Going, going, om

It’s amazing how standing in front of 20 wheelchair users to teach yoga focuses the brain. There’s no time for endless lesson planning, tweaking or panicking even. It’s just roll up your sleeves and get stuck in. Quite liberating really. Some things work, others don’t, but it’s all good learnings. And you just have to hope the good people in the class are getting such out of it as you are.

I actually should have said sitting in front of rather than standing. Because I’m day two into a week of volunteer yoga teaching with a bunch of wheelchair users in Kathmandhu Nepal. They’ve all got spinal injuries and they live and work in at the Boddihisattvas in Action (BIA) centre at the Nepal Orthopedic Hospital in Kathmandhu. So I’ve been sitting down mostly, like my students, teaching adaptive chair yoga. I’ve been swatting up like mad to try and make sure that what I’m showing them is safe and suitable. Thanks to the inspiration that is US paraplegic yoga teacher Matthew Sanford. But to be honest we’re not doing anything too complex. And it makes you realise that, when your pushing tens of kilos of utility wheelchair by hand around all day, any kind of loosening and opening of muscles is good. And so is the mental stillness that comes with Yoga. Mind you, they’re all a dab hand at meditation as they have a class for that too I think. Certainly they seem to get the relaxation sections far better than a beginner group in the UK would – with all the chatter and disruption that goes on in our worlds. That said they also do things no one in England would – like taking calls half way through class! It’s all good though. As with all Nepalis the BIA lot are kind, smiley and very welcoming. I’m very grateful to them for bearing with me when I lose my place in my notes or confuse left with right… like I guess every other yoga teacher did when they were a trainee too.

It hasn’t been easy for these guys to keep smiling I suspect. I read somewhere that India and Nepal are rated the worst places in the world to be disabled. Not only is the health care pretty basic I think, but the built environment is a total nightmare. Roads and pavements are just dust filled craters (more of that later) and the wheelchairs are those really heavy, no-frills ones they keep for visitors in UK hospitals. So getting around outside in Nepal’s streets must be an impossibility. It’s actually a bit of a nightmare generally since the government ripped up the main Kathmandhu roads a couple of years ago, supposedly to widen them. They’re now pretty much impassable even for people with functioning legs.

And then there’s people’s attitudes. I’ve not had a chance to talk to the BIA guys yet but I know from disabled friends in Nepals second city Pokhara that disabled people here can have a pretty hard time. Disabled kids don’t get educated, adults can’t get jobs and some people believe disability comes about in a family from doing bad things. It all sounds really grim.

But luckily the people at BIA are in one of the best possible places in Nepal for spinal injuries. Set up by Tibetan Buddhists the centre provides accommodation, activities and also employment to its residents. All paid for by charitable donations. So Navraj, Usman, Vishnu and the others I’m beginning to get to know have all trained in specialist artisan skills like producing religious paintings (Tangkhas), making incense and furniture. They get paid for what they do and when they’re not working they all seem to be winning medals for things like basketball, swimming or singing.

Singing class is, in fact, very popular at BIA – as I found out at the end of this morning’s class. I was just about to finish off the Shavasana with some Oms when I realised everyone had started to head off for singing class. And why not. One thing I love about Nepal is there’s no standing on ceremony. So I packed up my things and headed off with them. It’s always good to experience new things. Even if you’ve no idea what the words are in Nepali!