Tomorrow we leave Baga, the city we've been staying in. We'll take an hour long drive to the airport, where we will catch a two hour flight to Delhi.
My feelings towards this adventure, the people, this place, everything has changed since Mumbai. And what's interesting is that a lot of Goans I've talked to that have visited Mumbai hated it as well. I feel like I fit in here, even though nothing could be further from the truth.
We saw Delia's house last night for the first time, very briefly. We then went out with one of her good friends Ferosa, to an Italian restaurant. I didn't know it at first, but Delia picked Italian for me, knowing I don't want Indian food nonstop. She is so incredibly sweet. Last night was the first time I got to speak to her individually, as Lee and Ferosa were learning about how the other got into psychotherapy, since they both practice. All throughout my questioning Delia about what it's like here, her life in general, and herself, she would gently touch my arm or face. It was absolutely the maternal sweetness, pureness that I didn't know I had been missing so much.
No one hugs here. Coming from a family of huggers, this is difficult to wrap my head around. Greeting someone? Handshake. Saying goodbye? Handshake. The end. I asked someone at the beach yesterday why that is, and he couldn't give me an answer. I think it is in part for the sake of modesty, and women not wanting their breasts to touch someone else, so the guy I asked may have been embarrassed to give me an answer. But the men interacting with other men seem much more free. They can stand closer, they can hit one another, they can get the physical touch that people need to cope. I don't know, I can't figure it out, the dynamics of the gender roles in this culture. I'll ask Ali about it, I think he'd try to explain it. Delia talked on and on the other night about how her Indian students are so stiff with their bodies. They don't want to move or break the mold as she talks about it, the plaster that is their body. They just don't seem as comfortable with their bodies as people are back home.
But anyway. I'm sad to say goodbye to this part of the adventure. There have been so many adventures within this adventure, I really can't stop to think about it and instead just have to go with it. Ferosa offered her house to us any time we want to come back, given that she has the space and would love the company, I imagine. She was a hoot and I absolutely would take her up on it. Mumbai I never need to see again.
But Goa, I cannot stand to say goodbye to forever. I have to believe that I will be back here at some point.
And so with that, I say, goodbye Baga, Goa. For now.
My feelings towards this adventure, the people, this place, everything has changed since Mumbai. And what's interesting is that a lot of Goans I've talked to that have visited Mumbai hated it as well. I feel like I fit in here, even though nothing could be further from the truth.
We saw Delia's house last night for the first time, very briefly. We then went out with one of her good friends Ferosa, to an Italian restaurant. I didn't know it at first, but Delia picked Italian for me, knowing I don't want Indian food nonstop. She is so incredibly sweet. Last night was the first time I got to speak to her individually, as Lee and Ferosa were learning about how the other got into psychotherapy, since they both practice. All throughout my questioning Delia about what it's like here, her life in general, and herself, she would gently touch my arm or face. It was absolutely the maternal sweetness, pureness that I didn't know I had been missing so much.
No one hugs here. Coming from a family of huggers, this is difficult to wrap my head around. Greeting someone? Handshake. Saying goodbye? Handshake. The end. I asked someone at the beach yesterday why that is, and he couldn't give me an answer. I think it is in part for the sake of modesty, and women not wanting their breasts to touch someone else, so the guy I asked may have been embarrassed to give me an answer. But the men interacting with other men seem much more free. They can stand closer, they can hit one another, they can get the physical touch that people need to cope. I don't know, I can't figure it out, the dynamics of the gender roles in this culture. I'll ask Ali about it, I think he'd try to explain it. Delia talked on and on the other night about how her Indian students are so stiff with their bodies. They don't want to move or break the mold as she talks about it, the plaster that is their body. They just don't seem as comfortable with their bodies as people are back home.
But anyway. I'm sad to say goodbye to this part of the adventure. There have been so many adventures within this adventure, I really can't stop to think about it and instead just have to go with it. Ferosa offered her house to us any time we want to come back, given that she has the space and would love the company, I imagine. She was a hoot and I absolutely would take her up on it. Mumbai I never need to see again.
But Goa, I cannot stand to say goodbye to forever. I have to believe that I will be back here at some point.
And so with that, I say, goodbye Baga, Goa. For now.
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