Gori in Goa

A Goan Adventure: My Journey over Christmas and New Year

I felt like royalty as I strolled along Calangute beach with Goan men asking to take a picture with me. That evening was a particular busy one as we were about to welcome in the New Year. My blonde hair, lightened even more by the Goa sun, stuck out amongst the crowds of dark haired Goan men and women filling the beach as they drank Kingfisher beer in preparation for the celebrations ahead. Before my trip, I had heard stories from family friends who had visited before about how the men like to take photographs with 'gori's', specifically blonde gori's. Gori is the word used to describe a white or fair-skinned girl in India and it is known that they take a photo to show their friends, claiming we are their girlfriends. According to the theory, I have a fair few boyfriends in India but it's harmless and doesn't spoil the experience.

After walking for several minutes, enjoying the soft sand in my toes and watching the tranquil exquisite sunset which brought a sense of calm to the chaos around me, I reached my destination in Candolim. Uninviting quirky wooden shacks line the beach just a step away from the calm sea. Despite their shabby looking exterior which looks as if it would fall with a gust of wind, their atmosphere and hospitality guarantees a relaxing and enjoyable experience. Out of countless shacks to chose from, each with it's own quirk and vibe to offer, my chosen one for the evening was called Alex's Shack which I tended to gravitate towards throughout my trip. Alex had gone above and beyond for the New Years Eve celebrations.

A fruity sensation flowing smoothly down my throat, my ears filled with instant mood lifting beats, mixed with a soft warm breeze brushing past my face as I sit looking out to the beach watching the sky getting darker. What more could I ask for?

I was excited to see what Goa's New Year celebrations had to offer. Further into the night, edging closer to the countdown, music was blearing and fellow tourists also at the shack had, by this time, one too many drinks. The atmosphere was lively and enchanting. It felt like I had just blinked when 23:59pm was upon us; I was having a blast. As if out of nowhere, there were fire dancers and crowds gathering on the beach front to watch the entertainment. Alex started the countdown; "five..four...three...two...one", the whole crowd on the beach chanted in unison. On one, colour lit up the sky revealing a cacophony of sights, sounds and bangs! Half of the locals and tourists were staring in awe, and the other half had their mobile devices in hand on video chat to their loved ones back in their homelands. I too, was one of the tourists celebrating by video calling my family back in the UK; to them it was 18:30pm and my family were just getting ready for their New Years Eve night out. After the phone call, just when I thought the entertainment was over, Alex then brought out a copious amount of lanterns for all the customers in his shack. Families, couples and friends hurdled together to light their green lanterns but laughing as they struggled due to the sea breeze. Finally, all lanterns were lit and a wave of green bright dots occupied the star filled sky. Captivated by the sight and the whole evening, I glared up at the lanterns reflecting on my whirlwind journey through Goa.

Thinking back to when I first stepped foot on Goan turf, wondering what I had done as I stepped out of my hotel on the first morning. A rush of dread and doubt flooded my mind with constant dissonance from an array of beeping vehicles, local villagers and tourists. Roaming the roads (what you can only describe as more of a dirt track full of dust and stones) are what seems to be every vehicle in the world, cows which are sacred in India, wild dogs and even people. There appears to be no traffic system with cars, auto rickshaw's (known as Tuk Tuk's), scooters and trucks going in all directions while dodging the cows, dogs and tourists. It is a truly chaotic sight and harsh on the ears too. After a few days, I found myself getting custom to the noise and lifestyle and lost in Goa's everyday life and fascinating culture. However, one aspect of India that is harder to get used to is its hot, humid and sticky climate: I don't know why I bothered taking a hair dryer and straighteners. Although it was winter, due to it being hot I forgot that it was Christmas time.

Ironically, on Christmas day, despite being in India, we had a Chinese. It was at a lovely road side restaurant where I could watch the world go by. A memory that I will never forget is tucking away on my egg fried rice and witnessing a rather large cow wandering down the street which then decided to stop right next to my table. It observed my food for several seconds then moved on to the restaurant next door; then if that wasn't odd enough, I felt a street dog brush against my legs which happened to be sat under my chair. Only in India will you dine with a cow and a dog. Other than the Christmas tree on the beach, it didn't feel like Christmas Day whatsoever. Boxing day was the day I had been looking forward to as this was the day I had Goa's famous elephant experience booked. Although I was excited, on arrival the harsh reality of the treatment of the elephants hit home and decreased my excitement. Colossal captivating creatures chained up like prisoners and made to do what the trainers told them.

Later in the evening, my mood lifted as I found myself swimming in a calm lukewarm lagoon surrounded by several playful gentle giants who, by their demeanour, were eager for their daily bathing ritual. Their ritual consisted of tourists or reserve workers rubbing their rough skin with a smooth pebble from the bed of the lagoon. They gradually strolled in our direction wading though the lagoon water: mesmerized, I watched the elephant chosen for our group as it rolled onto its side revealing to us its belly for us to wash. The joy in it's eyes and curved mouth presenting a smile mirrored my emotions: I was truly in my element as I waved my pebble over the elephants belly. Feeling it's rough skin with my other hand, my fingers were greeted by a long spiky sensation brushing against my finger. Am I the only one who didn't realise that elephants had hair? This stunned me and I was even more fascinated by these majestic creatures than I was before. Although I didn't (and still don't) agree with keeping the elephants in captivity, the bathing experience alone is one of my best memories to date.

If Goa has taught me anything, it's not to judge a book by its cover.