Monthly Archives: January 2020

On the beach in Karnataka

by

5

For nine years, Agonda in Goa was my beach destination. I loved it and even when the experience began to sour, I denied the undesirable changes and clung to what remained positive (the beach and the friends we’d made there). I don’t always know when to let go.

But now, we’ve found another beach with a long stretch of fine sand and clear water. The big plus for us is that Gokarna is not a tourist destination in the Goa style. There are the regulars that have been coming here for years, older hippie types, and of course, there’s the young Russians. They’re not looking for disco bars and karaoke. The other group of tourists are young Indians who flock here on weekends and don’t venture far up the beach. Huts and small restaurants border the sea front but don’t overwhelm it.

Quintessentially South Indian, Gokarna is a temple town, where pilgrims visit regularly. At the temple entrance, local women sell flowers for offerings.

Our guest house is at the upper end of the main street, where women sell vegetables in the early morning.

It can take twenty minutes to walk through the back lanes and fields but we don’t mind. It’s a good room, comfortable and colorfully painted, and stays cool. It also has a balcony among tall palm trees, just wide enough for my yoga practice (although the lure of the beach often outweighs yoga.)

By chance, I picked up a book left in the guesthouse, called Finding Yourself in the Kitchen, written by an American Buddhist nun. She encourages you to use the kitchen to practice mindfulness and reality acceptance. Right now, I’m enjoying being out of the kitchen, but I file it away to practice when I return. She writes with a levity and lack of self righteousness that encourages me to read what she has to say.

Friends, Marina and Rajiv

We’ve already met up with two couples we first befriended a few years ago in the foothills of the Himalayas. Most mornings we join them for breakfast. Another friend, Oliver, a Belgian living in Devon, England is our senior and has been coming to India for many years. Also an artist, specializing in finely detailed pen and ink drawings. He has not bothered to join the digital revolution not having a cell phone or a computer. When we are back in Boston, he sends us beautiful handwritten letters. It’s amazing that he gets around India without being online.

One morning we met an interesting fellow who was born in Auroville, the community built on the philosophy of Sri Aurobindo in Pondicherry. He left when he was seven, and after forty years, he’s now decided to move back. Over numerous cups of chai, he gave us his insight of the history of Auroville and the community today. We are particularly interested in his story because two good friends of ours now live there. He admitted that Auroville is turning into a retirement community. I was frustrated to miss out on most of what he said, but Gerard filled me in afterward. Still struggling with my hearing loss in crowded restaurants where ceiling fans, clattering dishes and echoing conversation are norms, but I’m still glad to be here.

Gerard had a surprise yesterday. The landlady met him on the stair with a severe look. What have I done now? Then her face broke into a broad smile and she said, Happy Birthday! Later over morning chai I couldn’t help telling our friends it was his birthday, and more well wishes.

In the evening, as we were about to leave for dinner, the landlady presented Gerard with eggless birthday cake.

Our landlady, Anand, and her husband

We sat with her husband and ate a slice. Later, after masala dosas for dinner, our friends treated Gerard to large scoops of rainbow colored ice cream. Not a bad way to celebrate 73. As Gerard has said, in spite of Modi/Trump/Iran/etc, life can be good.

Why India….yet again?

by

17

This year we had to renew our ten year visas and, like most things Indian, dealing with the Embassy’s service bureau ‘Cocks and Kings’, was not straight forward. Discussing the frustrating process of completing the online application with a friend who will join us this year, she said, “If you can’t navigate Cocks and Kings’ lack of a straight line from A to B, then it’s better that you don’t go at all.”

Just before we left, a friend from Boston attended her daughter’s wedding in India. On her return, she asked us how we could tolerate all the dirt, crowds and noise. Gerard gave an answer but didn’t give it a lot of thought. On our flight over, he tried to go into it more deeply, asking my thoughts. We agreed: the country is overcrowded, the air can be terribly polluted and trash is a constant problem, but still we’re drawn here.

A couple of days later in India, we passed a woman sitting on her bed looking out of the doorway from her very basic adobe, tiled-roof house. She gave us a warm smile as we passed. Not knowing what was behind the smile, we felt her readiness to greet strangers so warmly was due to a lack of fear. The less one has that can be stolen, the less there is to fear? Her smiling face brought into focus some of the less obvious reasons why we are still coming back to India.

Gerard commented, even though the subcontinent is racing headlong toward modernity, the old ways can still be seen and inspire, if one looks for them.”

Do we want to change places with the woman? Not really. Yet, her smile helps to explain what has been lost in our modern society and makes us want to reach back and catch hold of what might be worth saving of those old ways. Certainly, the big cities of India have become not so different from their western counterparts. But out in the country, along our way, we can still see the old ways intact. And this is one of the reasons why we return: to witness our lost history still alive to be seen, here and there, in India.

I asked Gerard for an example of these ‘old ways’? He replied, “Certainly one is, human contact. There’s a constant interplay with people even if it’s as simple as buying a cup of chai, soap to wash clothes, or negotiating with the rickshaw driver. Whole Foods decision to install self check-out, further emphasizes the depersonalization of our Western society. With most of India carrying smartphones, means it is happening here as well. Still, there is plenty of social activity on the street, in the market and in the chai shop.”

On the plane over, I saw a short video advertising ‘Exotic India’. And of course it is — the Rajput palaces, the camel fair in Pushkar, the Taj Mahal–but for me it’s more about Endearing than Exotic.