It is going to be 24 years since the first Russian charter touched down on Goan soil. The rich Russians, who were the first to land, opted to stay in five-star resorts, but in around seven years, there was a change in class, and the new arrivals preferred three-star hotels and guest houses.
The Russians are still coming – the first charter of the season is expected to arrive in October this year – and the coastal belt along the extreme north of Goa will continue to be their main stay – ‘away from rush of civilisation’.
The sun is about to set in Arambol and with the rain taking a break after the early evening showers, Natalia orders a hot cup of coffee as she sits with a plate of bhajiya, a snack savoured by locals, and now, by tourists, too.
“We (Russians),” says the lady from Russia who has been returning to Goa for the last three years, “prefer Arambol, and many have shifted towards Querim because of the space that these places offer us.”
That the Russians have come to stay for a long time is evident from many things Russian along the coastal belt – there are restaurants with Russian menu cards, there are sign boards in Russian, there is Russian art for sale and Russian interpreters, too.
“There is a tendency to label us as cheap tourists. No doubt, accommodation is cheaper in these areas, but for many of us involved in various forms of art, working from Goa is a better option than doing it from home in Russia. War is a terrible uncertainty,” she confesses.
Her friend, who offers yoga classes says, “We get a decent room with a washroom and kitchen for roughly 3,000 Russian ruble – one ruble equals 0.91 rupee – and the vegetables are not expensive in the market. Fish is affordable when the catch is good, otherwise most Russians are not foodies.”
“When we first came to these parts of Goa, the locals spoke as little English as we did, and we communicated through sign language which is good. It gives us our space which we are very particular about,” she explains.
“I charge Rs 3,500 to Rs 4,000 during the off season, and if I have guests staying for long, I offer them a discount,” discloses Vaikunth, who rents out a room within his cashew plantation.
“They pay their bills on time, and rarely meet us for anything. They hardly trouble us during their stay. We live our lives, and they, theirs,” he says as he opens his umbrella before he makes his way home.
Natalia and her fellow Russian friends in the north, and Vaikunth and fellow guestroom owners in Arambol and beyond, have a thing in common – respect for their space.
It is going to be 24 years since the first Russian charter touched down on Goan soil. The rich Russians, who were the first to land, opted to stay in five-star resorts, but in around seven years, there was a change in class, and the new arrivals preferred three-star hotels and guest houses.
That the Russians have come to stay for a long time is evident from many things Russian along the coastal belt – there are restaurants with Russian menu cards, there are sign boards in Russian, there is Russian art for sale and Russian interpreters, too.
Russians are not only to be found in the North, but in the south, too. Drive to Agonda or Patnem, and you will meet Russians there, or even at many villages along the southern coastal belt.
Anya is in her mid-40s and walks briskly as a rain cloud seems set to burst over her. Dressed to weather the rains, she stops, smiles and says, “Goa is best in the rains. I do not get this in Russia or anywhere else. Plus,” she hastily adds. “there are few people to disturb my peace.”
The monsoon in Goa, offers solitude or peace of mind to tourists who prefer to stay back, develop spiritually or even start a journey of self-discovery.
“This is one place in India, I feel safe living alone,” admits Anya whose admission is slowly opening up a window that shows an unseen Goa during the rains.