BootsnAll Travel Network



Good Night, and Good Luck 2007…

I remarked last week that it’s been two years since I left my job. I got some emails from friends asking me if I had any regrets, if my inclusion of that point signaled any desire to return to work. Let’s just say that if I were to say “yes,” well, there’d be a shorter and better answer. I’m quite happy where (and when) I am in life. But I did get a jolt a few days ago, when I opened an email from a former colleague in Mumbai. I had emailed him a couple months back, and he was finally getting round to replying. After the obligatory niceties, he wrote asking if I wanted to work on an ‘Indian social change’ project he’s running. He attached a Word document as way of explaining the actual project.

I was particularly surprised because the title of the document was ‘Overview MBS incl housing by MK’. A quick key: ‘MBS’ are my initials and how I used to sign work emails. ‘housing’ looked suspiciously like an offer to put me up somewhere while I got back to work. And ‘MK’ could be the initials of the firm’s senior partner in Asia. Synthesized, this looked to be a fairly advanced proposal for my eyes, a (loud) whisper campaign to get me to return; I was a bit annoyed simply from reading the title. And then I opened it, and saw with some relief that it was no such subterfuge – ‘MBS’ stood for ‘Market-Based Solutions,’ ‘housing’ for a housing-related component of the project, and ‘MK’ for another partner of the firm. Just a generic project overview, nothing more. Whew. I scanned it briefly, it looked intellectually stimulating but not something I wanted to do. And the fact that my friend took two months to reply to my email (this project kept him so busy he ‘barely had time to breathe,’ according to his note) was not a selling point. I recalled those days well, even two years on; so I respectfully declined his offer. I imagine he was in no way surprised by my response.

Had dinner at Sublime with Prem Joshua and girlfriend Suzanne, Umang, Sat, and Hassan. The place was packed and we waited forever for our food, but that wasn’t a problem because we were sitting in the ‘bed’ area and went through a couple bottles of wine. And we had a great conversation that went all over the place. One topic was my idea to put together a ‘Goa Comedy’ piece that mocked several sacred cows, a la:

-the ‘old days’ of Goa and how they were so much better (Josh calls people who talk like this the ‘Goa Inventors’)
-yoga and yogis – taking it too seriously (see my comments from recent entries)
-other quirks of Goa life – Josh lives in a house this year, and the other night when he got up to pee, his landlady thought the water was left running and shut it off – I told Josh that from now on he should pee into a cup and, just to be sure, brush with it and then drink it down…

Josh has been getting some shit for his graying locks – everyone seems to be mentioning it this year. Except for me – if you live in a glass house, don’t throw stones. I wish I had long, gray hair! But this did provoke a discussion about things that stand out in our memories. I recall visiting Sacre Coeur in Paris years ago, and seeing Robert Plant from Led Zeppelin descend the steps, a stunning woman on his arm. I vividly recall being amazed at Plant’s size (he’s well over 6 feet tall), and his wild, graying hair (similar to Josh’s). He looked like a god coming down from Mt. Olympus. As for his consort, I recall she was stunning but that was it – no details remain. If she were Joni Mitchell or perhaps a famous model, I probably would remember more, but as it was, all I stored were details about my boyhood hero. Weird, huh?

Spent some time reconciling my finances for year-end. No real tasks, just wanted to have a good snapshot of my situation. And I can’t complain – 2007 was another good year. I spent a bit more than I expected to…but the market overall went up solidly and I made good progress. My strategy is working and I’m damn glad about that – but I suppose the downside is that I don’t feel any compelling need to be productive. That said, I did have a revelation while on the treadmill last week, and now have a pretty good idea about my book idea and how to frame it. I’ve been going back and forth about how to set up the book and its thesis, and in hindsight I’m happy I didn’t pour a ton of effort into working on it earlier…it was important that I ‘see the light’ and now I believe I have. Now, of course, I need to prioritize the writing and find the time – and I will make that a focus in the new year. Hold me to it, readers…

Went to the Saturday Night Bazaar again – lots of people there, eating, drinking, buying and selling. Weird 70s heavy metal band onstage, playing Deep Purple and whatnot. Behind them was a huge poster advertising ‘i-Pill.’ No, i-Pill isn’t something you take to improve your computer game skills…it’s an emergency contraceptive taken if your condom breaks or if you decide you really don’t want to have a baby in 9 months. Yet another symbol of India changing, something like this would have been unthinkable years ago…

A bird shit on me while I was eating breakfast a couple days ago. It was a small dropping, and my pants were already ready for a washing, so no big deal. But thinking back, the last time this happened was in Goa, years ago – and I was wearing my last clean shirt back then. I had had to go out and buy a new shirt that time…they say that bird shit is lucky, but I fail to understand…

Wanted to check out the diving here in Goa. I’ve been told it’s average, but felt like some underwater time. The day before I planned to go, I downloaded some podcasts, one of which was a Discovery Channel piece on two divers who had been lost 20 miles from the Solomon Islands. They had to swim to shore through shark-infested waters. They made it, but barely. Didn’t discourage me from diving, but every time I hear these sorts of tales I am reminded of the dangers of diving and how you need the right equipment. These two didn’t even have a ‘safety sausage’ or a whistle/air horn, any of which would likely have alerted their boat and averted their hellish experience.

Went out with Goa Dive Center out of Calangute, run by a German woman. Nice day out…average diving (at best). You take the boat to Grande Island, an hour away. First dive was in a coral bed on one side of the island – I dove with a couple other certified divers, while the German woman taught a course to some others. This dive site was not great – we attempted to follow her suggested path, but it was a real maze and we ended up far away, around the bend of the island. The waves were breaking against the rocks, and I got a few cuts fighting my way back into the deeper waters. Not quite Tom Hanks in Cast Away, but challenging enough. Got back to the boat and went onboard for lunch.

Second dive was better. The German woman guided us, and we explored a 50-year-old Portuguese shipwreck in 15 meters of water. Huge boat – I think it was carrying railroad ties/trestles. Now it’s broken apart in a few sections. The issue is that the visibility is not good, maybe 3-5 meters, so you’re constantly struggling to stick together as a dive team and not get lost. Perhaps the best part was that another dive shop, Barracuda, had placed a small Xmas tree and a ‘Merry Xmas!’ note on part of the wreck – it was funny to swim by and see that down there.

Random – while I was underwater, those still on the boat sat mesmerized as a plane went down at the airport, a few miles away. They said it descended (too) quickly, then there was an explosion and a plume of smoke. This being Goa, it was hard to get any real news about it – and I subsequently put it out of my mind till the next morning, when I read that a one-seater Navy Harrier plane went down at Dabolim Airport. The pilot ejected and was fine…

All in all, a pleasant day out – the diving was forgettable, but I do love being under the waves and may consider diving in the Indian Lakshdweep or Andaman Islands in coming months. At the very least, I’ll be in Cebu in early April and am already planning some dives with friends there.

These two recent dives were my 97th and 98th in total…so next time out I’ll get up to 100 dives. I’d best make it someplace special. As for 2007, I’ve had 59 dives – more than my cumulative experience before the year. I think I’m done for the year…but what a year it’s been for diving.

Christmas in Goa – quite a concept. The place is getting crowded, but I think less so than usual, and less than I had anticipated. It’s not overwhelmingly crazy – and I’m pleased about that.

Various Xmas scenes and thoughts from Goa:

-the other night I saw some Xmas carolers walking down the side of the road, led by the world’s skinniest Indian Santa Claus
-I got email Xmas cards from travel agents I’ve used in Australia (a Chinese woman named Jessie) and in Thailand (Lydia, the dyspeptic one). Business must be down…
-Bean Me Up has a veg Xmas dinner with all the trimmings. Lisa makes this nut loaf that tastes a lot like meat, and is quite tasty, particularly if you indulge in organic activities beforehand…
-Hilltop, near BMU, got its holiday mayhem going with a two-day party starting Xmas Eve. I hadn’t been there before, so ponied up the 1000 Rupees and went. Ran into friend Hassan there, who came equipped and we had lots of good laughs. Thankfully there were loads of food vendors all around the perimeter – I can get so hungry at these parties that I often wonder if I’ve shifted species and become some sort of canine.
-had lots of memories of past Xmases, all over the world. I often wonder if my memory is worsening…and even how solid it was to start with. I try to be good about note-taking for this slog, if I didn’t tap notes into my Treo every day my entries would be short indeed. But I’ve concluded that I remember the important stuff – at the very least, I think my memory is better than most. Perhaps it’s because I no longer have to fill my brain with tons of work-related matters…
-a couple Xmas photos from Bean Me Up. Lisa and head waiter Vinod are in the second one…

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Felt like crap on Boxing Day, stomach was giving me fits and I felt weak all over. I’ve actually had a touch of nausea over the past couple weeks, but haven’t bothered with it. This time it was bad…I was a wreck all day, and finally popped a Cipro. This is admittedly the nuclear option – I could have tried an organic solution like grapefruit seed oil, which Lisa and others advocate. Antibiotics are problematic in that they clear out the good bacteria along with the bad…still, I only use ‘em when I feel deathly, and over the years I’ve had good luck. This time was no different – within a half-day I was feeling much better, and a day or so later, as I write this entry, I feel remade. Went to yoga this morning and was able to get through most of the poses.

Glenn, the teaching assistant from yoga class, came by my table here at BMU just now. We hadn’t really spoken before, although he’s adjusted my poses in class countless times. He seems a super-nice guy, and now that we’ve had a chance to talk a bit, I might be less annoyed when he pulls my arm back when I’m in some contorted position…

My current month of yoga is now up, Gaby the teacher told me this morning. I need to think of my next step…Curt and Marta get here tomorrow, and admittedly one reason I’ve tried to keep up with class is that I want them to have a place to practice when they’re here – and Gaby’s shala is a stunning place, set near the sea. At the same time, I don’t know how often C&M will want to get up and practice…and I also question whether I want to keep up 6 times/week during the balance of my time in Goa this season…so I told Gaby I’ll just pay for each class (rate is of course higher) and see how I feel in a couple weeks. Gotta keep my options open – the story of my life!

Am reading an intriguing book called “A Fortune-Teller Told Me.” The thesis: an Italian journalist living in Asia is told by a Hong Kong fortune-teller, back in 1976, that he musn’t fly in 1993 for fear of crashing/dying. Years later, the author considers this prediction and decides not to fly for the year, instead taking trains, buses, cars, and boats. I’m only partway into the book, but it covers his perambulations around Asia and Europe and it’s a very good read. So many incredible books out there…even I am pressed for time in getting to a small fraction of them.

I just heard that Benazir Bhutto was assassinated today. She was shot at a campaign rally, by person(s) unknown. Huge news out here…that won’t help Pakistan settle down anytime soon. I read the news here in the internet cafe…and when I exclaimed loudly about it, the British doofus next to me said ‘I should know that name but I don’t…who’s that?’ He then left, and I commented to the employee manning the desk about the ignorance of some of the foreign continent here. He replied, ‘I don’t know that person either.’ You’ve got to be kidding me…I know that Goans are lazy, but Benazir Bhutto is in the news pretty much every day and she was PM of Pak for 8 fucking years…

As I near the end of this entry, I’m reminded that I had half-heartedly promised to include some sort of ‘2007 greatest hits’ list. This is my final entry for the year…and I do want to leave you with something to ponder, something which encapsulates what I’ve ingested from my Asian experience. I’m not really in a list-making mode – that was so 2006! – and I prefer to leave you with a slightly random final vignette instead. Here it is:

A couple days ago, I got an unsolicited email from a fellow named Michael, who had read a past slog entry and wanted to know my father’s name. Why? Because Michael had also served at March Air Force Base in California during the Vietnam War, and he had been sent to Vietnam from this base in the place of another man whose wife had just given birth. I had written of my father avoiding such a fate by dint of my sister’s timely birth, and Michael thought there might be a thread there. I plan to check on this with my father…but regardless of the outcome, I am struck by the background links running between us all. A random email from a Vietnam War vet…a father’s backstory…the son’s wanderings and musings. Is there any relevance in our having the same name? What else is at play? Perhaps reading the fortune-teller book has had some esoteric influence on my thinking, but I think it may be as much a case of my eyes taking some time to fully open and see. Over and out.



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