All for One and One for Nepal: It Was Time to Go...To Goa

I came here to Goa one month ago knowing I needed to do internal work to strengthen my mind and shed myself of the collective ego portion of my brain. I will always hold Nepal in my heart, but I can’t hold the longing for what is past and I can’t grieve forever.

What I can do is share my story. When I came from Nepal my ego was full of voices. Monkeys/noise/purpose/plans/pride…you name it. I also left with a HUGE feeling of loss. Loss of never having again what was honestly the best 2 years of my adult life. I knew having to transition from that was going to be difficult. I was not focused. I was distracted, but I’m realizing now at the end of the program that my mind, body and soul is so much stronger, healthier and focused than I was when I left for Peace Corps. I say focused but I don’t mean on a goal. Focused on being peaceful; of just being who I am and loving that.

Who I was in Nepal was “Anjali”. Although I love the name “Sarah” because my parents gave it to me, I have always disliked the fact that I was always one of many many “Sarahs” in any social situation. The name “Sarah” is a combination of my mom’s initials “SA” (Sally Anderson) and my dad’s initials “RA” (Richard Anderson) and it will always be my given name, but because my experience was so positive in Nepal, I am more proud of and attached to the name “Anjali” now. I have even considered changing my name officially. It was given to me by the first Nepali family I lived with and means “hands full”.

I sobbed during the 1st or second ending of the meditation when we were told to chant our names while walking. I chose to chant “Anjali”. As I walked, I could feel my body fight to say the name through the tears. As I heard myself chanting the name, it felt like an out of body experience. It was as if I was in the body of every family and friend I had met in Nepal and was trying to call to myself, but unable to because I had left Nepal and was unsure of when I would ever return. As I was calling to myself, I felt myself disconnecting farther and farther from them. Luckily, I had the perfect guru/coach to encourage me to let it out. He was sympathetic and respectful of my situation. He kept saying “Let them come out. Let them speak.” By the 5th day, I was singing my name and getting bored of the drill.

My heart and mind had strengthened.

Owning my new sense of closure, I threw my mind into the philosophy and meditation classes. To understand the pronunciation of the Hindi and Sanscrit words better, I was asking the instructor to check my devanagari script handwriting. Something in my subconscious was telling me I didn’t want to forget the language. Better yet, I wanted to learn Hindi.

Hindi is very similar to Nepali, and pretty much all of the youth age 3-20 speak it. Funny how now as a 32 year old, I consider a 20 year old to be “youth”, but that’s beside the point. The only way I’ve heard of people learning Hindi is from TV. Not liking any of the Hindi TV shows that I have seen so far, and having a somewhat deeply rooted anger against India for bullying Nepal after the earthquake by refusing to provide petrol, I proudly admitted to people that

“No, I don’t speak Hindi.”

However, being here in in the South of India, and spending time with people who speak not only Hindi, but the local language Konkani, I’ve enjoyed picking up on words here and there that I understand. I have been spending my evenings at a local restaurant on the beach called the “Mariposa” (Spanish for Butterfly) and have been enjoying listening to Hindi as well as speaking Nepali with the staff. There are many staff who come here from Nepal to work. All guys. Makes me miss my Nepali girlfriends, but hey…guys are funny and entertaining.

I have also discovered that my own entertaining skills have come to very good use. About a week ago, I was walking by the Mariposa restaurant with my friend and the manager asked if we wanted drinks. My friend wanted juice and they didn’t have that, but I asked him if I could fire dance that night for a free meal. He was more than happy to allow me to do that and I enjoyed a cup of tea, studied for my yoga course exam, then enjoyed a fancy table for one with my feet in the sand. The live music was fun to listen to and I got up and fire danced both before and after my meal of calimari and king prawn. So delicious. I had so much fun that I invited some friends from the yoga course to join me later that week on Thanksgiving day for another show. The manager really enjoys having me around and part of me wishes I didn’t have to leave.

However, the winds of change are calling me home. I look forward to the holidays and spending time in the arms of my mom and dad once again. It has been one year and 3 months since seeing my family which is the longest time I think I have ever been away. I will miss Goa, but something tells me it’s not my last time here. The spirit of relaxation, combined with a growing yoga culture makes it tempting to return and teach some day. For now, I am thankful to be returning home with a 200 hour yoga teacher training certificate, a clear mind, open heart, and cast iron soul.