The waiters in the outdoor restaurant at the Colmar were another story altogether. Young men (and, to a lesser degree, young women) from all over India come to Goa to earn a far better income from the tourist trade than they could ever hope to earn in their own, poorer, states. Some, like the Kashmiris, come to sell their unique wares in little tourist shops, whilst escaping the ongoing strife in their homeland. As a result, you meet people from many parts of India who are working in Goa in order to send money home to support families, or they are saving up their earnings to seek their fortunes in Europe (usually London), or saving up for higher education that they could not have otherwise afforded. Almost without exception, they are away from home for the first time, and extremely homesick for friends and family left behind. The majority of them are employed as waiters, hoping to supplement their meager incomes with tourist tips.
The boys employed as waiters at the Colmar ranged in age from about 18 to around 23, and we couldn’t help but observe that every one of them was exceptionally cute. In fact, we commented that, when they applied for the job, the number one criterion for getting hired must have been the “cuteness factor.” Not cute = no job. But it wasn’t just their exceptional good looks that made them cute, as much as it was their personalities. Even the most serious, studious-looking fellow, who was wearing glasses (still unusual in India), brightened into smiles and became extremely chatty when we asked him about his home and family. Every one of them was just as sweet as could be – they were the kind of boys that make you want to take them home and mother them and feed them cookies and milk. And, as we talked to more of them in the other restaurants and beach shacks, we realized that they all seemed to have that sweet, fresh quality to their characters.