The Jason Hahn Files: Let's Talk About Yoga...

“The studio is amazing. They only do yoga and Pilates and everybody smells fabulous!”

Every January, Saffy and Amanda ring in the New Year with a vow to get fit and healthy. For a few days, they get out the juicer and make a mess in the kitchen as they whizz up oddly coloured vegetable and fruit combos including, one memorable year, a carrot and bean sprout mix.

“Eeee,” said Sharyn when she was presented with a glass of it. “Care-lot and dau-gay? Are you sure or not? So disgusting!”

She took a sniff and immediately gagged, a sight that made Amanda push her drink aside. Saffy took a big swig and spent the next ten minutes in the toilet throwing up. For the rest of the January, every time she saw bean sprouts at the hawker centre, she dry-retched.

This year, the girls got a second wind round about August and decided to try again, though this time they decided to do something considerably less damaging to the stomach. The solution? A six-month membership with Como Shambhala.

“The studio is amazing,” Amanda gushes to everyone. “They only do yoga and Pilates and everybody smells fabulous!”

“It’s hideously expensive!” Saffy told Sharyn, who, being a true blue Singaporean, immediately asked, “How ex?”

“Four figures!” Saffy whispered, a little embarrassed by her unaccustomed profligacy. “But low four figures!”

Sharyn sighed. “Wah lau! Four figure for six month? Siao ah, you two!”

Saffy bristled defensively. “Well, it’s their unlimited package, Shazz. You can go to as many classes as you like!”

“And how many you go to so far?”

Saffy paused. “Well…you know, I’ve been so busy at work, and…”

“How many?” Sharyn pressed.

Saffy’s bosom inflated. “God, you’re so bossy! Three, alright? I’ve been to three classes. But they were each 90 minutes, which is longer than the usual one hour, so that’s really, uhm, like…” she paused and struggled to make the math stretch. “Like…five classes!”

“Ay, nearly two month or-redi and you only do three class, ah? Wah, so waste money!”

“Amanda hasn’t don’t that many either!” said Saffy, Stool Pigeon of the Year.

When this bit of treachery was later reported to Amanda, she stiffened. “Excuse me, but I go at least three times a week! This week, I’ve been four times, and it’s only Thursday!”

“How you find it?” Sharyn asked. “I go online and look at picture. Wah, so cheem the way dey describe the yoga! Got power this lah, got hatha that lah. Wah!”

“I did this advanced class the other day?” Amanda said, her eyes shining. “The teacher is mega hot! He has the most amazing body and he hides it all under loose clothing. If I was running the place, I’d make sure he had to wear short shorts and a tight singlet.”

Saffy clapped her hands. “Oooh, I know the one you mean! They should make him teach with his shirt off!”

Amanda moaned. “Oh my God! Can you imagine?”

“I did his class too once,” Saffy went on, “but I didn’t realise how advanced it was till he said, ‘Okay, let’s do the blah-de-blah-asana’ and I was like, ‘What did he say?’ And suddenly everyone went from a crow straight into a handstand!”

Apparently, everyone who takes Mega Hot Yoga Teacher’s advanced class is a freak of nature.

“I think it’s a prerequisite that you have no bones,” Saffy told Sharyn. “There was this little Japanese girl next to me. You could tell she only eats a lettuce leaf for dinner because she looks like she would just blow over if you breathed on her. But when the teacher said we were doing the yak-de-yak-asana next, she just spread her legs to 180 degrees and folded her whole body forward onto the floor! It was so unnatural!”

Sharyn, who can barely touch the top of her knees, was impressed. “Ay, I ask you, what is this blah-de-blah-asa-what-ah?”

“Oh who knows? Every other yoga class I’ve ever been to will say ‘headstand’ or ‘cow pose’, but they’re so strict at Como, they only seem to use the Hindi term which means I have to see what other people are doing first before I try it.”

“Wah, so cheem hor?” Sharyn repeated.

“Tell it!”

Amanda says she is going to make friends with the Japanese girl. “I need to learn how to do the splits, too! It’s such a useful life-skill!”

Saffy is unconvinced. “If you had a boyfriend, it might be,” she said the other day. “Otherwise, what would be the point?”

Sharyn says it’s better than nothing, especially if you’re paying a low four-figure sum for it.


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