Sunday, March 10, 2013

My Final Days in Goa

My Final Days in Goa

    I write this piece after being back in Canada for several weeks. With this in mind I am starting to think that my time in Goa may have been my favourite. I do feel that each place I traveled had its own uniqueness, charm, character, and significance in my Indian travels, however Goa . . . Goa held its own!
    My partner in crime, Rachy, was scheduled to head back to Canada on the 3rd of January. The crew that I was hanging with in Arambol were scheduled to leave around the 4th or the 5th to head back to Delhi. My plan was to be in Kerala no later than the 6th of January. Well that was the plan. But for some reason every time I would plan to leave or look into how to get to Kerala I would delay, postpone, or procrastinate the task at hand. It seemed that as long as there was a party still going on in Goa, I was willing to be there. And so it goes . . . I continued living life at the beach and loving it.
    As it turned out the entire crew in Arambol didn’t leave on the 4th. However slowly slowly, or deerey deerey (slowly slowly in Hindi, phonetic spelling), people would trickle out and back to their lives . . . Wherever that was.

 A trip to the Anjuna night market

    Every Saturday night everyone and their brother heads to Anjuna for the evening night market. Those who were left of the crew had now become the social coordinators. We planned a trip to the night market plus a couple of British girls who were looking to go as well. Between the eight of us we split two cabs and headed to Anjuna. Driving to Anjuna takes about a half hour to forty five minutes. However we must have sat in the cab for at least 30 minutes edging slightly closer and closer to the entrance of the night market. Like I said everyone and their brother headed to Anjuna making it  a bustling centre of activity. We finally made it into the market, only after verbally securing a return trip back to Arambol with our drivers by getting their mobile numbers and confirming a time. The thought of being stuck in Arambol late into the night with no chance of getting back to Arambol was less than desirable. 
    Inside the market was just as crazy as outside, however with so many things to view and potentially purchase that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. I wasn’t in the market for anything, literally. Truth be told I had heard that the Anjuna market was way overpriced and not as agreeable to bargaining; a skill which I became much better at while in India. That being said I was intrigued by what I saw. Surprisingly, an incredibly high percentage of the vendors were Westerners. The night market was not full of local India vendors, but North Americans, Europeans, and Australians. All of whom were selling products or handicrafts at the same cost as that in these Western countries. I was shocked and a little bit appalled. It seemed to me that Westerners try to take over and capitalize on whatever they can. One would think that tourists visiting India would want to purchase Indian items and support the India economy. Indirectly whatever is purchased at the night market would still contribute to the India economy by some percentage. But it still would be by non-Indians capitalizing on the India tourist market, which seems kind of unfair, or unjust. Either way it really wasn’t what I was there for, which was just to experience the market. And so I did.
    I grouped with two of the boys Nebi, and Thomas. We sauntered around looking at masks, clothes, instruments, or anything that seemed somewhat interesting. Then we came across a security tower. This is what I love about boys (caution: HUGE generalization) they will propose options such as- lets climb the security tower!!! I am pretty sure that if I had been with a girl friend the thought never would have crossed our minds. Not with boys. The little, devious, and adventurous child comes out and considers something I would never consider as a real option, an option! It is fabulous!
    Come to think of it I think it started off as a dare, Nebi daring Tomas, or the other way around. Either way one of the boys started climbing the ladder. Once we realised that no one was stopping us, or even noticing what we were up to, we all started climbing the security tower. We climbed as high as we could go, which basically meant until there were no more ladders to climb. We passed all the security monitors, another sign that this was not an ‘Indian market’; security cameras/monitors would not exist or be afforded!!! Then we were at the top of the tower looking down on everything! There was a great Latino band playing fantastic music. There were people dancing below. Others were eating, drinking, smoking, wandering through the maze of the market. It was a sight to be seen indeed! In fact I think the only reason the night market was so memorable was because of this trip up the security tower and the ability to gain a different perspective. For a while Nebi, Tomas, and I seemed to just get lost in watching everything. We were all so quiet and still, an uncommon occurrence for sure. Usually we would be chatting, joking around, and generally being silly. I think we all had a moment up there. A moment where life seems to stop and you somehow gain this objective view of everything in existence. It doesn’t last long, but it is a nice reprieve before you get thrown back in and everything starts up again. Which is sure enough what happened. Nebi, Tomas, and I probably had a good half hour up in the security tower before security found us! Ha ha ha J We noticed security rapidly climbing the stairs towards us, so we rapidly descended the stairs towards them. I don’t even know if any words were exchanged, but we understood that it was time for us to come back down.
   
Illegally Blonde

   
    When you read or hear about Goa and all its specificities you learn that the police in Goa are a) incredibly corrupt and b) corruptly rule the province. This is shown mainly in the bribes that most tourists have to pay the Goan police officers. Most tourists in Goa rent motorbikes and scooters and use them to drive to the many different beaches along the Goan coastline. And most tourists on motorbikes end up being pulled over by the police and forced to pay a bribe. Before arriving in Goa I was told about this. I even read about it in the Lonely Planet. Even if you have a license, registration, you are wearing a helmet, and are driving according to all the rules of the road the police will create some sort of reason that you are in fact committing an offence and will ask for a bribe. This happens so frequently that I even took to carrying smaller amounts of money just so I wouldn’t loose too much if we did get stopped.
    Up until my last day in Goa I had been safe. Rachy and I had never had a run in with the police and never had to pay a bribe. However my luck had run out on this particular day. Phoebe and I were driving back to Arambol, from Anjuna to my guest house Om Star. We were both having a moment as we drove across this beautiful bridge that had the ocean on one side and a vast inlet on the other. The sun reflecting off my sunglasses, golden blonde locks billowing in the wind, and the strong breeze whipping across our tanned skin. Both Phoebe and I were both feeling the glory that is life!
    Just over the bridge I see a police vehicle stationed at the side of the road and several police officers. “Shit!” I thought “we are going to be pulled over”. Sure enough they waved me and my golden blonde hair over to the side of the road. At this point I had wished I had gotten Phoebe to drive because I might have been overlooked if they had seen her, a local Goan, and not me. Jittery and terrified I pulled over to pay the piper. The officer dealing with us interrogated us both. Asking where we were coming from, where we were going, where we were from. I was sure that the fact that Phoebe was from Goa would be our get out of jail card free, but nope! There is a local Goan language called  (yes, same as the Canadian beer). The officer started speaking to Phoebe in kocani, but unfortunately she is unable to speak it. The offer said he was going to confiscate our motorbike.  I was waiting for the “or you can pay me . . .” but it didn’t come. I started to panic as I was sure we were pulled over for a pay off and not for the police to actually confiscate our rented bike.  Knowing this I sprung to action asking the officer to lay out all our options. BTW he was detaining us because I , of course, didn’t have my drivers license with me. After I said this the officer then said he would either take the bike until the motorbike renter came, paid the fine, and claimed the bike, OR  pay him 1200 rupees. I knew it! Like I mentioned, I didn’t carry around huge amounts of rupees on me for this very reason. I mumbled out that I only had 500 on me. With that the officer said ‘no problem’ and gestured for the money. I went to the bike grabbed the 500 rupees from my wallet (equivalent to ten Canadian dollars), paid the officer and Phoebe and I went on our merry way! I wont deny that I wasn’t shaken up from the whole experience. But was relieved that nothing tragic or devastating happened. Also really happy that I didn’t pay 1200 Rupees, or get the bike confiscated. I managed my first Indian bribe!! Who knew I had in it me ?!?!?!?

Four holes; three piercings

     December 30th, 2012 I went with my dear friend Rachy to get my nose and my left ear lobe pierced. It was my objective to mimic the Indian fashion. It is customary for Indian brides to have a gold, or silver chain connecting these two piercings. I have always admired this and wanted to get this done for myself. Rachy and I found a clean and safe tattoo/piercing parlour in Morjim, a neighbouring beach, whereby we could both get our piercings. 
    On this day we drove our rental scooter over to Morjim for our piercings. I went first. Interesting fact; my piercer, Sandra informed me that there is actually a pressure point on the nose, at the point where I was to be pierced. Once pierced this pressure point actually helps lessen the pain when a woman gives birth, which is why Indian women get this pierced.
    I have to say this piercing meant so much to me that the joy from it made the pain seem incomparable. I did shed some tears but most were happy ones. The experience was so profound that it actually brought tears of joy to my piercer as well. It was a beautifully powerful experience. I could NOT stop smiling. I was grinning ear to ear the entire time. This piercing was something I had wanted for such along time and to finally be achieving it after such a long time was very special and was yet another dreams to come true. Pretty cool!
    That was Dec.30th. Dec 31st my nose piercing came out!!! Unlike a nose piercing, the only kind I have previously had, nose rings come out very easily. If they get the slightest tug or pull from . . . Anything, a towel, your hand, even a face tissue has snagged mine, it can come out. Once I realised my piercing was out I was already inebriated and somewhat uncomfortable with trying to fix the situation. I tried putting in back in, but failed. I tried again, no luck. I tried again but became incredibly nauseous as, like I mentioned, this is a pressure point with many nerves and sensitivities. Fiddling around, trying to put the nose ring back in was causing too much stimulus to the point and making me incredibly nauseous! I guess it is negligent to deny the fact that alcohol could have also had a factor in the equation. By the time I had slept off my boozy new years’ eve and gained assistance with putting the ring back in, the hole had closed up! Unfortunate, yes I know, but an experience nonetheless.
    A couple of days after Rachy had left I booked another appointment with Sandra, headed back to Morjim, and got my nose re-pierced. She took pity on me for my closed hole and felt remorse for not giving me fair warning about the delicacy of the piercing. I cannot say that the second time round had as much of an impact as the first, but I was happy to have my piercing back and was determined to take better care of it the second time round! While I was in Morjim for the re-piercing I noticed another woman getting a second nose piercing. She had both sides of her nose pierced. I had never considered that an option before but I really liked the look of it. It was feminine and beautiful, but strong and distinguishing as well. It struck me and stuck with me as I considered it for myself. I do have two nostrils and lots of extra space for a piercing!!!
    My last day in Arambol. My Goan cousin Phoebe and I met up in Anjuna. She took me to the most popular spot in Anjuna, Curlies, where ‘everyone’ goes. It was late afternoon, the sun was silently sinking beyond the Arabian sea and my days in Goa were coming to an end. As we sat at the beach chatting I casually mentioned my nose piercing and the possibility of getting the other side of my nose done as well. Phoebe mentioned her desire to get her nose re-pierced because her hole had closed up. She mentioned a piercer she had just met and spent some time with named Sandra. It couldn’t be the same woman. We both pulled out our phones and confirmed the phone number of ‘Sandra the piercer’, and sure enough it was the same woman. Phoebe was sure this was ‘meant to be’ and was adamant that we call her and book dual piercing appointments for our nose.
    After much back and forth confirmations and declinations the next day Sandra met us in Arambol to pierce of noses! Because we couldn’t go to her studio she came to our guesthouse. The owner, who I am buddies with, was great and let us use one of the vacant rooms. Sandra still set up the same way; cleaned and sterilized everything as any professional would do. This time I wanted someone else to go first. Sandra pierced Phoebe’s nose while I watched. I cringed and clenched as the needle went through Phoebes’ nose. It seemed to hurt a great deal and her poor little nose bled. Sandra said if you have alcohol in your system then you are much more likely to bleed from a piercing. I had remembered this from the time before so I guzzled water all morning as it had been a night of ‘Old Monk’ rum the eve before!
    Then it was my turn. I don’t know why I was more anxious for this piercing than the first, or the second, or the third for that matter. I focused on my breathing and relaxed as much as I could. When the needle went through I felt a burst of energy shoot through my being and up out of my head. The pain was strong and overwhelming. So much so that I felt myself fading and gave way to fainting. Seeing this, Sandra acted quickly grabbed my water bottle and poured it over my head. I quickly came to and regained consciousness. WOW! All this sensation, intensity, and drama over a small little point on my nose. Overwhelmed was definitely an accurate description. That being said the piercing was done and the task accomplished! I now had two nose piercings; one on either side, and I loved them both!
    I have never been one to want or be interested in piercings. In contrast to my best friend who has many different piercings ranging from an industrial (metal bar through upper ear), to her septum (middle of chin, through lower lip), and now two, symmetrical, lower lip piercings, I was never that girl. I refused to get my ears pierced even though most women have them pierced. I really wasn’t interested in any of it. But I feel very attached to these piercings and really like what they add to ‘my look‘. I feel as though it is another aspect of my character coming out and it makes me feel my uniqueness. Even more so, they have meaning, a story, and a bit of a history. Yes they are a pain in the ass sometimes and they still get caught and pulled by different things. But they have taught me to be more gentle with myself and more thoughtful with how I treat my nose. All in all I feel that the four holes and three piercings were a great addition to my trip and a lovely addition to Stephanie! Yes, in the third person ;)



  

     My last days in Goa were unique and quite lovely. I really didn't want to leave. That being said there wasn't much of a party after everyone had left. It was important that I moved on as well. I am so thankful for my time in Goa and in particular my last days. It was a truly memorable experience. I shall return again soon :)