Dominican Republic, 2014: From Yogi to Tourist

The last few days at the yoga retreat brought out many emotions: elation that I had enjoyed the experience so much, despite not knowing the people beforehand; sadness that it was all ending and we had to go back to the “real world;” relief that I didn’t really have to go back because I still had several more days of traveling around the Dominican Republic; anticipation of having some quiet moments truly alone, in an air-conditioned hotel room somewhere on the road, away from the pressure and uncertainties of navigating group dynamics, which is always difficult for me.

The group began to take pictures together and speak of meeting up in Princeton, where most are from, or of me coming to see the yoga studio there and visit folks the next time I am in the New York area. Perhaps those things will happen, or perhaps that was it, and I’ll never see members of the group again.

I don’t like to post pictures of people on a public site without their permission, so I’ll just post a few I took to remind me of the days doing yoga to the sound of the waves.

Next up: traveling to Santo Domingo and replacing ocean sounds with honking, loud, city noises.

The “beach dog” who began to follow members of the group around, to the beach and into the yoga studio. One morning, I went to the beach to meditate alone rather than in the studio with the group. The sun was just rising behind me and was still low, so my shadow stretched a long ways in front of me as I walked on the sand. After a while, I noticed the shadow of little floppy ears and a tail next to my shadow, and I looked to find this furry friend following me. When I found a spot to sit, he whimpered and sniffed around me for a few minutes, then curled up about three feet away to wait. I sat. He waited. Then we headed back. As a big off-leash dog with its owner came our way, my little friend took off through a gate to a set of condos, then reappeared under another gate several feet down the beach and rejoined me on my walk. Smart little guy.

The underside of the thatched roof of the yoga studio. I feel like I stared up at this roof, following the structure of the logs and the patterns in the thatch, so many times during yoga and meditation that I had to take a picture to remember it by.

Last day of yoga.