the anti-Globalization movement vis-à-vis Downward Dog

Yesterday, I threw away all previous notions and values about the spread of ideas and commerce, about the elevation of all peoples through a global network, about the destruction of arbitrary political borders for a universal acknowledgement of the human race. I went to a Yoga class at Bally's. I discovered the most detrimental effects of Globalization. And I decided that people can stay localized and segregated, as long as the ancient spiritual, even ascetic, discipline of early Hindus isn't reduced to a "embrace the present, but tighten those glutes!"

While I have always taken issue with Yoga, as an exotic franchise, I can never claim to know any more than the instructor. I know as little, or even less, about Hindu philosophy than the next unfortunately confused immigrant child. This Yoga teacher in particular, however, gave me some confidence in my religious illiteracy. She was around 50 years old, and thought she was 30; her hair was streaked with different colors and messily tied up in a knot at the top of her head. She had a look of forced relaxation on her face, which would tense up every time we did not properly execute Upward Dog.

She murmured into the mic, so that instead of counting down from 100 and "breathing in the present moment" and "breathing out regrets of the past and anxieties of the future," I kept looking around to see what I was supposed to do. I assume I have just become slightly deaf because I have been playing "Say Ahh" on repeat for the last 3 weeks; the tranquil instrumental she played confused my eardrums, which have habituated themselves to trashy, PG-13 lyrics.

When we started doing the poses, she told us it was the Year of the Tiger, so that we would start with the Tiger Pose. I stared into the mirror in disbelief, as she started tensing up her back like a large cat, ready to claw at the air. The Year of the Tiger is a Chinese categorization. While she was in the general area (Asia), India and China usually don't get mixed up. One of them has Slumdog Millionaire and Red Dots on Foreheads, and the other has Communism and Fried Pork Dumplings. Either way, we did not do a Tiger Pose, and moved on to the next move.

At one point, we held our arms together, as if in prayer, and raised them high above our heads while arching our backs. She described this to be "the way we pray to the Great Spirit." Again, I looked around, hoping someone would ask her to clarify. What Great Spirit? Who is "we?" Are you part of this community of believers who prays to this one Spirit? Are you conflating Cherokee (perception of Cherokee) with Indian? She then told us to recruit the muscle fibers in our abs to pray to the Great Spirit even deeper.

Finally, towards the end of the class, she explained the significance of the cow in Hinduism. We were all contorted in a position she claimed to be "the Happy Cow," though it looked more like we were all holding in our pee. She explained that Hindus don't necessarily worship the cow, but that they consider "the cow to be like a mother, for she gives milk and butter and cheese and ice cream." And her trance-like voice faded away, and everyone began to dream of a mint chocolate chip cow being milked by a shriveled Indian man with a long white beard, all the while chanting to the Great Spirit.

No matter how many Yoga classes you avoid, you can't hide from Globalization. Its effects are everywhere--Whole Foods, 99-cent stores, hybrid children. It's powerful, it's tyrannic, it's unstoppable. There are legitimate reasons people collect themselves to prevent the expansion of telecommunications and commerce that has enabled the diffusion of ideas and cultures and peoples. The phenomenon has essentially subverted any notion of culture, defined as per religion, locality, family, sexuality, etc..., and simultaneously deconstructs and reconstructs borders, as stereotypes are both dissected and propagated. Some argue for labor rights and for cultural relativism. However, I personally fear Globalization because it has turned history into a myth and people into spectacles. But more importantly, as a child of this phenomenon, I reject it using my own myths, my own notions of the truth, of culture, of myself. In fact, the Happy Cow may be the closest I get to finding my own history, which I have frequently romanticized when eating chutney sandwiches.

Regardless of how I feel about the commercialization of Yoga, or rather, the unfortunate conflation of distinct cultures and histories legitimized by an enchanting voice and streaky hair, Globalization happens. The Year of the Tiger will soon pass, and Yoga will continue to gain in popularity. Now all I have to do is pray that my thighs won't be so sore tomorrow.