Me and my sari
Esther:

Angelo and I had a busy, fast-paced and successful day at the weekly Wednesday Anjuna market. We took a bus ride of about an hour and a half to the northern beach in Anjuna. This market is located on the ridge overlooking the Arabian Sea in a huge open field. The amount of merchandise in this market is overwhelming. It's like an outdoor carnival of materials of all kinds, foods of all sorts, musical instruments and jewelry beyond your imagination. We initially went merely for the spectacle, as it is a 'must see' within the state of Goa. Though, the sari was calling my name and I tempted my desire to look at and then try one on.

We lucked out with a shop-keeping couple who were very excited about the prospect of selling a sari to a Westerner. I seemed to have attracted a small crowd as they were in the wrapping up of me. They were incredibly patient and courteous helping me put the sari on. I guess I should describe the fabric as it's hard to understand the art of it unless you can picture it yourself. It is one very long rectangular silk piece that is rather weighty. It is first knotted around the waist, then pleated and tucked into the waist and then the remainder is wrapped around the torso to achieve various styles. Once I was in, I knew this was it! I absolutely feel elegant and regal in it. It's red with gold embroidery with blue and white stitching. Lovely!

So many more markets to come....

Anjuna reminded us that Benaulim is the best beach of all. I think we're quite pleased with our digs, as we have often mentioned previously.
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Devil Hero
Angelo:

On Sunday I rented a bicycle. The name on the bike was Devil Hero. I didn't feel much like a Devil or a Hero plodding along on the 75-pound single-speed clunker, but it was fun to push the pedals and explore the area around Benaulim a little bit; little meandering, (though inexplicably paved), roads shaded by luscious palm trees that all seem to end up on the beach sooner or later.

Some of the locals are harvesting their rice crops, boiling off the husks in large pots over open fires then leaving them out to dry in the sun on reed mats.

We saw a Toddy-tapper this morning, a fellow who nimbly climbs the top of coconut trees to tap them for the sap which is later fermented into a kind of alcoholic concoction for local consumption.

Tomorrow we're heading up the coast to Anjuna, famous for its burned-out hippie scene (since turned young Israeli raver scene), and Flea Market. Rumour has it we can also get a real cup of brewed coffee there; up until this point we've endured various types of weak instant mixed with hot buffalo milk.
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A Fine Balance
Esther:
I couldn't have chosen a better read for India in choosing "A Fine Balance" by Rohinton Mistry. I ate up this nearly 800 page novel within a 4 day span, completely, whole-heartedly and overwhelmingly with emotion. I don't know how to convey to you how incredible this book is. I know it is definitely giving my favorite book, "In the Skin of a Lion" by Michael Ondaatje a good run for its money.
This book captures that which we are seeing daily in India. No, not so much on the beach, but certainly when we were in Bombay and what we can expect to see more of upon our departure from Goa. It takes place in the mid 1970's, mostly within the City (which I am guessing is Bombay) with a inter-woven story of four very distinct individuals, coming from a Village and Town and the City. There is so much within it that colours a picture of life here, that when I have been confused or frustrated by something that I encounter, these pages have provided clarity for it.
There is a significant quote in it that sums up the purpose of the book and truly, life in India:

"Sometimes you have to use your failures as stepping-stones to success. You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair."

If any of you care to feel what it is that we are seeing daily, whether it be beggars of all sorts, men,women and children under caste regimes, or those that appear 'normal', but have had marriages of arrangement or fought for independance from it, this encapsulates it completely. Take a read and eat it up!

I am nearly drawn to tears thinking about it now.

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Day Trip
Angelo:

Esther woke up this morning with a novel idea: get off of our lazy asses and actually see some of the amazing sites in and around Goa. Some of our traveling companions at Benaulim haven't moved for five weeks, so we think we're still relatively intrepid.

We decided to strike out for Old Goa, a deserted Portuguese colonial city that was once said to rival Lisbon in magnificent architecture.

Two dollars and three busses later, (surprisingly efficient by Indian standards), we were walking around the ancient ruins of what used to be the capital of the state of Goa, (since moved to Panjim on the Mandovi River, from where we're writing this). The cathedrals were not unlike many Colonial era Catholic cathedrals. Several of them are still operating, mainly for holidays and religious festivals. However, the one that was, in our humble opinion, the most interesting was the Convent and Church of St. Francis of Assisi, which was completely abandoned creating a very eerie setting. The floor was paved with long engraved stones, and some Indian told us there was a person buried under each one.

Another highlight, perhaps even more eerie, was the glass sarcophagus of St. Francis Xavier, (dead since 1552), which is housed in the Basilica of Bom Jesus. Once every decade his remains are brought down from the ornate pedestal upon which they rest for parishioners to pay homage to.

The Portuguese only left Goa in 1961, and Panjim feels awfully European as a result. Narrow streets, low colourful plaster buildings, ornate wooden doors, and, of course, the Catholic influence, crosses and Virgins, everywhere.
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It figures
Esther:

Things to figure out in India:
1. The wagging of the head back and forth versus nodding front to back. This is regular body language that we have come to recognize doesn't refer to, "Maybe". Rather it indicates, "Yes, if that pleases you". This response infers that if we're wrong, they are not going to let us in on it. This gesture looks quite silly when done, but has turned out to be amusing to us. Some folks do it incessantly, like we would in Canada by saying, "Yah" or "Mm..mm.."

2. That cows are allowed (if not encouraged) to be anywhere. We saw a few in Bombay, on the busy street, with traffic. We often encounter some on the beach, like they are declaring a day of sun-worship as well. And, regularly, they are herded into traffic that buzzes by and get the immediate right of way.

3. That men regularly touch other men as a sign of acceptance and friendship. Angelo gets more fondling than me! Men walk hand in hand, as friends, whereas women do not. We think that the more Angelo is touched, the more we are their allies!

4. That traffic flows British-style. This means that they drive on the left side of the street, generally speaking. The driving rules are truly, 'anything goes'. This makes for confusion on our parts, as we are typically trying to analyze things into common sense or logic.


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Benaulim Beach
Angelo:

Esther recently wrote that Benaulim Beach was among her top five beaches of all time. I'm here to make the case that it may well be the best beach full stop. In her defence, I think she was referring to the pure elements that make up a beach: water, sand, weather. And Benaulim, on the Arabian Sea, does not have the crystalline water of say, Kata Noi in Thailand, or the powdery soft sand of Playa Del Carmen. However, if you take into account the peripheral factors of: accommodations, food, services, cost...as well as any number of others, Benaulim Beach rises to the top spot, (in my humble opinion).

Our room, (Rosario's Guesthouse), is a comfortable large room with private bathroom, ceiling fan, immaculately clean, and a comfortable balcony with table and chairs overlooking a lovely little restaurant and bar, quietly tucked away a few hundred meters from the sleepy town, all for under $8 CAN.

On the beach we've been catered to hand and foot, while chilling under an umbrella and reclining on a lounger, by the capable staff of Coco's Restaurant and Bar. They have a wonderful, eclectic menu, loads of vegetarian options, and our daily bill comes out to about $ 3 CAN.

If you get sick of sitting around, eating fabulous international cuisine, or drinking the local beer, (you have two choices, a pilsner or a lager, however each are about fifty cents a piece), you can take a stroll or a jog along the fifteen, relatively unpopulated kilometers of beach.

And I don't want my earlier comments to diminish the quality of the sand itself, which is oatmeal in colour and roughly like baking powder in texture, or the water for that matter, which is deep green and generally placid until late afternoon when a fresh breeze comes in off the sea.

Idyllic? I should say so.


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Slow Train to Goa
Esther:

There seems to be this niggling thought in my mind as to what sort of expectations we need to be setting up with this blog. Really, it's a group of questions like: 'If we write every day, then will the readership expect one each day?' And along those lines, 'If we don't write every day, will our parents think we're lost amongst the populous?' or, 'If we write every day, will our friends think we're rotting in a variety of internet cafes and forgetting about the sights?' Whatever the case, there should be little expectation from us both, it's merely fun to do and we don't want to be a bore.

Anyway, Bombay came to a quick end as we headed out to Goa yesterday morning. This came as a result of many things, though mostly because we toured and saw what we wanted in Bombay within 2 days. We also couldn't snag train tickets for the evening train south, so we headed out on the day train, earlier than initially planned.

Bombay has some incredible buildings to see, though the constant burping of traffic got on the nerves. I found the horns especially draining. I know we spoke of the traffic and children before, so imagine more of the like within the next day. I did quite enjoy the walk we took from Colaba area, after the Gateway to India towards the Fort Area as the colonial architechture was large, ornate and a wonderful contrast to the bustling around it. The walk also included leaving the swarm of beggars in the 'tourist area' and we really got a feel for the 'business district' of the city. The end of our walk led to the most impressive building, the Victoria Terminus train station.

The train was everything that I had hoped for in my daydreams about India. It moved slowly, but certainly through the largest slums of Southeast Asia finally leaving the city towards the insides of the Deccan Plateau. It blended the countryside into beautiful pictures in my mind. For example: a shepherd with his flock of goats, or lush green rice paddys full of water to grow and small clusters of black, long-horned cows (which look more like water buffalo) roving freely.

The train itself was much like our train in Thailand. We had a 2nd class, 3 tier sleeper berth which was quite roomy with only four tourists assigned to it. We did not purchase air con and that proved to be great as the windows were open and 'fresh' air was gusting through. This trip to Goa was 11 1/2 hours in duration.

Many things to talk about within the trip itself, but Goa is proving to be far more interesting.

Benaulim Beach is in South Goa and honestly is in my top 5 beaches to date. That's a highly esteemed list, mind you. It is on the Arabian Sea on the West side of India and quite remote from most other beach destinations along the coast. This will prove to be our 'home' for an undisclosed amount of time. We landed at a wonderful place called Rosario's Inn and Restaurant. It has a mellow vibe of travellers from all over. The cost for this room is 300 Rupees = $7.90 Canadian. We have a balcony overlooking the palm-fringed scene and a short distance from the beach. No worries.

We will be chilling out for some time, so our posts may be infrequent and less colourful. I did make no promises, remember? We also see this time as a 'refresher' for the future, so every moment is sacred.


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Bombay
Angelo:

We left our quaint little hotel in Singapore before dawn this morning, sad to leave our gracious and accommodating hosts, who, every time we made even the briefest eye-contact were ready with a, "Yes?"

Our approach to Bombay had us flying low over the gorgeous Deccan Plateau, and I was awed at the exoticism of the red cliffs and sharp sandstone peaks, looking for all the world like something straight out of an Indiana Jones movie.

Our transition from ultra-modern Singapore to Bombay is an exercise in contrast. Immediately upon exiting the airport we were faced with a red-dirt taxi queue and a throng of touts (guys who try to rope you into a friend's hotel, or just to hit you up for a Rupee or two), and drivers, (hard to tell the difference between the two for the most part). The taxi itself looked more like some sort of Medieval torture device or ancient carnival ride than a car. The back seat, which Esther and I barely squeezed into, slid forward disconcertingly every time the driver hit the brakes.

The car horn, here, is an essential device, and is employed for the duration of the journey almost without respite. Esther and I were trying to decipher the various meanings of the sounding horn, and decided it can mean, "Coming through," "I'm right behind you," "I'm going to pass," "You're free to pass,"...actually it can mean just about any thing under the sun. Kind of like the word 'fuggetaboutit' in Mafia movies.

Getting to our hotel of choice, Bentley's, was a bit of an adventure, as well-meaning touts ran alongside our taxi shouting directions to the driver, trying to convince us to stay elsewhere all the while.

When we finally crashed in our spartan but clean and fragrant (thanks to the burning incense) room, we were pretty well beat, and it was only 1:15PM, (though we had another 2.5-hour time change).

After a cold shower we struck out to the squalid waterfront and took in the gorgeous 'Gateway of India,' erected in honour of the first visit of some queen of England or other.

We've been accosted by all manner of person looking to score a Rupee or two, and most are rather easy (on the conscience) to turn away. However, it is the low caste children (easily recognized by their bare feet) that cause the heart to break. When they look up at you with those dark, wet eyes, and the longest eyelashes you've ever seen, saying, "Sir, Madame, help me if you please," it feels like a crime to turn them away.

Esther quickly discovered a way to win their hearts when she handed one little saint half a bag of M&Ms. He looked up at her and smiled, "May the gods bless you, Madame." After that we hit the nearest hole-in-the-wall shop to buy some candy.
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Farewell, Singapore
Esther:

Well, I am certain in saying that Angelo and I have seen Singapore in its entirety. Yesterday, we strapped on our sandals and headed north to Fort Canning Park and then to Little India to get our taste of what we're in for.

Fort Canning Park turned out to be a wonderful find as it's a park on top of the only significant hill above Singapore. Several centuries of Malay kings built their palaces upon this hill overlooking the port of activity coming in from the Sea. There was a tropical forest covering the old site, including a botanical garden and spice garden. It was fun, invigorating and lovely to experience despite being in the middle of a happening city.

Onto Little India...
We found our palates tingled again with a buffet of Indian food. It wasn't as much of a culturally rich experience as the Arab Street cafe, though tasty nonetheless. The fact that we can order 'vegetarian' and get such a feast is a wonder to us. Sometimes we wonder if there is meat at all in this country that we are about to enter.

Our techno fun came today in riding the transit system titled MRT. It is both underneath and over ground covering the entire island swiftly and effortlessly. The best part about this transit system is the reptile effect it has as it is one continuous compartment versus several units, like our Skytrain in BC. This creates the strange illusion of being inside the belly of a snake as you can see it rounding curves ahead of you. On this MRT, we saw that most Singaporeans live in modern and attractive apartment complexes. This leaves for a vast amount of green space within the tall buildings, creating a luscious carpet of tropical island feel.

Tomorrow marks our sad departure from here and onto a new (and completely different) cultural experience in Mumbai (Bombay), India. This is it! I have had moments of small sorrow realizing that all too soon this dream will be realized and over. Strange isn't it? I think this is merely my emotion catching up to my reality of dreaming and planning and now... it's here.

Back to reality and treating my blistering feet. Yep, it's upon me again for those of you who know my feet and travel in heat. This time, I am discovering the joy of moleskin. Hmmm, thanks Dad for these nasty feets. It's not as bad as other times, though they certainly speak to our miles traveled thus far. Personally, a triumph.

Until India! Yipee!
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Angelo:

Singapore has continued to delight and surprise.

We crashed early last night, 10:30 local time, after jostling around the crowded Chinatown bazaars for most of the evening. Because we're still jet-lagged we woke just before dawn and walked around the empty streets. Mornings are a great time to see the routine of the local folk, and in one urban park we were treated to a group of seniors doing Tai Chi. Their grace at such an advanced age was profoundly beautiful against the rising sun and the gigantic tropical trees of the tiny park.

After a quick breakfast at our hotel we struck out for the day, heading up Telok Ayer Street, formerly a row of shophouses and the place where the first settlers landed, and visited an incredibly ornate Buddhist temple called Thian Hock Keng where the main attraction was a group of Singaporean children on a field trip.

From there we headed north across the backbone of the city, the Singapore River, to take in the impressive towers of the business district and gorgeous waterfront. Sites are too numerous to mention.

A highlight was the Muslim district known as Arab Street, where a cheerful boy and what appeared to be his mother, served us a veritable vegetarian feast. Of the several dishes served, the most tasty consisted of roasted shredded coconut, peppers and green beans, though the deep-fried tofu and potato dumplings weren't bad either. All of this and iced chrysanthemum tea for $6.70 CAN.

After eight hours of steady walking and fell into our bed at around three this afternoon to read and nap and just chill out.
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Singapore
Angelo:
We arrived in Singapore at 11:30 AM local time, (don't ask me to try and figure out what that means to those of you at home). We're staying at a great little place in the heart of Chinatown, and spent the afternoon wandering its narrow alleys, and sat out a tropical rainstorm at a street-side food vendor sampling some wonderful deepfried local fare.

It's hot and humid, a shock to the system after a particularly cold winter in first Winnipeg, then lately in BC.

Neither one of us had any expectations for this leg of the journey and considered Singapore a place to break up the 23-hour trip from Vancouver to Mumbai. However, we've been loving it. The tropical vegataion is spectacular -- orchids and mandarines growing in the street -- and the people are generous and friendly to the point of becoming over-bearing. The markets are frenetic explosions of colour and sound, perhaps more so in anticipation of Chinese New Year next month. Bizarre sausage stalls with dried ducks hanging from wooden racks by their bills, are ubiquitous, for some reason.

We've got a full three days here before our 5-hour flight to Mubmai on Sunday. And, by the way things are looking at the moment, we'll relish every one of them.
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Airport Marathon
We couldn't resist the temptation to post from the free web access in the new International Airport in Hong Kong. Taking a brisk walk under its high, silver, skylit ceilings was a real treat after 14 straight hours in a packed airplane, (not to mention enjoying a Starbucks coffee as we type this). Brief stopover here to clean the plane and refuel, then on to Singapore where we'll stop for three days of R & R.


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Departure Day
Esther writing:

Today is the day! The feeling of waking up and knowing it's the last sleep that I am going to have under my own covers just gets me terribly excited. I also feel the strange sensation of cherishing every moment of our bathroom and it's amenities, our space, our computer, our music and definitely our food. This often happens previous to departure day within the last week and I find that I often eat more and stay in more because of it. Well, that has come to a close and I am thrilled about leaving for the Vancouver airport within the next three hours.

Our packs are set up and feeling decent. There are always the last minute debates that Angelo and I have: Sneakers or not? Sandals should be ample for the excursions we are planning on, right? Then, how many films is enough? I personally think there is never enough and worry about whether or not I'll find the right ones if we run out that are not expired already, or exposed for that matter. This time, I think 45+ rolls will be ample - 8 Black & White and 30+ others of varied kinds - to cover all the bases, you know. My pack is about 20 pounds and then I have my camera and small carry-on pack. Angelo's is looking about 20ish pounds and a small carry-on as well. It is said that one should only carry half of the clothing that they need to Mumbai (Bombay) and then purchase what is needed for the trip there as it is cheap and also much more fitting to the lovely temperature. So, that's what we'll do! I may be sari-ed up within a week! Bring it on!

Great big thanks and kisses to those of you who have made the effort to call and wish us your love. It feels fantastic to be sent off with so much joy and peer anticipation. I can't thank you enough for your support and grace of us (Moms and Dads) within this whole process of letting go of all that is familiar, safe and certain.

Well, I should be checking that pack and going over if there is enough gravol for the 19 1/2 hour leg between San Francisco and Singapore. Hmmm, don't really want to think about that leg of the flight until after the fact.

We'll arrive in Singapore by January 7th and make blog there!
Until Asia,
Esther
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