Paul in India

Yacht Club

I’ve just come in from the sun, and I think I just got roasted. Its supposed to be the monsoon, but I haven’t seen any rain yet. I don’t think even the rain would get through my half inch layer of sunblock, mosquito repellant and holy water, but somehow the sun has, and I’m turning a worrying shade of red.
This is the hottest weather I have ever experienced, but I feel I have adapted to most things here. Its a great feeling when you are drivng around in a taxi, and rather than gawking your head out the window, you can relax and even daydream. Everything is still so completely different, but not just as completely different as my first day. I’m taking this as a positive sign and I’m running with it.

Goa is a collection of some 40 beaches, some a bit tacky, some a bit hippy and some really high class. The Arabian Sea is vast, the palm tress are lush and the sand is white. It’s very beautiful, but of course most beach sides are crammed with sales huts, bars and guest houses. As it’s the off season, it’s quite quiet, so I’m not sure what I’ll get up to this evening. I may just take a shit load of acid and rent a moped. I have made a few ‘friends’ here, although, between me and you, I’m a little cautious. Everyone here follows you around asking you to come into their shops. They ask your name, which I thought was harmless enough,  until you come back the same way, and thirty Indian saleswoman are screaming PAUL! draped in necklaces, ornaments and small animals. I really want to get into the market culture, and, God forbid, maybe BUY something, but its all just so much at once, you end up running away and hiding. And crying. ( Well, ok, maybe not crying ). One guy stopped me, and lamented that no Europeans ever talk to him, and he couldn’t understand this. We chatted for a while, and he seemed lovely. He invited me to have beers with him and his friends later. I believe this is because:

1. He is a genuinely nice guy, and wants me to have beers with him and his friends later, or

2. He intends to rob me, and get tropical with my virginity with his friends later

I really don’t want to shut myself off from great expriences, but you do find that most people are just looking for a quick buck. You feel like a western snob if you don’t stop and talk, but if you stop you are quickly surrounded, and they will not let you go til you buy something. So, I’m sure that this guy is really genuine, but you just have to be careful. And also, I don’t want to miss my date with Jatin the restaurant man who is going to talk me throught Ireland v New Zealand in the cricket tonight.
I did decide to give in to one woman in beautiful traditional dress. She invited me to sit down in a hut, and straight away we were surrounded by other sellers. My heart sank when I saw she didn’t have a stall, but just a bag full of stuff, and this was her life. Not just because this was sad, but because I was not remotely interested in buying any of it. I bought a few things, had my first experience of haggling, and left thoroughly rooked with nothing to show for it but some suspiciously dull ‘silver’ trinkets. My aggressive negotiating strategy got under her skin- I think I just stopped short of bursting into tears an begging her to take all of my money. 
My last night in Mumbai was excellent. I went to see some traditional dance which was moving and stunning. These dancers dedicate their whole lives to something so pure- I can’t think of a western analogue. The dance moves have been around for thousands of years, and are quite spooky. I’m starting to pick up a little bit about Hinduism (  Krishna was a terrible flirt ), and it’s all very mysterious. I was able to meet the dancer afterwards, with her teacher, who is renowned throughout India. I didn’t know whether to bow, smile or kiss her; I think I just gurned at her looking constipated and dull. I tried to tell her it was an honour, but I think I came across a bit Steve Mc Laren, so I stopped right there.

Next we went to ‘The Yacht Club’, a relic of British India which was delightful and offensive in equal measures. Of course the British left nice buildings and trains, but their legacy here is similar to their legacy in Drogheda. The company I was with were wonderful- smart, funny, taking great care of me, and I owe them a lot.

Things are still going great, getting around has been relatively easy, and really enjoyable. The overnight train from Mumbai was amazing. I met some really nice guys who genuinely offered to take me with them and pay for my weekend if I stayed with them in their hotel. I considered, but Pete and Tags would never have let me away with it.

I am still reeling from when a salesmen in a attempt to charm me into his stall asked me if I was from Congo. I really like it here though, my hotel is nice, and I might stay here for two nights. I’ll just hang by the pool and put out the vibe.