Goa, going, gone

April 6th, 2012

Dear Goa,

So long and thanks for all the fish. I'll always remember your laid back, charismatic lifestyle and the times we shared. Laughing, lounging, soaking the sun... It was so nice and relaxing, I don't know how I could have done it without you. You were such a wonderful catalyst for making new friends. I had no idea an American, a German, a Russian, two Brits and two Scotsman could share company for a week and NOT talk about politics.

I also want to thank you for your bountiful gifts of fresh fruits, fresh veggies, fresh juices, the freshy fresh market, the fresh smiles, fresh sheets at the guesthouse (such a nice daily treat), fresh sunburns, fresh flowers, fresh dried fish...? and the aforementioned fresh seafood. Oh gosh, stop me my friend!

Oh and cricket! You taught me about cricket! What a wild game, I mean, in that highly competitive, somewhat sophisticated way. I'll never release the memory of cheap Budweiser and cricket matches into the morning hours. Or how about the lovely karaoke session we shared!? Just delightful.
I do hope you heed my small advice and clean yourself more. The ill placed rubbish that surrounds your beautiful ocean eyes is dreadful. I know, I know we discussed it. And I don't want to seem brash towards you in the least. But push harder towards your recycling program, educate those who don't know and maybe in time a new shift will begin. You never know til you try! So try my dear!

Ok, I'll rest my pen now. Take care Goa, land of relaxment, land of blissed outness. Until we meet again.

Your traveling friend,
Rev. N.R. Meloney

ps. - I think you have my shorts.

Mumbai baby

We arrived in Mumbai by train, a whooping 19.5 hours after departing the quiet and serene lakeside village of Pushkar. Excitement and a pinch of fear for the unknown awaited. This city of 16 million plus was quick to show us its underbelly. A blast of sweltering heat and humidity immediately shocked the skin. Morning rush hour traffic screamed in an orchestra of horns and engine noise, overwhelming the ears. Exhaust fumes stinging my nostrils. My eyes were pulled in a thousand directions trying to absorb my first glimpse of this metro monster... This country mouse will always visit a city, but never live there. All in all, we had an interesting two hour taxi ride that introduced us to more of the city than we wished to see at that early hour. But we landed at our sea shore hotel safe and with a good tale to tell.
Mumbai is a huge city. Approximately 30 miles long by 10 miles wide. It spreads its arms across the western coast of central India being one part sand, two parts port and four handfuls of garbage. The city is a fusion of chic metro fashion, preserved Indian culture, crumbling English architecture, auto rickshaws and taxis, high end lifestyle and absolute poverty. And it's all amazing.
History IS Mumbai. You can feel it walking down the old, broad city streets. The huge overgrown trees that line the way have stories only they know. Palaces and forts have been converted to beautiful museums and fancy dining establishments. With all the spit and polish of the posh comes the opposite as well. People are poor. They have no chance of growing or farming in a concrete city. They struggle to make money for a meal, offering to polish your flip flops for two rupees, or using their soiled children to guilt you into giving money. Renouncing worldly possessions and material objects, these are the people whom Ghandi connected with the most. The people who still welcomed and lived life while looking into the face of hardship.
Old or new, dark or light, rich or poor, it's all part of the far out landscape of Mumbai baby.

Mumbai at a closer look