Living Among Animals

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by Michael Golding


I’ve talked about how much I enjoy living outside when we travel and especially in Goa. Our room opens on to a small balcony where we eat breakfast and lunch. At night we sleep under an open window – a cool breeze off the ocean blowing in.   And the sound of the animals – bulls snorting, pigs grunting. Night and day, we are surround by animals.

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by Michael Golding

Each morning pigs appear out of the bush to eat our breakfast scraps, competing with a squadron of militant crows with their annoying squawk that drowns out other delicate bird songs.

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Monkeys swing down from guava trees, startling us in our path. Rita’s given up trying to protect the fruit.

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The one-eyed cat wanders through the garden around noontime. A persistent cow blocks the entrance to the banana lady’s shop.

Brahma bulls with horns erect stand in contemplation on the beach.

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by Michael Golding

Dogs imitate tourists – splashing in the waves, sprawled on empty sunbeds…

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by Michael Golding

…watching the sunset.

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by Michael Golding

At night, they adjourn to the restaurants and sit beside us waiting for handouts Motionless geckos wait patiently for their prey next to the light bulb

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by Michael Golding

They are in our midst and we are in theirs.

india  2011 jpg (89)And then the bell tolls and it’s time to leave Agonda. On our last night as we go for dinner with Michael, it seems almost everyone we’ve befriended is out on the street to say goodbye. Hugs from fellow tourists – Jen and Tony from England, Peter the talented violinist and his wife from Switzerland, Krystyna and her 88-year-old mother from Poland. The Indian shopkeepers, Geeta and later up the road Lakshmi, step outside their cultural boundaries and also hug me. Last of all, the banana lady waves from behind her mountain of bananas, papaya and melons…the persistent cow stops for a moment to give us her final appraisal. Harder still is to say goodbye to our new friend Michael who kept us laughing for the full six weeks.

Why does it seem easier to make friends here? Over morning chai we spend hours talking, sharing experiences and stories. From different countries, cultures and political environments, learning what our Russian friends think of Putin and the fighting in the Ukraine, and to hear their perspective of the US role in world politics. More enlightening than what CNN serves up. And how much better the Russian version of Dr Zhivago is than the old British version we’re so familiar with in the west.

There is plenty of time to get to know each other, no one has to rush off to work, take care of their families and so on. At the same time there’s an element of urgency. A stay may be only a week or as much as four months, but no one is here forever. If you have something to say or do, best hurry up and do it.  But there’s always next season – God willing.

Maha Shivarati in Ujjain

DSC_0439Ujjain was another three bus rides away, and once again took the best part of the day to reach. More remote dry and dusty places Gerard’s discovered! A religious destination with many temples along the river, and where Kumbh Mela is held every 12 years.  The town was significantly bigger and much more crowded than Maheshwar.

I had found a hotel on the internet, which seemed a little too far out of town, but had rooms available. The hotel was large with three stories of rooms.  Our “standard” non/AC on the ground floor had no room to swing a cat, and only marginally acceptable in terms of cleanliness. The whole place was newly painted periwinkle blue and white giving it a fresh deceptively Mediterranean look. In the center was a large lawn where the hotel restaurant, which was pure veg, served dinner at night. The best feature of the hotel, and one of the highlights of entire stay, was the exceptional food this hotel served up. The guidebook had warned us, that food in Ujjain was “thin on the ground!” That was true, our restaurant seemed to have no competition.

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Being on the edge of town turned out to be our good fortune because we soon learned the festival we had just left was not isolated to Maheshwar. According to Wikipedia, Maha Shivarati is a Hindu festival celebrated every year in reverence of Lord Shiva. The “Night of Worship” occurs on the 14th night of the new moon during the dark half of the month of Phalguna (Feb/March), and is when Shiva, The Lord of Destruction, is said to have performed the Tandava Nritya or the dance of primordial creation, preservation and destruction.

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The festival continues through the following day. It also marks the last day of Khumbh Mela, although it was not celebrated in Ujjain this year. (Held every four years, the location changes among several holy cities.  We passed through Haridwar when four years ago Kumbh Mela was held there. Memorable – but we didn’t stick around.)

DSC_0421Back in Ujjain, the place was jumping! We gave up trying to enter the main temple and pushed through the throng of pilgrims and visitors to the ghat where it was even more crowded. If this is just Shivarati Maha, thank God we weren’t here for Kumbh Mela!

Ujjain is supposed to be especially atmospheric at dusk when the temples rising above the ghat are majestic and ringing bells and incense fill the air. But on that day it was too crazy for us to wait and find out. A few hours were enough before we retreated back to the hotel and another meal. We’re definitely feeling our age! Throughout our brief two-day stay in Ujjain, amongst the tens of thousands of people, we didn’t see a single other western tourist. The only English spoken was by our waiter, and even that was touch and go! And as far as returning to Ujjain – been there and done it!

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The following day we took the SLOW train to Varanasi. It meandered through the countryside stopping frequently at little stations with picket fences. All in all, a scheduled 40 stops over a 28 hour journey! Most of the train is sleeper class and there is no pantry car. A polite gentleman begins a conversation in halting English with me. He says he is a railway servant. Then when I’m lamenting the fact there is no pantry car, he asks if we like chai? Our response is obvious. At the next stop he beckons us to follow him to the platform.  A man holding a tray with little decorated china cups and a large metal thermos is waiting. He pours tea for the man and his friends, including us.  Sugar is offered to our liking in a separate bowl. Obviously this man is an important “railway servant.”  We stand in the early morning sunlight on this pretty country platform sipping tea from cups that I immediately want to purchase and bring back to the US. Another golden moment in India!  The man alights at the next station – to my disappointment.  I’d already begun to anticipate lunch!