I somehow couldn't manage to get out of India without heading to Goa one more time.
But, as I've said before, Goa is a whole new world when it's tourist season, and I couldn't have been happier to go to see Shailendra (DF logistics coordinator aka "the man") marry Kavita.
We spent time chilling on the beach, only this time I was sand-challenged: crutches and a cast that opened AT THE TOE (ideal for inviting sand inside and not letting it back out). But I managed, staying in fairly (fairly) good humor. ;) Am I talented or what?! The first night we stayed at a hotel on the beach with Lesley and Pio, Brian and Heather and some of their other friends, but with no A/C and a huge, cotton-swabbed cast on my leg, I respectfully pardoned myself and moved to an A/C hotel the next night, convincing Dulcie and Kraemer to come, too. And then I slept.
Before the big day, Kraemer purchased a dress kurta and pants and somewhat matching set for Brian, a friend of Lesley's from DC. Dulcie dressed me in my sari, which I'd come to find even more difficult now that I had four legs. I hobbled up the stairs into the wedding, much to the amusement of hundreds of guests, and sat myself in the back.
As expected, the colors were vibrant, the crowds large, the food bountiful and the music about blew us out of our seats (Shai later told me he didn't even notice it, he was so absorbed with the ceremony and intent on Kavita!) We also got a chuckle out of the Indian love for Wonderbread.
Later we spent an evening investigating the one of the town's famed night markets, where vendors packed into countless cells and hung their wares on the walls and outer racks. Clothes, jewelry, CDs, shoes, wooden pieces, food, beer, you name it - it was all there. Many of the sellers were Indian, but there were also a fair number of hippy tourists who had come to India and never left. Dulcie marched resolutely before me up and down the rows, swinging her arms from side to side in front of her like she was swatting away gnats and shouting at people to make room for "the cripple." We stayed to watch some music, but we were too pooped to hang out very long.
Our taxi man was also less than honest, getting stopped by the police because he didn't have the proper license to cross the border as a driver and making us pay the fees. Boo.