Last night after celebrating my yoga teacher Alkilesh's birthday with some chai and a bad american movie about global warming (The Day after tomorrow), Jake and I stumbled upon traditional Goan theatre right by our guest house. Apparently once a year lots of lights are put up, tons of alcohol is consumed, and loud music and drums are played while very "interesting" actors sing and dance on stage (including a man dressed in a sari with an umbrella). We arrived a bit past midnight and apparently the festivities last until after 3am. It was a madhouse! Hundreds of people, everyone kind of loopy, and everything was in Goan. It was pretty refreshing to see something traditional to Goa as opposed to a ton of raving Europeans.
I also got hit in the face by a bird today. I was riding on the back of a motorbike with my ayurvedic doctor and a bird literally flew into my face. The bird was fine and I was a bit shocked, but I'm sure for any bystanders it must have been hysterical. All I could do was laugh. I also got headbutted by a cow! Apparently you're not supposed to get in their way when they're walking. I was busy talking to one of the shopowners, and I didn't notice the group of cows headed in my direction. One of them decided to put me in my place (as a lowly human, I guess) and snorted in my direction, hitting my tote bag with his head. Oy, now I really know who is boss!
But to continue on with the last post which went on a lot longer than I intended... And get ready because the anthro/sociology major in me is really coming out now... Something else I've been thinking A LOT about since arriving in India, but particularly in Goa, is race and skin color. In America, whiteness if often considered the absence of race, something superior, but not spoken about. With the exception of some anthropology classes on whiteness or workshops on white allies at Vassar, being white in America is a privilege that in my experience is rarely deconstructed (that's right, I said it. I might also use the word "normative" or "patriarchy" somewhere in here). Here in India (or at least where I've been, and especially in Goa), whiteness is a whole new ball game. It's incredibly wrapped up in money, yes, and the West, yes. But it's so blatant, so out there. Women touching my skin, telling me that I'm so white and it's beautiful. I almost feel exoticized here! Though it's definitely different than the exocitzations of people of color back home. Here, being white is still a privilege, but I've never been so physically aware of my white skin. Also, to be a minority and in a privileged position is very new for me. It's tied up in so much history, money, class, and (of course) colonialism, factors that go way beyond me being dragged into some woman's store while she tells me my blonde hair, white skin, and green eyes are beautiful. But still, it's really incredible how I'm beginning to really see (in a different way than in America) how much history weaves its way into my present reality. Can't even get away from it in Goa...
Moving on from the shopkeepers- something else that has come up often, but neither Jake nor I have written about are the beggers. When I would tell people I was going to India, one of the most common things people would tell me (besides don't drink the water) is "don't you know how much poverty is there?" Yes. There is a ton of poverty in India. There's a growing middle class that is buying cars without knowing how to drive them (see NY Times article) but there are also people who live in tents on a highway divider, or in small huts in the middle of nowhere. Beggers are everywhere, and they are heartbreaking, but at the same time I have not given a single rupee out. Perhaps it was because I was told many times that children who beg don't get to keep the money, or perhaps it's a hardness that I've managed to develop from living for short periods in new york city (I'm still surprised as to how much NYC prepared me for traveling in India, from the crowds to the smells to homeless people). Women (almost always carrying babies) and/or children will walk up to you, say hello and hold out their hands. Children will put their hands up to their mouths motioning for food. Sometimes they'll grab your feet, your legs (from open windows on the bus), or once in Jake's case, they'll chase you with a whip and grab your ankles. I've tried to give kids candy or fruits (like someone once told me would be a better option than giving a rupee), but my offering was turned down. I'm still trying to figure out the best way to respond to beggers. I don't want to yell at them, I don't want to ignore them, but at the same time, gently turning one down will encourage them to follow you for awhile. It's still something I'm trying to grapple with and figure out. I'm not trying to justify my behavior (in that I don't give money out), but it's what works for me right now, and I'm still trying to figure out how I can function in this country, learn, receive, and at the same time give back. At least we've got a while to try and figure that out.
Okay, on with the day... After yoga class number one, I take a ride back to the house (from my favorite motor taxi driver Sandeep!) and Jake makes delicious parathas (today was peanutbutter and jaggery- a type of raw sugarcane product that's really good for you). We'll either go to the beach, run errands, or sit in German Bakery, a place that is in none of the guidebooks, but is so good that it must be in the "friends of Lonely planet" book. Delicious health food, everything freshly washed in filtered water, salads!, ice!, beetroot juice!, and cheap prices! Also, a very chilled out atmosphere with great music (ie: not goa trance), which is a plus. Then we'll figure out what we want for dinner, go to the local veggie stand (we're regulars there, and they always toss us some free chillis for giving them so much business!), do dinner prep (i'm the sous chef, I suppose), and then walk to 4pm ashtanga asana practice. With all of this yoga I hurt my knee a little bit, so I've also been regularly going to see an ayurvedic doctor who has a clinic across the road from where I practice. He gives me acupressure, herbal tea, a plaster to put on my knee, heat therapy, and various other therapies, and it costs basically nothing. After watching Sicko on the plane ride here, I'm amazed at how cheap healthcare is here in India. Things that would costs 50-60 us dollars cost 5-6 us dollars here. And it's good treatment! My knee feels incredible, and now I'm jumping and doing handstands galore. Practicing yoga 5 1/2 hours a day is really intense, but I feel myself getting so much stronger, it's almost like I'm an athlete again! (Hard to believe but I was a varsity volleyball player and club soccer player for most of my life until the middle of high school). My ashtanga teacher, Santosh, is fantastic, and when we're not all laughing (which is really good to do during the practice!), we're doing sun salutations, lots of holding postures, or talking philosophy...
After the evening class, I'll get home in time for an amazing dinner (last night was guacamole with pineapple, an okra subjee with papya, chapati and rice) and then we'll either see music, check internet, watch a movie, or I'll pass out. It's really really nice to be in a routine. I'm sad I'm in yoga class during the sunset every day, but I do get to see the sunrise, and Wednesdays are my day off (the day of the crazy Anjuna market!) so I get to help cook and sleep in. Just a couple more weeks of this, and then on to Bangalore for classical dance fest, Hampi, Mysore, Kerala, the tip of the subcontinent, and I'm going up to Delhi to see Shruti (my dear dear friend from Vassar) while Jake will probably WWOOF around Bangalore. Plans are coming together, but like I said, for now it's really nice to be in one place for awhile.
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