We could not resist all the sweet shops in Buenos Aires. So we live a little. Eat healthy most the time, indulge other times. The middle road! We do what we can.
Ok, so all that healthy eating went out the window when we left Montserrat for Buenos Aires. All ritual disappeared and airport food is insane. White bread, ham and cheese. That is what people survive on. And after traveling for a full 16 hours and missing a connecting flight because of weather in Miami and getting rebooked for a midnight flight, I had a double gin and tonic at the airport restaurant where we had nachos. My son threw up on the plane after that!
Once in Buenos Aires, the free breakfast is salami, cheese and bread. There is plenty of fruit, but coffee too! I have noticed that by eating dairy again I have broken out. I did manage to squeeze in a little yoga at the gym at the hotel. But not much else! I did walk with the kids along the amazing streets of Buenos Aires and tell them, “Stop. Breathe. At this very moment you are in Buenos Aires, Argentina.” To help them realize the present moment. To teach them yoga.
We went to the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes and saw the amazing Brassai photography exhibit there. At lunch I asked them, “What is yoga?” I nervously wondered what my children, who I have dragged to countless yoga classes in their youth, would say. My daughter said, “Something relaxing and with meditation.” Good, whew. My son said, “Something where you’re not having fun all the time.” Gads. My daughter’s response: “Relieves stress.” Son: “A last resort.” Cringe.
So. We teach children yoga and they pick up whatever they want out of it. They learn by example. So by dragging them around the world I figure they are learning something. Even though they haven’t started their official online school yet, they are learning. I am teaching them more yoga philosophy than asana these days. They need it for coping with life. It’s a mental preparation for reality and seeing it clearly. I used the image of the lake with dirty water, and the dirt settling so that the lake was clear. I said yoga is like cleanser for the dirty soap scum on your shower door. It removes the film covering your true self. Or that yoga is realizing that you are the sun, and your mind is like a cloud that covers the sun sometimes, hiding your true self from you. My son said that made sense. He still refuses to do warrior poses to help correct his external rotation and flat feet. So that’s the way it is for children whose mother is a yoga teacher. I’ll stick with the philosophy, and crank up the asana as part of the curriculum later.
The kids learned to read Spanish off the menu and the Brassai photo exhibit cards. They loved the amazing Argentine art everywhere in the museum. So colorful. I read aloud history to them. We arrived at the eco yoga farm in General Rodriguez today. The kids loved it. Ran around and played in the acreage. My daughter loves the hens and roosters roaming, the bleating of sheep. My son immediately wanted to help paint a fence, and my daughter weeded. They are helping cook meals right now, while their mother has snuck out to town to get on the internet! Usually it’s too far, but a Dutch woman has a car, so we all piled in! The British young man who was weeding with my daughter said he could tell him effortlessly about why it’s important not to use pesticides and the hidden effects of market capitalism on society. I was shocked. My little kids too pick up on everything I say. I imagine the yoga I do will too, one day.
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