The weather remains perfect here, warm and sunny but not too hot or humid. There are very few clouds so I am happy that the cabins and street leading to the beach are shaded by the tall palm forest. My digestion is still a bit sensitive from the spicy food so I have only yogurt and a banana for breakfast while Frank heads to the restaurant with some of the others we were drinking and smoking with last night.
I walk into the village half a kilometre away, just for something different to do. At least there is some activity here, a change from the beach where the only activity is in the form of gentle waves and breezes. I poke around a couple stores to buy some fruit for later and then stroll back to the beach. A couple travelers are passed out on the sand, perhaps still recuperating from last night, but otherwise the beach is empty. I place my towel on the sand not too far from them and read my book.
I pass the rest of the morning here, until Frank comes to ask if I will join him for lunch. I do. Afterwards I feel the need to rest and return to our room for a nap. I sleep for most of the afternoon. I am not sure why I am tired all the time here. Perhaps I am not used to the drugs or letting go of stresses from my travels. Maybe I am resting up before the shock of returning to my mundane life in the work-a-day world.
I usually go crazy when I have nothing for do for any prolonged period of time, but I still love the inactivity here. I have only two more days here and then my life will be active again. The thought of returning to Mumbai isn't appealing, with all its noise and commotion, but I am looking forward to seeing Vancouver again for the first time in almost two years. I was there for the Gay Games III in July 1990.
But at the moment I think I could live here, eating and living simply and comfortably. The problem with traveling is that a traveler never 'belongs' wherever he is. Home is always somewhere else, so I cannot imagine living anywhere that is not home, where I would not belong and have some sort of purpose. I don't have a purpose here and I do not belong, but I could endure a longer stay here more comfortably than anywhere I have been on this trip to date. It is ironic that I found this place just before returning to Canada.
I saunter back to the vicinity of the restaurant to see what is happening. I stroll down to the south end of the beach again to watch the purple crabs crawling slowly through the rock pools, and then return to read my book for half an hour before dinner. Jesse and Karen are there and invite me to join them for dinner. Frank joins us after we have ordered. He tells me he has been to the north end of the beach where a small river comes out of the jungle. He says it is beautiful and that I should check it out tomorrow.
There is a good sunset tonight. We sit on the patio and watch it. Afterwards we join the others we were with last night and help them to build another campfire. Jesse sits beside me and chats me up. He is friendly guy, with a slight build and a tad insecure. He seems drawn to me, as a friend I assume since he has a girlfriend. At one point, when others around us are engaged in other conversations and not listening to us, he asks me if I am gay. It catches me a bit off-guard as I don't feel sexual anymore by this point of the trip. Usually only women pick out that I am not emanating the normal gamma rays that straight men do, and straight guys are usually only comfortable with gay men with their girlfriends nearby.
I suppose there some visible aspects of being gay that have nothing to do with lifestyles or horniness. I am not sure what they are, not anymore. Jesse is glad that he is right. It seems to reassure him and he seems to feel a stronger connection with me now. At least that is how he acts, like there is a secret between us. I guess it is though I no longer have a vested interest in keeping it a secret. He could be gay too, or bi. Perhaps he has had several good gay friends before and feels comfortable around us. He doesn't pursue it any further and he returns to Karen before it occurs to me to ask him why he thought I am gay. Anyway, he did say he likes the purple streaks in my hair. I blushed.
A young Indian man, about 25 years old named Rajeev, sits down beside me after Randy leaves. He is a local guy who likes foreigners. He particularly likes me it seems. He is full of questions about my travel and my life in Canada and then boldly asks me if I like men. I am beginning to think I combed my hair differently tonight to end up with all this attention. I wish I knew what it is so I can do it again later. Rajeev is sweet and cute and definitely coming on to me as he sidles up close to me. I’d love to do something with him, but he has arrived right at the end of the night when my energy is fading. I talk with him for about half an hour, letting him know I find him attractive too. He understands it is too late tonight to do anything. He too has to get home right away, but he asks if I will meet him here Sunday night, the night after tomorrow. I am not sure what we can do but I give it lots of thought and return to our room and lie in bed in the dark. Sunday will be our last night in Palolem.
PHOTO 1: Palolem Beach
PHOTO 2: Palolem Beach Bar & Grill
No comments:
Post a Comment