What can I even write? Don't the pictures say it all? I got to spend yesterday by the beach, on the beach and in the water. The ocean is warm, but not too warm, and very very salty. The waves are perfect for splashing around in, but never scary. It's still a little strange for me to wear a bikini in India, I keep thinking the modesty police is going to come out and scold me, but there are certainly people here wearing much less.
The beach is expansive, in all directions, with shacks set up all along it. Each shack has it's own music (frequently the backstreet boys are competing with the techno next door), lounge chairs, and umbrellas. Children come by selling puffed rice snacks, and both the kids and the snacks are irresistible. It's often difficult to see such young girls and boys working. At night there are eight or nine year olds spitting and spinning fire, and it's sort of disgusting. I know how painful it can be, and to think of it as a compulsion as opposed to an obsessive hobby... it's just not that fun to watch. But the kids with the snacks are so clever, so funny, such savvy business people, it's a marvel to see and talk to them. Equally awe-inspring are the guys working at the beach that seem to know just enough of every language to get people to come sit, eat, drink and laugh with them. We made friends with the guy who was serving us, and he would chat with us in Hindi, until her had to run after some people walking across the beach, crooning to them in Russian to pick his shack over any of the other hundred. Of course, this ability didn't stop them from completely disbelieving my Hindi knowledge. No worries though, that look of surprise when I start to speak, is my favorite thing. Ok, back to the beach!
Love,
Violet
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