GoaAt 12 or 13, I went to India with my family. The cultural differences came as a wonderfully intriguing chock. They way they respected the cows and let them walk around freely at the beach, the burning of trash and the insane traffic baffled me.
We stayed at a hotel called Vila Goesa, in Northern Goa, by Baga beach. On the short walk to the beach, we’d pass a ditch where trash was thrown and simply just set on fire. Fortunately, the smell didn’t reach the hotel or the beach.
The trips and activities that I remember most was the trips to secluded beaches, like Querim Beach and Arambol Beach, the trip to the Savoi Plantation, the tempels, the unbelievably cheap markets and of course – paragliding.
What really caught my mind and heart was the kindness and generosity of the people, how respectful they were, the poverty and their crazy driving. India was unlike anything I had ever seen, and it was the first time I realized how completely different cultures can be. It opened my eyes for the world in a way that I had never before experienced.