The lazy blogger is back...

A lot has happened since I last wrote, so I've chosen to concentrate on the past three weeks with my friend Sara in Goa. Before that, I had pappa over for a visit for two weeks. We went to Varanasi, where I had been seven years ago and pappa 36 years ago. There he took some amazing photos (check facebook for that) and met many nice people through the camera lens. It's amazing how people approach you when they see the huge camera! After Varanasi we also visited Rishikesh, Haridwar, Amritsar and Dharamsala. Pappa left me in Dharamkot (outside of Dharamsala), where I spent the next two weeks reading in the sun, climbing in the surrounding mountains, working one hour per day with tibetan refugees and being increadibly cold together with new friends at night.

After all of this, I travelled down to Mumbai (that's a LOOONG trip) to meet Sara, who came over from Sweden for christmas and new years. In the end of her stay we listed the highlights of our time together and ended up creating a list consisting of more than 40 points, some of which I'd never dream of mentioning here... So instead of the full list I present to you the highlights of the highlights:

• Fine dining in the Mumbai Customs Canteen

Upon Saras arrival, we probably had the best timing possible, the moment that she walked out of the arrivals hall, looking mildly confused, I walked up to all the people waiting. Since she arrived around midnight and our train to Goa was at five in the morning, we had decided to spend the night at the airport, catching up on everything that had happened since we last saw each other. Time went increadibly fast and after a couple of hours Sara was hungry. No problem, I said, I saw a local restaurant just a stones throw away where we can find you something cheap and tasty to eat. We walked into the small restaurant with our backpacks on and everything seemed completely normal to me: lots of Indian men staring at us. Sara payed a little more attention than I did and therefore asked: are you sure we can eat here? Yeah, why not? I replied, no problem (have I been in India too long? Nothing is a problem in India)! But there's a sign at the door that you have to have a special card to be able to eat here, it seems to be a canteen for people who work at the airport. Now that we'd come so far, though, I didn't want that small obstacle to stop us, so I asked the man at the register if we could stay even though we didn't work there. He tried to tell us about a nearby hotel with better food, but when I said that we liked this place, he seemed flattered and confused and told us that we could stay. So Sara got her dal and rice and we both had a chai. The price? 5 kr (0,5 euro) plus lots of happy staring looks from the customs workers.. Was this the first time the Mumbai Customs Canteen had two lost blond swedish girls eating in their canteen? Probably! And was Sara happy with her first meal in India? Definitely!

• Not so pleasant Russian Yoga
  
  After a smooth train ride, we arrived safe and sound in Benaulim, Goa (where I'd spent christmas 2006). From the very first day, we started looking around for a place to do yoga in the mornings, we had a vision that we'd get up early every morning and start the day with a refreshing yoga class. After a few days of looking and lots of asking around, we finally found something that sounded promising: drop in classes every morning at 7-8.30. The expectations were high as we took an early morning walk to the Woodstock Resort. There we were greeted by Svetlana (we think that was her name, she certainly looked like a Svetlana) and the class started. Ok. Imagine the most russain english you possibly can. Make it 100 times stronger and mix it up with yoga terms. Ta-daaaaa... Russian yoga! "Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis", Svetlana told us and we didn't understand what she wanted us to do until half the class was over. Oh! Breathe! When one student couldn't get into a position, she sounded irritated and then she went over to him and pushed him into it, until he said "ooooooooow". Svetlana also showed us some positions that she could do, but that we wouldn't be doing, it would be way to hard for us. Thank you, Svetlana! I'm so glad you showed them to us anyway, so that we now know that you can do them.. I couldn't look at Sara during the whole class, I was so sure that if I cought her eye, we'd both burst out laughing (it turned out afterwards that she was thinking the exact same). After the class Svetlana wanted to know if we would come back and we both answered as vaguely as possible (yes, we are cowards) and escaped the horrible yoga, never to return again. I guess Russian yoga doesn't always have to be bad, but from what I've seen so far I can't say I'm a big fan..
  After the Russian yoga, we couldn't find another yoga option in Benaulim (although we tried to convince a German guy we met there to teach us. Is German yoga better then Russian?) and then we just became so lazy that we didn't manage to do anything but lay on the beach and dance the evenings away... Sorry Sara! Next time you come visit me in India, I promise we'll find real Indian yoga.

• Great Hindi music and Bollywood dance (a future career?)

So what did we do during our three weeks together? Well, we certainly spent more time on the sun beds than I've ever done in my life before. Sara made sure that we tanned in a good way with sun factor 15 though, so you don't have to worry, mamma! During the evenings in Benaulim, we were dancing, dancing, dancing. Since there are many Indian tourists in Benaulim, a lot of the music was hindi and the dance moves were greatly inspired by Bollywood movies. If you've never been on a dance floor in India, it's almost worth coming here just for that experience. It's not like in Sweden, where 95 % of the "dancers" are just bouncing along in an unispiring way, oh no. On the dance floors in India, it's pure action (and for anyone of you who's seen me dance, you must know I like that style)! First of all, people are having so much fun, just watching the happiness is a sight in itself. But most importantly: people are feeling the music and they are not afraid of being embarrased by their dance, they just give everything they possibly can. It's whistling, it's down to the floor and up again, it's sweat everywhere... It's delightful! It's beautiful! It's contagious...

All this dancing made me start dreaming of becoming a Bollywood dancer. Maybe Sara believed in the dream as much as I did? Anyway, she never said anything to make me think it wasn't possible (maybe she's just polite?). The dream grew for a few days, until we met a group of college boys from Bangalore on New Years, who crushed it totally. First they told me that there's no such profession, then they told me that I'd probably have to be Indian (what, I don't look Indian?), then that the process was VERY long. What I still had after the crushed dream, was the possibility to lie to other travelers about me being a Bollywood dancer. So I'll do that, whenever I meet someone who deserves a lie (e.g. a "globetrotter", you can read about that traveler type in my post about the people in Sri Lanka). Yes, I'm a famous Bollywood dancer, that's the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.

• The bad Mojito and Dr Elvis Macarena

Christmas eve. Romantic dinner on the beach with my beautiful Sara. The first beer in a long time. After a while Sara wants a mojito and orders it from Rajesh, the cute little nepali guy (who's constantly hitting on her) at the Hard Rock Shack. Rajesh does something that he calls a mojito, but that something certainly isn't a mojito and it is not good... Not good at all. Next morning, my Sara is throwing up and we both think she's hungover. But after a few days, we both know that's not the case.. So what is there to do? Go to the doctor in Colva! And who is the most reputable doctor in Colva?

Dr. Elvis Macarena of course! With such a melodic name, the expectations are high as we enter the clinic. Despite all the expectations, Dr Elvis Macarena succeeds to impress us greatly by his charm, his humor, his colorful sneakers and his maaaad doctor skills. I'd go to Dr Elvis anyday of the week. The best thing about Dr Elvis was his amazing Indian accent and gestures. So easily imitated.. The doctor refused to sing for us, though. I have no idea why.

• Bollywood stars with Anil Kapoor
  
  Although Sara and I already felt famous in India, especially after a massive photo shoot at the Gateway of India, with at least 20 people and 8 cameras involved, we were still looking for more fame. Because of this, we rebooked our tickets to Mumbai and planned to stay there an extra day with one intention: we would be extras in a Bollywood movie. This might sound like a goal hard to reach, but in fact all you have to do is walk around in Colaba (the backpacker area), look foreign and someone will come up to you and ask. So, we headed for Colaba and within 15 minutes Imran came up to us: "Do you girls want to be in a Bollywood movie tomorrow?" Reply: "Yes, yes, yes!!!". After this, Imran still tried to sell the concept to us, but he could have saved his speech. We were just so easily convinced that he probably hadn't experienced it before. The deal was: Free ride to the Bollywood studio and back, get costume, hair and make up, work for 13 hours, get breakfast, lunch and dinner and 500 Rs. The night before the action, we warmed up by going to the cinema to see Band Baaja Baaraat, a typical Bollywood movie; colorful romantic and full of music and dance..
  The next day we were on the bus with 30 other fame seeking tourists going to the studio. As we got there, all of us were dressed up in suits, then we went to the beauty girls for "hair and make up" (which in my case consisted of releasing my tiny pony tail that I have nowadays and brushing my hair until it looked awful. No make up). After that make over, we went into the studio, a fake train station office in London, where we all had to sit at computers with head sets on, look serious and pretend to type for 10 hours. Yes, Bollywood life is glamorous! It was actually a really nice day, being in the same room as Anil Kapoor (the actor who reads the questions in Slumdog Millionaire) and lots of hip Indian media people. I noticed that the fashion amongst the Bollywood staff is baggy jeans and a t-shirt with a funky message on it - "Hug me, I'm special" or "British triathlon; football, drinking, sleeping". We were fed three times during the very monotonous day as well, and in the end we got the cash! Not only am I incredibly famous, I'm rich as well. AND I've already told many people here in Varanasi about my movie career- they all think I'm really cool. So what more can I expect out of life? Maybe that Sara would stay with me longer? I miss you, sweety!

Next on the itinerary is the Dalai Lamas teachings here in Varanasi from the 12th to the 16th. After that I'm going to volunteer at a meditation course in Bodhgaya, where the Buddha was enlightened. As my companion, I now have Ombretta, a lively, smart and sweet Italian girl that I met in Dharamsala. So, traveling life is still very good. Who knows, maybe I'll stay in India and try my luck as a Bollywood dancer after all?