Still Goa, but is this still India?

Remember, Goa was a Portuguese colony for roughly 450 years...

Below is the church in Siolim, the 'big' town in northern coastal Goa.  

Inside the Bom Jesus Cathedral, the tomb of St. Francis Xavier.  At the top you see the glass coffin which holds his incorruptible corpse.  

(Not kidding.)  

More scenes from Old Goa below.  Once the colonial capital of Portuguese Goa it is now a World Heritage Site and easily one of the most amazing places I've ever visited.  Sublime architecture, hybrid faith and worship, and huge expanses of clean green peace...  certainly a side of India I never would've expected, but one I love.

The last two are shots of Tiracol Fort.  Now a hotel (eek) but still so beautiful, remote and peaceful.  

Remember Goa?

Way back when, we went there, took a ton of pictures and then put them all on Chris's computer - the OLD Mac.  Now I have my own Mac (YAY! YAY! YAY!) but sadly, it is rather wanting for pictures.  Bluetoothing music from old to new Mac has been the priority, but I did snag a few Goa snaps to share with my Nag Champa fans.  So, here we go, again!

Most of our trip was spent just lazing at the beach in Mandrem, over the dunes from the much loved Rivercat.  But one day we schlepped up to Arombol and hit the beach there.  A totally different scene, and a totally different beach, as you can see.  The surf was rough, the undertow tricky and those boulders, though scenic, looked a bit to gnarly for us to swim with.  

We opted for the "sweet lake" instead.  The lake is tucked away north of the main Arombol beach, around two cliffs and past a string of beach shacks and tourist huts.  It being late April the walk was mellow but I can only imagine how rowdy it is during the season - you literally are forced to run the gauntlet of hawkers and cafes and touts to get to the beach above, and lake.  Crazy.  (Also crazy was the man who wanted to charge me 100Rs for sitting on a beach chair for all of 15 minutes.  I declined and he, surprisingly, backed off.)

The shot below is from a little bar/pizza place/pool hall right at the end of the main road in Arombol.  The kids ran the pool table like the sharks they are and threatened to not only school, but also kneecap all challengers.  So I guess I probably had it coming when the manager wanted to charge me 50Rs to use an office/bedroom/closet to change into our swimsuits.  (But as with Mr. Beach Chair, he backed right off when I told him I wouldn't be paying him one red hot paise to use his hovel to change in.  Cool.)  

Once changed, we started trekking to the sweet lake, stopping on the way to buy a chammok (second picture, Ben's running past one) at the world famous Arambol Hammocks.  I was thrilled to buy such a fab piece of swinging fun, but the shopping experience itself was probably the best I've ever had in India.  Andy, one of the owners was just getting ready to go kite surfing, and had about 90% of his shop/home packed for the season, but delayed to handle our chammock needs.  Out of nowhere a chammock materialized, and without my saying anything the price dropped and dropped again, and all the while Andy kept throwing in extras.  The man was thoughtful, kind and truly wanted to make me and the kids happy.  His partner Helen was joking with friends while we were there and seamlessly folded all three of us into her conversation, ending with Ben and Caitlin wrapped up in a Flying Carpet.  Icing on the cake was that the fact all this happened while I was wearing a tiny bikini and NO ONE LEERED AT ME, not even the tiniest bit, even once.  Hallelujah!  

So, Arombol, despite being ground zero for the Goa Freak scene was a pretty cool place to hang out.  The main drag looked like Shakedown Street gone wrong and I can imagine the place is a nightmare in the season, but it was a nice place to visit when it was dead. 

I'll leave you with one of the little nasties that invaded Mandrem toward the end of our time there.  These suckers where EVERYWHERE on the beach but thankfully only caused itching and nothing worse.  Looks like we picked a good time to head south to Panjim and Old Goa.

In Which I am le Tired, but I blahg ennyway bc Mz Nag Ch. said so

Please imagine this entire post a la this. Also, I think you can enlairge the pictures, but I dunno, I just write the blogs ok don't ask me ok? ok.

Hokay. So, maybe you already know, but we are in INDIA.

It is big, old, spiritual motherland, full of Indians and us. Part we are in (like our apartment) it smells like nag champa. rilly.

First we were here, was ok, don't wanna go back.
cuz we saw it already.

Now we are here. It is le Pune.
It's great, we're done.

On June, we are going to Delhi I think, I hope so, I didn't buy the tickets yet. Here is a Delhi, don't even think about pastrami,
it's not that kind of Delhi.

After that, we will go to some Leh. Is north, Ladakhist, very Buddhi.


It is in Hi-Mall-uh-yuhz, say it right, means abode of snow. I know, b.c I am a Sanskrit.

After some La-dee-dakhing around, we are going home. You know what home looks like, cuz mostly you live there. And the other ones know. It looks like a storage space. Big closet. With our stuffs.

Then we are not coming to any more INDIAs for a long time, kyunki I have to go find some tenure. So, in this sort of area

where should we go for touring about? It's a contest. If we go to the spot you recommend, you get to come watch the kids while Maggie and I go eat yukky spicy Indian food for once, you can order McDonalds they deliver everywhere.

We have more restrictions on time than money, like maybe 5-8 days we could spend all at once or broken up. And area, so we are not going to Oh! Calcutta or the oRissa.

Anybody who says, go to Ahmedabad you can visit LD Institute for Prakrit Books, you get rs10 bonus. Nobody wants to go to Ahmedabad



plus I went there one time already except for Prakrit is not great.

Some day I'm going to be | | this close to getting a tenure track job and someone is going to say, Aren't you the guy from Nag Champion? And then I am going to be washing dishes again. Is Hokay, I kind of liked it.

Meema and Uncle Dan!

Braving a 15 hour flight and a summer heat wave, Meema and Uncle Dan just wrapped up a week's visit to India, and what a visit it was.

From the plush confines of the Delhi Radisson to the homey recesses of southwest Pune our intrepid relations braved the best and worst India has to offer.  What we lacked in big flash tourist activities we more than made up for in pleasant slice of life adventures.  

 

The kids delighted in showing M and UD around, taking them to the pool and Guides as well as a bunch of our favorite restaurants.  

It was ridiculously stinkin' hot, make-you-take-a-3-hour-nap hot so we really didn't do much - we couldn't!  However, UD and Chris squeezed in some motorcycle touring 

Safety First!

and movie making.

The Executive Producer hard at work with his editorial assistants.

And we also spent an afternoon poking around in the Old City in Pune.  

In Delhi we took a driving tour of some of the city's famous spots,

 and spent and enjoyable morning exploring (and SHOPPING) at Dilli Haht, an arts and handicrafts bazaar.  We also witnessed a hail storm 

(not kidding, not Photoshopped) and ate truly fabulous food.

But really, the point of the visit was to spend time together after 7 (8?) months apart, and I think we all parted feeling reconnected and replenished.  Cookies were baked, books read, games played, pictures colored and so on.  All the good ol' Grandma activities were enjoyed, along with plenty of wrestling and silliness with Uncle Dan. 

I know my brother is ready for another trip, and my mom - well, my mom is ready for us to come home!  Here's hoping the next 3 months speed by and that UD can find a way to visit us in Ladahk.  

Dear India

Native speakers of English find The F-Word offensive in most public settings.  For instance, it ought not to be included in any song played as Muzak in a coffee shop.  I know Shaggy and AKon are SUUUUUUPER cool, but really, you gotta get the radio edit before you play that CD at Barista.   (Ok, Shaggy is actually pretty cool.  Roni, memories of Bassett St and S. Mills?)

Also, could you get a message to that guy who was riding his bike behind me on Apte Road today?  The one who was whistling at me?  Over and over again?  And who started ringing his bike bell AND whistling when the whistling alone didn't get me to turn around?  Yea, him.  Let him know that no woman is ever going to go for that.  Especially not this married, 33 year old mother of two.  

Thanks!  

love, Maggie

ME First

I grew up in the Midwest and if I may be so bold as to say so, I think I embody many classically Midwestern characteristics.  And culturally, I wonder if you could get much further from the American Midwest than urban India.  

For example, in any sort of public setting/large group/waiting-in-line scenario I'm just going to go with the assumption that it isn't my turn first.  I'll find a line and wait patiently in it. Quietly.  If there is some sort of protocol for determining who gets to have a turn when, I'm following it.   

 

Not so India.  Fly on a domestic Indian flight and you will witness 99% of the passengers leap up the second the plane slows to taxi-ing speed and crush toward the (still closed and locked) door.  The stewardesses will say nothing.  Wait in line at a shop and be prepared to have numerous people literally push you out of the way so they may be helped first.  This isn't considered rude.  Its just how things get done.  Really.  

So I shouldn't have been surprised today when a rickshaw wallah at the rickshaw stand ran up and hustled me into his rickshaw, in spite of the ten or so other drivers ahead of him in the queue who should rightfully have gotten passengers before him.   We took off and at the first intersection he swerved across FOUR lanes of traffic to make a right turn (right turn = left turn here, traffic wise), IN FRONT OF like 12 lanes of oncoming traffic.

Nor should it have shocked me when in a different rickshaw a few hours later the driver pulled up at a red light about 5 vehicles back from the intersection, scanned all the other roads and then swerved out around a median, into the oncoming lane and ran not one but two red lights and merged (without looking) into traffic squashing onto a narrow bridge.  

Yet somehow my meek Midwestern heart quailed.  Guess my 8+ months here haven't changed me that much after all.  

We interrupt the Goa posts...

...to bring you a concise update on our current location, travel plans and moving schedule!

Seems there has been a bit of confusion among Nag Champa fans who might not read the blog religiously or who are not close relatives. In order to clear that up, here's the news:

Right now we are still in Pune. In early June we move to Ladahk.

We are leaving India early, in early-ish August.

From India we are going back to Madison, some of us for just a week or two, others of us for more like a month.

Chris has accepted a job at Washington & Lee University, in Lexington VA. We're going to be there for the 2009-10 academic year. After that, we're at the mercies of the academic job market.

(McGovern, can you pre-order some more cow sacrifices for us? That first one worked so well!)

We are by turns, and often all at once super excited, and totally bummed out. Thrilled for the job, the going home early, the chance to live so much closer to our East Coast peeps, and the new experiences waiting in VA. And terribly sad to have to more permanently say goodbye to Madison and everything and everyone we love there.

(Rumor has it that Chris could come back and do some teaching at the UW in the summer, so you Madisonians may not be totally rid of us yet!)

Goa, II - more Rivercat

By now you are familiar with my favorite hotel in India... I could not keep from taking pictures, nor evidently can I stop myself posting them! I hope you all enjoy the splendor as much as the kids and I did.

Kids playing chess in the common room downstairs

Upstairs hall, right outside our room

Door to our room

More rooms upstairs

Doo, doo, doo, lookin out our back door

Our bathroom

A rivercat

Lovely though the environs may be, the place would be nothing with out the gracious attentions of Rinoo Seghal, the proprietor. Rinoo escaped life as a business man in Delhi 20 years ago and built the villa bit by bit. He lives mostly in Goa now and is the consumate host. Mellow beyond belief and just the perfect blend of helpful and inquisitive. Every evening he materialized with questions about our day and a pitch-perfect recommendation for dinner. Every spot was a winner, even the joint in Arombol that the kids hated thanks to the loud music and weird hippies. (I felt right at home, naturally.) Like so many adults we've met here, he was genuinely interested in my kids and truly wanted them to be at home with him, and happily, unlike so many folks we've met, Rinoo was able to strike the right balance between friendly and completely overbearing and cheek pinching. Not only did he greet Ben with "Chota Baba-ji ki jai ho!" ("Hooray for the little Baba!") (Baba means something like 'guy who makes everything easy and happy') he also listened to Caitlin's observations about jellyfish and her reactions to a horse book she borrowed from his library. Nary a cheek was pinched. And perhaps best of all, he effortlessly wove in and out of adult conversation with me and chatting with the kids, showing no twinge of frustration or annoyance at the interruptions.

Rinoo-baba's vibe rubs off on everyone around him, apparently. The 2 staff people were equally kind, mellow, and affectionate without being TOO affectionate. The cook was called Amma (Mother) for good reason. And the other guests were also a delight. We met a great Omani/Brittish/Cincinattian couple who were in Goa scouting locations for a camp/retreat of their own, as well as doing some work as photographers. He is also an actor and spent a long time one morning talking to Caitlin about the ups and downs of 'the business' and strategies for staying hungry and improving your craft even when you can't get on stage. He did more to cure her homesickness in one breakfast than I think I've been able to do in months. Wonderful.

Once we settled into an AC room (Goa is HOT and HUMID in April, don't let anyone tell you otherwise!) a week wasn't nearly enough. We will be back, definitely.

Goa, I

What to say, where to begin?  It is every bit as lovely as you have heard, and if you are willing to work for it, even lovelier.  Words fail, pictures will more than suffice, with a minimum of commentary.

Landed at Dabolim airport and saw that Mr. T was also enjoying Goa. 

 And then up to Mandrem and Villa Rivercat.  The website doesn't even begin to do the place justice.  In a tiny village, at the end of a sleepy road, down a little dirt path the villa sits among trees, on a salt river and behind a sand dune.  Chickens wander in the yard.  Cats sleep on the porch.  Coconuts drop on the balconies.  From inside incense and soft chanting wafts out to greet you, and then Rinnoo-baba himself, with a big smile and open arms.  The kids and I were in love with the place at first sight.  

Fresh juice on the verandah, and then somehow we were able to tear ourselves away from exploring the house and talking to Rinoo in order to visit the beach.  Good thing we did.

.  

And that's just the beginning.  Photo-rich blogging takes so long that this will have to become a multi-installment affair.  Not that you're complaining, huh?

Gettin Goan

Putting kids to sleep, then mega-posting.  Til then, lovely flowers from the spice farm in Ponda.  

Big Guy

He's 4, going on 15, I swear.  

Ben is out in the street playing soccer with 3 other neighborhood boys - ranging from roughly 10-16 years old.  Most days he used to watch them play from his window and occasionally even took his own soccer ball downstairs and kicked it around in the courtyard on his own, but today he actually joined in.  After doing the solo-soccer routine he came in and hemmed and hawed at me for the longest time about opening his bedroom window before he came out with the confession that he wanted to join the big boys.  And then it took even longer to work up to asking me to help him.

But we made it downstairs, past the perfunctory greetings (I love boys' social interactions - "Hi.  Wanna play?"  "Ok.") and Ben was off and running with the big guys.  About 10 minutes later I heard his squeaky little voice say, "I'll be right back guys," and then the big ones calling after him urgently.  

I opened the front door and he came chugging in, blood dripping from a knee.  No tears, nothing.  Ben kicked off his shoes and said, "Mom, I need to put on some band-aids.  Will you get them out for me?"  

We washed the knees, with gnarly Indian anti-bacterial soap and the kid didn't wince or cry even the tiniest bit.  I got out the band-aids and Ben took over.  Opened them, squirted Neosporin and stuck 'em on.  Then he charged right back out there yelling, "Hey Guys!  I'm back!"

Like it was nothing.  Like he was some kind of big guy.

Which, verging on 5, I guess he is.  

Official Announcement

A few weeks ago I mentioned some developing news--the first batch, not the nonsense about what I'm driving these days which is, btw, the world's most popular motorcycle. [mine does not have electric start, cuz it's old] Since then I've spoken with most of the SLNC advisory board about the denouement of that patch of excitement, but maybe those of you who aren't nuclearally related to a Nag Champion might like to know what the heck I was talking about.

2009-10 I will be teaching as a Visiting Assistant Instructor at Washington & Lee University in Lexington, VA. It's about as good a first job as a young(ish? pushing 35?) scholar could ask for, particularly someone like me who has always been about classroom first and research later. W&L was ranked #14 among small liberal arts schools last year--it usually comes in around there. The job is a one year replacement for a colleague by whom I am frankly intimidated because of the might of his research acumen, but he is working with my advisor on a book right now, and so I got an inside track. The job is 6 courses over 2 12-week and 1 4-week semesters. Fall I'm teaching Intro to Religions and a 200-level seminar on renunciate religious virtuosos in India. We'll see about the Winter term courseload once I've had a chance to get my legs under me.

In addition to a near-ideal professional environment, the job offer was very generous--and will get a little more generous once I defend this fall. Lexington is horse country, which will be great for Maggie and Caitlin. Our best family friends the Hullemans are getting a job at JMU an hour away. The emerging Dr. Paul is in Charlottesville, also an hour away, and my folks are in Greensboro, three hours away. Aunt Margaret's house is prolly 4 hours.

Unfortunately, this means we will be far from WI...and that people will need to come visit.

Look--my wife and kids went on vacation, and all I get to do is post the pictures:

For Ms. Eclectically Yours, and others...

Yes! Obligation Free Blogging - of course. And now, free from obligation, 3 pictures to whet your appetites... First, the kids at the Anjuna Market. (Ben's expression is 100% representative of his opinion of the whole enterprise.) And then the flight of stairs up to our room at Villa Rivercat - dreamy, huh?

We're still here, really!

I realize that going to Goa and then hosting my mom and brother and not blogging about it at all definitely earns me a place in the Blogging Hall of Shame. The trip and the visit have been a wonderful whilrwind and will be detailed properly quite soon...but not yet. Everyone (minus Chris) flies to Delhi tomorrow for the big send-off and then the kids and I will be home on the 5th. After that you can count on a bunch of big fat juicy posts with more Goa/Grandma goodness than you can handle!

But until then, you've got to wait and I've got to pack, and schlep, and...

...stay tuned!