L'Atelier Crusine

We were sitting on the terrace sipping Tulsi tea and chatting as if our encounter had been planned. Earlier that evening I had considered heading down to the Anjuna night market with a small group of friends. The market is famous for its food, everything from Dim Sum to a sprouted salad with a tahini dressing can

Photo: Tulsi Tea

 be found there.As we chatted up a storm, I was glad I made the decision to chill out at home, since Philip passed by on the scoot on a whim. Our discussions seem to be always heady. I rarely meet people as versed in Ashtanga as Philip (or in anything esoteric for that matter). He knows the history, philosophy, as well as the esotheric side of the practice. On top of that Philip is a kindred spirit, and sometimes it seems as if we have non-verbal abilities in our communications, no doubt a gift from our Piscean nature.

photo: Salad at Anjuna Night Market

  Photo: Anjuna Night Market

Earlier last week, Philip showed me Vagador. The drive up there on scooter was far too exciting for my taste. I hung on for dear life as Philip pulled what I would call Kamikaze moves. He drove just like an Indian man, which ironically ends up being the safest way to drive. As we darted in and out of traffic, I squeezed my eyes shut, held my breath as I said a mantra. Despite the drive, I enjoyed the vibe in Vagador. It was very chilled and old school in comparison to Candolim. Philip took me through «Disco Valley» a little valley on the way to the old shala, where hippies and then punks used to party. Finding the old shala took longer than we expected, since a part of the path was overgrown by jungle. It now laid bare and only the flat surface hinted to the foundation of where the old shala used to be. Back in those days this shala used to be the only place to study yoga in all of Goa. Now yoga shalas are a dime a dozen. As Philip once commented,

«You are lucky to end up at the right place for some serious yoga.» I know I’m lucky and feel incredibly grateful to be studying with my teacher, a very enlightened individual with mind blowing knowledge. My teacher and I have a very special rapport and it feels very sacred. I am unable to divulge it. Some things are just to precious to blog about.

There was a lull in our coversation. The silence between Philip and me was as comfortable as an old pair of shoes. Our discussion resumed with the subject of  castor oil, which my teacher said I was to do. It’s a powerful detox treatment that needs to be done carefully. I’ve never done it, but I was aware of its different uses. But as we talked about it and wondered out loud about its different properties and nature, Philip took out his pocket book computer. He managed to get some wi-fi - long enough for us to read all about castor oil. I was stunned. Castor beans (technically they are seeds) are remarkable. In addition to their healing properties, they are used in plastics, along with other industrial uses. The food industry uses the seeds to keep mould away from packaged foods and in our bodies the oil also acts as a fumigator, getting rid of parasites, viruses and fungus. Castor oil is also known for it’s beautifying and healing qualities and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised, if it was part of Cleopatra’s beauty regimen in the way Aloe Vera was.

Photo: A cashew flower at Vagator's Disco Valley                photo: Cashew fruit, the black part is where we get the nut

Castor oil has been used as far back as ancient Egypt. In India it is esteemed in Ayurvedic medicine and in early Christian Europe it was known as Palma Christi. The healing properties of this bean merits its holy European name. But there is an insidious side to castor beans: In large doses it’s mortal, even harvesting the seeds causes a range of different problems like nerve damage, which is why the harvest is so problematic. The Fascist in Italy used the oil as a torture tool to breakdown their prisonners, causing many deaths. This dual nature of Castor beans is the quality all powerful medicinal plants have under what the Taoists termed as inferior plants. These are plants, which are so powerful that they are only to be used sparingly and in small quantities for a short time to strenghten the body. Photo: Tamarind, Thanks to the tree in Candolim for all the fruit

The famous pschychic Edgar Cayce talked about hot castor compresses, for painful areas. I’ve never done it and reading up on it it seems to be an old 'folk' remedy. To make a hot compress you need to soak some fabric in the oil. After you wrap it around the troubled spot and finally add a hot compress on it for a few minutes. It’s apparently very soothing for soreness or troubled skin spots. I’ve tried finding castor oil in Paris, to no avail. If anyone out there knows of a place, where we can find castor oil, please drop me a line.

Photo: A perfect 5 pointed star, sacred feminine symbol

I met Night Queen (after the flower) through Philip, though everyone pretty much calls her Queenie. Queenie and her husband live in Anjuna. Their home is simple but there’s something old world about it. (I could easily picture Somerset Maugham sitting on one of the rattan chairs sipping darjeeling). Queenie putters about in the kitchen a lot. She always seemed busy taking care of others, especially her twelve dogs, all of whom were abused street dogs. The first time we met, we didn’t get a chance to talk until Philip and I were ensconced on the bed and fooling around with the water pipe. I was then staring at the beautiful artefacts that were sitting on a 1970’s style cabinet. There were several Asian bronze statues, an unusual Indian sculpture with turqouise and coral inlays, and a bronze statue of a pixie, making the place feel oddly Byronic. Queenie walked into the bedroom. I followed her slow yet deliberate movements with my eyes and watched her put away some sheets. She resumed her strut to the door and without missing a beat twisted the unusual Indian sculpture so that it kept turning, revealing a play of colour between the red and the blue inlays.   Photo: A camera shy Philip in Vagator

«What is that?» I asked loud enough for Queenie to stop in her tracks. She turned around, revealing a sheepish look on her pale face. Had I not known that Queenie was originally from Rajastan, I would have taken her for a European. She then started rolling a cigarette with the same slow yet controlled movements and told me that the sculputre was a lazyman’s prayer wheel. 

 Photo: William and I at Baga

Over the ensuing visits I would get to spend more time with Queenie and learn a bit about her life. It’s rare to come across someone who has lived such critical points in our collective consciousness. One afternoon we started talking music. I learnt that she had been a punk and had lived in Camden with her husband back in the late seventies and early eighties. Not only was she part of the punk movement, but she lived a door down from Marianne Faithful. Who knows what other artists Queenie frequented. But as I heard some of her stories, I had trouble seeing her as a punk. Queenie's hazel eyes sparkled with love and you felt the nurture and generosity in her. But despite it all, I realised that there was something inexplicably hard about Queenie. I guess living in squats and making your way in the world can at times do that to people.

I met with Philip on Sunday. We spent some time at Vagator and South Anjuna, which used to be called Eddy’s beach. (Eddy was one of the first ‘heads’ to move to Goa. Goan head or head is what locals name the foreigners who moved here in the 1960’s or anyone who has been living in Goa for a long time). Although we weren’t peckish, we headed to the Whole  Bean to see the menu and then placed our order for delivery. (All they are missing is a raw dip of some sort to go along with a mostly raw menu).

We then drove up to Queenie’s and had a cup of tea with her in Philip’s bedroom. At one point Yass told me about her history. She came from an old Rajastani family with a history dating back to the 13th Century. Her family continues to be one of the most powerful families in India and with the clout comes much privilige. A retinue of Cadillacs driving on dirt roads, elaborate parties, super powers to bend all laws, a household with forty servants, were some of the glimpses I caught of Queenie's former life as she narrated snippets of it to me during tea.

Queenie spent time in Pune and hung out with Osho’s community. She never would attend any of his satsangs nor would she wear red, the colour Osho’s staff wanted her to wear. But every morning without fail  she was at the gate of Osho’s compounds, because she wanted to eat a croissant. I can just imagine how this must have irritated certain of Osho's followers.

«But why didn’t you ever attend a satsang?» I asked amazed by her indifference.

«I grew up with all of that. I learnt Hindi and Sanskrit.» Queenie had a private tutor, who taught her many slokas and the philosophy that went with it. She wasn't intrigued by Osho the way Westerners were.

She also ended up living in what could be termed as the Osho ghetto in Pune. She befriended all of the high ranking staff members and knew the mechanics of the organisation. I listened with surprise at some of the things she told me the staff did. It sounded mad, almost fabricated. But having spent time in India and with yogis, I’m aware of some of the craziness that goes on. Regardless of the strange tales she told me about Osho and the organisation, Osho was part of a generation that started the awakening process on the planet.

«Why do you think we don’t have a figure as big as Osho for our generation?» I asked. Of course there is Gurumayi, Amma and a countless of other SadhGurus for our generation. But Osho was truly part of the counter culture movement of the 1960’s, and generation X has no true figure head for our counter culture.

Photo:Right-The streets of Mapusa

Photo:Left- The colonial past in Calangute

«There’s a massive awakening happening on the planet. We are the «crazies» who need to do the work. We don’t need a guru now. Back then yes, but not now.»

Her reply startled me. Her outlook was simple and straightforward. I agreed with her, but at the same time I also believe that having a SadhGuru is pure karmic merit. Not everyone gets a teacher like Gurumayi or Amma in their lives, not everyone gets them, and that’s ok. We all get what we need for our awakening to unfold.

Have a Magical Week,  Live for Love, Arletty Abady

NB- Check out the Boris Lauser Festival I'm organsing in June!

Home: LaGourmandiseQuiGuerit.com

The hordes of tourists that lined Candolim beach have vanished. The end of the tourist season reveals a somnolent village that locals say is what the real Candolim feels like. As if taking it’s cue from the departure of the package-deal tourists, the shala is emptying out, which is a bit overwhelming, since we are getting much attention and instruction from our teachers. And yet despite the intensity of the practice, the energy in the shala pulses with compassion. I wonder, if I’m as compassionate a teacher, a person. Photo: Musician at Anjune Market 

Thursday morning, Marci, one of my teachers, asked me what time I was starting practice and then added,

«You now have a new time. Monday you’re to start at 6:30am.»

I was grateful and yet the new time was also a bit of a double-edged sword. In India the earlier you start your Mysore practice, the more «advanced» you are considered. But for someone who likes to stay up late at night, this means developing the discipline of turning in early. I’ll now have to be in bed by 11pm at the latest.

 Photo: Jojest and I; below- Siro Dhara

I’m starting to seriously unwind. But I still have a long way to go. I did a Siro-Dhara oil treatment, which cures all sorts of mind illnesses, including insomnia and mental agitation. That night I slept like a baby and since then, I’ve noticed that my nervous system is much more relaxed. Jojist, the Ayurvedic doctor, who treated me has become a friend and for the last few days I’ve been able to pick his brain about plants.(I love hanging out with experts in their fields, especially if they are amazing people). I’m sorry he’s leaving in a few days for his home in Kerala. Now that the tourist season ended, many shopclerks, Ayurvedic doctors, cooks, market-sellers, and anyone who makes their livelihood from the tourist trade heads back to their natal villages, towns or cities. Jojist was invited to do some Ayurvedic work in Austria this summer, so hopefully we’ll get to hang out some more in France.

The food market in Mapusa and my local fruit and veg guy in Candolim will continue work as usual. I found out yesterday that my local veg guy works 14hours a day with no respite. He can’t remember the last time he took a holiday. (Eventhough his aunt owns the stand, it’s clear that he doesn’t take nepotism lightly). Mental note to self: remember to ask the fruit and veg guy for some fresh Aloe Vera.

I got a real bad sunburn and I do so miss my Aloe Vera plants. I forgot to pack my Aloe Vera balm, and scuttled about looking for some Aloe gel. But all I found in the shops was commercial Aloe Vera laced with God knows what else. The only real Aloe Vera I managed to find was last night at the German Bakery. It was the second time since my arrival to India that I went out for a bite. And it was worth the hassle of negotiating the fare with the taxi, because this restaurant in Anjune is a haven for raw foodists. They have a whole slew of salads on the menu, raw chocolate desserts, pickles, juices and medicinal Ayurvedic herbs from Auroville. I spent 8 euros in one night, an astronomical amount for India. After my feast, I purchased Ashwaganda, also known as the Indian Ginseng, along with fern pickle made in the Himalayas, some of which I’ll have tonight with my dinner in the bungalow. I also had a chocolate brownie for dessert, which I enjoyed and only once I polished off the plate did I realise that I forgot to take a photo. The truth is I was wholly absorbed by the company I was keeping. I was with some interesting women, who like me are teaching yoga or creating hollistic businesses. Emma regaled us with her many Mysore stories of Guruji. She is also a mine of information about the practice and anything related to it.  Sara and Sabine, two Nordic beauties, are finding their place in the yoga world. Sara has an interesting yoga project revolving around a hearth and I’m curious to see how she’ll eventually put it into effect.  Photo: Sara& Emma, right- Sabine, Sara and I at the G.B.

At the beginning of the meal, I tried to convince the owner of the German Bakery to let me film his chef preparing the raw food; no cigar. But I did get some priceless raw recipes from him as a peace offering. He also revealed how they clean their fruits and vegetables for the delicate Western stomach. This piece of information is a true golden nugget. Up until then I was only familiar of two ways of washing fruits and vegetables. So a big thank you to the German Bakery for sharing this insight.

Cleaning fruits and vegetables in India requires good water. In places like Goa and Pondicherry, decent filtered water is readily available. In Auroville, 10km away from Pondicherry, there are many homes and residences with the AquaDyn (made in Auroville). It’s a good water filter that you can now buy in France for around 1000 euros (I have a contact number of one of the representatives, if you wish to have it drop me a line). I’ve had the AquaDyn on numerous occasions in India and I’ve never gotten sick from it. But clean water for the rest of India is not only a bit of a challenge, but also in serious scarecity. For the rest of India I suggest cleaning your food with bottled water. If you’re spending a long time studying or living in one area, you’ll learn about the good water sources and you’ll probably be able to rent a space with the proper filters. Regardless of the water you use any where in India, I suggest that you add the following to the water: Grapeseed extract, chlorine or pottasium permanangate.

 Grapeseed extract is a natural bacteria and parasite inhibitor. I not only wash my veggies with it, but I usually take a few drops in my water during the day. The taste is nasty, but you get used to the bitterness. It’s also a good way of avoiding the malaria pills, which

are very hard on the kidneys. I use about 4 to 6 drops of the gell in about a medium-sized bowl of water. I soak my brocoli or herbs in it and then rinse it off in another bowl of water without the gell.

Chlorine is my least favourite method, but very effective. I would propably use this in the bigger cities. In many of the restaurants in Goa that serve salads, chlorine is used. It’s actually quite easy to eat out here, if you’re with your family. In many places they either cater to vegans, and a couple of restaurants, like the German Bakery, they also cater to raw foodists. Unfortunately, I won’t get a chance to eat in many of the raw restaurants, since they’re already closing up due to the end of the season.

Potasium Permanangate you find in any pharmacy. I was told by the owner of the German Bakery that you add a pinch in about half a litre of water. (BTW, the water turns pink with p.p). I've started testing out PP on regular tap water, which in Goa is decent and so far so good.

If you don’t want to stress out about properly cleaning vegetables in India and are concerned about all the rubish, there are two things you should be aware of: If you buy the 5L bottles of water, these are recycled in many places (but you have to inform yourself on this). If you only want to use plastic bottles for drinking water, while remaining raw, another option is only eating fruits that you can peel. A former boyfriend of mine spent 6 months in India eating only fruit and never got sick. His friends, on the other hand, suffered from all sorts of bacterial and viral infections (one of them even returned home with a horrible case of parasites, which took him a number of years to recover from).

I’m not a high fruit person. I need my greens and at this moment in time I’m really missing my daily dose of green juice. But I came prepared with my medicinal herbs and plants for when I’ll have to go through a high fruit diet. These will come in handy once I do some travelling in-land. Classes are cancelled during moondays, and a long weekend is coming up. I’m still uncertain where to go. I’d like to visit Amma’s ashram, maybe see the wildlife sanctuary, or one of the four most important Hindu pilgrim sites in India. So many places to see in India. Two months is just a drop in the bucket; I remind myself that experiencing India takes many trips, many lifetimes. And at the moment, I’m happy with what I’m experiencing.

I’ve been seriously disconnected from what’s happening in the world. And yet, news of Japan continues to reach my ears. Atilla, a Turkish guy I met at Arambole, said something I agree with: «Japan is a wake up call for the world. We must get away from nuclear energy.» The French environmentalists have been saying the latter to the French government for decades. I wonder, if this tragedy is indeed putting change into effect.

It’s been almost two years since I travelled to Asia and I forgot how intense meetings can be with strangers. After our discussion about alternative energies during a mud bath, Atilla and I did a trail through the jungle to see Babaji, a man who has been living under a Banyan tree since 1972. The Beetles hung out with him, as did hundreds of hippies in one given day. Babaji now gets far less visitors and since it’s the low season, there were only a dozen of us, sitting under the tree. Babaji spent his time smoking his chillum and talking about attachment. I was shocked to learn that he’s one year younger than my dad, since Babji looks far younger. He attributed his youthful looks and good health to meditation and a frugal diet of water, fruit, vegetables and two slices of bread a day.

«You don’t do asana?» I asked him.

«No asana, only meditation,» he replied proudly.

Whether he’s the real thing or not, I don’t know. But I understand his drive for peace and his insatiable love for nature. I don’t know, if I could spend my life living under a Banyan tree. Maybe I could for a couple of weeks or months, and by then I would miss my creature comforts. 

 photo: Babaji under the Banyan tree

When we left Babaji, Atila asked me:

«How do you keep your tits so white?»

I froze. I must have turned ashen colour as I looked down at my navy blue top. No, my breast were not sticking out from under my swimtop. «Are you ok?»Atilla asked. I nodded. Let the comment slip by, I thought. But then he asked me again. I had no idea what to reply. Is this guy coming on to me? «You have good tits,» he added with a straight face.

«Atila, you’re fresh,» I said with a serious expression in my eyes. He looked confused.

«Did I say something wrong?» he asked me.

«Tits?» I said with annoyance, «Isn’t a word you toss around lightly, when you’re speaking to a woman, especially a strange woman.»

«What are tits?» he asked. I rolled my eyes, but just in case he really didn’t know I pointed to my chest. Atila chuckled with glee.

«No, I mean this,» he said as he pointed to his mouth.

«Teeth?» I said. He smiled and tried to emulate my pronunciation.

«Yes tits.»

Turned out that Atilla lived in Japan for many years. He is fluent in Japanese and knows well the Japanese mentality.

«If this (nuclear) problem were happening any where else, we’d be in serious trouble. The Japanese are remarkable people, they’ll be able to deal with it. They deal with catastrophic earth quakes about every 60 to 80 years,» he resumed our Japanese discussion on the way back to Arambole. I don’t know, what to think about Japan. I know it's a problem that will affect us all. But I got the gist of what he said.

Our planet has experienced over 2,050 radiation explosions and our species is still flourishing. But it’s still important to help your system deal with all of the polution.

So whether you aspire to be raw or not, just make sure you’re eating seaweed. Kelp, dulse, nori, all of the micro-algeas should be added in good quantities to your diet. It’s important for our bodies and minds to be strong for what’s happening and what’s about to come to the planet. I’m sure many of you are in the midst of some serious roller-coaster rides. Know that everyone is going through challenges at one stage or another. It’s part of our evolutionary process. This is why our diet is important, so that we can adapt to the changes. Don’t loose despair or hope, those who are waking up, are putting change into effect in their lives. It all starts in the mind. Realise your connection to Gaia, her creatures and each other and you’ll start experiencing the present and the power of the moment.

Wishing you a magical week. Love to Live, Arletty Abady  

With the aftermath of a Tsunami and the brink of a nuclear meltdown, our personal challenges seem trivial in comparison to what the people of Northern Japan are going through. Yet again this country is plagued by radiation. The way the Japanese dealt with the A-bomb in 1945 is an example of what our species is capable of doing, if we put our mind to it. I’m just hoping that this tragedy (along with the gulf oil spill) will really rattle things up in the world to the necessity of alternative energies that don’t entail the splicing of neutrons. Radiation is part of the cooked world paradigm. If you nuke your food, you’re part of that delusion. Keep food real, keep it live.

I can’t, I won't and I don’t carry the world on my shoulders. I realise the importance of cultivating my inner happiness and acceptance of my life regardless of what happens around me. But I can’t deny that this whole episode with Japan affects me. I was already feeling energetically drained from the emotional roller-coaster ride I endured a few weeks ago in Canuckland. Ever since my return to Paris almost two weeks ago, my mind has been focused on improving the energetic leakage I’ve gone through. This has entailed some serious isolation from the world. Only a few days ago I felt strong enough to resume work on my upcoming new site with Ben, whose amasing energy helped carry me through the day. As I write this post, I’m already feeling better and hopeful despite all of the crazy things that are happening in the world. I believe that deep down humanity will evolve for the better, because I'm evolving for the better and everyone in my life and in its peripheries is evolving for the better.

This morning I resumed the fine tunning work of arranging the new calendar of events I have lined up for the summer, which I'll post some time this week. I'm super excited about it and look forward to sharing the magic. I’m also turning my attention to my upcoming trip to India end of this week. By the time I head out to India I will have visited three countries in the span of six weeks; enough to make anyone's head spin...

As a raw foodist organising a trip food wise can be a bit of a challenge, and India will prove to fall in that category. (Though apparently in Goa there’s a serious health counter-culture; I’ll soon find out). I hope that you’ll join me on my journey in the ensuing weeks. I also hope to post interviews and sites on YouTube, if I can manage to work out the camera...

When I got together with Ben a few days ago, I was pleased to see to what extent the guy has improved his eating habits. Ben was a serious mess in terms of his food choices, and in the course of less than 6 months, I’ve watched him take an interest in his health with some serious gusto. Ben ate sugary cereal with milk and rarely ate anything green; these days he has fruits and superfoods for breakfast and salads are integrated into his every day lifestyle. But there’s one thing Ben simply won’t change, and that’s his steak habit. There are raw foodists, who eat raw meat and raw dairy, something I encouraged people to do, if they were addicted to animal products. But in the last few months, I’ve come to realise that the raw foodists who eat animal products often times are in the same state of denial as most omnivores. It's more psychological than nutritional, especially if they are eating meat once a week instead of once a month.

As Ben and I walked down Sebastopol to a photocopy centre, I mentioned to Ben Johnathan Safran Foer’s book, Eating Animals. This unleashed a heated discussion, which included the 'Me Versus Them' arguement, before Ben proceeded to tell me straight out why he refused to learn the insidious side of the meat industry.
«Ignorance is bliss,» he then said as he licked his chops, no doubt thinking of a burger. I knew where he was coming from. Most people these days are somewhat aware that there’s something diabolical about eating meat, but they choose to play the-ignorance-is-bliss card. Lack of intelligence has nothing to do with it.
   

«Listen, you don’t have to give it up. You can think of becoming a week day veg,» I told him, aware that he and his family ate meat for every meal (except breakfast).
«Hmmm, that’s a concept,» he said and mulled about it out loud, but at that moment I was lost in my thoughts: So if it’s not a 'me versus them' conflict... By 'me versus them' I was refering to the possible scenario some people have about the meat industry and fastfood chains being dictated by the Illuminati, whose agenda is not only to enslave humanity, but to destroy the planet. After all, what other kind of rational explanation could there be for the madness? Any person with a pea for a brain understands that we have a serious problem on our hands and Michael Pollen isn’t the first omnivore to point out how insane our meat-eating craze is.

«We are condeming McDonalds and Jack in the Box, but their CEO’s believe in their products. They are selling pleasure; they eat their own food, and they like it; their business is sinful pleasure. It’s just not a 'me versus them' storyline ; there’s no Illuminati,» Ben reiterated as if he were reading my thoughts.
«How do you know their CEOs eat their own fastfood?» I asked, wondering if he was making-up this whole cockamanie story to suit his arguement.
«I have friends who’ve worked at the Jack in the Box headquarter’s in San Diego and the only restaurant in that entire building is a Jack in the Box.»
To think in the box, you gotta eat what’s in the box.

I froze for a moment and took it all in: If this is true, if all the fastfood chain CEOs eat their own fastfood, then this story of greed, destruction and ill health we have on our hands due to our irrational consumption of meat makes more sense than the 'me versus them' storyline. We don’t have to invent an illuminati for our problems, it’s us, mankind, we are the problem, and it’s time we acknowledge it. No point blaming the Illuminati; it’s time we became responsible for our choices, our destruction. And if only one person reading this blog starts thinking about it and puts it into practice, then all the effort and soul I’m putting into writing this entry is worth it.

Our story as a species is also a story that entails domestic animals. The story of meat and our relationship with livestock is as old as time immemorial. In biblical times we’re told that we made a type of deal with the animals: We would nourish them and protect them and they in turn would on occasion willingly sacrifice their flesh to us. Whether you agree with this type of covenant or not, it was an interdependence that seemed to work. Animals were well taken care of. But those days are long gone, despite what the industry wants you to believe by decorating their sausage packages with images of smiling pigs, dancing to a drummer.   

Eating meat is a consciousness choice. Admitting that we have a serious global problem on our hands, when it comes to the pollution level livestock generates is the first step to our evolution.
«Pleaze, Arletty,» you say as you roll your eyes. «A Tsunami hit Japan a few days ago, and now there’s a nuclear reactor blast with possible meltdown...» Yes, the global environmental catastrophes are bad, a euphemism to say the least. But despite all of the pollution, our species is surviving, and we need to address the hard issues. Believe it or not, one of those issues is our insane addiction to meat. Am I being hyperbolic? Yes, maybe, no?

When Jonathan Safran Foer published his 3rd novel, Eating Animals, many were surprised. Ever since his first novel, Safran Foer was knighted by both critics and the public as the new voice in American literature. His style was light yet profound, capturing the mood of the country after the events of 9/11. But no one seemed prepared for his latest novel. I call Eating Animals a novel, because despite all of the detective work and meticulous research that went into the book, Foer also discusses the intimate emotional details and history of his Ashkenaz family, which often occured at the dinner table as they sat around eating animals.

Foer’s was inspired to write the book after the birth of his first son, but unlike Kafka, Tolstoy or Shaw, to name but a few vegetarian writers, Foer wasn’t a vegetarian when he set out to write the novel. In fact, he was a confirmed omnivore, who loved his grandma’s chicken matzo-ball soup more than any other dish in the world. As Foer undertook the research and realised what is happening to our Industrail Livestock in terms of the genetics of the animals, the havoc it’s playing on the environment and how the processing of meat is affecting our health, he turned vegetarian as did the rest of his family.

Although Tolstoy wrote some serious essays on the importance of having a vegetarian diet, meat products back in the 19th century were still healthy and the animals had a good quality of life. It wasn’t until 1923, when a housewife, Celia Steele, accidentally received 500 chickens instead of the 50 chickens she requested that the birth of the factory farm started. Steel crammed all the chickens in the cages and within a few years had an operation of 10,000 chickens, which seemed to flourish in tight quarters. By now this tactic is used for all land animals, including fish. I knew all about the way poultry, pigs and cows were treated by the industry, but I was stunned to learn how farmed fish are raised and how study after study proves that they suffer immensely. In the last three years more studies have been undertaken to understand the physiology and mental capacities of fish than in the last 60 years. We simply don’t understand these creatures, including dolphins and wales. And it turns out that even those deemed less sophisticated by our species have very complex nervous systems and mental capacities, and the lives they lead in captivity (aka a fish farm) is horrendous; it makes exotic fish aquariums seem like the ultimate accomodation for any creature.

But who cares about animals and the environment? Most people care about their meat and it better be cheap...

 Cheap meat, cheap food in abundance has only been seen in the history of humanity in the last 50 odd years, and the arguement for cheap food seems to win each time over the arguement that animals need a better quality of life. How do I know this? Because consumers are making their voices heard through their pockets. Environment? Be damned! Generations to come? Be damned! I only care about me. This is our attitude each time we buy a slab of beef or order lamb from the menu. Yep, we are indeed the ‘me’ generation. Where does the environmental buck end? On your plate?

As French philosopher Jacques Derrida said: «However one interprets it, whatever practical, scientific, technical, juridical, ethical or political consequences one draws from it, no one can deny this event anymore, no one can deny the unprecedented proportions of this subjection of the animal.»

Unfortunately, most people who should be reading books like Eating Animals probably won’t, because waking up to what we are doing to our livestock, our health and the health of the planet would entail some serious changes to our diets and to our tastebuds. It’s hard to overcome a food addiction, harder still to admit to oneself that there’s a serious problem, when it comes to meat. I'm counting on the younger generation, the ones who'll inherit our mess, to come to their senses. Our eating habits as a species will take at least three generations to dramatically change, but the planet needs your help.

More meat, means more demands on grains and more hands battling over them. By 2050, a mere 39 years away, the world’s livestock will consume as much as 4 billion people on the planet. Today only 16% of animal products are accounted for in China’s total food consumption. But livestock already accounts for 50% of China’s drinkable water. The Chinese are starting to face some serious water challenges, but the Chinese want to live and eat like us and if we don’t give two rats asses about the environment, why should they?

There’s so much crap being dumped in our waters due to livestock that radiation leakage seems tame in comparison. Am I being hyperbolic? Yes, no, maybe. Today one typical pig farm produces:
7.2 million pounds of excrement
one typical chicken «broiler» facility produces
6.6 million pounds of manure,
while one cattle feedlot creates
344 million pounds of crap.
The General Accounting Office reports that individual livestock farms can produce more waste than the population of some major US cities.
87, 000 pounds of shit every one second are produced in the US alone. Care to wrap your head around it once you start adding the rest of the world? Where does all this shit go to? Think about it. Ever wonder what’s in our drinking water? Our rivers and oceans are becoming massive sewage systems. And the truth is well hidden. Who and why keeps it that way? Is it any wonder then that conspiracy theories are afloat? Or is it because we just don't want to face the facts and change our ways?

If you are sitting on the fence about becoming a vegetarian and worry about protein in-take, please read my alternative protein post. If you have children and you’re still eating meat (which includes seafood and fish), you may want to sacrifice your tongue, in order to leave them a legacy. If you eat meat every day and are aware that you have a serious addiction to flesh, start taking control of your addiction by diminishing your intake and consider becoming a weekday Veg and eventually a vegetarian all together.

Things to keep in mind:

10 billion land animals are slaughtered every year in the US alone.

China and India are adopting Western style diets, which means that more shit will be pumped into our waters and more forests will be destroyed.
Cheap food = environmental disasters. And guess who is laughing all the way to the bank? Smithfield’s, a global pork producer, found in Belgium, China, France, Germany, Italy, Mexico, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Spain, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom and the United States. But what on earth will Smithfield’s owner, Joseph Luther III (pronounced ‘looter’), do with his annual 138 million dollar net profit every year? Build himself a sustainable home with clean drinking water on the moon? Doesn’t he know that you never shit in the water you drink from? And guess what? People are buying his pigs.

Commercial livestock is the number 1 polluter on the planet  (and believe me that thought is scary, especially once you’ve seen films on the Bitumen oil processing plants in Canada, which pollute rivers and oceans in a way that made me squirm like a pig to the slaughter).

If you think that becoming a vegetarian won’t make a difference, think again. Your vote counts, you count in every way, including the way you eat.

We can no longer continue to live the way our parents raised us. The world has changed dramatically since the 1970’s and 80’s.
    
I propose that all of our meat products should come with warning labels:

Thinking of eating shrimp?
WARNING: For every 1 pound of shrimp 26 pounds of coral, shellfish and other sea creatures are destroyed (sea horses are now on the brink of extinction).

Thinking of eating poultry?
WARNING: The genes in this chicken have been dramatically tweaked; pounds of antibiotics and growth hormones are pumped into this creature, which may cause premature bodily changes in children, prompting breasts in boys, facial growth in girls and antibiotic intolerance in omnivores; once slaughtered chicken meat goes through what the industry calls a fecal soup, full of flavourful uric acid (in essence urine), in order to disguise the chlorine used to kill harmful bacterias from feces. This fecal soup also plumps up the chicken, giving it more weight (ever wonder what all the liquid that comes out of a chicken, when doing a stir fry is all about?); the billions of chicken we grow worldwide are causing serious environmental damages.

Thinking of eating this piece of steak or pork chop?

WARNING: This meat contains large doses of antibiotics, hormones, concentrated doses of DDT’s, PCPs, mercury and other toxins; this piece of meat is draining the world of clean drinking water (it takes 1 gallon of water to produce 1 pound of meat); this piece of meat is destroying rivers; we have so much shit, we don’t know what to do with it; this piece of meat is single-handedly destroying rainforests worldwide; this piece of meat has suffered in ways you cannot even imagine.

Thinking of eating wild salmon or tuna?
WARNING: This piece of fish was caught through line fishing or trawlers, which means that catching it destroyed myriads of other species, along with dolphins and coral reefs; buying this fish contributed to the myriad of dead zones we now have in our oceans; in 39 children won’t know what a real fish looks like.

Thinking of eating farmed fish?
WARNING: This fish contributed to unknown pounds of pollution, antibiotics and hormones to the ocean; this fish is genetically altered; this fish is infected with lice; this fish is most probably unfit to be eaten, but the industry will sell it to you anyway.

Less than 1% of meat on the market today is wild.

Thinking of eating free-range? The word is a dubious one, unfortunately. If you really need to eat that piece of free-range chicken, make sure you know your sources and please don't buy it from a supermarket, make it organic. 

«SO WHAT ON EART DO I EAT!» You yell at the top of your lungs with frustration.

Our species survived and evolved on an omnivorous diet- there’s no denying that. Recently it was discovered that deer aren’t vegan, they consume egg shells. It’s clear that many so called vegan mammals need animal products, but our species has really fucked things up. We need to seriously reconsider our meat-eating habits and derive our animal products in a way that makes sense on an environmental and humane level. Evolve, change and adapt our eating habits to the new strains and demands we’re putting on the planet, or partake in Gaia’s destruction. Be responsible, be a human in every sense of the word, be CONSCIOUS. No more dilly-dallying, sitting-on-the-fence, looking the other way, or playing the ignorance-is-bliss card.

If you’re a hardcore omnivore and want to participate in change, you can do so by diminishing your meat in-take and at least buy what’s the most humane meat on the market. If you have friends who have access to wild meat, you may want to stock your feezer with it, because at least those mammals had a beautiful life. And SERIOUSLY Consider becoming a weekday Veg.

If you’re a weekday Veg, you may want to start diminishing your meat consumption to a bi-monthly one.

Don’t despair...1 out of 4 generation X-ers in Canada are vegetarians!
33% of Brits are vegetarian!
25% of Germans are vegetarians!
France has a way to go, but change is definately in the air! Be a part of that change :-) (1% of French are vegetarian)

Sending out a prayer to the challenges the Japanese face today and the challenges all of us, along with Pachamama are facing. We all need courage and hope for a better tomorrow. The best way to face it all is by being present. Love, laugh, rejoice, because it ain’t over till the fat lady sings.

If you managed to reach the end of this post, hurray! Hopefully you're one of those who sat on the fence. Anyway, a big shout to Sofia, who opened up Inspire Yoga this past weekend; making the planet conscious a person at a time.

Love to live! Have a magical week, Arletty 

 Cliff hangers can be annoying. I for one hated having to wait even a week for my favourite telenovela to reveal the fate of the starcrossed lovers. I bring this up, because last week’s blog was not a deliberate cliff-hanger. I thought I made the end clear. Then, someone pointed out the cliff-hanger, which I only noticed once I reread the entry.  The end was ambiguous to say the least. So this is what happened next: Not only did I not spend the night in a cell, but I got home just in time to put the vanilla yoghurt in the fridge before it turned sour. We ate the cream the next day at the Dessert & Elixir class; it was yummilicious! I enjoy teaching that class, because I see how the information helps people transform their lives. Often times eating raw desserts is the first step for many people to take charge of their addictions. But you don’t want to eat only raw desserts.

footsteps in the sand at Caravale Beach, Brittany

On a raw food diet you want to ideally eat lots of greens, sprouts, green juices, a little nuts, copious amounts of seaweed, some fats, some fruits. And if you want to take it even further, you might want to add a shot of wheat grass to your diet in the morning (on an empty stomach). (If you’re into raw meat/fish/dairy this is part of the diet too). But let’s face it, most of us are far from eating an ideal raw diet. Personally, I do a lot of the greens and the juices, but I reserve the wheat grass for my detoxing period. I made a decision at one point that for me to remain on the raw path I had to truly enjoy my food, including the medicinal stuff. And wheat grass is too hard core for me. If you’re sick, I suggest you include it in your diet. But if you’re relatively healthy and going raw to improve your quality of life, then the choice is up to you. Just remember: If it’s raw it doesn’t mean it’s healthy. Take raw desserts for instance. This stuff is amazing on occasion. Heck, I even ate some of it every day for my first year on a raw diet, since I realised that it was far healthier than the cereal and toast I used to eat. But raw desserts are not the healthiest, especially in comparison to what truly constitutes a raw diet. But sweets are still important and moderation is the key. If you’re an out of control sweet monster, then I say: Eat as much raw dessert as you like, while adding the greens, the superfoods and the medicinal plants. This approach worked for me and a myriad of other people.

It took me a long time to go full on raw, because I had so many food addictions. I’m perhaps one of the few people I know, who went through a five year transition phase. Most raw foodists I know did it in far less time. But as Tara pointed out two weeks ago, I was also doing it mostly on my own in Paris. Having a community you can lean on is the key for cleaning up your health act. Life can be overwhelming and if you add to this social food challenges and food addictions, you get dubious results. These questionable kinds of results are true too for people, who claim to be raw and don’t put it into practice. Believe it or not, I see this a lot. Almost as much as I see yoga teachers, who teach but don’t do the practice themselves.

There’s a famous Patabi Jois quote. When asked once about the study of yoga he replied: Yoga is 1% theory and 99% practice. Practice/Experience is far more important than facts. This is true too for many of the ancient yogic schools and Gurukhulas, where yoga of devotion, when put into practice surpasses knowledge in the end. We need the cerebral aspects of knowledge, but knowledge through experience is far more powerful. Some of my friends, who’ve been on the raw path for a long time, give me insights that might elude me, if I read it in a book. There’s a lot to be said about learning from someone, who has experience. So how to know if a raw foodist walks their talk? A rule of thumb in the raw food world is: How does the person look? If they have a vibrant healthy glow, you want to do what they are doing. Otherwise turn to somebody else, somebody who is practicing what they preach and it looks like it's working.(Remember how awful Dr Atkins looked? No wonder the guy kicked the bucket early).

The other rule of thumb is: What’s their energy like? David Wolfe for instance could look far better for his age. But the guy doesn’t stay put in any given place for longer than a month. He’s been living this way for the past 17 years. True he has the most amazing Jing, but it still makes my head spin. Travelling is hard on the body and travelling raw is the ultimate challenge, one which I will shortly put into practice, when I head off to India. But all things considering, I aspire to have David's stamina and energy. The guy blows my mind and the energy field around him is astounding, something you can only experience live as opposed to YouTube. He really walks his talk.

I already got some practice this past weekend in terms of thriving on a raw diet while on the road, when my boyfriend and I headed off to Brittany. I packed three meals for our get-away with a pending visit to the supermarket for extra supplies. Paul isn’t a raw foodist, but he is a health enthusiast. (I think you can safely say that he aspires to be a bit of a week-day veg). He likes the idea of eating raw and when he’s with me, he eats like me. He’s also a nature-lover, which in my book is a must. (In the past I’ve met some great guys, and though I could overlook their carnivorous ways, I simply couldn’t overlook their indifference to nature). We also found loads of restaurants that cater to raw foodists in St Malo, which was great. It made me realise that being raw in France is getting far easier these days. 

For the next two days Paul and I explored the coastline near St Malo and found some breath-taking spots. Brittany like Normandy has a visible sacred union between heaven and earth. And the beaches are strewn with the most amazing treasures. We even found ourselves sitting on top of boulders made of pale blue quartz, though their beauty was camouflaged with a thick layer of black sediment. I could feel the boulders breathing and at times I thought they were sighing, prompting the

                                                             (magical stones of light blue coloured quartz. Does anyone know their proper name?)

boulders to heave up and down. The whole coast is alive with these amazing stones.

God sleeps in stone, breathes in plants, dreams in animals and awakens in men - The Vedas.

It is a privilige to be in a human body.

 

At one point Paul and I left the beach and came upon a cauliflower field. There were cauliflowers everywhere, as far as the eye could see, and we just couldn’t help ourselves; we took a small head of cauliflower with us. I thanked the plant and silently thanked the farmer, and though I wasn’t compensating him for his work, I wished the farmer much abundance. (If we knew where to purchase fresh cauliflower, neither of us would’ve hesitated doing so; I still feel a pang about the theft, but gratitude for the experience).

We both made exclamations of delight as we munched on the cauliflower. Neither of us ever tasted fresh cauliflower: It was crisp yet tender almost as if it were made of butter on the inside with a crunchy cauliflower shell on the outside. Fresh cauliflower deserves the name choufleur, which denotes the tenderness of the stalks and florets. Store bought choufleur is

Me, blending into the earth

really more of a challenging mouthful like the word cauliflower. Fresh choufleur was a revelation! I now understand much of this cruciferous plant in terms of its culinary aspects. I think that when we cook cauliflower, we’re only trying to immitate the tenderness we find in choufleur. This cruciferous plant is a great local winter food. High in vitamin c, surpassed only by choucroute, choufleur also has loads of anti-cancerous virtues.

After our meal of choufleur, we learnt that hunters in Les Vosges were protesting in their chic red coats against this year's deer hunting quotas, which they said were far too high. The hunters were talking about including the forest itself into the picture, instead of only thinking of the forest industy. "The deer have a place in our forests, we don't want to wipe them out," one of the hunters said to a journalist. Hunters are protesting hunting? Paul and I looked at each other and laughed. Who says the world isn't changing? It ain't over till the fat lady sings. This planet we're living  on is in the midst of a serious 
                                                           (Me & Paul or is it Paul & I?)

make-over, a psychic one that is. Peace and harmony aren't nonsensical words to the masses anymore. Realising our connection to everything and everyone, including nature and her creatures is becoming part of our reality. I hope you're enjoying the journey and realising the endless possibilities. Love Gaia and let her be your playground and you'll discover much about who you are.

Starting in May, I’ll be offering a new level 1 Ashtanga yoga class on Wednesdays at 8:00pm- 9:15pm. Who needs to wait till September to start good habits? Not me! And perhaps you don’t either. So, drop me a line, if you’re thinking of adding yoga to your life after the First of May holiday.

I hope you’re enjoying the beautiful weather we’re getting. Have a magical week! Live for Love, Arletty Abady