up classes. Not wanting to commit to a weekly class, I approached the manager at Heaven Café, Sara, to discuss the possibility of the venue hosting an extended yoga class every few weeks to raise funds for We-actx yoga. She agreed. We set a date, fixed the price and put the word out; hoping people would sign up.

In discussions about pricing the event, Sara had said there might be resistance if the price was too high, people being used to things being a little cheaper. There were mutterings in the yoga community, which at the moment is pretty much made up of expatriate NGO employees, that the price of RF10,000 (approx $18 or £10) was too high. I stuck to my guns, kept putting the word out and waited to see what would happen.

20 odd people signed up and 15 came along, including a few We-actx volunteers. The event was a success. It was a pleasure to teach and those who attended felt unquantifiably better in body and mind and said they would most definitely attend future yoga fundraising events. We raised RF120, 000 (approx $200). Another session was scheduled for mid August and I hope future teachers will keep this modest income generating event going.

I have also been asked several times by Rwandans (outside of We-actx’s remit) where they can go to learn yoga. At RF5, 000, the weekly class I teach at the US Embassy is too expensive for lower waged folk. I’m looking into where I might be able to teach a regular class, at an affordable price for the less well off Rwandan public in Kigali. In spite of the scepticism I have encountered in relation to yoga now and again (yoga being un-Christian, aligned to sorcery etc.), there does seem to be a growing interest. Daddy, owner of Torero Cafe in Kigali is thinking about hosting a free taster sessions in the back room of the venue. There is not much time for this opportunity to come to fruition but its good to at least plant the seed. Much like yoga volunteers did at Heaven.

I have been thinking a lot about money in relation to yoga as professional work and my expectations around both. This is obviously a big and complex subject which at ground level is affecting my voluntary experience in ways that make me want to review my work values, expectations of payment and money in relation to yoga.

On the one hand, I have experienced expats shying away from paying what I would consider to be a fair price for a yoga class they would have to pay a lot more for at home. Wanting to pay a teacher RF5, 000 (approx, $9.00, £5.50 or €6.32) for a one hour private one-to-one session seems untenable. Even though Kigali is one of the most expensive African cities - food and rent are not at all cheap - expats generally earn a handsome wage and have a comfortable lifestyle to compensate for living so far away from home. A smoothie in Bourbon café (the Starbucks equivalent in Kigali), will set you back RF3, 500 (£3.50). It’s a bit pricey, but those who can happily pay for the pleasure and the convenience do.

As a yoga volunteer, I am here to give free yoga classes to We-actx service users: HIV+ genocide rape survivors and their children and the medical/administrative staff. The former have very little income and the latter are better off but on the whole earn much less than the average expat. I teach them all willingly and with a real sense of joy. When I teach yoga to the relatively wealthy expatriate western community, I find I have an expectation of payment aligned to my skills and training. So, although I also teach my expat clientele with a sense of joy, I have found myself on occassion challenged around the issue of payment and needing to renegotiate fees. Here I meet the thorny issue of yoga and money head on.

Yoga texts such as the Bhagavad Gita, advise us to think not of the fruits of our labour and to give from the heart with love, in the spirit of true Karma yoga. This seems effortless when teaching We-actx service users and staff but more challenging when teaching people who I perceive to be relatively wealthy. Why is this? My shifting sense of alignment, identification, ego, self worth, social values and self-awareness all interplay in an ongoing negotiation I have with myself and others here, each and every working day.

Money's to Tight to Mention.

Now, on the other hand, I have had numerous experiences of being asked for money by Rwandans - sick and disabled beggars on the street, children and people who are obviously not completely badly off but have much less me – who they see as a bottomless pursed ‘muzungu’ (foreigner / white person). I have many reactions and responses depending on numerous things. How much change I have, how much time I have and how present and open I am in the moment of engagement. I tend to give a few coins to children and beggars when I have change. But with opportunistic beggars, trying their hand at getting money out of a tourist/ expat, I can feel more defensive: not all people who come from the west are rich. I do not have endless resources. I am not a bank! Even though I am better off than many here. I have been asked for hard cash, clothes and books from people some of whom I know and am working with. It’s difficult to have to say no so often. But at home in London, I can find myself shutting off.

I have passed beggars by with hardly a glance. Heartlessly rejecting their encounter, preoccupied by an internal dialogue I cannot bring into the brief moment of engagement. Sometimes I connect, chat, laugh and am persuaded or feel inclined to give. At other times I simply want to enjoy meeting someone on the street without money being involved. I don’t want to feel I am buying a moment of human interaction. I don’t want to feel that the main reason people talk to me when I’m out on the street or want to befriend me is that they need or want money. But maybe it sometimes is.

Of course I have been stung a few times, paying over the odds for this and that. It happens. Soon after I got here, I asked a small favour of someone and, not yet knowing the relative value of money, over tipped wildly. I saw the look of surprise on her face and noted the split second of hesitation before she quickly took the money out of my hand before I caught on. I had not intended to give so much and felt I had been inadvertently stung (or stung myself!). On reflection, if the tables were turned, I’m sure I would probably have done the same myself and in the scheme of things it was not a huge amount of money. But there is so much more to it than money. There is the much larger personal and social context at play.

Yet another angle is the positions of NGO organisations that engage many volunteers to carry out their vital work. The days of volunteers receiving expenses (minimal) for their services are, on the whole, long gone. These days it seems to be the norm to pay to be a volunteer. Not only for travel, board and lodging costs but also a fee for the opportunity to gain experience through voluntary service. The problem with this situation is that it tends to favour those who have the financial resources (or access to people with financial resources) to pay for voluntary experience. Though of course one can always fundraise - where there is a will there is a way. Many thanks to all those who contributed to my Rwanda fund that paid for me to be here having this very life changing voluntary work experience. Discussing this over dinner this evening, all sorts of things came up: for some, the idea that volunteer work is essential for their feeling of humanity; that organisations with a high volunteer turnover are loosing people because they take them for granted, while those organisations that invest in valuing their volunteers (not necessarily through financial remuneration but sheer appreciation) enjoy joyful and dedicated service; that long term involvement in voluntary work can lead to the unhealthy belief that, in general (i.e. outside of voluntary work), it is ok to remain unpaid for services rendered over and above ones job or one is unwilling or reluctant to have to enter into negotiation to get a reasonable wage, etc.

It’s all very interesting and challenging. I mull over the knowledge that the privileges many of us enjoy in the West are often built on, cause and perpetuate poverty in other parts of the world, both currently and historically. Yet I can’t say I am not happy that my mother moved to England from Nigeria to join my father when I was almost five years old. I would have had a very different life had we stayed in Lagos. Not that I would have been more or less happy, but I would most probably have had far fewer opportunities and been raised in a much, much less materially comfortable environment.

What is it that makes expats (myself included) want to pay less? Is it just because we are in Africa and Westerners have come to expect things in Africa to be cheap (er)? Perhaps it’s something to do with our perception of Africa and Africans that are filtered though distorting lenses of colonial and postcolonial histories? Or maybe it’s that some of us know what things should cost and pride ourselves in paying the ‘right’ price – not the ‘muzungu’ price. Yet muzungu prices are an inherent part of the tourist economy, which is desirable and nationally promoted. Conversely, do people who are poor really think that everyone from the west is rich? I imagine some do and some don’t. I have an inkling that, for a good number of years, I believed all white people were rich because my father was wealthy enough to take us away from the poverty we lived in in Lagos and bring us to a relatively luxurious life in London. (Our home was in fact a modest lower middle class household). It’s a matter of perspective, experience and education among other things. And, dealing with this at ground level is not easy but a necessary part of daily life not just here in Kigali.

It is possible to be on either sides of the equation at different times. Is it possible to move beyond a binary equation and look at things more in terms of relationship? It is all so complex. We are all so fluid. Some of us are oppressors; some of us are the oppressed. Roles are reversed in different contexts. Sometimes we are so open and trusting and want to give the shirt of our back while at other times we are so mean - caught up in our own selfish desires and needs, with not a thought for the suffering of others. Then there are times when we are grounded, present and able to move from the heart and embrace others with loving kindness - here in lies the purpose for my pursuit of yoga.

There was something poetic about my fundraising experience of teaching westerners yoga and donating the proceeds to women genocide survivors and their children. We are all linked by the practice of yoga. Different kinds of resources are enlivened, redistributed, exchanged and pooled. Numerous connections and relationships are made. Women who would never practice yoga learn and become adept - availing themselves of the immeasurable healing tools that yoga has to offer. I hope some in time will become teachers themselves. Genocide rape survivors who the west forgot can perhaps feel support and care from those who rejected them. Their lives in turn give testimony to the resilience of the human spirit and our collective ability to reunite: to return to love, regain hope and delight in laughter while moving and maneuvering with patience, acceptance and dignified humility beyond hatred towards some kind of peace and forgiveness.

Day of the African Child

Sunday 21st June 2009

It’s Sunday and I have an extra day off, resting, reading and relishing the extra time on my hands.

Last Tuesday was ‘Day of the African Child’, an annual event which commemorates South African children who lost their lives protesting against poor education….

“In Soweto, South Africa, thousands of black school children took to the streets in 1976, in a march more than half a mile long, to protest the inferior quality of their education and to demand their right to be taught in their own language. Hundreds of young boys and girls were shot down; and in the two weeks of protest that followed, more than a hundred people were killed and more than a thousand were injured. To honour the memory of those killed and the courage of all those who marched, the Day of the African Child has been celebrated on 16 June every year since 1991, when it was first initiated by the Organization of African Unity. The Day also draws attention to the lives of African children today. This year's theme is the need to ensure all children are registered at birth.” UNICEF

Four years ago We-Actx chose this as the day on which to celebrate the good health, future possibilities, hopes and dreams of all the children in the We-Actx programme, linking the importance of their lives to the wider history of Africa.

All age groups, from the 4-5 year olds to the 18-20 year old young adults, worked hard for weeks preparing for the day’s celebrations. Watched by proud parents, invited guests, local government representatives and We-Actx executive, many of them displayed their diverse talents during the half day programme of music and dance performances, poetry and comedy sketches. There were speeches from the We-Actx programme directors, the giving of prizes by to those who had excelled and also a few choice words from the United Sates Ambassador to Rwanda - including a smattering of Kinyarwanda, which had everyone raising their eyebrows, impressed.

The ambassador described the children as the ’lights of Rwanda’, and asked them all to look into each other’s eyes. “Can you see the light in the eyes of the person sitting next to you?” The children ogled each other. Some smiling brightly while others had fun pulling faces; some pensive while others were confused as to what was being asked of them. He then turned to the parents and asked, ‘Do you see the light in the eyes of your children? That light is the light and hope of Rwanda: the light from the future stars of your country.” I wasn’t sure how to interpret this. It reminded me of drama exercises I used to do while doing theatre studies in Amsterdam and creative personal development workshops I did in London soon after the shock of losing one of my beloved sisters. On the one hand I felt slightly embarrassed. It was so American, so cheesy. On the other, here was a very simple technique employed to bypass the critical mind and connect to the deeper place of hope and inspiration that is a perpetual source of creativity and love in us all. This is the light that shines so brightly in children unless it is dimmed and marred by the harsh consequences of social unrest, war or, in the case of Rwanda, Genocide. Poverty, HIV infection and the attendant maladies of ill health, mal nutrition, social stigma, lack of education, the trauma of genocide and genocide rape together with that of sexual abuse etc. all combine in different ways to impede the lives of the children and families all We-Actx staff and volunteers serve. There was something very special and necessary about this day of celebration that reminded everyone just how precious each and every one of the 600 odd children present that day really is and that in the wake of so much devastation, hope lives on in the lives and dreams of all Rwanda’s children.

Speeches were followed by a slap up Rwandan lunch of rice, spinach, bean stew and or meat stew, baked potatoes, macaroni cheese and a bottle of Fanta. The children were served first and, as a few of the volunteers queued up to get food for the children, I noticed several Rwandan guests or perhaps journalists taking the opportunity to photograph ‘mzungus’ (white or rich people) serving food. It was good to meet and mingle with more of the We-Actx staff and to see many of the women I teach out in their Sunday best. Happy, proud and enjoying a little respite from the hardship of their daily lives to celebrate the good health and future hopes for their bright and beautiful children. The event made the front page of a local paper, hailed as a success all round.

Teaching
Monday 22nd June 2009

Numbers in some of the groups seemed to be a little low and after a little investigation through the group counselors, we discovered that many of the women are tired: they walk a long way in the heat of the dry season to get to the class, or they have been working for hours before the class. They are hungry and thirsty and don’t have money for food and yoga is relatively or completely new to some. Speaking with Deirdre, who was instrumental in setting up the We-Actxyoga project over a year ago and overseas all the teaching, we are beginning to understand that the yoga we offer is not just a way to exercise and relax body and mind but also an opportunity to have some fun, feel happy, elevate serotonin levels and feel loved.

As a result, Hanna (my co-teacher) and I have loosened our teaching approach considerably. Astanga yoga follows a set sequence that is repeated each time one does the yoga practice. This is both a benefit and a possible drawback. On the plus side, once the sequence is learned, one has a very well designed yoga sequence for life. The down side is that the practice can lack creativity and become a bit too serious if followed to the letter blindly. Although heavily modified, the yoga we’ve been teaching the various groups has followed the Astanga primary series sequence fairly faithfully. Letting go of adherence to the set primary sequence even further has brought change, liberating creativity and freeing us up to be more playful and spontaneous.

Yoga classes taught after the emergence of this new understanding last week were much more fun. There are fewer struggles with the language, the adjustments and the pace and more connection to joy. Rearranging the sequence a little, including in a variety of balance poses, being led by spontaneous movements women made and weaving them into asana (yoga poses), things began to flow more freely. These small changes have upped the entertainment factor in our classes, making way for more laughter, more energy, more sweat and more of the “happy” hormone, serotonin. Serotonin occurs naturally in the brain and greatly influences an overall sense of well-being. Stimulated by exercise, laughter happiness it helps to regulate moods, temper anxiety, and relieve depression. It is also credited with being a natural sleep aid. All of which will go a long way to bringing health happiness and healing the women who come to class.

The notion of yoga as performance or entertainment might seem contrary to some but its ability to unlock, release and stimulate healing in the body-mind complex is now undisputed. I feel as if I’ve turned a corner and got my yoga teaching groove back!

Grooving
Tuesday 23rd June 2009

Its now the early hours of Tuesday morning and im still buzzing from the best an most sociable weekend yet in Rwanda. This included a delicious brunch overlooking a spectacular view of Kigali with a few members of the yoga group I teach at the American Embassy; a few films shown as part of the 5th Rwandan Film Festival and a twilight hour leaving party which offered all who went from the house their first dance in Rwanda. The band played butt shaking Congolese style music that, in spite of the sporadic problems with the mic and speakers, kept us going after other guests had gone. The waiting staff and musicians and our selves the last limber occupiers of that starlit, green dance floor.

Astanga in Rwanda

Welcome to Purple Cowrie, blog of Georgina Obaya Ifoma Evans

I've started this blog to share my experiences while engaged in voluntary work in Rwanda this summer. But first a little background...

I was born in Lagos, Nigeria, and moved to London, England, before the age of five. I was educated in both cities and moved back and forth several times before finally settling in London in the early 80's. I have a professional background in visual and performance art. I studied at Camberwell School of Art- foundation studies, Goldsmiths College- BA Fine Art and Middlesex University- MA Film and Visual Cultures. I worked as a mixed media artist, taking part in exhibitions, performances and arts educational work in London and Europe for ten years before retraining as yoga teacher. I have been teaching yoga for the past six years and it is yoga that is taking me to Rwanda.

I will be going to Rwanda on the 30th May 2009 to work with WE-ACTxyoga. This project invites Astanga Yoga teachers from around the world go to Rwanda to offer 3 months' voluntary service, teaching yoga to HIV positive women and children. The project is an offshoot of the parent organisation, WE-ACTx, which has been offering healthcare and treatment to Rwandan women genocide rape survivors and their children since 2003.

When I first received an email about the WE-ACTxyoga project about a year ago, I though Hmmm! that sounds interesting. But in my busy-ness at the time with classes, workshop and what have you, I let it slide. The information came round again via one of my yoga students. This time, something deep in side was stirred - awakened perhaps. Here was an opportunity for integrating various different strands: My commitment to employing yoga to further the wellbeing of women in need; the desire to deepen my practise by taking yoga off the mat and I hadn't been back to Africa for many years so it was about time I did. I didn't realise it completely at the time but, a knowing light in my heart saw this opportunity as a vehicle of transformation and I made a decision there and then that I must go.

With many questions, a few fears and much excitement, all of which have been animating my days and dreams, I've spent the last 8 months or so, immersed in preparations. Alongside my regular teaching schedule and family life, I have been fundraising, learning about HIV, reading up on Rwanda and the terrible history of genocide and getting my body, mind and spirit prepared (i.e. as open and aware as possible at this time) to engage with this opportunity for Karma yoga.

Right now I'm in Cape Town, South Africa, visiting my artist friend Amanda Holiday and her family, taking some time out to chill and reconnect with mother Africa. I haven't been on African soil for 17 years and it feels good to be back.

To close my first Purple Cowrie post, I have one more thing to add. Just before leaving London, to commence this project, Sri K Pattabhi Jois, Guruji, the foremost teacher of Astanga Vinyasa Yoga died at his home in Mysore at the age on 94. Guruji was responsible for sharing the healing practise of Astanga Yoga with many thousands of students throughout the world. I take this opportunity to give thanks for Guruji's teaching of the Astanga Vinyasa Yoga system. I received teaching directly from him at his shala in Mysore, India and in London and also from several senior Astanga yoga teachers, including John Scott, Hamish Hendry and Dena Kingsburg. I am eternally grateful to him and thankful to all my teachers for this wonderful, life-changing practise. Astanga yoga has offered me a path to good health, personal healing and happiness as I teach others and support them in their own transformative processes of growth, healing and wholeness.