Yoga, Chocolate, and Music in Karmiel

Following a rather depressing few days, I decided it was high time my children experienced some positive energy.  So off I went to try out a yoga class in Karmiel.  There is a Matnas (community centre) up the road that seems to think it’s normal to charge English Country Club prices in the north of Israel for fairly average activities. Bizarre as I had assumed these places are at least part government funded. I had already attended a mummy and baby group there which cost more than I would consider spending back in Bushey.  And these mums aint half as posh, let me tell you.  Goodness knows how anyone else afforded it, but lets just say we have been eating a lot of pttitim this week (Israeli equivalent of cheap pasta).

So I turn up to the yoga class, late of course, as the baby did his usual trick of wanting to have a 3 course meal just before I left.   Thankfully I was rescued by my good friend who scooped me up halfway up the hill to the matnas, and drove me the rest of the way so I wouldn’t be too horribly late.   The class was all in ivrit, but as yoga classes are fairly standard it was easy to follow.   Bizarrely, there was a very high ratio of men to women, which you almost never see in yoga or dance classes.   There was the usual question from the teacher of “have you ever done yoga before” etc.  I told her it was my first time since my labour, but I am experienced.  Anyway all was fine until she gave an instruction just to me which I didn’t understand.  I explained I am an olah chadasha and she needs to repeat it slowly.  So up she gets and suddenly starts making obscene gestures at me.  I was a little shocked, until it dawned on me she was telling me to contract my pelvic floor muscles.  Obviously.

The class was a good level and the teacher was great but it’s hard work doing yoga post-partum.  Anyway eventually we get to the nice relaxation bit at the end which was slightly less relaxing than usual as I had to concentrate to follow the mind exercises.  Just as I was starting to get into it, the fat russian bloke behind me let out a ridiculously loud snore.  Then the bloke across the room joined in, and soon there were three of them, snoring in almost perfect unison.  I snuck a look at the teacher and she smiled at me, obviously containing her giggles.  That was it.  All over.  No chance of me entering zen mode.   I dissolved into fits of laughter and had to stuff a hand in my mouth so as not to make too much noise.

Earlier that day I felt a little sorry for Jojo having a miserable mummy so I put on some cheery music and finally gave in to his request to bake a chocolate cake.  Usually we only bake healthy cakes during the week, saving the sweet ones for shabbat, but he approached me with this lovely recipe book I was given as a wedding present which is devoted ENTIRELY to chocolate cakes.  I have always stared at it longingly but never quite been able to follow it.   Anyway, Jojo looked at me beseechingly, begged “cake, cake, chocolate” and then marched over to the cupboard where he started pulling out flour and sugar.  It seems sometimes he is a little too much like me.  So after about 2 minutes I gave in and we made these fabulous Chocolate Coconut Fingers.  We were both covered in chocolate by the end (all innocent I assure you) as was my kitchen but it was great fun.  And I was very impressed at myself for following a recipe in ivrit.  Well done me.