I forgot what a royal pain in the ass it is to be consistently covered in sand. There's sand on everything. My body, in my hair, on and in my backpack, on and in my clothes. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get any sympathy, but there we go. Sand. Sand, sand, sand, sand, sand. And it's everywhere.
Anyhow, I'm in Goa. Getting here was a royal pain in the ass, too. My flight was four hours delayed, and then I had to take an hour and a half long taxi ride from the airport to where I am now, Vagator. I was supposed to originally arrive here early in the day, and I didn't get in until well after dark. I also had an extraordinary time trying book accommodations for the full four nights I wanted to be here - so, after calling (yes, with roaming) every place I could appropriate a number for, I found a place for the first night, and then a different place for the remaining three.
The first place was...special. Or nothing special, depending on your outlook. They provided a towel, but not bedding, so I was grateful to have my Indian shawl, which is as large as some of the blankets I've been given to use in certain Thai guesthouses. The windows didn't close, and there wasn't a bug net around the bed, and you had to walk through a Western Union to get to the guesthouse. I'm glad I was only there for a night. In the morning, there was a frog in the toilet, and I'm pretty sure it was poisonous. I mean, I don't know my amphibians that well, but when the frog in your toilet is bright red, it's usually a good indication.
(interlude: the monkeys in the trees are pissing the birds off in an ungodly manner, and everything is making a ruckus)
The place I'm at right now is much more up my alley. For the same price, I have hot water (when I have water at all, that is) ...a bug net, bedding, my room is properly nice and clean (not much to ask for, non?) and it's attached to the lovely free-range, free-trade, organic vegetarian (with vegan options) restaurant I'm sitting at right now. And there's wifi...for my computer. For whatever reason, it will not work on my phone.
Goa has been...interesting, I suppose is the right word for it. I consider myself to be relatively inexperienced when it comes to the land of tropical beach vacations, so I'm not sure how much merit my opinion actually carries in the grand scheme of things. My only other experience has been Thailand, which frankly, was pretty good. The beaches, like everything else here in India, are dirtier than I think they should be. Beautiful stretches of white sand coastline, but marred by random piles of rubbish, or by ten thousand suntanning tourists. The contrast is almost comical. And there's cows. But I'm learning that cows are truly everywhere in India.
I've been to three beaches now, and I've done a ton of walking. I can't really stand to suntan for longer than an hour or two, and so, when my hour or two of sweltering in the heat is done, I go walk around (because, unlike many of the tourists here, I just can't bring myself to strip down to bikini - which I would have to purchase anyhow - in India of all places. I have seen people in thongs! IN INDIA. What on earth is wrong with you people? I get my photo taken left, right, and centre and I'm in a knee length skirt and a tshirt!)
And speaking of, what the hell Indian people? There are tourists everywhere. This whole fucking state is crawling with foreigners. Yesterday, while I was on one of the beaches (Vagator Main Beach - which by the way, would be gorgeous if it wasn't for the tour groups of Indians everywhere) I had no less than four separate groups of people approach me and ask to take a photo of me, with me, with this person, and then this person. I did it once, got annoyed, and moved. Then, sitting on a rock, I had three more people approach me, in less than a five minute span. I couldn't even read a single page at a time in my book because they interrupted me so many times. I'm never amused by this. Ever. I have TRIED to be good-natured about it, but it's just too strange for me. I allowed the first three. I would have allowed it only twice, but the third group of people was a father with his two daughters, and he approached me as "Excuse me, sister. Sister, my daughters would like a photo with you." ...sister is the English equivalent of a Hindi word, which you typically use to address a female stranger in a polite way. I can't remember the name off the top of my head, but he was polite to me, so I allowed it.
The last one, though. The last time it happened, was RIGHT after the girls, it was like, a group of men saw it happen, and thought to do it also. And I lost my temper: I exploded in a flurry of words, which in hindsight, they probably didn't understand. I said, "WHAT, have you never seen a white girl before?" ...and I got up and left.
Then, while walking between the two beaches, another Indian approached me. I was looking for seashells, which, by the way, Indians seem to think is the strangest pasttime in all the world, and an Indian man walked up to me and asked me if I lost something, so I explained, no, I'm looking for seashells. Then, he asked "Have you ever caught a fish with your hands before?" ...and then dashed off to a little tidal pool to try and catch fishes the size of my fingers. For once, here was an Indian not looking to sell me something. So we wandered around and chatted and talked, and sadly, it became pretty apparent that he was just chatting me up to get into my pants.
He entertained me for the afternoon though, until I made an awkward goodbye. He said that he was in pharmacueticals, and he was spending his weekend off work in Goa, and he lived in Mumbai. He also said that he had just gone through a breakup, and was single, and wanted to know if I was single also. I said no, and mentioned Tim, but it didn't really dissuade him. We hung out for a few hours, and at one point, we were sitting on a rock, overlooking the ocean, and he stretched behind me and said "isn't this so romantic?" ...I was tacturn, as usual. My response was no. He also bought me a soda, and asked if we could stay together the whole weekend, because he liked my company, and various other comments like this over and over, which I repeatedly avoided, responded bluntly, or any other combination of words I could come up with to say "Look buddy, but I'm not interested" ...without actually saying that. Finally, I feigned heat exhaustion, and left him to go back to my guesthouse. We agreed to meet for breakfast, and I felt bad going back on my word (this was before he put the moves on me) ...but at the very end, he said he might not make it, and not to wait for him if he didn't. I think I was stood up by an Indian man.
Which is fine, because this morning, I had breakfast and left Vagator before our appointed breakfast time. I'll never know who stood who up, and frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
Today, I walked from Vagator to Anjuna Beach, and it took about a half hour or so. I enjoyed myself: I climbed down a cliff face and sat on some volcanic rocks overlooking black sand and the Arabian Sea. I collected some sand for myself in a baggie, and read my book for a while (it's almost done already!) ...and then found the beach proper. It wasn't really any different than Little Vagator or Vagator Main Beach, the usual shops and cows and tourists. I found an organic café and wiled away some hours drinking a smoothie overlooking the ocean. It was nearly perfect. I spend probably 22 or 23 hours a day alone each day, and I've had a lot of time to think. The only thing missing is Tim. I'm enjoying the beaches, but in a bittersweet way: I can have fun for a few hours at a time, but then, the lonlieness strikes. The only type of friend making here seems to be of the "please buy something", "please get in my pants", or "please come drink alcohol with me" variety. Maybe I'm wrong and I just haven't tried hard enough. I'm not sure.
On the way back, I stopped at a massage parlour, and had an aryuvedic head/neck/face/shoulders massage. I smell of coconut, chocolate, and herbal medicines, and my face feels fantastic. I was a bit uncomfortable being topless in front of someone, even a woman, because it's been so many months since it's been okay for me to show my body to anyone (that, and I'm pretty sure, despite what I've heard of India, I'm gaining weight) ...but she was nice, and tried to make conversation in the little English she knew, and I liked it.
But I'm getting tired, and I feel like this is dragging on now, and I think I've officially lost the net, so I'm going to go and try and reconnect and post this, and then just chill out. Maybe I'll do laundry if there's running water.
Anyhow, I'm in Goa. Getting here was a royal pain in the ass, too. My flight was four hours delayed, and then I had to take an hour and a half long taxi ride from the airport to where I am now, Vagator. I was supposed to originally arrive here early in the day, and I didn't get in until well after dark. I also had an extraordinary time trying book accommodations for the full four nights I wanted to be here - so, after calling (yes, with roaming) every place I could appropriate a number for, I found a place for the first night, and then a different place for the remaining three.
The first place was...special. Or nothing special, depending on your outlook. They provided a towel, but not bedding, so I was grateful to have my Indian shawl, which is as large as some of the blankets I've been given to use in certain Thai guesthouses. The windows didn't close, and there wasn't a bug net around the bed, and you had to walk through a Western Union to get to the guesthouse. I'm glad I was only there for a night. In the morning, there was a frog in the toilet, and I'm pretty sure it was poisonous. I mean, I don't know my amphibians that well, but when the frog in your toilet is bright red, it's usually a good indication.
(interlude: the monkeys in the trees are pissing the birds off in an ungodly manner, and everything is making a ruckus)
The place I'm at right now is much more up my alley. For the same price, I have hot water (when I have water at all, that is) ...a bug net, bedding, my room is properly nice and clean (not much to ask for, non?) and it's attached to the lovely free-range, free-trade, organic vegetarian (with vegan options) restaurant I'm sitting at right now. And there's wifi...for my computer. For whatever reason, it will not work on my phone.
Goa has been...interesting, I suppose is the right word for it. I consider myself to be relatively inexperienced when it comes to the land of tropical beach vacations, so I'm not sure how much merit my opinion actually carries in the grand scheme of things. My only other experience has been Thailand, which frankly, was pretty good. The beaches, like everything else here in India, are dirtier than I think they should be. Beautiful stretches of white sand coastline, but marred by random piles of rubbish, or by ten thousand suntanning tourists. The contrast is almost comical. And there's cows. But I'm learning that cows are truly everywhere in India.
I've been to three beaches now, and I've done a ton of walking. I can't really stand to suntan for longer than an hour or two, and so, when my hour or two of sweltering in the heat is done, I go walk around (because, unlike many of the tourists here, I just can't bring myself to strip down to bikini - which I would have to purchase anyhow - in India of all places. I have seen people in thongs! IN INDIA. What on earth is wrong with you people? I get my photo taken left, right, and centre and I'm in a knee length skirt and a tshirt!)
And speaking of, what the hell Indian people? There are tourists everywhere. This whole fucking state is crawling with foreigners. Yesterday, while I was on one of the beaches (Vagator Main Beach - which by the way, would be gorgeous if it wasn't for the tour groups of Indians everywhere) I had no less than four separate groups of people approach me and ask to take a photo of me, with me, with this person, and then this person. I did it once, got annoyed, and moved. Then, sitting on a rock, I had three more people approach me, in less than a five minute span. I couldn't even read a single page at a time in my book because they interrupted me so many times. I'm never amused by this. Ever. I have TRIED to be good-natured about it, but it's just too strange for me. I allowed the first three. I would have allowed it only twice, but the third group of people was a father with his two daughters, and he approached me as "Excuse me, sister. Sister, my daughters would like a photo with you." ...sister is the English equivalent of a Hindi word, which you typically use to address a female stranger in a polite way. I can't remember the name off the top of my head, but he was polite to me, so I allowed it.
The last one, though. The last time it happened, was RIGHT after the girls, it was like, a group of men saw it happen, and thought to do it also. And I lost my temper: I exploded in a flurry of words, which in hindsight, they probably didn't understand. I said, "WHAT, have you never seen a white girl before?" ...and I got up and left.
Then, while walking between the two beaches, another Indian approached me. I was looking for seashells, which, by the way, Indians seem to think is the strangest pasttime in all the world, and an Indian man walked up to me and asked me if I lost something, so I explained, no, I'm looking for seashells. Then, he asked "Have you ever caught a fish with your hands before?" ...and then dashed off to a little tidal pool to try and catch fishes the size of my fingers. For once, here was an Indian not looking to sell me something. So we wandered around and chatted and talked, and sadly, it became pretty apparent that he was just chatting me up to get into my pants.
He entertained me for the afternoon though, until I made an awkward goodbye. He said that he was in pharmacueticals, and he was spending his weekend off work in Goa, and he lived in Mumbai. He also said that he had just gone through a breakup, and was single, and wanted to know if I was single also. I said no, and mentioned Tim, but it didn't really dissuade him. We hung out for a few hours, and at one point, we were sitting on a rock, overlooking the ocean, and he stretched behind me and said "isn't this so romantic?" ...I was tacturn, as usual. My response was no. He also bought me a soda, and asked if we could stay together the whole weekend, because he liked my company, and various other comments like this over and over, which I repeatedly avoided, responded bluntly, or any other combination of words I could come up with to say "Look buddy, but I'm not interested" ...without actually saying that. Finally, I feigned heat exhaustion, and left him to go back to my guesthouse. We agreed to meet for breakfast, and I felt bad going back on my word (this was before he put the moves on me) ...but at the very end, he said he might not make it, and not to wait for him if he didn't. I think I was stood up by an Indian man.
Which is fine, because this morning, I had breakfast and left Vagator before our appointed breakfast time. I'll never know who stood who up, and frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.
Today, I walked from Vagator to Anjuna Beach, and it took about a half hour or so. I enjoyed myself: I climbed down a cliff face and sat on some volcanic rocks overlooking black sand and the Arabian Sea. I collected some sand for myself in a baggie, and read my book for a while (it's almost done already!) ...and then found the beach proper. It wasn't really any different than Little Vagator or Vagator Main Beach, the usual shops and cows and tourists. I found an organic café and wiled away some hours drinking a smoothie overlooking the ocean. It was nearly perfect. I spend probably 22 or 23 hours a day alone each day, and I've had a lot of time to think. The only thing missing is Tim. I'm enjoying the beaches, but in a bittersweet way: I can have fun for a few hours at a time, but then, the lonlieness strikes. The only type of friend making here seems to be of the "please buy something", "please get in my pants", or "please come drink alcohol with me" variety. Maybe I'm wrong and I just haven't tried hard enough. I'm not sure.
On the way back, I stopped at a massage parlour, and had an aryuvedic head/neck/face/shoulders massage. I smell of coconut, chocolate, and herbal medicines, and my face feels fantastic. I was a bit uncomfortable being topless in front of someone, even a woman, because it's been so many months since it's been okay for me to show my body to anyone (that, and I'm pretty sure, despite what I've heard of India, I'm gaining weight) ...but she was nice, and tried to make conversation in the little English she knew, and I liked it.
But I'm getting tired, and I feel like this is dragging on now, and I think I've officially lost the net, so I'm going to go and try and reconnect and post this, and then just chill out. Maybe I'll do laundry if there's running water.
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