African Yoga Class

Sat 9-29-12

Whooaah, African Yoga.  I was standing in a busy plaza with Jaina and others.  It was pouring rain.  We were congregating for something.  Kevin Dildy was in the parking lot trying to keep someone from parking in a spot.  A guy in a truck wouldn't roll down his window to hear what Kevin had to say, but Kevin wouldn't take no for an answer.  Aron Edgeworth and his wife walked up.  We were going somewhere with them.  We walked under a huge outdoor plaza with an overhang high above it.  And african Yoga class was begging.  In may ways it was like the Yoga I know accept that the teacher would say things like "now wend some love to mama africa in this one".  We did Side plank.  I watched in amazement as a dreadlocked young man in a long tunic held side plant balanced on one hand with his feet off the ground.

Ealier I had been in a big industrial sace that Kitty orient and maia had turned into a cross fit.  I had caught the last little bit of class.  Going the exercises I notice that the floor was really dirty, dusty and there were goji berries and sunflower seeds everywhere.

Next thing I remember i was trying to change clothes.  Alex and I war about to go to Capoeira and he told me just so I knew that Yoji was angry because I hadn't paid 20 dollars for class last time.  That surprised me because I thought the classes were by donation.  I pulled my dark blue overalls out of the closet.  While I was in there I saw my moms suitcase in the back.  I brought it to her.  She was in the bathroom at 50th and Aldrich.  I left in the door way.  I saw Grandaddy David there.  He was looking dapper, dressed to the T and eating a large tortilla chip, the size of a slice of pizza.  I looked at him with respect and admiration.