It’s that time of year again in Anjuna where the cicadas start their incessant high-pitched buzzing/hissing noise in the trees and it sounds like a symphony of vibrating alarms going off. They’re calling to their lovers. . .or, potential lovers, anyway. . .or, for some of them, maybe just hoping another little cicada chick is listening somewhere in the jungle and will find them amongst the trees.
They only like certain trees so you can be walking down a quiet part of the road and then all of a sudden it’s as if you’ve entered a tunnel of sound. The mating call engulfs you and all of your senses. I never heard it at this volume other than in the rainforests of Costa Rica.
But their call is also a message to let us know the rains are coming. The monsoon will be here soon enough. Gasp! The symphonic alarms remind us every day.
The plus side of that. . .MANGO SEASON! Oh yeahhhhhh! This is the time of year where all the locals who have trees in their yards start playing “pass the mango.” What the heck does that mean, you ask? Right. That means there’s a strange obligatory act among neighbors and family members that everyone passes a parcel of mangoes to another household. We happen to be lucky because we know one of the old aunties in the village who happens to have one of the BEST tasting mango trees in the area and we get some of her very precious crop. These are the kind of mangoes that make you almost shed tears while you taste their sweet, luscious, to-die-for flavor and you can’t get them at the markets or anywhere else. You have to know this auntie and be part of her inner circle.
Just the other day, I was talking to an Austrian guy, Dominik, and telling him about these mangoes. I said, “You’ve never tasted any mango this good in your life. I swear. It will almost make you cry. It will be the best mango you’ve ever had.” He looked at me, surprised, of course, and then Magic Man walked in the door with a whole bag of these special mangoes. I cut the cheeks and handed one to Dominik. He dug in with his spoon, put a scoop into his mouth, and then moaned. His eyes closed.
“Oh my god,” he said. “This is so good.”
“It is?” I said.
“Yes. This is best mango I’ve ever tasted. Wow.”
Yeah. So, there’s that. One of my best friends in America who is also Indian never dared to eat a mango in the states. He used to always say they were rubbish. Now I totally understand why. You really have no idea how bad something is until you taste how good it CAN be. Whew. The not knowing isn’t always bad, though. I think that goes for random life stuff, too. Isn’t there a famous story about someone eating an apple that changes them forever?!
Lately, even the peacocks have been more out and about. They like to roam the fields at sunset. . .
It’s also been that time where the Cashew trees just produced their funny capsicum looking fruits. They have the most unusual aroma. To me, it smells of Feni, which is the local moonshine made from the fruit. It is an acquired taste, but sometimes, the sunsets around here just aren’t right without a Feni cocktail in one hand. Haha. Good thing you can’t get drunk off the breeze. . .
A funny thing happened the other day. Traffic stopped for “coconut maintenance.” That means a guy climbs (sometimes barefoot) to the top of the coconut trees to whack them down before they accidentally fall on whatever is passing underneath. . . even the cows are spared. Thank god for the men who do this. Woo! You’d be surprised to see how high up they actually climb without any kind of gear. It’s a wild sight. (The below pic captures a coconut in flight in case you missed that big dot in the center!)
Our tiny village is quite hip these days with some yummy food carts and trucks. Our favorite place to go is close to our house and they serve things like Pani Puri and Shev Puri. I don’t know if I can explain them, so here’s some pics. . .
On the left, Pani Puri. . .it’s a crunchy-ish sphere that gets cracked open with a spoon and a spicy lentil soup thing gets poured inside. You’re supposed to eat it like a shot. On the right, Shev Puri, is the same crunchy-ish spheres with spicy soup and lentils inside but then it has onions, tomatoes, hard lentils, and some awesomely crunchy/spicy stick things on top. The textural experience is the bomb dot com. The flavor is also delish! Both are only 30 rupees!
Many of our friends in Anjuna and long term guests at the Chill Inn have started migrating to other places to avoid the monsoon and work on projects or life stuff elsewhere. It’s the season of transition, of extra special cuddles, good times, and hopeful see-you-later’s. Maybe that’s why the mangoes taste so good. Their flavor carries us through to the next something in such a seductively sweet way.
Our final big hurrah was Amit’s. . .aka Magic Man’s. . . birthday. It was a blast, per usual, and we blamed it all on the boogie! Thanks to Ping Pong for capturing the best moments of the night. We danced, we laughed, and we ate one of the best cakes known to human kind!!! Brownies layered with custard and raspberry Jell-O. I mean, ’cause, why the hell not?! Okay, I confess, I did make the cake. . .but it was too good, I promise.
As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, there’s never a dull moment or person in Goa. This place attracts the most technicolor folks from all around the world. We’re just truly lucky that they come to our house sometimes. Remember, people out there, it’s all about the little things. . .like shiny smiles, colorful clothes, good vibes, and dancing souls! The love cup runneth over. Wait, it’s a fountain and it never stops!!!
Okay, that’s it. We’ve got heaps of magical things brewing behind the scenes right now and the winds of change are blowing. . .
I hope the winds of change and transition are blowing happily in your universe, too. . .wherever you are, near or far. May you always be goan good!