The Times They Are a-Changin': India: Trip to Goa

So, I'm supposed to have my final semester examination on the 23rd of February - screw it - & our semester holidays-cum-study week were set before our final exams, i.e. we have 2 weeks of holidays that are meant to be used to revise for our finals. My friends invited me to go to Goa for just a one-day trip to thaw our brains before frying the living shit out of it later. As always, I hesitated; these guys have at least started & covered 25% of the syllabus & I'm still at the starting line. Then, this quote (again) appeared in me head,

I keep forgetting the fact that he's a spoiled kid from a rich family while I'm just a spoiled kid with no money.

I don't know why they chose Goa but I relented & joined the trip. There were 11 of us (myself included) & out of them, 2 were our seniors. Sincerely, at first, I feel a little uncomfortable with them joining us because... well, would you behave the same way when you go to a trip with your parents or with your friends? Either way, I was eventually grateful that they tagged along. (see Calangute Beach).

From Belgaum

We planned on living at 3 a.m. in the morning of 8th February 2015, Sunday because the journey would take us about 3 hours & by the time we get there, we would be able to start our day with a beautiful sunrise. However, the car rental company said they didn't have a vehicle available at that time & we could only start our trip at 6 a.m.-ish.

I swear I went to bed at 12 a.m. the previous night so that I could wake up early at 5 & packed; but, I woke up at 6 instead - damn you, exotic dreams - & had myself a speedy shower, a speedy prayer (Lord, forgive me) & a speedy "packed my shits as fast as I shit". I was the last to get ready but who cares, because by 6:45 a.m., we were still waiting for our vehicle outside the campus. One thing about Belgaum is that locals here have an impeccable sense of timing.

I hope you're insured

At 7 o' clock (finally, b****) we departed from our campus with 2 Toyota Innovas. There are 5 people in the first car & 6 in the other, with one senior in each car. I rode the former & the cost for the car rental from Belgaum to Goa & back to Belgaum is 350 rupees for each person. The last time I left Belgaum - which was also my first time - it was at night & pitch black so I didn't get to see much of a view, I did so for this time & it wasn't much. The outskirts of the town were filled with shabby houses & shops, some small farms & a small number of unfinished/abandoned construction sites. It's like I had just entered the Twilight Zones. We entered the "highway" & the whole road from there was on the hill; from there, we could see that Belgaum is a secluded place that is surrounded by hills - no wonder it's tough to get seafood here.

I don't own a fancy camera so here's a Googled image of the hills. Suck it.

The best I could do *so close*

"The road on the hill was akin to the road towards Kelantan" said a friend of mine. I wouldn't know, but what I do know is that, the road could turn an atheist into a saint. God, I rather walk to Mordor on feet than go through that road again. With its wavy & narrow path, I wouldn't be surprised if they have at least an accident once a day. To add insult to injury, the road had only small lanes & they were not separated from each other by a centre line paint. We almost had a head-on collision with a lorry but that wouldn't be our first time.

I would love to describe to you the beauty of the view but since I'm still traumatised by the driving experience, I think it's best if you stick with Nat Geo.

From 8 to 8:30 a.m. we stopped at a resting area on the hill, called "Delta". The temperature up there was about 15 degree celcius if I nipples weren't lying & for the first time in my life, I could see warm vapour coming out of my breath. It's too bad that such first-time experience had to take place in the middle forest that doesn't even have a f***in' hermit nearby. We had some hot tea & soon we were back on our journey.

"It's safe. There's no lady in sight."

This is how snuff films starts out like...

I couldn't tell whether God was telling us to be more careful or that we should turn back, but we saw 2 separate accidents - well, what's left of the cars anyway - not far from each other. This is why our drivers would honk the horn for every turn he's about to take to alert other incoming drivers.

Piss off nature, Toyota is here *still no lady in sight*

Destination: Goa

I checked the Internet for the meaning of the name of Goa, which means "a nation of cowherds" - admittedly, it has quite a ring to it - & we reached the tollbooth into the city at 9 a.m.; we didn't reach the main road until 10 o'clock, where we see a variety of buildings, which consists mostly of small chapels. Similar to Malacca, Goa was once colonised by the Portuguese but for much a longer time & you can see the influences of the "explorers" scattered throughout the town; I'm telling you this because I don't want to take advantage of your "intelligence." For every 2 to 3 blocks you're bound to stumble into a cross-shaped stone markings.

3G: Gold, Gospel, & Glory. You're welcome, bitches

If you've been to Penang & Malacca, then you've seen Goa. The environment was uncanny except with lesser churches, lesser Indians, lesser hot tourists (if you're into old people, good for you), & lesser dirt. Then again, it felt like Hawaii too; or maybe that's because one of our friends decided to bring his ukulele along for the whole trip & wouldn't stop playing with that piece of shit for every 10 f***ing seconds.

Baga Beach

At 10:30 a.m., we reached our first destination: the Baga Beach. The seniors had actually changed their plan to make a trip to Old Goa first - because we didn't want to be burned alive like a witch on a stake - but they fell asleep in the car & didn't inform the drivers about it. FYI, I was awake the whole time along the trip trying not to piss myself in the car. Nonetheless, one of the driver said something us having already passed Old Goa & it's best for us to go there on our way back instead. So, we settled on the beach, first. The temperature in Goa was as hot as in Malaysia, so I don't have any qualm with it.

There's a Lord-knows-what's-it-called river here for the fisherman to park their boats.

We were warned by our drivers to take care of our belongings & there were plenty of people trying to sell us stuffs e.g. ice-creams, necklaces, ear rings (do I look that gay?). Some of the guys bought hats, caps & sunglasses - pfff, what amateurs. I brought 2 of them with me - & I see them haggling for the prices. Personally, I would love to buy some souvenirs to show off to some people back at home but come on: most of these stuffs are made in Chine & you're charging us a fortune for them? I felt sorry for some of them. I'm sure it's an honest business & they have a family back at home to feed but I'm a Penangite, mates. You can't teach grandpa to suck eggs 'cause grandpa's done enough sucking...

... till all his teeth fell off

All right, enough nagging. Now, the beach. One word: B-E-A-U-tiful! It's much better than the Panambur Beach back in Mangalore. The water is blue & clean, there were some great activities to be done, lots of sand & beaches *wink* if you catch my drift, & it's just the best beach I've been in my life. Heck, it's so beautiful that it could turn an impotent man into a stallion.

Hope you guys have enough tissues to wipe off all that "excitement"

We settled down under some coconut trees, sat in a circle & somehow each of us, one by one told a few personal things & our backgrounds to each other. It sounded lame at first. I mean, I just want to lie down there, stare at the sand *winks again*, & swim in the water for all day long. There wasn't a moment there that I didn't wished I had stayed there forever.

If I can't have what I want...

But, getting to know each other is a good exercise too I suppose; truthfully, my social skills could use some work. We later played a game on how each person was denoted a value of money & we needed to produce a sum by combining the value of each person. It's a straightforward & simple game but I love the lesson it taught us all: each person has his/her own self-worth & value to the world. No matter how small we think of ourselves sometimes, we tend to forget how important & essential we are to others. We need each other to complete ourselves (no homo) & we should we grateful for the people we have to call families & friends.

We're "this" close to getting to this scene.

We left the beach at 12 noon but not before playing another game of memorising everyone's favourite food & drink until the end of day. I was really sad that we had to leave the place. It was the perfect getaway spot & it's not like we're going back there again soon. I truly envy the locals.

Envy is such a delicate word.

Old Goa

At 1 p.m., we reached Old Goa, a must-visit historical area for travellers & tourists. On the way there, we passed a bridge over Mandovi River & I regretted not bringing my friend's DSLR with me because the view was impeccable. It's going to take a few months for me to get over for not taking any pictures of it & years for not spending more time on Baga Beach. I also regretted not buying any map throughout the whole trip; I thought I wouldn't need it since I'm only going to be in Goa for only a day but that's probably the best souvenir a tourist could buy, even if it's printed in China.

*so close*

We had our lunch at a restaurant called Ratna Sagar, where we ordered fried rice & tried to keep our meal light. We were saving ourselves for a luxurious dinner at night. The Muslim community in Goa was much smaller than the ones in Belgaum & Mangalore; so to find a decent halal restaurant was not an easy task. Ratna Sagar is located right opposite the church & what's ironic was that there's a a small separate liquor store (small if you're an alcoholic) inside the restaurant itself.

"Trust us, those wines are only for display."

There were plenty of chapels, churches, historical buildings & monuments here in Old Goa but since we didn't have that much of time to spare, we had to limit our visits to only 2: the Se Cathedral & the Church of Bom Jesus.

The Basilica of Bom Jesus

"... cuz tis' place is da bom'" - a local

We finished our luncheon at 2 p.m. & headed straight away to the Church of Bom Jesus. It's an exquisite & impressively maintained architecture from the 1600s. I didn't find it to be a big deal until I found out there lied the namesake of my school, Saint Francis Xavier. I wondered to myself: am I the first person from my school batchmates to be given the honour to meet this man? Meeting him (his remains were in a tiny coffin, so, Schrödinger's cat, do your thing) made me a little proud of myself & my school. You would too if you were me.

It was Sunday & I wasn't surprised by the huge turnout. Inside the building there were countless number of carvings, statues & paintings; I'm too tired to describe them all so just enjoy the photos instead. What caught my attention the most is the church's strict rule on attire for attending the church. I found this exceptional because back in Penang, people who go to church often wore clothes as if they're going to a prom.

Thou shan't dress up like a whore.

The church also prohibited anyone from taking any photos of anyone TOGETHER with the displays & interiors; it's okay for us to take photos of them only without anyone in the picture (intentionally). I couldn't see any pastors or nuns other than a few plain-dressed representatives - not sure if they're associated with the church - showing the visitors around & explaining details of the church. Either way, I salute the caretakers for their devoted effort at preserving the culture, honour & prestige of their heritage.

Contrary to popular belief, you don't actually burn to ashes if you're a Muslim visiting a church.

The altar

The patron

Can you see the coffin-size box above a couple of cupids? That's the relic of St. Francis.

"Mox Intmica Evgat" shall be the name of my new pet goldfish

There're plenty of paintings & murals too if you're into that sot of things.

Must've been a real jerk to even piss off a Jesus

Civilising in progess

Someone should make a biopic of him starring Sean Connery.

Elvis was a hack.

The coffin of St. Francis Xavier

But I MUST know...

You can see that the interior carvings & murals of the church were heavily influenced by the Indian culture & style. I'm guessing they were done by the locals who had converted into becoming Christians; there aren't many (or any) gold-plated statues in Churches in Malaysia but they are plenty of them in Buddhist & Hindhu temples. Seriously, take the figures & characters from each art, replace them with that from the Hndhu religion, myths, & folklores, & you'll get yourself a Hindhu temple.