Golden Beach Cafe / Salsa night at Saaj

So, incorrigible as we are, we've been going out for dinner for the last two days. Two new places in the last two days. Sajj on Friday (for Salsa night) and Golden Beach Cafe yesterday. 'Twas fun!

Of Sajj we again heard of from our trusty Liberia expat google group. Its a Lebanese place and they had Salsa night on Friday. Well, tell you the truth, I'm not much of a dancer, but then, one's gotta have fun. So, I forwarded the invite to one of the young new guys in office, and then two more people joined in. And before I knew it, the 4 of us were in Sajj. It was nice. Good hummus and babaganoush with yum pita bread. And the pizza's not bad either. They even have club beer on tap! Oh and they had Salsa night, which basically constituted a very talented dance instructor type fella demonstrating the moves and some not-so-talented trying their best to keep up. One of the guys from our group even joined in for it. All in all, it was a great Friday night out! Didn't take any pictures though. I should have, no?

And yesterday, we'd gone for a walk (or a Wakabo, as they call it in Liberian English) with our trusty friend and colleage N. And instead of the usual walk along Payne Avenue in Sinkor, we found ourselves walking along the beach. And before we knew it, we'd decided to walk all the way up to the Golden Beach cafe (it had actually something to do with the fact that N hadn't joined us at Sajj the night before, and wanted to go out. And well, you know me, I could go out for dinner at the drop of a hat). So, we were just in time for the sunset. Photo dekho:



At the Golden Beach Cafe, Monrovia


Ok, don't grimace. That's the best photo quality I can get on a Blackberry. So, that's the Golden Beach cafe at sunset. Right on the Atlantic Ocean. The waves on this beach are, well, huge. Violent, if I can exaggerate a bit. Oh and the food here is okok. They do a decent Veg. Samosa and the Veg. Pizza wasn't bad either (Green Peas was one of the toppings, by the way). So, we ended Saturday by the beach with samosas and pizza (accompanied by a bit of Savannah). It was fun! Better than sitting at the compound watching Blood Diamond. That too in Hindi. Yes, LOL! Exactly my thoughts right now.

So, all in all, we're working hard and enjoying ourselves on weekends. We told you we'd go out. The cocoon is slowly unravelling, readers! Behold!

PS: I've changed the background picture. Would love to hear your thoughts on it!

"You can’t come here with European eyes"

Yes, readers, that title is borrowed from a very interesting article that was shared on the Liberia expats forum by someone today (read it here). Not so much of an article as an open letter, it is addressed to one Mr. John Humphreys, who apparently is a BBC reporter of much repute (read about him here). So, anyway, this letter, which is pretty forthright, calls Mr. Humphreys's bluff. It asks him to stop milking Africa for its sob stories. It asks him to look beyond. It asks him to look at Africa Rising (does that ring a bell, Indian readers? Heard of India Shining?). Yes of course, Africa does have its famines, starving children, illiteracy, coups; but then its also achieved a lot, and let me quote the letter, "(Africa has) been growing at rates we in the West can only dream about".

Much like India of not so long ago. The letter, you see, talks about two Africas, the "old" Africa and the "new" Africa. Reminds me of "India" and "Bharat". To the uninitiated, we still talk about two Indias back home. There's 'India', which is developed, with the shopping malls, mobile phones and what-have-you and there's 'Bharat' (the traditional word for our nation), which is the India of the farmer suicides, dowry deaths and the female infanticides. Wasn't long ago that India was reported about by the West only for the 'Bharat' now, was it? Why, we're still referred to as the land of the snake charmers in some quarters, aren't we?

The author of the letter, one Mr. Richard Dowden, he's not even from Africa. And yet, he calls upon Humphreys and those others of his ilk to report Africa as it is, not just the "new" Africa or the "old" Africa but the real Africa, whichever one of the two presents itelf. He beautifully sums it up in his appeal to Humphreys and BBC in general. Let me quote the letter again, "Help our government – and your bosses – to understand that £1 spent on a good BBC World Service does more for development in Africa than £100 spent on aid." Which is quite true, because, well, all I knew of Africa before I came here a few months ago was through watching BBC, CNN and other such reportage of the continent. Point to ponder, eh?

So, good luck and godspeed to you, Mr. Dowden! Its only a matter of time before Africa goes the India way. After all, there isn't any place else in the world that's left to develop now, is there?

Inertia

Incredible inertia. That's what is happening to me these days. What is it, I wonder? Is it laziness? Boredom? Am I just not excited enough? What is it? I really can't seem to figure out. Whatever it is, I really gotta shake it off. I really want to make Liberia happen for me.

O, and in case you were wondering, I didn't go to the TED video thing on Wednesday. And I also did not go to the mapping party yesterday. Why am I doing this to myself? If there is enough entertainment / amusement / excitement around, why am I not accessing it? Is it the guilt of not having accomplished enough that is making me deprive myself? Or is it the deprivation that is making this inertia happen?

Could think of that one till the cows come home.... :)

Iss Sheher mein....

I listen to 'sheher mein, hun main tere', the song from Rockstar, as I sit at my laptop and contemplate (nay, fantasize) about going to tomorrow's TED talks session at Ushahidi. The child in me says I'll meet interesting people. I'll make lasting friendships. I'll finally meet some nice people here. But the adult in me knows, I might not even go for it. I'll let you know how it goes. I must get out of this compound. Its getting suffocating. The same people everyday. Night and Day. You live with them. You work with them. This is what happens when work and home are in the same building, nay, on the same floor.

So, well, my first post in a long time. First post from Liberia, from Africa. And I don't have anything interesting to report.

Kenyan Giraffe

Or, do I? Actually, yes. Upar dekho. Thanks to Kenya Airways, who decided to take off from Mumbai 3 hours late, I missed my flight onward to Monrovia. And had to spend 2 days in Nairobi. And it is there that I got to go to the Nairobi national park. And we saw giraffes, zebras, wildebeests and lots of other animals. Pity we didn't have a good camera. the E72 served its purpose though. Not bad, that photo above, is it?

But since then? Nothing interesting to report. We've just been vegetating intellectually. Not that we haven't been doing anything at all. Work-wise, life has been busy. But aside from work, there's hardly anything we have done this last 1 month plus that we have been in Liberia. Its high time we do something. Kuch kiya jaaye, kya boltaay?

Reflections from a Heritage Walk at 1 am

We were bored. And we were wondering what to do. So, after dinner, we ditched the roommate and we went for a movie. Alone. We think that going alone for a movie is the most uplifting experience ever. It is the ultimate declaration of your independence, your assertion that you don't need anyone. Not even to go see a movie. Its a strangely uplifting feeling that can get you to enjoy the crappiest of movies. Try it sometime.



So, well, the movie was kinda ok. Tabu was at her loveliest and we loved the way she looked. And that voice! Oh my God! Drops of caramel dipped in hot chocolate... Sharman was good too. But well, he is not justifying his kind of talent with the kind of movies he is doing.



So, anyways, the movie ended. And as we had ditched the roommate and had no way to get back home, we walked. Walked all the way back from the theater. And instead of coming back home directly, we strayed.



Fontainhas, my friends, is beautiful by night. Even more than it is by day. And there's hardly anyone there. So you can enjoy the beauty of the place all by yourself. Sure there's always one of those drunken revelers (today's a Saturday night, remember?) who want to just speed by you with loud thumping music. Why would someone want to whoosh pass such beauty, methinks?And then I ask myself, haven't I also been doing the same thing up until now? Seriously, these days we have been working so hard that even if we do get some free time, we don't know what to do with it. Because we've forgotten all that we used to do in our sexy single free time. Gosh! I need to get hold of a good book! Suggestions please.



So, anyways, its a beautiful Fontainhas at night. We sure wish we can live there in one of those small little heritage places that you have to climb an impossible number of steps to get into. The very mystery of those dark, dinghy steps is enthralling. And then maybe we could run a small eatery or a little microbrewery in one of those. How fun would that be!

random drunk writing...

ok, so i haven't posted here in a while now. guilty as charged. so, here goes, a piece of drunk writing i did in my final year of college, preserved and reproduced as under:

Inertia versus Action

‘Change’, as they say, is inevitable. An ability to change what one can and live with what one cannot would lead to Happiness. Happiness, over here, does not mean those momentary material pleasures that one experiences but something more lasting and enduring.

One can either accept change or try to resist it. Either reaction to change is an attempt to reach the same end, Happiness. Happiness must not be seen as an end. It is the path that one traverses on the way to the goal. To see matters from this perspective is a difficult task. So, if we accept that the process is superior to the goal, then we might as well accept the change and move on.

Sometimes, we embark upon tasks that are seemingly impossible. Why do we do this? It is Hope that drives us on. It answers the ever-present question of ‘what if…?’ by making us actually do what we are passionate about.

Thus, the original dilemma remains: ‘Whether to accept change or to resist’. To accept change would be to derive pleasure in the journey whereas to resist it would be to strive to reach the goal nevertheless. None of these alternatives seem rather appealing for the time, and so I resign to Hope that tomorrow will be a better day, irrespective of my actions today.

A year in Goa...

Hi Blog! Longgggg time no c... A year living in Goa now. And I am still the same. You would think I would've gotten a girlfriend by now, tried coke / hash / at least weed, partied my arse off, indulged in groupsex (ok, now that's taking things too far, but what the heck! we're just imagining). Yeah, even I thought that after so much time in Hippie Heaven, I could tick most of those boxes. But, unfortunately, you know what? I haven't done any of those things. And, surprisingly, there's a part of me that's ok with it. Is that abnormal? Am I growing old? Or is it just who I am? Or I'm just chickenshit. I guess we'll never find out.

Anyways, being here for a year now has made me realise a few things about Goa:

1. Contrary to popular belief, all Goans (or Goenkars as they are called in Konkani) don't run hotels or restaurants or bars or wineshops. There is a huge chunk of people that is engaged in serious economic activity. I'm talking REAL people. With REAL jobs. Who go to work everyday and come back home to the wife. I know its quite obvious, every place has that group of people. But I always thought of this place as a tourist place with nothing else to it. Well, call me naive!

2. That brings me to my second point. Did you know that tourism is not the only big money-grosser for Goa. There's also iron ore mining. A huge chunk of the state's revenue comes from mining and allied industry (logistics etc.), which is now taking a huge beating, as all commodities are.

3. Tweeting (www.twitter.com/nvavi) is taking out all the blogging from me. Ok, this isn't a realisation about Goa, but nevertheless. Its a good thing, this tweeting. But, is it an alternative to blogging? Its like one big blog gets taken out you bit by bit, each tweet you do. Or does it.

I think that should make for another blog post. Ciao for now, fellas