Not knowing what to expect, I threw my travel yoga mat, a mat towel and a microfiber sweat towel in a backpack and headed out the door into shockingly steamy humidity. The temperature was only 76, but the air was almost tropical. Nonetheless, I had 12 minutes to get to class – which is more than enough to anywhere within Skala.
Athina had messaged that her yoga class was above the Rouge Cosmetics shop. A few Kalimera's (Good Morning) and Yassos-es (Hello's) later, I was at the Rouge Cosmetics in the town square, exploring a staircase off to the left. Only nothing upstairs made sense and I realized there's another Rouge Cosmetics over by the harbor, just past the ferry terminal. For the first time even on Patmos, I wondered if I could make it somewhere on time.
I could and I did, with some uncharacteristic to Patmos hustle.
A door next to the cosmetics shop led up to a yoga and bodyworks studio you've seen 100 times. I've seen it across many countries too. Close the windows and it could be Bali or a beach town in California, or on Melrose or bordering Arab Street in Singapore. Bright colored walls, bamboo floors, the smell of essential oils being misted into the room, baskets of yoga mats, shelves of props, cubbies for people's things, a place for people's shoes, handmade baskets, some ethnic art.
I knew what to do. After introducing myself to Athina and putting away my things, I grabbed a mat and two blocks, and claimed a space in the back right corner of the studio. There were nine students in total – which was a good number for a studio that could have probably held another six or so people in a tighter configuration. Athina had the French doors and windows open, giving a wide view of the harbor in front of us. Despite a small breeze, the humidity barged in through the open doors and windows, doing anything but cooling the room. At first, I wondered how this would work with so much heat – until I remembered I usually do hot yoga in higher temperatures and humidity than this. And right there was the yoga – hitting a wall in which you might stress or panic for a moment and then breathing through it, finding you always had the capacity to adjust, adapt and accommodate.
Athina turned on the ceiling fan and another small floor fan she had, providing some relief largely to people in the back half of the room – of which I was fortunate enough to be part.
On one of the sweatiest days I've ever experienced in Patmos, Athina announced she would do something different this class: partner yoga. The response from the group was as tepid as the air. She paired everyone up by height and wanted to be sure the partners did not know each other. Easy for me. I was paired with a tall, blonde, very tan Estonian woman about my age named Helena.
Needless to say, starting off yoga back-to-back with a stranger is awkward. So are numerous postures in which you grab one another's hands, one in which you put you hand on the other's knee, others where you lean back on your partner's body while they're in downward-facing dog… and it goes on. The main advantage to partner yoga seems largely to involve using the other person's weight and strength to allow you to stretch further. Personally, I thought it made more sense for a couples' retreat than a group of strangers. In particular, asking a man to put his hand on the knee of a woman who didn't know him is the kind of thing an American yoga studio would probably avoid for legal and social reasons. For some reason, it flew here.
Unsurprisingly, Helena and I got more comfortable with one another as the class went on – and in my opinion, she was a pretty good sport about being paired with a big, oafish American guy. We actually did fine together despite the awkwardness of what was asked of us, sweating on one another – and sometimes laughed or even cut out on a few poses that just didn't make sense. I don't think the class was what either of us – and probably most of the others – expected, but we made the best of it.
Despite that, I realized what really didn't work for me wasn't the awkwardness of a fairly intimate set of exchanges with a stranger, but that one of the things I most love about yoga is its interiority. Yoga is about me, my body, my mind and my own personal challenges. I get to leave the responsibilities of the world for an hour or so and just be. In fact, the postures encourage that. Standing on one leg with the opposite foot in hand while leading forward (aka Standing Bow) doesn't allow for a lot of thought beyond breath, balance and coordination. It works when you're present. Sure, once in awhile I can slip in remembering something to add to the grocery list or an annoying thing that happened yesterday – but I have to be on my A game to have enough room for those.
Partner yoga did the opposite of what I seek. I had to be attuned to someone else. I held back on some of my postures so as not to put too much pressure on Helena or pull her too far. Our personal limitations were now each other's limitations and one person's strength could overwhelm the other. Again, in the context of a couples' workshop, it would make perfect sense – it forces two people to become attuned and find acceptance and paths to cooperation. At this point, I feel I can confidently speak for Helena in saying neither of us showed up at yoga expecting to focus on attunement.
Happily, Athina said her classes are usually normal flow-type classes and this was a rare departure. So I bought a pack of five classes and will return – most likely for her next class on Saturday. In-studio yoga is still much nicer than doing it by video from home, as I have the prior days this week. Besides, the view of the water while doing yoga didn't suck.
Yoga doesn't seem completely on-brand for Patmos. It almost is – with the white houses, blue water, nice breezes, people in flowy linen. The recipe for a yoga culture is there. Yet Patmians aren't stretchy, holistic kind of people. Yoga is fairly individualistic and Patmian culture is communitarian. Yoga culture usually involves healthy living, juices, golden milk, vegans, aromatherapy and thee like. Patmians smoke and drink coffee much of their day. Only the small organic shop has tofu and that's intermittently available. It's also the only shop with kombucha and is aimed completely at foreigners. There is also one gym on Patmos and it's the fraction of the size of a gym at home, despite being known for having some of the best equipment of any gym in the Dodecanese – which are relatively few. People here take walks, work with their hands, fish, spear octopi. Much like France, exercise as a thing unto itself is not a well-embraced concept. Leading a lifestyle with movement is.
Nonetheless, Patmos has come to increasingly welcome foreign tourists, so a small yoga studio and organic shop round things out for the people looking to make those things part of their getaway. They can help people like me to recharge and feel good – because God knows if I went to Petrino, the cafe in the middle of the town square, everyday, I'd be sick as a dog from the intense coffee and secondhand smoke.
At the end of the day, I did something new and different. I did weird, intimate yoga with a stranger and my first live yoga class in Patmos. Both things are notable accomplishments. It feels good to be back in the swing of daily yoga and coincides nicely with making progress on the house and creating a home that is mine. I'm finding my new rhythm on Patmos and who knows what will come of it?
