The feeling in my gut is still active and I’m beginning to accept that it’s homesickness. Not in an extreme form, I definitely don’t want to go home, it’s a feeling in my stomach that I recognize. I’m learning to interpret it in combination with the situation or the place I’m in.
The body is designed to send signals, and that’s exactly what mine did. I’m not sick, no diarrhea, just that gut feeling, that’s it. The new place in South Goa suits me way better: the atmosphere, the people, and the surroundings are a night-and-day difference. I was simply in the wrong spot before, and now things feel right again.
In the morning around 8:30, I walk to my yoga class and feel the stretches deeply. Lying in different poses, I sweat for 90 minutes straight in this jungle-treehouse. Staying active, from short walks to yoga classes or just taking the stairs with my 15kg backpack keeps me in shape. I don’t feel any pressure to do other sports or compensate training for all the delicious food. Overall, I feel energetic. I eat enough, not too much, healthy and I move every day, at least a little. It reminds me of my time in Amsterdam and the years when I trained intensely 4–5 times a week. For a long time, I saw that as the goal, not as a vehicle to be healthy. Resting is just as important — maybe even more so. That combination, along with the discipline to listen to my body, gives me the freedom to decide what I need. That’s different for everyone, and luckily, there’s something for everyone in terms of moving your body: “If you have a body, you’re an athlete.”
After my yoga class, I take a little walk and sit in the morning sun on a big rock after hopping playfully as a kid from stone to stone in my famous Crocs. I watch some fishing boats while listening to Otis Redding’s “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay”. A beautiful start to the day. The feeling in my stomach has faded by now. Back at the hostel, it’s calm. It’s a dry day, so no alcohol is sold and some shops are closed. For many, it’s a public holiday a long weekend. Lots of young people are traveling to Goa, so it’s lively but far from mass tourism.
I go exploring a beach further away with Harsh. He works for Amazon as a software engineer and is quite an introverted guy. We take his scooter to another town and go for a walk, a relaxed pace, feet in the sand, along the shoreline. It’s during moments like these that you really get to know someone and understand the country better as well. The different languages, religions, upbringings, his unforgettable Europe trip to Portugal, Málaga, Barcelona, and Ibiza, the politics at his job, and the places where he studied. Of course, he loves Western things, while Westerners are often drawn to the East. Many young Indians move within the country for studies, temporary jobs, or to live elsewhere for a while — it’s completely normal.
Harsh is uncertain about his next career move. He’s fed up with office politics, so I ask what alternatives he’s considering. “Doing a master’s,” he says. “Where?” I ask. “In Russia.” Naturally, my first instinct is to judge and there’s no need. When he explains about the ties and the support between Russia and India, I realize that I find people’s feelings far more interesting than their choices — not the colors they pick or debates about right or wrong. It teaches me not to judge and to stay open. The next person I meet might have a completely opposite story, and I can still feel compassion for that. It gives me peace and allows me to keep doing my own thing.
Back at the hostel, a girl tells me she’s extended her stay twice already and doesn’t want to go home. After a few Dr. Phil-style questions, she admits she feels a lot of pressure from her surroundings and her parents, who are basically forcing her to date someone. That’s also India and it teaches me more about humanity, my endless curiosity about people, everyone’s stories and struggles, and a deeper appreciation for the freedom in the country I come from.
I’ve noticed that in the evenings, especially in the later social hours, a lot of smoking happens! Hash or weed — I can’t tell the difference. Maybe it’s part of Goa and the free spirit of this place. I also sense many young people are numbing certain issues for a bit. That’s fine — it’s not a crime. I don’t feel tempted to try it myself, and I’m sure that thought alone will let my folks at home breathe a sigh of relief. I win twice at a card game — beginner’s luck, or maybe the others were just as high as a shrimp. Either way, I’m having a good time.
Traveling like this feels great, the mix of people and following my own rhythm when I want to given the less strings attached. The vibe in the hostel and the kind of people staying there really matter. This is a good place, and I’ve decided to stay here for a few nights before visiting a friend in North Goa.
If I had to sum up this blog in one word, it would be: humanity ❤️
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