Wanderlust Heaven!

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!

This entry was posted on Friday, January 4th, 2008 at 12:06 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.