Red Flag

10 March 2011

So, yesterday did turn out to be a better day.

It was a good first day – at least up to the yoga class. My first teacher-led Vinyasa Flow class was actually amazing. And the energy in the room was simply intoxicating. I was literally floating home feeling so invigorated……

But when you’re on a high like that it is only a matter of time until something or somebody bursts that bubble and crash down to earth.

When I got to my room I was in for a shock: all my clothes and all my stuff had disappeared!!!

I couldn’t believe my eyes: all my things had been moved and put away and been unpacked and stored. And guess where? Into the spider-infested wardrobe and chest of drawers and cupboards. I sooooo wanted to scream and cry and stomp my feet and everything at the same time. OMG!!!! People!!! Why do you think I hadn’t put anything away??? Huh???? (I know this initial reaction seems a bit over the top but I really do despise spiders and the likes from the bottom of my heart.)

Oh, and did I mention that I share my “barn room” with several types of spiders and other weird crawling insects, including cockroaches???

Well, I wasn’t sure why people had done this although I did take a wild guess: considering that they probably did not have a clue as to how I felt about my little multiple-legged fellow lodgers - they only meant well – I’ve decided. Though I wasn’t sure whether it was expected of me to leave a tip for that. But still, as much as I knew that my reaction was quite ridiculous my indignation did not evaporate as quickly as it may have been wishful for I stormed out of my room to the reception and made it absolutely clear to the lady of the house that none of my stuff/clothes/shoes be touched but rather should be left hanging/lying around in that orderly manner of mine.

Apart from having made a bad impression already upon my arrival – they now must have thought that I may have completely lost. Red-curly-haired monster!

[Oh dear! I so need to learn how to RELAX! It slowly dawns on me that it is not a place I need to find to relax in but rather I need to relax in myself, in my mind….]

Maybe the Goans are fed up with all the foreigners – all the white ones – who look like they have got a lot of money but in the end don’t want to give them anything. But really: …if I had had a lot of money and wasn’t on a budget I would have given them all my money really….

So, after putting everything back where I had wanted it, I finally made it to the beach J in the afternoon and this is what I had in mind: white sand, palm trees reaching over the beach and almost nipping into the waves, a light breeze and peace and quiet. Well, I must have mistaken this for Thailand because what I’ve found was nothing like I had imagined. L

And what a nightmare it was. Firstly, I found out that you should never trust a Goan! It’s not that they are vicious people but they are too embarrassed to admit that they don’t speak or even understand English (which is by the way not the end of the world!) and they say ‘yes’ to everything and or direct you to the wrong places or point you in the wrong direction as they may have something else in mind for you.

So, when a Goan says that the beach is only a ten-minute-walk away he doesn’t actually mean walk simply because he is never walking!!!! Nobody is walking in this town except the stupid foreigners who have just arrived and don’t know yet that the way to move about is not by foot but by scooter or motorbike.

But as good-hearted and gullible as I am I took his word for it and thought that I would make it to the beach in about 10 minutes, during the midday heat, 35 degrees. Walking!!

I must have been delirious for I felt like a roast chicken (or in German a ‘broiler’ as I felt headless anyway)…waddling my way along the dusty road together with the cows…and the dogs….and the goats and the ever-honking motor vehicles brushing past me, pushing me threateningly close to the ditch by the road.

In general, I am not aware of the fact that I am a white woman but I over here I am constantly reminded of that! What an odd feeling!!!

The staring and name calling! And whistling!!! (I’ve never liked being whistled at – by anyone really cos it makes blush and this heat makes my face even redder than it already is..)

Anyway, half-way to the beach I was suddenly stopped by a young Indian man who engaged me in a conversation about racial discrimination, driving his motor bike at walking speed next to me. (Quite clever actually, he could probably smell that I felt bad for being white already and must have thought to himself ‘oh let’s put some salt into those wounds and see if I can lighten her burden of carrying all those rupees! I know I am being a bit too sarcastic but seriously…that’s how it felt!)

Me being me, being very polite and open, I engaged in a chat with him. As it turns out he speaks French and a little bit of German – which immediately raised the level of trust on my part. He then offered me a ride to the beach claiming that he was going to go there as well for the Wednesday Flea Market.

Well, by that time apart from dripping with sweat my feet had swollen up and I already had blisters on my feet and therefore I thought to myself “Sod it!” and hopped onto the back of his bike praying that he would actually take me to the beach and not down a dark alley to cut me into pieces.

Everything was fine and the ride was actually quite enjoyable for the breeze cooled my face and my feet. And as long as he stayed on the main road I was happy. I sat behind me and he drove very slowly which suited me very well because I didn’t want to have to hold on to him. That would have been a bit awkward – not only because he was a stranger but also because I wasn’t sure how Indians felt about touching.

(Although, mind you: he was a bloke so he probably would have enjoyed it. ;)

We tried to continue the conversation whilst on the bike but knowing that this was logistically slightly impossible I just kept saying “Oh really!” “Aha. That’s interesting!”

And that was when he suddenly took a turn to take a ‘short cut’! Immediately I held my breath and felt my heart stop for a second. Inside, I was freaking out. But luckily my brain kicked in and prevented from doing anything stupid but rather demanded that I remain calm as not to upset my abductor!!!

I calmly mentioned that I recognized the area and that I was fine to walk to the beach from here and that I would certainly find my own way now. So, as politely as I could I’ve asked him to stop and let me off.

But he wouldn’t stop. And when we drove into a horde of cows I have decided to stick it out and stay on the bike and jump off the next chance I would get. (You know…as peaceful as the cows looked…they all had horns and I am sure they would have smelled my fear!)

And then alas! There was the beach! He was right and didn’t trick me! Hallelujah! And then, this young man whose name I have conveniently forgotten insisted on walking along the beach with me. He actually wanted to have a drink together. Still shocked from the whole experience (I never would have done that in Europe!) and as politely as I could at that stage I declined – because all I wanted was some me-time, really!!! I just needed time to digest the past couple of days and come to terms with the different culture. (And I knew that all he wanted was to see me in my bikini and take a picture!)

By hiding underneath parasols and pretending to know some other English girls I ‘lost’ him, finally, or he lost me. Whatever. I got rid of him. Thank God!! (I know that sounds really unthankful but under the circumstances you would have felt the same. Unless you’re a man…or of different color…or whatever…)

Well, obviously, I didn’t know the girls and didn’t talk to them much but I felt some sort of connection as they were people like me – white people – from home! A huge sigh escaped from my chest and the feeling of consolation rushed over me. Finally, I can sit or lie down and relax and enjoy the sun!!!! At last!

Once I got comfortable on my little sun bed (with two dogs taking refuge from the heat underneath in the cool sand) I had the chance to have a closer look at the beach. J

What I saw was far from that lovely Thailand picture I had in mind: first, I noticed dogs. I saw two or three playing around and then I looked further down the beach and saw another four or five. And I thought “Well, the Goans must really love their animals!” until I realized those dogs were all stray dogs who lived off the tourists’ rubbish! And they lived on the beach in massive groups of 12-15 and….only very few female dogs (those lucky bitches! Hehe).

But no, it wasn’t funny actually. Not only am I scared of dogs or one dog but 20 of them…holy crap!

So, as if to prove to myself that I am not being fazed by all of this I made my way into the water…anticipating refreshment…the air was really hot…just over 32 degrees….but disappointingly, the water was just as warm…

The waves however, were really cool! Really big ones that pushed you under and spat you on the beach…such fun!!!

Later on I found out that actually nobody was supposed to be in the water – hence the red flag next to the lifeguard’s high post. Luckily, everyone on the beach was just as ignorant as me. J

But apart from those exciting waves, I can’t find anything nice to say about the beach: it is dirty; there is rubbish everywhere, lots of men preying on you and all of those sellers and wanna-be-sales men and women!!! It borders on harassment! They want the money I don’t have. L Then you’ve got the cows and dogs coming after you as well. It all felt a bit mental.

And in all of this it feels very weird being here all alone … trying to process those first impressions of India and the stuff that is going on in my head anyway…there are lots of places I would have rather been –not alone - but sadly wasn’t.

Of course, I have imagined things to be different. And normally I am quite good at meeting people to hang out with but for the moment I am wandering around alone which feels a bit awful. Tout seul…  And here I am moaning again…

Later on I went to one of the bistros to get some food as I hadn’t eaten since breakfast…I kind of forgot… and was really really hungry.

Well, I’ve waited an hour for a bowl of Chinese noodles…and that I thought “That’s it!!!! I’ve had for the day!!!!! – not knowing that it wasn’t over yet. The worst bit was yet to come: the 10-minute (i.e. 30 min) walk home in the gleaming heat….oh well, I’ve been through worse things…really…so I didn’t mind the Goan junkies offering me all kinds of recreational drugs which I kindly declined as well as all the offers from Indian women who were holding on to my arms trying to make me buy stuff…really I was polite….

I didn’t even mind the dogs…I’ve had it.

Even when I was almost pushed into the ditch again – I thought “Well, that’s it! I’m never coming back here!!! This is crap!” And then, of course, I got lost. I couldn’t find my way back home!!! Ssssugar!!!!
The map I was given by the Brahmani Yoga was so, was so….well different….because I couldn’t find or even recognize the roads as they were drawn up in the map. All I saw was trees!! (Hehe, maybe for the first time in my life?! How ironic!!)

But I was adamant that I didn’t need any help, that I could find my own way home. And as politely as ever I declined and didn’t requite the ever-polite offers from passing taxi drivers to take me home for a small recompense. Actually, everyone who has got his/her hands on some sort of motor vehicle is a taxi man or woman.

If the roads hadn’t been so friggin’ dirty I would have taken off my shoes as my feet and blisters were boiling and sifting (yuck!). But I was determined to make it home alone and to go the Restorative Yoga class to finish off my day with a nice and lovely experience and meditation to make up for that hustle and bustle of the day.

When I got home I didn’t have time for a shower so I quickly changed into my yoga gear and walked over to the shala. Gosh, was I glad to finally get there. The sun was about to set and offered a beautiful shade of orange in the sky.

The group was very small – were only five people altogether. I sank into the yoga mat and onto the bolster with great relief. I’ve tried to let go of everything that had really bugged me during the day. The cooling air seemed to underline my relief. I slipped into a meditative state that made me forget how miserable I was during the day. During meditation I squinted around to look at the other members of the group. There was the teacher who was so gentle and soft in nature I could only describe her as ‘brown velvet.’ Then there was the teacher trainer girl (whose name I’ve forgotten) and her brother who has agreed to take this class just for her sake. He was cute and he awkwardly tried out all the poses as suggested and he kept smirking to himself probably thinking that he’ll never do this again.

And then there was the ‘dude’ – tall, good-looking, blond, green-eyed surfer dude from Sydney. He seemed to grin even if he was not. His face was conveniently tanned that his white teeth only rivaled the shine of the moon when he opened his mouth to a wide smile. During mediation he smiled, very contently. He was absolutely there – in that place of mind where you can utterly and completely let go. Oh how I envied him for I had a hard time sitting still and really detaching my mind from my body. First my nose was itching. Then the bolster wasn’t in the right place. Then my legs were itching because of the sand that stubbornly stuck to my 'suntan-lotioned' limbs. And although I really managed to let go for a few moments, I couldn’t wait for this to be over and have a shower and some food.

After class the dude (whose name was Dave, i.e. Dayve by the way) and I chatted for a bit…you know the usual…what’s your name…how long are you here for…kind of thing. He suggested to give me a lift and then changed his mind and thought it would be better to get dinner somewhere before hitting the sack.

This was a yet another new experience: going to dinner with a stranger, riding on the back of his scooter in the dark for there were no streetlights. I mean – again he could have taken me anywhere really! (I don’t know why I am always so mistrusting and so frigging scared all the time! I blame my parents!)

We went to this lovely Tibetan restaurant and for the first time I actually ate food at a restaurant in India.  But me being me - I had a salad or something like that…something ridiculous I thought was ‘safe’ to eat. I was glad to hear that Dave was just like me when he first got here….living of food stuffs that couldn’t have possibly infected with any of the local diseases Westerners could catch from unclean water or contaminated food.

I was glad to finally talk to someone over here. It felt so good because I had been so alone. But I think all that came out of my mouth was moaning…I think I must have opened the gates and in only a few sentences must have outlined my miserable life. Well, I actually don’t remember talking about myself. All the more reason why what he said caught me so unawares and was straight to the point: “Helga, you gotta have faith. Have faith that you’ll be taken care of.” Those few words shot through every single cell of my body and slightly reverberated behind my eyes close enough to set the waterworks going!!! But I thought better of it: what a jerk, I thought. How come he thinks he’s got me all figured out?

I guess it was just one of those purely incidental moments that make a lot of sense without meaning to.

After he dropped me home I felt kind of upset and unsettled and sad and lonely and everything at the same time and in the shower I could not hold the fort anymore and started bawling my eyes out. Loud and heavy sobs shook my body. I don’t remember for how long I had been in the shower. It seemed like an eternity when suddenly it hit me: Shit, Helga! You are using too much water! The people over here cannot afford to waste water like that! So, I left the shower. But I hadn’t stopped crying.

And again, I felt that I missed Him. I know now that I cried for myself and that I really missed being taken care of and that I really missed to be the object of someone’s affection.

It hit me there and then still shaken by heavy sobs and crocodile tears running down my cheeks that whichever places I go to and whichever people I meet and fall in or out of love with or have feelings for – the places I might leave – the people I might lose one way or another but the only constant in this equation is: me. I am the only thing/person I’ve got. Whichever the circumstance, I will always run into me and have me with me. It’s always going be me and I. That’s it. Everything else is a bonus.

So, I should better start taking care of myself and making myself happy because nobody else can. Life is fluid, not steady as such. I need to – no I want to love myself. Until that moment I didn’t actually know what this meant. I had heard this phrase many times before and I had said it, too. But I didn’t know what it meant, what it felt like. Now I knew: it felt like that. Like I am really glad and happy to have had myself with me and that I was not alone at all. I had me. Yay! And I’m going to take care of myself.

Literally, I had to travel all the way to other side of the world in order to find myself. It’s still very fresh but I am so glad I did.

My sleep was restless, it was boiling hot in my bedroom as my landlords had decided to save electricity and turn if off. I lay awake for about two hours and then decided, “Sod it!” and slipped into the hallway to turn it back on as I really needed my fan.

On my way back into bed I found a huge massive cockroach type of bug scurrying around in my bedroom. It moved so quickly and was so noisy doing it gave me the fright of my life. I think I must have frightened that poor little thing as well because it was frantically trying to find a way out of my room until it slipped under the door into the hallway.

And then cursing that little thing I suddenly started laughing, shaking my belly. Securely tucked up into my mosquito-net sanctuary bed I literally laughed myself to sleep for a few hours.