stop and goa

[disclaimer: i realize this is a beach post and that it's winter and probably dreary on the east coast, i do. read on if you'd like, but you've been warned.]

well this was perhaps the most impromptu trip i've ever taken. but it's goa. i always just figured a trip to goa would sort of happen. indeed it did. my friend had invited my roommate and me to join her for her half-marathon/long weekend in goa. my roommate complied and, as soon as my plans freed up (friday, fewer than three hours before the bus was set to leave) i found myself booking a ticket. i had had a rough week, i justified to myself. i hurriedly threw a swimsuit, a few shirt and skirts into a bag and ran out to get the bus. so fast, in fact, that i walked right through a cowpie outside my apartment i had carefully avoided all day (yes, still wet). no matter! goa goa! onward.

well, come to find out, i needn't have hurried quite so much. i found myself waiting with a dozen or so other people on the curb next to a busy highway. buses sped by every few minutes and either zoomed by or slowed slightly to watch for potential passengers. i was starting to get nervous until i ran into my roommate, whose bus was supposed to have left an hour before mine. we called the bus conductor and realized my bus would be at least 30 minutes late (go figure). eventually it arrived, i took my pitiful (obviously last available) seat in the middle of the back row (yes, the 5 across row) and attempted to sleep despite being hurtled forward by the lurching bus every 5 minutes. one of the least pleasant nights i've spent anywhere (and, let's remember, i once spent a night in a bus station). my companions didn't fare much better - one slept next to the alternate driver's bed, the other next to a guy who puked all night. and all three of our buses got flat tires. but eventually we made it to goa, and that was all that mattered.

we spent a day in vasco, a nothing sort of a city that boasted little else besides the half marathon the following day. we took advantage of the proximity to go up to old goa and wander around the churches and museum (not a bad museum, i have to say. by indian standards anyhow.) the museums were interesting as i think they always are here, but i was surprised to see that they weren't decorated for christmas at all. after all, isn't christmas the time to go to goa?? although on the way home we did hear some particularly awful christmas music coming from a market, saw one church promenade lit up with lights and witnessed a skit performed under a banner that proclaimed 'mary's boy child.' oh my.

we took it easy, for rachel's sake, but also because we were all exhausted from our respective bus rides. that crazy girl woke up at some ungodly time that began with a 4 to go run 21 kilometers. kristen and i dragged ourselves out of bed around 8 but didn't manage to beat her to the finish line to watch. the race, cleverly, ended on the beach. so we took pictures of her with her medal and took a celebratory dip (wade) in the sea.

golden fried prawns, anyone?

and then, off to colva! the real beach. we arrived, we changed into bathing suits and practically ran to the water. we passed stands with sarongs, wine shops and cashews. but the three of us, all total beach bums, would not be deterred. we made our way through the so-called indian beach (what you probably would imagine - crowded. and full of people in full clothing (saw some belts. belts!) or underwear. (swimsuits, people!) and ended up on the more isolated, so-called russian beach (more on that later). we plopped ourselves down at the first restaurant/shack there, claimed some padded lounge chairs and made our way straight to the ocean.

doesn't get much better

dear. lord. that water was as warm as i have ever felt. like floating in a giant bathtub. we dove into waves, got sand in our ears, floated on our backs and soaked in the sun. in between splashing in the water we read, sat on the sand, and stuffed ourselves with fried seafood. your basic beach behavior. waiters came by at intervals to check on us or just to chat, with typical indian hospitality. around happy hour, whenever we decided that was, we got some cocktails. fresh mint mojitos? piña coladas? (did i mention goa has the cheapest alcohol in india and mumbai has the most expensive?) accompanied by a hookah at sunset. we watched the sun go down until they sky turned gray, the lights came on, and the locals started playing volleyball.

the following day was more or less a repeat of the first. with a few small additions/annoyances. goa isn't perfect, after all (though it is awfully close). the first came at breakfast the second morning. we arrived at 8.15, where we thought we would be one of the first to get our free nosh. well we hadn't counted on the russians. remember the russians i mentioned? well they're everywhere. signs all over are in cyrilic, just as in pushkar they were in hebrew. it seemed every guest at the hotel had descended on the breakfast at once, jostling each other for jam, pushing kristen out of the way when the much-awaited potatoes arrived. someone even stole my toast from the toaster! we tried to steer clear, but this was easier said than done. as a group they had rather boxy frames (and usually haircuts to match). the russians at our beach bar were little better. they communicated in russian, or grunts. the only english i heard was from one very surly russian who snarled, in a stereotypical boris badenov accent 'i will kill you' and went on to order the waiter to bring him his juice in two minutes. what a pain having juices prepared with such fresh fruit!

(i should add here that i have nothing against the russians, nor am i trying to generalize about them as a whole. i'm just trying to describe the general demeanor of the ones we happened to meet.)

but no matter, we had a beach to get to. of course this as well was fraught with some obstacles (albeit ones we generally could avoid). walking through any stretch of crowded beach usually resulted in some sort of surreptitious - or blatant - picture-taking. on rare occasions, people would ask if they could take our pictures. uh, no.

all in all, though, we really couldn't complain. except of course, when it came to leaving. our last half day was spent trying to soak up every last drop of beachy goodness we could. we laid in the sun until it hurt, got smacked around by waves and ordered as much seafood as we could stomach. all the while getting more and more upset at the prospect of having to leave. kristen and i had an out-and-out tantrum when the kind of fish we wanted wasn't available for lunch. (alright, we weren't quite that bad, but we definitely got a little whiny/obnoxious) grudgingly, we made our way off the beach and got the essentials on the way out of town - cashews, cheap wine, sleeping pills for the bus, and frozen yogurt to soften the blow. before we knew it, we were on a sleeper bus driving in the opposite direction from the beach. (why?)

perfect end to a perfect day

and now, here we are, back in bombay and resenting every minute of it. haha, i don't know what it was about goa that made us such piggy little beach bums. maybe it's the crowds and chaos we deal with day-to-day in mumbai. maybe it's that i haven't been in a real sea in so long. or maybe goa is just amazing.

yup, that must be it.
is it too soon to book tickets back?

dances and tigers and bananas, oh my!

from cochin i took a train to thrissur (also called trichur.. every city here has at least two names) to meet a friend of a friend i'd been talking to for months but never actually met. rekha turned out to be a fabulous host despite having to look after an ailing father. despite the odd situation (me feeling bad for being there at all, her feeling bad she couldn't show me more) we had a great time exchanging hindi and spanish lessons, playing with/breaking up fights between her nieces and nephews and discussing all the great places to go in bombay. her family filled me to the brim with keralan food, naturally - piles of rice, heaping spoonfuls of sambar, lots of fluffy idli and of course more bananas (boiled, fried, chips) than i've ever had in my life.

pookkalam for onam

in between all this eating and playing i managed to see a bit of thrissur and some of the festivities of onam as well. thrissur is, it's said, the cultural capital of kerala, after all. the first day we walked around the neighborhood, noting the pookkalam (designs of flower petals) and thrikakarappan gracing thresholds to welcome lord mahabali. we then discovered (from the milkman) that there was a boat race one day so it was decided i should go. the boat race itself, of which there are many throughout the state in the month leading up to onam, i discovered, consists principally of waiting rather than watching. in the hours preceding the event i watched as foreigners were moved up to the front 'vvip' section while others jostled for plastic chairs. i hung back but did crawl up to the front to kneel down and take some pictures of the passing procession of boats. they weren't terrible big (most of them) or decorated but the rowing itself was fun to watch. after growing weary of squatting in front of the wooden biers, i got out of the shaded pavilion and walked through the crowds of umbrellas onto the bridge. while policemen where there shooing people to one side or the other, i managed to cross back and forth enough times to see the boats going by down below. it was a unique vantage point and made the race slightly more memorable.

ona sadhya, banana leaf and all

the following day i was taken to the community celebration of a small area called 'manipuri', which rekha assured me i was the first foreigner ever to grace. by now i've grown used to the constant staring and general fuss made over white people so i was ready for it. upon arriving at the school i was ushered to one of the front chairs (but at this point i've stopped fighting it) where i sat through, once again, speech after speech from politicians in what to me is incomprehensible malayalam. after several hours of this we were ushered over to another room where long tables had been set out in preparation for the onam sadhya, the traditional feast (often over 15 dishes) eaten on a banana leaf (easy cleanup!). delicious! after our lunch break it was back to the hall for dances. two girls performed alone, what looked to me like bharatnayam - their expressions were excellent and i was able to follow the basic stories. then another version of thiruvathirakali, the traditional onam dance performed in a circle around the lit diya. (a few times the girls' colorful silks got too close to the flames which elicited urgent 'shhh shhhs' from the onlooking mothers).

silks spinning around the lit diya

then finally, pulikali - the tiger dance (that's men painted as tigers, not live ones), and the closing of onam festivities. this event, as far as i know, only happens in thrissur and it is massive. roads are shut down hours in advance so i was dropped off in the main circle with hours to kill. having felt rather queasy all day, i passed most of the hours lying down under the shade of a large tree and attracting plenty of attention from passing park-goers. eventually i got up the strength to wander around and see where all the dances would happen. gradually i understood that the procession would be on the street itself and not inside the circle. as i sat waiting for the madness to begin i must have passed hundreds of people, mostly families entertaining kids with snacks of popcorn and popsicles and rides on the playground. i looked on as families claimed their spots along the cement wall, fathers holding up children for hours and mothers talking over a constant chorus of horns, slide whistles and squeaky toys.

finally the procession itself began - it seemed to be essentially a parade. through the designs in the cement wall i could see odd floats - with bricks, trees, and a giant octopus peppered with deities and a few men painted as tigers.
and then.. nothing.
for 20 or 30 minutes nothing at all happened, other than the crowds began to disperse into the road and people began to search for more snacks and diversions. i assumed the event was wrapping up and began to head to the street, disappointed and rather exhausted.

tiger-men shaking their big rice bellies

i asked a policeman to be sure the event had ended but he explained that, 'no, it's coming'. so i perched myself on a nearby curb and continued waiting. it's a good thing i did wait because if not i would have missed the absolute madness that ensued. by the time the procession of tigers had arrived it was nightfall but we could see the lights of the float approaching in the distance and hear the beating of the drums. the men carrying the rope (which pushed the crowds back and demarcated the tigers' territory, as it were) arrived first, sweating and grunting as they heaved the procession forward. and then.. the tigers. the men were clearly excited, having long prepared for the event. they were painted all over, save for a shiny orange loincloth - their arms, legs and chests all covered with orange and black paint. their protruding rice bellies were made to look like snouts, with ferocious looking fangs and bright red tongues. this coupled with their raucous (one might say savage) enthusiasm made it actually a rather terrifying sight. they chanted and shook their bellies to the constant rhythmic beat of the drums behind them, drawing further energy from the cheering crowds, of which i seemed to be the only female. the police and fellow men on crowd control saw this, and plucked me quickly out of the massive crowds and into the front of the procession. which not only managed to keep me safe from grabby hands but also afforded me great pictures! i'm not sure they quite capture the absolute madness, but i hope they give some impression of the general chaos.

i couldn't even say how long the event went on - after about a half hour of chanting, cheering and jiggling bellies, i headed back towards rekha's house, which i reached only after a long search for a rickshaw and an even longer ride home. my arrival, just after 9pm, was greeted with many questions. why was i so late? what took me so long? wasn't i afraid of anything traveling alone like that? i just answered with a shrug of the shoulders and big smiles.

just another of the joys of being a woman in india.

ganpati (part 3: taking it to the streets)

piles and piles of tasty modak

alright, so we've seen the earliest parts of ganpati celebrations.. home pujas, public shrines.. darshan, veneration, prasad. now comes the crazy part.

processing through the house
(gym shorts and muscle shirts optional)

i showed up at another friend of a friend's house, my box of sweets (modak, at left) in tow. after traffic and slight misdirection, i arrived towards the end of the puja. in time for a little clapping and the requisite 'ganpati bappa morya' - this refrain goes on pretty much all night. the final offerings were made, the holy fire was offered to all, and prasad was had by all. then it was time to take the murti out of its pandal (in this case a really interesting woven basket) and into the streets. candles were lit along the floor and the deity was made to stop briefly over each of the flames on on its way out.

we made it down the stairs only to realize that it had begun to pour, putting a bit of a damper on the proposed 30-minute walk to the beach. no matter! ganpati, and everyone else, was strapped into various cars and the procession continued by caravan. it seems we weren't the only one with this idea, as the roads were pretty congested (but then in mumbai i guess it's hard to tell what the cause of traffic is since it's basically a fixture).

balloons and lights add to the festivity

the processions weren't limited to cars, though. driving by, we witnessed all methods of transport - ganeshes on carts lined with palm leaves, families hovered around the deity in the backs of trucks, balloons festooning canopies, groups marching to the beat of the dhol (or even drumsets), and - my personal favorite - a mobile dance party, complete with blaring speakers and flashing strobe light. the pouring rain had clearly put no damper on these celebrations.

 a passing bus joins in the strobe light dance party

when we finally made it to the beach kristen and i were stunned at the vast expanse of shoreline that now lay before us. high tide and low tide are two very different entities here, it seems. along the darkened shorelines, we could see families gathered around faraway fires and hear the distant intermittent chants. the deity can be immersed after one and a half, three, five, seven or ten days (the tenth being the biggest) so this was just the first of many such events. the beach was littered with deities washed ashore, as well as flower malas, plastic bags, and ash. we all gathered around the deity for a final lighting of the fire and reciting of sacred verses before the deity was ceremoniously immersed into the water. this task was left to three or four of the men, while we waited near shore and tried not to think about what was in the water that was creeping up our shins.

we bid the deity farewell and that was that. it's a bit sad to think i won't be able to see the madness that will ensue in the coming days, but i'm glad to at least have gotten a glimpse into the craziness that is ganpati in mumbai.

ganpati (part 2: the deities)

while the first day was busy with the bustle of the home puja, the next few days out and about were full of their own kind of craziness (and this is most decidedly not the craziest part of this festival, mind you).

i was eager to get out and see these ganpatis that were supposed to be lining the streets. i joined a friend and we wandered through the streets, annoyed by the vague advice we were given, when asked where to look: 'they're everywhere'. well it turns out this advice was spot on. they are indeed everywhere. we didn't get more than 50 meters past the train station (ville parle, in case you're keeping track) when we approached our first ganpati, housed in a tent of tarps, as they usually seem to be. we approached each one, removed our shoes, folded our hands respectfully, gave some coins as offerings, (my friend paused as i took the requisite picture(s), and we received prasad on our way out - usually nuts and little sugared balls, although the fancier places gave out modak. within the first half hour we must have seen at least half a dozen ganpatis, which is pretty good since my friend was told one should aim to see about seven (though i later heard nine as well). we must have at least doubled that by the end of our two-hour excursion.

the next day i had a similar encounter in a different part of town (farther south, near grant road) with a different friend. she must have gotten the inside scoop, because we saw some fantastic specimens - and some of the bigger ones i've seen, or even heard about.

the murti themselves are so varied i'm sure i won't be able to do them justice, so i'll let these pictures do the talking for me..

one of the first we saw.. i was interested in the environment they had created (and the changing lights were a nice touch as well.)

while most have that typically white/shiny appearance (which incidentally is generally plaster of paris) there was some nice variety. i appreciated the differences in color and shape this one used.

why is this ganesh so shiny? it's covered in buttons! over 80,000 of them. in past years the same idol has been made using chocolate, garam masala (spices), dried fruit, and stationery. resourceful indeed!

note the smaller deity image, which typically is placed before the main image. this is so that devotees can come up to take darshan and give offerings. also of interest - while most of the ganpatis we saw were in tents, some (like the ones in this village we wandered into) are simply placed in alleyways.

..and then others are housed in incredibly elaborate pandals like this one. we spent quite a while marveling and taking pictures of this fantastic setting. it's so nice that taking pictures is allowed (and that people do it so widely.. making me feel slightly less awkward about the process) though at this particular one the pandit was getting a little annoyed - too much clicking not enough darshan.

  

i thought this one deserved another shot, magnificent as it was. you don't quite get a sense of the size here, but it's about 14 feet tall. it's one of the 'big 5' ganpatis in mumbai. the biggest of these can draw lines that take hours, literally, (the average wait is about five) to reach the deity. if this sounds crazy, now imagine these same 10-20 foot deities being carried on canopies and paraded through streets teeming with masses of people. that's what's going to happen on the 10th day.

these few shots just scratch the surface - i must have seen over 25 ganpatis (well over the quota, whew) and that was only covering two very small areas. just thinking about the number there must be in this city is mind-boggling.

jackpot

a team of govindas greet their fans

so, as i mentioned, yesterday was krishna's birthday, a holiday known as janmashtani or locally as dahi handi. basically the story goes that as a boy krishna was very mischievous and was well-known for stealing butter. but since the pots were up on high shelves, he needed his friends' help to reach the delicious buttery goodness. so in his honor, teams of kids (boys and girls, respectively - called govindas) get together and make human pyramids to try to reach the clay pots strung up high (which now also come with a healthy monetary sum). so i guess the idea is to encourage friendship and teamwork (with the ultimate goal of doing something you're not supposed to do..)

the teammates themselves are known as 'govindas' and they seem to cruise around the city all day in their trucks and matching shirts, waving and gesticulating to any and all onlookers. these clay pots are strung up all over the city and it's not clear to me whether teams travel around to attempt more than one pot-break or if it's more of a one-and-done type of situation.

scrambling up the pyramid

in any case, the spectacle that we witnessed on our street all happened quite quickly. which perhaps was why people started gathering so early to grab a good spot. i mean, you wouldn't want to miss the action. the team assembles and before you even realize they've started, the boys (or girls) have already formed the base and are well on their way to the second tier. we watched them form a pyramid, determine it wasn't tall enough, and sort of collapse in on themselves. luckily, no injuries. though - side note - the smallest one does wear a helmet. though it looks like it's probably made of foam.

by the time they started their second attempt i was able to grab my video recorder, which (unfortunately) does a better job of explaining this than i do. i'm not sure whether they reconfigured or just grabbed another kid in a yellow shirt, but whatever they did, it must have worked. the pyramid rose up high enough, and as the smallest boy was lifted up on to his friend's shoulders the crowd started to cheer. this all reached its climax when the helmeted boy reached up to the clay pot and broke it (word to the wise: don't use your head, like john abraham, or you may injure your face. go figure), thus releasing some kind of muddy orangey liquid (not butter) which spilled down onto the group below.

said sea of yellow

this is followed by much jubilation as the team comes down, returns to the streets, and the cheering crowds part for the victors. they seem beside themselves. a sea of yellow drifts by, all smiles and waves to their adoring fans. i guess it's not often you have the undivided attention of your whole town at the age of 12.

i should add that i discovered that these events (or the cash prizes, anyway) are largely sponsored by political parties and/or celebrities. this would seems to tinge the event's otherwise innocent origins. what would krishna say..

home for the holidays

i've just returned from a wonderful 10 days back in the US. it was a blur of seeing friends, family and trying to eat everything remotely american i could get my hands on. it felt very comfortable being back but there were a few clear american/european disparities i couldn't help noticing. which i will now attempt to elucidate in my favorite form of communication, bullet points.

things i missed about france:

• velov'ing! i swear, it felt like i hardly moved. except, you know, in a car.
  
• generally beautiful surroundings. or, failing that, old.
• open container laws - what do you mean we can't have a bottle of wine in the street?
  
• speaking french (yes, it's true)
• smoke-free bars. let's get with the times, virginia
  

things i did not miss about france:

• our pitiful shower
• spending all my precious euros on groceries
• cold toilet seats and equally frigid water
  
• having to think all the time (about, you know, speaking)
• commonplace public urination
• the awful, awful music.. though much of that is contributed by america
  

american things i think the french would be mystified - or amused - by:

• driving over the speed limit. and just driving everywhere in general.
• not greeting everyone you see
• hugs
  
• cheese in a can
• football everywhere
• portion sizes. and the snacking.. all the snacking
  

i must admit it's a little strange to be back after a relatively short relapse into my american lifestyle. so for now i'm just trying to readjust and keep warm.

oh well.. only one month until the next vacation!