Wanderlust Heaven!

My reverie was interrupted this past week by a couple things. First, outside events. Stockmarkets around the world plunged on the back of some pretty crappy economic news and weakening confidence. To some it appeared to be the end of the world; to me it appeared to be the unwinding of yet another giddy 6-7 year period fueled by military spending, consumer debt, and dumb calls by institutions who should know better. See the 1980s/Reagan Presidency for a similar experience. That said, I don’t think it’s the end of the world…but it might be a bad 1-2 year stretch. Richard at Bean Me Up has been torturing me – inadvertently, I hope – during breakfast each day with a gleeful recounting of the previous day’s mayhem. He’s a bit of a doomsayer…and a bit of a know-it-all too. Not the healthiest combination. He is well-read and fairly savvy about what’s going on out there, but he also falls into the trap of feeling quite confident that he knows the way through the thickets.

In any event, it all feels very far away to me as I chill here in Goa. I’ve probably doubled my money in the past 4 years…and now that markets are down 15-20% or so, I would be an ingrate to complain (of course, I do complain a bit). And I have enough in cash to take care of my needs for a couple more years, so I don’t need to liquidate any holdings in the near-term. It all feels like funny money at this point…but I do realize that I need to keep an eye on things and will do so.

Other outside events: I had to take care of a few bookings related to my upcoming April trip to the States. I’ll be attending my 15th business school reunion in Virginia mid-month, and that of course entails event registration, flights, car rental, hotel and various other annoyances. Some can be handled on the Internet, others require phone calls. I’m actually on the Reunion Committee, despite my distance from the place. My role is entirely that of the funny man, drawing on my old role of Deviations (Humor) Editor at the Darden News. I was asked to take an existing reunion survey template and spice it up. I think I did a solid job of that. The existing survey had ridiculous questions about car ownership and other consumerist touchstones – I got rid of those and made the thing contemporary, with questions about the presidential race, global warming, international experience, and so forth. Let’s see how it goes.

I also will be spending a week and a half up in Boston, so made the usual appointments there – doctor, accountant, candlestick maker. While I like to moan about the hassles involved with setting these things up, it’s actually a snap. Years ago in Goa, you had to go to a Portuguese café and wait in life to use the area’s single IDD connection…now I just use my mobile and the cost isn’t too bad. Last night I called up my storage room facility near Boston and extended my rental for another year – the call cost was about a buck. Not bad, but I am looking forward to the day when all telcos are out of biz and calls are free. Let us pray…

My mail drop came in yesterday from Boston. Tons of magazines, lots of pre-approved credit card and magazine subscription offers, a few holiday cards, and a new credit card I had applied for from one of the airlines. They’ve been bugging me for years, and I finally gave in. It’s the usual deal – you spend, you get frequent flier miles. I applied for the personal card, but they contacted me and asked me if I instead wanted the small business card. I had indicated on the application that I am an independent contractor/small biz owner…more or less the truth. The small biz card has more features, and costs less, so I uh-huhed my way through the 4-5 basic questions they asked and now I’ve got the small biz card. I guess that the global credit crunch hasn’t stopped the credit card outfits from continuing to hunt for new game…but I imagine they’re being slightly more careful these days.

Second event of note this past week: the visit of Alan and Janine, the British couple I first met in Puerto Galera, RP last March. Eager readers will recall that our paths crossed again, entirely randomnly, in Coron, RP a few months later, and then we had a drunken rendezvous in Bangkok in October, before I flew to India. When we parted in Bangkok, after many Singha beers and a couple buckets of Sangsom whiskey, Al & Janine were still working out their subsequent destinations. They decided to spend a few months in India…not sure if my tales of the place influenced their decision. They got here about 6 weeks ago, and after seeing Delhi and the Taj, took a 2-3 day train ride down to Trivandrum in the south. They’ve spent time in a couple ashrams, and then worked their way up here to Goa, where they’re soon to spend 5 days in the Himalayan Iyengar Yoga program up in Arambol.

I can’t say I’ve met many ‘new people’ I’ve stayed in touch with since I started these travels – Al & Janine, Mark & Carolyn from Phonsavan in Laos, Bettina in Manila, and just a handful more. I do feel pretty full up with friends already, so my bar is set high; add that to my streak of misanthropy (you can call it an unwillingness to suffer fools glady, if you like) and that comprises my filter on personal relations. Al & Janine are much more friendly, and I think also more perceptive (or less jaded?). I recall reading some of their blog posts and learning a few things I should have known but didn’t – for instance, some Asian men let one of their fingernails grow long to show they don’t work in the fields. I’ve often seen the long fingernail, but never asked why. I think Al & Janine are curious and make an effort to figure things out.

Al & Janine are traveling as I am – pretty much making it up as they go along, staying for long stretches in places they enjoy, and letting experiences wash over them. They’ve also spent chunks of time doing volunteer work, something I occasionally express an interest in doing, but never get around to. We email quite often, at least once a week, and it was kind of funny doing that as they worked their way north from Trivandrum. Now they were in Varkala, after that in Periyar, then in Kochi, now in Mangalore, then in Gokarna. I got an ‘imminent arrival’ email from them when they reached Gokarna, and a couple days later they showed up at Bean Me Up. Excellent.

Within an hour of their arrival, we were drunk on cheap cashew feni. We sat down for dinner and the belly-dancing show on that night at BMU…and had a bottle of red wine. Then some Kingfisher beer. Then other stuff. Janine was not feeling well – a traveler’s bug, most likely, and she went off to bed. Wisely, Al and I hopped on my motorbike to go play pool. I overshot the road, and while U-turning a cop came out of the darkness and accosted us. I tried to get my paperwork out of the boot but nearly dumped the bike on my leg. The cop accused us of being drunk – Al and I fervently denied it. I eventually produced the papers and the cop waved us on. He had us dead to rights, but probably figured that we weren’t drunk and/or scared enough to cough up some rupees.

We met up with Lisa and a gang of other BMU-ers at the Primrose Bar. Got a working pool table and tried to play a game. Our aim was predictably off and we quit. Drove down to the freak ghetto of Chapora, where I’d last been with Curt in early January, and settled down to some more Kingfishers and other stuff. Chatted for a long while before the bar closed down, forcing us to retreat to BMU and it’s pleasant ‘chillout zone,’ where we spent another hour or so. I recall Al asking me about life plans and other hard questions – I believe my responses were of the ‘err…’ variety.

The next day was a complete write-off. I awoke feeling grim…then vomited and spent the rest of the day holding my head and moping around. I primarily blame the feni, but then again adding the wine might have done it. And Janine’s bug might have gotten in there too, not sure. Anyway, the three of us were a bit of a mess all day Monday, and it wasn’t till mid-week that we were in fighting form. Thinking back to our last meeting in Bangkok, with the Sangsom whiskey and a brutal day-after, this was eminently predictable. Three friends meet in a fresh destination, loaded up with months’ worth of travel stories and adventures, share them over drinks/etc., and the next thing we know we need our stomachs pumped. I wonder where the next spot will be?

On Tuesday we were finally ambulatory, so drove up to Arambol to help find Al & Janine some lodging for their upcoming yoga course there. Didn’t find anything, but had a pleasant day wandering around the headland, having a greasy lunch, and a cold beer on the beach. We then went to see Prem Joshua & Band play in Mandrem. The show was good – 90% the same as the Hilltop show, but entertaining nonetheless. Al & Janine had a good time, from all accounts. On Wednesday I took ‘em over to the Anjuna Market so they could experience the essence of Goa, or something like that. Al & Janine were good guests across the board – not demanding, full of stories and great humor, and easy-going. And not pregnant either…

Friend Umang joined us for dinner that night at the Bean. He was in good form…with plenty of his usual over-the-top slogans about yoga (“it’s the best gift you can give yourself” – of course, Umang doesn’t practice yoga) and other topics. After dosing ourselves a bit, I was in my usual impetuous/skeptical mode and proceeded to skewer Umang’s various positions, to the evident amusement of Al (and I think Janine as well), who has seen bursts of my inner cranky/misanthropic self and seems to find it amusing. To his credit, Umang takes my ribbing in stride and laughs along with the rest of us…my irritable outbursts seem ‘witty’ to him and every insult I hurl at him is ju-jitsued back to me with a compliment. Rather disarming, to be honest.

Al & Janine moved up on Arambol/Mandrem on Thursday, still without lodging but they’ll find something. We promised to stay in touch and perhaps meet up in Arambol after their yoga course. I’m sure our paths will cross again quite soon, and probably quite often given past experience…and I’m happy about that.

I got my mail package soon afterward and went to work plowing through it.

What else from this past week? I went to Nine Bar with Lisa one night…there was supposed to be a well-known DJ there, but that wasn’t the case. We stayed for a bit anyway, dancing around. I mostly watched others there…some dancing, some not. When there’s music around, even if it isn’t great, I always find myself moving…you might not call it dancing per se, but I do feel the music in me. And I’ve noticed that many (most?) other people do not, or at least handle it in a sedate fashion. Most people just sit or stand there motionless. I don’t want to say that I can’t understand that…we all have our own musical preferences and there are certainly some tunes that leave me cold. But I do prefer to be around people (women) who ‘get into the groove’ and like to move to the music. In other words, participants in a sense and not merely an audience. Does that make sense?

Later that night I got out my iPod, inspired by the music at Nine Bar I suppose, and put on Lyle Mays’s first, eponymous album. Mays is/was Pat Metheny’s keyboard player and this album is superb. I don’t have his later stuff but want to pick it up soon. I first saw Mays play at Tufts during Spring Fling, when my friend Jarv and I were absolutely flying. We sat down in the auditorium and saw the show…and it centered us immediately. Mays’s music is elegant and soaring, and to this day I remember that 3 minutes and 40 seconds (give or take a few) into the 7th track on his first album I once experienced an epiphany which I’m still trying to recreate.

Have started to think ahead to my travels after my April U.S. trip. Latest thinking: don’t head straight to Nepal, instead go from Hong Kong through Beijing up to Mongolia, spend some time there, then head to western China and Tibet. From there, go to the Central Asian Silk Route hotspots – Samarkhand, Bukhara, etc., and eventually get down to Kathmandu. That sounds like a solid plan to me, now I just have to make it happen. Any input is of course welcome…

Looked into setting up paid advertising on my blogsite, but the host company BootsnAll already has Google’s AdSense on it (naturally – that underpins their free hosting of my blog). So I’ll just have to rely on your kind donations, dear readers…

Took a late-night motorbike ride after dinner the other night. Passed a beautiful old Portuguese church…there was some sort of party going on next door, might have been related to the church or something entirely distinct. It was a Thursday night, not the usual night for a wedding. Anyway, there were people dancing and a loud track from Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ was cranking away. I thought it a bizarre scene – old church, Goan merrymakers, Pink Floyd. A little bit of everything all together in one place. Just as I like it. Over and out.

I’ve got about another month here in Goa, and with that in mind, I’m starting to make some resolutions. Note that these are not precisely new year-related; I’ve always thought that making a resolution that’s backward-looking in nature (i.e., focused on the magical yet ephemeral Jan. 1) and not really tethered to an upcoming red-letter date and associated need just won’t work, at least not for me. So my two resolutions are pretty well focused on the near future.

First res – I need to plow through a load of books here before I take off. Carting books around India would not be much fun. With that in mind, I’ve made a push lately, and just finished the wonderful and odd The Book of Dave by Will Self – yet another gem I’m fortunate to have read. The past 12 months has probably comprised the best stretch of reading in my life. Regular slog readers will recall the litany of great books I’ve been reading, but here’s a partial list in case you’re looking for something to read these days:

-The Japan Journals by Donald Richie
-The Bas-Lag Trilogy by China Mieville
-I Am Legend by Richard Mathiessen (now a movie)
-Cloud Atlast by David Mitchell
-Another Quiet American by Brett Dakin
-First They Killed My Father by Loung…
-The Gate by Francois Bizot
-The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov
-Midnight’s Children by Salman Rushdie
-America’s Boy by James Hamilton-Paterson
-A Fortune-Teller Told Me by Tiziano Terzani
-The Book of Dave by Will Self

There must have been more, but those spring to mind. I recommend any and all to you.

Second res – I need to get myself in better shape before hitting the road. I’ve shed a bit of weight over the past 2 or so months, but even eating vegetarian food most of the time at Bean Me Up hasn’t gotten me all the way there. Vegetarian food can make you fat – cheese, rice, bread, noodles, etc. are all potentially fattening and you need to watch these, particularly if you’re given to late-night food, as I am. And while India is home to 500 million vegetarians, lots of them (particularly in cities) aren’t in good shape. Indians put on weight just like Westerners do – in the gut. Indians don’t exercise much, and their food is actually quite bad for you. Breads are often made with ghee (clarified butter) and oil; vegetables are often presented in fried form (pakoras); the curries are full of butter and oil; I could go on and on. I’m staying away from these and will confine myself to the stricter side of BMU’s lengthy menu for the next month…and I’m also on a no-beer pledge. I’ve heard more and more over the past few years about how fattening beer is, and I’ve finally decided to see for myself what a week without beer can do. There are other adequate substitutes – mostly wine and gin & tonics – so I don’t need to become a Mormon just yet…

The other side of that equation is, of course, exercise. I’ve been reasonably regular about running at the gym, but I will ramp that up, no pun intended. As for yoga, well…I skipped every class this week and I might be fading there. I’ll try to get back on track next week.

So reading and exercise will be my lot over the next month. Let’s see how much willpower I really have. The betting table is now open, ladies & gentlemen…

Lisa told me about a tabla (Indian percussion) concert at the Kala Academy in Panjim last Friday night. The tabla player and his band were quite well-known, and I decided to go and see if I could find tix. The place was absolutely mobbed – I had to park a kilometer away. And there were no tix to be found…people whom I asked just laughed. I wasn’t that disappointed, though – while I do want to expand my musical horizons, I have a hard time getting excited about sitting in a chair for two hours. Or sitting through any sort of class or meeting, for that matter. And I think that’s why I’m sloughing off of yoga…I enjoy practicing yoga, I just don’t like going to class. Perhaps it’s an anti-authority reflex, perhaps I have the adult form of ADD (but I can sit or lie down and read for hours), I’m not sure what it is. It may be that I’m experiencing so much freedom in my life now that any imposition of timetable and organization scares me.

But even when you’re ‘free,’ you’re not. The concept of opportunity cost always looms its head. If I’m somewhere good…well, I could be somewhere else that’s better. And I’m careful about the books I read…I just won’t read any crap by Grisham or other formulaic writers, even if said book offers the chance to downshift my brain and cruise along. I used to like Stephen King, until he started cranking out 5 books per year. And I lapped up a couple of the Tom Clancy thrillers, but the same issue applies. I’d much rather devote my time to books that are cut from a different cloth…I don’t much care about the category – history, fiction, biography, etc. The book just has to have a compelling hook for me.

Anyway…back on the topic of freedom vs. constraints, when I learned that I wouldn’t be getting tix to the show, I was perfectly happy. That meant I could explore Panjim at night, something I’ve done little of in past visits. I found a little Portuguese-flavored pub called Lourenco’s near the Ourem Canal. Had a beer (this was before my no-beer kick) and a plate of spicy Goan sausages (no excuses offered). Noticed that Lourenco’s had a menu item called ‘sweat corn soup.’ Reminded me of ‘scram bled eggs’ that I’d once seen on a Bombay canteen’s menu.

Rode around Panjim on my motorbike, stopping at places that looked good. Panjim is pretty dull by night – the local bars are mostly little darkened rooms full of hard-core feni and whiskey drinkers. I did find a decent place called Ernesto’s, which is on the second floor of what’s known as Clube Vasco da Gama. I don’t know what that club is…but I do find it interesting that my trail keeps crossing old da Gama’s every few years. I saw his monument in the Cape of Good Hope…I visited a church in Cochin (Kochi) where he was buried for about 15 years, and his house in Cochin too…and now, here in the capital of formerly Portuguese Goa, I was in a club named after him. Had a couple fenis at Ernesto’s, then moved on. Eventually I drove back to Bean Me Up and hung out with Lisa for a bit.

The next day I read in the paper that a British woman tourist was raped near Panjim. She had attended the concert at Kala, then got on a stranger’s motorbike – apparently he promised her a ride home. He drove her to a secluded spot and attacked her. Hard stuff, indeed. It’s hard to truly draw any lessons from something like this – it’s easy to say that the woman shouldn’t have trusted a stranger, but should we go through our lives closed off to others who might be worth knowing? And it’s easy to say that sexual education and respect for both genders should be inculcated early in life, while in school…but how do you really operationalize this, particularly in a prudish/conservative country like India?

I went out and bought the International Herald Tribune that day…spent hours just sitting and reading the papers. Am I part of the last generation who loves to do this? I’m happy to get some news online, but picking out discrete stories/links here and there is not the same as sitting down and reading a paper cover to cover. I’ll be deeply saddened if the current trend of gutting news staffs and dumbing down papers/magazines continues.

Called Boston, as it was my father’s birthday. Talked for a while – at least 10 minutes, long by the standards of white males. Then called my sister and her family. Mostly talked with brother-in-law Dave – he and I can actually talk for a while, 20 minutes or more. We’re the same age and have a lot in common…and he seems interested in the exoticism of my travels, whereas I’m keen to know what’s really going on over there – with my family, with the country, etc. That makes for good chats.

Dave sent me a few texts next morning, updating me on the Patriots-Jaguars football game. As you may know, the Patriots went undefeated this regular season, only the 2nd time that’s happened in NFL history. And the Pats won this, their first playoff game, against the Jags, and seem poised to roll on towards the Super Bowl in early Feb. Where will I watch that game here in Goa? There must be a place that’ll have it…should start scouting that out soon.

Went to the Goa Marriott in Panjim for its deluxe brunch with Lisa and Richard. I owed them a good meal, as they’d treated me to a couple lately. The Marriott does a nice job – no sushi, but pretty much everything else. Had a good talk with L&R – they’re heavy into wedding planning, and have set the date for Feb. 7th, the Chinese New Year (Year of the Rat). I’m to be a witness, which is fine by me – I’ll get some strawberries and champagne in the deal. They’ll have a party at BMU afterward – Lisa mentioned that she expects plenty of ‘former friends’ to show up expecting freebies. When she started BMU, some of their old friends apparently got jealous that they were getting out of the freak lifestyle and becoming ‘respectable,’ making money and staying sober. And sometimes these people say shocking things to her – while still expecting free drinks at the party. Talk about schadenfreunde – it seems Goa is no different than anywhere else, it’s full of spoiled brats who wish their ‘friends’ ill while waiting for their relatives to die and trust funds to be released. Absolutely fucking depressing – hearing Lisa talk about this almost put me off my food, but not quite…

Here’s a shot of the 3 of us, post-gorge:

Slept much of that afternoon – when I got up, I went to Nine Bar to dance a bit and help the food get through my system. Danced with a couple Korean girls for a while, then gave them a ride to their hotel in Anjuna. They invited me in…I accepted. We polished off a bottle of shoju (Korean potato liquor) they had brought from Seoul. One girl disappeared for a while…the other one and I got friendly. She was not the more attractive of the two, but shoju is powerful stuff and I didn’t seem to care. Eventually her friend returned – not sure if there was any hidden hand in this scene or not. Made plans to see them again at Nine Bar later in the week. Random…

On Sunday I had errands in Candolim and Calangute, and while in the latter stopped in for lunch at Souza Lobo. This place has godlike tandoori kingfish, yet I’d only visited once this season. Polished off an entire kingfish myself – although the flies probably made off with a gram or two. Waddled out of there and motored back to the Bean.

One thing I love about India is the wildlife – cows wander freely, unafraid of being slaughtered (except in Muslim districts). Lots of dogs, cats, water buffalo, monkeys, snakes, and so on. In China and Vietnam, you only see beasts of burden, mostly water buffalos. Nearly everything else winds up in a pot. In those countries, you need to visit a national park to see any animals of note; here in India, they’re all around you. It makes it challenging to ride a motorbike at night when the moon is low…but it’s also heartening to see that we haven’t cleared out the entire planet of other species just yet.

One thing I dislike about India is the number of people – thankfully, not all 1.1 billion Indians are in Goa. The effects of having so many people are stark – the pollution is what gets to me. I’m convinced that climate change is a huge issue and is already effecting us…but pollution is right in front of us. India is a polluted land and I just don’t see how that’s going to change – it doesn’t seem to be a national priority here. Perhaps the solution is to keep on moving till I find a less populated land where there’s still some respect for the environment. Laos might be the place that best fits that bill thus far…

Went to see Umang’s band play at Mandrem. This was a random band, more a loose emsemble of musicians who came together for this gig…and admitted to only practicing together a couple times. It started off slow…the music sounded like muzak from a health spa. But it picked up – there was a brilliant belly-dancer on stage with them and she was captivating – prancing around with all manner of scarves and a peacock tailfeather. The music got more and more interesting, and some of the percussion instruments were weird and cool. After the show I walked back to the road and saw a girl in the shadows juggling large sticks. She didn’t seem to be performing for anymore…I stood there and watched her for a few minutes. What goes on in the shadows of our lives…

I finally gave in and joined Facebook. At least 5 friends have invited me, but I always held out…I didn’t want to join then get besieged with 100 emails a day with dumb ‘friend updates.’ Anyway, I joined just to see what it was all about…and within 24 hours I had 75 emails. That is slowly dying down, but I’m still on the fence about the concept. It has scared up a couple old friends from university, but aside from that it all seems to be an exercise in self-indulgence and escapism (from the real social world). If you read this, please don’t bother writing on my ‘wall’ in Facebook…it’s getting old already.

Went to see National Treasure: Book of Secrets at the INOX Cinema in Panjim. The first National Treasure was a good yarn, and I enjoyed this one too. It’s certainly not a great movie, but I like Nicholas Cage and I love history, and these movies are an entertaining mix of the two. The history, of course, is dumbed-down sufficiently for
Boobus Americanus, but there’s a sliver of good stuff here and there.

Last night a troupe of African acrobats performed at BMU. These guys could do just about anything with their bods…I couldn’t contort myself like that if I practiced yoga for a thousand years. While watching them I silently concluded that if I’m to make anything (more) of myself, it’ll have to be with my brain. That organ has its own issues, but given the state of my aging frame, the smart money is on my noggin. Which means I’d better get back to my books…and to Facebook. Over and out.

Apologies for last week’s rant…sort of. My friends’ visit wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be, but it could have been better – and when it comes time to write my weekly slog entry, I write what I feel in the moment, warts and all. Come to think of it, ‘warts and all’ would probably be the right name for this slog!

While my friends were safely ensconced for two days in the (presumably) zero-bacteria environment of the Taj Aguada Hotel, I took a deep breath and settled back into a semblance of normalcy. Went running for the first time in a week. Took Lisa and Richard out to dinner at the very chintzy Fiesta Restaurant in Calangute. This place makes for a nice night out – it’s stylish and tropical, with good (but not exceptional) food Lisa and Richard know the owners, a stunning former model and her husband (apparently named Manic – I love it). After the meal, I went in search of the bathroom, which was well-hidden…and while I was busy L & R took care of the hefty bill. I was fairly annoyed, as I had invited them out and they had also paid for our previous night out. Anyway, I’m around a while longer and will take them out for another splash sometime soon…

Kept up with the yoga. I’ve made some progress – I can do a headstand now, and my stomach is a bit stronger, allowing me to do the boat pose without screaming in bloody agony. We’ll see if I maintain my resolve over the next few weeks. I have a feeling I’m just a twice-per-week yogi…

On Saturday after yoga, in a state of near-starvation, I motored over to Lila Café, which is probably the best brunch spot in north Goa. Had a meat-laden feast – Hungarian goulash soup and a croissant with waterbuffalo ham. Better than it sounds, really. Then rode around looking for an outfit called Jungle Guitars, which sells instruments and also runs a class on how to make a guitar. That would be fun, methinks. I’ve been meaning to take up the guitar again – I played a bit when I lived in New York and had learned to read music, but that was so long ago. I think this initiative will remain on ice for the time being – to really get back into it would require a long-term stay somewhere with soundproof walls so that I could practice. And I seem busy enough these days with my other interests. So I wasn’t that unhappy when I couldn’t find the Jungle Guitars shop…

Curt and Marta came back to Bean Me Up on Saturday afternoon. I was off doing a few things so we met at Ozran Beach, where they were sitting in a little restaurant having lunch. It soon became apparent that they had benefitted from staying at a 5-star establishment for a couple days…it was probably the most peace and quiet they had had, and would be getting, for a long time. And it seemed to me that they had calmed down and were also less fixated on topics like baby-naming and in which city, London or Madrid, should they live. In turn, I relaxed and felt less like a minder and more of a friend.

Took ‘em to Ingo’s Saturday Night Bazaar that evening. They were flying back to Europe the next afternoon and I wanted them to have a final blowout Goan experience. Marta rode with me to the fair, and en route apologized for her and Curt’s behavior during the prior week. She indicated that they understood it was pretty annoying for me to serve as their babysitter, and that I might not be particularly engaged in lengthy discussions on baby-naming, etc. I was glad that I wasn’t alone in thinking that – and appreciated the apology. As I’ve said before, I should be more empathetic – learning you’re pregnant while in India must be a shocker. Still, displaying near-total self-absorption is pretty poor form and it looks like my friends recognized that reasonably quickly. When we got to the fairgrounds, Curt made some noises about us hanging out late-night after Marta had turned in. Perhaps my previous comment to them about Curt becoming overly serious had sunk in…

They bought a bunch of things at the fair for their relatives…we watched the Prem Joshua Band play a few songs in preparation for their big blow-out show the next night at Hilltop. A few of the BMU staff were sitting on the ground in front of the stage – it was a bit of a BMU reunion. The band played well and the crowd was into it – I imagine most of them showed up on Sunday night for the main event.

Marta was getting tired, so we rode back to BMU and she turned in. Curt and I rode down to the hippie enclave of Chapora for ‘a drink,’ which turned into a bit more. I think Curt had made an effort to take a step back over the past two days – he seemed more his old playful self and we talked for a few hours, in Chapora and at BMU, about old stories and ‘what’s next.’ I don’t think I’ve laughed so much and so hard in a while, and I’m 99% sure Curt hadn’t either…he later told me our talk helped ‘screw his head back on straight.’ We’ll see how long that lasts…

This whole experience did make me think hard about how we wall ourselves off and grow stern as we age. Where are our inner childlike selves, where do they go? I’m no better than anyone else in this regard…I’ve just got fewer constraints and less stress than most, so I can bring forth my playful nature more easily. But I often find myself racing around frantically taking care of errands, and I wonder how to chuck the dayplanner and just go with the flow, at least for a few days. I think what I need is a three-week trek in the Himalaya to clear out the cobwebs and refocus…just me, a couple guides/porters, a few friends, a camera and a notebook. Am putting this on the calendar (just kidding) for May…

Curt and Marta checked out midday Sunday. I was feeling better about their visit, now that I’d affirmed that Curt hadn’t lost his soul. But one final bit of torture remained. They were short on cash, and I told them to just settle the bill with a credit card. The first one (American Express, which isn’t widely accepted here) didn’t work…Curt got a bit anxious, then tried another card, which turned out to be a debit card, not a credit card. Between Curt and Marta, neither of them had a regular Visa or MasterCard. Astounding. They both travel widely, and this was still the case. Debit cards are popular in the UK, and in other parts of Europe, but when you come to India/Asia you’ve gotta prepare for the worst. I wound up quickly driving Curt to a money exchange shop, where he converted pounds and euros into rupees and had just enough to pay the bill and the subsequent taxi to the airport. As I said, one final bit of torture…it would have been nice to part ways on calmer terms, but anyway this is India and if you’re even the slightest bit unprepared, you’re cruising for a bruising. Bring lots of different credit cards, my friends…

Besides saying goodbye to my friends (who, if they actually read these entries, might be pissed off, but at least I’ve provided pseudonyms), the other theme this past week was music. The Prem Joshua Band played a 2-hour gig at the infamous Hilltop on Sunday night. Pretty good show – I went with Lisa, who got me in for free. Talk about knowing how to work the locals – she’s practically one of them, but with enough of a Western edge to scare them when necessary. Some new songs in the mix – the band is recording a live album which should be out this year. Some of the songs were more danceable than others…the final number was ‘Shiva Moon,’ the band’s signature song, which got the audience out of its seats and prancing around merrily. We didn’t stick around after the show, as the parking lot gets crazy.

The next morning, and for the next few mornings, the BMU restaurant staff whistled while they worked. Indian (or perhaps Nepali) songs and chants filled the air at breakfast. I usually just sit there and read or play with my smartphone, but hearing their singing inspired me. I am in India, dammit, and everything should be colorful and exotic here – the sights, the smells, and the sounds. Most of the staff is young and they should have fun at work…Lisa can be a real perfectionist and cracks the whip when she’s around, so breakfast (when she’s still in bed) is a good time for the lads to let loose.

That night Lisa was also in a musical mood, albeit a perverse one. For some reason she had Michael Jackson on the brain…maybe because the chef, Arjun, occasionally calls me ‘Michael Jackson,’ to which I take no offense because I strongly doubt whether Arjun knows what MJ really gets up to. I just tell him I’m not Michael Jackson, I’m Michael Bloomberg, mayor of New York City…he doesn’t quite know how to respond to that and the conversation ends. Anyway, Lisa was singing (softly) ‘Billie Jean’ and ‘The Girl is Mine,’ and I joined in for a few stanzas. Neither of us are into this sort of stuff, but it’s just so campy and 80s that it’s fun to relive the past and dredge this stuff up.

When things at BMU are running smoothly, the place is constant randomness and fun. And I like to think that I contribute my fair share. Lately Bini (headwaiter) and I have had a running gag in which I order things that aren’t on the menu – stuff you’d find in a greasy little dhaba (cafeteria/truck stop). Food like masala dosas (thin Indian crepes with spicy potatos inside), pao bhaji (bread with veg stew), samosas (known to all, I hope), etc. Now that Bini knows the gag, he recommends items to me – pomfret tandoori, chicken tikka, etc. It’s a bit odd, I admit, but we have fun with it. I’d expand the joke and get the other waiters in on it, but they are more serious than Bini and would probably go to the kitchen and actually try to get these things made for me!

Am trying to get through a few books so that when I leave Goa I won’t have to lug ‘em around. My India guidebook is hefty enough. I just finished ‘A Fortune-Teller Told Me,’ and gave it to Richard. I think he’d find it compelling, and perhaps even provoke him to jot down his memoirs. Richard traveled overland from France to India in 1978, and the guy has more stories than time…I feel childlike at his feet. There were others who showed similar spunk and spirit, and who undertook similar adventures, but I imagine most of them are either dead or incapacitated by now. I plan to keep tickling Richard to write up his memories.

Lisa gave me Jon Krakauer’s book ‘Under the Banner of Heaven,’ about the Mormon Church. This gift was unexpected and threatened to complicate my reading plans, so I devoted a couple days to cranking through it. Very good read – I now have a much better grasp of the Mormons and their idiosyncracies, and can sympathize with their tribulations as they were driven from New York all the way to Utah. Bloody history and colorful figures permeate the Mormon past – it’s helpful to have a grasp of the Mormon Church, given that it’s the #1 American-originated religion and there’s a Mormon candidate (Mitt Romney) in this year’s Pres. election.

Speaking of that, I’ve been following the Iowa and New Hampshire ballots with great interest. Obama looked set to take off, but got his wings clipped in NH. And McCain’s still in the race. Both parties are wide open and I think we won’t see any conclusions drawn until Super Tuesday (Feb. 5), and probably even that major date will only lead to some dropouts, but no knockout punches. I need to get on the ‘futures trading’ websites like NewsFutures and TradeSports and see how the public is prognosticating these races. As for me, I’m going for Obama. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m sick of the Clintons. And you already know how I feel about Republicans in general…

Had a jones for Chinese food, so rode the other night to Pagoda in Calangute. It’s a bit of a ride, but I had to satisfy my craving. The night air was quite cool as I rode… particularly at the lower elevations. Then, as I turned off the Anjuna road to head to Calangute, I hit a patch of perfect air. It reminded me of the nights I went running in Cairns…just magnificent. Oftentimes I think I’m quite comfortable, but this time I was certain. The stretch didn’t last that long, but I think I’ll go back for more soon. Oddly, this area is the same place where last year I was driving back to BMU late-night and saw a dog lying in the road, having an absolutely grand time rolling around and playing, full of joie de vivre. Must be something in the air…

Was playing around with my Treo smartphone, and looked at the call log feature for the first time in ages. Turns out that the phone keeps a record of a huge number of past calls…I’m not sure but it looks like every call I made or received is listed there for the past 3-4 years. Incredible. I can scarcely remember some of the people on the log…it’s actually a good record of past girlfriends (and clients) for me. Probably consumes a fair amount of memory, but I’ll keep it for now.

I’m starting to get itchy feet. I’ve been in Goa for a couple months, and was planning to stay until the end of February, but given the other spots in India I want to visit, I might head off a week or two early. Two months might be my ‘magic number’ for staying in one spot…but I’m still enjoying Goa so will push it another month or so. Might head up to Arambol, or down to the south, for a week or so, just to shake things up.

Yesterday was my nephew Jacob’s 4th birthday. Hard to believe the little guy is already that old. I was with him for his 3rd birthday, and do regret missing this one. Sent him a postcard from India, but it hasn’t gotten there, and I fear the Indian Post has lost it somewhere. Anyway, let’s all wish Jacob a very happy 4th birthday. We should all have as much fun as our 4-year-old nephews! Over and out.

This will be a short posting, and one devoted mostly to a single theme: having friends come to visit. Given where my head is after a week of hosting friends from Europe, I think I need to unburden myself of various emotions that have emerged.

Having friends come visit provides both a mirrow and a window for the host. Curt and Marta came from London to Goa a week ago, and their visit has provided serious food for thought. Curt and I have been friends for 20 years. We met at the Border Café in Cambridge, Mass. – I was a waiter, he was a brand-new busboy, cleaning my tables. After the shift I talked to the manager and helped get him a job as a waiter, and we’ve been friends ever since. We’ve hung out on nearly every continent and have shared our hopes, dreams, and fears over the decades.

Curt married Marta, a Spanish woman, about three years ago. They had two children straightaway, and that has kept them more than busy. So while they came to Goa largely to see me, they were also in sore need of a getaway. Perfectly sensible – many people could identify with that.

This was their first trip to India, and I was somewhat concerned about their ability to ‘take it.’ Marta has spent a bit of time in Africa, but still, India is a tough place and these two were very used to London and its (costly) comforts.

I had planned a few things for their visit – yoga in the mornings, a trip to an Ayurvedic massage spa, a few dinners, etc. – but didn’t want to overwhelm them. And I’m glad I didn’t exert more effort than I did, because the day after they arrived in Goa, they discovered that Marta was pregnant. I had already realized from previous interactions that Marta is a strong person with a very clearly-defined way of thinking and doing things…and finding out that she was pregnant, while in the chaotic country of India, did not make things particularly smooth.

Curt, of course, had to bear the brunt, but I got dragged along as well. They considered flying home early, and had me take them to my travel agent to investigate options. Then they considered changing hotels, because they called Marta’s Spanish OB/GYN, who advised her to avoid riding a scooter around – a prerequisite for staying at Bean Me Up, as it’s a bit off the main track. I tried to be understanding and put myself in their shoes – but at the same time was well aware that tens of millions of babies are born here every year and that pregnant women work in the fields for months and months. What is the proper path, sahib?

Forgive me if this is becoming a rant. I guess that my points really are the following:

-Some friends are particularly needy…and I’ve noticed that oftentimes these friends are the worst at maintaining control over their lives, with constant ‘surprises’ popping up which require immediate attention. Last year I visited Curt and Marta in London. I had meant to hang out with Curt for a few days there (Marta was with the kids in Spain), but then Curt had to fly out to a meeting in Istanbul. I understood, and as you can probably tell, I relish my privacy and am happy to be solo, but it did make me shake my head a bit. This time, despite knowing they were coming to India way back in the summer, they got pregnant (I know, that term is annoying) and that colored the rest of their time here.

-Along the same line of thinking, these friends tend to prioritize their needs/schedule over yours (particularly if you’re in my situation – single and not working, hence ‘with nothing to do’). Over the past week, I’ve had to adjust bookings on the fly, and serve as a glorified concierge, and my own schedule and tasks have been pushed back. It’s true that nothing on my plate is that urgent, but I still feel like I’ve lost days of writing and exercise.

-I probably need to be more empathetic towards those with busy lives. Some people do thrive when they get married, then have three kids in four years, with both parents having full-time jobs in a large city. I come at life from a point of view of needing private time – for reading, for thinking, for listening to music, etc. If three kids were to enter my life in a short span, I would probably be deeply unhappy. I can’t prove that – in life there are no control groups. But I’m fairly certain I would mourn the loss of my own time. Other people – Curt, for one – seem quite different and always seem to want people around and to talk.

-Most people who host friends for more than a day or two probably feel some of what I’m feeling. It’s hard stuff. It’s often not that satisfying an experience – and all the more disappointing, given that the trip may have been planned for months and your guests are jazzed about it. I had some concerns before Curt and Marta got here, and that sixth sense of mine is often correct…so I’m not at all shocked with how I feel right now. To get back to my first point in this series, some people are more difficult guests…others are a joy. The latter group, unfortunately, is probably in the minority.

-For the time being, I think I need to remain a solo traveler. Watching the tension between Curt and Marta (and I can’t believe the tension isn’t worse when they’re behind closed doors) frightens me immensely. I suppose they have a good relationship and marriage…but I think that the compromises that Curt makes are serious and I’d be surprised he’s OK in making them, except that he has historically been overly acqueiscent around women.

For all of that, there were some high points to the week. This was my first time in Goa over Xmas/New Years, and the place was buzzing. We did some yoga in the mornings. Marta got in one session before discovering that she was pregnant. She really hit it off with Gaby, the instructor, and later sought her out for counsel on being pregnant here, and about yoga and life in general. Of course, true to form, she and Curt probably upset Gaby’s fragile schedule by simply rocking up at the yoga shala, although Gaby was gracious and helpful, as always.

We got that Ayurvedic massage, then met with an Ayurvedic physician who diagnosed me as having a ‘pitta-dosha’ (fire) body type. Interesting stuff. I liked the fact that the fellow did not bad-mouth Western medicine, and said that each approach had its pros and cons. I wouldn’t go to an Ayurvedic doctor if I were diagnosed with cancer – and this guy agreed that Western medicine was far more efficacious with serious conditions like cancer.

We went to the Ingo’s Saturday Night Bazaar, where Curt and I drank a fair bit of beer with Richard. Richard gave us a tour of his house/tofu factory the next day – Curt and Marta thought it was just great and talked of doing something similar in Europe one day.

Bean Me Up had a New Year’s Eve party, which was good fun. Management and staff were all good and drunk, and prancing around. Bini asked to use my scooter to go get something in the staff house…I assented. Then Lisa came up and told me that Bini was shit-faced and that I probably shouldn’t have lent him my bike. He had looked OK to me, but I still fretted for 45 minutes until he returned to BMU, grinning like a happy boy. Lisa set right on him and came pretty close to sacking him for this and other stupid moves. I felt pretty badly, but at the same time any offense of mine was pretty minor and these days I try not to let little things bother me. Of course, if Bini had come back in a box, that would not be a little thing. Making good decisions is paramount in life – I will make a conscious effort from now on to ask that additional question, and I hope Bini does the same.

We spend a day in the capital, Panjim, a city I really enjoy. Had New Year’s Day brunch at the Goa Marriott Resort. I tend to be a real terror at these sorts of buffets, and did my usual damage. Then we slept by the pool for a few hours. Curt and Marta seemed exhausted…in Marta’s case, being pregnant, that was expected.

Took a cab out to Old Goa. Marta is an architect and wanted to see the old churches in Old Goa. Sun was setting by the time we reached there, but we spend a good hour or so walking around and taking in the sights. It’s such an atmospheric, ghostly place – I can’t think of anywhere else like it. Marta and Curt liked Old Goa, and would probably benefit from a longer return visit.

Had a drink at the classic Panjim Inn. Marta raised the idea of creating a hotel brand that offered impeccable cleanliness with minimalistic design at budget prices. She wasn’t thrilled with the value of the hotels she’d seen in India – not always clean, lots of unnecessary clutter/stuff in the rooms, higher prices than expected. I admit that Mumbai and Goa hotels are not great value…but at the same time each of us has his/her own value equation. For me, BMU is great value – US$15/night, clean (not spotless), cool atmosphere and restaurant. Marta prefers a place with white walls and little else – no TV (I agree there), no paintings, etc. Her point is that some people need a refuge at the end of the day from the craziness and filth of India. That’s reasonable, although I wonder if the people most in need of that sort of escape simply don’t bother coming here. And to me, that sort of hotel room sounds more like a mental asylum – white walls and a bed.

There’s probably something about the Spanish mindset. They seem to be a little hygiene-crazy, at least about the usual suspects (bedsheets, bathroom door handle, water glass). But they seem to overlook other potential sources of germs – phones, computer keyboards, their own food (e.g., chorizo). Marta complained that the Goa Marriott didn’t seem that clean, and wasn’t at the level of 5-star hotels elsewhere. I’m not sure I agree with that. In any event, it was an education for me to get a sense of how Marta thinks. She and Curt teased me later on – they said I’d now never marry a Spanish woman. I’ve already given a fair amount of thought to what kind of person would make a good companion for me – but they were not wrong either. Compromises are always necessary, I recognize that…but I will need to perform serious due diligence before getting hitched, or even picking a traveling companion, because I now truly know myself and know that I would go insane if my consort were argumentative about elements that simply are inconsequential for me.

Rant now over. Thanks for bearing with me. Went for a nice bike ride last night, after having dinner at BMU. Curt and Marta went down to the Taj Fort Aguada Hotel for a couple nights, to have a ‘second honeymoon’ and to escape before returning to London and dealing with two kids and a fetus…so I was solo again and feeling unencumbered. While riding in the cool night air, I noticed that Maria at Connexions (travel agency) was still working. It was 11 p.m. I have teased Maria in these pages about being lazy, or at least coming across that way. She sits in her chair like a toad and always has a blank look on her face – when she told me she was concerned about my Vietnam visa, her face retained the same blank look. But here she was, working late at night…and I’ve seen her there on other nights, too, working away. There’s more to her than meets the eye, that seems clear. It’s important for me to be somewhat critical in my thinking and writing – I’ve never trusted people who like everyone and everything. At the same time, I need to temper my judgement with data and reality. Maria’s probably just a mellow, calm lady who knows her shit and works hard. Unlike me, for example…

My scooter has a kickstand, like all other scooters. It’s balky, so I need to reach down and pull it out with my hand. No big deal. But for some reason last night, after my ride, I sat and looked at the kickstand for a couple minutes. Will I remember having to pull out this kickstand 6 months from now? How many of the little background bits of this season in Goa will remain with me down the road? I try not to get too bogged down in the minutiae of life when I write these entries; at the same time, staying at 20,000 feet and trying to cover only the grand themes is too general an approach. I can only hope that I can continue to train my mind and eyes to take in and consider the small as well as the large, and to be unusually perceptive. Anyone can tell you about the basics – it’s the stuff between the lines that really stands out. And, on that note, welcome to 2008 – don’t have a cow!