timewarp back several weeks to the former portuguese colony of Daman, where we sought to recuperate from the exaustion, lost weight and damaged eardrums of our Afghan incursion. This was also our location for part of operation: enduring flight.
I quote myself:
Quitting Ahmedebad we continued our way south towards celebrated Bombay, stopping just short of Bollywood at the former Portuguese colony of Daman. Established in 1535, they held on for 430 years before India, restless during a lull in Pakistani wars, unnecessarily bombed the airport and church before seizing the region. Coastal ocean zephyrs and a low population of 90,000 held appeal, as we tend to enjoy less wearisome and redundant experiences with the human element when we are off the major tourist routes - away from other europeans and the infrastructure/culture that inevitably develops to support/aggravate them.
Within the boundaries of "dry" Gujurat but not it's jurisdiction, Daman has the tourist appeal of coastal California, with the (relative) permissiveness of Las Vegas. Passing the police checkpoint into town is comparable to the state line seperating california and nevada; an assaul of garish embarrassing signs shamelessly offering the forbidden. Coming from across the state of Gujurat, Hindu (and Muslim) youths arrive to avail themselves of what is possibly the best selection, value, and quantity of alcohol India has to offer. While not quite the hippie-rave-vomit "scene" that is Goa to the south, it is unequivocally "pleasant," a popular destination for vacationing Indian families, pleasure seeking youth, and solitude questing American kiters.
A mellow walk through the old Portuguese villa empirically validated our assumptions as we were virtually ignored. Afternoon found us near the community hall, where several local youths invited us up to join them in drinking beer and flying kites on the roof. Convenient proximity provoked our first acceptance out of what have been many invtitations to cricket. An odd sport, there is a delicateness to it that belies the independence of indian identity from the colonial era. Whatever ridiculous and seemingly arbitrary rules seperate this from baseball entirely eluded us. Linguistic challenges and generally loos adherence prevented any further insight into game mechanics. What transpired was an arhythmic flurry lasting an hour or two, watched by chewing goats busy devouring the already undersized field.
get your booze on
can i make the same joke about the spelling again? Leprosy...what a timeless source of humour
The small fort of St. Jerome guarded the bay, the catholic theme and iconography a remnant of the Portuguese. Sitting around a table in this town taking libation with a Hindu, a (bad) Muslim, a Parsi, and a Catholic, leads one to suspect the mild climate fosters tolerance.
unwinding the nets. we tried to convince some fishermen to take us out on a boat and put us to work, i dont think they realized how serious we were, probably mistakenly attributing our request up to the Kingfisher
beached at high tide, the boats go out at night
somebody shoot me
although there was no trace of portuguese cuisine to rescue us from the monotany of indian food - architecture, music, and fashion were some of the lingering cultural detritus were to be found.
i couldn't agree more that all this part of the world (especially these apparently mellow, relatively strife-free beach residents), would benefit greatly from some modern convenience
exploring the old villas
The most affluent part of town was primarily inhabited by Muslim hotel and shopowners. Peculiar that the holy Koran's admonishments on the taking of the alcohol should not conversely apply to profiting from selling it to others.
India is very progressive - much of the hard labor is done by women. Good thing we 'crushed the taliban' now maybe they can get their women digging ditches post haste or better yet, mass graves for all the dead. okay i'll stop...
well it was no Melbourne Cricket Ground (that's what google tells me is a "world famous cricket ground") but it would have to do for our initiation into an international madness
okay, i'll try not to throw the bat, but i am not taking off my shoes...
the batters were encouraged to err to the left lest they hit a river "mudball" and be expected to retrieve it
some windbreaking trees along the sea. can anybody tell me what type of tree these are?
the arabian sea extended featurelessly from the brown beach
these gappy kid's dances were pretty awesome, SMTC was a little supernova
random train station sadhu.
Next stop: The lights of New London
