ABU. To Be Who You Are. A. Manvayler
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Название: ABU. To Be Who You Are
Автор: A. Manvayler
Издательство: Издательские решения
Жанр: Современная русская литература
isbn: 9785449634016
isbn:
Then it was the turn completely unexpected services: ears cleaners; ladies with threads, offering you instant depilation right on the beach; masseurs of any parts of the body or the whole body.
Next, the guys with mountain like hairdo, shaking different sized bed-sheets of Indian gods. Boys with metal-bucket selling masala tea in tiny disposable cups. Sellers of figurines made of stone, wood, glass, plastic, metal; tattoo-masters with catalogs of designs; girls in sari with henna tubes offering mehndi.
“Everything was in confusion in the Oblonskys’ house…” L. Tolstoy
As soon as one was sent off, the next ones came to replace them: “Ma’am-ma’am, look”. Neither the closed eyes, nor the disregard, nor the shouts of “no-no” – absolutely nothing helped. There were even roving acrobats with performances evoking pity. Everything happened compulsively, unceremoniously and, most importantly, without break.
Even in Indian cinemas there is an intermission, but not on the beach. I have never seen such a thing and never got tired of being surprised. Polina was irritated to the limit and did not want to stay at the beach for a minute. And we moved to the pool of our hotel.
I had to adjust and compensate her in everything. Besides, she was very limited in means, and I helped her not to be frugal on vacation. But everyone has different understanding of leisure. I so much wanted to see everything possible in this amazing country, to learn a new world, culture, religion, customs, rituals, people’s way of life, attitude to life and death. But, alas – I could not impose my interests for a simple reason – I paid for all the entertainments, I was also the initiator of the trip. I had to pay for Polina. Clubs, hangouts, parties, restaurants, discos, revelry are not interchangeable with something else, but with each other. We tasted and become addicted to quite popular and cheap rum “The Old Monk”. Sometimes it would hit me, and I would remember my intentions, saying :
“Despite some personal discomfort, we are already here in Goa, and let’s not just find the minuses in our abode, but also the blessing. It’s a privilege for me to be here. Let’s go somewhere”. Polia replied categorically: “Was the bus ride across the country to Morocco not enough for you? Relax”. And we continued to hang out. And explored the state on our own in local buses.
The independence of judgments is the privilege of a few. The rest are led by authority and example. I tried to be calm about everything, as I already knew that time will put everything in its place. I’ve had enough of examples around me in my 40 years, and I did not want to follow any of them. I was looking for myself, I was looking for my Way. In this atomic age, with its secret fears, man seeks guidance.
“Consciously or unconsciously, we are searching for God” Carl Jung.
In India, thanks to the tolerance to faiths in the country, there are millions of Gods. Representatives of all confessions of the world coexist together. But Goa is a predominantly Catholic state, since the Portuguese brought and forcibly imposed Christianity.
We got to Old Goa. The mass of parishioners in the church was the first thing that struck me in Goa. Crowds of dark-skinned people flashily appearing in bright satin shirts and dresses, branded shoes, carrying shiny bags and haughtily marching along the dusty roads cutting through the resting cows and the chaotic movement of everything that can move. Mario Miranda, a local cartoonist, became the most popular for the accuracy of the displayed farce. Even without comments.
To my surprise, Goa turned out to be an Asian Vatican, the center of Catholicism throughout Asia.
But in the churches, garlands of fresh orange flowers were hanging on the statues of saints and near the entrance you can see dozens of pairs of slippers lined up by pure memory, Indians tourists, entering any temple, take off their shoes or footwear, be it Hindu temple, Sikh gurudwara or Muslim mosque and, according to their usual customs, go inside barefoot. Therefore, there is synthesis of religions at every step. Despite the pathos and the endeavor of the Goans to look Christians, they are more like Mario Miranda’s parody of believers, masquerades, clowns. The fragile Christian traditions of 451 years of colonization, imbibed historical Vedic roots.
Comicality began with the naming of the Basilica of Bom Jesus and ended with Saint Ignatius of Loyola, a holy libertine, to whom the phrase “the end justifies the means” belongs. It is enough anecdotal. It seems that this is the Russian 101st-kilometer, where all the “undesirable elements” were exiled, or Portuguese Australia, where the condemned Englishmen served their sentence. However, the city of Tula is famous not only for samovars, gingerbread, gunsmiths and harmonics. Here, 101st km from Moscow, Peter the Great sent the famous Lefty, “who nailed the flea”. I’m used to it. But the analogies amused me.
Goans give away the satanically suspended upside down five-pointed stars, for the Bethlehem star, indicating the birthplace of Jesus. Christmas installations on dirty dusty roads and in the doorways don’t go well with the widespread signs of Swastika and Om. It reminds the Catholics that there is no need to wait for the judgment day, it takes place every day.
Darwin discovered that the plant and animal world does not exist by themselves but adapt to each other. St. Francis Xavier, and then the Inquisition converted the heathens into Christianity, not hesitating in the means as long as the goal was justified. Likewise, the Goans, opportunists, took the European names for themselves and decided that this was enough for a demonstrative change of faith in order to get their privileges from the colonialists.
Before the arrival of righteous Catholics, local residents of Goa managed to live peacefully under the Islamic Sultanate of Yusuf Adil Shah. Local residents since 1510 migrated, others died, while others descended from barren money trees, like the Darwinian dryopithecines, and adapted to life on earth under the names of others. It is not surprising that now Muslims, in particular, have fun at the expense of modern local Catholics.
Catholic Goans funnily, they look like colonial atavists. After all, in Goa, no one speaks and more so does not think in Portuguese. And the native language is considered the one in which you can think. By the way, the services in the temples are held according to the schedule: either in Konkani, local Goan language, or in Marathi, the language of the state of Maharashtra, or in Kannada, the language of the neighboring state of Karnataka, and even in English.
In fact, the first visit to Goa, apart from delight, surprises and a lot ofimpressions, brought me the first scars on the body. One of our Indian acquaintances, speaking fluently in Russian, volunteered to show us the northern beaches of Goa. We were delighted and agreed.
In the darkness, the full moon was shining brightly diluting the darkness so that one could feel like a cat, since visibility remained good for the human eye. We bewitchingly looked at the moon. Suddenly something like a black velvet curtain blocked the moonlight along with the moon itself. Eclipse. It was a bad sign, so I felt. Polia did not attach much importance to this. But I became anxious for some reason. The moon had nowhere failed to influence me.
Suddenly the Russian-speaking Indian returned, but not alone. Explaining to us that we will go on two motorcycles, so he had invited a friend. Polia liked the friend – СКАЧАТЬ