Gypsies of the Blue
In 2009 I was
studying at Monash University, Melbourne. It was a liberating
experience, with professors who inspired me to write from the heart,
while also helping me discover who I am professionally. My core units
were Issues in international communication and Research & Travel
Writing. These units made me realise that by interacting with people
from different countries, and understanding their cultures while
being in a foreign country myself, I could really get a new
perspective.
I used to write my
assignments sitting on the beach, when the weather was about ten
degrees centigrade. People thought I was insane, but to me, it was
the perfect setting. An empty beach, the soothing ebb and flow of the
waves, a crisp breeze, absolutely no distractions whatsoever. I would
write the first draft of a 3000 word assignment in one sitting, and
go home to edit and polish them before submission.
One Thursday
afternoon, after what felt like a long day of research in the State
Library of Victoria, I decided to take the evening off and go to the
beach. I was nervous about my assignment, I'd had a restless night
before, I was annoyed with a few of my friends, and I just needed
some space.
I had been sitting
on the beach for about two hours, feeling alternately philosophical
and nihilistic, when I noticed four guys playing volleyball nearby. I
was surprised to note that these guys were as insane as I was,
playing volleyball in the cold sand. They seemed to be having a great
time, and their close friendship was evident.
As I took off my
shoes and socks and walked to the edge of the water, the ball came my
way. I tried to stop it in time, but it got caught in an ebbing wave
and I missed the block. Missing the block turned my currently
philosophical thought into a nihilistic one so fast that it could
have given my brain a whiplash. I kicked the wave in annoyance, and
walked away. As the guy came to pick up the ball, now neatly
deposited on the sand by another big wave, he smiled at me, only to
get a scowl in return. It occurred to me that the guy must have
thought me a grumpy lady, sick of life. Just as that thought
occurred, he stopped and asked me if I was OK. I nodded the typical
non-committal Indian nod.
I didn't expect him
to continue talking to me after that. But he did. He said, “Hey,
are you OK? You're not planning to walk into the water and hurt
yourself or something are you?” I was startled at that assumption.
I quickly assured him that I was fine, and that I was just in a bad
mood and was complaining to the waves about it. He smiled at me, told
me to take care and ran back to his friends.
I continued whining
and grumbling to the waves a few more minutes, collected my things
and went to the nearby pub.
As I was gulping a
delightfully huge glass of fruity stout, the four guys walked into
the pub and got a table at the other end from me, and ordered their
ales. I took out my phone and started playing a game on it. About ten
minutes later, the guy from the beach spotted me and walked up to my
table. He invited me to join him and his friends for a drink. They
seemed like decent guys, so I joined them and introduced myself as
'Shivi'. Their names were Aaron, Jake, Todd and Nathan. They were
from Sydney, and currently in Melbourne scouting venues for Jake's
wedding and as an impromptu Bachelor's vacation. Aaron was a lawyer
at a mid-size firm, Jake was a chartered accountant, Todd was a
teacher at a public school, and Nathan was a sports writer.
We spent about an
hour chatting about music and movies when Nathan asked me if I knew
of an alleyway with a plain white wall. He said that they wanted to
project a movie on a wall from their pick-up truck and chill out.
That really got me intrigued. How could you project a movie from a
truck?! I mentioned that about 300 meters up the road was an alley
that had just been painted white after a nasty graffiti incident. We
paid for our drinks, and headed to the alley, while Nathan drove up
in his pick-up. They had found a documentary about gypsies who
travelled all over the Caribbean, called Gypsies of the Blue. I
sounded fascinating to me, so when they invited me to join them, I
jumped at the chance.
Nathan maneuvered
his truck perpendicular to the wall, took out a projector from a box
under the passenger seat, and hooked it up to the top panel and
plugged one wire into the car system and another one into a laptop. I
stood fascinated, wondering why I had never thought of doing that
before. Then he turned the keys in the ignition, and BAM, the alley
wall had become a movie theatre.
We hopped onto the
back seating of the truck, and cracked open a six pack of beers, and
a few packs of chips. The movie was amazing, with stories of travel,
different foods, minimal expenditure, and a lot of new friends. It
occurred to me, that since I had friends in Sydney, that I could book
myself into a backpackers and travel on a shoestring budget too! I
made a mental note to plan that trip, and returned to watching the
movie.
After the movie
finished, we went to a little café nearby, grabbed a few slices of
pizza, and went our separate ways. I have no last names, addresses,
or details of those guys, but I do have the memory of having a
perfectly platonic evening with some nice guys who gave me a
brilliant idea for travel, and a relaxed and fun evening that made me
forget all about my troubles for the rest of that day.
When I got home that
night, I slept peacefully, knowing that the friends I had made that
evening and the experience I just had is exactly why studying in a
foreign country is so wonderful. The next day I figured out exactly
how to finish the assignment that had me worried, and later got a
high distinction on it with a note from my professor that said, “The
life of a travel writer never ends with one experience. Onward, Away
and Good-luck!”
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