Goa trance

I was sitting in a travel office, reluctantly finding out about trains and buses for my next move. A girl runs in, australian, panting, and says to the woman behind the desk, "I'm supposed to leave in half an hour. My bags are all packed, and I was on the way to the station. I don't want to leave. Is it too late to change my ticket?". The travel agent doesn't bat an eyelash, and shakes her head left and right, the way only indians do. "No problem, this happens all the time".

I've come out of silence, out of the hills, out of what turned into 10 hours a day of yoga. Alot happened in there, but that's for another time. I've found myself a little grass hut on the beach for a whopping 5 bucks a night. I hear the sea all the time, the beach is small and tide high when I go to sleep and when I wake up, and like a desert in the afternoons when the tide is out. I have a chai and papaya or chico, with cashews and mint, maybe a lassi. Then I walk for hours and hours and there doesn't seem to be an end to the coast that I can't get around. I just walk and swim and nap and walk, make friends, hang out, walk swim...and the day disappears. Had a bad case of the runs (must've been all those lentils the night before) and tried to go in the ocean because it was a major emergency, but found that I couldn't do it. Probably for the best really- that could've been a bad scene. Then, I usually take the scooter into town around sunset, takes me about an hour or so to get to computers and dinner and phones. I've made some good friends, and can see how this seasonal life happens, and this community of people who know each other when they are free and tan..and forget each others existence come monsoon. And it's all the same story, first coming here for 2 months, then the next season 6, then 8, then building houses in a tree or a cliff somewhere in Goa.

At the market today in Anjuna, I couldn't buy anything. I got lost in the orange saris and star anise, tumeric, masala, drum sellers, the tibetan corner, the wooden snakes, the samosas, goa trance cd stands...I just wandered on and on. I did give the finger to some guy who went "hello madam, you like my shop, you just see, no buy, you no like me, me I like your boobs". I had all these stories, of who I met at this place and that amazing thing that happened that day, and the crowds of people in the water with umbrellas and flowers, and carnaval when everyone was covered in dye and mud...but somehow everything escapes me at the moment.
Maybe I really am here?