Anjuna and Palolem

Sooo.....Looks like I'm worse at this blogging thing than I am at getting out emails, I'll try to step it up.

We spent a few days tripping around Northern Goa on the scooter, not really aiming for anywhere, just turning where it felt right. One turn led us down a small dirt road where we found Mother Teresa's Roses House. It's a home that has 25 children living there, aged 4-13. These children aren't orphans, their single mothers gave birth to them in Mumbai, and although they were uncapable of caring for them, did not want to give them up for adoption. The members of Mother Teresa's Roses, a group that's supposed to care for homeless and sick adults, couldn't help but notice that there was nowhere for these women to go to help them raise their children; their only options being keep their babies on the streets or lose them completely, the latter often being forced upon them by most charity groups. They decided to set up a home enabling these women to raise their children off the streets. Soon though it became chaotic and crowded, with various age groups and needs under one roof, so they chose to move the school aged children into a new house that had been donated in Goa. There was no roof, only four walls, but everyone turned up to help piece this place together. The children now go to school and are learning English, their mothers, who are still in Mumbai working now, visit and phone them on their holidays.

I was driving the scooter and saw the sign for the house and thought I might as well stop in and see what's going on; I'm so glad that we did. There was a man working outside and he pointed us to the front door where a dog, later to be told his name was Scooby Doo, greeted us; Mother Lucy came out and invited us in. The children were very excited to have visitors, and kept calling us "madam." We were there for over an hour, reading, dancing, coloring. I couldn't believe how happy these children were, getting along very well and so polite! Soon I was completely exhausted and it was dinner time, so we bid our farewells and promised to be back soon...we kept that promise, returning the next day with talcum powder, soap, shampoo and a bit of a cash donation. Mother Lucy asked if we had a few minutes, and of course we did, so we sat and she told us the story of how the house came to be. What I've just told you is a much shortened version, and without the heartwrenching details, but as you can imagine, it was quite overwhelming. She told of the first woman they saw giving birth on a park bench and then pointed behind us to the small boy sitting on the floor, his head resting on an empty propane tank, asleep; he'd started it all. It's amazing to witness what an extended hand and love can accomplish, even in the most dire of circumstances.

While in Anjuna we also took Swami, the yogi we'd met at the market, up on his offer and rode down to Calangute, a town 15 km south for morning and evening sessions of yoga and meditation. After spending time in the meditation room I'd be so relaxed that I couldn't drive; I'd have to walk around town acclimating to the chaos again before getting on the bike to head home! If everyone did yoga there would be peace on earth.

We met some other backpackers around town and from our evening volleyball sessions; a few English, George, Josh and Renee and a Norwiegen guy, Vegar, who'd been further south on a beach called Palolem for a few weeks. It sounded nice so six of us hired a big Land Cruiser to take us the three hours south, costing each of us only 6 bucks! It got greener and greener the further south we went. Palolem is a beautiful long white sand beach with palm forests pushing right up behind the beach bungalows.

Our new crew headed towards one end of the beach and crossed a small river to a bar. We sat around, candles stuck in sand, under a clear starry night, drinking Kingfisher, a really, really bad beer that gives you even worse headaches, reminiscing over the past 12 hours we'd known each other. On our way home the small river had risen and now had a wide mouth; unsure of how deep it was we hired a boat to take us across; how convenient, the guy was just waiting for us, dumb tourists. Well turns out it was quite shallow; pretty sure the boat was plowing through sand the whole time, so we got out at the halfway point and walked. Only one of us got hung up getting out and hit the water, but somehow we all managed to get wet and sandy, which made for an uncomfortable sleep since we're saving rupees sleeping three to a bed.

The following day we got scooters again, man I love driving those things, and went in search of a more secluded beach. We found Agonda, and not a cow in sight! Another day spent rolling in the waves and building sand castles; life is good.