FOURTEEN -The night out with the gods

When we first arrived at Lucia's Guest House in Sinquerim, we heard about a banana festival, which we failed to get to in time.
So when we heard about the Hindu festival at a local temple, we determined to go along.
The temple is tiny, but all day long the local people had been buzzing up there, and the atmosphere was very exciting. Apparently the high spot was a performance to be held in the evening at about 10 or 10.30. The host at our guest house told us that he had enjoyed going along as a boy, sitting on a mat at the front, watching the theatrical performance, so it sounded exciting.
We walked up at about 9.30 to see masses of people walking round stalls, piled high with bright plastic toys, geegaws, pretty bangles, CDs, fried chick peas, and, much to my surprise, hoop-la stalls. You know the kind, you throw a ring over a bottle. In this case, the bottles were Kingfisher beer, and coke or fanta.
We sat waiting in a covered space for the show, on red plastic chairs, with ceiling decorated with what was like frilly lampshades only much, much bigger. At the front was a small stage with huge sound systems set up, and some young men messing about with electronic instruments. An hour went by. At one side of the space, people went to their devotions in the temple, decorated with flowers.
A few more young men joined us, in a circle all round the edge of the central area , where we thought the performance would take place. But no. A large tarpaulin was put down and on it, the local young ladies came to sit, with their children, and some older ladies. Eventually the whole central space was filled.
At 10.45 the performance began, and it was not exciting Indian dancing or theatre, but a singer on the stage, dressed in western clothes, belting out a song, not very well, and particularly western in style. He was the warm up. The next two singers were a bit better. But it was slow going.
The Goan Lark was a bit more interesting, for at least he was smartly dressed in a blue tunic and tight white trousers, and had a high, pleasing tenor voice.
Anyway, we left then, feeling rather disappointed! I did have a red spot of powder on my forehead, though, which made me feel rather exotic.