Decision

I had decided some time ago that I was going to renew my Visa and stay 6 more months in India. However, I had not decided where, how or if I was going to volunteer before or after renewing it. Agonda made me see things clear.

I had found an organization that appealed to me to do some volunteering in spite of all its restrictive conditions. But more on volunteering at its right moment. The thing is that I had decided that my first months in India should be for myself, volunteering after the renewal of the Visa. On those premises, as I was heading south, the logical thing to do was to fly to Sri Lanka and do all the processing there. And this is the reason why I thought going to Hampi was a good idea.

But fate again would change my plans. For those who don't know, Sri Lanka has been in a civil war since 1983 between the government and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), who seek for an independent state. And just when I had decided to go, the peace treaty had been broken and the Tamils had attacked the south, thing they usually did not do, killing all passengers of a bus. Though Tamils have openly said not wanting to hurt foreigners not to be considered a terrorist organization, the truth is that if you're in that bus, there are no distinctions for bullets.

So I got to Hampi worried of what to do. I measured other possibilities, like going to Thailand, Malaysia or Bangladesh, but other than Bangladesh, I felt I wanted to dedicate some time to those countries, and not just get in and out. And I wasn't ready to spend some time there, I was in a hurry to settle up for a while. My main objective in coming to India seemed to be vanishing, and I needed to recover it soon.

The most reasonable and easy procedure was to go to Nepal. This I had decided in Hampi, and it meant going back north. Based on this decision, it made no sense going to Hampi after Agonda if I wanted to keep on going south. However, what to do about the south was my next question. Skip it all? Go south and get a plane to Katmandu? I would go to Gokarna and then north via Mumbai, Bundi and Varanasi.

I was a bit pissed with all this changing of plans and my not great time in Hampi, but something positive had come out it all together, not only I was doing a lot of introspection on my decisions so far, but I had not been carrying all my winter clothes for nothing.

The 3rd should be the last

In Agonda I get an email from Jeff, one from Carrol and one from Dan and Charlotte saying that they were in Hampi. Great! I should go there and try to catch up with them. When I first heard of this, I had not spend enough time with Carro to know there were things I would not stand from her too long. She also wanted to go to Hampi, and so we decided to go together.

Hampi was a place to be seen, and everyone talked really nice about it. Though my original plan was to keep on south and skip Hampi, the idea of familiar faces and another environment with no drugs involved appealed to me.

And so, the third mistake.

I felt again out of place in Hampi. Carro had some Swedish friends there, but I had only caught up with Jeff for a couple of days, Hugh for a couple of minutes, and the rest I had missed. Jeff told me Dan and Charlotte where on their way to Varanasi. Carrol was already in Bangalore on her one month meditation and yoga course.

Hanging around with Carro and her friends was more than boring. It always happens when you're in a group of people of the same country. Israelis seem to be the worst so far on this matter. Furthermore, my host was the last person to make an effort to speak in English. No point in spending my time with them. So I went my way and avoided them as much as I could and met new people. However, I had to force the situation, feeling sometimes uncomfortable. The group I met were very nice and friendly, but it was a group already formed, and getting in is not easy.

Another mistake had been made as I had not made a decision on what I really wanted to do, maybe, cause I didn't really know. I had been at a loss for some time I guess. I had gone to Hampi searching for familiar faces to find balance again in a new surrounding. I missed it, and as an end, my time in Hampi wasn't as everyone had talked about it.

The worst thing is that in Hampi I had changed my expected itinerary allowing me to go to Hampi later on, in a more reasonable route. But this shall be explained in another post.

A place to remember

Despite my discomfort within the group, Agonda offered, for where I've been and what I've seen, the best place to stay in Goa. A long beach where turtles go to lay their eggs. Full guest houses, but empty restaurants. But this is not the best of Agonda.

The beach is indeed nice, but I think that the only existing road offers much more life. Along the road taxi drivers insist constantly on a ride to Palolem or wherever necessary. Bargain is very difficult with them, they have the power to get you out of there, and they know it, so it can get expensive. However, they are nice.

A couple of of little Indian restaurants offer a warm atmosphere to meet other people or simply have a cheap meal.

At one both sides of the road, houses mix up with guest houses and restaurants, though you can see more of the latest on the sea side. Crossing the road leads you to houses, a creek and jungle. A boat ride is also available on this creek.

Both ends of the beach offer the possibility to keep on exploring on foot, or you can rent a kayak and do it by sea, finding new corners and coves.

The place where I stayed seemed to be the right spot to stay as well. A room attached to an Indian family house with 3 kids, a couple of puppies and very attentive landowners. Remy, made everything look OK and even the night of Matt's and I little adventure, when we actually yelled Claire's name and knocked heavily on the door trying to wake her up, he acted as nothing had happened. All he was that he came outside to see if we where OK.

It was all about shanti, shanti in a nice surrounding. Indeed, a place to return, a place to remember.

An adventure

Discovering around the cliffs in Agonda opened my hungriness for some excitement. Go wondering around the cliffs or around the jungle nearby. Something that implied moving instead of laying down getting stoned all day.

It wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but I took it. On the party at Patnem beach Matt asked me if I was up to exploring with bike in search of the music we had heard before somewhere nearby. At that point, I was extremely bored, and without second thoughts I agreed to the idea. Under rigorous eyes, it wasn't a good idea at all. Matt was driving the moped and he was high on drugs. Not to mention Indian driving and surprise obstacles like dogs, cows or whatever else you;re capable of imagining.

On our search, we got to this really posh resort right next to a beach. We went to check it out. Had no problem in getting in, but when we got to the beach, ready to explore on foot, two Indians warned us of how dangerous it was. What was dangerous? How was it dangerous? They couldn't tell. But they did say two tourists had died there a couple of years ago, but couldn't tell how either. At that point it all got a bit weird, and we decided to get the hell out of there.

After more searching and almost getting lost, we ended up at a 24 hour bar to get a bite and a drink. But the possibility of everything going wrong had not ceased. The bike did not indicate the amount of gas it had left, Matt was still on the effects of drugs, which would last until the morning and it was fucking freezing.

We made it back just before the bike run out of gas when Matt going back to his place. But he was up for more excitement, so unconscious of the time it was, we thought Claire might be awake. Not only she wasn't awake, but she had locked the door and I couldn't get in. I must add, that we were sharing the room, so I was supposed to get in sooner or later. So with our banging and yelling we managed to wake Remy up, the owner of the guest house, but not Claire. Under the perspective of having to stay outside, Remy let me stay in the other room for the night. Matt went back to his place.

Knock, knock, knock...

Matt looking for some hash. That was the end of the adventure. It wasn't a hell of adventure, but it sure felt good.

Yoga class II

After a day with Carro at the beach and exploring the surroundings, we went on the search of yoga classes. I did not like my first try back in Rishikesh, but I did admitted it was a good way of stretching and giving some exercise to your body.

So I decided to give it a second chance. To my surprise, I was delighted! After 3 classes in a row, I was decisive to keep on with it on my next destination which would end up being Hampi. Fate was not on my side for this either, as always I've been planning to keep on with yoga classes I got sick. It happened when I got to Hampi and when I got to Varanasi. I would have to wait to be volunteering to practice yoga again.

An unexpected mistake

Though I was looking forward to travel alone, I was out to meet with Vagator again. And again I somehow managed to feel out of place. This time I was responsible for not fitting in the group, though I knew them all. But the vibe surrounding this little group of people hadn't seem to change from that in Vagator. Drugs were still on the scene and I was fed up with them.

I managed to do my way most of the time, but group activities are difficult to avoid. I didn't want to totally exclude myself either. We were to go to two parties where I again did not fit in and got bored.

My new tattoo didn't help much either. It avoided me from beach activities such as sunbathing or swimming, and any other activity under the sun, which meant getting sweaty and not able to go for a swim in the sea to refresh. That got me a bit stand-offish. So the programmed boat ride along a small creek while getting stoned didn't appeal to me either. It meant walking in the sun for a while. And frankly, I needed some activity, and getting stoned wasn't my best option.

However, despite the apparent general discomfort I was submerged in, good things also happened.

Tattoo

I had been emailing with Claire since I left Mc Leod and I had told her I wasn't going to be in Arambol, and that most probably, Gill or Matt weren't going to be in Vagator either. On what was supposed to be my last day, Matt appeared happily along the beach, tired of spending the whole time in Vagator. We were to meet at night along with Charlotte to see Rohan and Shamboo play.

My neighbor, a Swedish girl I could never learn her name, accompanied me to the concert, which really sucked. That was just noise coming out of a speaker and none of my friends were around. We headed to get some food, when we bumped into Matt and Charlotte. And suddenly, a red figure cries my attention. I turn around. Fuck sake! It was Claire. As when meeting up with Jamie, we embraced in a warm hug.

I learned later on that Matt, Gill, Eddie and Carro where going to Agonda as well and Claire was receptive to join in the gang, but she had just got to Arambol and wanted to spend a couple of days there. So we agreed to leave in two days.

On the waiting, I met an acquaintance of Matt who had just had done a beautiful tattoo that had taken 4 hours. Apparently, it had been done in the same place where Oli and his brother were going to have one made.

And I thought? Why not?

Back in Bikaner I had drawn an Om sign that would end up being tattooed on my back left shoulder. The Om signs represents the omnipotent, omnipresent, and the source of all manifest existence. As a syllable, it includes the past, the present and the future, and all that exists beyond the three forms of time.

My trip in India represented exactly that. It was a point of inflection in my life, where the past had been drastically set aside and my future was depending on my present in India.

The tattooer was from Argentina which made it easier to explain him what I wanted. His wife was from Barcelona and he had a tattooing place in Ibiza. On this facts, I got a discount. Of course, the drawing wasn't exactly as I had drawn it, it had the tattooers ability in drawing and his personal touch, which I accepted for the moment.

And so, on the day to leave to Agonda, where we would get 5 buses, I had a tattoo in the form of an Om sign stuck in my body.

Arambol

I'm not going to talk much about this chilling out place, as nothing much really happened. Full of restaurants and guest houses, nothing much went on during my stay. Somehow, trance had still a strong presence, but you could hear other music as well, maybe because everyone was still with the New Years hangover.

I must admit, and I'm not ashamed of it, I felt relief when listening to Britney Spear's "Baby one more time" on my first day. I don't like her or her music, but, God, it was something else.

At night, fires were lit along the beach glowing to the sound of drums and to the movement of poi dancers. Mornings went directly to evenings and life just passed by as the world struggled to survive.

Conversations with Alex and Matt really amused me and we all had the same sensations when talking about the young Australian girls Dean hanged around with. Though stunningly hot, nothing interesting seemed to come out from their mouths.

An interesting game of chess took place between Matt and me, when I proved to be not as bad as I thought if I paid attention. However, I lost the moment I did not sacrifice my queen as I thought I would need it later on. Though I would have lost my queen, I would have taken me his queen and a rook, which would have balanced the game again, but I opted to go for another attack that did not exist. However, I gained Matt's appreciation as he didn't think I knew how to play chess at all, were his exact words. An honest man.

Despite all the apparent inactivity, Arambol sucked you and did not let you go. My following destination was Agonda and I was ready to leave, but as always happens in India, something changed. I stayed for two more days. Claire appeared.

Personal thoughts IV

By this time, I had spent some time with Matt, Gill and Eddie. But you can't expect things to be the same. Another atmosphere, another people surrounded us and I had to make an effort to fit in as nothing of what was going on had anything to do with me.

I think I failed to fit in, but I don't take it as a personal failure nor are my friends to be blamed, it just wasn't my place to be at. For more I wanted to see them again, I had made a mistake that would persecute me later on. I did not follow my own flow, I did not stick to my own rule. And so when I got to Arambol I did regain some kind of balance. Though I was there to see Matt and Dean, overall, I felt too uncomfortable in Chapora to stay any longer.

As a human being, a specimen specialized in falling into the same mistakes once and again, I did it again for the same reason. Friendship can be a powerful weapon that turns upon yourself.

Hello's again

After a quick stop in Moondance to say goodbye to whoever was awake, eg Spider and Carro, went on the mission to get a cheap rickshaw or taxi out to Arambol. I was too tired to venture myself on the complexity of Goa's public transport. It took me half an hour walking from Chapora to Vagator with my rucksack to get a taxi for 300 Rs., as everyone was asking from 400 to 600.

Once in Arambol, I had to look for a cheap place to stay, which also turned into a mission. I think it was all about carrying my heavy bag from one place to another that made so complicated and so big.

Finally settled up in a place, I went for a walk along the beach, not as much for walking, but for meeting up with either Dean or Matt. And I did with both at the same time. Piece of cake. On that reunion I also met Alex, a German guy with a lot of sarcasm. It was nice having people with whom to talk with something that wasn't drugs. I felt part of something again. In Chapora I was totally misplaced.

New Years Eve

What was supposed to be an amazing party night and day, turned out to be one of the most uninteresting event in my life, actually, not worth writing about it. However, some moments of the night must be revealed.

I had casually bumped into Jeff the day before and he would be part of the "partying" comittee, together with Gill, Matt, Maria, Carro and Spider. Eddie would join in later in the day. The plan was to go to party at the beach in Anjuna at a place called Shiva Valley. The music and the vibe there sucked. It was full of rude Mumbai tourists that would follow and harrase all foreign girls. So time passed by sitting at the beach until the fireworks would go on.

Midnight. 2008 had arrived and I didn't have the feeling of New Years at all. Despite everything, it was nice having good friends to hug.

A couple of hours had gone away unnoticeably filling our spirits with mere boredom. The group had divided. I had lost Jeff ages ago, and Spider was on his own dancing somewhere. Gill had decided to stay, too on drugs to go to sleep, and so Carro, Maria, Matt and a server went to bed. We thought on getting some sleep before the big Hill Top party which would be the "thing" to see. The "place" to be. It would be "The Party". A party that had been going on since the 31st and that should last until 10 pm of the 1st. But fate decided we would not get there until 1 pm.

Hill Top is an opened space with a big dancing area, with sweaty bodies moving to the rhythm of techno, trance, or whatever the hell was that. There were mats placed strategically for chilling out, resting and recovering strength to go back to the party and keep on dancing and moving eccentrically to beat. You could get food and drinks, from chai to spirits. The vibe however, didn't seem to change much from that in Chapora.

I bumped into Dean on the way in, he was leaving. Later on I bumped into Pedro. Jamie was also there and the reencounter is the only real thing worth mentioning. Like old friends that had been separated for ages, not more than two months, we embraced in an emotive hug. Worth mentioning as well he was high, on drugs, and I was slow, on joints. I had to try to activate myself, and he did the same the other way round. We catch up with our experiences in India, though it was a bit difficult to follow all what he was saying. He told me that Hugh had changed, becoming a very still and peaceful person. That I had to see.

At the end, Hill Top ended at 3pm officially and I left the place at about 5pm when I would go to meet with the rest of the group at Moondance, as they had left when the music finished at 3.

My kind of party would have been managed differently. I would have gone for partying during all night and going to Hill Top earlier. I reckon that would've been better, but chances are you don't get everything as you like, specially when hanging with a group of people with different intentions.

Finally, I ended the day too tired and too stoned to call home and the only thing I knew for sure was that I needed rest to get out of that vibe the next day. I was to move to Arambol.

Russian Mafia

After a very European night market in Anjuna, with all kind of shops, were no bargaining was allowed as prices were fixed and things were sold by so called westerners, and places to eat and drink at expensive rates, I went with Oli to a Russian bar.

As Israelis Russians tend to hang out together and pack. Obviously, language barrier is also a problem, though those I talked to had a very good English. Oli had met the owner of the bar, a guy called Dimitri. Out of all the Russians in Chapora and Vagator, and there are many, Dimitri gave the looks of an authentic Russian Capo.

The day I first went with Oli, it was Dimitri's birthday and we were invited to join the table, where we would have free food and drinks. The fish was extremely delicious by the way, and the Vodka, though I'm no expert, was exquisite. Being seated there, surrounded by Russians talking in their mother language and Dimitri organizing there and that felt like being in the middle of the Russian mafia.

They weren't opened people, only a couple talked with us, but they weren't rude either. It was a pleasant strange experience, pleasant thanks to Oli's company and strange due the situation.

Chapora's vibe

Met Oli thanks to Gill. We connected pretty quickly, though at the beginning I just thought he talked too much and he thought I was too quiet. Our conversation always ended up on girls and sex, as none of us were having much of that.

He hang around Chapora more than I did, enabling him to meet curious individuals. Our nights in Chapora consisted on drinking beer and rum, as there wasn't much to do there. During the day you could just hang around the Tree smoking joints or at the fruit bar next to it having lassis and smoking joints.

The atmosphere around was kind of aggressive for my taste. This was the place to be damed cool, defining cool as what said in the previous post. Chapora was also full with old hippies that claimed discovering Goa and moaned of how spoiled it was. Should've thought of that in the first place, before going and spreading the news all over the world. Anything that appears in Mr. Lonely, is subject to be ruined.

Diu resist!

Techno, drugs and beaches

Goa's vibe is variable depending on where you stay at. But basically, it's all about drugs. Generally, people are more interested in drugs than in sex.

At the rhythm of house and techno music people dance with extravagant crazy moves while getting themselves full on acid, coke, spit, MDA, LSD or any other psychedelic drugs available. Hash is used to chill out during the day or for quiet nights. During the day, it'll just inhibit you to think or do anything useful.

Hot chicks and tough boys flood the place. It's about being the coolest. Relationships evolve on this basic standard. There are some basic rules to be hot tough guy in Goa. Sunglasses are essential, and so it's having a bike. The higher the cylinder the better. A hot body is obviously a plus, and in that case a bare chest is a must. But overall, you gotta be on fancy high-tech drugs. And of course, you must know about them. Otherwise, you're out of the conversation.

Goodbye's and Hello's

A Goodbye to the gang of Diu meant a Hello to some of those I had met in Rishikesh and Mc Leod Ganj, and of course, to new people. A sad goodbye to Xavi, who was sick, Bill, Lien, Patrick, Ovi and Helena, and the Australian chicks, Brie and Emily. I would say by to Hamish and Jim after my 30 hour train trip to the Panjim station.

On the train I met Louise, an Australian girl with an open plan. Her ticket didn't go as far as Goa, but she stayed in the train around Jim and me. When time came, she decided to stop in Goa as well. She was starting to become a bit annoying already but in her favor I must say she managed for us single rooms for 300 Rs. Not the cheapest, but not the most expensive either.

I finally stayed in Chapora, small place 20 minute walk from Moondance in Vagator, where I would say hello to Gil and Eddie and many new people. Out of all these, worth mentioning Carro and Maria, Swedish girls that hanged out with Gil and Matt most of the time, though in general, I would say, everyone did its way. Apparently, I had briefly met Maria in Rishikesh on my first stay before the trek. I would also meet Wesley, or Spider, as everyone called him, can't recall now why. He shared a room with Matt, with whom I would not meet until my second day.

Secret Santa

A nice group of people had formed in Diu. I wasn't leaving anymore and Hamish had decided to stay. So we all agreed on a Secret Santa for X-Mas day. A limit of 50 to 100 Rs was imposed. This made it harder to think on a gift. However, Diu was full of surprises.

Excitement was among all of us and we expressed it openly. On my case, and those who know me are aware of my apathy towards X-Mas celebrations, I must say it's been the best Christmas in years.

I had to get something for Hamish. I hardly new him, and only knew he was interested in tourism though he had quit from studying that. His clothes were very normal and he seemed suited enough for traveling. Finally, after a lot of thinking, I decided myself for a personalized bike plate which would say: Diu - 2007. In the middle, an Om sign would decorate it in reminder of India and the movie we had seen.

Everyone tried their best and the experience was very fulfilling for all I would say. I got a notebook that would act as a calendar with really nice pics attached to it. Ovi had done it. It was quite obvious it was his, as it was written in Spanish and I had already seen some of the pictures from his camera. He was indeed my Secret Santa, and it wasn't hard at all to discover that.

We had decided we would try to guess who was whose Secret Santa. We opened our gifts one by one, guessing at each turn, though the answer could not be given until the end. The Apana restaurant served as the meeting point were we would have a X-Mas dinner and where, afterwards, Jim, disguised as Santa, with a Santa Claus shinning hat and a coconut beard, would give us our presents.

A good day that started with a X-Mas swim and ended up at a boring Israeli techno party. However, the ending would not mess up the rest of the day, it had been a great one!

Disco

I decided not to accept the invitation of going to an Indian disco back in Udaipur, but I had no reason no to go to the one in Diu. Back in Udaipur I was alone, and the possibility of having to go back to the guest house at late hours in the night by myself, when the disco was 2 kilometers away wasn't really appealing.

Xavi, Bill and I went for an hour of entertainment. Just a couple of Indian women to be seen, and none of them danced. Men danced crazily, as they always do, and they even ventured with some breakdancing moves. At some point Israelis came and the girls felt free to dance as much as they wanted. No one bothered them at all.

As I have said before, gay people are seen in bunches in Diu. And so, the disco was mainly gay. I was insistently offered to go to the dance floor. Offer I kindly refused. No point in being rude about it either.

To be honest, the disco had nothing to do with a big disco. It's closing time was 11 pm. Everyone behaved properly as lights went on and the music stopped. I have never seen something similar in Europe. Everyone always wants more. Must be the capitalist behavior, more, more and more. I bet European discos would like costumers like here, not only they behave, but they consume quite a lot.

Barca - Madrid

Once I had decided to stay for the match, Xavi and I spent most of our time in the room checking out the sport channels in India. I even got to know the number of all of them. This is important due to the enormous quantity of channels available. However, luck seemed against us.

No notice of the match either on TV nor the Internet. We had been talking about it all the week and even the manager of the hotel knew about our stress, offering us the newspaper everyday. No news about it there either.

It wasn't until the same Sunday we knew we would be able to see it. Had left Bill and Lien heading to a restaurant while we were going to our room and check the Internet. YES! was our cry when we saw we could actually see the match at Ten Sports channel at 23 hours. Everyone in the Internet place turned around to look at us. It didn't matter at all, we were extremely happy. Got to the pizzeria where Bill and Lien were waiting for us with a big smile on our faces. We gave them the great news. They didn't really care.

We ordered 10 beers for Ovi, Helena, Xavi and me. But the game turned out to be really bad. Barcelona played awfully and all our illusions on seeing a great match vanished as time passed by. And things got even worst when Madrid scored the only goal of the 90 minute game and an annoying Australian Daniel pushed his luck saying "I'm not going to say anything, I'm not going to say anything". So, so much for our need of a lot of beer. We returned 3.

The following day was all questions about the match, which would receive the same answer: "I don't want to talk about it." Everyone knew about the match. Pathetic.

Should my friends never again say I'm not for the team.

Om, Shanti, Om

Among our activities, which were going to the beach, barbeque's, doing a Spanish omelet or just doing nothing while drinking beer, we also went to the movies. The film of the moment was Om, Shanti, Om. A 3 hour duration movie with a 5 minute intermediate.

The plot was about a second class actor falling in love with a hot famous Bollywood actress. But the story is not that easy. It gets a bit more complicated, and though you can't understand what they're saying, you can follow all what's going on. So you end up not knowing why has happened what has happened but having a great time.

Being a Bollywood movie, and Bollywood being the biggest film maker in the world, I thought quality would be that compared to Hollywood. However, although this movie is a high budget one and you can see quality scenes, it is obvious the budget is not enough. Some things have to be done with a poor budget. I observed that these poor budget scenes were those with no music on. When music was playing, and actors singing, the quality was of the best, like a good video clip. It is obvious that the importance of Bollywood movies is not the plot, but the music and the dancing, but of course we all knew that. Just a matter of confirming it.

Not only the quality of scenes confirm this fact, but the lack of credibility of the actors may also apply. Actors are not actors because of their good performance, but because they are hot, know how to dance, and know how to sing.

Nevertheless, I'm talking about a top film were it's music is heard all over India. So far, I haven't heard of a foreigner who hasn't liked the film, enjoying it as I did. However, not all the merit must be given to the movie. Watching a movie in India is a whole experience. Unlike Europe or other westernized countries, the audience shouts, whistles, claps, laugh and cries. They live every moment as if they were part of the movie, and so, you join to the festival. Only the Sitges Festival in Barcelona has a similar feeling. Maybe some other festival, but never a movie theater.