On Thanksgiving afternoon, after Greg and others finished their professional development half day, we, along with three friends - Rachel and Reid Wixson, and Wacuima, - jumped in some rickshaws and headed to the airport. Greg and I had a little side adventure with the rickshaw we chose. Half way to their airport, the rickshaw ran out of gas. The funny thing was earlier that day when I took a rickshaw to the school, a cool cab (A/C cab) was being pushed by several men down the road. Presumably it had run out of gas. My thought, "How often does that happen and are their gas gauges? I wonder when that will happen when I'm in one." The answer: 4 hours later. We hopped out and the first rickshaw wanted 100 rupees which was more than the full ride should cost, let alone half the trip. We shook our heads in disgust and waved another. He turned the meter on and off we went. When we arrived, he asked for 50 rupees. I pulled out my rickshaw price sheet, pointed at the meter, and then the sheet and told him "no, 34 rupees." He wagged his head and conceded. I've decided Greg must have some look about him that the Indians think, "sucker!" For as much as I ride rickshaws, I've had only 3-4 incidences. Greg has had many more issues and rarely takes rickshaws.
At the airport, along with half the staff at ASB, we boarded our JetLite plane for the one hour flight to Goa. In the 60s, Goa was hippie central and it's reputation for relaxation continues to this day. It's really one of the only places in all of India where I would wear my western two-piece swimsuit. Not entirely comfortable as all the hords of single Indian men traveling in packs just stare, but there's plenty of western tourists wearing the same thing. We went to Calangute, which is more of a touristy area, but we wanted to see some tourist sights. The further south you go, the less inhabited and more serene things become, so we are told. Calangute, surprisingly, attracts a high volume of Russian tourists and many signs and menus were translated into Russian.
We stayed at the Indian Kitchen guest house, a colorful, family run establishment that was very clean and welcoming. We were sad to hear that a family member had passed away and they did not have their dinning area open. The food was highly recommended in the Lonely Planet. After dropping our belongings off, we headed down the road, toward the beach, and had Thanksgiving dinner at Lazy Days restaurant. Upon looking around once we were seated, we noticed we were surrounded by retired European couples that were living it up. It was a funny sight. The food was excellent and my indulgence into the Goan fish curry began. Due to the seven mile dead zone around Mumbai and the tanker that spilled oil into the bay in August, I've pretty much decided I can't bring myself to eat seafood in Mumbai. (Having foreign fish again seems environmentally detrimental since we live next to an ocean. My exception has been a wonderful food stand in the market on Linking Road. So tasty, I try not to think about where the prawns are coming from). The two kinds of fish curry that we had we delicious! My mouth is watering just thinking about it.
Our first day, we hired a driver, Daya, to take us to Old Goa. The drive was a nice scenery of tropical farm areas, fields filled with some water buffalo and egrets, and in general still felt relaxing to me. The Portuguese colonized Goa in the early 1500s and I think finally gave it independence in 1961, so their presence is still felt. Old Goa was the first capital, until it had to be moved after the town was wiped out from the plague. What has been restored are all of these churches in the area. Huge churches. My favorite was the the ruins of St. Augustine. It has not been restored and was fun to wander around through the maze of what is left. In the Basilica de Bom Jesus, the remains of St. Xavier are kept and once a year, December 2nd, his remains are shown. Being there right before this occurred, we saw then huge tents set up to welcome all the visitors expected - thousands.
The second day we had Daya take us to the Tropical Spice Plantation. We had a great tour, our guide very knowledgeable about all the different spices they had growing. We saw pepper, cardamon, turmeric, cloves, vanilla, betel nut, tulsi, cinnamon, bay leaves, nutmeg, and ginger plants. At the end, one of the harvesters showed us how he climbed the betel nut tree and swung from one to the next to harvest the betel nut. Once he came down, Greg, Wacuima, and I tried it to climb a short way up a tree. There was a rope loop that fit around our feet and helped "cam" our feet around the tree. It was really quite secure. Just beefing up calluses on my feet where the rope was would be the training needed, as well was arm strength. At least I know of a job I could do if the counseling thing doesn't work out! After our "lesson" we were purified by water being poured down our backs and then invited to a wonderful lunch using fresh spices. Delicious!
The rest of our time was spent relaxing on the beach, playing in the water, reading, and eating. It was a marvelous break from Mumbai, aside from the hawkers, and my arm won't have to be twisted very hard to make it our Thanksgiving tradition while in India.
No comments:
Post a Comment