Dichotomy of small town Gokarna

It was an impromptu trip. Gokarna — a town in Karnataka’s Uttara Kannada district — was where I landed up with five friends early one Saturday morning. Stepping out of the bus that took us there, the first sight was that of priests pacing lethargically down the narrow bylanes, a characteristic feature of towns in coastal Karnataka.

Gokarna dwells in stark dichotomy. Walking further down, the conflict in culture became more and more apparent as I noticed small kiosks selling hippie-like clothes on one side, swarmed by young Indian and foreign tourists, and pious devotees flocking to tribal folk selling flowers and other puja items on the other. For those who don’t know Gokarna, it’s a prominent pilgrimage centre for the Hindus. Its legacy can be traced back to Hindu mythological texts, and its beaches are a tourist hotspot (touted to be the poor man’s Goa).  

For us, the temples weren’t a priority to begin with. There was only so much temple architecture we could marvel at, but the beach shacks were a different matter altogether. A shack on Gokarna’s famous Om Beach was where we headed next — after consulting an auto driver who assured us shacks were the “cheap and best option”. 

The driver could — well — converse in good, broken English, an indication that at least some of the locals had begun to assimilate into the current dominant culture, that of the tourists. Tourism has obviously opened avenues for the locals in Gokarna, but you’ll still find many who openly express their displeasure at the sight of tourists, especially in the main town largely inhabited by the orthodox Brahmin caste.

While there, I sought nothing more than some peace and quiet. Nevertheless, exploring the place was on the agenda, too. The first evening was spent relaxing and exploring Om Beach, reserving the rest for the morning next. With Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha in hand, I lounged by the sea-side until sunset. Early next morning, we set out to the nearest beach — Kudle, which turned out to be filthy. We then traversed further, to two other prominent beaches: Half Moon and Paradise. 

Gokarana’s beaches are decked with a rocky shoreline, typically lined with porous, dark-brown rocks colonised by crabs that scurry away at the merest hint of movement. The fishermen we chatted with complained of depleted resources. Before Gokarna became a hit on the tourist trail, they said they would catch fewer fish and squid. “But then the demand rose and we fished more. Now, there are days we catch nothing at all,” said the slightly disgruntled fisherman. While he clearly pointed towards over-fishing, another squarely blamed the tourists, specifically foreign tourists, for all the ills. He seemed to disapprove of the hippie lifestyle. A small, still largely conventional town, Gokarna seemed to have found it hard to digest the tourists’ way of life.

Tourism has made way for a thriving financial eco-system at Gokarna. Despite the fact that Gokarna is a tourist town, the cafes and shacks do not accept credit or debit cards. Further, the entire town had just one ATM cashpoint, which the locals said worked only occasionally. Nonetheless, taking advantage of the situation, a few enterprising businessmen allow you to swipe your card at their credit card terminals for a nominal fee.

Sitting at Namaste Café a popular jaunt on Om Beach, we met a few Americans whose keen interest in Indian mythology and Hinduism had brought them to India. According to mythology, it’s here that Ravana was forced to leave behind the atmalinga he received from Shiva after a long penance, falling prey to Ganesha’s trickery, and this tale brought them to the temple town.

They were in the last leg of their trip and were eager to see Gokarna’s temples. However, a majority of the temples in Gokarna forbid foreigners. And they were clearly disappointed. The next morning as we went to pay a cursory visit to the temples, we saw boards outside many shrines that said: “Foreigners not allowed”. It was now evident that the influx of tourists in general and foreign tourists in particular had disrupted the social milieu and created a conflict. For those a booming tourism industry brought economic gain, adapting to the changes was vital and so they did. The rest, essentially the upper-caste locals, seemed to detest it all.