Maya's Aura: Goa to Nepal

by Smith, Skye

"I still think 'e is a voyeur. I was ready and 'e said 'no'."

  Maya couldn't help laughing. "Oh, suck it up princess. You can't win 'em all." She took a moment to stare out to sea and then continued, "Don't take it to heart, sweetie. Look where he chooses to live, with fantastic views in every direction. Of course, he is a voyeur. You know, I think we should go back up and eat my fish. Tonight I plan to be asleep right after sunset if we are going turtling tomorrow."

  * * * * *

  Will had hacked Maya's fish into pieces and put it in the ice box of the fridge. They still had yesterday's fish to finish, and finish it they did, plus one piece of Maya's, but that was overkill. With less than an hour to sunset, Will took a plastic bag of fishcicle scraps from the freezer and led them up a steep and prickly path to the top of the hill behind the house.

  Every so often he would throw a scrap in front of them on the path and there would be a scurry through the bushes and another monkus would sit up with the scrap in his hands and slurp at the cool treat. The hill was capped by a huge bare boulder. It had a ricketty bamboo ladder leaning against it that they used to climb up to sit on top. From here you could see the horizon in every direction.

  With the entire family of monkus rambling around the boulder searching for a way up, they lay on their tummies on the sun-warmed boulder and faced west. "There she goes," said Maya as the last of the sun suddenly dropped beneath the sea. "Darn, no green flash".

  "Der it ees" said Marique pointing east at a sliver of silver of a glowing disk above the far mountains. "The moon she is rising. Eeet looks so big."

  Will said nothing and he was totally content to say nothing. The boulder warmed his tummy and offset the cooling breeze that was stronger up here on the top. Far below and inland he could see cars and trucks turning on their headlights and marking the position of the coastal highway. He was totally content and felt at peace inside, the first time for many years.

  They had to use flashlights to get back down the prickly path because nature's great streetlight wouldn't throw strong light it until it was higher in the sky. They did not fear the scurrying noises in the bushes all around them, because they knew they could be only the monkus. Nothing else would survive this close to the family's meal ticket.

  There were no clouds, and being so clear it meant a chilly night, well, chilly for Goa, anyway. They did a quick sweep of the kitchen to make sure all the food was put away, and that there were no fishy spills needing a wipe before the bugs found them.

  "Maya," he asked, "could I get you to give me another one of those aura massages to put me to sleep? Maybe it will hold my nightmares at bay." She nodded, and met him in his bed once he was ready to sleep.

  He woke to his alarm wrist watch at four in the morning, and was surprised, or maybe not so surprised, to find two women curled into him for warmth. He had slept eight hours straight without being woken by that same nightmare that haunted him every night. He felt wonderful, alive, and very horny. He crawled over Marique to reach the flap of the mosquito net and she pulled him down on her and kissed his ear before he could pull away and head for the can.

  That morning they again cheated the flocks of birds of a tasty breakfast. They danced and swirled and escorted hundreds of baby turtles to the sea. They had more help from the children this time, because the children had brought their high-school aged brothers and sisters to see the movie stars. Eventually the school teachers had to come out and collect them for classes.

  They were back at the micro beach and the cliff balcolny before nine in the morning, and already they had had a full day and were exhausted from dancing with the children and answering endless questions from the older kids who knew some English.

  To Maya, this was one of the most special days of her life, and she would remember it always. Marique, however, was not so impressed. She kept hinting that she wanted to go north to the famous Anjuna Beach and see what the trance parties were like.

  The next morning they slept in. The turtle event would be over now. After being nagged by Marique mercilessly over breakfast, Maya capitulated and agreed to move to Anjuna for a few days to see what was happening. "As long as we can come back," she looked for nods from both of them.

  Will offered to drive them. They were polite enough to refuse his first offer, just to see if he was serious. He didn't realize they were being polite and worked at convincing them. "Look, if you go by bus, you will have to change three times. It will take you all day in the heat and the crowds and if you can't find somewhere to stay once you get there, well, what then? It's high season, you know."

  They packed their things, locked up, said goodbye to the monkus, and went to arrange for the use of the Gypsy jeep. It took Will an extra hour to put the hard top on the jeep so that they were protected from the elements during the three hour drive to Anjuna Beach. All in hopes of finding a Trance Dance.

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  MAYA'S AURA - Goa to Nepal by Skye Smith

  Chapter 5 - Anjuna Beach, Goa

  Nobody can hurt me without my permission. - Mahatma Gandhi

  Anjuna Beach sticker shock hit the girls hard. Some places wanted fifty and sixty dollars for a room for the night. "What do you expect?" Will said. "A lot of the drunks that go to the Full Moon party are right off the plane and still thinking in London prices. Fifty bucks would seem cheap to them." He pointed to three backpackers walking along the road on the way to the bus stop. "Let's ask them. They probably just left a vacancy."

  They ended up renting a one-room bungalow behind a big house about a hundred yards from the southern end of the beach. The first thing they did after throwing their bags in the bungalow was to hit the beach to bathe away the dust and the sweat of the sweltering road. The beach was nothing like the half-wild turtle beach. It had restaurants and cafes and bars all along it, and lines deck chairs for rent in front of each of them.

  "Yuck," said Maya, already missing her afternoon snorkeling. They left a paradise beach for this overbuilt beach strip?

  "Yes, isn't it wonderful?" asked Marique eagerly looking at the row of clubs and listening to the big base thump, thump, thump, thump of the Euro techno beat.

  Will was just along for the drive. He somehow felt compelled to watch out for these two, as if they were his daughters, as if he were responsible for their safety. Shit, three days ago they were total strangers. He knew better than to get involved. He knew better. He knew better.

  The beach itself must have been cleaned up by the locals after the big drunken party, but there were still plastic glasses and bottles floating ashore on the waves. Their landlord had estimated the full moon crowd at well over a thousand. That was a lot of drunks in one place. Maya was glad she had missed it. Drunks made her aura withdraw, or maybe it was just that drunks could not sense it.

  No matter how many had attended the party, there was no sign of those crowds now. Later, in one of the cafes, a muddle-headed girl told them that for the two weeks running up to the party more and more people arrived. No one left because everyone wanted to say they had been to the party, so people put their travel plans on hold. Now that the party was over, as soon as people regained their strength, they hit the road again to catch up to their original travel plans.

  Maya tried to imagine this beach as it once had been, without all the big buildings strung along it. It must have been a jewel of a place. No wonder it had become so famous.

  "It's the curse of every fabulous natural beach in the world," Will told them. "Once they are discovered by the back packers, the resort money swoops in and turns them into tawdry dreck. Paradise beaches have two main enemies, new cement and new airports."

  "From what you say, back packers are the enemy of paradise, because they never keep them a secret," replied Maya.

  "Guilty," he said putting up his hand. "Hey, finding a paradise beach is like finding some good weed. You want to share it with your friends. This new 'travel to get drunk' tourism is really a bitch, though. They don't even enjoy t
he paradises they land in, they just get pissed. Because Goa is Christian they have cheap booze. That's why the drunkards are so thick here compared to the rest of India."

  It was hot outside in the early afternoon sun, and so they stayed in the shade of the cafe's thatch roof and chatted and watched people. Young people from all over the world and in all sorts of weird mixes of clothing. Some clean-cut European men came in from the land side of the building and Will stopped talking and turned his chair so that instead of watching the beach, he was watching into the cafe.

  An old guy with long frizzy hair and a long beard that had streaks of white and grey was at the next table, and he changed chairs to be nearer to Will so that they could talk without raising their voices. "Russians," he whispered. "They are buying a lot of the beachfront north of the Chapora River. Watch yourself around them. They are an evil bunch. And watch those women of yours when they are around. They have big appetites for young women."

  "What's their game?" Will asked.

  "I know nothing but the gossip. Some say that it is the Russian Mafia setting up a hideout. Some say they are just business men on holiday. I don't care. I don't like them. They are rude and arrogant and tend to push people around," the old guy muttered. "Some of the local politicians are trying to get rid of them, but just as many are protecting them. The police don't seem to care what they do. You know what that means." He rubbed two fingers together meaningfully.

  Will's warning bells were ringing. "Uhh, Maya," he asked, "do you mind if I crash with you guys tonight? If I don't have to drive home today, then I can drink some more beer."

  The old guy was a wealth of information. He had been coming here since the late seventies. He was partner with a Goanese family in a big house on the other side of the field where the weekly flea market was held.

  He told them where the trance party was tonight, and he also told them that the best view of the beach was from the southern headland that separated Anjuna from Baga Beach. Baga Beach was the next beach town south of here. It was village on this end of the long beach that the Indian tourists preferred.

  Will wanted to climb the headland but instead he tagged along behind the women who wanted to walk along the beach to check out the trance Club. It took the rest of the day to walk the beach, because they were checking out the prices of every bar and restaurant and shop along the way. They bought nothing. Everything was overpriced. The old man had warned them about that. Prices surged two weeks before the full moon drunk, and took a week to come back down afterwards.

  They were exhausted by the time they got back to the southern end of the beach, and decided to have some food at the cafe where they had met the old man. The girls wolfed their food and didn't linger. They needed some sleep now, if they were going to party all night. The trance party wouldn't get going until midnight.

  Later that night Will dozed through the hour it took the girls to put together their party outfits overtop of their Indian style white body suits. They tried on everything they owned that was sparkly. They even put on sparkly makeup. When they were ready to go they shook him and asked for a ride so they could wear silly shoes. They left everything of value in the room, and carried only what the old guy told them they would need to pay for entrance and water bottles and stuff.

  The parking lots around the club were packed when they got there, but packed with taxis, and auto rickshaws and motorcycles that gave rides. He pulled in under a tall pine and the girls climbed out. "Sunrise," he told them. I will be here at sunrise to give you a ride, either back to the room, or back to my place." They walked away from him towards the club but then walked passed it without going in. DUH, the trance party would be under open sky and moon.

  Watching them walk made him feel suddenly alone, so he decided to follow them at a discrete distance. Locking the Gypsy was futile, but he did it anyway, and then in an after thought grabbed the car blanket off the back seat. As he walked, there was a rising volume of the thump,thump,thump,thump of the Euro tech beat, and he was glad he wasn't going in.

  While the girls were waiting their turn to pay to enter the party compound, he set up his blanket behind a woman who was selling banana bread and cold sodas. He handed her some rupees and she asked him what he wanted.

  "See those two ferengi women?" he asked pointing to the girls, and the woman looked and nodded. "Tell me if you see them leave. I'll give you even more rupees when you tell me."

  "Ah," she said, "you are the father?"

  "Yes," he admitted, "and I must give them a ride home."

  She nodded and smiled understandingly. She lifted the edge of a sarong and showed him a baby sleeping soundly through the noise of the music and the flashing lights.

  As more and more people arrived for the party, so did more and more vendors and eventually there was a long line of them on either side of the young mom.

  * * * * *

  Marique was in heaven. Maya was a bit dubious. The music was loud and repetitive, the lights were flashing and repetitive, the men trying to pick them up were stoned and repetitive. The old man had told them not to trust any of the drugs sold in pill form. They could contain anything. He advised sticking to old fashioned blotter acid, because only LSD was so concentrated that it could be dispensed in a tiny square of paper.

  Marique was given some red dragon blotter by a hopeful young man. Maya refused. She would be her sister's keeper this time and make sure that Marique had a good trip. Besides, doing acid in a crowd that was thrashing about to loud music was not her idea of a magic trip. Dropping acid to dance with the turtles, that would have been magical.

  They danced mostly next to each other and near where other women were dancing. There were lots of women of all ages and sizes, all dressed in sparkly things. The moonlight was like a spotlight on all of them. Occasionally men, especially eastern European men in American jeans and Italian shirts, would pretend they were dancing with them, but duh, at a trance dance there was no dancing 'with' someone.

  Despite signs all over the place that alcohol was not allowed in the party, there were men sucking back booze out of soda bottles. Will had given them each a very light chord with a clip on it designed especially for a water bottles. Each of them now wore their water bottle slung over one shoulder so they wouldn't have to put it down. Once you put your drink down, you could never trust it again.

  For a long while they hung out with a bunch of Aussie surfers and surfettes. They were a little drunk, a little stoned, and a whole lot of laughs. After that, Marique started to talk to some French men, very handsome French men, but then their women came back from the toilets and dragged them away from her.

  Marique told her that the acid was fabulous. It was a very low dosage so it gave her the energy to dance all night but without the psychedelic strange. Maya had to admit that she was having trouble keeping up with her while dancing.

  And then something strange started to happen to Marique. She started to slow down. Very strange because the acid should have kept her going for at least four or five hours. Eventually Maya walked her over to some seats away from the speakers and sat her down. Marique was slumping and slurring her words. Not only that, but one side of her sparkley saraong was all wet.

  Maya tightened the lid on Marique’s water bottle but it was already tight. The plastic bottle was leaking. She leaned her friend up against her and looked at her bottle. When you squeezed it, water streamed out of a big pin prick in the side of the thing. She checked hers. Hers was doing the same thing. Warning bells went off in her head. She dragged her friend to her feet and headed for the exit.

  A couple of the eastern European men that had been crowding them all night pretening to dance with them, came up on either side of her and one said in heavily accented English, "Is your friend not well, let us help you." One grabbed Marique to hold her up, while the other grabbed Maya and pulled her away from Marique. To do that he had to grab her hand and pull hard, because Maya wasn't letting go of her sick friend.

  Darkness s
wept up Maya's arm and into her chest and mind. A third man had joined them and he took her other hand, holding her up from fainting. The darkness increased and she tried to pull away from them but they held her tight. She and Marique were being walked towards the exit. She blanked out a bit. Now they were walking along a line of vendors.

  She blanked out again. They were almost at a car. A big black Mercedes. She slumped against the car trying to hold herself up so the men would leave go of her. Instead she was pushed into the back seat after Marique and two men sandwiched them into the middle. At least they had let go of her. She was aware of the sound of spinning gravel, and the smell of dust and the rocking of the big car as it twisted around parked cars.

  At least Maya was beginning to feel more normal. She could feel a dampness down her side. The water bottle was still leaking. Hers was still almost full, but Marique’s was half gone. She had been forcing Marique to drink water to keep her hydrated while dancing.

  She looked around at the men in the back of the car with them. She pried one of Marique's eyes open and tried to look into it but there was not enough light.

  "Don't worry about your friend," said the man next to her with a thick accent. He chuckled and held up a syringe and jabbed it into her plastic bottle. "I added a kick to your drinks, that is all."

  Maya wanted to scream, but who would hear her except the four men in this car. She wanted to fight and struggle and get out, but what were the chances of that? Even if she got away, Marique wasn't going anywhere. Marique was really messed up. She took a deep breath and decided to pretend she was out of it too. It was tough to do because curious hands were occasionally exploring her body.

  * * * * *

  "Are those your friends?" asked a voice from far away. Will shook himself awake with an ungracious huh. "Are those your friends?" repeated the banana bread woman with the baby.

  Will looked up and saw Maya and Marique being walked out of the gate towards the parking lot. "Yeah, thanks a lot," he said shaking himself to wake up, and handing an uncounted wad of rupees to the woman. He grabbed his blanket and stooped low so he could walk quickly along the line of trees behind the vendors.