Objective reality is a fascist concept

And as a fascist realist I do not fit in on the beach. I can't but humour, at best, the proponents of various long standing human delusions. On the beach these include a complex mixture of religion, superstition, social theory, agricultural theory and alternative medicine. I can't accept it, that different things are "true for some people". I'm not the arbiter of reality, but I'm pretty sure that it exists, and the objective form, is singular. The alternative people, so attractive as an escape from the strict system, will include the group incapable of accepting any system. They form not just their own 'system', but their own logic and truths. Anecdotal evidence and the results of our own deductive logic or fancies of understanding are very persuasive. Throw in some agreeable concepts such as fighting against a general conspiracy proposed by multinational corporations, and the conformity with your alternative peers, and it must be overpowering.

Medicine is perhaps my greatest pain; each day you will hear a new practice attested as the recipe for perfect health. I'm going to avoid using the term alternative too much, as this is a clever use of language by those who seek to condemn therapies which differ from the standard. The term 'alternative' unfairly groups any medical theory which has yet been proven with those which have been generally disproved. It is misleading to suggest that any medicine which works ceases to be alternative, as it is adoption by healthcare providers which determines the standard. There have been cases where eventually the alternative is recognised. I believe acupuncture is one, but don't cite me. Herbal medicine is not alternative medicine. There are many established herbal remedies, such as camomile or valerian root, and many drugs which mimic chemicals present in ancient herbal cures. Untested herbal medicine is alternative medicine. At best this is believable when treating non-specific pain, or stimulating the immune system. If you want a potential mechanism of action, the latest research in cancer treatments seem to be based on using the immune system to attack cancer, as is part of it's natural function.

The medical theories are many. The evidence is commonly close experience, the cure of an uncle, an aunt or friend. An even more common reason in fact seems to be 'it works for me'. I'm taking colloidal silver and I have been healthy ever since, therefore it must work. I was sick, and I got better, this cure is proven. But what about colloidal silver for example, can it offer any benefits. As a treatment which was long-established in the pre-anti-biotic era, and an element known to work in vitro, what is the conclusion of medical science. No, no it doesn't work. No conclusion can be absolute, especially in a complex ecosystem like the gut, but the general opinion is in: It's a load of utter bollocks. I've met a few descendants of homeopaths, who are tempting evolutionary principles by appearing in rather good health. Unfortunately I can't spare the time even to rubbish Homeopathy, it's not just utter bollocks, it's proven to be utter bollocks. Sadly, homeopaths have their own para-scientific journals which equally prove that it is the cure to all diseases. It's worth stating in full the flaw in the all too common "it works for some people" defense. These some people must be considered in proportion to those who were not helped by the treatment. This ratio will give the efficacy, which must then be compared against the expected number of people who would have recovered without treatment, ideally under controlled conditions. (Except if there was a diagnostic criteria for determining who would benefit from alternative medicine, excepting gullibility).

The trouble is, I've seen this somewhere else. This is the world described in the fiction of 'George Elliot', in 'Middlemarch', a book published mid 19th century but describing a world closer to the beginning of that century. The tale includes the strife of a young science-following doctor, working against a culture of superstition and crackpot medical theories. The book details the man's struggle against a profession where payment is made per potion delivered by the doctor-pharmacists of the time. But we have not escaped, enter the world of Ayurveda and a total lack of principle. Ayurveda is a traditional medicine which mixes herbal cures with theories on the 'Doshas', a term difficult to define as elements, spirits, energy or state. While Ayurvedic medicine is available for purchase separately from pharmacists, many of the 'ayurvedic doctors' in tourist areas at least, also sell the medicines prescribed. One of the more extreme treatments, a 'cleansing' known as Panchakarma, is sold for large sums of money by doctors willing to provide what foreign patients are seeking. The charge is perhaps 20,000 INR (200GBP), equivalent to two months wages. There is unsurprisingly no shortage of doctors and clinics willing to provide this treatment. Then there are the blood purifying pills, available at any good Ayurvedic pharmacy, exactly as proscribed to the fictional villagers in 'Middlemarch'. Something about the idea of purifying the blood is attractive through the centuries, it's a subset of a greater fear. A poison we cannot touch, taste, or clean away invading our bodies. Think of the innate fear of radiation or chemical contaminants. Dr. Strangelove was right, it's all about our precious bodily fluids.

The anti-politicals don't want to hear about politics or economics. To them it's all part of the system, all politicians are corrupt, it's not interesting. But their disbelief in the impossibility of progress is the very thing which gives politicians the power to act unchecked. It's tempting in the face of complexity and a system which seems entirely dishonest to turn away and condemn it, isn't it so damn fashionable to say "they're all corrupt". But if you make this lazy generalisation you don't hold anyone to account. A servile political system relies on the scrutiny and differentiation of the actions of politicians, public interest and debate. If you can't handle a duty to be involved in the shaping of the world don't hold your head high when saying it. Damn alternatives, at least vote Green. Economics, oh economics is a lie, another part of the system. Economics describes the relative affordability of grain. In the last 5 years rising grain prices killed large numbers of people and toppled governments. Economic situations contributed to the rise of the far right in Europe, now, and in the past. Economics exists, what you don't like is the ruthless free-market capitalist system, which is fair enough.

Miracle cures and foods: Eat 5 pomegranates, 3 neem pills, 2 cloves of garlic, some spirulina (the 1974 world convention food of the future, as proudly boasted by it's hippy cult manufacture: Auroville), a live newt... etc...

Permaculture, the latest hippie theory on agriculture. Permaculture suffers from being an agglomeration of techniques and a refuge for it's sustainability seeking followers. It's hard to disagree with on the grounds that most of it's individual points are hard to disagree with. Permaculture targets sustainability, yes the concept has a single source if you wondered about the almost brand-like name. But it's methods are a mixture of the tested and perfectly agreeable, and various others with questionable proof as to their efficiency. It's hard to disagree with organic farming, which in theory does less harm to both consumers and wildlife, and I'm willing to remove a maggot when I find it. Reducing the carbon intensity is clearly a positive goal in farming. But the theory extends these basic principles with various other ideas which have yet to bear fruit. Clearing forest for farmland has resulted in terrible consequences in many continents, but the reactionary approach of no-tilling isn't necessarily backed by evidence. The idea that a permanent culture of sympathetic plants could survive ignores the dynamic nature of ecosystems. It's so wonderful to hear that certain plant combinations repel pests, but does it actually work? My biggest disagreement with Permaculture has to do with the reality of bulk nutrients. Crops remove Nitrogen, Phosphorus and Potassium from the soil, and no number of drum circles or geometric arrangement of plants can replace this. The ideal answer is a composting toilet, which is adopted in the very far north of India. But as many westerners prefer home water toilets, I will be sure to redirect the needed quantities of raw sewage in the direction of permaculture proponents.

Perhaps I can learn from the alternative real of the beach. At the end of one rambling and disconnected discussion on the solution to it all, a conclusion that the solution was to teach empathy.
An RSA animated short on empathy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l7AWnfFRc7g

I don't like it

Another treasure trove of negative reviews of Om Beach, this time for the beach in general. Lets start with the subject of the awful 'day-trippers', who dare to visit the hippy paradise for only a few hours. One Delhi resident utterly condemns this group as "the kind of tourists who come for a few hours dip their feet in the water and leave". Another Indian tourist takes the complaints against 'local tourists' further. Local doesn't mean Indian, local means that kind of local.

"... noisy beer drinking tourists from nearby towns, who comes on weekend to watch sunbathing bikini clad Hippies to take pictures slyly, having them in background. Some over enthusiastic local tourists, wants pictures to put the hand in the neck of you to take back the souvenir home".

The final level, elevating local to figurative use of the N-word, is reached by a reviewer from Pune. His review is titled "Unclean Beach and Disgusting Locals".

"The beach in itself is beautiful and amazing. what spoils the scenery is the untidy shore where the localites who visit the beach, throw their garbage. This makes the beach untidy. Moreover, there are some groups of localites, specially males, who unnecessarily try to make conversation with the foreigners there. They derive pleasure out of this which is disgusting and makes it uncomfortable for the tourists. It was totally disgusting...just shameless people."

He has captured my feelings exactly; it's the sense of shame which is missing. But this isn't universal, and he seems to be feeling more than his fair share of shame for the behaviour of others.

As the beach is popular with young people, the reviews "Not with Family" are obvious. Many parents worldwide would not want their children exposed to drinking, drug use, and the most dangerous of all role models, heterosexual couples holding hands. Other Indian tourists, as seems to be a trend, take issue with both things which cannot be changed and the fact this is not 'the city', with full amenities, street lighting and road access. There were "No street lights to walk towards the beach", also disappointingly a complaint by a London tourist, because nature be damned. I was prevented from experiencing the magical bioluminescent plankton last night exactly because of the light pollution. There were also "no restuarants open where a 4 wheeler can reach". "The road leading to Gokarna is a nightmare and is totally a devastating experience for peson who is driving", but perhaps in the rainy season there may have been a few potholes. In Nepal this road would be in better condition than many parts of the East-West Highway, Highway 1. One Bangalore resident complained that the sea was too muddy, but thankfully we now know that his toes were safely protected from such a menace. Another Bangalore resident complains of Om Beach that "You cant even swim here because the beach is quite rocky", somehow missing the 800m of smooth sand known as 'Om Beach'.

"I did not want to go to Israel" says the Brit from Brighton, mixing his opinions on what he didn't like. Apparently the pretentious people of the beach have driven him back to Agonda, Goa, which is "a hundred times better". I perfectly agree, and as he clearly belongs in Goa maybe he can spread the message to his like minded friends. Curiously about half of all the Brits on Om Beach come from Brighton. This small city is disproportionately represented on the beach, some aspect of it's culture leads its open-minded residents to explore India. These friendly easy-going people make the beach at times almost a Brighton social gathering.

But what about a Sydney couple who stayed on the beach, in one of my favourite lodges: Dolphin Bay. They complain about the rats. I must point out that the rats are a feature of Dolphin Bay, and I would still recommend the place. This situation particularly arises due to the absence of cats, due in turn to the pet fancy pigeons. Apparently the staff don't care about anything except the money. I don't think they care about anything after working 80 hour weeks for 4 months. Have some consideration for the staff. "I'm sure there is nicest beaches around"... native English speakers aren't allowed that one.

The trace of bias is still there, 'hedge-hiker' from India comments "However, it is tough to get accomodation here (especially if you are an Indian!) Also, most places to stay here are dingy and dirty."

Eventually, something has to snap

So some 60 people had the sense to complain about police harassment in Gokarna.

http://www.bangaloremirror.com/bangalore/cover-story/200-foreigners-accuse-Gokarna-cops-of-brutal-assault-at-V-Day-party/articleshow/30633255.cms

The elephant in the room

The coast guard boat waves us back to land, but mistaking this for the usual small dictator behaviour we tread water watching the scene for a little longer. A tourist boat runs out to join them and they spend many minutes discussing something. The tourist boat eventually returns, but it is trailing a rope into the water. As it gets closer a bulge in the surface is visible at the end of the rope, some red clothing, a body. The bulge moves through the water, now just behind the swimming tourists, and up to the shore where the boat has landed. It remains here lying in the surf, dressed for a few evenings before in shorts and t-shirt, skin white and purple. There is a small crowd of police officers and concerned persons, but with time this group begins to disperse and make phone calls. The body is left alone, it lies in the surf, moored by a rope tied to an electricity post at the top of the beach. The Indian tourists have gone. The western tourists slowly return to the water, at first at the far end of the beach, and then closer.

The English are coming

"Has anyone noticed Jennings hasn't done the jump yet". The five lads who have made camp on the top of the jumping rock, above the reservoir at Hampi, seem excited. They briefly argue over who is smoking all of the spliff, but examine themselves and conclude that such an argument fits a younger age. It's decided that each should smoke their own. The lack of ketamine is mentioned, and... with little shock... they have brought music. I think I will let them off, fade out to the Rolling Stones - under my thumb.

The pressure is off

It's not peak season any more and a number of Indian tourists are staying on the beach. Doubt and debate can slowly subside, the awkward rules have been relaxed. The lodges have done their work, and you will see mostly young Indian couples who have come not to be judged for those most unnatural of relations, heterosexual contact.

What makes South India different

I'm in Karnataka, one of the southern states, and in rural areas it seems that women don't exactly have many opportunities. But it's about the laughter and smiles as we arrange the shared rickshaw so I am not technically next to a local girl, even separated by a person sized gap.

When you're unwanted

I know the feeling of being unwelcome. It's the most crushing thing in the world, and this combined with an idle search has led me to consider some Indian reactions to the apparent 'No Indians' policy of Gokarna beach. At the time not much reaction is visible, the lodges make excuses and it's only afterwards that the policy is clear; "No room for Indians eh". Tripadvisor, after some internal doubt over whether this is really one word, appears to be a great source for frustrated reactions. The largest (and most welcoming to Indians) lodge on the beach has a presence on this website, simply browse the 'terrible' reviews. This lodge was the base of the Indian group which made such wonderful small talk with the Swiss ladies, as described in table seats seven. Some of the reviews pick out the apparently discriminatory policy:

"Disaster if you are Indian"
"Good for few bad for some, If you are an Indian you are not Welcome!!!"

"so arrogant they denied to serve us"

Before diving into these complaints its worth noting that the majority of the bad reviews, even among Indian tourists, are for the offensively lazy staff and poor cleanliness. As a traveller in India you generally become accustomed to quite low standards, lower than middle class Indian families would accept at least. New travellers, especially Americans, are shocked by what they find. Myself I have become tolerant of holes in rooms, dirty sheets, ants, cockroaches, snakes, rats and so on. Even Europeans are a bit shocked by this place though, which has clearly relied on it's positioning as the first hotel on the beach. As far as food goes, many high quality restaurants in South India are pure vegetarian, while restaurants serving foreigners cater to all tastes where possible. This means they include meat dishes (a kitchen which handles meat is considered dirty by some Indians), and fall foul of the saying trying to be a jack of all culinary trades. One noteworthy reviewer from the United States complained, mid list, about the cow feces on the beach. If ever when there was a welcome to India moment, it's the presence of cows.

So for tackling the experiences of the customers who picked up on the bias, what did they find. For one a complaint that they were refused a table. The excuse was that 'the Russians are coming', because the lodges can never say you are not welcome directly. The man suggests that this is because the foreigners pay a good tip and that the bias is as a result of foreigners money, and that the policy is racist. This is an interesting reaction, that because he was willing to tip he should be welcome (entitled is a loaded word). In this case he could simply be arguing that because he was as equally willing to pay he should be equally welcome. But it is in danger of supporting the view that money gives you the right to be somewhere, not that this is specifically Indian, think George Orwell on poverty in 'Keep the Aspidistra Flying'. There are doubts, as I and many other international travellers have never tipped on Gokarna beach. But the reviewer might be correct about the atmosphere at the restaurant. An Australian reviewer has also stated that customers are just seen with dollar signs above their heads, and that they felt the atmosphere unpleasant. In the end part of the story is missing, 'travelled with friends' doesn't mention the gender of the friends, but lets assume they were men.

Next a complaint which gets straight to the point, how would people feel if treated like this in their own country. Well, instead I would suggest that if I went to a restaurant that catered almost exclusively for Chinese diaspora and behaved insensibly of their cultural rules I might not be so welcome, even if nothing was said. In this case the pressure is social, and unspoken. But this complainant is smart, he uses words outside my normal vocabulary. He hits the nail on the head, why don't they just write a sign which says 'no seats for Indians' to save the time. Because you can't say it, openly. When questioned the restaurant staff 'shamelessly' state that the tables are reserved for foreigners.

Three disappointed Indian reviewers notable for their expectation of higher standards. Clearly if you've scrambled to raise yourself in the money hierarchy you don't want to be thrown back into the dirt for the sense of adventure. I'm rather used to dirt, torn mosquito nets, and unreliable power; but it was enough to drive one of these groups away entirely. Indian tourists generally want to eat North Indian food, where as the restaurants on Om Beach have only a token selection of this range, often outnumbered by Israeli dishes. I have heard tell from an Indian friend that on bus trips around Europe Indian tourists will be followed by a minivan carrying an Indian chef and supplies, now that is adventurous. Another review complaining about the cleanliness of the rooms, but including the key line about refusal of service. I have to admit it looks pretty poor to accept people renting cottages and then refuse them in your restaurant.

The booking issue is complex. An Indian group complained that their booking, made a week before, did not exist on arrival. Hotel staff said they had no contact with the group, but this isn't the full story. About the same time a European tourist had the same experience, as there is one of each review I wouldn't so far suggest denying bookings on arrival constitutes a policy. On a similar subject a reviewer has proved his fine intellect with this accusation of inconsistency. It parallels one of my favourite complaints, found on an online forum to Indian Railways, shortened to the following "The current reservation counter would not sell me an advance reservation".

"i had been calling them for the past one month that i need an advance reservation specially during the Independence Day Week holiday. they asked me to book 1 week in advance and before that they were not willing to take the reservation. just one week before when i called they informed that all rooms have been booked... This hotel's management does not know how to keep its words."

But these are only the most negative reviews, many Indian tourists rate the resort more highly. At least 3 times as many Indian tourists rate the resort at Average, generally restrained by the poor standards of cleanliness and high prices. There are some factors to put this number in perspective, the positive reviewers have arrived off season when the number of foreign tourists is very low, and they are paying higher rates. In some cases 5 times what foreigners pay mid-season further down the beach. This Hotel is known for charging higher rates, but is also justified using the duration of stay rule, see Rishikesh pricing last year. One reviewer noted that foreigners were charged lower prices on account of staying at least 1 week. Indian tourists often spend one or two nights at a Hotel, and almost always including a Sunday.

So Indian reviewers had different experiences. But at least one of the positive (if average can be considered so) reviews was for a visit in January, peak season for the beach. Those rejected have perceived this attack as racist, but is it a quick assessment of the make up of the group and their potential behaviour. Isn't every man a potential pest. I've met some quite assertive Swedish women... but not close. If I am rejected, what in my behaviour makes me unwelcome. Am I so certain I deviate from the stereotype which has led to this rule. Am I going to be pressuring Swiss girls to drink after playing Hitlers apologist.

Embracing the local culture

Travelling hippies can often be found embracing the local culture of somewhere. This weeks activity seems to be constructing Indian American Indian dream catchers, before a didgeridoo session around the fire. Chillum (an Indian pipe for smoking marijuana) is unsurprisingly popular.

Fire Hazards

Some behaviours at the night time beach fires (best between 11pm and 3am) are more welcome than others. It's all wonderful and hippy and free, so instead people vote with their bums or silent contempt. On the whole it's a nice atmosphere and a laid back way to spend the night. All the lodges have closed and this is the public social scene.

Don't join a fire and then throw an extra log you didn't buy onto the fire. Ask permission, it's polite.

Joining a fire and then making conversation in a language the hosts don't understand. The odd comment is OK, too much private conversation is a little bit rude. Making conversation in this other language across the middle of the fire is right out.

Arriving at the fire and talking too much, or not talking enough. In extremes, not talking can be at best moody, and talking too much about trivia can be taxing. How many times must a man recount the country he is from, and the duration of his stay.

You could ask permission to join the fire, but is it necessary. It seems polite, but everyone is too polite to say no. You're just obliging them to welcome you. It's clear you should be welcomed with open arms, but then who says groups of men aren't regarded with some suspicion. There is an element of sexual competition, and the atmosphere changes when single women are present. It was said in honesty by a Spanish man after the last women had left. "So, it's just guys now, I know we were all thinking it". Curiously, women who are present as part of a couple have the most stabilising effect. Their presence calms, but does not lead to that type of primitive pursuit typified by conversations spatially centered around a women.

The man whore. Each night (and most of the day) unashamedly pursuing a different woman. The close one-on-one conversations. One night eating the face of a Welsh girl, the next night engaging the young Australian ladies. The next daylight back to flirting on the beach. He isn't young enough for me to dismiss this behaviour with a smile and chuckle about guys in their early 20s. Still, if someone sucked out my entire sense of shame I might not be far off myself so I can't judge too harshly.

Sometimes people want electronic music, sometimes they don't. I would be tempted to say this is not the place to have Goa parties, but it's only a narrow majority who favour quiet conversation and real instruments (a drum for these purposes does not count as a real instrument and belongs with the electronic music). Certainly the Austrian man with the twirly fire sticks liked his music. But this preference halved the size of the fire, because what do you do, sit around being alternative without being able to converse. No you do cool things which involve twirling shiny things around and taking drugs (drugs other than cannabis).

Local people at the fire, ignoring the overly drunk men who are loud and intrusive, usually results in silence. Conversations are stilted and basic, because in the end there is little common ground with people who have not left their home country. The people who join the fires are not the most educated, the richer and mixed groups would be more likely to build their own fires and keep to themselves (but converse in English, the language of the higher classes in Bangalore). The difference softens when Indian men arrive who have lived in Europe or the USA. They are a few years closer to the social groups who frequent the fires and can engage better.

Hitting the cows. Don't hit the cows, they just want to eat your candles. Wave the stick around and they understand. On the other hand, don't get too friendly, cows love to wander in and soil the ground around you.

Stream of consciousness: telling someone else how it should be

I don't stand by what I am about to say, these thoughts came quickly.

Racism is wrong, stereotypes are wrong, collective treatment is wrong. Even if I am an apologist for the pragmatic deviations from these standards the ideal behaviour is clear. But what is racism, because I don't mean the colour of the skin, this is just a too convenient clue to the region of origin. If an Indian looking man speaks with a British accent he is British. This is about culture.

For a moment, I have a dream. I don't accept the cultures of other nations, and don't follow the general 'quaint tradition' acceptance that seems to prevail. It's damning, but I call the modern homogenisation of the culture of young people in the world progress. I return to cultural imperialism, but with a wider we. I believe in a global humanity. It shouldn't matter which country someone originates from. The idea that the culture of the young loses some of the unique elements of the parents culture in each region is not a problem. People are freer than their parents. For a second I'm not even going to give fair time to cultures which rely on arranged marriages. I don't give time to the caste system of India. These are wrong, the traditions are outdated, their smothering is progress. Forget divorce rates in the west, people are free to change their lives as they see fit and not compelled by law to live with abusive husbands. Forget vain societies manipulated by fashion and glamour and populated by self important victims of eating disorders. Temporarily ignore the ongoing struggles against sexism which occur internationally. This is relative progress. A fair person might say that cultural standards should not be imposed. Slavoj Žižek says that this imposition of the moral framework is the most violent intrusion a society could make. But for a second lets accept I, we, are right. Women should have equal rights. Lesbians, Gays, Bisexuals, Trans should have equal rights. Skin colour shouldn't be the basis of the judgement of a person. Nobody should live in slavery, or effective economic slavery. Honesty and altruism are virtues.... and that it is right to hold all of these up as standards by which to measure the progress of other cultures.

It is Indian women in India protesting about the culture of rape and sexual violence. And what if I am not shy to call it as it is, this is what progress looks like.

Imagine.

Every street in India

Somehow the BBC managed to capture an image of every street in India, see the first image.
Every street in India

Table seats seven

Two girls from Switzerland, French speaking, sit down for a beer at one of the tourist lodges on Om Beach, Gokarna. It's a quiet atmosphere on the beach, and tonight the usual mix of Krishna Das and Pink Floyd has been replaced by some inoffensive ambient music with a twist of Spanish guitar. The cafe faces out over the beach to the sea, and the other white plastic tables and chairs are populated by a number of couples and pairs of foreign tourists. It isn't a well-lit cafe, but the atmosphere is not dark. The ladies have ordered their beers and a man sits down at the other end of the long table, for it has a handful of free seats. After a moment when furnished with his beer, he asks the question. The ladies are from Switzerland, and the pleasantries continue in this order. His band of four friends join them at the table, and the conversation moves onto India. They warn the girls to watch out for Indian men, the other men are not safe.
Nobody noticed it coming, but mid ambiguity over whether the girls are French, their language, or Swiss, the name of Hitler is mentioned. The girls make a shy deflection of the subject by stating that they have nothing to do with Germany. But the speaker continues in a louder tone, something about the atmosphere at the time. This isn't acknowledged by the girls. He increases the force of his delivery. "But listen to me...", "But what I'm saying is that people don't understand what it feels like at the time, they don't understand the reasons". The girls respond that Hitler killed millions of people. The man still louder, one of the friends of the original conversation starter, that these actions were just a consequence of history. That people might have suffered to cause this uprising. The girls respond that the Jews were not at fault in this and Hitler was not fully supported by the people. Switzerland wasn't involved, they only sell arms to both sides. The debate escalates to an imbalanced and conversational rule breaking battle of "Listen to me". Eventually the girls win, through a refusal to acknowledge the speaker until he becomes quiet. But as soon as they have spoken the torrent begins again. The girls don't understand, it's because of the Boston Tea Party. They don't understand because they don't know the Boston Tea Party. What happened is...
One of the men suggests that the girls should have another drink, but is strongly rebuffed. 'If you say to me drink, I don't drink'. It's the wonderful Franglish grammar which is so adorable for it's accent and minor mistakes which show the speaker has nearly mastered at least two languages. 'You can leave now, because we are going to go shower'. The men talk among themselves, drinking a little from the beers. One man picks up his chair, moves around and places it between the girls. It's time for a picture and he places his hand around the waist of one girl for the shot. It then sits on her shoulder for a while as his friend prepares to take a few more. But the fun is over, the friends have to leave, and all of the party bar the conversation starter who is sat between the girls start to make reluctant motions. They are not willing, and only one of the party is standing just outside the restaurant, looking back and imploring them to come to dinner now. The friends are gone and only the one man remains, but the ladies are still defiant, they won't drink when told.
"I want some time with you". It's met with confusion, so the same words are repeated twice more by way of explanation. But without the word 'spend' it is a naked statement. "What do you mean by some time?" The man hesistates, and stops and starts a few sentences, before the conversation slowly blurs into a lack of understanding. The man comments on the soft music in the bar, and the girls sit quietly while he drinks his beer.
The man calls out loud for the waiting staff "Please come here". The words don't soften the harsh nature of the command, and the staff who daily serve Western tourists continue their business without acknowledging him. Eventually he makes his presence known, and his friend has returned to discuss the bill. If you want some money, you take the money. He repeats this twice and holds up the notes. The bill is Rs1500, two days on the beach for a foreign tourist, but the beers the party drank were relatively expensive.
The girls disappear and he speakes to the waiter, who isn't going to handle this and seeks out the manager who is wandering around placing incense as part of evening pooja, Hindu prayer rituals.
"You have rooms"
"No good rooms, no bathroom"
"Don't worry, I don't want bathroom"
"No rooms"
"But I can get room, people checkout"
"No rooms, people staying like 1 month"
"Yar, I want also. You don't have"
"You understand me, we don't have no empty. We don't have checkout, people staying like 1, 2 months no checkout"
"How can I book"
"People just arriving"
"Then I will come here, I contact you"
"I have no possible. No rooms empty"
The girls re-emerge for a walk along the sand with the hanger on, and a last dozen photo moment. It's cooler now and returning to the lodge the last man from Bangalore breaks off to return to his friends.

Magic, a year on

It's a special moment, when the moon is hidden and the lights of the beach are turned off for the night. The dark blue sky is filled with countless stars not visible from light-polluted Europe. Looking up you can almost imagine yourself floating in space. The calm sea is the same dark blue and forms an almost invisible border with the sky. As you swim off from the shore, flashes of blue light appear in the sea in the place of stars, as if it is sky above and below. The spark-like flashes of plankton are short lived but predictable, with a dozen rushing over each arm as it disturbs the water. It's warm, and still, and you glide through space.

Ahead of the times

It appears that my perfectly rational proposal to increase the efficiency of Indian roads is being put to use in congested Delhi. With innovations like this India will truly become a global power. 118dBs of efficiency.

The horn issue as digested by a BBC hack

finally catching up to the wisdom of

My original verbal flatulence

Dem foreigners

I would prefer not to be judged as a Briton, but have expectations of others based on their nationality. Hypocrisy is wonderful. Sadly as described before I fit a number of national stereotypes, from the 19th century. Leo Tolstoy's 'The British think they know how to run the world' might describe my thoughts, and a description of the eccentricity of the British with regard to the local flora and fauna from the National Gallery in Delhi my interests. I certainly wouldn't agree with a positive association with nationality; I consider national pride dangerous and Nationalism a sickness. But undeniably there are traits, as it appears to outsiders, which are common between the people of a nation. This is proved wonderfully in the case of those who try and deny the importance of nationality. The reply 'what does it matter what country I am from', or 'Europe' is a good clue that you are speaking with a German. Nationality shouldn't matter, but it does, at the very least first language, and in most cases the expectation of fluency in English. Nationality gives an expectation of shared cultural references, it just shouldn't be too closely held with pride. It seems obvious that English people are not all the same, but without any evidence on the overlap between the EDL and Oxfam.

It's impossible not to form stereotypes. So, with all the obvious preconditions, I give you travellers in India, in the vicinity of Goa, in the most unfavourable light possible.

Russians. India is cheap, the Russians are going on holiday. They don't speak English, and don't want to speak English. Everyone should speak Russian. (A painful stereotype to recount given the international reputation of monolingual British tourists). A typical conversation with a Russian may proceed as follows:
Speaker 1 "Hello" Russian Speaker "What you want, no speak English"
Speaker 1 "Hi. Do you know x" Russian Speaker "What you want, ask somebody else"
Once you get past the abrupt language, it is possible to get to know Russians. It's just unfortunate that their culture is a little prickly on the outside, and politeness is not the norm. But on the whole Russians prefer to associate with Russians, and go to businesses with Russian signs, menus and customers. Parts of Goa are dominated by heavy drinking Russian tourists, who manage to make the dangerous Indian roads even more so (India's system of road chaos works providing speeds are kept low, and of course the Russian was never at fault in the accident recounted). Elsewhere Russians prove deserving of their first prize for cultural sensitivity with minimally covered women, hot pants are definitely 'in'.

Israelis. I have made friends with pleasant Israelis, but unfortunately for their international reputation the presence is dominated by obnoxious early 20s hedonists who have just escaped the army. Military service is for both sexes in Israel, and somehow regresses people to an age of about 12-14. Childish, spoiled and almost always in groups. They can speak English perfectly well but will switch to Hebrew as soon as possible, even if half the people present are non-Israeli. The greatest numbers of Israelis is to be found where the best Charas is (Indian hash). Israelis barter hard, sometimes to the point of being offensive (especially if you know the person doing business), but consequently get good prices. On the other hand there is a tendency to complain about the unchangeable. I have watched an Israeli be told repeatedly not to wash clothes in the guest house by the stressed lodge owner (in Ladakh where water really is scarce), and then complain that her friend is in the shower and the water has run out, placing the blame on the lodge owner, within 10 minutes. Israeli's are probably also deserving of an award for dangerous driving, driving too fast through the town. I have seen more than a few limping, sporting broken arms or bits of plaster, all as a result of accidents which also weren't their fault.

British. Sadly, near Goa, the British have a less than ideal reputation. The Scottish and Irish also fit in to this, often worse, and with an accent far less intelligible to any other nationality. Somehow 'Brits abroad' Brits stray out of Goa, and these fine examples of English speakers occasionally manage to say a word which isn't fuck. They can be identified on Gokarna beach (a quiet smokers atmosphere) by their heavy drinking and unpopular and loud music, often described by the word "Chune [sic]". The drug of choice is still ketamine, which isn't entirely popular on the beach due to a history of fires/deaths/k-holed-people. The 'alright lads' Brits are also present, less in your face but also with far less going on upstairs. I spent the last evening listening to one, who kept asserting that London was home to 14 million people. It's not, it's 8.1 million according to google, and 'near 9 million' according to my memory. There is a figure for the number who travel into London each week for work but it seems less than 1 million. There is good news on the horizon however, for when Scotland gets it's independence the heavy drinking guys with the guitar singing Lola will officially belong to a different country.

Germans, Belgians, Danish, Swedish, Norwegian, Finnish, Swiss: Rather nice people, good English.
North Americans: Friendly, polite, amusingly fit the standard stereotypes.
Italians, misc. Spanish speakers: Fair in their way.
French: Slightly arrogant, will turn up to a fire with an international crowd and sing in French.
Australians. Healthy, tall, young, blond, airheads. For sure.

Myself. Cynical negative energy sucking bastard, work in progress.