When my travel companion suggested a trip to Mexico to embark on a yoga Ayruvedic meditative retreat, I thought about it for a few minutes and enthusiastically agreed.  I stared in blankness as I imagined myself with only a loincloth in a carpet-lined kiva in front of a fire with naked and well-oiled women chanting tantric mantras around a flickering fire with the smell of incense in the background.  After many hours and the ritualistic celebration of life and flesh over, I would surely sit with a chalice of good wine and fire-roasted goat on silk pillows while gaining energy for the next group soul journey.  This was to be a good trip.  My travel companion is a genius....

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