Spiritual Goa and Little Appu: Churches, Temples and the Beach

I'm resisting the urge to label myself complaisant. There have been no posts for a while. The reason? Well, I've been sitting on the beach mostly. Actually it's been very therapeutic: generating space and time to clear the rubbish bin of life. It's not all lazy days and hazy ways though, as I've also visited some amazing churches in Old Goa and witnessed a Hindu festival...

There are some pretty awesome beaches in Goa. As someone who grew up by the sea, it makes me feel immediately at home. There is something so pacifying about being next to water. Having a great expanse of space to gaze over seems to do the same thing metaphorically in the mind. It clears space. Many people I have met here by the sea, seem so content with their lot.

Last week, I went to Morjim Beach, a bit further north up the coast from Anjuna. Less crowded with golden, silken sand, this beach has more of a boutique feel to it, catering for the upmarket Westerner. After a lunch of delicious salads and pasta with broccoli (broccoli arriving much to the delight of the present diners) it was time to relax on the sun loungers. Usually, the time spent on the regular beaches at Anjuna and Vagator is frequently interrupted by the passing tradesmen and women, "Madam, you want to take look at my shop? I give you good price." However, Morjim beach seems to attract less of this, so you can be left in relative peace.

Beautiful Lelia, a celebrity in her own right

Somehow though, my friends and I managed to get chatting to a Lelia, who was selling sarongs on the beach. She managed to charm us with her bright and easy nature. She seemed so happy to be where she was right then, even though much of her business had eschewed her for the designer beach shacks, one of which is Jade Jagger's new enterprise. "Do you know Jade Jagger?" Lelia asked me. "No, I don't know her." "She's very nice," Lelia replied, not seeming at all aroused by her celebrity status.

Then there was Little Appu and his friend. Going solo on Anjuna Beach, I fancied a bit of alone time. When I heard two little voices, saying, "hello, hello," I thought, just ignore them, they will go away. But there was something infectious in their little chirps, so I decided to speak to them. They'd come to the beach to play so I asked them what games they normally play on the beach. Blank faces. Maybe they didn't understand. "Where I come from, we build sand castles on the beach." Again, empty stares. "You, know? Castles, they're like giant houses." Then came smiles and nodding.

It seemed they only had a stick to play with, so they started to draw pictures in the sand and were delighted when I asked if I could take their picture.

Appu with his friend and the elephant he drew for me

I left them to their games and promptly drifted of into a gentle dream. When I woke up, they were gone, but they left behind this mural, including a "sand castle" in the bottom left corner. I hope you can make it out from this picture.

As I said, on one of my more adventurous days, I visited Old Goa, with it's plethora of perishing churches. It was a disorientating experience. Coming from a Christian country (even though I'm not a Christian) I would have thought that I could relate to these buildings. Not so. In fact, wondering round, I felt rather disconnected, disturbed even. Perhaps it had something to do with the many goggling faces, which seemed to cry out from every crevice. Here are a selection of my favorites. 

But then there was something I found quite beautiful about the town's golden patina. The town was originally built by the Portuguese in the 15th Century, but was eventually abandoned due to plague in the 18th Century, hence the crumbling feel of the place.

Much more, colourful and inviting was the Hindu temple that we visited nearby. They happened to be in the middle of a festival.

A typical scene - a dog asleep amongst the hubbub

Ok, so true to form, I'm going to sign of sharp, as it's time to hit the beach again! What? It's therapy, right?

Luck, Judgement and Appetite...

All three came back in one go actually, each giving momentum to the other. I spent a few days in bed over the weekend with an upset stomach (not that uncommon to Westerners who are not used to the Indian 'way of things'). But after a visit to the lovely local doctor (no need to book an appointment - just walk right up), I was right as rain quick enough. So with new found resolve and added energy now that my appetite was back, I got all intrepid again. And now I have some more revelations from beautiful Goa.

Yesterday, I visited Panjim, the capital of Goa. Like the visit to Mapusa, I went by bus, as it's a bit far to travel by scooter and besides, I haven't dared to venture onto the roads yet (although someone has offered to give me a lesson tomorrow!). But I kinda like the adventure of taking the bus. PLUS they have "Ladies Only" seats. Coming from London where pregnant ladies are often forced to stand on packed tube trains and have to wear badges saying "baby on board" to emphasise the fact that they are travelling for two, I am in favor of this practice. After all, I'm a lady, naturally. *does David Walliams impression in head* So I spent the journey sat next to a nun. Perfect. I didn't have to put up with unwanted attention from the local men and the constant, "where are you from?"

Panjim Church

Actually, in case you didn't know, Goa is extremely Christian. It's the Portuguese influence, as Goa was a former colony of Portugal and feels very European. There are no ancient Hindu temples anymore; the Portuguese tore them all down during their conquest. However, there are many very beautiful churches here, including the extrusive Panjim church, which emanates over the city with its intensely white facade.

Characteristically, the view from the church in the opposite direction tells a very different story and is more in keeping with the feel of what I have experienced of Goa so far.

The view from the opposite direction

I find there's something strangely satisfying about this exchange between the splendorous Goa and the garbage and grot that so often seems to accompany it. It somehow seems more real, more balanced. After all, is there really such a thing as perfection?

Beautiful colourful Goa! And its junk...

I should say, that the purpose of my visit to Panjim was actually to see the reformed band, Shakti. They are mostly influenced by classical Indian music, but also have a strong Western influence from the guitarist John McLoughlin. I guess you'd call it (the dreaded) world music. I think I may be reaching the stage in life where I will start going to Womad Festival. I thought I'd be older than this...

In fact, the concert was amazing. These guys are such incredible musicians. I can't really find the words to describe the experience. Here is a link to a You Tube clip of Zakir Hussain, who plays tabala with this band and is very famous in India. He is incredible. It's that level of mastery when art begins to speak in a different language. Pure beauty.

I'm going to sign off with a few pictures again. Enjoy :)

This guy was so friendly. I <3 Goa!

Vagator Beach

Panorama of the Mapusa bus junction. Total chaos! In a good way :)

Sweet Surrender and the Bus to Mapusa Market

I'm starting to surrender to the pace of life in this serene and placid place. The days are filled with leisure: unhurried practice, breakfast and whatever. No surprise I'm quickly getting used to it.

My first glimpse of India from the plane window was quite a telling one. Mumbai - the brush turned to high rise, turned to tightly packed slums, shacks upon shacks that stretched right to the edge of Mumbai airport.

Making my way through the airport to reach my connecting flight to Goa, I could feel the huffs of the impatient Brits on the back of my neck.

"Babe, what are you walking up and down for?" a man asked his stroppy girlfriend.

"It's this f**king airport!" I think she must have still been operating with her London (judging by the accent) expectations.

I take their point. When you're used to things happening a little quicker and more efficiently,  it can seem frustrating. Time to surrender to life with a different point of focus.

And then my arrival in Goa was a great introduction to the Goan way of doing things. At the airport, there were guys just hanging out in the middle of the runway, waving at the plane as she landed (I couldn't work out if they were actually airport staff as they weren't wearing high vis) and inside the airport the Christmas decorations were still up.

Also, as my taxi took me to Anjuna, the place where I'll be staying for the next month, I noticed that the women travelling on the back of the scooters (EVERYBODY travels by scooter round here) were barely even holding on, even though the roads are crazy as hell. They seemed to feel at ease with what would be and the lack of tension seemed only to help them to stay firmly put on the bike.

Anjuna is an interesting place. There seem to be a few ways of living here. There are plenty of people like me, fellow yogis who have come to take their practice in a special place and with some really great teachers. There are also quite a few ravers (mostly German by my observation) who are really into their trance. A hangover perhaps from the hippy days. Actually, the local government have really cracked down on the illegal beach parties recently, due to the steep rise in tourism. But I have seen very few of the "all inclusive" type holiday makers. I guess they have been confined to their resorts.

The shop keeper and his newspaper article

And the locals are very friendly. Many seem pretty content to make as much money out of the visitors as possible. In fact, there's a bit of a debate running round here, as the infiltration of foreigners has pushed prices up considerably, making it very hard for locals without the means to make the most out of the tourist trade.

A shopkeeper I met at Mapusa market had written an article for his local paper on this very topic. He described the practice of having two prices for locals and tourists as "bullshit." He was very proud of this article, but I couldn't read it: it was in Hindi.

The bus ride to Mapusa. The sign says, "No spitting", 'No Smoking" and "10 Standing." There were about 25 of us standing by my reckoning, and plenty of spitting.

Here are a few more pictures of Mapusa market (just a few as uploading them is eating up my time in the internet cafe)...

The flower market...

Tuk tuk ride home