Dawn on Avenida Bolívar
The ceiling fans were losing their battle with the Caribbean heat when I slipped off my sandals and stepped onto a loaner mat in Santo Domingo. Our teacher, a soft-spoken Dominican woman in loose linen, closed the studio door, smiled, and said:
“Colóquense en postura de la montaña… Tadasana… pies juntos, coronilla al cielo.”
The words washed over me like warm saltwater. I knew enough everyday Spanish to navigate colmados and motoconchos, yet I had never heard the language sound so melodious—or so specific about ankle bones and rib cages. I followed anyway, constantly checking my neighbors to confirm that postura del guerrero really meant Warrior Pose and not some Caribbean dance move I hadn’t learned yet.
That sticky sunrise planted a seed: if I wanted to lose myself in practice rather than translation, I had to learn the language of yoga in Spanish. What follows is the field guide I wish I’d had that day—written entirely in English so you can relax while reading, but dotted with Spanish cues, example sentences, and English translations to help you step on the mat with confidence.
Why the Language Matters More Than the Lycra
In both the Dominican Republic and Colombia, many studios run classes exclusively in Spanish. Knowing the cues is more than a courtesy to the instructor; it’s a safety net. If you can instantly decode “gira el muslo interno hacia arriba” (“rotate the inner thigh up”), you’re less likely to torque a knee. Just as crucial, fluency in studio lingo frees mental bandwidth—you breathe instead of translate, feel instead of think, and notice the tremble in your hamstrings instead of the panic in your dictionary brain.
Second-language research backs this up: vocabulary learned in a physical, emotionally charged context sticks faster. And there’s no setting more embodied than Downward-Facing Dog when sweat is stinging your eyes and a teacher purrs “alarga la columna” (“lengthen the spine”).
The Poses You’ll Hear on Repeat
Below is a compact table of the ten most common asanas you’re likely to meet in a Spanish-speaking class. The Spanish names vary slightly by country—Colombian teachers sometimes add “el” before a pose, Dominicans often drop it—but the core terms are consistent enough to get you through any vinyasa.
| Sanskrit | English Pose | Spanish Cue | Sample Spanish Instruction | English Translation |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Tadasana | Mountain Pose | Postura de la montaña | “Activa los muslos en la montaña y suelta los hombros.” | “Engage the thighs in mountain and release the shoulders.” |
| Adho Mukha Svanasana | Downward-Facing Dog | Perro boca abajo | “Empuja el suelo y alarga la espalda en Perro.” | “Press the floor and lengthen the spine in Downward Dog.” |
| Balasana | Child’s Pose | Postura del niño | “Descansa en el niño y relaja la mandíbula.” | “Rest in child’s pose and relax the jaw.” |
| Bhujangasana | Cobra Pose | Postura de la cobra | “Inhala, abre el pecho en Cobra.” | “Inhale, open the chest in Cobra.” |
| Virabhadrasana II | Warrior II | Postura del guerrero II | “Mira sobre la mano delantera en tu Guerrero.” | “Gaze over the front hand in your Warrior.” |
| Trikonasana | Triangle Pose | El triángulo | “Mantén el abdomen firme en Triángulo.” | “Keep the core firm in Triangle.” |
| Setu Bandha Sarvangasana | Bridge Pose | Postura del puente | “Activa glúteos, sube las caderas en Puente.” | “Engage glutes, lift hips in Bridge.” |
| Utkatasana | Chair Pose | Postura de la silla | “Lleva el peso a los talones en Silla.” | “Shift weight to the heels in Chair.” |
| Vrksasana | Tree Pose | Postura del árbol | “Enraíza el pie y crece en tu Árbol.” | “Root the foot and grow in your Tree.” |
| Śavāsana | Corpse Pose | Postura del cadáver | “Suelta todo esfuerzo en Savasana.” | “Let go of all effort in Savasana.” |
Notice how every Spanish cue pairs a plain-spoken body part with an action verb. Even if you forget the Sanskrit, you can follow the story: press, root, lift, soften. Soon those Spanish verbs will stick to the sensations in your muscles like chalk to fingertips.
Breath: The Invisible Pose
A Cartagena-born instructor once told me, “El yoga sin respiración consciente es solo gimnasia lenta”—yoga without mindful breathing is just slow calisthenics. She devoted the first ten minutes of class to breathing drills, peppering her Spanish with an occasional Sanskrit term. Here are the essentials:
| Spanish Term | English Meaning | Sample Spanish Instruction | English Translation |
|---|---|---|---|
| Inhala | Inhale | “Inhala por la nariz y llena costillas y pecho.” | “Inhale through the nose and fill ribs and chest.” |
| Exhala | Exhale | “Exhala lentamente, ombligo a la columna.” | “Exhale slowly, navel to spine.” |
| Respira profundo | Breathe deeply | “Toma aire, respira profundo en la postura.” | “Take air, breathe deeply in the pose.” |
| Retén (kumbhaka) | Hold the breath | “Inhala, retén dos segundos antes de la torsión.” | “Inhale, hold two seconds before twisting.” |
| Respiración Ujjayi | Ujjayi breath | “Activa Ujjayi, sonido suave en la garganta.” | “Engage Ujjayi, a soft throat sound.” |
| Pranayama | Breath-work exercise | “Empezamos con cinco minutos de pranayama sentado.” | “We begin with five minutes of seated pranayama.” |
Two patterns jump out: first, almost every cue begins with inhala or exhala, underlining the centrality of breath. Second, adjectives like profundo (deep) or lento (slow) shift the nervous system into rest-and-digest mode even before you start a single pose.
A Guided Mini-Flow
Let’s stitch vocabulary and breath together in a short English-narrated Sun Salutation. Imagine you’re back in that seaside studio while I translate the teacher’s Spanish in real time:
Teacher (Spanish): “De pie en la montaña, inhala, eleva los brazos.”
James (English whisper in your ear): Standing in Mountain, inhale, sweep the arms up.Teacher: “Exhala, pliega en pinza.”
James: Exhale, fold forward.Teacher: “Inhala, alarga la columna, mirada al frente.”
James: Inhale, half-lift, lengthen the spine, gaze forward.Teacher: “Exhala, lleva los pies atrás y baja en chaturanga lento.”
James: Exhale, step back and lower through slow Chaturanga.Teacher: “Inhala, abre el pecho en Cobra o Perro boca arriba.”
James: Inhale, open the chest in Cobra or Upward-Facing Dog.Teacher: “Exhala, empuja al Perro boca abajo.”
James: Exhale, press back to Downward-Facing Dog.Five breaths pass, the teacher counting softly in Spanish.
Teacher: “Inhala, mira al frente; exhala, camina al principio.”
James: Inhale, look forward; exhale, walk to the top.Teacher: “Inhala, media elevación; exhala, pinza.”
James: Inhale, half-lift; exhale, fold.Teacher: “Inhala, sube por la fuerza del centro, brazos al cielo. Exhala, manos al corazón.”
James: Inhale, rise through the core, arms overhead. Exhale, hands to heart.
By the third round you’ll realize you no longer need my whispers. The pattern has imprinted itself: every inhala expands, every exhala contracts. The Spanish becomes an audible metronome ticking time for your muscles.
Accents, Diminutives, and Cultural Curiosities
Language, like breath, shapes energy. Dominican teachers often soften commands with a cozy diminutive: “Afloja la espaldita” (“loosen your little back”), literally shrinking the body part to make the instruction feel tender. In Medellín you’ll hear the ubiquitous pues padding sentences: “Respirá profundo, pues, y sentí el estirón.” The country-wide love of verbal encouragement surfaces mid-sequence: “¡Eso, guerrero fuerte!” (“That’s it, strong warrior!”) when your quadriceps start to quiver.
Responding with a simple “gracias, profe” during Savasana weaves you into the communal fabric. Latin American studios prize closeness; language is physical contact expressed in sound.
Tips for Building a Bilingual Practice
Rather than a bullet list (this is a narrative, after all), let me share a brief story for each pointer:
Arrive early and chat.
In Bogotá I once slipped in late, flustered. I missed the teacher’s quick demo of Bhujangasana variations and spent the entire flow wondering why everyone else’s Cobras had lower elbows. The next class I arrived fifteen minutes early, asked questions, and the difference in comprehension felt like switching from AM to HD radio.
Pair sensation with vocabulary.
During Bridge Pose in Santo Domingo, I repeated puente in my head—puente, puente, puente—feeling hips rise each time. The word fused with the physical memory; now, whenever someone says puente, my glutes fire before my brain catches up.
Record (with permission) and revisit.
In Medellín, my teacher allowed us to place phones near the front mat. Listening later, I caught nuances I’d missed—how she drew out inhala like an accordion when she wanted a longer breath.
Amplify gestures the first time you hear a cue.
The first time I heard “eleva el esternón” (“lift the sternum”), I over-exaggerated the chest lift. That embodied exaggeration locked the term in place; now a subtle lift suffices.
Laugh at mistakes.
During an intense flow I once confused left and right (izquierda vs. derecha) and ended up facing the back wall in Warrior II while everyone else pointed at the sea. The teacher cracked up, the class giggled, and my embarrassment dissolved into camaraderie.
Closing—Union Beyond Words
Learning yoga cues in Spanish isn’t about hoarding translations like spare pesos. It’s about merging mind, body, and culture. When sweat streaks down your nose in Warrior II and the instructor says, “abre el pecho y sonríe,” you won’t route the phrase through English anymore—you’ll just widen your collarbones and smile.
That, in essence, is yoga: yuj, the union. Breath with spine, attention with movement, language with lived experience. May these words—English narrative, Spanish example, English translation—help you land in that union no matter which country your mat calls home.
