If you've never been to a place like this it is so hard to understand what it's like and I really am at a loss for words to explain it. But I'll try. I'll also send some evocative photos as they present themselves.
Ok, I've finally gotten my iPhone fired up, so here's my first report. I should say up front how incredibly happy I am to be here, in case the rest of my report makes you doubt that. I arrived yesterday to beautiful warm weather. It was 32 celsius (about 95 Fahrenheit) when we got off the plane, which is just right for me. I took a pre-paid taxi, which I thought was very expensive. The driver went like mad, of course. We only had one accident, when he sideswiped another vehicle while he was passing a bus on a bridge. Lots of glass hit me in the face, but we didn't stop, so I took that to mean it was not serious.
I went first to Andre Couthino's house, where I stayed last time. No joy. So I went to the shop, Dylan Store, and left my bag. The lady there wanted to rent me one of her rooms, which were ok, but the ones with kitchens had no cooking facilities. She assured me that she could get me a stove, but that gas was a problem. Actually it seems that gas is easy to get but the gas cylinders are impossible to come by, without bribing a government official for a permit or a license.
Then, my first stop was Pauline Lopes's. Pauline runs the shack on the beach where I liked to hang out last time and she lives right behind the shack. My friend, Philippe from Paris stayed in one of her apartments and it was positively glamorous with a view of the ocean. Pauline's house was my first choice, but I had emailed her daughter six months ago and knew she was full.
On the way, I met the local Nigerian drug dealer, who followed next to me on his motorbike, wanting to be my friend. I made it clear that I didn't want drugs, but I have a feeling that this new friendship may come in handy one day. Pauline didn't know of anything, but her husband made some phone calls and found me a place 5km down the beach, which didn't sound good to me. So the next stop was the money changer. I changed some dollars and bought a SIM card for my phone, then wandered back toward the old neighborhood, but in a larger circle this time, basically walking into people's houses and asking them if they knew of an apartment for rent. Usually they would ask me how long, and only after I said three weeks, would they offer to help and direct me here or there. Everywhere I was sent was full.
After about two hours of this, I was sent through a series of people to Mama Cecelia, who looked me up and down and sent me to a woman who might know a place. She looked me up and down and came out and took me down the road to the house right next to Pauline's where I had first started. So this is right next to where Philippe and Christine stayed last time I was here. Now by this time, I had rubbed the skin on my feet and heels raw, wearing the sandals I have not worn since August. I can tell that this will spell future trouble. As it turns out, this is the house of the brother of Pauline's husband. They don't speak to each other. In fact, when the girl showing me the apartment told me her name, (also Lopes) I asked if she was related to Pauline and she said no.
The apartment is not very nice, a bit dirty and lots of insects, but the location is perfect (as close to the beach as possible, right behind Pauline's shack, where I like to hang out.) And it has cooking facilities. It is smaller than my place last time and not as new. She cleaned it for me before I moved in. (Really???) and provided a bottom sheet on the bed and two pillows. The bed feels like a yoga mat on top of marble, but not quite that soft. I should have a perfect back after three weeks. The bathroom sink seems to drain right into the floor, which is better than the kitchen sink, which does not drain at all, just standing, dirty, stagnant water (always good in a malarial region). As usual, it is much hotter inside the house than outside, so the ceiling fans are going like crazy. They sound like old jet engines that nobody bothered to lubricate for thirty years. Really loud. The kitchen and bathroom seem to be where most of the bugs are, marching in formation across the walls. This makes me wonder two things: where are they going, and what the hell did they spray in the bedroom to keep the bugs out of there. Remember the scene in one of the Harry Potter books where the giant spiders are all marching into the forest and the kids decide to follow them, eventually finding the mother of all spiders, the size of Europe...
Once I settled on a price for the apartment, I cut my SIM card to fit my phone, and it did not work. So I went back to the money changer, where he and his son and his son's friend, and his son's friend's brother tried for three hours to get it working. This was more painful than searching for an apartment. Finally the money changer said it would not work with Iphone and gave me my money back, saying to go to Mapusa for a Vodaphone SIM card the next day. I went back to the little shop and bought toilet paper, a towel, and water and went back to wipe the grime from my face.
I went off to my local favorite, Harmony Restaurant, for dinner. It was nearly 8pm now. I didn't realize how exhausted I was until I briefly fell asleep at the table, waiting for my dinner. As I remembered the food was amazingly good. Kingfish baked in a Tandoori oven with potatoes and vegetables. Mmm. As usual, I don't fall asleep easily in new places, and it was even hotter in the house than before. I turned off the ceiling fan over the bed, since I hate having air blow on me at night, especially here since it is so dirty from the dirt lanes outside. I think I actually fell asleep but then woke at 2am with Mosquitos buzzing in my ear, so I turned the fan back on and threw a dhoti over myself. By then I had a pounding headache, it was still really hot in the bedroom, and I did not fall back asleep. At least the outrageous noise of the fans drowned out the barking dogs next door. I got up in the dark to pee and the bathroom lightbulb exploded. A bit dangerous since one always walks barefoot inside here, but I thought at least some of the glass might fall on the insects and reduce their numbers. The apartment is so funny the way it is decorated. There are only three electrical sockets in the apartment, and one is occupied, powering the sweet catholic shrine on a shelf in the living room, with a flickering light bulb.
I got up in the morning and went for a run on the beach just as the sun was rising. So beautiful. I'm writing this in the bus to Mapusa, the closest small city/large town, which is a lot like writing inside a barrel rolling down Niagara Falls, except there are more cows in the way. Everyone here uses their horns instead of their brakes. It's wild. Ok, I'm back from Mapusa. I really do love it there. Although I must say the process of getting my phone to work was a tad frustrating. I was told explicitly by the money changer to go to the Vodophone Store, you can't miss it. He also made sure to instruct me to wait there until it was functioning and NOT TO LEAVE UNTIL THE PHONE IS FUNCTIONING. Ok. Ok. So the first thing I see when I get off the bus in crowded Mapusa is about a hundred tiny "stores" with big signs, saying "Vodophone". Sigh. So it turns out that none of them sells SIM cards and each one directs me in a slightly different direction to the Vodophone Store. Well it turns out to be not at all near the centre of town, so is a bit of a hike. And it's packed. I push my way in and the lady is quick to push the locals aside to deal with me. She begins quizzing me to see if I have the necessary documents, certain that I won't. I course I have come prepared with photocopies of my passport and visa a passport photo of myself, etc. She looks crestfallen that she has not stumped me. Then she gets a gleam in her eye and announces that she wants two copies of everything. No one else requires this and she was not requiring it of anyone else. But one does not argue. She asks me if I have another photo and I smile and say yes I do. She snarls. She asks if I have another photocopy of my documents. No, but I have the original. Finally she smiles and says I must return when I am prepared. Lol. So I go off in search of a xerox machine. You can see how this goes... Anyhow, when I have Finally jumped through all the hoops and paid for the SIM card, I am told that it will not be active until after 8:30. It is just too funny. I'd been there for an hour and a half and was not inclined to wait another minute. So I left with my fingers crossed.
Then I went to buy some lunghis to wear here, a stove top espresso maker, a coffee mug, a fork, a spoon, a knife, a plate, a bowl and a pan for omelettes and a pot for heating milk in the morning. Then a quick trip to the dispensing chemist for drugs I'm too embarrassed to ask my doctor for and bandages for my bloody feet. Then off to the road where all the banana sellers are to try a kind of banana I've never had. There must be people selling forty different kinds of bananas. How great is that? Then the last stop is the dairy for fresh buffalo milk for my morning cappucino, buffalo curd (which I was sad to see I no longer sold in little clay pots-sad), fresh cheese and butter. And of course a lassi while I waited to be rung up.
I love Mapusa. There are so many things I want to take photos of, but can't do it fast enough. Like the big signs in the busses, saying "No Smoking. No Spitting." But when standing up in a speeding bus, swerving to avoid a stray dog in the road, surrounded by forty Indians, all packed close together and gawking at me, the last thing on my mind is reaching into my purse for my iPhone. So I got back from Mapusa in time for a swim and a late lunch. Pauline's husband said he had nice fresh snapper caught this morning, so I asked him to make me fish curry rice. It was so so good! Then a bit of sun and another swim. No venomous sea serpents spotted yet, but I'm on the lookout! Because I'm so pale, I am having to endure the unending unwanted attention of beggars and hawkers selling the usual junk. "Please. Please. Just to me a little business. It will make me so happy." Sorry, I really don't want a beaded bag or a shell necklace. It was so so great to swim in the warm Arabian Sea. However the stinging in my bloody foot sores did make me think it was not the best idea.
As expected, the response to my mustache has been overwhelming. They love it. People here are much less reserved about expressing their opinion. So I have had many comments (mostly positive, I think) about my body or my clothing or my mustache and often about my whole look. Apparently as odd as I look walking in the West End of Provincetown, wearing Indian garments, they think it's even weirder here. Wait until they get a look at me at the Taj in Bombay!
This afternoon I went to the lovely little bookshop nearby and bought a pile of new Indian novels and one nonfiction book and sat in their lush garden and enjoyed a cup of coffee. Then I did my food shopping for a proper breakfast and then finally arranged the apartment the way I like with a table and comfortable chair on the terrace outside. Now I'm on the beach watching the sunset. It is so very beautiful here. Now I am laughing out loud because just after I typed that, a stray dog came up to me, I said hello, and he came right in front of me and took a big crap!
नमस्ते
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