Loads of different scenarios were playing out through my head. My other thought was that my backpack with my passport was back at this kid's house with his cousins. At least I was far away from the head hancho. These younger guys just seemed to do the dirty work. I tried not to show my worry and walked back to my 'friend'.

I grabbed a Kingfisher from the beach bar and watched another beautiful sunset disappear over the Arabian Sea. We walked through the beachside markets and witnessed a fight between some local kids and shop merchants. I tried to still enjoy the time I had in a new unfamiliar area before figuring out my plan.

I then decided I would go back, grab my bag, and explain that I was going to stay at a guest house on the beach that night. Upon returning I was greeted with lots of kindness and the hippy asked if I would like to smoke a joint which I couldn't turn down, it would be impolite. Even given the newly discovered information I received via the internet I still had a sense of trust with these guys. They were genuinely interested in the Western world and wanted to know everything I thought about India.

After some deep talks in the common area they asked if I wanted to stay for dinner. I told them that I should get going and they insisted I stay as their guest and at least have a bite to eat before leaving. I truly did want to stay and enjoy an authentic home-cooked India meal so I finally agreed. Their next question was whether I wanted veg or chicken, to which I replied chicken. Everywhere in India you go you are always given the opportunity to choose veg or non-veg.

They told to me that they were Muslim so we would have to eat Halal. I had eaten Halal before but had no idea what actually makes a meal Halal. They explained that we had to go purchase a live chicken, one of them would slaughter it while uttering a prayer, and then prepare it in their own kitchen. I was highly intrigued and asked if I could go with to see this all go down. 

I hopped back on the moto up the road and then down a sketchy alleyway. There it was in all its blood and feather laden glory, the local butcher shop. It was run by an older man and who I assumed was his about 10 year old son. The lads I was with seemed to be telling the man that we wanted a chicken but they would have to sever the neck. I got my phone out and recorded the whole situation. I didn't want to forget that moment. I was surprised at how slow the whole operation went down. It seemed more inhumane then the fast cut of the neck which I saw him do for another customer. For the squeamish I will skip further details. But for those who want to see it, you can watch here. Viewer discretion is advised:

I offered to pay for the bird, about 150 rupees (~2 euro), and after everything was bagged up I grabbed the warm package and it was back to the house to prepare the meal. I stayed in the living room and watched the Indian film, PK on their shared laptop. The film had no subtitles so your man was trying to explain to me what was happening the whole time. It was actually a good lesson in Hindi and Indian culture. A pretty weird movie as well which I appreciated.

We watched the whole movie before dinner was served. We had a spicy chicken curry with veg, lentils, rice, and chapati bread. It was absolutely delicious. We all sat there cross-legged devouring and not having much conversation. After the meal we all lit up Indian cigarettes called Bidi and talked about how good the meal was. I told them I was grateful for the hospitality and the meal but that I had to go look for a place to stay. When I looked at my phone it was about 11:30pm. They explained that it might be too late to find accommodation at that time and that I was welcome to stay with them. Your man said he wanted to learn as much from me and teach me as much as he could about India before I had to leave. I hesitantly agreed and we all stayed up for another hour smoking and talking about our lives and pop culture.

They had 2 bedrooms but didn't like to sleep in them because of the heat. They put down 5 cloth mats and a pillow for each of us so we could all sleep together in the living room with all of the windows and doors open and the fan on full blast overhead. It reminded me of the sleepovers I used to have in grade school. It felt very comforting and protective that we were all together.

The next morning I woke a little anxious. I was so happy of the experiences I had hanging out with my new friends and the hospitality that they showed me but also wanted some time to myself. I asked your man if he could take me back to Anjuna so I could catch a cab to Panjim. It would be a far trek for him to take me all the way. He asked if I still wanted to do business with his cousin to which I said I didn't think so but agreed to speak with him one last time. I gave all of my new friends a hug and it was off to Anjuna. 

Upon my arrival at the house it looked as though some other foreigners were leaving. I wanted to warn these people but didn't want to make a commotion and set anything off. I walked into the house sat down with the geologist and told him that I wasn't interested. He told me that I was letting him and his people down. I explained to him that I was sorry but this just wasn't the right decision for me at that time and walked out. I said goodbye to my friend and walked to the market to find a cab to Panjim. The sooner I was to get away from this the better.

I found a cab a short while later, agreed to a price, and finally a wave of calm came over me. I stared out the window overlooking the coast playing the last 36 hours back in my head as we made our way into the capitol city. What a ride.