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My blogging so far has very much been an online diary of my daily travels, doing different things every day and documenting my trip in a timeline of sorts. Now I'm in Goa I've realised that this is absolutely not going to work. I've been here for over two weeks now and it's all blurred into one, I wake up in the morning and literally don't know what day it is. So my new strategy is to be more topical, with today's subjects being the police, piercings and living in a jungle.
As far back as I can remember (we've been coming to India since I was 12) the police in Goa have been total [insert the worst swear word you can think of here] _______s. Corrupt bullies with too much authority and not enough respect who literally behave however they like, no matter how unreasonable it is. I've heard all kinds of stories: people being dragged into alleys and beaten for refusing to pay huge fines for owning a bar, sellers having their goods and earnings taken from them without grounds, generally just behaviour that would be deemed completely illegal back home. I've had my run ins with the police before (I had a huge argument on the beach a few years ago when they pushed a Goan performer woman to the ground and confiscated her kit in front of me, knocking her baby to the ground in the process - I went MENTAL and they eventually gave her her things back and b*****ed off) but in the last year or so, I've not really noticed them. This all changed when Mohamed and I headed off on the bike to pick up some sandwiches a couple of days ago. Every few days, the police set up barriers at certain junctions around North Goa and pull over 'certain' drivers for 'checking'. We apparently fell into this category and were immediately pulled over and told to remove the keys from the bike and give them to the officer. Mohamed didn't have his licence on him so we were given the option of a) paying the 1,500 rupee fine and going on our way (like hell) or b) letting them confiscate the bike (again, like hell). Mohamed's thankfully a lot calmer than me and he tried to convince them to let him go on the bike to collect his licence (leaving me with them as well as some kind of down payment in case he did one) but they refused and said we just had to pay the fine - which is the equivalent of about £20. I should point out that these fines are completely baseless, the money isn't documented anywhere when they take it from you and it's just a quick and easy way for the police to make some extra cash. You can imagine how much this made me want to RIP OFF THEIR FACES. I was trying to stay out of it but when Mohamed asked a different policeman if he was able to fetch his licence his response was that the fine was 1,950 rupees and we had no option but to pay it. I think my words were "the least you can do is agree the amount of your made up fines with your mates over there!" - this did not go down very well. Women have a tough enough time here being respected by authority figures and my interaction with the police was no different - he refused to even look at me when I questioned him about the fine, the legitimacy of the fine and on what grounds they had for even stopping us in the first place. I looked around at this point and couldn't help but notice that EVERY SINGLE PERSON being stopped was European whilst Indian drivers (even those with more than two people on a bike) were being whisked through and even given directions to help them on their way. It was completely ridiculous, massively biased in only targeting non-Indians and totally unacceptable. Mohamed is Moroccan, has a sleeve tattoo and a ring in his lip so we were stopped because he's different and obviously some kind of hippie (which couldn't be further from the truth), another group were from Nepal, a couple of Russians on superbikes, the list goes on. That being true, it didn't change the fact that without paying something we wouldn't be going anywhere (actually if I'd carried on the way I was going I'd have been leaving in the back of the police van for verbally assaulting a police officer or something!) so after some fierce negotiations we left after paying 500 rupees. I have to admit that it could have potentially ruined my day but eventually I just accepted that this is how things work here and it's not going to change so I'll just have to try harder to deal with it in future - and possibly in a less psychotic angry girl fashion - lesson learned for today, yelling at police officers in India (even when you're in the right) doesn't do you any favours at all.
After the incident with the police (having sufficiently calmed down) we set off to Anjuna market. Laura's never been before so we took the boat over - it's only a twenty minute trip from Baga beach to Anjuna beach on the boat so it's much more fun than a forty minute taxi ride by road. I've never been to Goa in November before so it was a treat to see Anjuna market at the start of the season, it was so quiet compared to December, you actually had room to move, to look at the stalls, to take it all in. It really was a completely different experience to every other time I've visited the market before (which must be dozens of times by now) and I really enjoyed it. Both Laura and I are working on our negotiating skills - Laura's a newbie and I'm just rubbish at it - but I think we did quite well. Or at least I thought we had until we returned to the bar at the centre of the market (if you hadn't already guessed, that's where dad, Tor and Mo were spending the afternoon) and were told that we'd paid about double what we should have. I had to disagree with them at this point. I was discussing the whole bartering issue with Laura and I've come to the conclusion that the aim isn't really to get the price as low as possible, it should be to pay a price you're happy with. A stall holder isn't going to sell you something unless it's a good price for them but the profit they make can range ridiculously depending on the customer (for example, my mum has a stall at the markets here and she's had the same items sell for £15 and £80) it all depends on what the customer is willing to pay. If you decide what you want to pay for it and manage to get a price as close to that as possible then you've done well and everyone is happy. Whilst at the market we bumped in Sandy, a Croatian woman that my mum has known for years. She's a tattoo artist and piercer (she pierced Tor's and my nose years ago) and she's very very cool. I was discussing getting a second hole pierced in each of my ears but I'll confess that I was very nervous about it as I'm not good with needles at the best of times and the last time I had a piercing at the market in India I had to lie down for the best part of half an hour in front of crowds of people which was beyond humiliating. This being the case you can imagine my relief when Sandy suggested that she come to the house the next day to do it so I'd be more comfortable. Tor and Laura had already headed to the beach when she arrived but I had Mo there to hold my hand (plus he also acted as the photographer for the event). I figured everyone should be able to see the reality of me getting pierced without any kind of numbing at all - no ice, no freezing, just plain old grin and bear it. The photos really do demonstrate how I coped with the whole thing - started off smiling, needle through the first ear, smiling, jewellery through, still smiling, needle through the second ear, still smiling but the colour from my lips has drained completely, still smiling, jewellery in, I'm officially grey now and look positively drunk to tell the truth, still smiling, ears are done, a few gulps of sugar water later I'm pepped, pierced and back to normal! No fainting, no crying and aside from a slight colour change an absolute success I think!
Piercings and arguing with the police aside, the rest of my time lately has been spent in the jungle that is Tor's garden. Both Tor and Laura are OBSESSED with frogs and lizards and manage to find them everywhere. Tor and Mo have already got three dogs, two cats, a cockerel and four chickens but the rest of the garden is home to so many creatures you can't even imagine, tree frogs of all colours, lizards (even baby iguanas!), chipmunks, butterflies - all of which are lovely and we take picture after picture of these awesome creatures. However, the garden is also home to some less 'lovely' creatures - spiders, ants, snakes and giant flying beetles. We met massive beetle a few evenings ago when it flew at us whilst relaxing on the terrace - Laura and I couldn't have moved fast enough, running inside the house to get away from it. It was literally three inches long which doesn't even sound that big - it has to be seen to be believed. Luckily it managed to knock itself out on the wall (lucky for us, not so much for the bug, especially when Toulouse the cat decided he wanted to eat it) so I grabbed my camera and got some pretty close up disgustingly graphic photographs of it, including Mohamed picking it up! I should clarify that the beetle did come round and we sent it back off into the night, relatively unscathed and definitely not eaten by Tor's cats.
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