Yoga in China

I just got back from a yoga class at my local Shanghai gym. I'd fallen off the yoga bandwagon, preferring to do elliptical or bike ride in the gym because I couldn't be bothered to go to the appointed class times. However, I got up my gumption today, not because I planned it, but because I was at the gym, had finished cardio, and didn't want to return to my paper. Oopsies.

(Side-note: my paper's done, don't worry. It's just not good. But, really, finishing's the important thing, right?)

I became pretty invested in yoga over the summer, and coming here, I went to a yoga class as soon as I'd signed up for the gym. I attended the first class with my roommate and was astounded at its difficulty! The hard part wasn't the language barrier (though that was formidible in itself) but the actual poses. But it wasn't just me-- looking around, all the Chinese men and women in the class were having just as much trouble as I. Perhaps even more. But that's a different story. In any case, I vowed by the end of the semester to be able to make it through the class in one piece.

Fast-forward ten ish weeks. I've only attended five or so more classes. And my once not quite adequate skills have deteriorated into mush. I'm still at the average level of the class, but my bridge is lacking.

But-epiphany!-

I UNDERSTOOD ABOUT HALF OF WHAT HE WAS SAYING!

Now that's progress. The first class I attended, I had no clue. I knew some Chinese, but it didn't even extend to left or right, let alone arm or leg. And this time, this time, I got some of it! Not all, and not even the majority of it. Nevertheless, I feel accomplished.

Now to practice my downward dog.