GoaBooks2

Portuguese India, the Politics of Print and a ambiguous Modernity

2008-08-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

Between Empires: Print and Politics in Goa by Rochelle Pinto; Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 2007; pp 209, Rs 645. This book is the result of research undertaken for a PhD. Publishers however, usually impose restrictions of space and in such situations the author is often forced to make difficult choices and bear the responsibility of facing the consequences of those choices. Rochelle Pinto tells us that she seeks to explore print production in Goa, locating it within similar studies of print production in colonial India. Contrary to her own expectations, the evidence she gathered seemed to point to dissimilar processes in Goa and in colonial India. What could explain the difference? Her answer is: The different nature and guiding principles of the two colonial systems and the relations between the colonial states and their colonial elites. The two colonialisms are seen as historically and conceptually different. Print production in Goa had been generally identified with the Catholic elite, and that is where it stops in most histories of Goa. Pinto admits that her study too remains very far from an exhaustive representation of the responses to colonialism in 19th century Goa. Read the rest at: http://www.divshare.com/download/5232641-c71 Teotónio R. de Souza

The Third Culture: Some aspects of the Indo-Portuguese Cultural Encounter

2008-07-05T15:06:00.000-07:00

Alberto de Noronha, *The Third Culure – Some Aspects of the Indo-Portuguese Cultural Encounter*, Panjim, The Third Millenium, 2006, pp. 189, Price: Rs. 250, $15, € 12.

It is with a mix of sadness and satisfaction that I am writing these few lines about this author whom I did not get to know personally during my Goa phase of life. To enhance my sadness, I received the book by mail with a covering letter dated 16th October 2006 and signed by the author three weeks before he died. The tone of the letter written in Portuguese mentions the diagnosis of terminal cancer, which added to his advanced age of 80s, made the production of this book his last great challenge in life. Cites Sydney Smith who seems to have provided much needed inspiration: "It is the greatest of all mistakes to do nothing because you can do only litte. Do what you can".Alberto Noronha ends his note with a humble request to me to provide some of my precious time to say if his book deserves scholarly merit. He hoped that my opinion could bring some weight of publicity in the Goa-based press. I feel honoured by the gesture of the author in sending me his book, which I shall cherish as "in manus tuas commendo" votive offering. There is little I need to add to the appreciation of the book in its Preface by Maria Aurora Couto. The book reveals a meticulous planning, a very liberal and critical mind, very up-to-date readings on the subject (including a reference to me on page 128, where the author cites a long passage in a funny mix of Portuguese and Konkani, which I did not even remember I had included in a paper I had presented at a local history seminar of Goa University but which I had never seen in print), and a pleasant and measured style of presentation. Since J.N. Fonseca's *Historical and Archeological Sketch of the City of Goa* or Claude Saldanha's *Short History of Goa*, we had not seen anything so comprehensive, unpolemical and readable on Goa and written for general public as this little book of Albert Noronha. The author and this book will remain with us and the generations to come as cultural representations of Goa that is presented in *The Third Culture*.

Songs of the Survivors - A Book Review

2008-02-13T11:52:00.000-08:00

Songs of the Survivors, ed. Yvonne Vaz Ezdani, Broadway Book Centre, Panjim, 2007, pp. 289 by Teotónio R. de Souza

Oral testimony is one of the most valuable but challenging sources for the study of modern history, providing access to knowledge and experience unavailable to historians of earlier periods. However, it implies methodological problems of collection and interpretation, including the risk of re-enacting the role of the proverbial blind men of India who described an elephant after touching one single part of elephant's body. The British empire is in this book an elephant to contend with, and the goodies served to the imperial subjects, including the grateful ex-Burma Goans, constitute a serious challenge to the interpretation of the oral testimonies and record of lived experiences. Yvonne Vaz Ezdani, the editor of this volume is not unaware of the pitfalls. Her introduction sets Burma pretty well (in her perspective) and briefly in its geographical, cultural and historical context, but probably logistical difficulties did not permit her to ask her contributors some questions that could have elicited their responses about intra-community relationships, or about their day-to- day dealings with the Burmese population. This was essential when we are told that " this is not just a story of Goans in Burma, or Goans alone… It is a wider story of human determination to fight the odds, and also a story of yet another insightful chapter of the little- understood reality of Goan migration worldwide… Stories in the book also reveal other aspects of the Goan diaspora in Burma: why and when they went to Burma, how they earned their living there, how they adapted to the culture and lifestyles, what they felt about the land and the local people, and much more." We can see in these personal reminiscences of ex-Burma Goans how their traditional piety did not fail them through life's ordeals during the trek and during the difficult years that followed. Salman Rushdie may not have overstated in *The Moor's Last Sigh* the devotion of the Indo-Portuguese families for kababed saints and tandooried martyrs. In 1932 many of them came faithfully all the way to the feet of St. Francis Xavier. And with so many ex-Burma Goans in the *Songs of the Survivors* (Sunny Siqueira, Anthony John D'Cruz, Alex C. Fernandes, Patricia Carmen Therese (née Duarte), Francis Siqueira, Antoinette née Selkirk, Anthony Xavier Rego, L.C. Saldanha, Cajetan Bernard Silgardo, John Menezes, José Cordeiro, Alex de Souza) who made their living and brought cheer to others with music, Salman Rushdie's *The Ground Beneath her Feet* could once again convey fitting homage to these musical children of Goa who had learnt to rock and roll despite the ground cracking beneath their feet time and again. The editor tells us also that "this book aims at capturing the memories of a generation that is advancing in age. It hopes to help Goans understand another aspect of their own histories. It also seeks to record tales of determination and survival that are relevant to people everywhere. While aimed at the general reader, one hopes the scholar or historian may also find some useful information in the narratives of oral histories put down in print." But for being "a generation that is advanced in age" and closely related as family and friends, there could be little excuse for justifying opportunism as a very human tendency to want a good life. It may be true that when you don't get the opportunities in your home country you look for it elsewhere, and feel some gratitude and loyalty to whoever provides you with prosperity and status. But this is also a unique occasion to leave a question, that may appear crude and cruel: How do such simple and good people compare with other simple and equally good people who stayed put, struggled and even died in their resistance to the imperial-colonial logic in order to gain freedom for their countrymen? We have seen some other earlier Goan efforts at reaching catharsis after similar exit-ential tragedies, such as the one lived by Goan survivors of Idi Amin's expulsion of Indians from Uganda, in Peter Nazareth's scholarly fictional tale The General Is Up (Calcutta, Writer's Workshop, 1984) or in less scholarly edition of A Collection of Goan Voices by Susan Rodrigues. Such narratives, including the present one, whatever their literary form or academic quality, they are valuable records of human pathos. Even when some of them reflect faded memories as regards some details, they reveal by that very fact the human capacity to empty the debris of their past life-constructions and to look ahead with fresh hopes kindled and sustained by younger generation, as when Donald Menezes recalls in this book : "For ten days, we stayed at Kokine Lakes, bathing and swimming in the lake, singing, dancing, dallying with the girls, playing with the kids, joking with the elders and dashing for the trenches when the sirens went out. Our cheerfulness and helpfulness buoyed up the elderly". These and other, more or less heart-renting and comforting accounts raise long-term existential doubts. My critical comments are not intended here as discordant notes in the midst of so much music that resonates in this book, but as calls for greater self-consciousness of Goans as a community that needs to construct its own future, ceasing to be a play-thing of alien interests in exchange of short- term satisfactions. From time to time, tragedies have joined the Goans as Goans, or as relatives and friends from Goa into a fellowship of sufferers? However, Goans need to look frontally and question themselves as to how many of their fellow-Goans and countrymen they exclude from their fellowship and concern, consciously or unwittingly in good times. The differentiated caste- clubs in Uganda make me raise this question. The narratives in this book seem to be restricted to Goans of one caste, and curiously limited to Saligão and some surrounding villages, with a couple of exceptions of Benaulim and Divar. Beyond the village and family links, church celebrations and love for music it is difficult to perceive the "Goanness" in this book. From my private queries I got some responses, including thankfully from the editor herself, pointing to the existence of a Goan Club in Burma that was known as Portuguese Club, or about Goans who chose to distance themselves from Indians, who were seen in Burma either as exploiting money-lenders or as coolies working for half an anna. Goans preferred to be identified with the Anglo-Indians or with the Portuguese. We are also told that the Burma trek included a "White Route" for the Europeans, Anglo-Indians and Goans, and a "Black Route" for the other Indians. These colonial-racial biases could have merited some soul-searching or at least some passing criticism in these narratives. Contrarily, Gerard Lobo expresses unqualified gratefulness of Goans to Pax Britannica that permitted many to leave their motherland for parts of British India (what is now Pakistan, India, Bangladesh and Burma) at times when there was little gainful employment under Portuguese. The editor herself presents a reading of the Burmese history and the behavior of her last kings from a British imperial perspective. We are told that the last king of Burma was "weak and arrogant", unlike his father who was a "shrewd diplomat" and maintained "correct relations" with the British by refusing to side with the Indians during the 1857 mutiny and even gave a big donation to the British victims of the Mutiny! Such a reading is a far cry, for instance, from *The Glass Palace* of Amitav Gosh, who handles Burma experiences of Indians very differently. For a historian born in India after 1947 this book represents a vintage of Goan nostalgia, blissfully unaware of the logic of the empires, be they British, Portuguese or Japanese. Though many contributors in this book refer frequently and gratefully to the Loretto Convent in Calcutta, where they were welcomed at the end of the grueling trek, while others made their way through Madras, or chose to rebuild their lives in places like Belgaum, where the cost of living was cheaper and had good schools and colleges, or in Bangalore, Bombay, Pune, Lucknow and Allahabad, where they found easy employment and supportive environment, these are all destinations that seem to be taken for granted, without questioning if it was Mother India, or Queen of England, or both that made them feel safe. Isa Vaz tells us that her family moved from Goa to Calcutta, and when the Allied forces announced victory in June 1944, she along with other children marched joyously on Chowringee Maidan to the tune of 'God Save the King'. Her family returned to Burma, but was back in India a few years later due to the Karen uprising. The bulk of these ex-Burma Goans lives happily today in India, and not in U.K. or Portugal. The publication of a book like this can provide a wonderful opportunity to the Goan writers and readers alike to go beyond reminiscences and to find some answers to the historical complicity of Goans, willingly or unwittingly, with the colonial powers and to their lack of national consciousness. Instead of stopping with the judgement of the rulers of Burma, past and present, we should be able to ask: What right did the British have to re-locate even the worst king of Burma to Ratnagiri? Or to deport Indian nationalist leaders, including the renowned Bal Gangadhar Tilak, to Mandalay? Does not the British exile of the King Thebaw remind anyone here of the present day Burmese Junta trying to erase the memory of Aung San Suu Kyi by placing her under house arrest? At least they have not yet exiled her from her country! If S.N. Bose and his INA were challenging the British in alliance with the Japanese in Burma, why is there so little appreciation for his efforts, even after Martin could improvise some music for celebrating Bose's triumphant entry in Manipur, following the fall of Imphal? It is curious that Goans play tunes for all masters; a recorded tradition that goes back to Albuquerque's military band following the Portuguese capture of Goa. The "Songs of the Survivors" has brought to life and to light one more little known chapter of Goa's history. Yvonne Vaz Eznadi deserves credit for the trouble such a venture involves. If "comfortable and serene lives were shattered and they (contributors to this volume) were plunged into chaos and fear...as refugees who fled to India", it is our common wish that true and lasting "comfort and serenity in life" may be forever theirs and ours, and may the ground never again slip from under our feet as a result of forgetfulness or insufficient consciousness of our collective responsibilities and destiny as Goans. --- the end ---

Goa books, best-sellers

2008-01-21T12:26:00.000-08:00

List as per Golden Heart Emporium, Abade Faria Road, Margao-Goa. Ph.: 2732450/ 2725208 Email: goldenbookstore@hotmail.com

* GOA: The Land and the People. Olivinho JF Gomes, National Book Trust Rs. 110 * 100 Goan Experiences Pantaleao Fernandes The World Publications Rs. 395 * GOA Romesh Bhandari Roli Books Pvt. Ltd. Rs. 225 * A Guide to the Flora and Fauna of Goa P. Killips Orient Longman Rs. 195 * Goa: A select Compilation on Goa's Genesis Luis De Assis Correia Maureen Publishers Pvt. Ltd. Rs. 395 * Goa's Struggle for Freedom Dr. P. P. Shirodkar Sulabha P. Shirodkar Rs. 395 * Farar Far- Local Resistance to Colonial Hegemony in Goa 1510-1912 Dr Pratima Kamat Institute Menezes Braganza Rs 200 * Goa Indica: A Critical Portrait of Postcolonial Goa Arun Sinha Bibliophile South Asia in associate with Promilla & Co., Publishers Rs. 495 * Goa With Love Mario Miranda M & M Associates Rs. 350 * House of Goa Gerard Da Cunha Architecture Autonomous Rs 1900

Career books

2008-01-21T12:24:00.000-08:00

In these days of competitiveness, when the world throws open a range of opportunities, are students in Goa geared up to seize them? At times when parents are willing to pay upto Rs 35,000 as annual fees for primary school, we could do with a better range of career opportunities at the adolescent level. Two Goa books on careers made it to the bookshops recently. One was ex-Gomantak Times journalist Ilidio de Noronha's "Careers: The Complete Guide" (Pp 178, Rs 150, Plus Publications, 2464687) and the other is "Choose Your Very Own Career: A Guide for Students, Parents and Teachers" (Pp 617, Rs 65, Basil D'Cunha). The latter is an English-Konkani book. Both carry advertisements, making their prices more affordable to the young, who would obviously be their main target audience. Question is: will such books, which contain a whole lot of useful information, reach to the educators, students, parents, and school libraries -- that can make better use of them? While everyone gets worked out about "non-Goans" entering the State, and the buy-out of Goa's land resources, we don't seem as concerned about ensuring that our kids are competitive enough to take on the bigger world. Books like these are a welcome addition to those published in Goa. Feedback welcome: fred@bytesforall.org, 832-2409490 or +91-9970157402

Publishing travails

2008-01-21T12:23:00.000-08:00

I ran into Odette Mascarenhas odette.mascarenhas@gmail.com via cyberspace, thanks to a brief mention of one of her books in last week's column. Writes Odette: "I would definitely help in any way I can to encourage Goan writers to reach their goal. I know how difficult it can be." She is herself the author of two books. Besides the one mentioned last week, there's "Masci: The Man Behind The Legend" on the famed chef Miguel Arcanjo Mascarenhas. Rashmi Uday Singh wrote about the latter in businesstravellerindia.com: "It's fascinating how a Goan kitchen boy whose job was plucking 200 chickens a day rose to become world's celebrated chef who catered to the kings and queens and viceroys of the world. Not only does his story come alive, you can actually recreate his food and have a taste of this legend too." But Odette Mascarenhas, from her experience with two books, has another less glamorous story to narrate. The first major hurdle in her work was finding the right publisher. Says she: "We have been running helter skelter to all the big names for over three years. Tata Press, Wilco, Rupa, Penguin, Jaico. While they all liked the idea, the question was: is it a viable investment. Very few Goans are known in this field." After publishing the book on their own, getting the book stocked and distributed -- even in Goa itself -- proved another challenge. Says she: "Moreover... though space is expensive, it would be nice, if they (book outlets in Goa) could keep a small 'Goan corner' for writers to promote their skills (in local bookstores). After all if a fellow Goan will not help another, who will? Its happening for art, with exhibitions to promote local artists, but writing has taken a back seat." She adds: "The idea of having a read-out session (to promote Goa-based books) seems brilliant. They do it abroad. Maybe some shop could buy the idea?"

Online text

2008-01-21T12:22:00.000-08:00

What the print world finds it difficult to do, the online world manages. A statement put out in cyberspace says that the entire Konkani Bible is now available online in Kannada script. See http://www.konkanibible.org/

Learn Konkani

2008-01-21T12:19:00.001-08:00

How do you sell a book in a scattered market like Goa, complicated by the fact that, despite our literacy, we are not quite a heavy-reading population? Jesuit linguist-priest Dr Pratap Naik pnaiksj@yahoo.co.in; recently announced that the TSKK Konknni Course Book in the Roman script will be released in the last week of September 2007. At a special pre-publication price of Rs 175, this book is available -- via post -- from the Thomas Stephens Konknni Kendr, B.B.Borkar Road, Alto Porvorim, Goa - 403 521.

Memoirs ... of a voice from the airwaves

2008-01-21T12:19:00.000-08:00

This is about the most bizarre thing to do while encountering a book: try to read it from the ending! That's just what I did with the autobiography of someone you might know, a lady called Imelda Dias. So one is still trying to put the pieces of the jigsaw together; but it was an interesting read. Most of Goa of a particular generation -- those around here in the 1960s and 1970s -- would probably remember the name "Imelda" (or even Imelda Tavora). She then was the most popular announcer in the State, at a time when radio was the unquestioned king of all the mass media. (Forget about TV, which didn't exist here yet, and newspapers were far smaller.) So I began reading her book with the Epilogue. This chapter took me to my schoolboy days in the 1970s, and the music that Imelda played for all of us via the radio. It came through loud and clear on Sunday afternoons. It came on Friday nights. It came in the afternoon siesta time on weekdays. All the names of the programmes sounded so very fresh -- 'Your Choice', 'Latin Rhythm', 'Your Favourites' and more. Many readers would probably even recall the sign-off name "Yours truly, Imelda". This book is about the Goa that was, touching a bit on colonial Goa and the period just after 1961. Those were times of change and uncertainty. But they were nice times too, in a way. Imelda's book tells the story of the Catholic elite of the times, the nostalgia with which it looks back, and life in the "good old days". Subtitled "An Autobiography of a Woman Ahead of Her Times", this is also a story of a woman going against the trend, settling for a divorce in the 1960s, and facing the patriarchy of Catholic Goa of the times. It's a book edited by Margaret Mascarenhas, editor of 'Skin'. Spiced with the gossipy details of Panjim's life in the 1970s, parts of the book are very engrossing. But one couldn't believe all one read, even if this only incited one's curiosity to learn more of those times. Besides her boarding years in Pune (then still Poona), this story talks about life in All India Radio, what it meant to be a political refugee of sorts in Salazar's Lisbon post-1961, and stories of love and romance from another era. It's a good read for anyone who grew up in the Goa of those years, and one would not hesitate recommending it (2006, Rs 250, printed and published by Imelda Dias, pp 189, hb). With an catchy title like 'How Long Is Forever' and a covered mostly in black-and-white cover, this is a book that would catch your attention. Strangely, it isn't very well displayed in most bookshops. Friends I mentioned it to, had all not come across it either!

Remembering the Fall of Portuguese India in 1961

2007-01-19T08:40:00.000-08:00

Francisco Cabral Couto, O Fim do Estado Português da Índia, Lisboa, Tribuna, s.d, ISBN.10:972-8799-53-5, pp. 136. Priced at € 21.60 by FNAC in Lisbon, this hard cover coffee-table publication is perhaps the latest addition to the surprisingly rich and often controversial historiography about the end of the Portuguese colonial rule in India. The author, now a retired general, was a young 26-old fresher from Military Academy when he arrived in Goa on 27 March 1961 and was posted at the Afonso de Albuquerque military camp in the village of Navelim, with command over 47 «caçadores» (hunters) with responsibility for the defence of Borim bridge, Paroda canal, river Sal and Anjidiv island. Within months the reinforcements made a total of 158, including many youngsters with little military training. They were mostly involved in reconnaissance missions to ward off terrorist attacks. Describes the lack of basic conditions for any sort of defence in any terms of strategic or military means at disposal. The camp headquarters at Navelim had a generator that did not work, and depended upon the use of kerosene lamps and stoves. With the exception of the delicious mangoes and abundant supply of bananas, classifies the food resources in Goa as of poor quality. There were canned supplies of quality food and drinks from UK and Holland, but few could afford them. The author admits that he did not stay in Goa long enough to take the pulse of the civil society, but remained with the impression that most Goans favoured autonomy or integration with India. Felt that the Portuguese presence was tolerated and even respected, but not much loved: «Quanto aos portugueses, é importante dizê-lo, pareceu-me que eram, dum mode geral, respeitados, bem tolerados, mas não amados, a não ser por aqueles que com eles tinham fortes laços familiares» (pp. 20-21). While the acts of terrorism in Goa were multiplying, the Portuguese authorities were curiously encouraging the families of the men posted in Goa to join them, giving a false impression that all was well in Portuguese India. The author had his first son born on the eve of his departure to India. His wife and 5-month old son arrived by the first flight of TAIP in July. While reporting about the relics of the Portuguese naval force in Goa, the author refers to a curious incident in September 1963 when Salazar ordered the ground batteries at the fort of Almada in Portugal to fire upon the cruiser Afonso de Albuquerque for having joined the republican forces in the Spanish civil war! Hence, ironically, the Indians were the not the first ones to do fire upon this war vessels. The author does not fail to report that the Commander of the warship was gravely hurt in the Vijay Operation, but his life was saved by the Indian military medics who treated him on shore in the Naval Club at Caranzalem. The author reveals that in an emergency defence planning meet in September 1961 he had opposed the «Plano Sentinela» that was approved by the home government for resistance to Indian attack, suggesting that the defence should concentrate in the capital island, and not in Mormugão. Confesses that he was asked to drop his objections and withdraw his suggestions. Reveals another «Plano de Barragens» that has found no mention in earlier publications known to me. It complemented the «Plano Sentinela». It was meant to demolish the vital bridge links to delay the advance of the enemy forces. The same plan envisaged also mining of the main roadways and beach approaches. But lack of mines did not make it viable. We have a fairly detailed description of the events at Anjidiv on 23-24 November, when the Portuguese forces stationed there fired upon the passenger vessel Sabarmati passing between the island and Kochi harbour, causing some deaths. The Portuguese forces were convinced that Indians were planning to disembark in the island. The Indian press was agog with news on 25 November and provoked a rapid escalation of diplomatic and military tension. The Portuguese official sent from Goa to investigate the case reported that the soldier manning the gun had fired upon the ship alleging that it was within the Portuguese territorial waters on 17 November and had kept his action unreported. On December 9 the vessel India arrived from Timor on its way to Lisbon. With capacity for 380 passengers, it left on 12 December carrying 700, despite a telegram received from Lisbon ordering the Governor General to not permit any families to embark in the ship. The Governor General ignored the order. Allowed all who wanted to leave to embark and the passengers were fitted even into the bath rooms during night time. It arrived in Lisbon on the last day of the year. The most valuable and original contribution of this book are the very personal experiences of the author after his detention by the invading forces. Such details as we read in pp. 103-116 constitute the value that this kind of personal memoirs can bring to historiography, despite and precisely because of their questionable nature of subjective version. Every personal version counts and is important for the re-construction of an «objective» history. Francisco Cabral Couto describes the humiliation he felt when the Indian troops forced them to break up their weapons and arrange them in mounds. He got a gun-handle knock on his knuckles when tried to play dumb. Greater humiliation awaited him when his group was taken to the Navelim camp where he had been in command. Now he and his colleagues had to sleep on cement floor, dig trenches to serve as open-air latrines, and had to go make do with a jar of water that was supplied by tanks of Margão Muncipality. Confesses that this shortage was caused by the Portuguese themselves by destroying the bridges and other supply routes. Remembers how the Christmas was celebrated with some dry biscuits that meant much in the context. Most interesting is the fact that among the guards, soldiers of Indian army he recognized three who had served in Goa as train TC, another as Longuinhos bar servant and a third who would be seating as a beggar under a banyan tree. After all, they seem to have been serving the Indian spy system, and nobody had sensed it. The Navelim internees where shifted to the Ponda camp in mid January 1962, where the Alfa Detenues Camp was much better organized. Describes how a few soldiers tried to escape, provoking a serious incident when the some of the Portuguese officials were called upon to admit lack of responsibility and were threatened with death by shooting. The timely intervention of a Jesuit military chaplain ended it all without any tragic consequences. The author admits that he and his Portuguese colleagues admired the discipline of the Indian army, which was equally just in punishing its own members who failed to comply with rules. Describes how he left Goa by air to Karachi on May 8 and embarked on 9th for Lisbon aboard Vera Cruz. On arrival in Lisbon 11 days later, they were taken away early in the dark of night under police escort and without access to the families that awaited them. In the following months all were subject to unending questionings, until on 22 March 1963 a list was published of those who were subject to punishment of some kind, and many were dismissed from service without right for self-justification. The book ends by admission that Salazar failed to calculate well the international support, but that also the Indian invasion proved the Portuguese capacity to resist subversion. This conclusion appears to be a non sequitur after the author admits that Nehru has shown great patience for nearly two decades, and implying that no one can be tested indefinitely, as did the Portuguese diplomatic intransigence. Perhaps the photo chosen to be included in the book reveals author’s bias and provides an answer? Is the photo meant to illustrate Nehru’s intimacy with the Mountbatten couple, or does it insinuate anything else? Teotonio R. de Souza http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Forum/1503/teo_publ.html

Goan women... and the written word

2007-01-17T00:07:00.000-08:00

Aloke Fernandes <alokefer at gmail.com> sent me these inputs:

Am a regular reader of your blogs and posts on various goa-linked forums.In response to an old query posted by you on Goacom [I guess he means Goanet.org --FN] -- on notification of new goan authors, below are two recent releases, both by Goans, and both based in part on fictional villages in Goa

Nandita da Cunha.Novel: The Magic of Maya. Info at http://nanditadacunha.blogspot.com

Sonia Faleiro,Novel: The Girl,Info at http://soniafaleiro.blogspot.com

There are also short stories (again based on Goa) by Nisha da Cunha, and a non fictional account by Maria Aurora Couto but I do not have a link to that. I have read and enjoyed all these books, especially the short stories by Nisha (the only non-Goan in the list above!) ... most of which however have a darker side to them. You could update your database/ reviews section with any of these if you like. Do let me know if this is of any use.

Thanks so much Aloke. Your post (though I knew these names, fiction doesn't interest me as much as non-fiction....) suddenly drew my attention to the fact that in our, patriarchal, Goan society, women writers are fairly well well represented. As it happens, I kept up till late last night, reading some chapters of Imelda Dias' How Long Is Forever? An Autobiography of a Woman Ahead of her Times.

technorati tags:goa, womenwriters, feedback

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Looking at Goa's heritage... in its various shapes

2007-01-14T08:32:00.000-08:00

One of my favourite Goa-related journals was released the other day. Parmal. It's latest issue has on its cover this photo showing traditionally-attired Goan Hindu young women at a festive celebration. Parmal is published by the Goa Heritage Action Group, and calls itself "an annual publication brought to you by the GHAG, an NGO (non-governmental organisation) based in Goa dedicated to the preservation, protection and conservation of Goa's natural, cultural and man-made heritage".

Prava Rai is Parmal's editor. She does a great job of it. It fits in with my view that some of the so-called "non-Goans" (and returned expats) are among those who are contributing the most significantly to Goan society today. The simplistic barrage against them notwithstanding.

Prava says in the editorial: "The danger of equating heritage with identity fosters untenable claims to the bones, belongings, riddles and the refuse of every forbear into the mists of time: ipossible claims in the face of historical reality."

My view of the GHAG is that it tends to be a bit elitist in nature. Sometimes. This places it somewhat closer-to-comfort to the Establishment than it perhaps should be, and blocks it from taking more strong, campaign-oriented stands. But, on the positive side, it helps them get an official hearing. Sometimes. Their approach also means they do a great job to generate content that has much relevance to the debate about Goa.

This issue contains articles, among others, focussed on the mother goddess cult (by Portuguese studies specialist Ana Paula Lopes da Silva Damas Fita), the feminine space in Goan houses (architecture writer Heta Pandit), sacred groves (field ecologist Nirmal Kulkarni), the Fontainhas Festival of the Arts (artist and journalist Deviprasad C Rao), Goan residential architecture (Sanskrit scholar and prof of theology Jose Pereira), the parish churches of Goa (civil engineer-turned-author and Goalogist Jose Lourenco), the legacy of the house of Menezes Braganca (sociologist Nishtha Desai), forgetting Pio Gama Pinto (by SOAS-London educated researcher Rochelle Pinto), and Mumbai-based freelance writer Veena Gomes-Patwardhan's The Stars of Yesterday (from the Konkani stage).

If you'll allow me to brag a little (which is what one is usually doing!), we managed to point to the interesting ideas of some writers by having them e-published on Goanet Reader... and Parmal/Prava did a good job of following up. Of course, we should be doing far, far more on this front....

technorati tags:goa, heritage, parmal, ghag, goaheritageactiongroup, books, reviews

Blogged with Flock

2006-07-08T05:41:00.000-07:00

Just found a number of references to books on Goa at the "Indian Amazon.com" aka FirstandSecond.com. Check it out!

PS: Would you believe there are seven books with the title of just Goa or Goa! ? They are by travel-guide author David Abram, journalist and author Mario Cabral e Sa, Harper Collins, (Sir) JM Richards, former Governor Romesh Bhandari, Rupa & Company, and (I think, the did-you-know-it trivia master) V Chandra Mowli.

2006-07-08T05:13:00.000-07:00

Lots of links to Goa in the WorldEBookFair. Check this loooooong URL.

Apparently, this site is offering "free access to the public from July 4th to August 4th (2006), in celebration of Project Gutenberg's 25th Birthday". And, we're told that the World eBook Fair is pponsored by the World eBook Library Consortia and Project Gutenberg.

Even found an ebook in which one of my contributions appeared (and wasn't aware of it). It's called Silenced-v34.indd, and deals with censorship issues in cyberspace.

BOOK REVIEW: Secrets behind church facades (by Melvyn Misquita)

2006-01-22T14:15:00.000-08:00

Secrets behind church facades

BY MELVYN MISQUITA [Herald] melvyn at misquita.net

What do mermaids, a two-headed eagle, lions, the mythical Cyclops and a boat have in common? Believe it or not, they all grace the façades of parishes churches in Goa.

To be honest, a casual spectator may find façades of the 158-odd parish churches in Goa nothing more than repetitive white-washed multi-storeyed structures that deserved nothing more than a cursory glance.

That is, until they lay their hands on the recently published book "The Parish Churches of Goa", a study of façade architecture by Jose Lourenco along with photographs by Pantaleao Fernandes.

The 201-page book is packed with exhaustive, yet fascinating, information and pictures on façades of parish churches, right from Agassaim to Veroda and even includes a map of Goa identifying the parish churches for the curious traveller. The book, however, does not include facades of non-parish churches (churches at Old Goa).

The authors begin by briefly describing the various architectural influences of the west and east on church façades in Goa.

The early façades, according to the authors, were the 'peaked gable' façades, relatively unsophisticated late Portuguese Renaissance style, as can be seen in the parish churches such as St Peter (Sao Pedro) and St Lawrence (Agasaim).

The 'Cupoliform' façades, considered a Goan innovation, can be seen in churches such as Our Lady of Immaculate Conception (Moira) and St Cajetan (Assagao).

Other façades include the 'Pozzoan pediment' (such as Holy Spirit, Margao), 'Rococo' (such as St Jerome's Church, Mapusa), 'Templet' (such as Savour of the World church, Loutolim) and 'Neo-Gothic' (such as Our Lady church, Saligao).

A concise description of each parish in Goa is encompassed in a single page, which includes other interesting details such as a brief history of the parish, the feast of its patron (now you don’t have any excuse for missing out on parish feasts of your relatives), the elevation/ inception of the parish, the latest picture of the parish and architectural notes on the facade of the church.

While praising the rich architectural heritage of façades in the parishes churches of Goa, the authors seem pained over the recent unintentional 'distortions' to these façades, which, in their words, "have marred the elegant beauty of these edifices."

Some of these 'distortions' detailed in their book include the installation of metalor plastic sheets to protect doors, windows and belfry openings, concrete porches, back-lit signboards and 'blinded openings', the closure of the oculi (the opening that streams light into the church interiors).

The authors also express anguish over the recent trends to paint church facade in multicolours, a far cry from the "resplendent brilliance" of the white paint of yore, besides pointing to recent trends of introducing fluorescent or sodium vapour lamps on or around façades, aluminium windows and haphazard facade renovations.

A glossary and sketches containing the different elements of the church facade are also a useful addition in the book.

The book is certainly an eye-opener to those who will now admit that facades of churches are much more than repetitive white-washed multi-storeyed structures that deserved nothing more than a cursory glance.

While the book is strongly recommended for the fascinating stories that emerge out of church facades, there is, however, one drawkback -- its price.

Priced at Rs 495, the book is by no means cheap and could well elude the masses, who may miss out on the hidden secrets of church facades. (ENDS)

Sonia's book, The Girl

2006-01-02T23:26:00.000-08:00

Sonia Faleiro <faleiro_s at yahoo.com> has just released a novel, The Girl, this month. More information is on her website www.soniafaleiro.com Looking forward to seeing the same...

Amita Kanekar's A Spoke In The Wheel (HarperCollins, 2005)

2006-01-01T03:16:00.000-08:00

Below are three reviews of a book by Amita Kanekar, a Mumbai-based writer whose roots are in Goa. -FN

The Hindu, May 1, 2005

The Buddha emerges a more rounded figure in this reinterpretation, says R. KRITHIKA

----- A Spoke In The Wheel: A Novel About The Buddha, Amita Kanekar, HarperCollins, Rs. 395. -----

THE traditional legend of Buddha's renunciation and search for enlightenment is, in many ways, unsatisfactory. Could one be as divorced from the reality of his/ her times as the legend implied? Also the characters seem unreal cardboard cutouts rather than real live people, who felt, loved, lived and hated especially when compared with extant literary sources on social life of this period in Indian history.

Good use of history

Against this background, Amita Kanekar's A Spoke in the Wheel is interesting reading. Described as historical fiction, the book draws from Indian history to such good effect that one can't help wondering if things actually did happen this way. The period of the Buddha was one of great philosophical ferment. There were six main schools of thought, the Vedic ritualistic tradition was under attack and people were beginning to look at alternate schools of thought. Both politically and socially too, it was a time of changes. Republicanism had come to the fore.

The book moves at two levels. A monk, Upali, (who lives in Asoka's times) is writing the story of Buddha's life. Upali has lived through the Kalinga War and is not quite sure about the reasons for Asoka's conversion is it a true inner change or is it politically motivated? Upali's story has raised hackles in the establishment since he avoids the traditional rendering. His Buddha is an outsider in his own society, racked by doubts and finding something lacking in the political and socio-religious structure of his times. But, initially at least, Upali has the support of the emperor.

A modern reader might find Upali's Buddha a more rounded figure than the over-protected prince of mythology. The reader is drawn to the character as his doubts and worries do have a contemporary resonance. But one can also understand the horrified reactions of the community of monks. After building up the greatness of Buddha, to have him portrayed as a nave, self-doubting individual out of sync with the socio-political environment can be damaging.

Dismantling legends

Another interesting aspect of the book is the dismantling of each legend associated with the Buddha. Beginning with his birth right down to his renunciation, Kanekar systematically demolishes the otherworldly gloss. The touch I liked best was the handling of the charioteer Channa when he brings the news of Buddha's renunciation home. Our lovely legends are silent in this. But Kanekar has Channa thrashed and thrown in jail till it is proved that Siddhartha was alive. More like those times and these too.

Life in the Magadhan empire is also portrayed with an eye to historical accuracy. Quotes from Asokan edicts which we knew of as history but couldn't really relate to now come alive with a new imagery. The schism within Buddhism which Asoka tries to bridge with the Buddhist Council is portrayed through the conversation of the monks. Political intrigue, a given constant in all times, reaches through insidiously into the Sangha - one of the elders is a spy for the emperor, another monk is murdered for his political affiliations.

Same old stories

The other interesting issue is the expansion of so-called "civilisation" and the effect it has on tribals and other forest-dwelling people. The young Siddhartha is troubled by the treatment and enslavement of defeated tribals. By the time of Asoka, the expansion of the Magadhan kingdom sees the forest dwellers fighting a losing battle to retain their way of life. One quote brings the reader slap up against the tribal agitations in today's world and the conflict between civilisation-development and the traditional cultures "Everything in the forest is not the same ... . Magadh has this way of demeaning the forests - using them, plundering them, destroying them and ignoring the richness, the layers, the differences, the thousands of thousands of differences." Not much seems to have changed in the years that have passed since then.

Kanekar's language is forceful and direct. Vividly drawn word pictures bring old textbooks to life. Upali is a figure who draws and holds the reader's interest. His stubborn refusal to accept the legends as sacred, his championing of the communities, his doubts over the king's reasons for conversion and promotion of Buddhism ... This is a book that will be of interest to anyone interested in philosophy in general and Buddhism in particular.

-----

Revealing the real Buddha by S A Karthik, The Deccan Herald, May 29, 2005

New Delhi, India -- The book is an attempt to strip away fanciful stories surrounding the Buddha and reveal him as an ordinary man who had an extraordinary approach to his problems.

In his Buddhacharita, Asvaghosha describes in majestic verse the unnatural splendour of the Buddhas birth: as Indra, the chief of the gods holds the newborn in his hands, two streams of the purest water from the heavens fall on the baby together with mandaara flowers. The baby then utters words of majesty and meaning: I am born for the benefit of this world. This is my last birth on this earth.

Amita Kanekar's debut novel, A Spoke in the Wheel is an attempt to strip away layer by layer such fanciful stories surrounding the Buddha and reveal him as an ordinary man who had an extraordinary approach to his problems.

At her hands the Buddhas story emerges plainer but more than makes up for that by offering a wealth of alternate, rational explanations that challenge blind belief in legends that were formulated largely to serve the selfish interests of particular clans, kings, and communities.

The novel has an interesting structure. It begins with the story of Upali, a monk in the Maheshwar monastery on the Narmada. He begins rewriting the life of the Buddha as he sees contradictions in the Suttas. The reader changes lanes every alternate chapter, from the story of Upali set in 256 BCE during the emperor Ashokas reign to the story of the Buddha three hundred years earlier as retold by Upali.

In his reconstruction Upali adopts what is a blasphemous approach in the eyes of the leaders of the Buddhist sanghas. He portrays the Buddha as an ordinary prince, apathetic to the kshatriyas vocation of war, abhorrent of their animal and human sacrifices, and sympathetic towards the plight of the slaves and other repressed peoples.

Upalis account is thus shorn of the legendary elements in Buddhas life - his divine birth, the reasons for him leaving home and hearth and his war with Maara the Tempter on the path to enlightenment.

Throughout the book Amita presents issues of ethics and socio-economic relationships that are relevant even today. The ruler-priest nexus that exploits the commoner, the ethical ambivalence of the merchant classes, the morality of war, the issues of displacement and rehabilitation (as in the case of the people of Kalinga after the war with Maghadha) and so on.

The book attempts to show that the Buddha went away in search of solutions to these earthly, mundane problems, not esoteric questions of existence. His Middle Way was his solution to the excesses of all types indulged by all classes. Did those who professed to follow the Way, including Asoka, actually do so or did they merely use it for their own ends?

The book has some stimulating answers to this question.

The narrative is rich in detail and every aspect of life in those ancient times stands out vividly before the reader. There is a glossary of terms at the end. Perhaps the only lacuna is the absence of notes that indicate the sources for Amitas inferences. At the end of the book we do not have the comfort of knowing what is supported by research and what is imaginatively concocted. But this is not to deny the books deserved place on our bookshelf.

A Spoke In The Wheel - A Novel About The Buddha; Amita Kanekar New Delhi: Harper Collins, 2005; pp 447, Rs 395

-----

Spetrum, The Tribune Sunday June 19,2005 Buddha demystified Arun Gaur

A Spoke in the Wheel by Amita Kanekar. Harper Collins, New Delhi. Pages 448. Rs 395

"Influenced by all!" said Mahanta. "Upalis Buddha is a confused fool parroting whatever was said around him!" "Thats not true," protested Upali. "Perhaps it is not deliberate," conceded Mahanta. "Perhaps it is only your stupidity." He turned to the others. "But just imagine, brothers, if everybody started this kind of imaginative interpretation, what will happen to the legacy so carefully protected this far? It will be torn apart, destroyed! Well be left with only interpretations, each one more adventurous than the last!"

Upali is a monk, a Chandala, a remnant of the Kalinga war, seething with hatred towards Ashoka. Ironically, he is supported by the king himself in his private enterprise of writing Buddhas biography. Only three centuries separate the Buddha and his biographer, but these are enough to mythologise him heavily.

Now the primary task, the self-appointed mission, of Upali is to demythologise the sage, deconstruct the associated fantasies of the Suttas and the Jatakas, and to place him firmly in the historical matrix. His fears are strong: "To make him a god is to make him ordinary. He will be one of thousandsthis is a land of gods. He will be swallowed up by myth and ritual. He might even become a sacrifice demander and a slavery-patron tomorrow, one who needs blood and flowers and incense and servants!" The biographer is irritated at the inimical stance of the fellow monks: "My understanding is simple... The Buddha was a very wise man, but a man." Harsha knows better: "Upali! The Buddha is already a godone story cant stop it."

How can Upali be free to create his own Buddha? Even Ashoka opines that time is not ready to receive his Buddha and directs him to deposit his manuscript with him. The post-modernist debate about the right to authorship is in question here.

Upali does not seem to nurse any ambition to become a renowned author and his enterprise seems to be a purely private affair, an exercise in self-contentment. Even then, society at largehis friend Harsha, Mogalliputta, who is the powerful thera of Pataliputra, and the courtiers of Ashokaholds the opinion that Upali is trying to appropriate a privileged position of an author. And that would not be granted to him. The interference of the state machinery cannot be countered by the individual flashes of genius. When the writing begins, a writer has to die. This option is not acceptable to Upali; for him, writing as well as the author has to die. Consequently, he throws his unfinished script into the fire and slumps into silence.

The abstract story of the recreation of the Buddha is embedded in a multi-layered phenomenon. The philosophic gaze of Upali takes into cognizance the spiritual, commercial, political, and artistic ingredients of the society surrounding him and somehow manages to persevere through this maze. Unwittingly, Upali also becomes a part of the intrigues of love and political assassinations.

Clearly, Kanekar has done a lot of research that this kind of novel writing demands. She examines diverse historic issues: Dhamma, jungle versus city, slavery-system, stature of a devadasi, national identities, crime and punishment. There are evocative descriptions of burgeoning cities like Kapilavastu, and Benares Ujjayinis "raucous noise" is sharply demarcated from Pataliputras "laughter from glamorous carriages."

As the novelist is a teacher of the history of architecture and comparative mythology, she comfortably deals with the details of a Yakshini on the stupa: "Her pose seemed modeled on a liana vine, her ridiculously generous curves on fruit-laden trees, but her expression? The amused challenge in her eyes" Still more important is the fact that this observation is not a dry piece of analytical realism; as it is conveyed through a monks eyes, it suggests an amorous hidden dimension of a spiritual being.

Here is an abstruse difficult-to-handle story that could easily have gone drab, but it goes to the credit of the writer that in spite of her being a debut-novelist, she has been able to keep it lively. It seems to be an important contribution to Indian historic fiction.

Dr Jose Pereira ... on the mando

2005-12-27T10:28:00.000-08:00

Here's an April 2003 review of Fordham University professor emeritus of theology Dr Pereira's book, co-authored with the late maestro Micael Martins of Orlim and priest - psychotherapist - musician Antonio da Costa now based in Arizona. Details below. Published in 2003 by Aryan Books <aryanbooks@vsnl.com>, this volume deals with Mandos of union and lamentation. http://www.goanet.org/pipermail/goanet/2003-April/001564.html Some publication data: %T Song of Goa %S Mandos of Union and Lamentation %A Pereira, Jose <eximirom at hotmail.com> %A Martins, Micael %A da Costa, Antonio %I Aryan Books International %C New Delhi %D 2003 %O paperback %G ISBN 81-7305-248-4 %P 190pp, Rs 200 %U aryanbooks@vsnl.com %K Goa, music

Goacom's page

2005-12-27T10:23:00.000-08:00

Here's Goacom's page on books http://www.goacom.com/culture/books/

Blood, nemesis and misreading quite what makes Goan society tick (book review)

2005-12-23T21:28:00.000-08:00

BLOOD, NEMESIS AND MISREADING QUITE WHAT MAKES GOAN SOCIETY TICK

Being trapped in the immobility of their social structures, the Lusitanian supremacy did not matter to the downtrodden.

[A review by: Lino Leitao lino.leitao at sympatico.ca]

---------------------------- Blood & Nemesis by Ben Antao Goan Observer Private Limited Pages 318, Rs 250. Goa 2005. ----------------------------

Ben Antao's 'Blood and Nemesis' is a historical novel. In this novel, the author attempts to recapture Goa's freedom struggle from Portuguese colonial rule. In doing so, he gives us insights into Goan psyches of both the Hindus and Catholics -- the two main sectors of the Goan population.

In the very first chapter of the novel, we are introduced to Jovino Colaco, a young constable in Goa's colonial police force at Margao. Jovino's character is very vividly drawn, as if the author had known such a character personally; and many a Goan freedom fighter might have come across such a lout in those days of their struggle to free Goa from Salazar's tyranny.

Though Jovino is a bonehead with nothing much of substance, he is shrewd enough to use his position as a police constable to acquire money by graft, harassing the drivers of carreiras -- the busses of those colonial times. He has huge appetites for booze and sex; and of course, he likes card games, gambling with his friends. For him, dictatorship isn't ugly; he has a nose to sniff out freedom fighters. His boss, Gaspar Dias, a fearsome detective, likes him for that, and promotes him as his assistant. And Jovino, who spends more money than he earns, sees it as an opportunity to make a lot of cash to support his tainted lifestyle. He is happy; the promotion goes to his head.

Jovino's sexual exploits introduce us to the Devdasi cult at Mardol. (Devadasi refers to temple-based prostitution, which existed till the early part of the 20th century. In Goa, a devdasi was also called Bhavin, or the one with devotion.)

Antao draws vibrant and titillating sexual performances; and Kamala, a family devdasi, a steady sexual partner of Jovino, an expert in innovative Kamasutra poses, knows to give and take sexual pleasures for herself. But at the same time, a reader might question, as I did, how this kind of degrading humiliation of the woman came to be sanctified in the Hindu religion?

June 18, 1946 is a historic date in Goa's history. On this day, Dr. Juliao Menezes, a Goan, and Dr. Rammanohar Lohia from what was then still British India lit the torch for civil liberties at Margao, defying the ban on the freedom of speech.

Santan Barreto, Jovino's nemesis, who was only eighteen years old then, was on the scene. Seeing Juliao and Lohia hustled into a Police jeep and driven to the Police station, had an effect on Santan's soul. It awakens to freedom.

Santan dreams going to college in Bombay, and participate in politics after India's independence. But his ambition is shattered when his father, a seaman, passes away on board the ship. Having no one else to support his ambition, he pursues his dream by becoming a 'social worker' -- a euphemism for joining the ranks of the unemployed. He runs errands to get in touch with the like-minded Hindus to bring in freedom and democracy. He could have easily got a job in the colonial administration; but being the zealous Goan patriot that he was, he couldn't compromise his principles. Nor do we see the like-minded Hindus offering him a job in their businesses that they owned.

Santan, an ardent idealist, whose soul burns fervently to usher in freedom and democracy to the Goans, has no scruples, whatsoever, to freeload on his mother's meager widow's pension. The poor woman, to make the ends meet, works her fingers to the bone laboring in the fields owned by others.

Santan, when released after Liberation from the Aguada jail doesn't rush back to his mother, the mother who had sacrificed her own needs and fed him on her paltry widow's pension, when he was a 'social worker'. Instead, we see him basking in 'hero worship', for a week at Vaicunto Prabhudesai's, a like-minded Hindu and a fellow political prisoner from Aguada jail.

The author portrays Santan, a freedom fighter, as an impulsive individual with no ability to control his anger when enraged. The reader will come across two incidents in the novel. One: a glass of pale amber liquid, which is Santan's urine, which he arrogantly demands Jovino drink. Why? If you read the novel, you’ll know the answer to it.

The other incident is when Santan snatches the revolver from Jovino's holster. These are impulsive and sporadic acts, not worthy of freedom fighters. Committed freedom fighters to the cause plan their acts carefully and execute them to get the desired results.

After Liberation, Santan and Vaicunto, their self-importance puffed up as Goa's liberators, rush to settle scores with Jovino. The author, in the end, renders a debauched Jovino, on his dying bed, as a better human being than those two vengeful liberators.

Subtly, the author exposes the conceitedness of Santan. One gets the impression that the author must have known such a character like Santan personally too, the way he draws out his hidden traits of his personality.

The plot though unfolds around these two main characters -- Jovino Colaco and Satan Barreto, other fascinating characters also pop up in the narrative, giving us the overall view of Goa's life in those colonial times under the dictatorship of Salazar.

Unsubstantiated historical perceptions are thrown into the story, sometimes they come through the mouth of the characters, or sometimes injected by the author himself. For example in pages 21 and 22, we read: "He (Gaspar Dias, Jovino's boss in Police Force) was convinced that the political sympathies of Goan Hindus definitely lay with India.... The younger generation of Hindus, if you cared to ask them, would say without hesitation that they wanted freedom from colonial rule; they wanted Goa to become a part of India. As for the Catholics, by and large, they tried to be good citizens...."

Gaspar Dias can be excused for such analysis of the Goan society of that time, he being a mestico, might not have ever assimilated the intricacies of Goan nationalism.

Again, in page 110 the author probes the thoughts in Santan's mind. The author writes, "...But he (Santan Barretto) was also aware that many Goan Catholics somehow had been brainwashed into thinking they were different from other Indians, that they were superior because of their Western ways of life."

We can make allowances for Santan too, and overlook his assumptions of this nature because the author has portrayed him as an impetuous freedom fighter; impetuous persons do not use their brain muscle but their emotions.

But it's historically fallacious inferences to assume that Goan Hindus were pro-Indian because of their religion, and that Goan Catholics were pro-Portuguese. The civil rights movement that was launched in 1946 was launched due to the endeavors of Dr. Juliao Menezes, who was a Goan and baptized Catholic, though he might have been an agnostic later on in his life.

In that civil rights movement, many Goan Catholics participated. To name only some important ones: Tristao da Cunha, baptized Catholic, though atheist later on; Berta de Menezes Braganca, baptized Catholic, perhaps atheist later on; Evagrio George, baptized Catholic; Aresenio Jaques, baptized Catholic; Critovao Furtado, baptized Catholic and many, many others.

Jose Inacio Candido de Loyola in Free Press Journal, Bombay, September 26, 1946 sums ups this movement in this fashion, "An attempt is being made in certain quarters to create among the Catholic section of the Goan population, the impression that Dr. Lohia's movement is directed against the Catholic religion. There is no truth whatsoever in this propaganda. This movement has nothing to do with any religion. It is a movement for all Goans."

Goans always struggled to break the fetters that bounded them, and the author brings to our mind at page 95 the Pinto's rebellion that took place in the summer of 1787. Weren't they Catholics?

Francisco Luis Gomes, in his maiden speech in the Portuguese Parliament (18th January 1861), spoke: "... but far better models are the sacred principles, which in a free government require that hundred of persons should not be deprived of their political rights, of rights through which they share in the creation or exercise the political powers, simply because they had the misfortune to be born in the overseas colonies." (Dr. Francisco Luis Gomes, 1829-1869, by Inacio P. Newman, Coina Publications Goa, 1969.)

And again, Menezes Braganca, when Acto Colonial was incorporated in the Political Constitution of Salazar's Dictatorship in 1930, repudiated the mentality of the Act, "Portuguese India does not renounce the right of all peoples to attain the fullness of their individuality to the point of constituting units capable of guiding their own destiny, for it is a birthright of its organic essence." (Menezes Braganza, Biographical Sketch)

At page 21, the author, while probing into the mind of Gaspar Dias, writes: "...(Gaspar Dias) knew that the older Hindu businessmen mostly paid lip service to the Portuguese administration in order to make a living -- and some became wealthy in the newly booming mining industry of iron and manganese ore."

The Goan Hindu businessmen, tradesmen and landlords weren't that naive; they knew which sides the winds were blowing. Goa was their personal fiefdom without an economic base. They understood that the economic power that they were holding would slip away from their hands if Goa integrated with free India, which had an economic foundation.

So, they organized a public assembly in Margao (O Heraldo, July 30, 1946), and petitioned Salazar's administration for autonomy for Estado da India. Jose Inacio de Loyola gave the presidential address. The others who spoke were Mrs. Krishnabai, the niece of 'Bairao' Dempo, Datta Naik, Francisco Furtado and Vicente Joao Figueiredo.

Laxmikanta Bembro, making various observations, proposed a committee of the following: Adv. Vicente Joao Figueiredo, Adv. Polibio Mascarenhas, Manganlal M. Kanji, Adv. Panduronga Mulgaocar, Adv. Francisco de Paul Ribeiro, Adv. Prisonio Furtado. Adv. Antonio Xavier Gomes Pereira, Bascora Desai, Dr. Jose Paulo Telles, Adv. Álvaro Furtado, Adv. Francisco Pinto Menezes, Adv Vinayka Sinai Coissoro, Adv Datta Phaldessai, Dr. Krishna Sanguri and Laxmikanta V.P. Bembro.

But their efforts did not bear any fruits. And again in 1961, Purushottam Kakodkar perused autonomy for Estado da India, with no success. Gaspar Dias, the character in Antao's novel, who is a fearsome detective and obviously based on Agente Casmiro Monteiro, seems to know nothing about Goan native nationalism.

"The Goan people, for all practical purposes, have been pulverized by these heinous acts of brutality; in effect, Goans had been figuratively castrated over the years and rendered effete. And thus in the course of time, generations of Goans had grown up denationalized (p. 95)."

The above quote doesn't come from any of the characters that abound in the novel. This above statement is inserted in the narrative by the author to remind us about the heinous acts of brutality committed by the Portuguese conquerors on the Goan populace. No historian will ever dispute the atrocities of the Inquisition, nor the ruthlessness by which the Portuguese conquerors put down rebellions, nor Salazar’s brutality in suppressing the genuine Goan aspirations to free themselves from the colonial yoke.

But before the conquest, the most inhuman injustices were seared in into the Goan collective psyche, through their religion and the caste system. In their religion, there was the practice of sati -- burning the widows on the funeral pyre. Afonso de Albuquerque, the Portuguese conqueror of Goa, stopped this barbaric practice. The Devdasi cult, which the author depicts with all its dimensions in the novel, was a part and parcel of that culture.

Dayanand Bandodkar, the first Chief Minister of Liberated Goa, sought to put the Devdasi practice to end a few decades ago. The caste system, in its evil designs, had contucares (the village servants) system and the manducar (serfdom) system incorporated into it. These deep layers of subjugation implanted into the Goan society before the conquest 'pulverized and figuratively castrated' the collective psyche of the Goans.

Being trapped in the immobility of their social structures, the Lusitanian supremacy did not matter to the downtrodden. Their main pressing concern was to eke out a living. The rural uneducated had no luxury of thinking for themselves. Goan journalist Frederick Noronha writes in one of his essays, "a society which has no chance to think for itself is an enslaved society".

Though they were enslaved and servile and branded as denationalized because of the Lusitanian influences that made a way into their soul, they were never de-Goanized. They carried a love for Goa in their soul wherever they went to make a better living; and now in the present, we are the witnesses of Little Goas blossoming in all corners of the world.

The central theme of the novel is expressed through an Australian folk song:

Freedom isn't free You've to pay the price You've to sacrifice For your liberty

Goans were paying the price and making sacrifices to break the chains that bound them. They were imprisoned in Aguada, Peniche, Azores and Africa; and they were brutalized and their liberties were taken away. But Nehru's administration, discarding Gandhi's credo of non-violence, invaded Goa on December 18, 1961, thereby robbing Goans of their right to seize their own freedom from Portuguese colonial rule. One can only hope that the Liberation that was handed to the people on the platter helps them to empower and bring the control of the economy of the land into their own hands.

'Blood and Nemesis' is a thought-provoking novel. The various contradictions that the author introduces through his characters, or his personal comments, in the narrative are debatable issues.

------------------------------------------------------------------- ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Lino Leitao grew up in Salcete, Goa, and was a young man when Goa transitioned out of Portuguese colonial rule. He subsequently migrated to Canada, where he is currently based. Leitao is the author of 'The Gift of the Holy Cross'. His manuscript of short stories is at present being readied for publication. He can be contacted via email at lino.leitao sympatico.ca Goan Observer, which also published this book, earlier printed an abridged version of this review in its issue of August 20, 2005.

GOANET READER welcomes contributions from its readers, by way of essays, reviews, features and think-pieces. We share quality Goa-related writing among the Goanet family of mailing lists. Please do send in your feedback to the writer. Our writers share their writing pro bono. Goanet Reader welcomes your feedback at goanet@goanet.org and is edited by Frederick Noronha fred@bytesforall.org

BOOK REVIEW: Maria Aurora Couto's Goa: A Daughter's Story (Reviewer: Dr Teotonio R de Souza)

2005-12-23T21:27:00.000-08:00

Goa: An 'Aurorised' Story

------------------------------------- Goa: A Daughter's Story, by Maria Aurora Couto; Penguin Books, New Delhi, 2005; pp 436, Rs 350, (pb). -------------------------------------

Teotonio R de Souza

Salman Rushdie’s The Moor’s Last Sigh (Vintage, 1994) depicts Aurora, as the last of the Gamas and a daughter of Camões, playing the perfect granddaughter to Epifânia da Gama, whom she wishes to murder. We are told that Epifânia had developed a healthy respect for the British, but her heart belonged to Portugal, as she dreamt of walking beside the Tagus, the Douro, sashaying through the streets of Lisbon on the arm of a grandee. Aurora’s grandfather, Francisco da Gama, had fallen prey to Annie Besant’s theosophy and propounded a theory of ‘transformational fields of conscience’, but his playing with Gama rays finished him off, after provoking cruel and satirical editorial comments in The Hindu. Those who are familiar with this “Aurorised” version of Rushdie’s novel (do not miss Chapter 13 of the novel) will find in the present book, another Aurorised version, Chico’s daughter and Alban Couto’s wife, a soulful, or to use her father’s “alma”-discourse, a passionate and emotion-charged reconstruction of Goa. ‘The Sunday Magazine’ of The Hindu of April 4, 2004 had reviewed this book under the caption ‘Apparent Divide, Actual Bridges’, relating Goa to south Asia’s macro-level processes, without leaving it isolated as a dazzling but inexplicable pendant on Asia’s hippie and tourist routes. It should not surprise the reader if a large part of the book is devoted to the Goan musical tradition, which serves to link and also bind the Bhakti cult with Goan Christianity, Goan “kudds” with Bollywood, a lawyer-politician-freedom fighter of Orlim with a Souza lady born to a music merchant in Karachi and trained by an Italian maestro in Bombay and speaking English at home in a predominantly Portuguese influenced Salcete subculture. Even a rat frequented occasionally (p 270) the music classes of Father Philip Soares in the Dharwar parish of Aurora. Perhaps, he mistook the Goan music for the “laddus” of Lord Ganesha.

A New Approach

Couto follows neither the tourist brochure approach that goes little beyond describing the sun and sands of Goa, nor does she take up the stance of the academic historian, who in this book will have to bear with absence of their preference for footnoted erudition. Aurora prefers rather to “imagine and interpret” the process of conversion, subversion and compromise (pp 240-49) to which the population and the land were subjected since its occupation by Afonso de Albquerque in 1510. She prefers to build her “story of Goa” on the basis of her own choice of sources, giving the pride of place to family reminiscences and other kinds of oral traditions and F N Souza’s canvases, but above all to the two major rivers of Goa. Maria Aurora believes that the “view from the river is dramatically different”. This river-borne perspective would certainly make Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha keen to come to Goa, even though Aurora does not extend her view to the Buddhist or any other phase of pre-Portuguese Goa. Unlike Rushdie’s Epifânia, his Aurora’s grandmother, here we find an Aurora who reveals a sound respect for the Portuguese, but whose heart belongs to a greater India. The Portuguese get almost off the hook of most academic historians: they are presented as non-aggressive as a rule and without delusions of superiority. We are told that their coercion did not mean violence against human person, but only the violation of right to practise Hinduism, or that the citizenship granted to Goans was not matched with the right to highest positions of power, particularly in the church hierarchy and during the dictatorship of Salazar.

I cannot but feel deep empathy for the exercise performed by Maria Aurora Couto. My own Goa to Me (Concept Publishers, Delhi,1994) was a somewhat similar exercise of weaving the history of Goa with my own lived experience of situations of anguish and opportunities, not very different from what Couto and most other sons and daughters of Goa have gone through at different periods and contexts of Goa’s history. I see Goa – A Daughter’s Story as yet another worthy attempt to piece together one’s own lived experience with the help of the life-performances of many others, at all levels of the Goan community, whose common umbilical bond with Goa makes them all, individually and collectively, the makers of Goan history. Couto does not hide her belief in the role of the elite, but also presents history in tune with Pareto’s “cemetery of elite”. The book seems to have provided an opportunity for catharsis by seeking to unveil the main causes of the declining and dying feudal elite to which a large part of her ancestry belonged.

Through Maria Couto’s account, researchers like the present reviewer will perhaps find a wider readership for research on Goa’s agrarian economy and the baroque style of Christianity introduced by the Portuguese (p 158), the imposition in Goa Portuguesa of a “xendy” tax along the Mughal “jizya” model (p 200), the Mhamays of Goa, the debt owed by Jesuits to Bhagvatiny Camotiny at the time of their suppression, and African slavery in Goa (p 219), Lam Jaku’s (the reviewer’s grandfather) tirades against the pants-wearing (“calção-kar”) rulers and their native lackeys (p 239), the Jesuit impact upon the Goan agriculture and culture (p 251), the native Oratorians of Goa (p 319), the Pinto Revolt (p 324), and many other bits and pieces of information that do not always carry overt indication of their source. Maria Couto’s wide and rich survey of oral traditions and her encyclopaedic readings also validate many of my research conclusions, including the fact that Portuguese colonialism was sustained with the active collaboration of Hindu artisans, traders and diplomats (p 263). I can recall having chatted with Couto during her visit to Portugal and also during my visits to Goa. I remember having conveyed to her my conviction that with her socio-political background she was better placed than the scholars born and bred exclusively in Goa to present Goa on a larger canvas. That seems to have happened and a comparison of the book reviews at the local and national level bear witness to it.

Couto discovered in her genealogical lists a great-great-grandfather Antonio Caetano Pacheco, who has a road named after him in Margão. In 1955, the postal services of Portuguese India issued a stamp with his picture and name, to commemorate 450 years of the foundation of the “Estado Português da India”, to which he was elected as MP to serve in the Portuguese parliament in 1839. Had Couto gone beyond oral tradition, listening only to Priti Camotim, and “senhoras” Hira Sardessai and Hira Sakhardando in Lisbon, and found time to glance at the records of the Portuguese parliament (many of them can now be consulted online), she could have traced interesting details about her ancestor’s capacity to draft legislative projects in the company of Bernardo Peres da Silva. He was back in the Portuguese parliament after suffering exile from Goa in 1832 and after an aborted attempt by his relative and opium-baron Rogerio de Faria in 1835 to bring him back to power to serve his own business ambitions by ousting the Portuguese through a naval expedition he planned from Bombay, but which landed on the rocks of Vengurlá due to little attention paid to the announcements of early arrival of the monsoon that year (p 366), Bernardo Peres da Silva continued to be re-elected as MP for Goa till his death. He continued his political harangues on behalf of his land and his people in the Portuguese parliament, even when no minister in government cared to listen or respond to his demands. Silva did not relent till the end and earned for himself a mausoleum in Lisbon’s glamorous “Cemitério dos Prazeres”, a kind of open-air museum erected by the liberalism and secularism of the mid-19th century that took the burial grounds away from the medieval Catholic church precincts.

The Old Aristocracy

If I have pointed out in some detail the above cases, it is meant as an indirect comment on Couto’s lamentations and frustrations of the Goan feudal “bhatkars”, affecting significantly the destinies of her ancestry, including her beloved father (p 356) and inspirer of this book. They found little or no scope for idealism and creativity in the prevailing economic constraints that followed the British grip over Portuguese Indian economy (p 292) and after Salazar’s grip over the native political ambitions (pp 386-87). It is true that Couto cites the case of some young Goans, like Telo Mascarenhas, Adeodato Barreto and Lucio Miranda, who founded a “Partido Nacional Indiano” in the university city of Coimbra, in Portugal, or some visionary Hindu reformers in Goa, such as Hegdo Dessai, who led single handedly a press campaign through his newspaper Bharat, when some of his influential correligionaries had been co-opted to serve and toe the line of the administration. I am left with the impression that, while filial and human sensitivity makes Couto seek to mitigate the personal culpability of Goans who drowned their frustrations in alcoholism, she seems to be at a loss to explain how several others could resist and act within the same socio-political context with an intense sense of mission. Should we believe that most Goans, and many of the elite, like her cherished father could only find sublimation in faith and “alma”-driven music? If so, are we to conclude that the Portuguese “violence-free” colonialism did very well through the strategic promotion of a “lamb of God” or “suffering servant of Yahweh” theology with Lenten motets and what Salman Rusdie calls “kababed saints and tandooried martyrs”? Did music truly liberate the Christian soul (p 237)? Did it not rather lull and dull the pains and sufferings under the colonial rule, preventing an adequate political response of the masses?

Couto’s preliminary disavowal of academic history left me with some misgivings, but as I reached the end of the book, I could not help recalling the 16th century Portuguese adventurer in Asia and author of his world-famous Peregrinação. Till very recently, the literary critics believed that Fernão Mendes Pinto was lying or exaggerating most of the incidents he was narrating. Now it is admitted by serious researchers that he was truthful even in most details, but was forced to put into the mouths of others whatever he himself wanted to say about the Portuguese atrocities and opportunistic behaviour in Asia. The Portuguese Inquisition would not let him publish his book had he said those things as personal testimony. He had devised a literary style. Maria Aurora Couto seems to have laboured under some kind of self-inquisitorial pressures and done a superb job of making many others, including the present reviewer, say whatever could go counter to her determination to avoid extreme positions.

Just as I cherish Jawaharlal Nehru’s approach to Indian and World History through his well known The Discovery of India and Glimpses of World History, I have no doubts that Maria Aurora’s Goa – A Daughter’s Story will go a long way in presenting the social and cultural (which is always political, as the author admits in one place) in a language that is both polished and passionate, conveying deep love and the “Indian-ness of pluralism” as another reviewer has summed up in his conclusions of the book. Despite my whole-hearted concurrence, I fear that the “mestiços” who are presented as the real enemies, feared and hated by Goans from both communities (p 193), may feel themselves at the receiving end of this otherwise suave treatment of Goan cultural pluralism. The recently published second edition of a massive three volume listing of Os luso-descendentes da India Portuguesa by Jorge Forjaz could provide much powder for commemorative salvos, if not for more provocative exercises, as the fifth centenary of the conquest of Goa and Afonso de Albuquerque’s policy and politics of miscegenation nears. Could the “mesticos” or their descendants be brushed aside in Couto’s account of Goa Portuguesa? Were they dismissed summarily (pp 134-35) to avoid getting sucked into less pleasant reflections and interpretations? How about Goan natives, men and women, who sought matrimonial alliances with the white Portuguese, and are now integrated on either side of the present-day political geography divide? Where do they figure in the evolution of Goan identity as presented in Goa A Daughter’s Story? While it is easy to present the mestiços as enemies in the context of the liberal politics and pre-liberation conflicts of the Goan society, a more systematic treatment of their long-lasting presence in Goan identity could surely enrich our understanding of Goa’s cultural history.

Contrary to general belief, more white blood transfusion may have entered the Goan society through white females who married propertied and influential Goan “ganvkars” than through Portuguese males for whom native taboos made it difficult to find high caste native mates. These are just some provocations, hoping that Couto will accept the challenge and answer some of these questions in the near future by delving little deeper into the feats and adventures of the “gente muito fina,… tao delicadas, tão bonitas” (very refined people, very courteous and beautiful) about whom Couto’s mother used to reminisce (p 330). Why limit and stop the influences on the character of Goan women (and perhaps men as well?) with Dravidian matrilinealism, Buddhist philosophy and Kadamba queens (p 51)? This is not applicable only to the Christian community. If we are to go by oral tradition, the choice of D Bandodkar as the first elected chief minister of post-liberation Goa permitted a smooth transition for Goa, less politically than genetically! Hopefully, the Muslims who were left out from the present Aurorised version will also find some place in future versions. It was among them that Afonso de Albuquerque found the “mulheres castas e alvas” (chaste and fair women) to reproduce the “casados” and to forge a new identity for Goa Portuguesa.

Misspellings

To conclude, I wished the paperback edition that is reviewed here had made accessible this magnum opus of Maria Aurora Couto, not just for less price, but also with less misspellings of Portuguese words. Goans need not be made more “socegado” than they seem to be by replacing “ss” with one “c”, or made less braggarts by taking away one “r” from “fanfarrão” (braggart)! (p 360). Many missing Portuguese accent marks change the meanings of words, particularly in some phrases that are not accompanied by English translation. The archaic Portuguese orthography could have been modernised as most research historians usually do nowadays. But these are minor complaints. I would add on a lighter note that, if Aurora continues copying dutifully and affectionately the Portuguese texts of her father without fearing his knocks (p 260), she will certainly have all the spellings right very soon and in time for the future editions.

Email: teodesouza@netcabo.pt

Goanet Reader: Review -- check this vision....

2005-12-23T21:26:00.000-08:00

[One of my students wrote this review. -FN]

CHECK THIS VISION, FROM A VISUALLY-CHALLENGED ENTREPRENEUR IN GOA

By Anson Samuel ansonsam@rediffmail.com

--------------------------------- MOTIVATION... A man with a vision Rs. 30 Angelo D’Souza ---------------------------------

Have you caught sight of a butterfly opening a cocoon? Or a spider spinning its web? Or maybe an ant storing food in summer? You probably might have spotted or heard it as anecdotes. Don’t they need oodles of patience to go about doing this struggle of a task? And maybe a bit of perseverance and motivation too?

But, victory is favourable only to a few. In the rat-race of achieving success, present-day people leave no stone unturned burning the midnight oil and working indeed very hard. But failure strikes often, and right in the face. Failure gets plonked in the palms of so many today.

Aspirants are so simply bogged down to crash. The reason remains unknown, or does it really?

'Motivation: a man with a vision' is an autobiography written by Angelo D’Souza. An elderly slim man and an expert at the typewriter, he is the principal of the St. Jude’s Commercial Institute at Aldona. His institution is next to the Rosa Mystica Convent. One may say, what's the reason for creating a big din over a good and an experienced typist?

Well, this one is blind! And guess what, he's a damn good writer as well. He has to his credit the National Social Service Award which further motivated him to write news-items and articles. He has, so far, contributed two plays 'Will Power Lead Me On' (1995) and 'Love Triumph Labour Reward' (2001) to the BBC World Drama Contest.

Writing an autobiography can be tricky. If one stresses all his triumphs, s/he is likely to be classified as an egoist, reminding one of the saying that 'a donkey praises his own tail'. If he underplays achievement, he cannot convey the real intent and the very purpose of the autobiography is lost. So the jotting down of all experiences, though a knotty task for him, he has done it quite well.

This book also includes wise titbits and sayings, such as 'The need of the hour is not pity but empathy' and 'No one is more interested in you, other than you'.

The Goa State Branch of the National Association for the Blind recommends the book. Now, don’t cite the example of late Helen Keller, who conquered a triple-handicap. If you think about doing it, don't forget the circumstances she was born in, the social and family support she had, to be able to fight, totally in contrast with the circumstances and social environment in India in general and in Goa in particular.

The book deals with various facts of ones life. Chapters are based on interesting topics on his early stages -- the revelation made to Agnelo by his mentor that he is a victim of defective vision, his own reaction to the outbreak of the sad news and the early stages of anxiety.

Next follows a chapter that is about motivation -- the driving force within an individual: browse through it and activate the potentials in you. Take a peep into your own self. The chapter gives the idea of action, reflection, action.

Next comes a chapter to enables a person to encounter with the success he achieves, the fruit of his hard work. "The award did not permit me to sit and rest,” he says. Guess what follows: an attempt at being an upcoming playwrite and a mediaperson, as mentioned above.

Further in the book, the chapter 'Memoirs Of A Virtually Handicapped' is simply beautifully written. It brings out the thoughts, feelings and anguish of a blind person. Its anxiety is well-expressed in words. Deep touching, soul stirring and an eye opener to people who duck their heads low looking at their problems as "the" problem and not just "a" problem. This man of deficient vision shows how to stand face to face with a problem and encounter it.

The book provides with wisdom on the proper usage of words: don't get me wrong, this isn't a text for studying grammar and parts of speech, but rather words that will motivate and not cause one to efface oneself but to egg-on oneself forward. He makes us familiar with our very words that cause bitter torment and painful heart aches within others. The language has meandered through ones bold encounter with life. And, at the reasonable price it comes, do go for it.

---------- Anson Samuel was a participant at the Ixtt e-Mentorship Programme in Journalism conducted by Frederick Noronha during the academic year 2004-05, when he wrote this interview. If you have ideas or suggestions on keeping this programme running, and creating more socially-focussed journalists, please contact FN fred@bytesforall.org What we need is your support, not of the financial kind.

Goanet Reader: An imaginative story of Goa's turbulent time (Ben Antao's novel reviewed by Cornel DaCosta)

2005-12-23T21:25:00.000-08:00

[A nice review from Cornel. -FN]

BLOOD AND NEMESIS: AN IMAGINATIVE STORY OF GOA'S TURBULENT TIME

A review by Cornel DaCosta

On beginning to read this novel by a Goan author and set in Goa, my memory was drawn to a period between August and December 1961 that I spent in Nairobi, the capital of Kenya, whilst temporarily away from my hometown of Mombasa. I had stayed at a relatively new up-market YMCA, made new friends, including fellow Goans, others from the Indian sub-continent, and a few Brits, Germans, Dutch and Danes.

One was a particularly jovial young Portuguese gentleman. Television was not yet available to us, but in the main, BBC radio kept us informed about news around the world.

On the morning of December 19, 1961, on radio, I heard the dramatic news that, after 461 years, the Portuguese rulers had been ousted from Goa by the Indian armed forces. I recall being quite elated by this news. I had always opposed colonialism in principle and felt happy over the removal of the colonial yoke in my ancestral homeland of Goa.

Over breakfast that morning, it became clear that most of my new friends were rather excited and seemingly pleased with the news. However, the Portuguese gentleman in our midst wept inconsolably. When he calmed down, he explained that it was not so much the news about the Indian "occupation" of Goa that really upset him. He felt that this would have occurred sooner or later, because of the obduracy of the Portuguese Prime Minister Salazar. Rather, it was the manifestation of joy in me and fellow Goans, that morning that upset him greatly.

"How", he asked, still in tears, "could you, my Portuguese brothers celebrate the Indian takeover of Goa?" He was pained even more when I told him, as gently as I could, that as a Goan, I was never pro-Portuguese as he had perhaps imagined but an Indian at heart.

On continuing with Ben Antao's recently-released novel 'Blood and Nemesis', it further struck me that, despite visiting Goa several times from my subsequent abode in England, I had not followed the political changes in Goa too closely over the years. Instead, I was strongly drawn to study the abomination of caste practice among significant numbers of Catholic Goans, and also, to explore the effects of mass tourism on the paradise that is Goa.

The novel, however, captured my attention to the dramatic events leading to the incorporation of Goa into the republic of India and the roles of many individuals there who were for, or against, the expulsion of the Portuguese from the territory of Goa.

We thus get a vivid account of many antagonisms and actions centred mainly in Goa, over a relatively short historical period, up to, and soon after December 1961. The Indian military action is presented in considerable detail and the many characters involved are very real in terms of the actual events of the time.

In this very absorbing story, we note the ever-vigilant police presence represented by Jovino Colaco and his immediate boss Gaspar Dias. Both are determined to suppress any Goan anti-Portuguese sentiments and political activity sympathetic to Indian nationalism.

They take it upon themselves, on behalf of the authoritarian Portuguese administration, to bait freedom fighters, capture them, physically abuse them and then incarcerate them in the infamous Aguada jail in Goa. Their particular quarry from May 1955 was a fellow Goan, Santan Barreto. They kept a close eye on him and on his friends who usually spent their leisure time at Bombay Cafe in the town centre of Margao in south Goa.

This cat and mouse strategy is captured brilliantly in the novel. It depicts Jovino, the policeman invariably on his motorbike, as a power-hungry individual, with a weakness for drink, gambling and prostitutes.

He is determined to amass wealth corruptly and to gain promotion at work, having been told by his superiors that his advancement would depend on his success in capturing Goan freedom fighters who operated clandestinely.

In contrast, Santan, fired by a powerful desire to rid Goa of the Portuguese presence becomes increasingly elusive but very active in the subversive underground political network. He surreptitiously outsmarts and frustrates Jovino for a long time. He also gets emboldened by minor skirmishes against the police, and with fellow conspirators, manages to attack isolated police posts to obtain firearms and ammunition. However, his luck eventually runs out. The vigilant Jovino strikes lucky late one night and Santan is captured, abused, and then summarily jailed. He survives the harsh treatment in prison for years and is eventually freed in 1961 during the rapid Indian military action.

Freedom for Santan Barreto and his fellow freedom fighters is sublime, but clearly, at a high cost of life and limb for many in the struggle. He eventually manages towards normal life and his fame as a freedom fighter and hero spreads rapidly with considerable adulation from the local people and also in Bombay. However, he is determined to find his former oppressor, Jovino. Thus the former hunter nowbecomes actively hunted.

Jovino had decided earlier, to continue to live in Goa, despite the available option from Gaspar Dias, to flee Goa by air for Portugal via Karachi in Pakistan.

Tracking Jovino proved to be more difficult than expected for Santan and his comrades as the canny policeman had hidden all traces of his whereabouts in Goa. Nevertheless, after much assiduous detective work of his own, Santan is able to find the final location of his Nemesis, Jovino, and has to then deal with a totally unexpected situation towards the end of this scintillating novel.

This is Ben Antao's first novel and seasoned readers of novels will detect features which are innovative in this genre in terms of the story line, its grounding in a specific historical period and in the presentational style.

For me, it absorbingly took me from my pre-independence Kenya experience, as described above, to the time of Goa's liberation in 1961. Whilst reading the novel, I also reflected on the continuing intellectual premise encapsulated by VS Naipaul, the famous novelist and Nobel laureate, and others, that fiction is dead, vanquished by our need for facts.

To my mind, this is highly debateable, but there is nevertheless, much on-going discussion on this theme and about those novels, which have, in their narrative, strong links to actual facts as in the case of Blood and Nemesis.

Clearly, we can have accurate historical accounts of actual events, but so too, the literary novel of the kind presented by Ben Antao, that stretches the reader's imagination in a way that a historical text may also do, but rather differently. In Antao's case, introspective imaginative storytelling has had the power to reveal underlying truths in highly turbulent and trying times.

On a related issue, today, there are those who have not accepted Goa as liberated but as under occupation by India. This novel zeroes in on the elements of this dilemma around the time of the military action in 1961.

Antao, who lived in Goa and Bombay for much of his life before eventually settling in Toronto, Canada, depicts this particularly well and insightfully. He has had other publications, one of which, available to me, was biographical in orientation. But I enjoyed Blood and Nemesis very much, despite what I thought was perhaps a bit of an abrupt ending.

Perhaps this specific comment stems from my desire to have wanted to read even more material in this particular novel. But in another sense, the novel has whetted my appetite for a welcome sequel that could take us from the dramatic events of 1961 to the present in Goa.

The particular conundrum whether Goa has been liberated or is an occupied territory in the eyes of some people living there, and in the Goan diaspora, is worthy of a follow-up by Antao. Hopefully, when readers convey their impressions of Blood and Nemesis to the author, he will be inspired to generate more pleasurable reading in his distinctive and inimitable style.

Blood & Nemesis By Ben Antao Goan Observer Private Ltd. 318 pages, Rs. 250 ($25 CN)

Blood & Nemesis was released on June 18, 2005, at International Centre, Goa, by freedom fighter and author James Fernandes.

For inquiries contact: Ben Antao (Toronto) 416 250 8885 ben.antao@rogers.com

Cornel DaCosta, PhD, author and specialist on University Education, is based in London, England.

Goanet Reader [Book Review]: The Sixth Night by Silviano C. Barbosa, reviewed by Zoe Ackah

2005-12-23T21:24:00.000-08:00

This review is by Zoe Ackah... FN

Book Review - The Sixth Night by Silviano C. Barbosa

By ZOE ACKAH [The Epoch Times July 21, 2005]

The Sixth Night is a scaled down, James A. Mitchener style historical fiction set mainly in colonial Goa. Admittedly, before reading the book I had no idea where Goa was or that it was such a unique and interesting place. Those of you who lived during the hippie era are probably more than familiar with Goa, which gained great popularity as a tourist attraction in the 60s and 70s.

For those who don't know, located in India, Goa has been on the world stage since the pre-Christian era, first documented by the Summerians around 2200 BC. It has been recognized as a fertile paradise by everyone who has been there since.

In more recent history, Goa was colonized by the Portuguese for 400 years until the 1960s. This creates and interesting cultural mélange. The population is now 30 percent Catholic, 65 percent Hindu and 5 percent Muslim. The cuisine and cultural traditions are a complimentary mix of Asian and European.

The Portuguese were expelled from Goa in 1961 when India "reclaimed" her. It is precisely this point in history, the pivotal generation that experienced Goa's return to India first hand, that the author explores.

Our main character, Linda, is a simply-drawn Catholic village girl of the shudra caste. Battling caste discrimination with a stunning intellect, and a childhood of good fortune, Linda is the first in her family to receive a high-level education.

The book chronicles Linda's trials and tribulations as a woman, a shudra, and a Catholic educated in Portuguese just as the English-language-dominated Indian government takes over her homeland. She travels through Europe, ending up in Toronto, Canada.

Having fathered a child by a Portuguese diplomat, from whom she is accidentally separated during the turmoil surrounding Goa's transition to Indian rule, Linda's story is the notable personal conflict in the novel.

The details of this conflict are described rather mechanically and superficially. The emotions likely associated with the painful events surrounding the adoption of Linda's child, and the emotions of the child herself are suspiciously shallow. Indeed, the characters seem unbelievably innocent after all they have been through. The likely consequences of their suffering are left unexplored, and the prose is simplistic.

It seems as if the characters serve merely to explore Catholic Goa's history and unique culture – a feat the author accomplishes very well, making the country itself the real star of the action. Luckily, the book is well researched, and Goa's history is sufficiently interesting, making The Sixth Night a worthwhile read for history lovers and travel junkies.

For a look at "The Sixth Night" web-site visit http://ca.geocities.com/goaraj@rogers.com. The descriptions of Goa's geographical beauty, pristine village life, and fantastic food, food and more food, will make you want to visit. Luckily the government of Goa's tourism site is really fantastic, and includes recipes for all the food carefully described in "The Sixth Night".

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ABOUT THE AUTHOR: The writer Zoe Ackah is editor of 'The Epoch Times', a Canadian publication, where this review was published.

GOANET READER WELCOMES contributions from its readers, by way of essays, reviews, features and think-pieces. We share quality Goa-related writing among the growing readership of Goanet and it's allied network of mailing lists. If you appreciate the above article, please send in your feedback to the writer. Our writers write -- or share what they have written -- pro bono, and deserve hearing back from those who appreciate their work. Goanet Reader too welcomes your feedback at feedback@goanet.org Goanet Reader is edited by Frederick Noronha <fred@bytesforall.org>

What a loss: goabooks.swiki.net

2005-12-21T22:41:00.000-08:00

What a loss... a Swiki in which one invested a lot of time and energy (including cover scans) no longer works -- http://goabooks.swiki.net

Why Goa has names for 132 species of local fish... (a brief review)

2005-12-12T00:29:00.000-08:00

Thomas Stephens Konkkni Kendr of Alto Porvorim has recently come out with Sod-9, a new issue of the Konkani research bulletin. It's a volume to felicitate Dr Matthew Almeida SJ who completed 70 years recently. Many would know Fr Almeida as a teacher-rector-principal in St Vincent's (Pune), St Britto's (Mapusa), St Paul's (Belgaum), St Paul's Junior College (Belgaum) and in other roles at Loyola Hall (the Jesuit-training institution at Miramar), the first director of the TSKK (when it was transitioning between Miramar and Porvorim) and as Sod editor from 2000.

Those working in Konkani may not get the attention deserved. As his colleague and confrere Pratap Naik sj writes: "Konknni lok mootbhar and toh shipdoon padla sansarbar. Tantun Konknni vachpi chimtibhar. Boroupi teelbhar." (Konkani speakers are a fistful, and they too have been scattered across the globe. Of them, Konkani readers are a pinch-ful, and writers, and even less significant number.)

That apart, this volume, priced at Rs 100, does a good job of bringing focus to a language that adds to the linguistic diversity, and encodes within its rich insights into this what makes this region tick.

Joseph Velingkar of St Xavier's College (Mumbai)-based Heras Institute writes on the village communities in Goa and their evolution. He writes: "This system of village communities, in turn, gave rise to social distinctions among the population. It not only divided into castes, each disputing superiority over the other, but again divided the villagers into two big classes, ganvkars and residents (moradores). The ganvkars, being the descendents of the founding fathers of the village, claimed to be the aristocrats of the place, and looked contemptuously on the residents, i.e. those not descending from the original settlers. The struggle for dominance between these classes is more clearly seen in the celebration of religious feasts and processions."

But another argument seems a bit to simplistic, and officially-attuned: "After Liberation, the village communities being found stagnant, the Agricultural Tenancy Bill was passed to provide security to and reduce the rent burden on the on the tenant cultivators. The tenant was also freed from the absentee landlord's exploitation and kept in direct contact with the State."

Former XCHR founder-director Dr Teotonio R de Souza's focus is on the use of 'confessionarios', or manuals of confession. His chapter is titled 'Missionary tools and their colonial uses: the case study of Goa'.

Souza writes: "The pioneering role of the Portuguese Discoveris in extending the impact of 'modernity' was far from a secular exercise. The age of 'lights' was yet to dawn. The Portuguese 'Padroado' system was a weeding of the State and Church interests on a world scale. The Society of Jesus played a pivotal role in the practical functioning of this joint venture, saving the State much cost in violent domination of the eastern countries."

But he also says: "Even though it is not uncommon nowadays to read derogatory comments about the missionaries as accomplicies of the Western colonial expansion, we need to admit that colonialism could have been a much more brutal reality without such a missionary accompaniment."

Souza tells about his chance find of a "small sized, leather-bound codex (4.5" x 7") in the 'Additional Manuscripts' collection of the British Library some years ago. It begins with 'Arte do Canarym, composta pelos nossos Padres, e tresladada pola mao do clerigo Antonio da Silva Bramane de Margao...."

Delio de Mendonca, sj, the current-director of the Xavier Centre of Historical Research at Alto Porvorim, looks at the 'alvara' (colonial diktat) that deposed the local language from Goa. Mendonca's view questions some current views. He writes:

"If the Portuguese empire in the East had dwindled, Goa nevertheless continued to appear, for the Portuguese at least, as a very important place to be defended. From 1530, Goa had become the capital and centre of the Estado da India and symbol of social and religious unity. Even in the seventeenth century, Goa was spoken of as the best territory Portugal had in India. Had the alvara been implemented, as it is often believed it was, Goa would suffer the most. But some prefer to see this alvara as the work of a paranoid viceroy, or that the alvara was never implemented or that such never existed. Truly, there is no alvara just for ousting the Konkani language, and much less one on the suppression of the language as I had believed earlier this alvara was all about."

Prajal Sakhardande of Dhempe's history department has an article on Margao "the historian's delight". Goa Konkani Akademi's Jayanti Nayak has another piece on 'Lokvedantleayan adhunik sahityachee prerana' focussing on the local popular culture.

Pratap Naik has another piece on the literature of Konkani and its dialects. He explains the concept of a standard dialect, political, historical, social, economical, educational, cultural and literary 'bolis' (dialects). Then he touches on the script issue, and the differences between the Goan Christian speech and that of the Mangalorean Christian. There are also differences between the Mangalorean Christian and the Karnataka Gaud Saraswat. Or, for that matter, between the Goan Saraswat and the average Goan Hindu (aiylo-yeylo, udok-uddik, ashillo-asllo, taka-teka, cholo-chedo, tanger-tenger, chali-chedum, hataar-hateer, etc).

Naik, who heads the TSKK, ends with the orthography he suggests for an easy-to-pronounce and read contemporary Romi script. Using it, the Our Father's Prayer would be rendered thus:

Amchya bapa s^rgi~chya, tuje~ na~v p^vitr za~v; tuje~ raz amka~ ye~v; tuji khuxi s^rgar zata t^xi s^~vsar~t za~v. Amcho disp^ddto gras az amka~ di; ani ami amcher chukl^lya~k bh^gxita~v t^xe~ amchi~ patka~ bh^g^s; ani amka~ tallnne~t p^ddu~k di~v naka, punn vaytta~tli~ amka~ nivar.

[TSKK orthography could be used to write Konkani in Roman script in a scientific way. Except three speech sounds of Konkani other speech sounds are represented in this orthography. Here below I will give you a key how to pronounce Konkani speech sounds for those who are not familiar with Konkani. ^ as in ago. ~ is used for nasalized vowels.]

Rinald D'Souza has a piece on the Goan Fisherman: His Fish and His Life. Would you believe that the traditional fisherman in Goa has a rich-enough vocabulary to describe some 132 species of fish! From Arro (Caranx kurra) to Xinanni (Mytilus viridis). D'Souza does a good job in describes the various mores of fishing prevalent in traditional Goa, now under pressure from mechanisation, trawlers and the lure of the tourism dollar. These include the porsovnni, zalli oddop, gorovnni, poler, davnni, choddovnnechem nustem, kantalli, mag, har, kinv (poy), jilettin, koblem, manos, umallo kaddop, nustem oddop, khannem pikovop, khunttavnni, pagop and ttrolor. Of course, the last isn't traditional, but came into Goa only in the 1960s.

Allan Baptista writes an introduction to the Xavier Centre of Historical Research and its activities, while Matthew Almeida ends with a piece on the evolution and modification of the Roman script for Konkani.

All in all, a very useful publication. Get a copy before it goes out of print, as happens with publications in Goa quickly. One would wish the articles could come from beyond a largely-Jesuit research circuit; but then the difficulty to get in contributions related to Goa (this journal uses English-language pieces related to Goa too) might be one reason.

More details from tskk at sancharnet.in or 241 5857 and 241 5867.

Roman script Konkani... in new form

2005-08-24T10:25:00.000-07:00

Dev b^ro dis di~v. Tu~ k^so asay? Ha~v b^ro asa~. Tuje~ na~v kite~? Mh^je~ na~v Pedru. Tu~ kh^~y ravtay? Ha~v Go~ya~ ravta~. Ko~knni Go~ychi razbhas. Tuzo bapuy kite~ k^rta? Mh^zo bapuy xeta~t kam k^rta. Tu~ mhaka ek narl ani pa~ch a~be dixi? Falya~ tuka haddun dita~. Ha~v p^rva~ tanger vet^lo~. Ami tumger az yeta~v. Tumi godd khayat ani ud^k piyeyat. Ambo godd asa. Ti kh^`y veta? Ti ig^rjek veta.... ----------------------------------------------------------------- What's that? It's no computer-generated gibberish. It's the new form of writing Roman script Konkani, being proposed and propagated by the Jesuit-run Thomas Stephens Konknni Kendr of Porvorim. If you haven't seen it so far, grab a copy of the 2005 published 52-page book titled 'TSKK Romi Lipi: Ko-knni b^ro~vchi rit)'. After many years of supporting Devanagiri Konkani, the TSKK has recently and rather drastically come out strongly in favour of the Roman (Romi) script. But a modified Romi script it is. The ^s and the ~s are supposed to help you to get closer to the actual Konkani pronounciation. Even while making it easy to reproduce on a computer! It explains: "TSKK orthography makes uses a linear typing system without too many diacritics, making use of only the standard computer keyboard. It has used 24 alphabets of the Roman alphabet and added only two new symbols, namely ~ for nasal vowels, and ^ for (the Devanagiri sound aa)." Of course, the idea is to take the wind out of the Devanagiri sails, and the long-propagated allegation that Romi-script Konkani isn't suited for pronouncing a South Asian language like Konkani. My guess is that those who are used to writing Romi Konkani in the traditional, Portuguese-influenced manner might offer some resistance in changing over too. Maybe I'll be wrong.... But the greatest beneficiaries could be those trying to study a new language (Konkani) without running into the wall of a new script (Devanagari) and at the same time get the pronounciation right. Including the large number of expats, researchers wanting to learn Konkani, or people simply wanting to learn the language. Knowing the Jesuitical determination with which TSKK works, one could expect both a publishing fever of new books and also possible training programmes for neo-learners of Konkani. Personally, I found it easy to read the new script -- more user friendly than the traditional Roman (where you have to kind of guess the pronounciations, if you don't know it) and surely far more easier than the Devanagiri which I teach my daughter Riza (7) for her second standard, without having adequately studied the lingo in my life. Besides an issue of script, it's also a question of dialect. Some words tend to be pretty alien to the average Konkani speaker... leave aside those influenced by an emigrant background. Having said all this, there are some worrying aspects about linguistic chauvinism in Goa. Firstly, language has long been used as a beating stick, rather than an enabling tool for the commonman. Go to any history seminar, and you'll see Portuguese chauvinism asking how you can be there if you were born too late to know the language. Walk into the post-1961 chauvnism and see the way English (which has been one of India's associate official languages) and, more-so Portuguese, are treated as "foreign" languages. Being around in India, and widely used by millions (specially in English's case) is obviously not enough. On the other hand, knowing English is a fashion-statement, and reflects an aspiration to the better things in life. Konkani looks down on Marathi, and Konkani even looks at the various dialects of its different speaker groups. In some of the campaigning for Romi Konkani that has come up here, we've seen an attitude which seeks to replace the attempted-hegemony of Antruzi Konkani (which happens to be largely Hindu upper caste, and not even widely accepted by the other castes... as reflected in the fledging circulation of a newspaper like say the Sunaparant) with the hegemony of Bardeshi (which happens to be largely Catholic). Can't we just accept that different groups in Goa have their own preferences of language, script and dialect? Can't we also accept that language is also (more?) about caste and community in Goa, and if any one or the other group has its own preferences, so be it. We can't complain about the hegemonistic attempts of others (for instance, Devanagari Konkani, in this case), yet seek to act hegemonistic ourselves towards others (say, Marathi supporters). One good thing the TSKK attempt is that there *seems* to be an attempt at being inclusivist, simplifying Konkani and making it accessible to more. Rather than working towards a 'classical' Konkani, what needs to be done is to engineer a language which the commonman finds useful, while at the same time keeping his (or her) window open to the outside world. Let's see if these trends continue over time. From the last 15-years experience (since 1987, and the Official Language Act), we've seen Konkani being unable to offer the promised jobs, open up opportunity (it has, but only for a *select* few), or make the administration accessible to the commonman. Konkani's growth won't come from official language status, promises of patronage from those in power, and heightened doses of chauvinism. It would probably come from making the language easy to learn, making it widely accessible specially in the audio-visual world (that interesting journalist of yesteryears -- no disrespect meant here, but like many good writers, he's another one in exile -- Linken Fernandes wrote a good piece on this recently, in the Gomantak Times). It would also grow from being more widely used on computers, the tool of the moment. And by the way, here's a rather unconnected personal request to those making posts in Romi Konkani on this forum: please continue doing so. But, while doing so, please also add a four-line introduction (in English) to what you're writing. Let's make the post accessible (and maybe understandable, one day) to more readers out there. Just a few thoughts from a commonman, and a few observations from a non-linguist about an issue that affects us severely: language. -FN

Of museums... and more

2005-02-26T15:23:00.000-08:00

Rudolf Ludwig aka Kammermeier of the Art Chamber (aka Galeria de Belas Artes) at Gauravaddo in Calangute has helped the Goa Tourism (of "365 days on holiday" fame) to put together a tourist guide for museums, galleries and places with cultural activities. Don't ask me how to get a copy of this 23-page booklet, I just ran into one through one of the museums! Even if a little slanted towards the central coast of Goa -- the tourist zone -- it throws up an amazing set of places to visit, maps, URLs and basic info. Any guess how many museums Goa has? There's the Goa State Museum and then there's Architect Gerard da Cunha's relatively-new architectural museum called Houses of Goa (no website listed, but email archauto at sancharnet.in). The Xavier Centre of Historical Research, at Porvorim, has its Gallery on Christian Art, named the Xavier Xandev Museum. (Again, no website. Email delio at sancharnet.in). Then, there's the archaeological museum and portrait gallery at Old Goa, the Christian Art Museum at the same location, and the Pilar Seminary Museum. ("Its history was brought to light by the discovery of ancient artefacts while digging the foundations for the educational institutions and while desilting an old tank within the compound of the present Society of Pillar. All these items collected and mounted in the Pilar Seminary Museum are displayed in relation to the dynasties and the periods passed through the centuries.") Email aisem at sancharnet.in Big Foot at Loutolim (aka Ancestral Goa) is an attempt to illustrate and recreate Goa's traditional past. See Big Foot's site. You might find it hard to believe, but there's even a vintage-cars collection of sorts -- Ashvek Vintage World "dedicated to restore and preserve motoring and motorcycling gems of historical interest in Goa". You can find cars ranging from ye old Mercedes Benz, to the Peugeot, Morris, Chevrolet and the Volkswagen. Check it out at Nuvem, on permanent display. Entry Rs 50. Email ashvek at sancharnet.in Then, there's the Museum of Blessed Joseph Vaz or email sanjovaz at sancharnet.in) and the Naval Aviation Museum. You can see and touch vintage aircrafts like the Sealands, Doves, Alizes, Seahawks, Vampires and Huges Helicopters. After all, our defence outlay is unexpectedly high! Other venues listed -- Art Chamber at Calangute, the Kerkar Art Complex and more. Dr Subodh Kerkar has two galleries, one for his permanent collection, and the other housing the works of Indian and foreign artists. The open air auditorium puts up performances in Indian classical music and dance. Then, there's the Kala Academy -- and the Fundacao Oriente in India, the Central Library (even tourists can become temporary members). Art galleries in Goa include Gallery Gitanjali (run by Ajit Sukhija in a building that once was the People's High School at Fontainhas), Galeria Cidade at the Cidade de Goa luxury resort, Peace Cottage Fine Art Gallery perched between two luxury hotels at Betalbatim , Gallery Boa Arte opposite the Municipal Garden in Panjim, Picturesque opposite the Goa Urban Cooperative Bank also in Panjim, Gallery Yemania in Verem (kips at vsnl.net.in) and the Attic with its clay sculpture and antique furniture near Mount Carmel Chapel in Mapusa . Don't forget the Sound and Light Gallery Museum at Old Goa, where one can get a religious tour, artistically done, for just ten rupees, even at most of the museum and centres in Goa continue to charge abysmally low entry fees even for those who could pay more! The last named is the Goa Science Centre, a great fun-place for kids specially, but not only.

Goa Konkani Akademi's books (details awaited)

2005-02-26T15:20:00.000-08:00

Today's Herald announces (Page 4, Feb 26, 2005) that the Goa Konkani Akademi will mark its 10th anniversary with a "short programme of releasing new books". This is to be held on March 4. Details of the books however are not spelt-out, neither is the reader told how many books would be published.

WWF books

2005-02-26T15:15:00.000-08:00

Just came across some WWF-India (Goa) books, or should one call them reports, related to this state. They're on the medicinal plants of Goa, birds of Goa and the like. Need to follow up with Nitin S Sawant, Director WWF India, Goa Science Centre, Miramar, Panjim 403001 Ph 832.2465480 or email wwfgoa at sancharnet.in. Nitin stays opposite Patrao Bar in Porvorim. Ph 832.2414278. Email nitinww105 at rediffmail.com

On women and girls in Goa

2005-02-21T13:44:00.000-08:00

Shaila Desouza of the Centre for Women's Studies (at the Goa University, Goa) sent in a copy of the book she co-authored with Ms Nirmala Sitharaman of the National Commission for Women (New Delhi). Looking forward reading that more closely. Incidentally, the NCW site is here. (Oops, some problem with the URL?) They can be contacted via email at mahila alfa.nic.in This book: 119 pages, May 2004, price not mentioned. Large format. Paperback.

Book of Edna's recipes

2005-02-21T12:52:00.000-08:00

Mississauga, Ontario-based Edna is author of 'Saviour the Flavour of India', pp 132, January 2005 printed at Pilar, Goa. This book is available from tonferns at hotmail.com

Just getting started ... see http://goabooks.swiki.net

2005-02-21T12:22:00.000-08:00

This is a new site created to review books related to Goa. Check GoaBooks Your comments, feedback, suggestions, brickbats are welcome.

'Drop out, Tune In and Turn On'

1996-11-27T10:06:00.000-08:00

Frederick Noronha takes us back to hippie days in Anjuna GOA TODAY, November 1996 Goa Freaks: My Hippie Years in India by Cleo Odzer Blue Moon Books DID you wonder how the hippies of the '70s managed to live seemingly luxurious lives in Goa without doing a day's work? Want to know how they spent months on a tiny stretch of Anjuna beach? Or what really attracted them to Goa? If so, this is the book. It is a must-read for the student of sociology, the Goan from the coastal belt, and about anyone curious to understand the changes this society underwent in the last three decades. Cleo Odzer is herself a former hippie, reincarnated as a respectable academic in the US. She tells the full story, with brutal and uncensored honesty. Even at the risk of portraying herself as a narcissistic, self-centered and a law-breaking guest of Goa. This book's significance is that it is the first to decode the lives and times of the hippies of Goa, which was one of the hippie-capitals worldwide (besides Ibiza in Spain and Kathmandu). Odzer grew up in the lap of Jewish affluence in New York, as a disaffected youth in the post-Vietnam War generation. She opted to restlessly comb Europe and the Middle East before taking the overland bus from Europe to Goa. Four years -- of drugs, depravity and a meaningless existence -- was, however, more than she could take of it. Returning to the US, she valiantly worked her way to a doctorate in Anthropology. She now works with a drug rehabilitation group called Daytop. Her story zooms in on that community of aliens which relocated to a tiny stretch of Goa. Though based in Anjuna, the Goa Freaks, as they called themselves, kept links across the globe. There were some in San Francisco. Many temporarily shifted to Bali (Indonesia). Bangkok was a oft-visited destination. They congregated around a few down-market hotels in Mumbai too. But in the monsoon, the Goa Freaks fled the torrential rains and undertook 'scams' -- couriering drugs to distant locations. On this money, they lavishly lived it up in the ensuing season. Returns were high. Drugs bought for $2000 in Asia could retail for $21,843 in Canada. Just to carry somebody else's drugs to Canada, they were paid $8000 to $10,000. On their drug earnings, they lived life to the hilt. En route, they stayed in the Sheratons, the Holiday Inns and the Hiltons, and met contacts at the Taj. Cleo Odzer, returning to Anjuna from Canada one time, meets a friend coming in from Thailand. Take her word for it: "We exchanged knowing smiles. Now I knew how the Goa Freaks made the money to splurge on so much coke (cocaine). Now I knew, because I'd been initiated. I was really one of them." Odzer narrates how she opened her "dope den," called the Anjuna Drugoona Saloona, after boldly tacking handwritten adverts throughout the beach! Her description of the outdoor and indoor parties clearly suggest these are fueled by persons linked to the drug trade which is far more organized than most of us could dream of. Odzer suggests the Goa police failed to be vigilant in curbing the drug trade. Despite reading her letters and raiding her home, they simply let her off. In comparison, even Thailand was very strict on drugs, and Bali was firm even against nudism. This is not a story of Goa. It is a story of the hippies' escapades, which has Anjuna as the backdrop only incidentally. Nonetheless, it is fascinating reading. In brief references, we get a hint of the dramatic interface between West and East. Once, a "French junkie" fell into a well and died, resulting in a "major disaster" for the villagers dependent on its water. Goans are shown as a people willing to put up with the "crazy foreigners" for what they get out of them. By 1979, nothing they do surprises the locals anymore, says Odzer. Goans were also little more than a source of cheap labour. "A Westerner doing housework! What an unheard-of thing in that land of cheap labor," writes Odzer. "Living in Goa could be stupendously inexpensive. Food and rent cost little and I paid the Goan maid $22 a month for coming in seven days a week and doing everything. Drugs were the main rupee eaters... the low cost of Goan labor allowed me to hire an army of painters for pennies an hour," commented Odzer. Based on first-hand experience, Cleo Odzer is able to smartly analyze the mechanics of drug smuggling. Maybe Customs officers could consider adopting this book as a text. For instance, on the Bangkok-Mumbai run, drug-couriers realize that the Customs officials are obsessed with locating electronic goods, not drugs. Duplicate passports were used to hide traces of traveling in drug-prone Far East Asia. The Goa Freaks took out drugs to destinations in the West. To avoid detection, they visited posh hairdressers and transited through drug-free destinations -- like Portugal, Switzerland, Bermuda, Canada, and even the former Soviet Union! Drugs were smuggled in a variety of places: leather suitcases specially stitched in Mumbai. Condom-packed narcotics were stuffed in the intestines and vagina. "Smack" was brought in from Laos hidden in a toothpaste tube. To retain it in their intestines, "a bottle of diarrhea medicine" had to be consumed. To get it out called for "a box of Ex-Lax," a laxative! Dr. Odzer makes it clear from the start: "This is a nonfiction story, but some names and characters and exact dates have been changed to protect identities." Still, many are clearly identifiable. One only has to refer to Goa Today's past issues to know who are the drug pushers being referred to. Some still make their appearances. Others, like "Biriyani" had purchased properties here not too long ago. Sadly, a few who featured in the book died in "mysterious ways." Many Goan characters and institutions also figure in this book -- Joe Banana, landlord Lino, Paradise Pharmacy, Hanuman Ice Cream, the Birmingham Boys gang, and Inspector Navelcar. There's also "the private Catholic hospital in Mapusa" where the freaks go to recuperate. Not all that is revealed may be flattering information. Strange names and unusual characters also people this book: Neal, Alehandro, an American named Narayan and another named Sadhu George, Norwegian Monica, Mental, Serge, Barbara, Junky Robert and Tish, David and Ashley, Canadian Jacques, Hollywood Peter, Marco and wife Gigi, Guiliano, Amsterdam Dean, Trumpet Steve, Paul, Jerry Schmaltz and Eight-Finger Eddie. Some still live in Goa. One of the hippies even named their son Anjuna. But he grew up into a "conservative young man with short hair who refused to be called Anjuna, and who just enlisted in the US police academy." One of the pharmacies she names allegedly even bought narcotic drugs from Odzer! To maintain her drug habit she has to undergo amazing levels of depravity: join a gang stealing traveler's cheques in Mumbai and agree to sexual abuse by a police official in a Delhi jail. Finally, Odzer takes a hard decision. Drugs slowly decimated the Anjuna freak community, and she is shocked to find the number of friends dead or in jail. Death stares at her too in the face and drugs make her lose touch with reality. She either has to lose India or her life. This story is best narrated in her own words: "Oh, I hated the notion. This place was my dream. I would never find one I loved as much, or that I could belong to as wholeheartedly. Goa was home." Odzer's story can move you to tears. Even if you're an irate Goan who believes the hippies ruined the place and brought in drugs. It can also make you feel terribly angry. Scenes where she has to leave behind her dog are touching. But, then, to learn that she fed her pet prawns-in-wine-sauce, or bought saris merely to hang from the ceiling, is nothing short of scandalous. Despite her impeccable academic credentials, Dr. Cleo Odzer liberally sprinkles her book with the Bs, Ds, and quite a few F-words too. But this recreates a feeling of re-living the hippie years of Goa. Goa Freaks has a fascinating style. A young Odzer herself poses seductively on the cover, tells you of her own sexual escapades, and uses a style that keeps the narrative gripping throughout. But do we find it interesting because, in Goa, we have long been puzzled and unable to understand the hippie reality? Some may find the portrayal too superficial. It makes the flower-power generation seem simply obsessed with sex and drugs. But perhaps the hippies of the late '70s were a different cup of tea from those who preceded them. Incidentally, despite their distaste for the Western "capitalist" lifestyle, the late-70s hippies "loved gadgets, and at the start of each season they fussed over the latest inventions brought from the West." Odzer, incidentally, was kind enough to send across complimentary copies of her costly book to public libraries in Goa -- including the Central Library's Rare Books Section and the Xavier Centre at Porvorim. Maybe she can further repay her host society by passing on some drug-rehab skills from Daytop. [FOOTNOTE, written in end 2005: Cleo Odzer apparently like this review; she posted it to her site, where it was still available at this point of time. I got the impression that she was a bit surprised that Indians could write English ;-) and comprehend what she was talking about. Subsequently, she moved back to Goa. When I mentioned her untimely death here itself, a few of her friends contacted me via the Net. Unfortunately, we never got the chance to meet up in Goa, even if we spoke on the phone a few times, and I lent her a spare email account when she seemed desperate to access the Net in the Anjuna of the late 'nineties.-FN]