Created: 23rd of January
Updated: 19th of May
My first glimpse of India is, well, smog. From the airplane, the thick layer of pollution makes the surface barely visible. I'm landing in Mumbai before taking one last flight. I feel like I'm stuck in a ineffable void where time does not exist (that is, I'm tired). Bordering the airport are slums.
All the while, I'm questioning my choice—why did I come here?—but it's too late now. Exhausted, I pass through security again, fighting my way through, and make my last flight to Goa.
I still have to get to Agonda, where my accommodation awaits. The only way there is by taxi. I choose one provider at random at the airport, not really sure whether the prices are reasonable or not. Just that takes a bit of time—like most things in India, as I will see.
The trip is one and a half hours long, more than I expected. Roads are crowded and not always in good condition here, which means driving takes approximately three times longer than in Europe. This trip is among the scariest I've ever experienced. As if the fatigue and culture shock weren't enough, my driver seems very much in a hurry.
He swerves left and right to overtake, regardless of road marking, or the concept of safety distance. Everybody is honking almost all of the time, in what appears to be a way of communicating one's presence. This is needed because people don't really use their mirrors, and because of the ambient insanity of the road.
I've already experienced the mildly hectic roads of Thailand. It's no preparation for India. During the taxi trip, I must have felt about fifteen of these "oh sh** " moments, where I thought that somebody was going to be badly injured.
But I arrive at destination without anybody being hurt on the way, which is a relief. For the next four nights, I'm sleeping in a tiny bungalow. It's not exactly clean, but it's alright. After a meal on the beach, feeling completely lost and disconnected, I need to wait until the wee hours before I feel sleepy.
I planned nothing for these three days: just rest, get used to the mood, and get over jet-lag. I thought I knew what to expect of India, I had seen pictures and videos. But it's a very different thing to experience it first-hand.
This is the first thing I see, stepping out into the street:
The air is hot and humid. People come and go, mostly riding scooters. Some cows and dogs roam freely. I can smell some ineffable odors. Trash is omnipresent, although there's not that much here.
Even in a quiet and touristic place like here, the contrast between misery and wealth are striking. In a way, it doesn't feel right for me to be here. How can I just stand here while some people are living like that?
The beach is quite nice and long, and surprisingly clean. (I later notice that, in the evening, some women with baskets on their heads walk along the shore and pick-up the trash.)
On a walk, a young Indian man starts a conversation. He lives in Delhi, but thanks to his remote job, he's taking a week-long break here. He says I should visit the north, and that I should try to bargain for most things.
The "good thing" about pollution is that I can go out without sunscreen. Look at the sun setting into the smog...
That's right. Agonda is quite the peaceful and tourist-friendly place, for India. I take a taxi (bargaining as much as I can) to reach the small city (read: 100k inhabitants) of Margao. My plan is to take the train the next day, in order to visit Hampi, where the ruins of a 16-century city lie.
On the plus side, my driver is much more careful than the last. On the other side, I have my first glimpse into an India city. To spend the night, I chose the Coastal Pearl Hotel, near the train station. The hotel is rated 4.6 on Google Maps, and costs about 30€ per night (not cheap).
But what I find myself in is a dirty room, with humidity stains and cracks on the walls. The kettle is disgusting and the sofa repulsively sticky... but hey, the bed linen is fine and the AC works. Two thing that I will learn about India are:
But that's all fine, the bed is comfy, and WiFi works. Next: let's go to the city center to find a SIM card (which I haven't been able to get up to this point) and take a look around. Walking on the main street is... anything but boring. There's no sidewalk, just a lot of traffic and a lot of fumes. People don't walk unless they have to, everybody prefers to take a car or a scooter (understandably). Trash everywhere, buildings looking unsafe...
At the telecom shop, I'm asked for my passport, visa and two Indian contact numbers before I can get a sim card. I don't have these with me, of course... At this point, my idea of taking a look around the city doesn't sound so good, so I just go back to my hotel. It is not easy to describe adequately what I feel then. A deep uneasiness because of the living conditions, mixed with stress from the utter chaos outside.
In the evening, I'm going to a restaurant 500m away. It's not a long way at all, but enough to see a lot of things. Here's a typical scene: animals (usually dogs or cows) roaming over a ground entirely covered by wastes, looking for food.
I arrive at the avenue along the train station. There, simple stalls, run by people who probably don't own a hundredth of what I have. I see thin people, some worn out by the harsh conditions, some sleeping right on the ground. On the edge of this constant flow of vehicles, the heat and pollution are suffocating.
After what seemed like more than five minutes, there's the restaurant, with its mediocre storefront and blinking garlands. I step in. The contrast is striking: the AC, the quiet, the well-dressed men at the reception, the tables set and neatly arranged... Every time, stepping in or out of a building feel like entering another universe.
Sitting at the table, I remain with a blank stare for a moment, trying to process all that stimuli.
I order the restaurant's specialty, that turns out to be very similar to what I have already eaten these past few days. I'm starting to get tired of all the greasy food. The waiter occasionally serves me a few spoonfuls of the dish, it's... awkward.
Back at the hotel, I realize that actually, Agonda was a paradise. Call me sensitive (and I very well might be) but this experience made me change my plans. I don't have the will to go through two weeks of this alone.
I'll be meeting my friends sooner than expected.
Read part 2.
