|star, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
palolem beach is in goa. north or south i forgot. near to margao. also one of the most touristi spots.
the polish girl from my last place said i should go there. the most beautiful spot she can think of. even worth while to travel 36 hours, even it is just 3 days. beach, sand, water, drinks on masse, peace. no showshit. and a lovely place to live and sun.
palolem is very touristi. stalls with clothes, tea, food, tea, clothes, alcohol, next to each other, along the only road in the village. for 100 meter. just nothing else. a huge amount of hotels with little sheds made out of bambussticks and dry leaves, some plastic paper. some more fancy some less. depends on the prize for each night.
|shells, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|girls, palolem beach, 3rd april 2012|
|hotel, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
it is already almost after the season. still open, because not yet easter time. but already hot. and if it gets too hot they close down. so not worthwhile to have it open. but yet still open.
at the begining backpackers came, hippies, loved the quietness, the nature, the untouchable. later more and more came, now the hippies are either gone or older, still coming here, now with their children. germans who might were involved in the 68's generation, when everything was about freedom and liberty, loving each other and trying to aim for nothing than the day. freedom, peace and harmony. now they have kids, still come here, and lay in the memory of the past. maybe.
|party, palolem beach, 4th april 2012|
it was monday eve. a tv was on, heard it, from somewhere. nothing special. i thought. walls are thin and people are close.
the tv ran all night, till the morning, all day, all night. interruped with some music, then tv again. i asked my landlord, out of curiousty of a villager.
they are just smoking a bit too much. he smilled, imitated a puff with a cigarette. smiled again. i smiled as well.
goa is famous for partying, trance electronic stuff, and drugs of course. and hippies and tourist talking them, half naked. always.
when i am in my village, when i was younger, we had a massive amount of parties. a lot of them in my place. because my parents have a restaurant. restaurant means space, liquid and food. had parties from just hanging around till dancing widly, pucking over the balcony and rolling around in the field. or getting chucked out by my rigerous grandmother. it was fun, every summer adiffernt episode of people, stories, dramas. typical as a young teenager in a village.
i can remember one of the first time we drank alcohol. we were 12 or 13, far too young. we wanted to get drunk, we were curious. it was new year. karin said you have to drink it in once. she was the cool one of us. so i did. sat on the table in front of the upper restaurant place and drank, it was champagne. aftrewards i can just remeber how funny everything was.
this was one of the good drunkenness. later on i had a lot of bad ones. with forgetting, till being unbelievable embarrassing and dramatic ones. even hospital. not because of the alcohol as such but the side product.
nowadays i hardly drink. not because i am scared, just because there are better things in life.
|umbrella boy, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|tree, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|toys, palolem beach, 4th april 2012|
|sign, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|boys, palolem beach, 3rd april 2012|
most of teh time i got up at half 6 am, got up, first a run along the water, than jumping in the water, but never forgetting where and if your clothes are still lying there. then walk with taking images, then chai. going back. looking for my book and jump into he water. then bying water, biscuits and pineapple form the pineapple mango guy who is far too old for the heavy basket but probably much more strong than i expect and amazingly educated in the way he cuts pineapples, halves the coconut.
on teh day before i left he came, in the afternoon. no pineapple for me, never in the afternoon. he said tomorrow morning. i said yes. wa a bit happy. a bit pittyfull.
remembering and pointing out customers i do a lot, as a waitress, back home. because t is ncie, to recognize, to get recognize. not even a marketing strategy. not for me. i talk to customers, make them wellcome, share moments, out of fun. out of the surprising moment of receiving and getting something which is based on pure coincident.
do the customer talk to me as well out of pittyness? or do i just talk to those guys out of my pittyness for myself?
|apartments, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|baywatchstand, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
it seems like tourism makes me sad. guess it is so close to me that every single moment i am digging in my personal memory treassure.
|child, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|toilet, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|garniture, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
every place has also a different side. specific tourist places. tourist places are most of the time just minor a tourist place and mostly just a place. people eat, work and live according to their rules, cultural context.
most of the time the tourist context is not the cultural context of the place. but if the tourist context is different the cultural context tries to adopt, where the tourists are.
|shrudi, palolem beach, 3rd april 2012|
going a long the beach the hats in beautiful colors next to fancy continental coffee and restaurant places with crazy electronic music or jazz. clean beach and deep blue water. going through the tiny ways inside the palm area piles of rubbish, coconut shells waiting for a better life, plastic pieces are covering houses and the pigs are licking the last drop of food from the plastic bags.
|alfonso, palolem beach, 3rd april 2012|
|sign, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|girl, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|mega, palolem beach, 3rd april 2012|
|starflowers, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|sign2, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
sometimes i wonder what the tourist are thinking. about the discrepancy. the broken dream. the unperfect one. or do they see it or is it like in a dream where you just see the halfof it. everything else is blurry.
memory definitly is doing its best. it shades, masks out.
or maybe it makes understand. that life is just as it is. they are like it is. and if you wanna be here you have to accept.
likeness is a good way of acceptance and understanding. cheapness i guess as well.
|bedsheets, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|
|@li, palolem beach, 2nd april 2012|