In the beginning was the chirp…
I woke up from a restless sleep serenaded by an overly enthusiastic cricket. I did manage to catch some Zs after using the silicone earplugs we packed for the journey. But even these amazing earplugs were no match for the crows that had begun to raise a racket on the tree branches directly above our shack.
“What time is it?” Bianca said groggily.
I looked at my watch. “Five-thirty AM, which means, it’s five-thirty PM back home.”
She groaned.
“Let’s go to the beach and watch the sun rise,” I said. “Then let’s find a spot to have breakfast.”
After a quick shower beneath the palm trees, and the gaze of the frolicking crows, we strolled to the beach to see the fabled sunrise. Unfortunately, we had forgotten that the beach faced west, and so the sunrise wasn’t visible from our vantage point.
I pointed towards the forest behind us.
“That’s east, so the sun will rise near that mountain.”
We decided to scrap our sunrise watching.
“Plan B, as in breakfast,” I said.
We walked along a back alley where a mangy dog and a skinny cow rummaged through garbage in an empty lot. Then along lush avenues overgrown with wild nature. We turned on the main road through the village looking for a cafe or restaurant in which to have something to eat, but we saw only a few signs of activity. We had forgotten that beach towns marched to the tick of a different clock.
“We’re still thinking like city slickers,” I said with a grin.
"Apparently."
We followed the road deeper into the heart of the rustic village.
Then we came across another surprising sight. In one of the alleyways, a white horse leaned against a wall and was trying to chew off a banana leaf from a tree on the other side of the wall. I had seen him on the beach the previous day but hadn’t realized he was just wandering around by himself. His determination with the leaf was impressive.
A small herd of cows wandered through the middle of the road. Their docility and relaxed demeanor filled me with wonder and joy. This animal has religious significance in Hinduism and is thus allowed to roam freely (within limits).
Entering the residential area, I had the strange sensation that I was walking into a different world with its own physical laws. Yet, there was a vague sense of familiarity. Particularly in the architectural motifs, reminiscent of Portuguese colonial aesthetics. I also felt kinship with the psychedelic flags waving like a timeless signal from my groovy predecessors, reminding me of home, and of the long line of mystic explorers who have ventured beyond the confines of their gene-pool and reached for a new cultural dimension.
Isn't this wonderful?
One word: Hallucinogenic
One Side Love
At the end of the road, there was a narrow bridge. The same one we had taken into town the previous day. Below it, a slow moving slough emptied into the ocean. A kayaker came around the bend, rowing through a wild tangle of lily pads and litter.
On the way back, we cut through an alleyway and ended up on somebody’s backyard.
In the distance, some locals signaled to us the right way, and off we went down another circuitous little path until we ended up in the wide expanse of beach called Agonda.
Hanging out with the gang
The sun had risen above the trees. The sand was already warm beneath our naked feet, and soon it would be too hot to step on it. It is quite amazing this ability of ours to perceive temperature variations in our environment. We have many intricate receptors on our skin capable of detecting changes in warm and cold temperatures. These thermoreceptors differ in size, density, and speed of signal transmission. Interestingly, they’re also involved in the perception of pain resulting from a mechanical, thermal, or chemical cause. This is why the idea that a chilli pepper is “hot” is technically correct as similar structures, pathways, and mechanisms are involved in the process of pain and thermal regulation. Capsaizin binds to a receptor called TRPV1, which is also involved in the perception of heat. As tourists, we seek to control the temperatures that our receptor fields are exposed to on a local (e.g., food, drinks, and massage oils) and global(e.g., suntanning, hiking, and swimming) scale. It’s true what they say: no pleasure without pain.
A packs of stray dogs ran up and down the beach alongside joggers. Lolling tongues, the wild creatures ran playfully in the waves.
Fishing boats came and went. The rhythms of life stirring in this mysterious land. In such moments of awareness, one stops being a tourist and peers behind the veil a new experiential reality. The pulse of another culture’s heartbeat in the deceptively simple moments of its existence.
The restaurant shacks lined along the beach began showing signs of activity. Bob Marley’s voice wafted through the air, so we got ourselves a table in a nice spot overlooking the sea.
We ordered some coffee and they brought us two cups of the infamous Nescafe.
“Hows your coffee?” Bianca said.
“It hits the spot.”
I’m a coffee snob and prefer my coffee black without sugar, but when it came to Nescafe, I decided to add a couple of packets and a bit of milk. My neurons reacted with delight.
“I had Nescafe everyday for a year when I lived in Argentina,” Bianca said.
I took a dramatic sip. “You know, this is a damn fine cup of coffee,” I said with an inflection in my voice. “I’ve had many cups of coffee in my life, and this is one of the best.”
“Who’s that?” Bianca asked.
“Agent Cooper. Twin Peaks?”
I took another sip and sat back to enjoy the majesty of this Goan realm. After all the mayhem of the past couple of days, it was good to sit back and drink a simple cup of coffee. Yes, even Nescafe, a bitter brew, which at that moment tasted like an unlimited sense of freedom.
The tapestry of existence is perfect, even if all you have is Nescafe
Mood Music
Natural Mystic By Bob Marley
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Images by @litguru