“And now hug everyone around you!” Thus ended the first yoga class my partner and I attended in Ubud, Bali which was taught by a native instructor. The ensuing exuberant embracing filled the air with communal prana and released laughter. Though the class was taught in a Western-style yoga studio to mostly Western students, the feeling of community created at the end was distinctly Balinese. I left with a smile on my face, enjoying the warm feeling from this unique experience.
The second Balinese-style yoga class we attended took place in a large hall which doubled as the community’s athletic gym [where just previously we had played a rousing game of badminton]. Sixty or so Indonesian people, of all ages, filled the space. There were no yoga mats and no special dress code. Soft chanting music played from the large speakers on the sides of the room. The Balinese instructor, equipped with a head mike, began the class with a silent shaking meditation. As he moved to a tall referee chair to instruct in the native language, a woman took the stage to demonstrate the opening stretching poses. We gradually moved into one long surya namaskar, holding each pose for one minute or more. Closing poses followed, after which we settled into a long savasana. The music was soothing, the massive fluorescent lights dimmed, and though we were indeed lying in a slightly stuffy and sweaty gym, it felt as inviting as lying outside under the dusky breezy sky.
After savasana we were quickly roused to a seated position where it seemed natural to remain in a quiet meditative space and perhaps end with pranayama or chanting of the Gayatri Mantra [which every Balinese Hindu is very proud to recite!]. Not so! Seconds after sitting up, loud and raucous laughter jolted us back into the room. Two particularly jolly men were quickly ushered to the stage to exhibit the art of laugher yoga. Slowly our dumfounded stares did dissolve into laughter.
After sitting laughter, the class flowed up for standing laughter. The movement helped to keep the laughter going, as did the affectionate jostles from the instructors and neighbors who could sense our awkwardness. The laughter session ended, and we all stood in Tadasana, facing the front of the room. Okay, maybe this was where we chanted and gave our final blessings?
Not so still! A new song was chosen, the volume turned up, and suddenly the whole room burst into song and dance! We heard the words ‘satchidananda’, and ‘namaste’, but otherwise the music could have been anything pumping at the local night club. The dance moves intensified as the music changed, and then, on some cue, people joined hands to form small chanting/dancing/jumping circles all over the gym floor. The feet moves were similar to basic bhangra moves, matching the distinct sound of tablas in the music. On another cue, hands were separated and individually thrown into the air to clap or gesticulate in beat with the words. The circle dance then vigorously commenced, much more laughter was shared, and exhausted, we concluded with a final spirited chant where we pumped our fists into the air.
Though we didn’t hug to end this class, I could feel the warmth created from the bright communal energy that was generated and generously shared. I left with a smile in my heart, feeling a little more connected to the open and welcoming community we have found a home in.