India, days 15 & 16: Goa.... where Vicki learns that people make life worthwhile
I'm greeted like royalty at Alila Diwa Majorda and given a cool face towel and ginger-lemongrass tea to refresh me. I wish I'd shaved my legs, but am thankful I'm at least wearing a dress.
A bathtub! Hot water!
My room is stunning, with a massive bed, a patio surrounded by coconut palms, and a bathtub. A bathtub! Up until now I've been thrilled if I could get a reliable stream of hot water in the shower. Yesterday I was ecstatic when the hotel had hair conditioner, the first I've seen since arriving in India.
I wander through the surrounding village and down to Majorda beach. A taxi driver lazily offers me his services, and a couple of mopeds whiz by, but I see few other people. I pop into a jewelry store and find the merchant asleep on the floor behind the counter.
The beach is quiet and beautiful. I see a few people on deck chairs, but no one approaches me; no one asks me to buy anything. It's a refreshing change after Baga beach in North Goa.
I take off my sandals and meander along the beach, doing what I was raised to do: walk with my eyes down to find treasure. The sand is soft and clean, almost devoid of shells but littered with starfish. They wriggle across the sand, leaving trails in their wake that make them look like shooting stars.
“Shall I repeat your drink ma'am?”
I return to the resort and don't leave for 18 hours. This is my idea of paradise: palm trees and tropical flowers, an infinity pool that gives way to an endless view of green, nothing to do but read. Every time I return to my room I see that I've had a visitor: there's a new bowl of fruit, or a lit candle and bath salts.Many westerners seem to think that India is exclusively poor, dirty and undeveloped (“why would you want to go there?” I’ve been asked). What they don’t realize is how diverse this country is. I’ve witnessed opulence and poverty, visited traditional villages and modern cities, seen lush tropics and camel-filled desert landscapes, eaten spicy meat dishes and mild vegetarian thalis. There is no single India, and that’s part of what makes it so beguiling.
I laze by the pool and devour an entire book, served by a charming young man who asks “Shall I repeat your drink ma'am?” when my gin & tonic runs low. He asks about my tattoos and tells me about where he grew up in Kerala.
At dinner the waiter checks to make sure my food isn't too spicy (absolutely not!) and the chef comes out to make sure I've enjoyed the meal (absolutely yes!).
People make life worthwhile
I learned a lot during my first trip to India. Above all, I learned that people make life worthwhile. I think about Sameer and Sunny in Delhi, the pomegranate man in Karauli, the children who welcomed us with grins and waves, and all the people I took selfies with. Meeting people—Indians and fellow travelers—was undoubtedly the highlight of my visit.
"It's not very organized here"
Finally, reluctantly, it's time to fly home: GOI-BOM-YVR. The taxi to Goa airport is slowed by a cow that won't get off the road. I pass through five ID inspection points at the airport. Women hold up the security line because they refuse to part with their bags and cake boxes. The power goes out twice, and causes no alarm. The airport in Goa is shut down without explanation and all flights are delayed for several hours.
It's a final reminder of what makes India equally charming and frustrating; all you can do is smile and enjoy the ride. A man waiting for my flight says, “It's not very organized here.” We both laugh.
Until next time, alavida India. Please don't change too much.
Until next time, alavida India. Please don't change too much.
