EXPLORING GOA’S MANY WORLDS

Goa’s history has witnessed the engagement of various inhabitants and cultures with the land in many complex ways. Owing to its location as one of the important port cities in the Indian Ocean network, and later due to the migration of its people to Africa, the Persian Gulf, Australia, the Americas and Europe, Goa has been a part of many worlds. In other words, the four hundred-odd years of Goa’s history as a territory of Portugal have contributed in multiple ways to the emergence and development of its character. With the coming of the tourism-boom circa 1980s, this interaction of Goa with other cultures and peoples seems to have been given a violent shake.

To say that the tourism boom has created problems for the Goan society would be to state the obvious. But, rather than discuss the obvious economic and social ills that have plagued tourism, this column would like to take tourism in Goa as a point of departure for talking about the problem of a dearth of in-depth scholarship. I say so largely because the rapid changes that were brought about by tourism have not been studied in-depth. While there is a clamor to invest in the development of the tourism sector, one does not see similar demands being made in order to critically study the problems that came in the wake of tourism. So what the example of tourism enables us to see is the lack of any demand to seriously invest in intellectual activities despite there being an urgent need. There is a serious lack of a well structured agenda to invest in an intellectual corpus of Goans who will go to the root cause and explain the ills that are faced by the Goan society. In other words, we may know that we have a problem but we may not know why the problem occurred in the first place.

Investing in intellectual pursuits is not simply a matter of finding the financial resources, but also of allowing access to a diversity of people across the social and economic spectrum to indulge in research and writing. I say so because many commentators on Goa (Goan or otherwise) would point out that since Goan communities are established in various parts of the world, and many Goans have occupied and occupy valuable and influential positions in several institutions, Goa has benefitted greatly. But in reality what we see is that very little of this advantage has translated into an intellectual benefit for Goa. What one observes is that this intellectual benefit has and to a large extent is, confined within age old networks of class, caste, and family. The problem is that in Goa nobody likes to talk about this concentration of power and privilege into the hands of the few. The flip side of the issue is that despite many different peoples flocking to Goa – largely for holidays – Goa seems to have been unable to forge any meaningful cultural contacts. I do concede that in this two-way exchange, of Goans migrating out of Goa, and others travelling to Goa, a lot of foreign exchange has been earned. However, the question remains, to what systemic use has this money been put to?

Foreign exchange earned without any proper vision for the intellectual and cultural development of the people of Goa, would hardly amount to anything in a world that is rapidly changing. For instance, the recent drop of the ruble against the dollar had caused a lot of anxiety in Goa. As an important aside, the uncertainties of the international markets can also be seen in the manner in which the collapse in the demand for iron ore from Goa, along with the irregularities rife in that sector, could make and break several families in a matter of a few months. Thus, one can clearly see that there is an urgent need to start thinking about Goa and its place in a larger world in a different manner.

Courtesy:
Memórias da India Portuguesa

A similar argument was made in 2013 by Constantino Xavier in one of his articles and it still seems relevant despite the two years that have lapsed since its publication. Xavier argues that Goa should essentially be a center to foster ties with other Portuguese-speaking countries in the world. Maintaining that Goa’s culture would provide a more congenial home for many of the students and scholars hailing from the Lusophone world, Xavier suggests for an establishment of an institutional set-up or a center for research and other scholarly works. Although Xavier made his arguments in the field of developing policy research, one can easily see that the argument can and should be extended to other areas of research in the humanities as well.

The importance of this suggestion can be seen in the fact that nearly nothing has been done to understand the connection with the Arab world despite the large number of Goans migrating there. For a start, very few works are available to understand the history of this migration. We have very little scholarship to understand the place of Goan labour in a larger world. How would detailed histories of Goan labour and work (or employment) in the Gulf contribute to our understanding of Goanness and Goan society? Arguably, a lot, since it would enable us to see how thousands of Goans were interacting (and still interact) in a globalized labour market. As a society, are we solely happy to see our men and women migrating to foreign shores and sending back remittances? Or would we like to see Goa emerge as a space that can employ its own gainfully?

Moving away from the concerns of diaspora and migration, there is also very little literature available to understand the major political movements that Goa has witnessed. For instance, how and why did mining emerge as an industry mid-twentieth century Goa? What were the causes and effects of the changes in land reforms, language agitation, the Ramponnkar’s movement, the Nylon 6,6 agitation, the agitations against megaprojects, and other issues? There are many Goan organizations across the world that are committed to the preservation of Goan identity and culture, but it must be pointed out that investing in a celebration of Goan culture and investing in a critical reflection of the same are largely two different things.

It must be mentioned that the project of exploring Goa’s many worlds and indeed forging new relationships in contemporary times, cannot be divorced from an exploration of the history, politics, and conflicts within Goan society. Thus, a concerted vision of long-term investment in the intellectual development of Goa, would do Goa and the Goan identity much good.

(First published in  O Heraldo, dt: 4 March, 2015)

READING REGINALD: INSIDE AFRICA

The last time I had written about the Konkani novelist Reginald Fernandes, I had suggested that to understand such writings as romans (and even tiatrs) we would have to think anew and look more closely into these writings. Accordingly, I had hinted that the way Reginald Fernandes understood and conceptualized ‘dignidad’ could be one of the many ways to understand the corpus of writings written in the Roman script. In response to my article, many felt (through social media) that Fernandes’ books should be put back in circulation. Though such an initiative would be welcome, this was not the point I was trying to make. Rather, what I wanted to do was to initiate critical discussion on the possibilities that are available in Fernandes’ writings.

To further explore this possibility, this column would like to look at Fernandes’ Khoddop Rannim (1955) which has Valentino Vaz as its main protagonist. The novel opens with Valentino’s mother on her death-bed, who tells him the importance of being humble, for humility would allow Valentino to succeed in life. Valentino’s mother worked as a randpinn or cook, whose husband, a seaman, was dead when Valentino was a mere infant. Thus, facing impending poverty and with no family support base in Goa, Valentino packs his bags for Africa. There he finds employment with a great Goan trader of ivory called Robin Saukar. It is here that Robin Saukar’s daughter Thelma and Valentino fall in love with each other. Valentino initially was uncomfortable as he was a mere servant of her father’s and according to him Thelma was placed higher as far as ‘dignidad’ was concerned. However, it is Thelma who insists that they should not believe in such things.

The twist in the novel occurs when, to procure ivory Robin Saukar takes Valentino and another employee Martin Monteiro, in the African jungle. Because Monteiro wants to make Robin Saukar’s wealth his own as well as marry Thelma, he deliberately misguides Valentino into the dense and dangerous jungle. Here, the element of magic as a device for the progression of the plot comes into play, both for good and bad. Monteiro chances upon a witch-doctor who gives him some magical fruits that would turn the hearts and minds of Robin Saukar and Thelma in his favour, when in fact the preferred person was Valentino. On the other hand while Valentino survives his ordeal, he also meets certain persons who direct him to a particular kingdom which is situated inside a huge rock, shaped like a human head. The astonishing fact of this kingdom is that its queen has lived for more than 2000 years, for she has access to “Jivitachem Udok” or the elixir of youth.

As it turns out, this queen or Khoddop Rannim owned a very large diamond that is lodged in the temple that belongs to her family. It was, apparently, the largest in the world. And because Valentino refuses the advances of the queen, who madly falls in love with him, he is made a prisoner. Valentino now has to escape this make-believe world, if he wants to maintain any hope of being united with his beloved Thelma.

What should also be discussed at length about this novel is the way Africa and blacks are represented in Khoddop Rannim. Africa was a part of the Goan diaspora and as such it was part of the Goan imagination as well. Fernandes is not the first or only person to write stories set in Africa. Indeed, many of the romi writers following the 1950s (or, perhaps even earlier) did train their literary lens on Africa. The scenes that are set in the dense and dangerous jungle of Africa would obviously involve the depiction of peoples living in the forest. The language or the collective nouns that are used to refer to these peoples would definitely qualify to be racist by our standards. The point that I am trying to make is not that Fernandes is consciously being racist, but for readers today, to be aware and be sensitive to this issue while ‘Reading Reginald’ (and also other writers who set their stories in Africa).

Though love between social un-equals is part of the story, however it is not a preoccupation of the author in this novel. Although the images of the African jungle that are displayed to us draw on colonial accounts of adventure and exploration that were definitely circulating during his time, the African jungle also becomes a site of struggle for achieving ‘dignidad’. Whatever Valentino achieves or manages to make his own, he can only do it by fighting for it. Though magic may have helped Valentino’s pursuits, yet his human capabilities and strengths seems to have sailed him through rough waters in this novel. But magic does play a vital part in keeping the reader engrossed in the novel.

As a setting, if Africa is given deeper reflection in novels or stories written in Konkani then it also points out to the complexities and diversity of interactions and influences that Goa had with the larger world. One could also profitably look at how the Portuguese colonial world – just before formal decolonization – featured in Konkani literary space. The fact that Africa had formed the setting of so many stories written in Konkani in the Roman script, suggests deeper connections not just of travel and migration but also of the movement of stories and colonial fantasies.

By keeping in mind certain vital components that went into the making of a Reginald romans, we now have some basic markers to understand the thought behind his novels, apart from enjoying them the way we do with any good novel.

For more of 'Reading Reginald' see here.

(First published in  O Heraldo, dt: 20 August, 2014)

UNTOLD GOAN MIGRATION STORIES

If one were to ask me about a history book that I had read, on Goa (or for that matter on any other subject) that was so interestingly well written, my answer, without batting an eye-lid, would be Selma Carvalho’s, Into the Diaspora Wilderness. I was expecting to find random biographical sketches of Goans who undertook long and arduous journeys to unknown and distant lands, but what I got was more than I had expected: a history book that I read like a thriller-novel!

Selma Carvalho has spent most of her life in the Diaspora and hence she is able to bring a personal touch to this volume on Goan migration to the African colonies (of the British primarily), the Gulf, Europe and America. Along with the numerous stories of persons of extra-ordinary courage that Selma deftly etches against the background of the history of the region concerned, she also weaves her own personal story with equal eloquence. By placing the seemingly insignificant history (of a Goan) against the history of a region, Selma might have very well ushered in a change in analyzing Goan history and the way we perceive it. This book tells us the stories of those men and women who were nearly forgotten by everyone, including history. The focal-point is the humble Goan who comes from an equally humble village.

In this book, Selma assesses the political climate and economic condition of each region in which her stories are based. The reader will surely be awed by the fact that many Goans had a major part to play (politically and economically) in each of these regions. Reading through the pages one finds that racism is also a major element. This is natural as Selma has intimately experienced being a ‘brown’ person in the Gulf, in America and in the UK. She has walked the precarious tightrope of racism. Selma has a rare gift of the sensitivity of a writer as well as the spirit-of-inquiry of a historian. No one has ever portrayed the pathos of the expats with such haunting and heart-wrenching detail.

This book has certain lines and passages that are sure to stay with anybody who reads them for a long, long time. Selma is at her literary best when narrating her own migration story. After living in the Gulf for twenty-eight odd years, she had to leave that place – a place to which, she never belonged. And when she felt homeless and lost, this is what she said, “I bowed my head to hide the tears. Would I ever be back? I didn’t know. With a thud on my passport, the young immigration officer stamped me out of the country, my place of abode for 28 odd years. I was a stranger just passing through.” Sure, all of us who have left our home and family behind and are based elsewhere can empathize with the predicament of Selma.

A new look and perspective is seen in the pages of this book regarding the much mocked as well as envied tarvotti (one who works on a ship) and the Gulfie (one who works in the Gulf). This book records the chronicles of such Goans likes the ayahs, butlers and cooks and people engaged in other odd jobs in distant lands, and trying to plug their experiences and contributions to the mainstream history. Though all these stories begin in Portuguese India, one is startled to find the extent to which the British colonizers have shaped them. The English-speaking and meat-eating Goan Catholic was so indispensable for the British administration, particularly in Africa. In fact, the Portuguese appear only fleetingly which goes in to underpin the much neglected and overlooked influence of the British in the Goan Diaspora. Most of the records that Selma has utilized to write this book are lodged in various libraries across England and this should come as no surprise in the light of the abovementioned facts.

The most surprising of stories in this book are the ones of Goans in Kenya. Pio Gama Pinto, very much politically active before and after the independence of Kenya, became that country’s first martyr. Needless to say, he was from a Goan extraction. Kenya’s second vice-president, Joseph Zuzarte Murumbi, belonged to a Goan-Maasai ancestry. His father hailed from Guirim, a village in Goa.

Selma’s voice and prose flows like music and she has the words to keep the reader hooked-on to the book. But when Selma moves to the UK with her husband and daughter, her story ends abruptly and the last few chapters seem to be loosely strung together. This book could have also done with a better cover rather than a collage of nautical maps which gives it an appearance of a geography text-book. But these complaints dwarf in front of the immensity and magnitude of the work put in by Selma.

In one of the chapter titled, The Exiled Intellectual, Selma talks about the Goans who having an intellectual bent of mind, sought success in other lands, yet who were always longing to come back home. This longing, Selma says, is advantageous as, “Goa at least will never be bankrupt for its artistic sons of the soil, whether in Goa or in the Diaspora, refuse to abandon her.” Comforting lines not only about sons but daughters as well (like you Selma) who refuse to abandon dear Goa. With her voice and intellect, Selma shouldn’t stop at just one book. Into the Diaspora Wilderness is a must-read!

(A version of this article appeared on Gomantak Times, dt: October 6, 2010)