I've been eyeing up this yoga group since we moved to our condo in Singapore.

They meet early Saturday morning out in the open air to do yoga with an instructor. When we moved here, I was waiting to join until we were more settled. Then I was waiting till we got a Helper; then until she was more settled in with the kids. Then she left and I was trying to find a new helper. Next thing all classes were cancelled due to Covid. Once things opened up, classes were limited to a maximum of 5 participants, so that yoga class has been unavailable to me since basically March 2020 (a whole year).

Things have finally opened up more in Singapore and I've got a spot in my long awaited yoga class. I've been going for a month. I didn't realize that the class I was admiring was an Intermediate Class. I also didn't realize that yoga in Singapore would be significantly different than the classes I took in Canada in my office building during my lunch break. Those ones were really relaxing. These ones have about a 5 minute warm up and cool down and so are 50 minutes of intense Vinyasa (flow) yoga.

I didn't remember most of the moves. My yoga mat was much too thin for over hard tile. It's somewhere between 25 t0 30 C outside at that time of the morning. I realized I couldn't balance on the bad ankle of mine, which I sprained badly when MsI was a baby. I couldn't understand the instructor's Chinese accent. I noticed she even writes the order of the poses on her hand in mandarin characters. She doesn't demonstrate all the poses, often just calling them out by name. She only demonstrates occasionally, especially when she says, "we are going to do a really easy one." We giggle then, because we are about to be falling over trying whatever insanely difficult pose she is making look easy.  I generally look to the other participants to see what we are supposed to be doing.

After my first class, the other ladies asked me how I was and said that they hoped I would return. One told me she didn't return for a whole year after her first class with this instructor.

But I'm not giving up my spot. It's a lovely part of my week. The breeze blows down of Mt. Faber and you can smell the flowers. The fountains are right beside us tinkling away. You look up and all you can see are blue skies and the white fluffy clouds rolling by high above. The pictures above are the views from my yoga mat. It's been a month and I can stand on my bad foot now, even if I have literally fallen on my face a few times.