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April 28, 2007
Day
Seven
Continuing in Goa
Not
sure what happened but I ended up sleeping till
11:30. The night before I’d been up till 2:30.
Still, that kind of sleeping is odd for me.
Everyone else was still out. I don’t know what
time Kabir and Naushad came in.
I
wrote for about two hours – jotting down notes
for the movie and designing a few swim workouts,
then made good on the promise to myself. I went
to the pool side and enjoyed a bit of sun
tanning. When it’s 37 degrees it doesn’t take
too long before you feel well done. I exercised
some caution and retired to the shade of my room
within twenty minutes.
It
was almost eight in the evening before Naushad
and Kabir managed to get up get something to eat
and prepare themselves to meet what was left of
the day. We had planned to find a market to do
some souvenir shopping, then Kabir and I were to
revisit the gym. Afterwards a meal and we’d
decide what to do with what remained of the
evening. But it was getting too late for any of
that so Naushad came up with another plan – he
and Kabir would go back to the casino while DJ
and I did some exploring of our own. We decided
that it’d be nice to find some quiet little bar
somewhere.
Naushad
dropped us off in what a appeared to be a busy
section of town and we walked about looking for
a place to rest our elbows. While the place was
busy it wasn’t an area to find a bar.
We
asked a well dressed young man sitting beside
one of the many confection stands that decorate
this country, where two guys might find a bar to
enjoy a few beers. “Not around here,” he said
and we believed him. He said we would have to
go to Baga Beach. It was too far to walk and
the young fellow said the cabs would rape us if
we weren’t careful. He volunteered to take us
in his car – a very clean Mazda, for 450
rupees. That’s about $13 and the trip was
twenty minutes. We took up his offer and he
provided a pleasant ride with some interesting
conversation. Faizal, it turns out, was a
structural engineering student, educated in
Dubai. While he was finishing up his final
“papers” he was living in Goa, making ends meet
with his two vehicles. He rented them out to
people and hired himself out as a driver now and
again. He paid the bank 100 rupees ($3.50) a
day for his car loans and he made about $6,000
rupees ($180) a month from them in the off
season and close to $20,000 ($600) during the
peak seasons. Before doing that he was working
for Siemens on an assembly line. He worked from
eight in the morning till six in the evening,
six days a week. He made $2,500 rupees a month
on that job – about $75. He figured his car
business was a better way to make a living. DJ
and I agreed with him.
He
dropped us off in a charming little district and
before going into one of the many bars littering
the area we did a bit of shopping. DJ picked up
a pair of Armani glasses and a Brietling watch
for $20. What a deal!
We
had a good dinner and few beers at a place
called Titos. There were more than a few
tourists in the place and they all seemed to
enjoy the fire dancing show and an Indian Elvis
who got up and did a few songs.
From
there we jumped into a cab, under the advice of
our waiter, and drove about ten minutes to a
place called Club Cabana. This driver was
another one of these mad man hacks that kept you
white knuckled in the back seat.
At
one point a small dog had the bad sense of
timing to wander out on the road in front of
him. He had plenty of time to stop but within a
few heartbeats it was clear he had no intention
of doing so. He was clearly going to run over
the animal. My friends will testify, when I
lose my temper I lose it quick and fiercely. I
shouted to the man that if he hit that dog I was
going thrash him. DJ took a more direct
approach and kicked the guy firmly in the
shoulder from the back seat. DJ has long legs.
The
guy was flummoxed. “It’s just a dog!”
DJ
told the guy there would be no dog killing while
we were in the car. The guy shook his head like
we were retarded and carried on driving, but a
little more cautiously.
I
was starting to get concerned about this club
when the driver drove past the city limits and
into a rural area. There were no lights
anywhere and the road degenerated into a narrow
dirt path. DJ and I exchanged nervous glances.
Was this guy plotting some revenge for out
intervention on behalf of the dog. Suddenly the
driver hooked a hard right up a driveway etched
deep out of the red earth of Goa. We wended our
way a mile up the hill and their out of the
darkness was one of the strangest sights I seen
since coming to this country – a vast night club
etched out of the side of the rocky hill.
Faizal was right. The cab driver charged us
$500 to take us there. He’d driven for half the
time Faizal had and refused to turn on the AC.
We gave the driver his $500 and would later
learn that the club also gave him $200 for each
person he brought up there. They could afford
to do so because the cover to get into the place
was 900 rupees ($30) but all the drinks were
free. That would end up working out to $450 a
beer in my case.
This
club would have fit into any Hollywood scene
I’ve ever been to. It had three outdoor levels
that you moved between via large stone steps.
Miniature lights were strung amongst the trees
and torches cast shaky images everywhere.
The
bottom level sported a heart shaped swimming
pool surround by massive Cleopatra beds that
guests sprawled out on.
The
second level had tables and looked like a café
of sorts. This was the most crowded area.
The
top level was an enclosed glass front area.
Inside was a dance floor. I assumed it was
closed in for air conditioning purposes but when
we entered that clearly was not the case. It
had to be forty in that room. We walked in and
walked out.
There were probably three hundred people in the
whole place. There was room for twice that
many. There were about a dozen white people in
the lot. It’s kind of interesting to always be
the minority. I quite enjoy it. The majority
of the people, I would estimate were Indian
men. Maybe 80%. This was a statistic that
didn’t thrill DJ too much and we elected to call
it a night.
The
cab driver charged us 600 rupees to take us
home.
And to LS – happy
birthday. Wish I’d been there. The best is yet
to come. |
