Today we explored the entire coast of North Goa by scooter. We stopped by the following beaches:

 

 

Anjuna

Just a long thin strip of sand backed by guesthouse and restaurants. There’s a small touristy souvenir market at the northern end of the beach. Supposed to be the capital of the Goan party/rave scene, but barely anyone was there when we were. Overall, not too impressive.

 

 

Vagator

Rocky headland with small, flat, shadeless beaches on either side. A fort dominates the hill behind the beaches. There’s a ton of Indian tourists taking photos and checking out the tide pools. Again no reason to stay…the beach has no shade.

 

(just in case these pictures made you forget we were in India) 

Arambol

The most northern of Goa’s beaches, this place is full of hippies. A few chill restaurants on the beach. Maybe too many hippies. We saw a dude with waist long hair and a loincloth-thong-thing frolicking in the waves. A swimmable beach with more Westerners than Indians (which means females can strip down to swimwear without awkward stares). It’s a really long beach without very many people. We spent the most time here today and would recommend it.

 

 

More than seeing all the beaches, I enjoyed exploring the countryside. Goa’s beaches are nice, but I think inland may be even better. On our way from the train station to Calangute, Joylani and I noticed the bright green colors of Goa. Today we zoomed through the fields and fields and fields of all shades of green. Just seeing the bright green paddies and coconut plantations would’ve been enough. But zooming through the fields and sleepy beach towns on our scooters was amazing. It was just a scooter, but it was still exhilarating to turn that handle and accelerate, feeling the wind in our faces, and feeling the 100 degree heat cool in the wind. It was an exciting day, but a lazy one too. A snack and walk at Vagator, lunch at Arambol, and chai at Anjuna. How much better (or lazier depending on how you look at it) does it get; beach to beach, meal to meal, all while exploring the vibrant countryside.

 

The Portuguese took control of Goa by the mid-fifteen hundreds. They ruled it 400 years, until India seized it 1961 (nearly 15 years after Indian independence). Yet the Portuguese influence has left its legacy both on the place and its people. Although the uniqueness of Goa is immediately apparent, our trip to Old Goa (once said to rival Lisbon in grandeur) today has instigated this article.

 

The Place

Look at a map of Goa and you’ll immediately see that the airport is in Vasco de Gama. And although some major cities and beaches have been renamed, most people still use the old Portuguese names. Arriving in Goa, it is impossible not to notice the Iberian architecture. Besides all the cathedrals and chapels, the buildings are white or pastel-painted. Additionally, most homes have tile porches enclosed by short little pillared (for lack of a better description) wall and a wrought iron gate. If there weren’t so many Indians around, you’d think you were in Central America. Yet, even some of the Goans don’t look like most Indians.

 

The People

Joylani’s pointed out a few people to me, who “have Portuguese blood for sure.” When I ask her how she knows for sure, she says because they look like all the people she went to school with (apparently Arcata has a sizable Portuguese population). Regardless of how they look, a fair amount of Goans still speak Portuguese (most in addition to their native Konkan, as well as Hindi and English). Yet, perhaps the largest difference between Goa and Hindustan (Hindi for India, literally meaning land of the Hindus), is that a large percentage of Goans are Catholic. All the little shrines have Jesus, Mary, or a saint in them, instead of a Hindu god. And instead of burning candles, incense, and hanging marigolds around Hindu shrines in their homes/restaurants, they have Catholic shrines or crosses with the usual flowers or candles. Instead of Hindu names, the buses all have the name of saint, usually also displayed inside the bus with a wreath of flowers, flashing LEDs, and an electric candle- very Indian still, but Catholic. One of the switches in our room even controls the electric candle on a shelf with Catholic portraits. The funny thing about Goa is even some of the Hindu temples and shrines are built in the Portuguese/Catholic style of pastel colors and European architecture. The confluence of culture and religion can be confusing. In the US, it seems fairly easy to separate culture and religion. Yet in India, oftentimes culture is religion and vice versa, so Goa was extremely interesting in this sense (and as topic could fill volumes). A few of the ways in which Goan Catholic culture was manifested: women wore an antiquated style of dresses (which I assume was from European missionaries), alcohol was way more prevalent in public, and many men had “Christian names” like John or George.

 

Goa embodies India in that it’s different. So often India is stereotyped by the so-called Hindi-belt (stretching across North India from Kutch to Bengal), but Goa is different in everyway. From language to landscape, it’s an interesting and unique place.

Today’s the first sunny day in three. It’s rained pretty much nonstop for the past two days, so its nice to be able to get out and walk around town. You know just hang at the beach and be lazy. You may find that statement comical considering we’re on somewhat of an extended vacation, but I heard even worse today. Joylani and I were sitting on some beach chairs under an umbrella earlier today. Next to us was a couple; the guy was just watching the ocean, while his girlfriend was getting a massage (there’s a ton of people that walk along the beach offering massages). They sat there for another 15 or 20 minutes after her massage ended, before getting up to leave. One of the waiters said, “Where you going? You know you can just sit here and relax- you don’t have to buy anything…” To which the girl responded, “I think we’re going to go and rest for a bit.” Joylani whispered to me, “What the heck have they been doing for the past hour?!” The past five days have flown by. Two days of hanging around our hotel doing nothing because it was raining, two days at the beach, one night at the most popular club in town, Tito’s (whose Hip-Hop Night was disappointing), one night of watching the England-India cricket match. We’ve hung out with our next-door neighbor Matt a good deal too. He and I share a beer in the late afternoons, after which the three of us go to dinner. Joylani joined us one afternoon to try some fenny, which is a local spirit made of coconut or cashew. It’s not as tasty as rum, but better than nasty vodka. But at approximately 1.25 USD for 750 mL bottle, who cares. Still, I prefer beer. If you can’t tell yet, it’s been an aimless few days, but I like Goa. I like it more than when I visited last time. I could stay here awhile. Our place is remote, but nice. The beach is just steps away. The town is small, but it has everything as it must accommodate thousands of tourists during the winter. Right now, the pace is slow. Before we leave, I do have some goals though: see more of Goa (the major cities, some other beaches, as well as the country) and start taking more photos again. Goa definitely is not as foreign as Ladakh, but since Orchha I’ve really failed to capture some great shots. It’s tough to travel, enjoy a place, and document it through writing/photography all at the same time. But I’m gonna really try. This post like our time here is rather aimless and random.

 

Today was one of those rare days in life when everything seems perfect. I slowly woke up on the train this morning to the chai-wallahs. I am not a morning person (especially after talking until two in the morning with a couple of our bunk mates who were curious about America), so lazily waking up to a cup of chai as the jungle-covered hills of Maharastra passed by was great. The night before, we had met a guy with a great name (Matt) who was on his way home from a two-year Peace Corps stint in China. Like the evening before, we talked on and off all morning. By noon, we had reached our stop in Goa, just a small rural station from which we took a small bus to Mapusa, and then one to Calangute. Calangute is the most developed of the beaches, but we chose it for two reasons. One is that its supposed to be quieter during the offseason and, two, many of the other beaches would be dead before the tourist season. As we (Joylani and I, and our new buddy Matt) walked down the main road that ran perpendicular into the beach, the ocean came into view. Not the bay or industrial port of Bombay, but the beautiful light green Arabian Sea lapping up against golden Goan shores. Having been on the train all morning, the first thing we did was sit down at a restaurant on the beach.

After some kingfish, prawn fried rice, and an ice-cold beer, we introduced Matt to our usual gameplan when first arriving in a place. And I’ll outline it for you as well: The first thing we do in a new place is eat. This accomplishes two things; one it rids us of an annoying rickshaw driver who is intent on “helping” us find a room (rickshaw drivers get a commission when bringing people to a hotel, which gets tacked on to the room rates we get quoted) and gives us a chance to relax and recharge after hours or days of travel. Secondly, after eating, Joylani stays at the restaurant with the bags, while I do a circuit of 5-10 guesthouses. We do this for several reasons as well. One, neither of us has to miserably trudge around in the Indian heat in our backpacks- Joylani gets to sit and I get to walk quickly backpack-free. Two, I can check out a lot more guesthouses in a shorter time without all the weight and get better rates (perhaps because Joylani’s not with me or maybe because I make it clear I’m quickly shopping around). Anyways, it works out well for us and it did this time. Joylani chilled in the shade of the restaurant, while Matt and I checked out a half-dozen guesthouses. I was ready to head back and give Joylani the options (a big room but expensive, a cheap one but far from the beach, or a substandard room right on the beach), when a guy and his girlfriend pulled up on a motorcycle and asked if we were looking for a room. They told us they were on their way out of Goa, but that the place up the road was REALLY nice, so we checked it out. It was awesome- clean, hot water, balcony, 10 second walk to the beach, it even had a safe. Even better, I negotiated a price below even what I thought was possible (Usually I ask for the room rate, they quote me one, I ask for the best price, they lower it, I ask what if I stay x number of days, they sometimes lower it more, and then I’ll offer an even lower price, which sometimes like this case, they accept) (But if its fair price off the bat, I’ll just take it, despite probably being able to get it lower).  It was by far the best room I saw there and maybe the nicest room we’ve stayed in India thus far. We took one room and Matt took next door.

After getting Joylani and getting settled, we threw on our beach clothes and walked all 30 seconds to the water. The sand was soft and feet sank in as we walked. The ocean roared as a half-dozen waves continually broke parallel to the shore. The water was warmer than the late afternoon air, which was being cooled by a perfect breeze. Looking down the beach in both directions, salty mist rose above the wave-pounded beach. After walking for awhile, we contented ourselves to just sit on ribbon of sand sandwiched between a coconut plantation and the Arabian Sea.

We finished our night with a bright orange and pink sunset, a filling dinner, and just as I started my day, a cup of chai.

Anything my mom makes.

Blueberry muffins.

Carrot cake and cream cheese frosting.

Dark chocolate.

Edamame.

Fish tacos from Wahoos.

Guacamole too.

Ham.

I…

Just want to eat…

Kalua pig.

Laulau.

Mexican food.

Nutella.

Olives.

Pho. Poi. Pumpkin Pie. Peanut butter.

Quaker Instant Oatmeal: peaches and cream

Rice. Cal Rose of course.

Soy Dream. Soy nuts. Soy milk.

Tofu.

Uncooked veggies.

Veggie burritos.

Wine. White cheddar Cheese-its.

Xcept not…

Yak butter tea…

Zigga zaa.

After wandering around rural central India for the past week, arriving in Mumbai was quite a shock. Emerging from the British-built Gothic CST station, complete with gargoyles, we found ourselves in the heart of south Mumbai. Adequately paved roads and even sidewalks, no rickshaws, legions of commuters (many in suits), the ocean. Being in Bombay was much like being in Western city, except populated by Indians of course. It’s India’s financial epicenter and a showcase for its modernization/Westernization.

We decided on a place in Colaba (the most touristy district of Mumbai), due to its close proximity to Mumbai’s “sights.” The neighborhood we stayed in was predominantly Muslim. Besides little circle hats, long beards, kurtas, and Urdu signage, it was cool because Ramadan started midway through our stay. All the Muslim-owned restaurants closed during the day, while the prayer room across the street was still busy throughout the day. The kebabs and tandooris were excellent, while seafood was widely available as well. Interestingly though, the food was also my first insight into the cities liberalization. Beef was available at a few Muslim-run restaurants, while Goan restaurants often offered pork. The restaurants had alcohol on the menu, while I glimpsed the first real bars/clubs I’ve seen thusfar (in India on this trip). But there were other signs of the liberalization as well. Taking a sunset walk along Marine Drive one night, we saw dozens of couples holding hands or with an arm slung over another’s shoulder. I guess cultural liberalization follows modernization, or is it the other way around?…still not sure.

(unrelated sidenote: could Lee get away with an add like this in PC America?)

Besides all the British architecture and modern buildings, Bombay has few attractions. Exploring Chowpatty beach was interesting, with tons of food stalls and cuddling couples. I heard it’s a nasty place, but it seemed okay to me, perhaps because we saw it at night, its dinginess covered. Another interesting thing was that Ganesh Chaturthi (The Ganesh Festival) began on our last night there. Beginning late that last night and throughout our last day, Ganesh idols were paraded through the city by families. Usually the family was accompanied by several drummers and some kids lighting off firecrackers. The idols were taken to homes, only to be immersed in water (the ocean, a lake, etc) at the end of the multi-day festival. While the modernity of Bombay, the beginning of Ramadan and Ganesh Chaturthi, and sociological observations were all interesting, I think we stayed in Bombay a couple days too long. We explored the city, saw a few museums and checked out a few traveling exhibitions, but Bombay doesn’t really have that many attractions. Its just one of those cities that seems like a great place to live, but not to visit as a tourist.