Retiring to one's roots TheStar.com Feb. 13, 2006. 01:00 AM PRITHI YELAJA STAFF REPORTER
One in an occasional series from India by the Star's Prithi Yelaja, on the extraordinary relationship that binds Toronto to the world's largest democracy. Previous stories and a web journal may be read at http://www.thestar.com. CANDOLIM, GOA-Like many other retired Torontonians, Rita and Vishnu Mathur went seeking the sun this winter, but instead of trekking off to a condo in Florida, they've found their version of an oceanside paradise here on India's southwest coast. They're among a growing number of foreign citizens - Europeans, Indian expats from Britain, and a few intrepid Canadians, even some with no roots in India - drawn to Goa by a fine climate, low cost of living, and cosmopolitan culture, advantages that for many outweigh the potential drawbacks of retiring in India. Each day for the Mathurs ends with a beach walk timed to catch the sun setting in a cloudless sky over the Arabian Sea. "We feel if we don't see it every day, we've really missed something magical," says Rita, 60, an editor. The Mathurs decided to buy a place in this former Portuguese colony, one of India's top beach destinations, three years ago. Candolim is 12 kilometres from Panaji, Goa's capital. "It's not that we're running away from snow so much - the added advantage here is returning to our roots," says Vishnu, 71, who left New Delhi for Canada in 1976 and was a producer/director for CBC's The Nature of Things for 15 years. Adds Rita: "It's like we have one foot here and one foot in Canada. Every time we come back here, we feel renewed." Foreigners are free to buy real estate in India, but with limits: The law requires that any money invested here must stay in the country, and for the first year, buyers must be in residence for 181 days and file income tax. That didn't put off the Mathurs' next-door neighbours in Candolim, another Toronto couple - Joan Holben and Moishe Goldberg - who happen to live in the same Annex neighbourhood back home. "People think we're off the wall. We have friends who say they'll never go to India. They still perceive it as some dump on the other side of the world," adds Holben, 66, a painter who has had a love affair with India since she came here in 1965 to build schools for the Anglican Church. "We'd be coming to India even if there was no snow to escape from. It's fabulous." One of the attractions is undoubtedly the low cost of living. With an exchange rate of about 38 rupees to the dollar, Canadian currency goes a long way, says Goldberg, 71, a retired equipment installer for Nortel. "Everything here is a drop in the bucket compared to what you'd have to pay in Florida." The Mathurs' airy, 1,600-square-foot flat, with two bedrooms and two baths, cost $50,000, including lifetime maintenance fees. Property tax is about $23 a year, power and water a little more than $5 a month. And health care is not a concern, insists Jay Bajaj, 59, an independent filmmaker who bought an apartment in the same complex to enjoy when he's not ensconced in his Toronto waterfront co-op. Bajaj has diabetes and heart problems, but like the other Canadians doesn't bother with insurance because quality care is so cheap. A doctor's visit is 100 rupees, or $2.60; a month's supply of insulin costs less than $5, compared with $23 in Canada. A home visit from an Ayurvedic masseuse costs about $5.20. A bachelor who left New Delhi in 1971, Bajaj explored more typical retirement options before settling on India. "Even though Mexico and Cuba are closer, I don't speak the language and the food didn't appeal to me," he says, sipping a beer on his balcony. Florida was too expensive. "Even though it's far, Goa is still home. It's much more fun." The Mathurs used to own a similar-size apartment in an upscale Mumbai neighbourhood, but were glad to flee the city's pollution and congestion for the Candolim flat, which they purchased for one-seventh of what the old place 's selling price. "We decided on Goa because it's so laid back and cosmopolitan at the same time. You have a swirl of people coming from everywhere but it's still very quiet," says Rita, as she prepares fresh mussels for lunch with her Goan friend Veronica. "In Florida, we'd be bored," says Vishnu. "Here, around the pool and at the beach you'll meet people from all over the world, so it's very multicultural that way, just like Toronto." Days start with a beach walk, followed by reading, calling on friends, or research for a Vision TV documentary they're making on the sacred animals of India. The New York Times comes weekly with their Indian paper. Do they miss anything from Toronto? "Good wine, cheese and dark chocolate. We used to bring pasta and extra virgin olive oil with us, but now most things are available here," says Rita. For Holben, Goa is a painter's delight, with friendly people, vibrant colours and the ocean nearby. "I look at it like cottage life here - very simple and relaxed," adds Goldberg. There is no one-stop home-improvement shopping here, which has meant a lot of trips to Panaji to order furniture, buy appliances and hire carpenters. "I'm old enough that one of the things I appreciate about this place is it takes me back to childhood," says Goldberg. Most things must be custom made. "It's like stepping back 60 years in time." It's not all carefree. Buying property in India does require patience and some extra cash slipped into documents at the land registry office to get things done, the couple advises. "Bribery is the name of the game," laughs Holben. The bank draft they sent from Toronto on Jan. 2 to pay for the property took weeks to clear, though officials were unfailingly polite about the delay. "When we waited at the bank for two hours they served us tea," says Goldberg. "Either you adjust to their way of doing things or you go crazy. We come from such an instant society. I think Indians are fed up with foreigners who want everything now," adds Holben. The two plan to spend about two months a year in India, using Goa as a base to travel to more rural areas. "Goa is great but it's all European. One must not delude oneself that this is the real India," says Holben. It's not quite the old Goa, either. Goa had languished as a haven for hippies and smugglers since the 1960s, not attracting upscale tourists or much investment until the late 1980s, when the state made a concerted effort to clean up drugs and crime. An underworld of prostitution and drugs still flourishes, with Russian and Nigerian gangs fighting for dominance, according to a recent exposé in the local Gomantak Times. But tourists rarely see Goa's seedy side, insists Suraj Morajkar, who builds upscale vacation homes. "Crime won't be an issue for you unless you go looking for trouble." Goa's status as a vacation hot spot was bolstered when the film industry started using it for shoots. Some upscale furnished apartments and bungalows now sell for up to $250,000 (U.S.) "It's a very hot market," says Morajkar. Mumbai developer Aubrey D'Souza built a gated project called Sunshine Park here in 1995. Its 80 units, surrounding a courtyard landscaped with hibiscus and bougainvillea, have been bought mostly by Indian expatriates from England. "With their pensions, they can live here like kings," says D'Souza. "I actually didn't advertise at all. Those who bought told their friends and family about it." Nearby are the resorts of Baga, Calangute and Anjana, where, at clubs like Mambos and Titos, young Indians and foreigners gyrate to hip hop and techno until 5 a.m., as the scent of hash and marijuana drifts through the air. Clubs aren't legally allowed to play loud music after midnight, but police are paid to look the other way. "During the (tourist) season, there are no rules," laughs Niki, 28, a secretary in Panaji. By noon, "shack boys" who work at open-air huts are ferrying cold beer and snacks to pale-skinned sunbathers jamming the beach, many of them topless. Bryan Adams croons over the loudspeakers. Just down the road is the five-star Taj Fort Aguada Hotel, where rooms go for $105 a night. And Panaji has a vibrant arts scene. The strip is popular with Europeans on package vacations. In peak season, October to March, thousands of Indians like Dinesh Naikwadi, 40, from Karnataka, flock to Goa hoping to make some fast cash. Naikwadi earns about $138 a month doing massages on the beach - paying police a bribe of about $27 to ignore a bylaw that prohibits hawkers there. It's just the price of doing business, he says. Far from feeling exploited, Naikwadi says he's grateful. In Goa he earns enough to support his wife, mother and three children for the rest of the year. "It puts food in our stomachs," he says with a grin. The Mathurs fret that Candolim will lose its charm. But Goldberg just shrugs: "At our age, you can't worry about such things. Whatever happens, happens." The Torontonians meet frequently to chat at their own hangout: the Kingfisher, a beach hut that serves liquor as well as meals. To them, it's paradise, though Holben doubts many other Canadians will follow them to Goa. "It's a long hike - two big, long flights. You're just not going to do it unless you really love India." Prithi Yelaja may be reached at [EMAIL PROTECTED]
