Cecil Pinto WRITINGS

If by Caju Feni...

2011-08-12T22:48:00.001-07:00

If by Caju Feni...

Cecil Pinto has decided to stand for election to the Goa Vidhyan Sabha in 2012. Besides other things Cecil is a well known Caju Feni enthusiast. At a Press Conference announcing his candidature Cecil was asked whether he as in support of prohibition of alcohol, particularly Caju Feni.

This was his reply.

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My friends, I had not intended to discuss this controversial subject at this particular time. However, I want you to know that unlike Digambar Kamat I do not shun controversy. On the contrary, I will take a stand on any issue at any time, regardless of how fraught with controversy it might be. You have asked me how I feel about Caju Feni.
All right, here is how I feel about Caju Feni:

If when you say Caju Feni you mean the devil's brew, the poison scourge, the bloody monster, that defiles innocence, dethrones reason, destroys the home, creates misery and poverty, yea, literally takes the bread from the mouths of little children; if you mean the evil drink that topples the Goan man and woman from the pinnacle of righteous, gracious living into the bottomless pit of degradation, and despair, and shame and helplessness, and hopelessness, and makes him behave like a cheap tourist who does not know how to drink with grace, then certainly I am against it.

But, if when you say Caju Feni you mean the oil of conversation, the philosophic wine, the ale that is consumed when good fellows get together, that puts a song in their hearts and laughter on their lips, and the warm glow of contentment in their eyes; if you mean festive cheer; the chanting of mandos and dulpodds, a prelude to great dancing, dining and flirting, if you mean the stimulating drink that puts the spring in the old uncle's step on a rainy, monsoon morning and makes him an expert on all matters; if you mean the drink which enables a man to magnify his joy, and his happiness, and to forget, if only for a little while, life's great tragedies, and heartaches, and sorrows, and how his beloved Goa is being raped in a frenzied hurry by the mining firms aided by the ruling politicians; if you mean that drink, the sale of which pours into our treasuries untold crores of rupees, which are used to provide tender care for our little differently abled children, our blind, our deaf, our dumb, our pitiful aged and infirm; to build highways and hospitals and schools, then certainly I am for it.

This is my stand. I will not retreat from it. I will not compromise.

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With due apologies to Noah S. "Soggy" Sweat, Jr. who wrote the original http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/If-by-whiskey

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COLUMN: Learning to ride a motorcycle

2010-06-05T22:56:00.000-07:00

COLUMN: Learning to ride a motorcycle

Jun 5 2010

Learning to ride a motorcycleGears, two wheelers, and the Xavier’s slope

By Cecil Pinto

In 1982 I was in Std XI and of the correct age, sixteen, to learn riding a geared motorcycle. Up until this point the only motorized vehicle I had rode myself was a moped. Mo-ped, because in addition to a motor it had pedals to help in taking off and climbing steep slopes. Popular moped models in Goa were the Kinetic Luna and the TVS 50. I’m not quite sure if it was legal or not to ride mopeds without a license, but we did ride them a lot. A single visit to the city to fill up the tank would ensure days of hassle free riding in the village, where no traffic cops ever ventured.

Now here I was of proper dating age, also sixteen, at the St. Xavier’s College Annual Fete with an eye on this lovely creature from the Commerce section. The Science girls didn’t even look at us Arts guys. Well this pretty girl, let’s call her Angela, seemed to be reciprocating. In the sense she didn’t outright refuse my offer to drop her home to Gaunsavaddo.

Now that was one problem solved; getting a girl to agree to be reached home at night. The second much easier task was to now procure a motorcycle. There were no mopeds in Xavier’s college. You can’t climb that slope with a 50cc engine. Period.Very few of my friends had scooters or motorcycles but even they were aware that I didn’t know how to ride a geared bike. Well I had a plan. 1) I didn’t intend asking them 2) I didn’t intend starting the bike.

Here’s how it works. First I surveyed which bikes were not locked. Only two fulfilled that criteria. Olav’s Vijai Super scooter and Terence’s modified Yezdi motorcycle. The more macho Yezdi won. I wheeled the bike to near where Cruz’s canteen used to be and put it on its stand. No danger of Terence turning up as I had someone on the job of keeping him occupied at the Killing the Rat stall by giving him prizes even when he didn’t hit the table tennis ball.

Angela was waiting where I had told her to, but alas, she had a girlfriend in tow. Somewhere in the few minutes that elapsed she had rethought her willingness to be with me alone and had chickened out.

Story of my life!Anyway now I had to drop them both home to, fortunately, Gaunsavado. I got onto the bike. Angela hopped on behind me and her friend sat at the back - side saddle. The Yezdi had a pretty generous seat. Without starting the bike we took off down the slope gliding silently and swiftly. First the very steep section, then right past the Muslim Cemetery and the Mapusa Industrial Estate followed by a sharp right turn at the St. Mary’s Junction. All this using just gravity and brakes. The way Angela held me tight told me I was gaining lost ground.

A sharp left soon after El Capitan took us down the steep slope that straightens near Ribeiro’s Hospital and then curves past Cine Alankar.

Now this Z-turn was crucial. If I braked I would lose momentum. If I didn’t brake I might crash into the food stalls. Taking a very calculated risk and with much body angling to maintain balance I managed to go careening past the Z-turn rapidly without touching the brakes. The girls were screaming by now. Which was all very well. Angel was holding me very tight, but I didn’t know whether it was passion, or fear of death, or Fear of Flying!The momentum thus gained carried us right past the Remanco Hospital, the Asilo, the Cemetery and miraculously right up to the side entrance of St. Jerome’s Church. If you re-read that last sentence, and the sequence of landmarks, there is a philosophy of life, living and religion in there somewhere.

Allowing the bike to glide to a halt I first asked Angela’s friend, but not Angela who was still unnecessarily holding on for dear life, to get off while I made few feeble phony attempts at kick starting the bike.

Then, putting the bike on its stand, I made a big sham of trying to locate the problem and muttered something about a spark plug. Neither of the girls noticed that what I was actually examining at the time was the carburetor. But then considering they had not even noticed that there was no key in the ignition, I knew I was on solid grounds. Parking the bike at the side of the road I walked them both to Angela’s house a stone throw away. I then walked all the way back uphill to rejoin the College Fete. For many weeks Terence was unaware how his missing bike was found, totally unharmed and unused, near the church next morning.

A week later my good friend and classmate Olav offered to teach me to ride on his Vijay Super, a small but powerful scooter which was basically an Indian remake of the powerhouse Innocenti Lambretta GP150.

We started off on the straight road near the Xavier’s football ground.

Olav sat pillion and reaching past me from both sides eased the bike into 2nd gear and allowed me to just cruise along with just the accelerator to get the feel of the bike. I managed pretty well and soon we went down the gentler slope to the T-junction near the Muslim Cemetery – all in 2nd gear. Olav again reached over, maneuvered a U-turn and urged me to try going back to college, this time taking the steep slope. Midway up the slope the scooter started struggling. Olav was shouting in my ear, “Topan ghall!”, which is Konkani for “Put it in top gear!”I engaged the clutch and looked down at the markings. There was a 1st and a 3rd gear adjacent to the 2nd. Whish was Top? 1st or 3rd?Olav kept yelling, “Topan ghall! Topan ghall!” Assuming ‘top’ meant 1st, I was about to gently ease into that gear when suddenly the blue Xavier’s College Bus appeared over the crest. I panicked and let go off the clutch abruptly. The scooter shot forward like a powerful rocket with me hanging on to the handlebars. Olav was jettisoned backward off the bike onto the road and landed on his derriere on the tarmac. I think it was his ego that was more bruised. Neither the scooter nor me were harmed.

Olav didn’t speak to me for many months.

First published in Gomantak Times, Goa - April 8, 2010

Where are Goans headed?

2008-12-19T22:43:00.000-08:00

Where are Goans headed?
Directionless at the mukhar crossroads

By Cecil Pinto

Sossegado is a word that non-Goans will never truly comprehend or
appreciate. Simlarly there is a Konkani word 'mukhar', used largely in
South Goa, the nuances of which North Goans have difficulty in fully
fathoming.

Let me explain. My wife Beatrice runs a Goa-only flower delivery
service and I help out in confirming e-mail orders, and occasionally
even delivering flowers myself on busy days. Our clients are mostly
overseas Goans who are an eclectic lot as far as giving directions are
concerned.

Some of them are totally advanced and send a Google Map image which
makes locating an address so very easy. Some give a postal address
which isn't always a great help because other than the postman nobody
really knows House Numbers. Many people in Goa don't know their own
house numbers.

But the classic Goan direction is Ask Anyone. "Ask anyone for Filsu's
house". Let's pause and analyse the situation. Here I am in my
delivery van in Almeida Vaddo, Parra, looking out for the elusive
'anyone'. I pass a bus-stop where a few people are standing. All
migrant labourers. No point even pausing. I spot a young man walking
at the side of the road. He's not from the area, and yes, doesn't
speak Konkani or English. I stop at a bar where the barman directs me
to the local provision store which seems the right place to ask. I
learn there are three Filsu's in the vaddo of which two have sons in
Dubai. Ok, at least that narrows things down a bit. The point I am
trying to make is not everybody has heard of you or your family
members. Learn to accept that!

And by chance if Filsu's family is not on talking terms with the next
door neighbors then we've had it. The neighbours will steadfastly
refuse to acknowledge the existence of a Filsu, although every
instinct tells me that it is the house next door.

Of course us Goans being the way we are, after my departure there will
be a discussion at the bar whether or not it is true that Filsu's
eldest son migrated to Canada after selling off communidade property
illegally, and also whether or not it is true that the other Filsu's
youngest son has a Fillipino girlfriend.
"Martha Teacher's son-in-law told me".

Then there's the problem of vaddos within vaddos (and not waddas as
the non-Goans pronounce it). There's a Grande Coimavaddo and a Pequin
Coimavaddo in Aldona which are also called Sokoilo and Voilo
Coimavaddo respectively. With loaded words like this - loosely
transalated as big, small, upper and lower - there's bound to be
inter-vaddo rivalry and hence lack of proper directions.
Both these vaddos incidentally are saturated with Lobos and common
enough names like Anthony, Francis, Thomas and Mary. Try finding
Thomas Lobo, Coimavaddo, Aldona. "Ask anyone for Martha Teacher's
house!"

Near the … is another common address. Near the School, Near the
Church, Near the Market. I am standing here 'near' Holy Cross School
There are three clumps of six to seven houses each and one apartment
building, all equidistant from the school. Where do I begin? And a
kilometer back I had passed a large Government balwadi school. Was
that the one? Whatever happened to opposite, behind, in front of,
south of etc.

Of course some courteous clients do give phone numbers so that we can
call and ask for directions. This is a nominal advantage though.

"Hello ma'am, I'm calling on behalf of EXPRESSIONS. We have a flower
delivery for you. Can you give me directions to your house in Arpora?"

"Kitem?"

"Hanv Konkani uloum?"

"Naka! I am understanding English! You come straight…"

"Ma'am, don't you want to know where I am? Currently I am at the
Calangute Market T-junction."

"You come straight."

"Ma'am. I am facing a signboard saying Anand Restaurant, Meals is
Ready. If I come straight I will bang the board. I presume you mean I
should turn left."

"Yes. You come straight to Arpora Church and then ask anyone for…"
Of course we eventually find the place but a lot of petrol and phone
calls would have been saved with specific directions. And if you think
this is a Goan/Indian thing, think again. Foreigners particularly
can't differentiate between a Church and a Chapel. "Turn right at the
Sangloda Church", "But ma'am Sangolda does not have a church.", "Of
course it does!" And for sure they can't distinguish between a banyan
tree and a peepul tree. So much for landmarks.

The situation gets compounded when asking for directions in South Goa
where we have to deal with the omni-present, omni-directional 'mukhar'.

Basically speaking 'mukhar' means in front of, facing, or forward. But
depending on the context, and accompanying facial expression and
gestures, it could be construed as well - almost anywhere.

A prime example is in a public bus. A Salcete 'cleander' will tell the
standing passengers "Mukhar ye" and "Mukhar voch" (depending on the
hand indication only, will you understand which way to move in the
passage) while in North Goa the 'cleander' will say "Fudddem ye" or
"Fatim voch".

In North Goa we have specific words in Konkani for in front of,
before, under, over, after, behind, opposite, this side, that side etc
etc. Fuddlean, fatlean, samkara, ikdem, tikdem, ponnack, voilean.
Ask a South Goan for directions, "Hello! Where is St. Thomas Church?"
He will wave in the general direction of Constantinople and say
'Mukhar asa". Ask him, "And where is Baretto Garage?" He will reply
"Churchi mukhar" which when translated could variously mean - near the
Church, or behind the Church, or in the Church, or in the general
vicinity of the Church, or in the same Parish or in the same Taluka!
To add to all this we now have a large influx of non-Goans and
foreigners residing here. Imagine the consequences for direction
seekers. "Near the Kekdevelim Chapel ask anyone for the tall white
woman with the short Kashmiri husband and then go straight past the
peepul tree to the Keralite's STD booth from where you can phone
225…".

We Goans truly need some direction.

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The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 25th September 2008.

I heart Aparanta

2008-12-19T22:42:00.000-08:00

I heart Aparanta
Been there, bought the Goan T-shirt

By Cecil Pinto

Once again I met up with my entrepreneur friend Michael D'Costa who
insisted that I accompany him to his workshop and warehouse in Moira.
The signboard said - APARANTA T-SHIRTS. The slogan below read 'For
Goans, with love'

"You see Cecil I looked around and saw only two types of T-shirts.
One is the type sold to tourists, which basically says 'I love Goa'.
The other has the name of some sports team or maybe something cryptic
like 'Just do it' or 'Kerosene' or…

"Michael, surely you mean 'Diesel'?

"Whatever, my point being that why should we Goans be doing free
advertising for some alien brand or even celebrating somebody like Che
Guevara? We have our own Goan heroes and slogans and art and folklore.
Why don't we celebrate ourselves?"

By this time we were inside Michael's gigantic warehouse which had row
after row of racks with folded t-shirts. Through a glass partition we
could see the workshop where uniformed women were busy manually screen
printing T-shirts. Beyond that were closeted cubicles with lots of
energetic smart people huddled around computer screens.

"Basically", explained Michael, "all orders are received online
through our website. Our Chintop Department creates images and slogans
for our T-shirts."

"Wow! You have the silhouette of the Abbe Faria statue on these T-shirts!"

"Yes. That's our very popular Hip-No-Tic range, with kaleidoscopic
backgrounds. In the Amcho Munis range we have caricatures of T B
Cunha, Jack Sequeira, Bandodkar, Kosambi, Loyola, Gaitonde, De Mello
…"

"Don't you have any contemporary politicians featured on T-shirts?"

"Come Cecil, we celebrate greatness – not greed. But we do have a 'On
what grounds?' slogan printed on a backdrop of the Fatorda Stadium
with a church on a hill in the background."

Walking down another well stocked passage Micheal gestures, "Our
extensive Kala Sutra range of T-shirts has works by, and line drawing
of, Mario Miranda, Fonseca, Souza, Pai, Theodore Mesquita, Kambli,
Qureozito & Liesl, Rajan, Nirupa, Sonia, Chaitali, Morajkar, Antonio,
Usapkar, Yolanda, Subodh, Harshada, Viraj, Alexyz… just everyone who
matters in Goan art – even Vivek Menezes."

"In the Konn-Temporary range we have living legends like Mashelkar,
Oscar Rebello, Isabel Vas, Nandakumar, Tomazinho, Teotonio, Percival,
Wendell…"

"Who is this spectacled guy with a large beard checking his mail on a
Blackberry while riding his motorcycle?

"That's Frederick Noronha, the Che Guevara of the Goan Internet
generation. Speaking of which we have cryptic bi-lingual slogans for
the younger generation."

"Meaning?"

"Like take this one, 'Voir Tujem!' which translates as 'Up yours!'.
Only Goans get it. We also have 'Ton munshya, kitem ek jodd dekhavo!'
which is 'Hay man, what a heavy scene!' Here's the latest one, 'Tond
Pustok Fator!'"

"What?"

"Facebook rocks! Ha! Our E-Sport range celebrates Goans like Leander
Paes, Ivana Furtado, Brahmanand, Bruno etc. For some reason the
T-shirt with Climax Lawrence's name printed bold is very popular among
foreigners."

"Give me two, small size, of Ivana for my sons. Hope she inspires them
to greatness."

"And for you, Cecil? We have the Boroi-Now range featuring caricatures
of Maria Aurora, Margaret, Damodar Mauzo, Lambert, Uday Bhembre,
Victor Rangel, Pundalik Naik, Peter Nazareth…"

"Naaah! Those people write literature. I identify with entertainers.
Don't you have a tiatrists range?"

"Of course we do!", says Michael as he leads me down yet another
passage. "In fact one of our t-shirts has 'Hanv Goenkar' in the front
and 'Tu Konn?' at the back and is popular for all the wrong reasons.
It was actually from our Ti-Artiste range that celebrated popular
tiartists and tiatr lore. Another popular one had Prince Jacob's face
with 'Padre mia!' below it. Here's a selection which just has classic
tiatr posters printed on T-shirts. This particular one 'Cun Head' is
also very popular with foreigners for some reason. Look at this!"

I instantly fell in love with and bought the T-shirt with a line
drawing of Charlie Chaplin with my hero Jacinto Vaz's face
superimposed. Michel tells me that M Boyer, Chris Perry, Lata, Alfred
Rose, August Braganza, Roberto Alvares etc will feature in the
'entertainment' section which is still being developed.

"The T-shirts in this section have slogans that were initially printed
with overseas Goans in mind. Take this one for example. Imagine
walking down a busy street in Toronto with 'Paad Poddom!' on your
t-shirt. Only a fellow Goenkar would understand and acknowledge your
presence. Here we have 'Dukra, mhojea bhava', 'Dukni, mhoje bhoine',
'Kitem poitai, modem?'… We also printed some in Devnagri script hoping
to get some Government grants but nobody is buying those T-shirts."

"The funny thing is now Goans in Goa are buying these same T-shirts to
identify each other from the influx of non-Goans. Isn't it curious
that you will find migrant labourers wearing T-shirts saying 'Babush'
or 'Narvekar', and Goans wear T-shirts saying Dubai and USA?"

"Aha! This is my favorite section where we experiment with culture.
See this T-shirt with 'Kshatriya!' printed bold? It's a top seller.
Even Brahmins buy it. We tried printing 'Brahmin', 'Chardo', 'Kunbi',
'Bahujan Samaj'… nothing sold. But 'Kshatriya!' is flying off the
shelf!"

"Maybe because it has a macho militant feel to it?"

"Maybe. But most of the buyers are young females."

"Speaking of which, do you have sizing problems?"

"Since I am catering primarily to Goans, as an ethnic group, sizes are
pretty standard. Only I notice that the Goan females born and bred
abroad seem to have bigger breasts, or at least bigger bustlines"

"Maybe that is a sign of prosperity? Like a paunch for an Indian man?"

"Maybe. Here's another hit slogan. 'Tu Konnalo?' Top seller among
aristocratic Goans in Salcete. Other best selling slogans are 'I'm a
Bhatkar. This is a very old T-shirt', 'Patrao', 'As seen in tiatr' and
'I'm with ghoyo!'. The most popular back of T-shirt slogan is 'Stop
staring at my Feni!'.

"Speaking of which Micheal, how come you set up base in Moira?"

"Moira inspires me. In addition to the Charles Correa T-shirts we have
quite a few others specially designed for Moidekars by our resident
creative consultant Augusto Pinto. Here check, 'We put the Banana in
Republic', 'Length matters, choose Moira', 'Moidekars have the
biggest…', 'Moidekars don't suffer from insanity, they enjoy it!', and
this classic, 'We don't get mad; we are mad!'

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1) The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 9th October 2008.

2) If you wish to share your T-shirt ideas please write in to

Mamma Mia, here I go again

2008-12-19T22:41:00.001-08:00

Mamma Mia, here I go again
Politicians, activists and the language of song

By Cecil Pinto

"Bamboos, bamboos, bamboos!", sings Irene at one end of the stage
while at the other end Tomazinho translates into Roman Konkani,
"Maani, maani, maani!". With a crash of cymbals Prince Jacob emerges
from the smoke, mike in hand crooning, "Money, money, money. Must be
funny, in a rich man's world!". I'm hallucinating!

It's the sequence of events that did it. Monday is not my favourite
day of the week but going for the morning show of the movie "Mamma
Mia" did help me forget the hangover. A fun-filled romantic story
interspersed with popular ABBA songs. Sitting next to me was a lively
woman who seemed to know all the lyrics and was belting them out
enthusiastically. If she wasn't already my wife I would have asked her
to marry me!

'Try once more like you did before
Sing a new song, Chiquitita'

Well just four hours later I find myself in a packed auditorium
awaiting the commencement of a debate on whether Goans have really
become eco-sensitive or whether we are just anti-development. I found
a seat next to Public Relations professional Skitter Faia, who knows
everyone that matters, and everything there is to know about hair
straightening.

A lovely audience of concerned Goans complemented by a well chosen
panel of intelligent articulate Goans – Prof. Nandakumar, Fr.
Maverick, CM Kamat, Parrikar, Dr. Oscar and another 'undaised' panel
of Nitin Industry Kuncolienkar, Nilesh Builder Salkar, Subodh
Installation Kerkar, Ramesh Anti-Mine Gawas and Patricia Environment
Pinto.

'Where is the spring and the summer
That once was yours and mine?'

The moderator was Sandesh Prabhudesai - as always eloquent,
provocative, fair handed, firm and prudent. While they spent
absolutely ages adjusting the mikes it was but natural that my mind
wandered. To the morning's movie…and back to the present.

ABBA was famous for outlandish glitzy costumes. Nandakumar and Oscar
had on folded long sleeve shirts. Sandesh and Maverick were in ethnic
kurtas, while Parrikar had his trademark short sleeve shirt. Kamat was
looking uncomfortable with long shirt sleeves fully buttoned.

I couldn't see the 'undaised' panel, as they were sitting in the front
row with their back to the audience, but I noticed Nitin was wearing
his patented 1970 polyester styled fine checked suit jacket. Somebody
should give him and our CM, both wearing the same style spectacle
frames, a fashion makeover.

'People everywhere
A sense of expectation hanging in the air…
Voulez-vous (ah-ha)'

The language used in the mega-debate was an eclectic mix of Konkani,
English and propaganda. Sandesh loudly shouted a theatrical
introduction to each segment. This shouting must be a technical thing
to do with checking sound.

Parrikar said Goans have always been eco-sensitive and would make good
diary farmers and security guards. Maverick said locals wanted
participation in governance to improve the quality of their lives, and
not have misleading first-names. Oscar quoted, "The arrogance of the
rich will be met by a low intensity civil war in Turkey", or something
to that effect.

'Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war
Waterloo - promise to love you for ever more'

Nandakumar insisted that Government policy has to address the poorest
of the poor who had no e-mail address. Kamat said his Government was
open to consensus as long as it was top to bottom, and not bottom to
top as Oscar insisted.

'Knowing me, knowing you (ah-haa)
It's the best I can do'

In the second round of the debate the undaised panelists joined in.
Nitin claimed that an Agitation Industry has replaced the Agriculture
Industry, which everyone agreed had to be revived. Nilesh showed the
connection between housing and infrastructure, "If there were no
roads, why would we build houses?", or maybe he said that the
Government must provide roads for builders.

'Don't go sharing your devotion
Lay all your love on me'

Ramesh said, "Fail to prepare, prepare to fail – or join a student
union and ask for re-evaluation". Patricia said everyone was
rubbishing the garbage problem, as did Subodh, with a Biblical quote,
"Let he who throws plastic in the harvest cast the first stone."

'What about Livingstone?
What about Livingstone?'

Kamat said he threw out SEZ because it was all about land. Despite not
having a copy of the Regional Plan Parrikar said, and everyone
naturally agreed, that we should encourage industries that employed
Goans and froze the non-Goan population. Maverick refuted Subodh's
remark at the Church's involvement by saying that Goan Catholics had
agitated for Ramponkars, Konkani, Statehood and against Du Pont, Meta
Strips, mega–projects and the Konkan Railway.

'Just another town, another train
Nothing lost and nothing gained'

Conflicting statistics were used by all concerned, including an
audience member, to make their point. 800 engineers pass out every
year and 73% of them have to move out of state for jobs as there are
none here. Yet 56% of job vacancies here are filled by non-Goans. 60%
of Goa's rainfall is in Sanguem. Environmental damage from mining was
99% ignored in the discussion.

A suggestion was made that all luxury mega–projects should compulsory
have an affordable housing project side by side. This met with
uproarious agreement from the Goan audience, and will certainly
feature as a populist election promise soon. Speaking of which one
very vocal gentleman from the audience thought he was at a Panchayat
Gram Sabha and kept interrupting with slogans. Fortunately he was
ignored.

At one point Oscar asked CM Kamat for a public guarantee that he would
step down if Amendment 16 of RPG 21 was misused. Kamat instantly
agreed, "Yes, yes, I will step down!" His body language seemed to
suggest, "What am I doing here defending my corrupt colleagues when I
could make much more money in my building business?" Parrikar's body
language changed in the course of the debate, from merely confident to
commanding and dominative.

'I can't conceal it, don't you see, can't you feel it? Don't you too?
I do, I do, I do, I do, I do'

Watch the telecast at 7 pm on 2nd October. To Prudent Media and
Sandesh I say Thank you for the Music - and the lively debate.

'Darling, our love for Goa's much too strong to die,
We'll find a way to face a new tomorrow.
Hasta Manana till we meet again.
Hasta Manana until then!'

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The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 2nd October 2008
====

We shall overcome

2008-12-19T22:39:00.000-08:00

We shall overcome
Beyond T-shirts, celebrating real-life heroes

By Cecil Pinto

My friend Michael D'Costa continues showing me around his T-shirt
printing unit. We move from the warehouse section to the Chintop
Department where the creative ideas are generated, and designs drawn
up using sophisticated graphic software.

"After the Moira T-shirts became so popular we decided to have village
and town specific images and slogans. I have hired Alister Miranda and
Joel D'Souza to generate these. Let's see what we have here. 'In
Aldona they do it with chillies!' Hmmm. Rather risqué, Alister. Retain
the chillies but tone it down. What's this? 'Tuzoch Tambdo!' with a
fat chilly in the background. Well done Joel! Try 'Tuzoch Moto' also!
And speed up that foxy series for Saligao. Try and integrate some
watermelon graphics so we can sell it to the Parra people too. 'Thank
God it's Sunkrar!' for Mapusa. Nice! Put a cup measure holding some
baked grams in the background."

"Here's Anil Rodrigues, a man of many talents whose forte is bilingual
wordplay. What do you have for us Anil? 'Paicho Fath!' Brilliant!
Reduce the font size to very small and promote it to be worn under a
suit jacket. Aha! 'Akhano voir!' Cool! And that thumbs up graphic is
just the trick. Use a red, blue and white combination."

"Tell me Michael, how come you have ignored some major artistes in
your entertainment section?"

"Like who?"

"Well Remo and Lorna for example."

"Remo has his own line of branded T-shirts so we decided it would not
be ethical on our part. As for Lorna we have an entire section devoted
to her. Check this out. 'Bebdo', 'Pisso', 'Heaven in Your Eyes?', 'Why
you making fuss?"

"What?"

"Sorg Tujea Dolleanim and Kiteak Kortai Nokre!"

"Hold on Micheal. Kiteak Kortai Nokre was in the film Bhuyarantlo
Munis and definitely not sung by Lorna!"

"Oops! Anyway Cecil, we've also started this T-Ornato section
celebrating the new generation of Goans who are working for heritage
and environment with a passion. Look here we have Prajal Sakhardande,
Jason Fernandes, Clinton Vaz, Praveen Sabnis, Nirmal Kulkarni, Jolene
Menezes…"

"Well done Michael. These young people will keep the Goan flag flying high."

"Well Goa doesn't have a flag but we do have these series of T-shirts
with the Goa State Animal, the gaur, and the State Bird, the ruby
throated yellow bulbul. Unfortunately most Goans don't know that the
State Tree is the asna, or terminalia elliptica, and so T-shirts with
coconut trees are more popular."

"Here's where we experiment with basic background colours and patterns
for our T-shirts. We tried the classic kashti checks in red and white.
Total flop. As was this striped brown material we named 'bebinca'.
This yellow and black celebrating Goa's unique motorcycle pilots sells
well, as does the indigo blue associated with whitewash borders. Goan
red mud is also popular as a background colour. Surprisingly when we
printed 'Tambdi Matti' on them they did not sell. Wonder why?"

"Micheal, I'm Louvta Jomnir Hasun."

"Huh?"

"I'm Rolling on the Floor with Laughter. But let it be…"

"This commercial section translates popular slogans of famous brands.
Fortunato Pinto from Aldona heads this section. For example here we
have the swoosh logo and 'Beshtemch kor!'"

"Ok - Just do it! Let me see how many more I can identify. It's too
easy with the logo. Just read out each slogan to me."

"Dubav koslo naka, Haig zai mhaka"

"Don't be vague, ask for Haig?"

"Burkacho pippirmit!"

"The mint with the hole?"

"Borench pois ailaim, Bai!"

"You've Come a Long Way, Baby?"

"Shezariachem dukh, dhonyachem sukh'

"Neighbour's envy, owner's pride?"

"Bhuk laglya?"

"Hungry kya?"

"Aiz khuim vochia?"

"No I can't get that."

"Where do you want to go today? It's Microsoft's slogan."

"Oh! The old one."

"This piece here is targeted at the non-Goan settled in Goa who can
laugh at himself. It has 'Voilo' and 'Sokoilo' printed with one arrow
pointing up and another pointing down. Then here we have 'Fuloi!
Fuloi!', 'Sheboy!' etc. Just generic exclamations and..."

"Hold on Micheal. My phone is ringing. It's my wife, Beatrice. Hello?
Yes darling. Here, in Moira. Michael's showing me his T-shirt designs.
What am I doing regarding the attack on Aires and Prajal? What you
want me to do? We went for the candle light vigil in Taleigao no?
Isn't that enough? Sure! I will go for any meetings and morchas that
are organised. What more can I do? But? What you mean I'm not a man?
Sure I agree that Prajal and Aires are very brave men. Darpok? Did you
just call me a darpok? You watch it Bitu! Enough is enough. So? What
you want me to do? Make a noise? How? Ok! Ok! I will send out SMS
when I get home, and e-mails too. Now what? Write about it in my
column? Tell people to come at 4 p.m. at Azad Maidan for the 'We
Shall Overcome!' rally organised by concerned NGOs on 16th. Ok! I will
do just that. What? Show Aires and Prajal they are not alone. Sure!
Their pain was not in vain? Sure! They have our support? Sure! We are
not afraid. Sure! Anything else? Bring friends? Sure! Families?
Children? Are you sure Beatrice? Sure we will take our children, but
some people might not want to. Heroes? Sure Aires and Prajal are true
heroes. So? Mmmm? Yes, you have a point. True. Yes! We have to show
our children that we celebrate our heroes. That we stand by our
heroes. Yes indeed. Our children should know who are heroes, and who
are the cowards, and who are the crooks. Sure! What? Tell Michael to
what? Hold on I will ask him. Michael…"

"Hold on Cecil, I'm on the phone with my wife. Yes.Yes, dear. I
understand. What?! You want me to close my workshop half-day and tell
my employees to go to Panjim today for the rally? Are you out of your
mind sweetie? You know how much money I will lose in half a day's
production? Miser? Me? You are calling me a miser? Bamto? What? Take
the kids for the rally? Why on earth? Heroes? Sure, but they got
tuitions and music classes no? I know they won't die without one day
of tuitions and music but… Sure honey! Aha! Now that's a good
incentive. Oooohhh!! Yes, just the way I like it. Tonight? Oooh! I'm
excited already. Done! We're all going for the rally today! We shall
overcuuuuuuuuum! We shall overcuuuuuuuuuum!"

-----------
The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 16th October 2008
======

Name dropping for beginners

2008-12-19T22:38:00.000-08:00

Name dropping for beginners
In accepting this non-award I would like to mention…

By Cecil Pinto

This week marks three years of writing this column. Of course I did
take a three month break earlier this year, but then who's really
bothered. There was no drop in circulation, nor letters to the editor
insisting I come back. Bah! As I pass this milestone with no award,
or raise, in sight I might as well use this opportunity to introduce
you, dear dedicated readers, to my team.

"Team?", you ask. "What team? I thought you wrote this column alone."
Fat chance! Google, Wikipaedia and Answers.com can give you only that
amount of information. When you need specialized knowledge and
insightful opinions on call, specially when you don't have access to
the Net, you need to cultivate a team. That's exactly what I've done.
Here they are in no particular order.

Frankie Alvares, Aldona - "Remember in school we ate ice-cruts? What
did we call the white milky ones which were more expensive?" Isabel
Vas, Dona Paula - "Who said, 'I may not agree with you but will defend
your right to speak…' or something like that?" Apurva Kulkarni, Vasco
- "You know this illustration of an old woman's face which can also be
seen as a young woman looking away – who drew it?" Eric D'Souza,
Aldona, "How much was a Maruti 800 priced at when it was first
launched in the 1980s?"

Jose Lourenco, Margao, "Give me two more names of Goans of the caliber
of DD Kossambi and Charles Correa." Alisha Colaco, Dona Paula, "Is it
considered bad form to drop a 'friend' you have never met from
Facebook because she keeps inviting you to join weird groups?" Vinayak
Naik, Taleigao - "How many women MLAs has Goa had?" Alito Sequeira,
Dona Paula - "Would it be incorrect to say that what is happening at
Gram Sabhas is a sign of civil society breaking up?" Edwin D'Souza,
Aldona - "Other than Solan No.1 were there any IMFL single malt
whiskeys in the 1980s?"

Fatima Gracias, Altinho - "What was there before in the place where
the Mermaid Garden now is?" Joel D'Souza, Assagao - "What would be the
Konkani equivalent of village-idiot?" Alex Braganza, Panjim - "Did
Symphony and Sky ever jam up for a show?" Wendell Rodricks, Colvale -
"If colour from a new garment runs into another garment in the washing
machine, how come it doesn't run away from that other garment too?"
Alister Miranda, Siolim - "When was the Boat Festival re-introduced in
Siolim, and by who?"

Prajal Sankhwalkar, Caranzalem - "Were there Portuguese torture houses
in Sanquelim?" Gordon Lobo, Aldona - "What was Inspector Bahadur's
dogs name in the Indrajal Comics?" Agnelo De Sa, Panjim - "Are there
USB hubs available with their own power supply inbuilt?" Augusto
Pinto, Moira - "Into how many languages have Manoharrai Sardessai's
poems been translated?" Miguel Braganza, "Which tree most closely
resembles the banyan tree, and what is its exact botanical name?"
Edson Dias, Panjim - "Do you know anyone personally who makes a living
from Google AdWords only?"

Frederick Noronha, Saligao - "Is there a reason why there are so many
non-Goan editors for local English dailies?" Sachin Chatte, Porvorim -
"Is Gabbar Singh's father's name mentioned in Sholay?" Tony DeSa,
Moira - "Are there any compulsory hours of teaching that a school
principal has to put in?" Victor Rangel Ribeiro, "Does Goa really have
a Symphonic Orchestra, and how does it differ from a normal
orchestra?"

Frankie D'Cruz, Borda, "What's the best place in Margao for a mutton
biryani?" Gene Lobo, Aldona - "Any disadvantages in using cloning
software to transfer an operating system?" Vivek Menezes, Miramar -
"Is it true that the Cricket Club of India was co-founded by a Goan?"
John Raj, Aldona - "Does the wind at night blow from sea to land or
vice versa?" Willy Goes, Taleigao, "What is the thumb rule for depth
of field in relation to aperture and focal length?" Tony Fernandes,
Aldona - "What is the life expectancy of an RCC structure?"

Helene Menezes, Saligao - "What specific advantages does a co-ed
schooling system have?" Shelton Afonso, Caranzalem - "Other than Assis
who does lighting for major stage shows?" Skitter Fia, Vasco - "Who
are the major sponsors of the Sunburn Music Festival this year?"
Heston Sequeira, Aldona - "How much would it cost, and does it make
sense, to put in an auto-start system for a 1984 Enfield Bullet?

Rahul Srivastava, Ribandar - "Give me a male North Indian first name
with no caste connotations." Monica Mendes, Aldona - "What sort of
bank employees benefit the most from VRS offers?" Patricia Alvares,
Panjim - "How many kilometers from Amboli to Kholapur?" Sucheta
Potnis, Calangute - "Is it really cheaper to fly from Goa to Singapore
than to Delhi?" Noel D'Cruz, Margao - "Can a Person of Indian Origin
by marriage be the 'local' partner in a company owned by foreigners?"

Saba Sayed, Vasco - "During which years did Subodh Kerkar draw
cartoons regularly?" Sandesh Prabhudesai, Panjim - "What is the
percentage increase in Goa's migrant labour population since 1988?"
Savio Figueiredo, Aldona - "Do the Indian equivalents of Viagra have
the same chemical composition or are they based on ayurvedic
medicine?"

Sylvester D'Souza, Dona Paula - "Can an urban area marked of as
'green' in the ODP be privately owned by an individual – and walled
off?" Tomazinho Cardozo, Candolim - "Was there ever an audience
restricted adult Konkani tiatr?" Nandita de Souza, Porvorim, "Is
Aspergers a subset of Autism or a completely different disability?"

What you mean I'm running out of space. It's my 3rd Anniversary for
heaven's sake. Surely I can go beyond 1000 words? I've not finished
with my on-call team, after which I've got to start on my e-mail
consultants and my friends at Goa Writers and then…

Hello? No? Not even an extra 300 words? What a bloody spoilsport! Ok!
Ok! As they say in cheap speeches 'last but not least' I have to
mention my family. Fortunato Pinto, Aldona - "Daddy, what was the
church seating arrangement like for the Latin mass?" Lira Pinto,
Aldona - "Mummy, since which year have we been subscribing to Reader's
Digest?"

What? Already crossed 1000 words? Ok! Hold on! Beatrice Pinto, Miramar
- "Bitu darling, could you read this through and see who I can
eliminate?"

--------
The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 6th November 2008
====

Blood, sweat, tears - and celluloid

2008-12-19T22:37:00.001-08:00

Blood, sweat, tears - and celluloid
We are the movies we watched, and how

By Cecil Pinto

'We are what we read' is a phrase often enough bandied around to
ensure that young children read the correct books that will result in
proper character formation. In this day and age, when small kids read
precious little other than their school text books, it would be more
appropriate to say 'We are what we watch' - on television. For a
generation of Goans in Goa, like myself, whose early formative early
years were bereft of TV, it would be more appropriate to say 'We are
the movies we watched'.

Let's run through my movie watching experiences as a child, to
understand why I became such a warped adult.

The earliest memories I have of moving images are of religious movies
screened in the village square in Aldona. I'm not talking about
Biblical classics like 'The Ten Commandments' but rather mediocre
amateurishly made movies about the birth, life, death and resurrection
of Jesus Christ.

Quite frankly despite being a devoutly guilty Catholic as a child I
did find 'Mahabharata' and the Hindu Gods much more colourful and
fascinating. Their many hands, heads, animal-body forms and
supernatural powers were far more enticing than our charismatic, but
pacific, Jesus. Even a spectacular Moses-parting-the-seas couldn't
begin to match the bewilderment caused by Draupadi's never ending
saree, as Krishna made an utter fool of Dushasana.

Someday sociologists will maybe discover that a whole generation was
disillusioned with their religion just because the other side made
better movies. For a country that, every year, probably makes more
movies than the rest of the world combined, this is a study worth
pursuing.

These makeshift open-air auditoriums were also the venue for screening
of the few Konkani movies of that time, 'Nirmon' and 'Amchem
Noxim'
being particularly memorable. One song from 'Nirmon' was particularly
prophetic as a rainshower disrupted the screening at that very moment
the song started, 'Cloudier, cloudier…"

I studied upto Std 3 at the St. Thomas Girl High School, Aldona, which
used to allow boys in the primary section back then. Approximately
once every two months a Hindi movie would be screened in the school
hall. We younger kids had to watch from a couple of large padded mats
thrown on the floor just below the screen. We couldn't quite
understand the plot or the dialogue of the B/W Hindi films but would
cheer when the good guys (mostly led by Rajesh Khanna) beat up the bad
guys (characterized by a swarthy bald mean villain named Shetty), or
when the good guy's dog (usually named Moti) rushed to the rescue of
his master - or his girlfriend.

In between screen fights, to relieve ourselves of the tedium of the
intervening story-romance-songs, we boys would hammer each other up in
imitation of the onscreen fights. The large padded mats were conducive
to exaggerated jumping, falling and dramatic dying. Accompanying
mandatory fight sounds, of 'dishum' for punches and kicks and
"dishtyanv' for gunfight ricochets, had to be muted so as not to come
to the attention of the nun designated to keep watch over us.
Sometimes the abrupt silence of a reel change necessitated a
mid-action abandoning of a fight – especially if the lights were put
on during this break.

Although it was a co-ed situation us ruffian boys were sequestered
from the girls while watching movies, not so much because of the
intriguing possibilities in the dark, but because of our violent
tendencies.

Sir John Shadrak, the Physical Education teacher from the Boys School,
was the only person in the village qualified to run the projector and
handle the complicated and huge celluloid reels. He was much in demand
for these services.

I was the second born of three brothers. My Mom, with us three brats
in tow, and accompanied by assorted neighbours and relatives
occasionally made a Sunday trip to Mapusa to catch an English movie.
The choice was El Capitan, now an office building, and the currently
still existent Cine Alankar. As far as I know at that time theatres in
Goa were either suffixed with a 'Cine' (Cine National, Cine Lata, Cine
Vishant) or with an El (El Dorado, El Monte).

As a kid I have watched, amazed, as the 'Sound of Music' unfolded in
glorious colour. Everybody in the theatre fell in love with Julie
Andrews but my fascination was more for the song of the Lonely
Goatherd as he went 'Lay ee odl lay ee odl lay hee hoo!' We rafted
down the Mississippi River with Huckleberry Finn and Jim the slave.
Tevye the milkman and his delightful family kept us enchanted with
'tradition' in 'Fiddler on the Roof'. And we cheered for the
'Lady and
the Tramp' but mostly for Tramp!

There were two very good movies I distinctly remember seeing around
this time which for some odd reason are not considered classics today
and have virtually disappeared. One was 'The Champ' about an ex boxing
champ, his son and his ex-wife. The champ is making a difficult
comeback to give his boy a better future. At the risk of sounding
clichéd there was not a dry eye in the theatre at the tragic end of
the movie. We kids were sad for the next few days not understanding
why the champ, our hero, had to die.

The other memorable, but now forgotten, movie from my childhood was
'Melody' where the cute young Melody and her 'boyfriend' decide
to get
married immediately, despite being all of ten years old at most. It
was about finding true friendship, I think, but all us young boys just
wanted to marry the absolutely charming Melody!

In 1973 we were on a family holiday in Bangalore when we saw the then
just released and much acclaimed 'Bobby'. Two chubby teenagers from
different income groups pitted against a world that does not quite
understand that true love conquers all. The Rajdoot motorcycle
speeding, and the Goa connection, was what we kids found more
interesting.

Many years later when I worked for a short while as a tourist guide I
realized that the Goa-Bollywood connection was much stronger than I
thought. There I was, everyday, taking a busload of middle-class
Indian tourists on the popular North-Goa tour. Invariably I would be
pointing out the geographical and historical significance of the name
and the place, at lets say Dona Paula, when some boorish lout would
ask me, "Arre bhai saab, voh sab chod de! Ek Duje ke Liye ka shooting
kahan hua?" I would then be obliged to point out to a random spot on
the jetty and take a photo with his camera, of him and his wife, as
proof to show the people back home. Just as I returned to my well
studied and rehearsed narration of the legend of Dona Paula someone
would interrupt, "Bhai saab, Ram Balram ka shooting kahan hua?"

I-N-T-E-R-M-I-S-S-I-O-N

Speaking of 'Ram Balram' one of my earliest memories of a Bollywood
movie was 'Yaadon ki Baarat' which also had Dharmendra and introduced
us to the concept of brothers separated when young who grow up in
totally disparate circumstances and then re-unite while/after
defeating the bad guys. 'Amar Akbar Anthony' was the penultimate film
of that brothers-reuniting genre. It spoke of Hindu-Muslim-Catholic
unity among trying circumstances and unlikely coincidences, including
miraculous recovery of sight by a blind mother. Keep in mind that I
was the middle of three brothers and so returning from a
brothers-reunited movie would mean not only the traditional
re-enactments of fights at home but also singing of the theme song in
voices. I was automatically relegated to the Akbar position while
Conrad got the much coveted Anthony 'Amitabh' Gonsalves role.

From my earlier childhood though 'Haati mera Saathi' vaguely comes to
mind with Rajesh Khanna, a whole lot of animals, and a possessive
elephant named Ramoo. I also recall 'Seeta aur Geeta' with our Dream
Girl, Hema Malini, acting a double role which was absolutely confusing
to us kids.

Then in 1975 'Sholay' came along and eclipsed everything. Jai, Veeru,
Gabbar, Thakur Baldev, Basanti, Radha… all of these and the dialogues,
songs, relationships, situations and locales got under our skin and
formed a part of our collective consciousness as Indians. We kids
naturally were no different from the adults in being totally awestruck
by the greatest Hindi movie ever made.

Of course these were path breaking times. We saw 'Enter the Dragon'
which starred the legendary Bruce Lee in the first ever mainstream
Hollywood movie about martial arts. All of us young boys, and I
suppose men too of that era, suddenly wanted to learn karate and
become Bruce Lee. We bought books on martial arts and took courses
from absolutely incompetent self-certified instructors. We made
nan-chakus out of bamboo pieces and dog chains. We attempted breaking
bricks, wooden planks and thermacol packaging material with our bare
fists. All this as you can imagine was not entirely injury free –
except for the lightweight thermacol practitioners.

It used to be quite fascinating watching people coming out of a
theatre after watching 'Enter the Dragon'. Every male tried to
cultivate a slightly jaunty Lee-esque style gait, simultaneously alert
and relaxed, and looked around aggressively. A lot of fist fights did
occur outside of theatres due to this testosterone laden atmosphere.

Towards the late Seventies, approaching my teens, I teamed up with my
elder brother Charles to watch movies. Our target used to be Rs. 4/-.
We needed Rs. 2/- each. One rupee each for the to-and-fro bus ticket
to Mapusa. 95 paise each for the Lower Stall tickets. 5 paise each for
the peppermints - pronounced 'pipirmit'. Now naturally the question
arises - Why couldn't I go myself? Well I was a bit of a sissy then
and Charles was two years older than me and much tougher. The Lower
Stall booking counter at Cine Alankar is a cylindrical cemented
structure quite distant from the Upper Stall and Balcony counters. It
is populated by the dregs of society – alcoholics, whores and
toughies. Queuing was unheard of. Booking a ticket involved a mixture
of gymnastic aptitude as well as brute strength - and an ability to
bear dreadful body odours. Charles would manage the actual ticket
buying while I provided cover from backside attacks.

Tickets finally in hand after a lot of bruising, we would then find
seats in the unnumbered Lower Stall section which consisted of two
rows of seats just below the screen. A truly wide-screen experience
that involved a lot of horizontal and vertical neck action if one was
to catch all the movements. It was also the dirtiest filthiest section
of an already soiled theatre that smelled of sweat, urine and rat
droppings. But all was forgotten and forgiven as we watched Clint
Eastwood make our day, blowing away the bad guys with his .44 magnum
in 'Dirty Harry'.

This pain-in-the neck perspective at Cine Alankar is also from where I
saw an interesting science fiction movie named 'Rollerball' about a
violent inter-country sport involving athletic looking men on roller
skates hanging onto high speed motorbikes while chasing a metal ball
in a circular velodrome. This inspired me to bully friends into riding
their cycles on tarred roads while I tagged along on my roller skates.
It was quite hard on the cyclist and I lost a lot of friends - and at
least one pair of roller skates to the potholes on the Aldona-Mapusa
road. Charles and me did experiment with cycling to Mapusa, to save on
the bus fare, but the consequent risk of fatigue and punctures made us
soon abandon this route.

Somewhere in the mid-Seventies a Konkani movie 'Boglant' was released
to a starved Konkani movie audience. It was running at El Capitan and
our whole family went for it, especially because all the songs were
composed by our fellow Aldonkar - the prolific Alfred Rose. There was
a huge crowd outside the theatre and fortunately we had purchased
tickets in advance. I saw a slight commotion and pushed my way through
the crowd to find two well built men viciously beating a scrawny young
boy. One held him by his hair while another had twisted his arm at an
odd angle at the back. He was screaming in pain as they kept on
punching and kicking him. Nobody moved a finger to stop them. Seeing
that I was visibly agitated, and upset at this injustice, my father
called me aside and explained that the young boy had been selling
tickets in the 'black' and had been caught by the police.

I protested that the punishment was far too cruel for what was
basically an act of desperation - and entrepreneurship. Nobody else
seemed to see it that way. I decided two things then and there (1) I
would never sell tickets in the black-market (2) I would never become
a policeman.

In the next mega installment, about how cinema influenced my life,
allow me to walk you through the movies, and movie watching
experiences, of my teenage years and young adulthood. Observe how the
focus gradually shifted from Luke Skywalker's laser light saber in
'Star Wars' to Zeenat Aman's cleavage in 'Qurbani'.

-----------
The Two Part column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 20th and
21st November 2008
Feedback welcome at
======

Anecdotes from a Film Festival

2008-12-19T22:35:00.000-08:00

Anecdotes from a Film Festival
Fighting the forces of darkness – with Delegate Cards

By Cecil Pinto

My friend, movie critic Ervell E Menezes, recently wrote that the IFFI
campus should establish itself as "an oasis of movie buffs; a floating
population that eats, drinks, talks and regurgitates films like
zombies and that is, as it should be - 10 days of total film bliss!"
How very true. I unapologetically admit to being one of those zombies,
now recovering from three to four movies a day since the 23rd of November.

Of course some of the movies were brilliant and some absolute turkeys.
But despite everything at nearly midnight on the 2nd of December,
following the screening of the last movie Song of the Sparrows - from
Iran, the mood was despondent. The Film Festival was over and we
zombies would meet again only a year from now for another film feeding
frenzy.

Through the course of my young adulthood I used to go to Margao maybe
just once or twice in a year. While on these rare visits I noticed
that the Margao people seemed more attractive than those of Panjim or
Mapusa, towns I used to frequent. The girls prettier, the women
sexier, the men smarter, the vendors more colourful - what have you.
At one time I had reason to spend two weeks in Margao. At the end of
the two weeks I found the people less fascinating. Was it due to some
unfortunate encounters? Not at all.

I have a theory. Quite simply I feel that when one spends many days in
a particular place the mind unconsciously registers all the faces at
some subliminal level over a period of time. Even the faces of
hundreds of people in passing who you have not actually closely
encountered. They then become familiar faces in your unconscious - and
hence no longer fascinating.

After spending ten days relatively cloistered at a Film Festival, in
and out of dark auditoriums with a floating population of strangers, a
much closer bonding occurs. You are unconsciously part of a sort of
temporary community of a few thousands who share a common love for
movies. You have occupied the same physical spaces. The seat I occupy
on Day 10 has been previously and recently occupied by at least 30 odd
other people over the past few days. All delegates, and hence my
unconscious friends!

The fantastic movie 'Blindness' was in a class apart. The theme about
how unrelated humans, cloistered in a group with a common enemy and
circumstances, rewrite the rules of society is also explored quite
differently in 'Famly Rules'. To an extent all of us 3000 odd
dedicated delegates, the rest are just there to be seen, have gone
through a similar transition.

And when I say odd people and delegates I mean odd.

This one spectacled thirty-something woman was wearing a sleeveless
cotton nightie over blue denim jeans. I kid you not. And these two
decent ladies from Guwahati condemned the group rape scene in
'Blindness' but were ok with the gratuitous and excessive sex in
'Cumbia Connection'.

Speaking of which a story doing the rounds is that a young man had
this relatively harmless fat Swiss multi-blade penknife in his pocket.
Fearing he might be caught at the security check-point he slipped it
into his underpants. The security guard patting him down found a
rather abnormal protuberance in his groin. The young man explained in
Hindi, "I've just come from Cumbia Connection. What did you expect?"
He was let through with a knowing smile.

One elderly Goan Portuguese speaking woman had made 'gussao-ing' in
queues into an art form. She would pick up a conversation with just
anyone standing at the front of the line and manage to shove herself
in the queue without anyone complaining or even noticing. Another
woman, constantly wearing sports sneakers, used to converse loudly on
her mobile, in the silent theatre before the movie started, forcing
all of us to listen to the mundane details of her pedestrian
existence. Fortunately someone complained and the management piped in
sufficiently neutralizing music for subsequent screenings.

Cellphone behavior itself, in theatres, could make for a series of
columns. Some people have the most inappropriate and jarring ring
tones. But those at least can be overlooked if they are shut off fast
enough. It is the indignant 'shut-uppers' who cause even more of a
disturbance. 'PLEASE SHUT OFF THAT BLOODY CELLPHONE", a loud British
accented voice will boom from one end of the auditorium, antagonizing
the whole audience, 96% of who had not even heard the initial ring
tone that attracted that disproportionate response.

And what is it about women, mostly, that they can have an SMS text
conversation throughout a film? Why can't they just walk out the
theatre, go the whole hog and talk to their friend? Agreed SMS texting
is not as irritating as someone who speaks on a cellphone while a
movie is going on. but a bright LCD glowing a few feet away from you
can be quite difficult to ignore in a darkened theatre.

Seating at the Kala Academy is the worst. It is an auditorium designed
for stage performances and not film screenings and hence the gradient
of the rows is much too gradual. Let one tall person in front move his
head slightly and a zig-zag effect extends to four or five rows back.
Of course the Kala Academy's auditorium being so vast, sleepers can
choose unoccupied areas for a snooze. Which I have no problem with,
but what irritates me are the folks who sleep in the seat next to me
and then start snoring.

Why come for a movie if you're going to snore right through it? Go and
sleep somewhere else. Actually I don't have a problem with the light
and rhythmic snorers. The human mind accommodates and can soon filter
away the regular snores. It's the loud and un-rhythmic snorers who
cause irritation. One well endowed woman was always carrying a huge
bag that appeared designed for sleeping. Half way into the movie you
could look in her direction and see that she had used the gigantic bag
as a pillow cum sleeping bag and was fast asleep. Fortunately she did
not snore, but did open her mouth extremely wide when asleep.

Whereas from a movie viewer's point of view the back seats at the Inox
theatre would seem more desirable, half way through the festival
delegates starting avoiding them because of slight odours. Many
theories are doing the rounds to explain this (1) Since these seats
are much in demand they have a higher turnover and hence more human
residual odour is natural (2) These prime seats are reserved for Press
and Special Delegates who can watch more movies than normal delegates.
Naturally they try to use this advantage to see maximum number of
films. The running between theatre to theatre, with no time to freshen
up, causes them and consequentially the seats to smell more (3) Hot
air rises, hence smelly air will naturally move upwards in the
direction of the higher seats.

As expected the only Konkani movie at the festival, Rajendra Talak's
'Savariyaa.com' was house-full well in advance. Apparently tickets for
the movie had been given to hundreds of non-delegate friends and
relatives of the producers. The queue for the movie at Kala Academy
interestingly was formed on the red carpet instead of snaking in the
direction of the Art Gallery like usual. There were security concerns
as the many silk sarees in contact with the carpet were causing static
electricity sparks.

One delegate, a rather short chap, had this 'kit bag' from which an
astonishing array of items would appear before the movie started. One
small and one big mineral water bottle which both he would plunk into
his and the neighbour's armrest glass holders. Then would emerge his
Film Guide, Film Schedule, pen, anti-acid tablets, mobile, tickets and
what not. Following this started a running discussion over the phone
with his friend about what movies to watch in the next few days.
Fortunately he shuts up when the movie starts, and removes his bottle
from my armrest glass holder when asked.

I of course meet my good friend, movie reviewer Sachin Chatte, every
day for his recommendations on what to watch and what not to.

Then there are the folks who laugh too loud. Which by itself is
tolerable, but rather irritating when the laughter is at the wrong
time or not in keeping with the mood and moment in the film. Maybe
these folks are a subset of the sleepers, and are laughing in their
dreams at some incident which has no connection with the movie the
rest of us are watching.

While we are discussing reactions I must say that sexual content
evokes the most and strongest reactions from both ends of the
spectrum. I was present for the repeat showing of 'Cumbia Connection'
at Kala Academy. More shocking than the blatant sex on the screen,
with accompanying frenzied music, were the reactions from the
audience. While many 'decent' people walked out in disgust, many
others were struck immobile and pretended they didn't see what they
just saw. Many males arrived in groups, slightly drunk, and all in
anticipation of the sex scenes they had heard about. Their loud bawdy
remarks could be quite unnerving to a single female sitting nearby.

On the other hand I wonder if I am being prudish in my criticism of
their remarks. They are after all reacting to what they see on screen.
Some scenes may evoke laughter, some tears and well some, bawdy
remarks! Who is to decide where a line has been crossed in a response?
Are we delegates taking ourselves and the Film Festival too seriously?

There was this delightful pair of sexy European women dressed in tight
fitting semi-opaque sheaths that masqueraded as dresses. From all
externally visible appearance their undergarments had been lost in
transit at the airport. Somebody told me they were lesbians. I think
he labeled them thus because they didn't return his smile!

There are three types of quitters, those who walk out halfway through
a movie, because (1) it does not meet their expectations or (2) they
have foolishly booked their next movie for a time before the current
one ends or (3) because they feel the need for urination as the Air
Conditioning is too cold.

I always do justice to a movie by waiting till the end, however bad it
may be. The only movie I desperately wanted to walk out from was
'Autistic Disco' because it was going nowhere but then I was seated
next to the young German director, who I had previously conversed
with, and it would be rather impolite.

There are also the dumbfounding Film Festival moments that everyone
encounters. You will be discussing with a fellow delegate about how
great a movie was, for example 'Lust Caution', and another delegate
will walk up and make a blatant statement like "Lust Caution sucked
and dragged on forever!" Or a movie you considered an absolute turkey
is the toast of the town. While many people were angry with 'Cumbia
Connection' nobody was angry with Ang Lee! Ha! Just had to get that
horrible pun out of my head!

At the end of the festival though, one feels quite sad. Not just that
the great movies have ended but also that your fellow zombies will go
back to being absolute strangers. The sleepers and snorers, the
queuers and quitters, the talkers and laughers – all of them, the
floating population that made up your community for a while, are gone.
We shall congregate again in a year to fight the forces of darkness –
with light and shadows. And Delegate Passes!

--------
The column above appeared in two parts on 4th and 5th Dec 2008 in Gomantak Times.
====

Customary first haircuts

2008-12-19T22:33:00.000-08:00

Customary first haircuts
Bad hair days like no other

By Cecil Pinto

Many cultures place a lot of significance on a child's first haircut, treating it as a sort of rite of passage. Some Native American Indians commemorate it with a ritualistic song and dance. The Goan Catholic tradition actually is not vastly dissimilar.

A determined young mother, an embarrassed looking father, and the child enter the barber shop where they are subjected to collective frowns from the barbers, all from Andhra Pradesh, and the clients. While awaiting his turn the child will appear perfectly calm, and in fact be quite amused by the multiple reflections in the parallel mirrors and by the mist spraying bottle.

The designated barber, normally the shortest, places a small padded platform on the chair and the child will sit down there and start displaying signs of wariness as a large white cloth is wrapped around his neck.

(1) Only one barber I know, opposite Café Bhonsle in Panjim, has a small independent child chair shaped like a small pony (pronounced 'horsie ghodda'). Why can't more barbers have such chairs? (2) A reasonably tall stool placed in the middle of the room makes much more sense, giving the barber and parents room to maneuver, specially since the child is not interested in watching, his hair being cut, in the mirror and is only interested in escaping (3) Is it unethical to use total anesthesia on a child for his first haircut? (4) Surely there's scope for haircutting shops specially designed for very young children. Is any entrepreneur listening?
The father looks around in advance offering unspoken apologies to the other barbers, clients and even bypassers. After all he has to return here someday while his wife has no such compulsion. The barber approaches and at the first snip of the scissors the child breaks out into a wail that could crack crystal glass at a hundred paces. What follows is an entertaining tableau worthy of Mario Miranda's keen pen.

The father tries to establish authority, rather inadequately, by holding the child's hands down. The mother is trying to keep the child's head steady with a firm grip on his jaw and scalp. She also says, "Don't worry baba. Nothing will happen. Uncle good. Baba good. Mama give chocolate, ok? Baba nice!" and such gibberish. The barber tries to weave in and out between these parents and get a jab at the child while trying to rein in his impulse to cut the shrieking, spitting child's ear off!

At this point some of the other clients waiting their turn, unable to bear the commotion, will discard their outdated and well worn Stardust or Men's Health magazine and go off for a drink to return later. The already seated clients have no escape and have to bear the ordeal as they hear their individual barbers getting nervous. They just pray for a steady hand – for their respective barber. And for a good view through the mirrors at what has now become a spectator sport.

The father has decided that next time around he's going to borrow a small straightjacket to keep the child immobile. The mother by now is alternating between singing lullabies and making threats of 'Budda-man will come!' to try and quiet down the child. The child starts crying even louder because more frightening than the Budda-man is the appearance and disappearance of the short barber as he darts between the bodies of his parents.

All semblance of decorum is now lost. The father and mother both blame each other for the fiasco and will be at loggerheads for days after this incident. The mother is cooing 'Almost finish baba, almost finish!' to the child who can clearly see in the mirror that the
haircut is far from finished. The short barber by now fancies himself a sort of struggling midget matador. He keeps yelping in Telegu and all the other barbers give him advice, which can be quite unnerving for the paranoid Goan father who does not know Telegu and wonders if they are encouraging Shorty to cop a feel from the Mrs., who is well positioned and in such a state of frenzy, for such activity to go unnoticed.

After a lot of weaving, ducking, jabbing, pleading and wailing the job is finally done with baby hair covering all participants. If this isn't a 'song and dance' to rival the Native American Indians then what is?

Considering the strain on the marital harmony that the first haircut causes a lock of hair is sometimes preserved and taken home, not so much as a souvenir but as proof of paternity, through DNA testing, in case the situation leads to a separation.

Following our first such traumatic experience for a few months Beatrice tried to cut Desmond's hair while he was sleeping but even the slightest trim would take many weeks and loads of patience and nocturnal disturbance. When groggy, the sight in a dimly lit bedroom, of one's wife approaching stealthily with a pair of scissors in hand can be misconstrued. Remember John Bobbit?

I came home from work one day to find Beatrice being very coy and extra nice to me. Walking past her I stopped shell shocked to see Desmond's hair resembling a war zone. Under the clumps and patches he was smiling, quite unaware of his appearance. Beatrice explained, while serving me my favourite masala tea with only milk and no water, that she had attempted giving him a proper haircut, not trim, with the kitchen scissors bereft of comb. We rushed him to the local barber who told us disdainfully that there was precious little he could do to salvage the situation and that Desmond would have to go under the 'machine' for a total tonsuring.

Seeing how easily head shaving could be done using the 'machine' I procured a cheap China-made set of electric clippers and a few months later proceeded to experiment on, who else but, Desmond. His hair had grown quite a lot since the last tonsuring and he now more resembled a hedgehog than Humpty Dumpty. I thought with deft use of the smallest blades of the clipper set I could give him a slight trim.

Anything to avoid the trauma of another barber shop visit. Beatrice had gone out shopping. Well I must have got carried away and, to put it politely, the results were lopsided. It was me who had to make masala tea with only milk and sheepishly open the door for Beatrice. Off we trooped again to the barber who, as expected, made some smart remarks in Telegu to his colleagues.

----------
The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 11th December 2008.

Park-ing in and around Panjim

2008-08-04T04:38:00.000-07:00

Park-ing in and around Panjim

Even innocent people don't want the police comingBy Cecil Pinto Most weekday evenings my paternal duties consist of taking my two young brats for a ride to one of their favourite 'spots', all within a three kilometer radius of our Miramar residence. During this time their mother gets quality time at home to herself to listen to FM radio, catch up on her TV serials, and clean up the apartment. Just to clarify.

The main purpose of Beatrice cleaning up the apartment is so that the maid who comes every morning to clean up does not think we are a totally messy family, which in actuality we are. It is important to create a good impression on maids else (a) they will leave, or worse still, (b) they will tell the neighbours what a messy uncivilized family we are. So every evening around six o'clock I set out on my Yamaha with Fabian perched on the motorcycle tank and Desmond sitting pillion, and talking to me non-stop. His absurd questions, opinions and assumptions would bewilder and appall the most hardened anthropologist. But we will leave those musings for another day.

The closest 'spot' is the riverside near the Sports Authority swimming pools in Campal; a lovely place to watch a spectacular sunset. But more often than not the magic of the moment is shattered by one of those stupid noisy cruise boats passing by, blasting Bollywood music at volumes that would waken the dead. I hear that a big time cruise boat owner damaged his hearing during an
underwater salvage operation. The deafeningly loud volumes are for his benefit.

Another favourite spot is Kala Academy. Usually there's some art or book exhibition to keep me engrossed while the boys enjoy screaming, while mindlessly running up and down the steeply inclined passage to the outdoor auditorium. The lawns are off limit but the mini-outdoor auditorium also provides nice spaces for fun. A

nd of course the picturesque wooden jetty, built before the 2006 IFFI for two crore rupees but never used except for film shoots, also makes for lovely sunset viewing. "Dada why we can't walk on the jetty? Why is this sign saying - NO ENTRY?" "They are afraid that tourists might come here and commit suicide by jumping in the river." "But Dada they can jump from the bridge, or Dona Paula jetty, or the promp, promin…""Promenade. I know Desmond. There are a million places better places in Goa where tourists can jump into the river for a guaranteed death instead of the shallow water here." "So then why Dada? Why do they stop us from walking on the wooden jetty?" "You want to know the truth? Top Secret?" "Yes. Yes!" "You know what are xinnanio? The fried mussels your mama made yesterday?""Yes!" "Well xinnanio attach themselves to rocks and anything solid in the low tide area. They are particularly fond of metal poles like the ones that hold up this jetty. There is a man named Deshprabhu who climbs down the poles every night, harvests the xinnaneo, and shares them with another guy named Rane. Between them they make sure that the jetty is closed to the public so nobody can else can harvest and eat the xinanneo." "I see. Selfish greedy fellows, no Dada?""Yes!" Another 'spot' is the Church of Immaculate Conception. From up there you can have a crow's eye view of Panjim traffic. The boys of course enjoy screaming and mindlessly racing each other up and down the steps. Once the spotlights come on after sundown, one can also make nice huge shadow puppets on the walls of the church.

The Children's Park in Campal used to be a top favourite but now attracts a very ill-mannered touristy crowd. The Joggers' Park at Altinho is uncrowded but has no playground equipment. The once bustling Municipal Garden is in a state of being repaired for so many years now that probably my grandchildren might enjoy it someday. The beachside park in Caranzalem, often referred to as Babush's Park, has a splendid colourful Multi Play installation that incorporates slides, swings, see saws, climbers, spiral scramblers and a whole lot of such stuff that the kids enjoy.

Every evening it's populated by noisy mirthful kids having a grand time. The parents and guardians either walk on the jogging track, send SMS to their friends, screech at their kids to be careful, or do all of the above Regardless of the political and legal controversies surrounding it, Babush's Park is a hot favourite with any kid who has visited it, and a nice place to meet interesting people from all social classes. Carry Odomos for protection.

The other day at this park, seated alone a few meters from me, was this mother of a cute little girl who was throwing sand on my Fabian. I never interfere in kids' fights unless they get really lethal. But the mother was of a different mentality. Keralite I think."Priya, you stowp throwing seind rait now!""Mummee he first kicking for me…!""If you naut stowping rait now police will come!" I grabbed the opportunity to take some proactive steps in salvaging the reputation of our corrupt and inefficient police force from 'outsider' attacks. "Hello!", I said, "It's ok. The kids will resolve their own problems. Why are you giving your impressionable young daughter a negative stereotype of a policeman as an undesirable person? Children then grow up with such negative concepts and are uncooperative with the police. Crimes that could have been kept in check escalate and witnesses don't come forth..." I paused mid-sentence as the look she gave me was of one who has just encountered an alien being from Mars."Priya", she screamed in panic, "chalo beti we goes home!" as she practically ran away from me to grab her daughter and disappear.

So much for trying to change mindsets. Was she being a bad mother? Was this a clash of cultural values? Was I being a bad father for not insisting everyone on the motorbike wear helmets? Is it unethical to complain about noisy cruise boats and allow your kids to scream at Kala Academy? Who does the jetty really belong to? Can you build a permanent structure like a park within 200 meters of the high tide line? How come other families manage to retain maids for so many years? Does anyone really ever want the police to come?

-----The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 27th March 2008 =====

The measure of a man

2008-08-04T04:37:00.001-07:00

The measure of a man
Still my 'causo' of Caju Feni overflows

By Cecil Pinto

Extracts from Chapter 12 of the bestselling book, "Elixir of the Gods: The definitive guide to purchasing, storage and consumption of Caju Feni", by Cecil Pinto.

"In the last chapter we saw the difference and relationship between'alcohol by volume', 'alcoholic proof' (using a standard Sykes hydrometer) and the traditional grao used to measure the strength of Caju Feni. Keep in mind also that grao measures strength and not purity or quality. In this chapter we shall look at retail and wholesale volume measures for this fascinating liquid."

"Long before 'What is the Goan Identity?' became the dominant debate in recent years, there was the far more important question that fascinated Goan males since 1622 or thereabouts when Caju Feni was first commercially marketed, 'How many bottles are there in a causo of feni?'.
That query continues to fascinate us and till date has no specific answer. Keep in mind that what is called a causo by North-Goan Catholics is called kollso by a Goan Hindus and causo-u by South Goans - who make good Palm Feni but know diddlysquat about caju."

"Ask this question to any bar man and pat will come the reply, '18 bottles of 750 ml each' but ask an astute barman, like Edwin D'Souza of Bar Manuel in Aldona, and he will reveal that the actual figure is closer to 20 bottles. How it works is that the supplier, normally the kazkar (distiller) himself, carries a standard measure causo that
contains approximately 20 bottles of Caju Feni. The additional two bottles are to compensate for losses in transportation due to spillage, pilferage, tasting etc. Similar to a Baker's Dozen – as branded Caju Feni czar Mac Vaz would certainly say."

"All that is very well. From a commercial viewpoint we need standard measures but this book was written for the non-commercial minded enthusiast. Every Caju Feni drinker worth his half-quarter will have his own personal stock of a few causos, of his very own favourite feni from his trusted kazkar, in his storeroom. Unless of course his wife
is a nagging shrew, in which case he will store his stock at the storeroom of a friendly relative – preferably a non-drinker."

"Now this personal cache is not the standard commercially produced stock that most barmen purchase. This is usually an excellent, and hence expensive, reservoir. But here comes the quandary. Ask most any feni enthusiast, who stocks his own booze at home, how many bottles in a causo and you will get a range of replies, from 15 to 25 bottles!
All of them have the same trusted supplier for many years, and are happy with the quality and the quantity. And, here comes the stunner, all of them are absolutely right in their measure of a causo!"
"How is that possible? – is the question that comes to the mind of any non-feni drinker. The feni drinker himself is not perturbed. Such minor matters do not bother him. He is wiser than the average man and is also at peace with himself and the universe. Even at Rs. 1000/- a causo, and even if he gets only 15 bottles to the causo, he is still paying only Rs. 67/- for a bottle of the Nectar of the Gods, whereas even a regular non-premium whiskey will cost more than Rs. 100/- a bottle, even wholesale, and is nothing short of rot gut. If you see anyone in Goa drinking a whiskey costing less than Rs. 250/- a bottle please understand that (a) he knows nothing about booze and (b) he probably also has a damaged alimentary canal."

"To understand the inconsistency in causo measures let us take a step back and re-visit the earlier photo-enhanced Chapter #5 where Siolkars Alister Miranda and Nilesh Vaigankar (son of late Dina - the legendary kazkar) walked us through the actual Caju Feni making process. Approximately 14 kousuli (totaling approximately 90 litres) of fermented caju neera is poured into the bhann. This bhann (copper, or rarely earthen) which contains the liquid to be heated has a pretty standard size. Vapours get distilled in either a coil process or in an earthen pipe and container process, depending on which we get either standard Caju Feni or 'launecho caju' which is the Holy Grail for any Caju Feni enthusiast - and is almost impossible to source nowadays.
Please excuse my foaming (feno!) at the mouth when I speak of launecho caju."

"Now, as explained earlier the first distillation gets us a light urrack. Re-distillation of this with more neera gives us cazulo, and re-distillation again gives us Caju Feni. The grao for these three are 12, 18 and 22 approximately whereas the volumes of each are in inverse proportion – i.e. one bhann will produce 24, 18 and 15 bottles approximately of Urrack, Cazulo and Caju respectively. Viola!"

"Therefore a non-commercial causo is not an exact measure of volume but rather, say this loudly and memorise it, 'that amount which is distilled from one full bhann'. Depending on the grao of the resulting distillate the volume will vary. All other factors being equal lesser the volume of liquid in the causo, stronger the grao."

"Keep in mind though the factors that decide this grao. Besides the material used for the bhann a crucial component is the nature of the fire used to heat the liquid neera into vapour. It has to be a low wooden fire kept at a particular consistency throughout till the ubb (shimmering) appears. The fire is then totally extinguished and re-lit
to get a particular grao. Making the fire stronger will hasten the process but also lessen the grao - and hence increase the causo volume measure."

"In the next chapter we will move from measures of quantity and discuss factors effecting quality - such as ripeness of cashew apples, juice extracting process etc. but before we get there let's look at popular retail consumption measures. Conventional wisdom tells us that a half-quarter should be 90 ml, or one and a half peg, but in
actuality this is not so. Hark back to the days when Caju Feni was served in a coconut shell or cotti. Over a period of time…"

--------------
The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 10th April 2008.
=======

GULF-GOANS e-NEWSLETTER (Since 1994)
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/gulf-goans/

Three little pigs

2008-08-04T04:36:00.001-07:00

Three little pigs
Contemporary Goan Fairy Tales

By Cecil Pinto

Once upon a time there lived on a farm a widow pig named Solloga, who
technically was a sow but was in a ward reserved for women and hence
fancied herself a pig. Solloga had three piglets named Dukullo, Dukona
and Barranv.

Dukullo, the youngest, liked to play in the mud and listen to Konkani
pop songs on FM radio. Throughout the day you could see him pigging
out in the mud with his headphones on, while simultaneously forwarding
witty SMS to his friends.

Dukona, the sister pig, was quite the hog and could eat and drink any
and every thing – and did. She was into Bollywood movies and music and
often heard voices in her head. Every evening as she drunkenly
approached the poured swill she could hear it singing to her, "Main
hoon donn, main hoon donn!"

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!", on the other hand was Barranv's refrain. He was
the shrewdest little pig. When not taking matka bets Barranv was busy
devising Multi Level Marketing scams and also sending pigs to the Gulf
– without telling them that no pork is allowed there.

Solloga tried to bring up her three little pigs to be ethical. "Build
good character. Build strong houses", was her constant refrain. But
they just ignored her. In her own words it was like, "Throwing pearls
to swine!". "Stop being such a boar Mom", the three little pigs would
say to her.

One day while returning from the market Solloga said to her piglets.
"You have grown up and are now too big for our little house. It's
beginning to resemble a pigsty. Who's going to build their own houses
now?" The three pigs were happy to leave and shouted "We, we, we!",
all the way home.

As could be expected Dukullo built himself a mud house but did not
follow the sound technical expertise given by Eng. Jose Lourenco from
Velim. Dukona built herself a house of cabbages, with a cowdung floor,
and got it registered as an NGO for Garbage Management and made quite
a decent living on the subsidies and was in fact able to afford a huge
liquid plasma screen to watch Bollywood Song and Dance Competitions
all day.

Barranv forged papers and bribed a talathi to show he was a tenant, on
Form I and XIV, of a derelict 'Portuguese style' house, whose owners
were abroad for many generations and as could be expected were
clueless. He then indulged in 'acts of ownership' like painting the
house and doing up the compound wall. When nobody objected Barranv
just occupied the house and signed an affidavit saying he was in
possession of the house for many years. He then proceeded to refurbish
the old house.

In the backyard of the house Barranv built some of those horribly
pretentious un-Goan cottages, with exposed laterite walls and domed
RCC roofs, and sold them to retired Brits for huge sums through
taxi-driver-cum-brokers. Barranv did not laugh all the way to the
piggy bank, but rather invested his excess funds in real estate – and
not Mutual Funds.

One day a hungry jackal named Kolo, who loved to eat Goan sausages,
decided to taste pork directly. His theme song was "I'm too foxy for
my wolf!" Kolo chanced upon Dukullo's mud house and shouted, "Little
pig, little pig, let me come in." To which Dukullo answered, "No, no!
Not by the hair of my chiny chin chin." Kolo rightly figured Dukollo
hadn't heard right as his headphones were still on. So he bellowed,
"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in." And he
did. The house collapsed and Dukullo went limping for protection to
his sister and her cabbage house.

Kolo approached Dukona's house and asked to be let in. "No, no! Not by
the hair of my chiny chin chin", said the obese and drunk Dukona. Kolo
discarded his normal response and shouted, "Use Fair & Lovely for
heaven's sake. It will bleach your facial hair and improve your skin
pigmentation!" Dukona didn't get the pun and shouted out, "How come
you're not offering to blow me and my house?" Since the TV was on full
blast Kolo didn't hear that and just blew the house down. Drunken
Dukona carried Dukullo piggyback as they ran to take refuge in
Barranv's huge estate.

When Kolo approached Barranv's residence the security guard, at what
was by now a gated complex, asked him to fill up a form - which
stumped Kolo as he was illiterate. But Barranv, who was just returning
in his Mercedes from some meetings at the Secretariat, welcomed Kolo
into his house. He appointed Kolo as his liaison agent for Government
offices and then proceeded to combine all three pigs properties and
start work on building and marketing a huge residential/holiday
complex with 60 bungalows and 220 luxury apartments (with swimming
pool, gymnasium, security, lifetime maintenance and rent-back
facilities) named 'Dukorville'.

When some neighbours protested the hill-cutting and other
environmentally destructive actions he convinced them by giving them
jobs as supervisors, pool attendants and security guards. They were
happy. The others he offered a fat brokerage and commissions, to get
him buyers for his properties. They were happy. The few who still
continued to protest he ignored as by now he had bribed the local
panch, the sarpanch and the local MLA to ensure inaction.

Continuing in this pig-headed manner he purchased prime property from
the corrupt and inept village Communidade and started work on Three
Pigs Resort which was marketed as a resort solely for foreigners and
other non-Goan pigs.

When we last caught up with them… Dukona had had 34 cosmetic surgeries
but was still unattractive – and a drunk. Dukullo was producing
Konkani pop-song VCDs. Kolo had finally stopped fantasizing about
eating Dukona, or any pig for that matter, and stuck to chouris-panv
and sorpatel. He had his eye on the Chairmanship of a Government
Corporation. Barranv was financing the re-election attempts of six
MLAs.

Konkani proverb: Dukran kedna kondd sodunk na.
(While some pigs just wallow, others succeed by being shallow).

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The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 17th April 2008.
=====

GULF-GOANS e-NEWSLETTER (Since 1994)
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/gulf-goans/

A linguistic approach to un-Goans

2008-08-04T04:34:00.002-07:00

A linguistic approach to un-Goans
New nomenclature to reflect modern migratory patterns

By Cecil Pinto

Dr. Oscar Rebello's bombastic statements during the NDTV, We The People, episode have drawn much flack. The TV feature examining the issues surrounding the ghastly Scarlett Keeling death, often veered of into the non-Goan v/s Goan debate that is an inevitable part of any conversation in or about Goa.

"Hello Sachin? Let's meet up in Panjim for an omlette panv."

"Sure Cecil. Near Cine National?"

"Why not walk along the promenade and enjoy the Mandovi river?"

"Are you crazy? The stink is unbearable. All these labourers crap at
the riverside. Bloody non-Goans!"

"But Sachin…"

"And do you know that along the riverfront, right from Ribandar through Panjim and Miramar to Dona Paula there's not a single cart selling omlette-panv? You can get varieties of bhel puri, chaat, panv bhaji, gola, paani puris, ragda pattis and what have you - but not a single Goan omlette-panv. Bloody non-Goans!"

"But Sachin I'm not quite sure that omlette-panv is uniquely Goan."

"And Cecil how can you have a pleasant walk along the riverfront with those bloody tourist cruise boats blasting Bollywood music so loud?
Bloody non-Goans!"

"But Sachin the boat owners and operators are all Goans."

"Oh!"

Anyway first let's clarify exactly what Oscar said on TV. I had watched the original episode but can't remember his exact words. So let me do what any sincere self-respecting investigative journalist would do under such circumstances - put words in other people's mouths. Just kidding. I read a recent article by Oscar, clarifying his
views on the non-Goan issue, and just worked from there backwards to deduce what he originally said on TV. For those of you in the Dark Ages, Dr. Oscar Rebello heads the Goa Bachao Abhiyan which generated a mass movement that exposed a dastardly Regional Plan that was poised
to totally destroy Goa. Or something like that. Let me clarify that, like most Goans, I have no reason to doubt Oscar's sincerity or integrity.

Barkha: "And the Oscar goes to Mike. Oops! The mike goes to Oscar!"

Oscar: "I will fight with the very last drop of my blood. We will save Goa with sweat, blood, tears and flamboyant sound bites. We will fight them on the roads and on the hills. And if they are widening the roads and cutting the hills for a project we will fight them in the new cement drains!"

Barkha: "Actually Oscar we were talking about the Scarlett death."

Oscar: "Exactly what I was saying. We are poised at the death of democracy which is etched in the deepest interval of my pulmonary aorta. There are no non-Goans. My aunt is not a Goan but..."

Barkha: "So there are Goan aunties and aunty-Goans?"

Oscar: "And the green eyed monster killed my great grandmother who came from blue blooded Portuguese stock without any…"

Barkha: "Without what? Bina kya?"

Oscar: "Without any Goan blood! As Goan as a lamani."

Barkha: "Bina Ramani!"

Oscar: "Whatever. Take Rajan Narayan…"

Barkha: "No sorry! You take Rajan, we don't want him!"

Oscar: "We are not like crabs in a basket."

Barkha: "More like fish in a tin?"

Oscar: "Sort of…"

Barkha: "So Sudeep Chakravarti is a Goan?"

Oscar: "Hanh?"

Which raises many interesting questions. Who is a Goan? Whose aunty is a Goan? Who is anti-Goan? Is Oscar qualified to confer Goanity on anyone? What is Goanity? Is it transferable? Is it encashable? Does it get one discounts at supermarkets? Are we mixing ethnicity with residence and loyalty? Is Loyal-T a cool name for a chain of branded chai shops that also serve omlette-panv? Most importantly, did any of
these non ethnic Goans ask to be referred to as Goans?

This I think is the crucial question. I have a few non-Goan friends who have lived here for many years but have never asked to be labeled as Goans. Why should they? If I lived for thirty years in Maharashtra would I want to be called a Maharashtrian? No way! I will always be a proud Goan and detest being labeled anything else! So what makes us think that the Maharashtrians and the Bongs and the Sindhis are waiting to be labeled Goans? Aren't they proud of their own culture?
Of course they are. They stick to their language and culture and lifestyle and aren't in any hurry to imbibe ours. They are not Goans.
If you want to be polite call them 'un-Goan', but for Goa's sake don't ever call them Goan.

On the other hand I see Oscar's reason for being inclusive. There are so many non-Goans who have done so much for Goa that we need to recognize and appreciate it and Goanise them to some extent – if they so desire of course. Perhaps a new nomenclature to reflect changing times and migratory patterns?

My suggestion is that we use the prefix of the state of origin and stick on a 'goan-esque' suffix to get a new description of ethnicity-residence. That will give us Karnagoans, Tamigoans, Uttar Pragoans, Bihagoans, Maharagoans - and of course Bengalis resident here become Bongoans! There isn't much of a problem coining these new words.

The problem arises when native Goans living overseas have to coin words that reflect their ethnicity-residence. Gonadians (Canada), Gomericans (USA), Goatish/Goats (UK), Gortuguese (Portugal), Guwaitis (Kuwait), Gostralians (Down Under), Gongladeshis (Bangladesh), Gormans (Germany), Gosraelis (Holy Land), Gopalese (Nepal), Gokistanis
(Pakistan) and Goruvians (Peru) are pretty straightforward. But are there really Goans in Peru? Where is Peru anyway?

Respected historian and linguist Teotonio D'Souza has been approached to head the committee to decide the exact rules of how these new words are to be coined. For example a Goan in Sri Lanka should be known as a Goalankan or a Goleynese? Goans in China are Goanese or Goenchins? Or is that a restaurant in Panjim? Goans in Burma are Goarmese or Gonyanmarites? Are Goans in Denmark Gonish, and Goans in Saudi Arabia
Gaudis?

Once all that is in place we can attack the next problem - people of other nationalities permanently resident in Goa. We have to put in place a nomenclature for the Brits, Germans, Israelis, Russians, Portuguese, Tibetans and others living here. We will do it using linguistics. The tongue can reach where the sword cannot.

--------
The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 24th April 2008.
====

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Grave matters: Done to death

2008-08-04T04:34:00.001-07:00

Grave matters: Done to death
A guide to dealing with more than just grief

By Cecil Pinto

Recently the father of a friend of mine expired. My wife Beatrice and I dropped in for a pre-funeral condolence visit. The situation in the house was quite hectic with people dropping in to condole and to help.
We said the obligatory prayer near the corpse resting in the coffin in the hall. Next step is to wish close relatives. I was looking around for my friends' mother.

Beatrice, who does not know the family well, quite by instinct, went up to a woman sobbing bitterly near the coffin and hugged and sat next to her sympathetically with an air of extreme empathy, as would be expected. I on the other hand was, within the confines of the sober environment, trying to signal to Beatrice to come away immediately.
The woman she was mistaking for my friend's mother was actually a distant neighbour, Filsu Aunty, whose grief stricken countenance was a permanent feature and had nothing to do with the immediate death. It was an embarrassing moment for Beatrice as awareness dawned - but knowing neighbours and relatives did not snigger and just kept a straight face. This was a common occurrence.

Some three years back John D'Silva in one of his tiatrs, I forget the name, had this brilliant comedy skit. The local village newsmonger enters a house and announces to the housewife that so-and-so has died and hands over to her what appears to be an invitation in an envelope. On being questioned as to its contents he explains that all details of the death and funeral were there in the printed announcement. It was
like a FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) section on a website, and had all the answers. How did he die? What time? Where? Who was with him?
What date and time is the funeral? Will the elder son from Kuwait be coming? And the daughter from Toronto? Will there be a bus from his native village? Etc etc.

At that time I thought to myself that it was nice idea and would soon be the done thing at Goan deaths. It has not yet happened but I am sure it eventually will, what with everyone now having computers and printers. In fact there are so many innovations that can be undertaken to make the whole death-funeral process a bit more organised and
'professional' as it were.

For example, similar to weddings we could have 'family flowers' that identify close family members so nobody makes embarrassing mistakes, like Beatrice did, by wishing someone not even distantly connected to the deceased. Miniature artificial wreaths maybe that family members could pin up on their clothing? We could take a step further with little name tags that not only identify the person but also establish his relationship with the deceased. Eg: "Fatima Lobo: Wife's eldest sister" or "Brandon Gonsalves: Son of second daughter Kathryn".

At any funeral you will see mourners siding up to one close neighbour, who with an air of authority will tell you all you wanted to know about the deceased and those present.

"Who is that woman with the short dark blue skirt with a slit?"

"That's Kathryn the second daughter. She's a divorcee and works in Mumbai."

"And that old man with the suit. He doesn't look Goan."

"That's Mr. Nayak, who used to be the manager at the bank where he worked."

"And why is the eldest daughter and her family keeping in the background?"

"Ever since she joined the Believers the family has sort of written her off and…"

Most of these semi-truths would be clarified with the advent of printed Death FAQs, Family Flowers and Name Tags.

Also how come nobody has a Handy Goan Death Guide similar to the half-dozen Goan Wedding Guides currently available? These guides have detailed chapters on how to prepare for your wedding, how to organize the reception and also a directory of wedding related service providers.

How does this sound? "Aiz Mhaka Falea Tuka" from Here Today Gone Tomorrow Enterprises. A handy guide for Goan Catholics on Announcement & Arrangements related to death (with a sub-section for Goan Hindus – "Urn While You Burn"). I hope some enterprising publishers and undertakers are reading this column.

Suggested chapters: Registering the Death, Catering without Celebrating, Newspaper Advertisement Conventions, Riding the Obituary Wave, Illustrated Coffin Layouts for Standard Living Rooms, Seating Protocol, Wishing Protocol, Transportation, D-Day Checklist, Lowering Standards for Graves, Post Funeral Conventions and Non-Alcoholic Alternatives etc.

A Customization Section could offer suggestions of themes, colours, music, flowers etc for a personalized effect.

Trivia sections could deal with mundane matters like the ethics of what can be put in the coffin to keep with the deceased wishes, Is there a protocol of priority for coffin pallbearers? Who carries Offertory items to the altar? Who delivers the eulogy?

Pros and cons could be presented by Subject Experts: Cremation v/s Burial, Formalin or Morgue, Why waste a good suit and shoes? Is it right to deny condolence visits? Requesting mourners to give donation to a favourite charity instead of bringing/sending floral tributes, Organ donation issues etc.

Post-funeral procedures could advice on whether it is really necessary to thank all doctors, priests and minor politicians by name in the Acknowledgement Advertisement. Procedures surrounding the Month's Mind Mass, Annual Anniversary Mass and Niche Marketing. Illustrated suggestions for designs on the marble slab covering the niche could also be one section - with a choice of lettering, typefaces, photo borders etc.

How does one reconcile the bank accounts, insurance policies, loans and email addresses of the deceased in the absence of a will? Is pre-payment for one's own funeral acceptable?

I'm not very familiar with Goan Hindu procedures regarding death but I'm sure there is a lot to be discussed regarding Scattering of Ashes, 12th Day Procedures, Eldest Son's Obligations, To Shave or Not, etc, etc.

Keep in mind that a man, or woman, in today's comparative and competitive world is remembered not only by how he lived his life, but also by the quantum and quality of mourners at his funeral.

Here is an example of how uninformed Goans are about matters regarding death.
In a recent instance an undertaker approached the family of the deceased and asked them, "Would you like a package?" They looked at each other nonplussed and then one member told him, "Actually we would prefer a coffin!"

---------------
The column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 1st May 2008.
========

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Teaching Konkani - The Baga Beach

2008-03-23T04:26:00.001-07:00

Cecil & Beatrice Pinto explore Goa with, and teach Konkani to, a young couple from the Isle of Wight in UK - Andrew and Justine.

Beatrice: How nice to be going to Baga beach. I'm coming here after nearly ten years.

Justine: Is that so? We were here yesterday and on Monday and on…

Cecil: You are tourists. You come for the sun and the sand. We have a different relationship with the beach or vell. It is more than just recreational.

Beatrice: Yes. Our elderly people used to come here to the beach, veller, and have saltwater baths every morning. To bathe is nhavpak. It was supposed to be a cure for arthritis, rheumatism and similar diseases. They would not have a fresh water bath for the entire duration of their stay here. They would park themselves in a rented room nearby…

Cecil: Talking of parking, our picnic spot seems to be invaded by parked cars. There's no place to sit. Bospak na zago! Bos is sit and zago is place.

Beatrice: My goodness! This is shocking. This area in front of Hotel Baia do Sol has always been a picnic spot for us locals. A nice airy shady area with a direct view of the sea, doria. Now the view is blocked by these huge shacks and we have to face their toilets, or kapus!

Andrew: What's the problem? Let's just sit in a shack and enjoy the vell.

Cecil: Goroz shi na! There is no need! I don't want to sit in these shacks. Their prices and attitudes are directed towards the big-spending tourists, specially the Europeans. I have carried my own snacks and refreshments. Why can't I have a clean convenient picnic area like before? Why is everything targeted at tourists? Don't we, locals and taxpayers, matter anymore?

Beatrice: Keep the politics for another day. Let's go to St. Anthony's. Is that ok with you?

Cecil: Ok! At least I know those guys cater for the locals and we won't be surrounded by arrogant overweight Brits. And we can see the sand, renv, and the sea, doria, from where we sit at our table, mez, on our chairs, kodeli.

Andrew: Let's take a walk on Baga beach first, if you don't mind.

Cecil: Sure. I remember foreigners, bhaile as we called them then, roaming completely naked, nagdde, on this beach when I was very young. Now the term bhaile applies to Indian migrant labourers. Actually bhailo just means outsider with bhair being out. Technically speaking we are still in Calangute as Baga actually is the other side of the creek. The ugly bridge, pul, connecting is so despised that you will see people, lok, risking their lives crossing the creek through the water, udok, rather than go through to that monstrosity. The hillock, dongor, you see across separates this beach stretch from the Anjuna stretch.

Justine: Aha! So nice to see miles of lovely beach right up till Sinquerim.

Beatrice: What beach? What I can see are miles of beach-beds? When did this happen? Ten years back there were a few beach-beds outside every shack. Now they stretch in multiple tiers endlessly. I'm reminded of the lines from Wordsworth's Daffodils, “Continuous as the stars that shine, And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretch'd in never-ending line, Along the margin of a bay:, Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.”

Cecil: I'm reminded of what came next, “A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company!”. What daffodils? See those pansies there hugging each other in the water. In our time the beach was full of sexy naked women. Now we see gays, “fluttering and dancing in the breeze!”

Justine: You got something against gays?

Cecil: Naaah! Just that I prefer naked women!

Beatrice: Stop behaving like a pervert, pozdo.

Cecil: Aha! Today, aiz, I'm a pozdo. Yesterday, kal, I was a baizuan, lecher. Just my ponvot, bad luck, I presume to be gifted with an eye, dollo, to appreciate the female body, kudd. Wonder what I will be called tomorrow, faleam, and day after, porvam.

Andrew: I thought you said kudd was a sort of residential club each village had in Mumbai?

Beatrice: Yes that too. Spelt the same way. Speaking of kudd let's run through some body parts quickly. Head is tokli, forehead is kopol, nose is nak, ear is kan, eye is dollo, lips are vontt, chin is khaddki, cheeks are pole, neck is man, shoulder is khand, hand is hath, finger is bott, stomach is pott, back is fatt, chest is xati, legs are paim, toe is akhonno. Have I missed anything?

Cecil: Sure! Buttocks are kule, thighs are zangllam, breasts are mome, the entire male genital region is called… Whaaaaa! Did you see that?

Andrew: What?

Cecil: See that huge woman swimming there. Just one of her kule could feed a family for a month!

Justine: That wasn't a very nice thing to say.

Cecil: I was just kidding. What does physical appearance matter? As long as one has one's heart, kaliz, and soul, otmo, in the right place.

(GOENCHO ULO)
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Corporation, Chaka Chak & Chicken

2008-03-23T04:22:00.000-07:00

Corporation, Chaka Chak & Chicken
Confidence building measures to commence in Panjim
By Cecil Pinto

I don't know what it is about the bird flu that seems to bring out
the humour in us. When the tsunami struck, or some earthquake, or
similar, there was always a sense of shock and expressions of
concern and sympathy. But the bird flu scare elicits nothing of
that sort. I have already received seventeen SMS alerts that the
bird flu strikes 'small cocks' first. Some even more amusing bird
flu related SMS' use rather mature language and cannot be quoted.
Newspapers are having a field day with headlines, "Foul play
suspected", "Chicken and egg situation" etc. Quite frankly nobody's
scared by the bird flu - but nobody's eating chicken either.
Restaurants and hotels had stocked up tons of chicken in
anticipation of the Carnival tourists. Wholesalers and
retailers too are stuck with freezers full of un-saleable product.
Experts from their respective field all reassure us that it's
perfectly ok to eat properly cooked chicken. But they themselves,
none of them, are actually eating chicken. While I'm on that will
someone explain to me why they use the grandiose term 'poultry
products' when what they want to say is eggs! Even the smallest
poultry farmer and deep-freezer owner has a sign saying "Chicken &
Poultry Products". Other than the eggs what other poultry products
are there? Why waste two words (four syllables) when the simple
monosyllabic 'eggs' would suffice? Anyway, my opinion is that
this 'bird flu' disease (not 'pandemic' as the press likes to call
it) has been blown totally out of proportion. Specially here in
Goa, I don't think there is any reason not to eat properly cooked
chicken. But as stray false reports and rumours are churning around
the poultry industry is going through a severe economic depression
from which it will take many years to recover.

The hotel and restaurant industry too is suffering a major blow.
I suggest they join together and make some creative moves to inspire
confidence in the public. Convey to the Goan public and the tourists
that there's absolutely no danger in eating chicken.
The simplest method of course would be to rope in some trusted
celebrities and design some impact-ful advertisements.
But this too isn't a fail-safe plan. So what if Amitabh Bachchan says,
"I can eat chicken and so can you"?

The natural reaction from the public would be "Sure, and in case
you fall sick you can afford Nanavati Hospital. I can't!". Also the
suspicion will be that the chicken Amitabh is shown eating in the
advertisement was probably imported from Switzerland, went through
multiple checks and was then cooked using complex technology
unavailable to the common man.

What we need is credible normal people eating chicken on the street.
Elections to the Corporation of the City of Panjim (CCP) are fast
approaching. Battle lines have been drawn. What is the biggest
question facing each candidate? "Should I appeal to the people's
civic sense or shall I promise them the works?" No! "Should I make
the garbage issue the main plank of my campaign or shall I focus on
the drainage problem?".

No! These matters are trivial. The question uppermost in candidates
minds is "What do I feed my workers, now that chicken is taboo?!!".
You see one of the benefits of being a worker for a candidate,
at any elections, is that one can consume unlimited chilled beer
and unlimited chicken (mostly chicken xacuti and bread). Now with
the bird flu scare what do the candidates feed their workers?
Bhaji-puri? They would defect immediately.

Fish is much too expensive. Mutton would alienate the
Christians, beef would alienate the Hindus and pork wouldn't go
down well with the Muslim voters. Consider also that with thirty
wards being carved out of a not-so-populous Panjim, almost every
voter is also a worker for some candidate. We are not just talking
of keeping workers happy, we are talking about keeping voters happy.

I suggest that all candidates have roadside election
meetings. At the very beginning of the meeting live chicken are
slaughtered and while the speeches are in progress the chicken is
cooked on the spot. The poultry farmers will surely give their
chickens free for such a good cause and the restaurant industry
will also give their equipment and cooks free. They all stand to
gain if this confidence building measure works. As soon as the
speeches conclude the candidate, with great fanfare, eats some
chicken himself, followed by the poultry farmers and the
restaurateurs. The workers will definitely join in on seeing this.

Panjim is the capital city of Goa. Panjim always leads the way.
Goa watches what happens in Panjim. The rest of the state will surely follow
suit and start eating chicken again. The country and the world will
get the message, "It's safe to eat chicken in Goa!"

The CCP candidates missed their chance during the Carnival Parades.
Cutting, cooking and eating chicken on a moving parade float-truck
would have got them international attention and praise. Instead we
had floats that magnified the bird flu scare. Having said that I
still say hats off to the float designers who overnight managed to
fabricate bird flu related floats. I hope the CCP candidates
will take my suggestion seriously and do the right thing for their
workers, voters and Goa in general. The Government has done all it
can by reacting immediately and taking all health precautions. Now
it is time for us Ponjekars to show the rest of Goa that "Chaka
Chak" can apply to "Chicken" too!.

And since the candidates won't have to spend so much money on their
workers perhaps we will get candidates elected who genuinely want
to serve the people, and not just those with the deepest pockets.

-----
The humour column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated March 2nd
2006.
=====

Love in Goa

2008-03-23T04:21:00.000-07:00

Love in Goa
More than a hundred years back!

By Cecil Pinto

It is a relatively unknown fact that the famous anthropologist Margaret Mead was born in exactly the same year Queen Victoria died - 1901. Even more interesting is the fact that Queen Victoria, just before her death, had anticipated the public interest in matters of Sex and Sexuality and had commissioned an Irish anthropologist Angelia Philcoxe to make a study of mating patterns in Goa. This study was commenced and initial findings were sent by Angelia to the Queen but they never did reach their destination. Angelia contracted a severe case of bronchitis while in Goa and virtually disappeared from scientific circles. Rumours, at the time, have it that she holed up in Anjuna and thus technically was probably the first hippie. But that is conjecture. Fragments of paper retrieved from a recently discovered shipwreck off the coast of Sicily are suspected to be the initial drafts of her study, "Coming of Age in Goa".

Below are some of the legible transcripts. Keep in mind this was written by an anthropologist somewhere in 1899 or thereabouts, and these are the only surviving
fragments of a much larger report.

"Soon after pubescence, marked by the Sacrament of Confirmation among Catholics and the String Ceremony among Hindus, the native Goan male will actively search for a mate. Having identified a worthy companion he will, through a mutual friend or relative, communicate his interest with the simple phrase, 'I am interested in you'. If reciprocated they go through a period of "being friendly". This is the equivalent of 'dating' or 'going steady' in Western society and not just being friends as the term implies.
It is quite common for a couple to go from being friendly to being married without being friendly with anyone else. But in the rare instance that someone was friendly with one person and ended up marrying another person, this fact is brought up in hushed whispers at the time of betrothal.. An admission of 'I am friendly with...' is as good as a lifetime commitment here in Goa.

"Youngsters with raging hormones find partners at various social functions, weddings being the most popular for 'checking out the goods' as we would say in Western parlance. The sequence of intimacy very much follows the Western mode of eye to body, eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, arm to shoulder, arm to waist, mouth to mouth, hand to head, hand to body and so forth. In certain parts of South Goa, specially among the New Conquests, the intimacy sequence is not strictly followed and sometimes unpleasant situations follow as a result. In fact in these areas the standard 'interested' and 'friendly' sequence is superseded by asking 'Are you
giving?'. This is a literal translation of the Konkani phrase which probably could be read as 'Are you giving me your hand in marriage?' I will make an effort to study the language better."

"Church activities like nativity plays, carol singing, catechism, etc give hormonal members of the Catholic community ample opportunities to mix with the opposite gender. The Hindus have their mythological dramas called 'nataks' and also the ever popular late-night 'zatras' or vigilance festivals which allow for mixed gender social interaction. While coconuts and fruits are being auctioned off and the Monkey God Hanuman is whirling his mace on stage there is lots of circumspect intimacy among the members of the audience who have recently reached adulthood. I have heard reports from the neighbouring state of Bombay that a Konkani drama form called
'tiatr' is emerging among the Goans settled there. Perhaps when this comes to Goa the native Catholic teens here will have intermixing opportunities such as the 'natak' provides their Hindu counterparts now."

"The painstaking process of attempting to attract a member of the opposite sex to a 'friendly' stage is called 'line marring'. Whether this refers to blurring the line of the gender divide or a fishing line with a bait - as in angling, I have yet to decipher. But the latter explanation holds more probability as the female in a pairing is often referred to as a 'faskee' which is colloquial for one who is trapped."

"The equivalent of the English 'I love you' is, 'Hanv tujo mog kortam', which literally translates as 'I am making love to you'. Despite the suggestiveness of this phrase my studies show that instances of pre-marital sex among the natives of Goa are very rare. Extra-marital couplings among the landed aristocratic gentry, on the other hand, are much more frequent - in the absence of other forms of entertainment."

----------------
The article above appeared in Gomantak Times/Weekender dated 12th Feb 2006
as part of a Valentine Special Section.
========

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What young Goan parents dread

2008-03-23T04:20:00.001-07:00

What young Goan parents dread
Four years of Konkani medium schooling

By Cecil Pinto

Last week I met my friend Yvonne who is the mother of two pre-primary children. As expected she was complaining about school admissions. Like every parent in her age group, and economic class, she wants her child to study in a school that has English as the medium of instruction. "How else will they be able to migrate to Canada after finishing college?". Yvonne
ranted on about how in 'our times' school admissions occurred in the first week of June. I told her about how in certain play-schools in Mumbai admissions are sought when the woman becomes pregnant. I kid you not. I have seen it first-hand at a prestigious play-school of a distant relative.
Admission to a particular play-school virtually guarantees admission to a particular good school which in turn makes admission to a particular college easy, which then makes it easier to get into a particular management (or whatever the current mantra is) institute. And then one can get married to a rich businessman and have society parties, or become a
call girl (at a Call Centre) and compete with a 12th standard pass who speaks better English! And take abuse over the phone from some loutish American who can't figure out why his car insurance premiums have suddenly gone up.

But let's come back to Goa. In 1990 the Goa Government made Konkani as the compulsory medium of instruction for Government assisted schools. People of my generation cheered loudly. We didn't have a clue what it entailed, but it seemed the right thing to do, as after all we had dug up roads to get
Konkani into the 8th Schedule of the Indian Constitution (whatever that means too!). We were happy for our 'mai bhas'. We didn't think of our children. We were not married. We didn't have children! Some of us are still not married, or don't have children, but that is another topic for another day.

There where whimpers of protest from some parents back then in the early nineties. But they were shoved aside as the dying shudders of an inflexible elitist section of society, who could not deal with the new math, leave alone 'ganit' (math in Konkani). Then the next generation, us, got married,
procreated and searched around for good gynecologists, pediatricians, maid servants, play-schools and agents who knew how to get a Portuguese Passport. We had everything going for us - including the Internet where one could download forms for migration to Australia. Play-schools were blooming by the dozen. Every bored housewife, and her sister-in-law, converted their spare bedroom or garage into a play-school and stuck colourful charts of fruits and numbers on the wall. And of course some cut-outs of Disney characters. The market responds to a need.

Translation into Portuguese, and attesting of documents, came down from Rs. 1000/- to Rs. 250/- per document. The number of gynecologists and pediatricians did not proportionately increase with the demand, but they started sending less time per patient and hence were able to see more patients per day - while simultaneously on the phone checking out competitive prices for luxury cars and investing in mutual funds. "Hello!
No! Not UTI! Anything but UTI. What sound? Oh! This kid's got an ear infection, I think. Nurse give her these antibiotics and check her weight. Next!! What about Kothak Mahendra? I'm buying a Mahendra Bolero next week. Doctor Kelekar has one already. Nurse, take his weight and give him some antibiotics. What? I didn't even ask what's wrong? Oops!". I've never been
inside the sacrosanct section of the gynecologists office but I can imagine him enquiring about stock options with his cell-phone in one gloved hand while...

Reliable non-underage, non-live-in maid servants of course still remain elusive.

Where were we? Aha! Now the admission to the dreaded First Standard suddenly looms large for parents of my generation. We pick up Admission Forms of every English Medium primary school in town. And a few good Konkani medium schools too, for good measure. We make phone calls and cajole and coax and beg anyone who can get our kids into a decent and inexpensive English medium primary school. The South Goans as usual over
dramatise the issue by standing in queue overnight for admission forms like over-age Harry Potter fans. "Hi Jacob. What are you doing here in the night in the open in the cold? What? I can't hear you. Your teeth are chattering with the cold. Presentation? What presentation? Who's making a
presentation in Margao? Bill Gates? Nani Palkhivala? Isn't he dead? Are you insane? Do you want to die of cold?"

Regarding this obsessive behavior, I've heard excuses from parents that range from the sublime to the ridiculous. "It's not about language, it's about opportunities", "The thought of me helping them out with their homework is frightening. I hate the Devnagri script!", "The language doesn't matter. I want this school because they imbibe a good sense of culture, discipline and ethics. I don't want my son ending up like a
politician, specially not a MLA from Benaulim!". Quite frankly I will send my children to an English medium primary school. I heard that the private sector banks are giving loans for just this purpose - English Medium School Admission. It's a more lucrative business than vehicle and housing loans.
And if you don't pay your installments in time they can always yank your kid out of school and keep him kneeling outside their office till you pay up!

Before the die-hard Konkani activists come to gherao me and paint my face black I will warn them that (a) My complexion is so dark it will not make a difference! (b) I love my 'mai bhas', as much as, if not more, than any of them - and can curse in both scripts. (c) I will only entertain protestors
who can give me signed and notarised affidavits stating that: (1) Their children are currently studying in Konkani medium primary schools (2) They have never tried to seek admission in an English medium primary school (3) The MLAs , politicians and business men who support them also have their children currently studying, or having studied, in Konkani medium primary schools.

-------
The humour column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated February 9th 2006.
=======

(courtesy: THE GOAN FORUM
http://www.yahoogroups.com/group/goa-goans )

www.colaco.net

Surviving Wedding Receptions

2008-03-23T04:18:00.000-07:00

Surviving Wedding Receptions
A first-person book review by the author

By Cecil Pinto

Since nobody seems to be buying my latest guide-book, leave alone reviewing
it, I have decided to review it myself. "1,200 copies in print! The perfect
wedding gift!", reads the blurb of Cecil Pinto's latest offering,
"Surviving Goan Catholic Wedding Receptions: A must-have Manual and Guide".
A worthy successor to last year's "Surviving the Nuptial Mass", from the
author's Goan Guidebooks series whose combined readership must be in the
millions. In fact "Surviving Calangute in Peak Season" has gone into its
second edition. I particularly remember a succinct phrase from the
'Nuptials' primer (the introductory paragraph of the chapter, "Ten things
to do with the stupid Mass Booklet"). I quote, "Keep in mind that the
entire fifty copies of this totally unnecessary booklet has been printed on
the office computer, an immoral act that also harms the environment.
The precious few who still attend nuptials will bear in mind that the main
purpose of attending is to observe sacrilegious acts committed by the other
side of the family. This cannot be done efficiently if you're busy
examining the beautifully formatted Mass Booklet embellished
un-aesthetically with disproportionate clipart of doves, hearts and what
distinctively look like Christmas Bells. Pay attention to the homily and
responses uttered by the main celebrant and stop reading them from the
booklet!"

In fact so many such gems of advice abound in the latest book,
"Surviving Goan Catholic Wedding Receptions", that I will take a back seat
as a reviewer and just quote from the book.

Quote from Chapter 1, "The Beginning of the Blame Game".
"Mummy why are they sitting quietly in the wedding car?" In the last few
decades parents have had to hear this question and find it difficult to
explain why the bridal couple are having their first marital silent fight
in a beautifully decorated wedding car a few hundred meters from the
reception venue. As always happens, despite the very modern and
cosmopolitan couple having printed "7.30 p.m sharp" on the wedding invite,
none of the guests see it fit to arrive anytime before 8.45 p.m. Which
means the bridal couple has to wait outside the hall till sufficient guests
have accumulated to have a proper wedding march. The bride blames the
groom's people for being late, and vice versa. This blame game will
continue through the celebrations with each side finding flaw in whatever
the other side has arranged for. If the Master of Ceremonies lacks pizzazz
the bride's father will make it known that he had suggested hiring Alan
Pinto, who would have done a much better job. And the groom's brother
will casually mention that he could have got Alcatrazz to play, which would
have been much better than the clowns the bride's people hired - who can't
differentiate between a fox trot and a waltz. How does one explain all
this inter-family rivalry to a little child? Does one just go with the flow?
Why do guests at St. Estevam have a full dinner at home and only then
suit-boot themselves up and leisurely stroll over to the Casa da Povo hall,
ensuring the wedding march will never begin before midnight? Let's attempt
answering these questions with...

Quote from Chapter 2, "Things that go Blast in the Night"
In recent times firework displays have become a compulsory part of the
celebrations. Considering that till date no major fires have broken out as
a consequence, this author considers them a very low risk factor. Far more
dangerous are the two cylindrical upright pipes, stuffed with confetti,
that explode very noisily around the time of the cake cutting. Elderly
people, and those with heart problems, are advised to sit on their haunches
and shove their fingers in their ears around this time. People with
semi-senile parents please ensure that their hands are free of those tiny
thermacol balls, that are distributed for throwing on the bridal couple as
they enter the hall. A case has been reported from Bicholim where
extraction of one such ball from the ear of an elderly gentleman had to be
performed in a nearby hospital. Apparently he shoved his finger in his ear
to avoid the blast and shoved a thermacol ball deep into his ear in the
process.

The aerosol cans which spray strings, jets and showers of 'white stuff'
have not been proven to have any health risks but it is advisable to use
them from at least one meter away from intended victim. What is
questionable though is the sheer aggressiveness with which these spray cans
are used. Is it to temporarily decorate the couple, or is it a subconscious
attack on the groom for snaring the prize girl that we all salivated over
frustratedly right through high-school and college?

Chapter 3, "The March of the Tunnels"
Enterprising MCs have been known to use their skills to keep the tunnel
going for a full five rounds. The tunnel as you know is formed by couples
standing apart and holding hands under which the next couple passes and
follows suit. It is considered mathematically appropriate to extend this
totally mindless ritual for two whole rounds within which each couple has
had a chance to form a tunnel and march under it twice. But certain
sadistic MCs use this opportunity to vent their frustration (at having been
present from 6 p.m for a wedding that was supposed to commence at 7.30 p.m
and eventually started at 9.30 p.m.) by having the tunneling go on
endlessly - thus aggravating claustrophobia and spondylitis. My advice is
to grin and bear it. Later in the reception you can get even with the MC by
just refusing to join the crowd on the dance floor. Remember an MC in Goa
is graded as being good only if he can convince the maximum people to
dance. All other criteria of his performance are incidental.

------
I seem to have run out of space but will continue this review at some
later date. Join me then in previewing further chapters on surviving
receptions entitled, "The Never Ending Toast", "Watered down Whiskey",
"Snacking up for the Long Wait", "Positioning is Everything: Between the Bar
and the Buffet", "In-your-face Video", "Grin and bear the Flash", "Cha.. Cha..
Change the music!", "MC who thinks he's a Drillmaster", "Encircling the
Bride/Groom", "The Death of Birdy Dance, Macarena and Ketchup Song",
"Escaping the Masala Mix", "Presents in Presence only", "Heaping Twelve
Items in One Dinner Plate", "Distinguishing between Décor and Edibles",
"How much Dessert is Enough?", "Hernia-philia: Four Enthusiastic Friends,
a Chair and an Overweight Groom" etc etc.

------
The humour column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 2nd February 2006
===

This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans is dedicated to Goans around the Globe and is moderated/edited by Gaspar Almeida (since 1994) and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website.
EXPRESSIONS - The Flower Shop (Goa) www.goa-world.com/expressions/
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Merging with Maharashtra

2008-03-23T04:16:00.000-07:00

Merging with Maharashtra
Perhaps the anti-merger movement got it wrong

- By Cecil Pinto

Just last week the annual hoopla surrounding Road Safety Week ("Are our roads really safe?", "Do Goan drivers have civic sense?" blah, blah, blah...) was finally over.
Now starts the annual hoopla surrounding the Opinion Poll. Reams of newspaper space will be dedicated to that historic poll on 16th January 1967 where Goans overwhelmingly voted that we wanted a separate identity, and did not want to be merge with
Maharashtra.

Newspaper columnists will reminiscence on how all Goans united to fight off the threat of merger.
The phrase "regardless of caste or creed" will be repeated ad nauseam.
A little known historical fact is that the villages of Moira and Benaulim were offered to Maharashtra as a token gesture, but the offer was refused. Whether the refusal was because of geographical incongruity, or other factors, is a matter shrouded in history.
But that is another topic for another day.

I was discussing the issue with my friend Ganpat whose father was a keen pro-merger politician and a stalwart of the Maharashtra Gomantak Party at the time.
Ganpat too feels that we should have merged with Maharashtra. I suspect Ganpat agrees with his father more because he hopes to inherit his father's tenancy rights over some prime property in Pernem, rather than out of any genuine conviction. Ganpat is a well-to-do PWD engineer, but land is land and greed is greed.
Regardless I feel Ganpat has a few valid points and these deserve to be heard.

"And Cecil, have you ever given thought to the bar girls issue?"

"But Ganpat, What has that got to do with the merger?"

"If we were part of Maharashtra we would have had bar girls too. Now we have to go all the way to Mumbai to watch them gyrate to loud filmi music as we drink horribly overpriced liquor under dim lights."

"But I heard many of these bar girls are resettling in Goa."

"No yaaar. They are not resettling. They are reinventing themselves. They come here to work as call girls.
We Goan guys don't want to pay for sex.
Just some sexy entertainment while we drink."

"Ganpat, let's not forget the main issue. What possible advantage could we have got from merging with Maharashtra?"

"Well phone calls would have been cheaper to Mumbai. You know I'm in the printing business. I phone Mumbai about eight times a day and go to Mumbai at least five times a month and..."

"My Aunt Merzina lives in Borivali but still thinks of herself a Mumbaikar.
I keep reminding her that you, Ganpat, visit Mumbai proper more often in a month than she has in the last five years!!!"

"Anyway coming back to what I was saying. My phone calls to Mumbai are killing me.
If we were merged with Maharashtra they would be local calls!"

"Surely Ganpat, there must be some more compelling arguments for merger with Maharashtra."

"You want compelling reasons? Ok how about this. The Mopa airport would not be an issue.
They say only Maharashtra will benefit.
But if we were part of Maharashtra ..."

"Ok. You have a point there.
But what about the fact of our Goan identity being submerged?

"This Goan identity thing is a myth. The tenant farmer in Sattari has nothing in common with the bhatkar in Salcete who in turn has nothing in common with a teenage Goan girl in Canada who has never even been to Goa."

"What would be the fate of our mother tongue Konkani?
It would surely die."

"Ha! Konkani will never die as long as we speak, read and write it.
If we were merged with Maharashtra at least this script issue would not be a problem. Devnagri would be the only script.
And you think that making Konkani the medium of instruction has helped? Go and see the lines for admission into English medium primary schools and you will understand that ..."

"Ganpat, I think we're digressing. How would the Goan people gain if we had merged with Maharashtra?"

"Man-hours and statues."

"Man-hours and statues? Huh?"

"Do you know how many man-hours are spent every year discussing issues about Goan identity and non-Goan in-migration and Konkani script and such stuff?
If we were merged with Maharashtra these would not be an issue and we could use the same man-hours to do productive work."

"Hmmmm. And what's this about statues?"

"Look at it this way Cecil. They're asking for a statue of Dr. Jack Sequeira to be installed at Panjim.
A committee will be formed. The RSS will object and say that a statue of Naguesh Karmali should be installed instead. In the Committee itself there will be infighting on the pose for the statue.
Should Sequeira be shown speaking at a mike or casting his vote? The Nationalists will insist that he be shown wearing a kurta pyjama and not 'western' clothing.
The South Goans will insist that the statue be installed in Margao as Salcete was the stronghold of the anti-mergerists.
The Freedom Fighters will form a Samiti and demand that all cities should be renamed with a 'pur' suffix - Panjimpur, Margaopur, Vascopur..."

"And Ganpat, what would be different if we were part of Maharashtra?"

"Firstly there would be no statue required. Secondly if a statue was required someone just has to suggest that a statue of Shivaji Maharaj be put up instead and nobody would dare to object! So many man-hours wasted on discussion would be saved. In fact even today we celebrate Maharashtrian language and culture so much more than our own that I don't see why that Opinion Poll was held at all."

-----
The humnour column above appeared in Gomantak Times
dated 19th January 2006
====

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans is dedicated to Goans around the Globe and is moderated/edited by Gaspar Almeida (since 1994) and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website.

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An occasion to celebrate.....the Mangalore Airport. Read www.daijiworld.com

REAL ESTATE: Brokers and Decisions

2008-03-23T04:14:00.000-07:00

REAL ESTATE: Brokers and Decisions

Tongue in Cheek
By Cecil Pinto

----

Everybody I know is doing a little bit of real estate on the side. From the local motorcycle pilot to the aristocratic Portuguese speaking bhatkar, everyone is suddenly a 'broker' of sorts and conversations are dominated by terms like '2%', 'conversion', 'agreement for sale' and 'stamp duty'. So what exactly is happening? What is driving this boom? Is there a boom at all? How come the builders are not beaming all the way to the bank as they did in the mid-1990s? Who is making them money? And, most importantly, how do I get a share of the loot?

I decided to meet a proper experienced real estate consultant to find out more about the business. Maybe he suspected that I was trying to learn the trade myself so he kept his cards quite close to his chest and I learnt nothing I didn't really know already. Getting nowhere I approached my friend Michael from Calangute. Now Michael has dabbled in everything from shacks, to massage parlours, to shady drug deals (he claims he only did light drugs; and anyway even that has stopped now because the hafta makes the whole risky business rather uneconomical), to tour operations to rave parties and now he's dived into real estate brokerage.

"So Michael how did you get into this business?"

"It's like this. About three years back I found this Irish couple who wanted to buy a small house somewhere in South Goa. I introduced them to this big real estate agency and they were very happy with the services provided and purchased an apartment in Arpora. A few months later I took this nice gentleman from New Delhi to the same agency and at that time they gave me Rs. 7,500/- as my commission for bringing them the Irish couple. I calculated that as half a percent. This was quite generous considering the precious nothing that I did. So for the next two years I kept introducing this agency to buyers and sellers of property and when any deal clicked I got my "finder's fee".

"But if the couple wanted a small house in South Goa how come they got saddled with an apartment in Arpora?"

"See Cecil, you don't quite understand. There are lots of houses for sale in Goa but when you actually get down to doing the paper work you realise that the ownership is not as clear. People assume that since they have Form I & XIV that the house is theirs. There's lot more than that involved. Apartments on the other hand have relatively clear title. Now foreigners are very insistent on an absolutely clear title. Indian clients on the other hand know how the system works, and that possession is 9/10th of the law."

"So when did you strike out on your own?"

"About a year back a German couple I had sent to this same agency complained to me that they were being shown places that didn't match their criteria at all. They wanted a big house in the interior of North Goa and the agency was showing them row houses on the beach and tiny holiday apartments. And they were being charged Rs.300/- each time they were shown some lousy place that was completely the opposite of what they had asked for. They were quite disgusted so I took them around directly to some owners of houses in Bardez and charged them nothing per visit. Of course we went around in a hired van driven by my cousin Alvito. He's now into the real estate business himself, competing with me! Finally when they found just the right place at Olaulim, I introduced them to my brother-in-law who is a lawyer and the deal came through. I got 2% from both sides, buyer and seller, and it was such a big amount that I decided to become a full-time broker myself. Of course I still organise rave parties during peak season but this business is so much less risky."

"But isn't there always the risk that the buyer and seller might collude and not give you your percentage?"

"That happens to other brokers, not me. I make myself a friend of both parties. I do not inflate the price like some other brokers do. I take them over to my sister's restaurant and get them a major discount and special service. Once I even threw in a complimentary overnight boat cruise for two for the price of one. My neighbour has these boat cruises. And of course I recommend foreigners to the best dentists, massage parlours and pharmacies for bulk purchases. Trust begets trust. "

"And how do you handle this six month continuous residence Reserve Bank rule for foreigners?"

"That is my trade secret. That I cannot reveal. Just remember, trust begets trust."

"Doesn't it bother you that the demographics of Goa are changing with foreigners and non-Goans buying prime land here?"

"The houses I sell were lying vacant. They were falling apart in some cases. Isn't it better that they are looked after and lived in? Or perhaps you would prefer that some greedy mundkar with a house of his own claims rights over it and then just allows it to fall apart?"

"But why are our people selling their houses? Don't they want to own a part
of the land of their ancestors?"

"That's easy for you to say Cecil. The last house I sold belonged to a family settled in Canada. The parents, children and grandchildren are there. They haven't been to Goa in ten years. The last time they did they stayed in a hotel because it didn't make sense to do up the house just to live there for two weeks. The grandchildren have never been to their ancestral house and wouldn't care less. They are Canadians. Their Goanness consists of taking part in the Viva Goa carnival once a year and chorusing the first verses of exactly three mandos. They are quite content with reading, in Goan cyber space, about happenings in Goa. The vagaries of the Bush administration are much more important to them than the Konkani script debate. Most of them can't speak Konkani anyway! They don't love Goa. They wouldn't care less what happens here. They only claim to be Goan to
differentiate themselves from other Indians abroad."

"I tell you Cecil, these people who are buying houses here truly love Goa and plan to live here. Maybe these are the people who will bring about a better Goa. Our own people have flown to other lands. It is the outsiders buying land here who are putting their money where their mouth is. Maybe they will appreciate and improve Goa, since our own people are not doing that! "

-------
The column above appeared in the November 2005 issue of Goa Today magazine.

Some issues of Goa Today are still archived at www.goa-world.com -----

This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans is dedicated to Goans around the Globe and is moderated/edited by Gaspar Almeida (since 1994) and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website.

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GOENCHO ULO http://www.fullerlife.in

------
The 11th annual All Goa Home Garden Competition, to be judged on 08 January in South Goa and 15 January, in North Goa, is BSG's event together with the people of Goa.
------

The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year.
It is that we should have a new soul.
– G.K. Chesterton, 1874-1936, English Writer.

Teaching Konkani - by Cecil PInto

2008-03-23T04:13:00.000-07:00

Cecil & Beatrice Pinto continue to explore Goa with, and teach Konkani to, a young couple from the Isle of Wight in UK - Andrew and Justine.

Mapusa Market

Andrew: How come these ladies here are selling long sausages and the ladies there are selling tiny sausages?

Cecil: South Goans have small sausages. Ha!

Beatrice: Just ignore him. In North Goa sausages, called chourisam, which is plural for chouris, are packaged long whereas in South Goa chourisam are divided into tiny sections. But the basic ingredients are the same – only dukra mas and chorob or fat, and vinegar masala. No skin, or organs are used. Other dishes like sorpatel use all the edible parts of the dukor.

Justine: These chourisam seem to be dripping with chorob. Isn’t that unhealthy?

Cecil: Health and hygiene! That’s all you people obese about. If it wasn’t for the chorob the chourisam would not have their distinctive taste. It also acts as a preservative. Of course, other than the ingredients and the proportions, there are many other factors that are responsible for different tastes among chourisam. Whether they have been dried in the sun, votan, or above the huge baker’s oven, called forn, or …

Andrew: I tasted sorpatel at the hotel restaurant yesterday. Tasty, bit a bit too spicy.

Beatrice: After being prepared the sorpatel has to marinate in an earthen utensil, like a kundlem, for a few days. Then it gets properly pickled and is a delight to eat. Do you know the gai’s intestine, called ankidi, is used to pack the chouris mas? The gai’s stomach, or pot, is used to make another dish called buch. And the dukra ankidi is used to make a sorpatel like dish called bannem.

Justine: Is there really a North Goa-South Goa divide as Cecil keeps hinting at?

Beatrice: No there isn’t. He just likes to poke fun at South Goans. Basically there are eleven talukas, or administrative units. In general when talking about North Goa we refer to Bardez, South Goa is Salcete and Central Goa is Ilhas - also referred to as Tiswadi. This of course is generic as they are just three prominent talukas.

Cecil: We refer to Salcete as Xasti. So a man from Xasti becomes a Xastikar, a woman from Bardez a Bardezkarn etc. Similar to the bhatkar and bhatkarn I mentioned earlier.

Justine: Is ‘x’ always pronounced as ‘sh’ in Konkani.

Cecil: Yes always. Does rice-curry look better as xit-coddi or as shit-coddi?!!

Andrew: Are all these fruits being sold around this lovely fountain all grown in Goa?

Beatrice: What you can see here are apol, obviously apples, grapes called dacu, oranges or larangam and sweet lime or sontram. But further down you will see local fruits like chickoo, popaya, guavas or peram, custard apples or anter, pineapple or annanest and of course bananas called kelim and watermelons called kalingam. The kalingam grown in Parra are supposed to be extremely tasty.

Andrew: What are those monster size kelim there?

Cecil: Those twelve inchers are Moidechem kelem or Moira Bananas. The tiny yellow kelim are called ellchim kelim. They are very sweet and easy to digest and are given to small children. The normal sized green-yellow ones are called ghanvti kelim. Now ghanvti tanteam refers to local or free-range eggs. Also remember there is a word named ghanti which is used to derogatorily refer to non-Goan Indians. Actually ghanti refers to inhabitants of the Western Ghats but it is now used as catchword for all non-Goans, specially the labour class migrant workers. remember ghanvti is a word used to suggest local or locally-grown or locally-made as opposed to from-out-of-state or branded. For example ghanvti tanu means local rice or ghanvti tanteam refers to local or free-range eggs. Also remember there is a word named ghanti which is used to derogatorily refer to non-Goan Indians. Actually ghanti refers to inhabitants of the Western Ghats but it is now used as catchword for all non-Goans, specially the labour class migrant workers.

Justine: There is a lot of resentment against the outsiders isn’t there.

Cecil: Yes. You see….

Beatrice: Oh no! You’ve given him a cue for one of his long rambling socio-political monologues. All this talk of eatables has made me hungry. Let’s go home.

Andrew: Why home? Can’t we just pop into a restaurant here?

Cecil: Who’s paying?

Justine: Does that make a big difference?

Cecil: Of course it does. If you’re paying I will take you to a posh air conditioned expensive place. If I’m paying we can go to some cheap place and I will divert your attention from the poor fare with non-stop conversation!

Beatrice: Let’s compromise and go to Café Xavier.

cpinto@sancharnet.com
(courtesy: Goencho Ulo)

"Missing you, John"

2008-03-23T04:02:00.000-07:00

A Goan Christmas Story

"Missing you, John"
A short story by Pundalik Asnodkar
Translated from the original Konkani by Cecil Pinto

The phone rang. Just as Gracy was about to pick it up the doorbell sounded. Gracy hesitated. "Maaaaaammy, somebody's come!" shouted little Janice at the top of her voice. "So open the door darling", said Gracy.

"But Maammy that day you told me not to open the door for anyone?", said Janice with the insulted indignation only a four year old can conjure. "But Janice, now I'm telling you... ". "Waaah! Waaah! Waaaaaaaah!".

"Oh no!", thought Gracy as she ran towards the bedroom. As she had guessed, little Blake had woken up from his mid-morning sleep and now would have to be carried for a full half an hour before he calmed down. The doorbell rang again. "Coming!", screamed Gracy as she ran to pick up the phone first, with Blake perched on her hip, bawling at the top of his voice. "Hello! Yes Mum. Could you hold on for a moment.

There's someone at the door. No Mum I'm ok! Just a bit busy. JANICE stop pinching his leg! Stop! No Mum it's all right. I can manage.... " She really could. If it wasn't for the feeding and the cooking and the bathing and the washing and ....

Gracy often thought about the nice time she had at her husband's parents house in Bambolim or the even better times at her Mum's place in Moira. She often wondered whether buying a flat in Ribandar had been all that good an idea. But John had insisted that they stay independently. "With three brothers and their wives and children in one house, however big it might be, there's bound to be problems soon. We better move out before that starts". That's what John said. Of course John didn't have to look after two screaming kids by himself. But Gracy loved John for all that he did do. Worked his way up from driver to store-keeper, he did. And at the biggest soft drink company in Dubai that wasn't an easy task. But doing overtime, and taking computer classes by night, he had slowly moved up the ladder. Now he was earning pretty well.

"Look at the apartment as an investment too darling", John had said, "Something we can really call our own ". But on days like this she wished she could just go back to Bambolim or Moira. Any place actually, where she could get a few hours rest from the kids and the housework. She loved John absolutely and she missed him with an aching, specially on days like this.

"Hold the line Mum. I'll just see who's come ", said Gracy as she put the phone on the table and went to open the door. "Mrs. Gracy D'Mello?", asked the smart young man standing at the doorway with a Delivery Challan book in one hand and what looked like a bebinca in the other.

Besides him stood a pretty girl carrying a vase with fresh flowers and a champagne bottle wrapped in a lovely ribbon. "Yes. What is it?", asked Gracy. "Ma'am we have this Christmas Package delivery for you ", said the young man as he proffered the pad and a pen, "Could you please sign the delivery challan? ". Gracy did not have to ask who had sent it. "This John of mine is a sentimental nut. A real nutcase", she thought to herself, her eyes already moistened with tears. She signed the pad in a hurry and closed the door. She did not want anyone seeing her crying. "Maammy", shouted little Janice as she started crying too, "Why you crying Maammy? Who sent this basket Maammy? Can I open this cake Maammy? ".

Blake started bawling again, " Waaaaah!". Gracy suddenly remembered her Mum was still on the phone, as she heard squeaky noises coming from that direction, above all the wailing.

"Hello! Hello Mum! No Mum. I'm not crying Mum", said Gracy into the phone. But there's no fooling your own mother. "Mum, John sent me this beautiful Christmas Package all the way from Dubai. How? I don't know. Must be Internet or something. I remember reading EXPRESSIONS on the delivery challan I signed. Mum wasn't that so loving of him. Now it really feels like Christmas. It had almost slipped my mind that Christmas Day is two days away. What with the children and all. Yes Mum

I got the cul-culs you sent. No Mum, I won't buy dodol from the shop. I know you'll send some over tomorrow. Mummy the vase is so impressive. Beautiful fresh flowers, carnations I think. Janice is trying to open the wrapping of the bebinca. JANICE stop now! Right now! Don't open that! And Mum there's a champagne bottle. Yes Mum, I know Janice has seen champagne being opened on Santan's wedding video.

Now she can see it live! Dropping in tomorrow evening you said? Fine with me Mum. No! I can't possible take the kids for midnight mass. Yes Mum I know. The dew is terrible these days. Bye Mum!" That John, thought Gracy as she put the phone down, he always was full of these pleasant surprises. She thought nostalically about that day, so many years ago in college, when he had embarrassed her by sending flowers to her in the classroom.

A broad smile broke on her tearful face like the sunrise breaking through gloomy clouds. Sensing the change in her mother's mood Janice too started grinning. And little Blake started his cheerful gurgling.

Gracy knew John would call on Christmas Day early in the morning as he did on every holiday and every Friday and Feast Day and birthday. He would insist on speaking for ever so long. And hear all Janice's complains and even speak gibberish to little Blake.

"John, don't spend so much money on these frivolous calls", Gracy always used to chide him. But deep in here heart she cherished every moment she spoke with him, and wished he would speak even longer.

"Let him call tomorrow, I have so much to tell him", thought Gracy, "About Blake's first tooth. And Janice's Christmas Tree at playschool and of course this beautiful Christmas Package that he sent us." "Oh John ", she whispered to herself, "How I love you John, how I miss you". ---------

Please forward this story to any Goans on your mailing list.

Specially those who you
know will not be home in Goa for Christmas.--------- Easy Link: www.goa-world.com/expressions/xmas/ Email: expressions@apexmail.com

This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans is dedicated to Goans around the Globe and is moderated/edited by Gaspar Almeida (since 1994) and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website.

Who wrote "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star"?

2008-03-23T04:01:00.001-07:00

http://bdb.co.za/shackle/articles/twinkle.htm

Who wrote "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star"?

"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" is one of the world's best-known and most-loved poems. Millions of English-speaking people can recite the first verse from childhood memory, but few know who wrote it.

The charming nursery rhyme, often wrongly thought to be a folk story, was composed almost 200 years ago by London-born sisters Jane and Ann Taylor, and was first published in 1806 as "The Star." Perhaps the neglected authors will receive long-overdue credit in 2006.

"The beautiful words ... have been immortalised in the poem and music has been added, thus increasing its popularity," says Surrey historian Linda Alchin. "The lyrics draw a comparison of the twinkling of the star to the shutting or blinking of the eye providing a perfect illustration of clever imagery and excellent use of the English language."

Many people think that Mozart wrote the music, but that too is incorrect.
Mozart composed 12 variations on a folk melody which was popular in Europe
long before the Taylor sisters wrote their poem.

Jane was born in her parents' home in Red Lion Street, Holborn, London, on
September 23, 1783. Her father, Isaac Taylor, was an engraver, artist and preacher, and their mother was a professional writer who raised a large family (her first six children were born within seven years).

Shortly before Jane's third birthday the family moved to Lavenham, Suffolk, and later to Colchester, Essex.

"Even from her third or fourth year, the child inhabited a fairy land, and was perpetually occupied with the imaginary interests of her teeming fancy," the girls' mother wrote.

She recalled that years later, Ann had written "I can remember that Jane was always the saucy, lively, entertaining little thing — the amusement and the favourite of all that knew her. At the baker's shop she used to be placed on the kneading-board, in order to recite, preach, narrate — to the great entertainment of his many visitors; and at Mr. Blackadder's she was the life and fun of the farmer's hearth.

"Her plays, from the earliest that I can recollect, were deeply imaginative, and I think that in `Moll and Bet', 'The Miss Parks', 'The Miss Sisters', 'The Miss Bandboxes', and 'Aunt and Niece', which I believe is the entire catalogue of them, she lived in a world wholly of her own creation, with as deep a feeling of reality as life itself could afford."

The girls' brother, one of four generations of writers named Isaac Taylor, wrote a lengthy and very readable memoir that reads like a Jane Austen novel. In it, he recalled:

In this garden the sisters were, at a very early age, companions in song; and they were wont, before the eldest was six years old, to pace up and down the green walks, hand in hand, lisping a simple couplet of their joint composition... It appears to have been written when she was nine years of age.

To be a poetess I don't aspire;
From such a title humbly I retire;
But now and then a line I try to write;
Though bad they are — not worthy human sight.

Sometimes into my hand I take a pen,
Without the hope of aught but mere chagrin
I scribble, then leave off in sad despair,
And make a blot in spite of all my care.

I laugh and talk, and preach a sermon well;
Go about begging, and your fortune tell
As to my poetry, indeed 'tis all
As good, and worse by far, than none at all.

Have patience yet I pray, peruse my book;
Although you smile when on it you do look
I know that in't there's many a shocking failure
But that forgive — the author is JANE TAYLOR.

It was perhaps a year later that she addressed to her father the
following:

PETITION

Ah dear papa! did you but know
The trouble of your Jane,
I'm sure you would relieve me now,
And ease me of my pain.

Although your garden is but small,
And more indeed you crave,
There's one small bit, not used at all,
And this I wish to have.

A pretty garden I would make,
That you would like I know;
Then pray, papa, for pity's sake,
This bit of ground bestow.

For whether now I plant or sow,
The chickens eat it all;
I'd fain my sorrows let you know,
But for the tears that fall.

My garden then should be your lot
I've often heard you say,
There useful trees you wish to put,
But mine were in the way.

The first piece of Jane's which appeared in print was a contribution in the Minor's Pocket Book, for the year 1804... Her sister Ann had contributed to the same publication for several preceding years, and had gained notice.

The little pieces which they had sent to the Minor's Pocket Book, induced the publisher to inquire who the authors were: he then applied to them for any pieces they might possess. These they collected and sent, receiving ten pounds for them, and afterwards five, with a promise of fifteen more for a second volume. The arrival of the first sum was an interesting and memorable event.

The little volume of Original Poems for Infant Minds, “by several young persons”, was found to be highly acceptable to children, and so useful in the business of early education, that, in a very short time, it obtained an extensive circulation.

It was quickly reprinted in America, and translated into the German and Dutch languages. What share of this success belongs to each of the contributors to the volume, could not be ascertained, even if to make the inquiry were of any importance. Jane, for her part, was ever forward to surrender all praise to others.

In 1808, four members of the family returned to Lavenham, because of fears that coastal Colchester would be invaded by French forces.. Brother Isaac wrote:

During the autumn and winter of the year 1808, the alarm of a French invasion (and it has since been ascertained that it was a well-founded alarm) prevailed throughout the country, and especially along the eastern and southern coasts. Colchester was, at that time, a principal military station: the incessant movements, therefore, of a large body of troops, held always in a state of readiness to meet the expected enemy, tended of itself to keep alive a constant impression of the impending danger; besides this, the military persons who were in command of the station, took pains to excite the popular fears.

Every day some whispered intimation of immediate danger from "the best authority" was circulated through the town, till a strong and general impression prevailed that the immediate neighbourhood might, very probably, become the scene of the first conflict with the invaders.

In this state of public feeling, not a few of those of the inhabitants whose means allowed them to do so, either left the town for a time, or made such arrangements as should enable them to leave it at an hour's notice.

At this time the house which, as has been mentioned, my father owned at Lavenham, was without a tenant; this circumstance seemed to invite the step which the fears of the time suggested — that of removing a part of the family thither, where a home would be always in readiness for those who remained, should it be needed.

No material difficulty prevented the execution of this plan, and it was determined that Jane, with two of her brothers, and an infant sister, should remove to the vacant house. This separation of the family took place in the middle of October.

In 1811, the family moved once again, this time to Ongar, an ancient market town in Essex, 20 miles from London, the girls' father "having accepted an invitation of the dissenting congregation in that town to become their pastor."

Brother Isaac reported: "Jane was much from home. The winter was spent in London by the two sisters, and devoted to perfecting themselves in some of those lighter accomplishments which had hitherto been more or less neglected in their education." (They never attended a school, their father preferring to teach them at home).

Jane was a sickly child, and was in poor health all her life. She died on April 13, 1824, aged 41. "The interment took place in the burial-ground of the chapel at Ongar, where a simple monument has been erected to mark the spot," Isaac wrote.

["There is no memorial in Ongar, but the family is very well remembered in the town, particularly by the URC church (formerly Congregational church) where the Rev Isaac Taylor was minister," Essex historian Michael Leach told us. "Memorabilia of the family are regularly displayed at church events. Their gravestones are now under an extension of the church, but can be viewed by lifting a trapdoor in the floor."]

Ann had married the Rev. Joseph Gilbert, classical and mathematical tutor at the Congregational College, Masborough, near Rotherham, Yorkshire, in 1813. They later moved to Hull, and then to Nottingham, where Joseph Gilbert died in 1852. Ann remained in Nottingham. She died there on December 20, 1866.

The sisters wrote many poems, children's stories and hymns, but none of their work achieved the popularity of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."

"In literary excellence Mrs. Gilbert's hymns surpass those of her sister," commented Dr John Julian (1839-1913) editor of the Dictionary of Hymnology.
"They are more elevated in style, ornate in character, broader in grasp and better adapted for adults .... Miss Taylor's hymns are marked by great simplicity and directness....Taken as a whole, the hymns of both sisters are somewhat depressing in tone. They lack brightness and tone."

Today, blue commemorative plaques are displayed on the Taylor houses in West Stockwell Street, Colchester and Shilling Street, Lavenham, and on the chapel wall at Ongar. The National Trust has a permanent exhibition of paintings, books and personal belongings in the Lavenham Guildhall.

Isaac Taylor's excellent painting of his daughters Jane and Ann can be viewed at
the National Portrait Gallery, or on the internet.
Many amusing parodies have been based on "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Lewis Carroll's is the best known. In Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, written in 1865, the Mad Hatter recites:

Twinkle, twinkle, little bat,
How I wonder what you're at.
Up above the world you fly,
Like a teatray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle little bat,
How I wonder what you're at.

Fast forward to the 1980s, and Sesame Street cartoon character Don Music quoted this parody by composer and lyricist Joe Raposo (1937-1989):

Whistle, whistle little bird,
Isn't eating crumbs absurd
Try a ham and cheese on rye
And a piece of cherry pie
If those crumbs are all you want
Don't come in my restaurant

----

Jane Taylor wrote the lyrics in 1806.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

Then the traveler in the dark
Thanks you for your tiny spark;
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

In the dark blue sky you keep,
While you thro' my window peep,
And you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!

(and here is new verse written by one of our visitors, Mr. Joel Hebets)
Softly shining silver moon,
Peaking at me in my room,
When you're in the sky at night,
The world around me glows so brightly,
Softly shining silver moon,
If you go, please come back soon.
Eighteenth-Century French Folk Song: Ah! Vous dirai-je, Maman Many years before the lyrics to "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" were written, children across France sang the words to "Ah! Vous dirai-je, Maman" (K. 265), presented below, to a similar tune. Seventeen-year-old Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart used the melody in his piano variation.
Pleasing, organized melodies such as this one have great value for children and
adults alike. Music speaks in a language that children instinctively understand, and it helps mold a child's mental, emotional, social, and physical development. The original words below are not about stars, they are about a child's desire for candy! Ah! Vous dirai-je, Maman,
Ce qui cause mon tournment?
Papa veut que je raisonne,
Comme une grande personne;
Moi, je dis que les bonbons
Valent mieux que la raison.

Ah! Let me tell you, Mother,
What's the cause of my torment?
Papa wants me to reason
Like a grown-up.
Me, I say that candy has
Greater value than reason.

------------

http://www.famousquotes.me.uk/nursery_rhymes/hush_a_bye_baby.htm

Hush a bye baby: lyrics
Hush a bye baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock;
When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
Nursery Rhyme or lullaby?
The lyrics to this famous nursery rhyme were first published in 1765.
The words and lyrics to this song are often crooned to a baby in an effort to rock them to sleep. When repeating this song children often make a rocking motion with their hands and arms. The imagery conveyed appeals to a child's imagination! The origins and history of this nursery rhyme are said to originate from America and the habit of some Native Americans of placing a baby in the low branches of a tree allowing the young child or baby to be rocked to sleep.

Check out
http://www.famousquotes.me.uk/nursery_rhymes/nursery_rhymes_index.htm
for some trivia about the origins of many popular nursery rhymes.
------

Cecil Pinto Trivia News Service
=====

This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans is dedicated to Goans around the Globe and is moderated/edited by Gaspar Almeida (since 1994) and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website.

Roman Konkani is not Greek or Latin

2008-03-23T03:59:00.000-07:00

ROMAN KONKANI IS
NOT GREEK OR LATIN

Bor: Cecil Pinto

Cecil & Beatrice Pinto explore Goa with, and teach Konkani to, a young couple from the Isle of Wight in UK - Andrew and Justine.

MAPUSA MARKET - PART ONE

Cecil: The best day to come here is on a Friday. The weekly market brings in farmers with local produce from neighbouring villages, as well as roadside hawkers selling a plethora of goodies. In Konkani it's called Sunkrarcho Bazaar, with Sunkrar being Friday.

Justine: And what are the other days of the week?

Beatrice: Well, starting with Monday we have Somar, Munglar, Budhvar, Brestar, Sunkrar, Sonvar and Aitar is Sunday.”

Andrew: Does the name Mapusa mean anything?

Cecil: Well, firstly, understand that Mapusa is also spelled as Mhapsheam, Mapuça and Mhapsa. One explanation of the name origin suggests that since Mapusa has always been a 'market' town the name comes from map asa with map being 'a small cup' used for measuring cereals for sale, and while cooking, and asa meaning 'having'. Of course, it makes as much sense as this other explanation. Mhapsa comes from Maha Pasa. Maha means great and Pasa is the Hindu God of farmers.

Justine: How come I never heard of a Lord Pasa in my study of Hinduism?”

Beatrice: Of course you didn't. He just made that up. As he does most explanations of place-name origins!

Andrew: What's this little green vegetable? It's the size of, but looks different and feels softer than, a gherkin.

Cecil: I may be jerking around but I know more about Goa than you!

Beatrice: He was referring to the tendli. It's called gherkin in English. But what he's holding is a bimbli. I don't know what it's called in English.

Cecil: It's called bilimbi in other countries. Supposedly originally from Indonesia it is grown in the Phillipines, Sri Lanka and even as far as South America. This is the first time I've seen bimblis being sold. They're normally freely available and grown in every porsum next to the pee outlet.

Andrew: Pee outlet? You mean the septic tank? And what's a porsum?

Beatrice: A porsum is the area surrounding the house. Sort of like garden or compound. A pee is a kitchen sink that flows into the porsum. Bimbli trees need a lot of constant water supply and porous soil. Septic tanks are recent concepts. Our ancestors had a well balanced system to take care of all waste.

Justine: So I hear. The pig toilets were an awesome concept. Pity it's dying out. How are bimblis cooked?

Beatrice: Bimblis are very sour and so used to add an acidic content to any dish. Similar to tamarind, which incidentally is called cheench. It can also be used as a base for a curry.

Cecil: The kumanv, or pig toilet as you called it, is not the only waste disposal system our ancestors devised. There is the concept of donn. Basically edible waste. This was fed to the pigs. People who didn't rear pigs had their dhonn collected by people who did. The dhonn collectors even used to pay them for the dhonn with a nominal coconut, or naal as we call it, every month. Imagine being paid for your waste! How many names for pig do you have in England?

Justine: Well, there's a pig and a sow and sometimes we use the word swine.

Beatrice: Here a pig is called a dukor and sometimes a soloug when it is younger. A sow is called a dukon and sometimes a leitao when it is younger. And you also have a barranv which is an undomesticated un-castrated pig that is intentionally left loose to impregnate the dukons.

Cecil: If I'm reborn as a pig I would like to be a barranv. Pork away pal! Do you know pork is referred to as dukra-mas, which basically means pig-meat. Mas means meat. So you have kombye-mas for chicken with kombi being a hen and kombo being a rooster and peel being a chicken. Also you have bokdya-mas with bokdo being a goat, bokdi a she-goat and bokuddlem for a kid goat. And of course padkulem is a calf, gai is a cow and pado is a bull, so gai-mas is beef.

Beatrice: That's enough bull for now. Let's check out the sausages.

CECIL PINTO,
9822164364

Well come to Aldona, Ingo!

2008-03-23T03:58:00.001-07:00

Well come to Aldona, Ingo!
By Cecil Pinto

On the night of Saturday, 19th November 2005, a top-secret meeting was held at a bar in Aldona. The select invitees were important local businessmen and functionaries from the Aldona Panchayat, Communidade, Institute and other local institutions. I was not invited. I am not that important. This meeting had been called to broker a peaceful settlement between the warring factions - all of whom had invited Ingo to run his Saturday Market in Aldona. Fortunately one of my friends had his ear to the ground. He was sleeping comatose in the next room, having imbibed a bit too much in the afternoon. The voice-record button on his mobile was on. These are some of the snippets I was able to decipher.

"The Corjuem Fort? How can you have a Market there? It's much too far away."

"But they can see our wonderful cable-stayed bridge on their way".

"The Quitula Grounds are much more accessible."

"And we have uncultivated fields around that can be used for parking."

"I don't see what's wrong with the Tercena ground in front of the Aldona Institute. It's in the centre of the village. And there's a Sodium Vapour bulb."

"Yes. And a nice freshly painted Children's Park at the side."

"What did Ingo say?"

"Ingo preferred the Communidade land near the Health Centre. It's closer to the beach belt."

"And there's the Police Station nearby if there's any law and order problem."

"But the environmentalists might protest. Ingo will have to cut some trees."

"What trees? There's nothing but shrubs, weeds and rocks there!"

"But if he has the Market on the Communidade land then Nachinola and Olaulim villages will also benefit."

"So let them! As long as those mad Moidekars don't jump in. Their idea of traffic management involves just putting speedbreakers on main roads instead of feeder roads"

Let me interject at this point to explain a bit about how Aldona thinks.
Being an Aldonkar I am qualified to comment - even though they didn't invite me to the top secret meeting. We are open-minded and progressive. We Aldonkars don't detest the outsider. We welcome him with open arms. We go out of our way to make him comfortable. We don't care about the colour of his money, much less the colour of his skin. Meter for square meter more non-Aldonkars, non-Goans and foreigners have purchased land and property in Aldona than in any non-tourist village in Goa.

"How dare that columnist call the Pope a German Shepherd? He is indeed a shepherd to his flock and can't deny his nationality."

"He was referring to Ingo!"

"Oh!"

"We can tell Ingo that he needn't worry about providing employment to locals."

"Yes. Ingo can bring in his own people. There is no employment problem in Aldona. And we don't want any stalls either. We don't want to sell stuff, we want to buy stuff. There are enough vacant shops in every new building in Aldona for our people wanting to sell. Plus there's the Friday Market at
Mapusa for our local vendors."

"And our tourist taxi operators are a peaceful lot and don't demand giraik like those South Goan taxi drivers. There is a time for work and a time for play."

Another interjection from me for you to make sense of these secretly recorded and deciphered transcripts. As further proof that Aldonkars so like the outsider, chew on this. Not once has the Aldona Constituency elected an MLA from Aldona. Always from outside the village. We not only welcome and celebrate the outsider, we elect him - or her!

"Tell Ingo we don't want any local entertainment either. We get enough of that from television."

"Most of the younger generation Aldonkars are moving to the West anyway.
They need lots of exposure to the Western culture."

"I heard there's lots of exposure at the Market."

"You're a voyeur and a pervert!"

"What's a voyeur?"

"What about drugs?"

"Well a tola of good Manali hash will cost you about nine hundred...."

"No! No! I mean I heard that drugs are sold at the market."

"You think Ingo has time to sell drugs? He has to go around seeing that the market is humming well. You think someone wanting to buy or sell drugs has to come to a Saturday Market? Get real. This is the age of home delivery!"

"What about alcohol? Can we ask Ingo to give Aldonkars some discount on drinks?"

"Who don't need discounts? Aldonkars are rich. We have six nationalised banks all overflowing with fixed deposits. We could even finance the market if Ingo needs some help."

"Besides he was successful in Arpora. Like Aldona that also starts and ends with an 'a'"

"What we need is to get some nightlife here in Aldona."

"What we need is to get a life. Period.

------
The humour column above appeared in Gomantak Times
on November 24th 2005.
Pictures added by www.goa-world.com from NET RESOURCES.
======

Laundries, Laundromats and the Goan Dhobi

2008-03-23T03:56:00.000-07:00

Laundries, Laundromats and the Goan Dhobi

By Cecil Pinto

Bumped into this visiting Economics professor, Rebecca O'Leary from Dublin,
last week and she had some interesting observations about Goa. Of course a
layman like me could not fully comprehend what she was saying. I can never
understand why academics have to couch their opinions in arcane riddles
instead of just calling a spade a spade. Anyway, here is the rough
transcript of our conversation. Maybe you can make more sense of it than I did.

"Cecil, have you noticed the inordinate number of laundries in Goa,
especially on the coastal belt."

"Not really Rebecca, I haven't. We have a few laundries in Panjim, but I
rarely visit them. We have a dhobi who collects our clothes from home, and
of course a washing machine."

"Aha! The Goan dhobi. Are you happy with his services?"

"Sure! He's cheap!"

"And is he hardworking"

"Yes he is!"

"Does he make a lot of money?"

"Don't think so, Rebecca. He comes around on a cycle. But then he seems to
be quite happy with his lot. Why do you ask?"

"Tell me Cecil, who patronises laundries?"

"Rich people with a lot of good clothes, I suppose."

"So if you were very rich person from Delhi or Mumbai and had a lot of rich
friends who had a lot of dirty clothes would you open a laundry in Goa?"

"Why should they come to Goa to get their clothes laundered? Can't they
just go to the local laundry there in their city?"

"But Cecil they holiday in Goa so often. Besides, coming to Goa is so much
more romantic than going to a hole in the wall in some dirty city to get
your laundry done."

"So Rebecca, you mean all these laundries being opened on the beach belt
are by rich people from out of state to cater to their friends' dirty clothes?"

"Yes and no. In some cases their friends don't really have that many dirty
clothes but just want a place to chill out. So they open a laundromat.
You know what a laundromat is?"

"Hey! I might not be an academic but I'm not totally dumb you know. I watch
American TV serials. Sure I know what a laundromat is. People come in to
wash their clothes themselves. There are these huge washing machines - and
everything provided"

"You're missing the point Cecil. A laundromat, as opposed to a laundry,
fulfills a social function. It's a meeting place, a place to chat and meet
friends. The washing of clothes is incidental. In fact most people bring in
clothes that do not need any washing. They just want to be where it's all
happening. And if the beach is close by so much the better."

"So the rich people from the cities opening laundromats in Goa don't really
have dirty clothes, but just want to provide a chill-out place for
themselves and their friends?"

"Aha! Now you're getting it Cecil"

"But isn't that a very expensive proposition. I mean why can't they just
meet at somebody's house?"

"That is so passé. See it should not appear that they're just partying all
the time. There should be the appearance of being engaged is some business
enterprise. Preferably something to do with art or culture or cuisine or
hospitality."

"A laundromat is culture?"

"You don't get it do you Cecil?"

"No, Rebecca, I don't."

"Imagine the boring stockbroker meeting the sole all-India distributor for
fire extinguisher spare parts and the guy who inherited his father's fabric
dye factory. All of them filthy rich, with not much to do but impress each
other with their lifestyle achievements. "My wife's adding an extra 's' to
her name", "Yawn.", "My son's gay and my mistress got caught shoplifting",
"Yawn", "Gave my Skoda to the Deputy CM's niece and bought a Mercedes",
"Yawn". "Opening a laundry in Goa next week". "Huh! Really? Cool? Can we
jam up there?" Instant popularity.

"So what of it? Let them pamper their egos. No harm done."

"Not in the short term. Actually locals benefit. The laundromat owner is
not really bothered about making money. He pays good wages to local
employees. He brings money into the economy. He spends lavishly to impress
his friends, who reciprocate by spending even more."

"So what is the danger then, Rebecca?"

"See the economics of it. If you invest money in a laundry and can keep
sinking money in it and run it at a loss for a long time, eventually it
takes on a dynamic of its own and becomes a profitable enterprise. Any
business is like a gambling card game. The punter who has unlimited money
to wager, and a bit of common sense, will come out the winner eventually if
he has staying power and does not get bored."

"So what can the Goan dhobi do to protect his livelihood?"

"Not much actually, other than working hard and being innovative. He can
just hope they get bored eventually and don't take him to the cleaners
before that!"

-----
The humour column above appeared in Gomantak Times dated 10th November 2005.
Cecil Pinto can be contacted at cecilpinto@gmail.com
===

Tomazinho Cardozo's Play and Konglish

2008-03-23T03:55:00.000-07:00

Tomazinho Cardozo's Play and Konglish

Nov 18, 2005

At the very beginning let me state that I am not a theatre lover. In any
language. I much prefer movies as entertainment. But since I did go for
Tomazinho's play, The Verdict, just to see if he could successfully make
the transition from Konkani to English drama. I think it was brilliant
first attempt.

I had another appointment at 7.45 p.m. so I had to leave after watching
just about 40 minutes of the play, but what I saw was impressive. Later in
the night I phoned a friend who had watched the entire play and asked for
his opinion. He said that it was good except for the Goan accents and the
Goan English. I had noticed this too, but had seen it as a positive rather
than a negative. The play is set in Goa. The language the actors speak
naturally has to be Goan English and not some fake British or American
accent. Sure the English that we speak here is flawed. Our accents is Goan
and very often we literally translate from Konkani to English. So what of
it? That's the way we speak. And that's the way you can expect the
characters to speak in a play set in Goa.

In fact I would suggest to Tomazinho that in his future English plays to
introduce even more of these 'Goanisms' in the dialogue. And even throw in
Konkani words when appropriate. Even a non-Konkani speaking person will get
the gist of what was said. I don't see why we have to be apologetic about
the way we speak English and put on fake accents just because it is an
'English' play.

In Konkani tiatrs we see so much of English used and it does not seem at
all out of place. The main objective is entertainment and the ability to
convey a message - communication. As long as this is done I don't see why
there should not be plays with a heady mix of Konkani and Goan English that
everyone can understand and enjoy.

Looking forward to more entertainment from Tomazinho, Irene and the
enthusiastic Kala Mogi troupe. And hoping it will be in Konglish!

Cheers!

Cecil Pinto
cecilpinto@gmail.com

This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans is dedicated to Goans around the Globe and is moderated/edited by Gaspar Almeida (since 1994) and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website.

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"Konkani is a popular spoken language has a particular merit from the psychological and sentimental point of views. I don't see any conflict between Marathi and Konkani. They stand on different levels. Marathi is a very developed and it will go on. But from the point of view, nevetherless, of mass popular use Konkani is there and Konkani should be encouraged. I never had been able to understand this conflict between languages; between two developed languages"
- Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru.

Silly Season and the Selfish South

2008-03-23T03:53:00.000-07:00

Silly Season and the Selfish South
By Cecil Pinto

Silly Season, as a certain editor calls it, is upon us. People on the beach
belt and in the cities can see it. The non-tourist villages can read the
newspapers. Every year we see the cycle. First come the reports about how
many charters are booked for the season. Then the statistics of Indian
versus Overseas tourists. Following this the debates: Whether miserly
plumbers from UK are preferable to Trax full of alcohol imbibing Biharis or
big spending Russian mafia brutes with their sexy molls. A minor false
scare or two for the foreign tourists - stray dog bites, contaminated
water, molestation, planting of drugs... this year we can add 'garbage' to
the list. The River Princess has become so entrenched in our collective
memory that it is no longer considered a threat. Next the advertisements by
hotels for Continental and Tandoori cooks, musicians, waiters, activities
coordinators, vegetable & poultry suppliers and masseurs.

At Ground Zero extensive multi-cuisine menus are designed, re-designed and printed. So are vouchers, invoices, bill books, tariff cards and even feedback forms. Printing activity is almost as hectic as at election time, and equally prone to payment defaulters. Most hoteliers lament about
losses, however good the season has been. Supply deals are made for beverages and complimentary freezers. Garish vinyl signboards are replaced
with even larger, and more garish, vinyl signboards. The arguments for and
against rave parties begin and the relevance of a Madhya Pradesh Act,
regarding music, for a festive place like Goa is questioned. And finally,
the ultimate sign that Silly Season has actually begun. No, it's not the
arrival of the first charter. The annual 'Shack Allotment Controversy'
is the hands-down winner as the indisputable signal that the season has
arrived. Sarpanch versus MLA versus Panch versus Minister versus Locals
versus Last Year's Shack Owners versus Recently Self Appointed Social
Worker With Political Aspirations. The merry dance begins.

This year, strangely, the South Goa Tourist Taxi Association has jumped
their place in the queue and started agitating - before their allotted time
of beginning December. Their initial list of grievances demands not just
that hotels not be allowed to ferry their own guests in their own coaches
to and from the airport, but absolutely no sightseeing tours can be
conducted sans Tourist Taxis. My German friend Maxi is coming down
end-November. I guess I can't take him around on my motorcycle? The taxi
drivers also refuse to queue up outside hotels but will play cards and
carrom at home. The hotel has to call them up when there is a client and
politely ask if they wish to make a living.

Some few years back the South Goa Tourist Taxi Association drove down all
their Maruti Omni vans to Panjim and blocked the bridges to press for their
demands. Satellite photos of that time showed a strange glow in Panjim.
Whether it was from the white taxi tops or from the accumulated
belligerence is questionable. Since that failed they started stopping hotel
coaches and hammering up drivers. Next they began stoning coaches and even
manhandling the tourist passengers.

"We have loans to pay", they wail. "If tourism does not benefit the locals
then what is the point?". "The big hotels can make enough money from their
rooms, let us make some commission from Kashmiri handcraft shops at
least". "How come the North Goa Tourist Taxis don't have our problems?".
"How come they become friends and confidantes of the tourists and get nice
gifts and tips and dinners - and sometimes even a trip to Europe? Or even a
work or marriage offer abroad?". "What are we doing wrong? Why are we
determined to selfishly kill the golden goose for Rs. 8/- per kilometer
- and waiting charges?"

So many questions. So few answers.

In keeping with the Selfish South attitude I hear that the South Goa Shack
Owners Association is now demanding that all residential hotels can only
serve breakfast in their restaurants. Tourists have to have to have all
other meals in shacks and non-hotel restaurants. "We have bribes to
recover", they wail. "If tourism does not benefit the locals....". "How
come the tourist industry is vibrant in North Goa despite the airport
being in the South? Why are we paranoid about Mopa?".
"How do shacks, hotels, taxi drivers, pimps and MLAs peacefully co-exist in North Goa?". "We in the South have relatively uncrowded beaches, practically no drug problems or
aggressive ill-mannered Israelis. We have everything going for us. Why are
a few selfish taxi drivers strangling the cash cow?"

So many questions.

------
Cecil Pinto dabbles in advertising and flower selling - when not
writing and poking fun at himself and others.
------

The column above appeared in Gomantak Times on November 3rd 2005

One stroke solution for Mopa and Garbage

2008-03-23T03:51:00.002-07:00

One stroke solution for Mopa and Garbage

Tongue in Cheek
By Cecil Pinto

With the Mopa airport and the garbage issue hogging most of the news space I thought of a solution that would keep everyone happy. Specially the newspaper readers, who would prefer photos of that lovely Priyanka Bidye from the Konkani movie "Aleesha", rather than photos of piles of
accumulated garbage. I called a meeting with my friends Deshprabhu,
Churchill, Mickey, Mathany, Willy and Rane to convince them of my idea.

"See my idea is very simple. We let the Mopa airport come up as planned.
The only clause will be that the Government acquires an equal amount of
land at Mopa itself and uses it to for dumping and incinerating garbage."

While Deshprabhu and Rane were still reeling from shock Churchill was quick on the draw, "How will that help my... I mean the hotels in South Goa? Why will tourists come to South Goa when the airport is so far away?"

Jitendra snorted derisively, "Hotels, shmotels! You think tourists come
only to hotels which are close to airports? In that case Bogmalo would be
the most crowded beach in Goa. They go where they have planned to go. You think they care whether it's a half-hour ride or a one-hour ride from the airport?"

Rane joined in, "Indeed yes. The cheaper British charters will keep going
to the Calangute belt, however concretised it may be. The Israelis and
ravers will go to Anjuna from any airport. The rich Russians will go to
Cavelossim. The nirvana seekers to Palolem. The sun worshippers to Morjim. The Indian businessmen to Panjim. "

Mathany interjected, "Yes! The students from Tamil Nadu will keep drowning themselves in Colva and the young Indian lovers will continue committing suicide in Margao."

Churchill raised his voice, "These last people you mentioned don't come by
plane. They come by road or train. Whose side are you on anyway?"

Mathany calmly replied, "I'm in the middle. Even my constituency is in the
middle."

Mickey scoffed as he adjusted his bandana, "Yes! We all know how your ship sails with the wind."

Willy decided to use the opportunity, "Talking of ships we also know of
somebody who said that either the River Princess would go or he would. Ha!"

Deshprabhu was quick to jab, "Yes, dotor, we can see how you have been so
quick to solve the problem. Ha!"

By now Rane decided to exercise his authority. But since he seemed to
command none, he just said, "Boys, boys, let's stop this squabbling and
look at the solution". He turned to me and asked, "And won't the stench of
the garbage be a disgusting welcome for the tourists?"

"Well, consider this. Every passenger arriving at Mumbai airport is greeted with a top view of slums and then the stench of the city. And it never stops. At least at Mopa it will be just for a few minutes till they get out of the airport. Half an hour maximum if the custom officers are in an extra greedy mood. Unless of course the tourists are going to Vasco. Where they will get the smell again anyway. Vasco smelt bad even before the garbage problem. But seriously, the garbage dump can be located upwind of the airport. And be covered with a giant pandal. During Parrikar's tenure there were pandals being built for every conceivable occasion. All those pandal contractors now have no work. They will now get employment"

"What about transporting the garbage from all over Goa to Mopa. Have you calculated the costs involved?", asked Churchill, "You think we are going to use bullock carts to transport the garbage?

Mickey whispered in Churchill's ear, "Talking of bulls, just remember to
phone me later."

I decided to pursue the matter further, "Maybe we could use tourist taxi
cabs to transport the garbage?"

Everyone looked at me aghast.

"Well they have been transporting English charter trash for so many years
anyway. Ha! But jokes aside. See there are much too many tourist taxi vans
around. Specially in South Goa where they're terrorising the tourists and
hotels and forcing them to rent their vans. Can't blame them as they have
taken bank loans and have dreams of building RCC bungalows from their taxi earnings. That's never going to happen. So at least transporting garbage will give them a steady income. And once they get absorbed as permanent Government servants they can go back to their old ways. Have countless teas, play cards, gossip and not do diligently what they are paid to do - like most other lower level government servants."

Mickey had an idea, "And maybe we can even use that grand Skybus or
Monorail or whatever to transport garbage too?"

Deshprabhu, who had been pensive for a while asked, "Forget everything
else. Will the landowner, sorry landowners, in the area be adequately
compensated for their land being acquired for a garbage dump?"

I hesitated, "I had not thought of that but I see no problem. Why should
they be given anything less than the airport landowners?"

Jitendra beamed, "Then I see absolutely no reason why we should not go
ahead and..."

Rane broke in, "Maybe we could sell excess garbage dumping capacity to
Maharashtra?"

Now it was Willy's turn to beam, "I sold excess electricity once. I know
how to work out the deal."

The South Block seemed to be at a loss. But Mathany spoke up, "I will lead
an agitation of farmers who will be affected by this plan. I've not led an
agitation for such a long time that I'm getting bored."

"But there are no farmers in Mopa", wailed Deshprabhu.

"I'm talking about poultry farmers who use the garbage and manure for their fields. What will they do if you're taking it all to Mopa?", said Mathany.

"He has a point there" said Rane, "I think poultry farmers have to equally
compensated for loss of garbage."

Mickey butted in, "Talking of framers, what about farmers who rear bulls
for animal performances? How are they being compensated?"

Rane replied, "We are thinking of a pension plan for bull owners. Depending on how many years they have been doing this illegal activity. More years - bigger pension. So we are encouraging old bull owners to retire from bull fighting and making way for new blood. If you can't buy them off at least pension them off!"

Mathany enqured, "What about our people flying in from the Gulf? Why should they be inconvenienced?".

"Huh?", said Wilfred, "And for so many years our Gulfees from Bardez had to travel all the way from Dabolim. That time nobody complained? Anyway I suggest that the Dabolim airport be used exclusively for Shipees and Gulfees. And the state will provide a free taxi service for them. They bring in more money than tourism anyway. And we do absolutely nothing for them."

"Why are we speaking in English?", asked Churchill.

"Because this is an English magazine!", answered Deshprabhu.

"I don't care. I'm going to speak in Konkani", roared Churchill.

"But in what script?", asked Mathany.

"I always speak Konkani in Roman script", said Mickey.

Rane muttered something in Konkani. It is not printable here. Not because
it was not fit to print, but because he said it in the Devnagri script and
I can only type in Roman script on this keyboard.

-------
(Please note that all names used above are fictitious and if there are
people with similar names it is purely coincidental. Except of course for
Priyanka Bidye!)
-------

The column above appeared in the October 2005 issue of Goa Today magazine.

Is Goa underselling itself?

2008-03-23T03:51:00.001-07:00

Is Goa underselling itself?

Some weeks back V M de Malar wrote in Herald about Goa going the Bali way where the locals are outnumbered by the outsiders who own the hotels and a lot of the prime land.

I sent the article to, among others, my friend Justine Andrews, from the Isle of Wight, who has been holidaying in Goa every year for the past nine years. Here is her reaction. I quote with her permission.

- Cecil Pinto

--- quote ---

I think it's potentially a problem, but I'm not convinced that it will extend far beyond the beach belt and that encouraging long term commitment to the state and the country might help.

Better that someone is investing in Goa than no-one, but how to get the right sort of investment? Not sure I know the answer! Perhaps through the planning permission system - is there one? I think that there should be long term planning about tourism in Goa. I realise this sounds like me saying all tourists should be like us, but here goes.... We both fee that Goa under-sells itself to tourists. When we first came to Goa we stayed at the XXXXXX (Hotel name changed - Cecil) on a package, it wasn't cheap, but it was good value considering how far away we had come. The service from the staff was fantastic - very professional, but also friendly and welcoming. We went home describing Goa as affordable luxury. Our next visit
(two years later) confirmed our opinion, but over the years the standards of service went down. The "old hands" who had been there for years were still excellent, but newer staff weren't trained to the same standard and then they got rid of the staff who'd been there for a long time (too expensive). It wasn't that the service was bad, but they didn't make it extra special. We used to sit up in the bar before dinner, watching the sun go down. The drinks would be served with a small bowl of crispy nibbles and you never had to top your own glass up, later you got your glass and your beer/wine. It's not a big difference, but to me it's the difference between
5* and 3*. I feel that this coincided with the rise of the "all inclusive" holiday. These holidays tend to attract the beer and chips with everything type of holiday maker. When we heard a man who was a head teacher telling someone that he "didn't really like Indian food" that just about summed it up for me. At the end of our stay the reception staff felt the need to explain why our bill was so "high" (about £200 I think). We had had wine and had eaten at the not all inclusive restaurant and I had several ayurvedic treatments - we thought the bill was completely reasonable, but it seemed as though they were used to people getting upset at having to pay
anything at the end of their stay.
I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this - just rambling really - or whether I've really answered any of the points made, but I do feel that the industry should be playing up the "added value" side of things to encourage the sort of tourist who wants to appreciate Goa for what it is rather than just spending two weeks by the pool eating and drinking.

Justine

P.S.

Sorry I missed something out of my thoughts about "all inclusives". From what I understand it's the tour operators that make the money - the hotels actually lose out because they're not taking the money direct (e.g. our "huge" £200 hotel bill). So neither Goans or foreigners investing in Goa make the real money, but the tour operators in the U.K., Russia, Germany, where ever and they seem to be far less interested in what's good for Goa than (say) I would be if I'd just invested my life savings in a business there.
Ramble over

Justine

------- end quote ----

========

(Originally posted at The Goan Forum
www.yahoogroups.com/group/goa-goans )

The origins of the name 'Goa Powder'

2008-03-23T03:48:00.000-07:00

Cecil Pinto"
Subject: The origins of the name 'Goa Powder'
To: goaworldtoday@yahoo.com

http://www.ibiblio.org/herbmed/eclectic/kings/andira-arar.html

King's American Dispensatory.
by Harvey Wickes Felter, M.D., and John Uri Lloyd, Phr. M., Ph. D., 1898.

Araroba.—Goa Powder.
Related entry: Andira.—Cabbage Tree Bark - Chrysarobinum (U. S. P.)—Chrysarobin - Acidum Chrysophanicum.—Chrysophanic Acid
Other tomes

A powder obtained from cavities in the trunk of the Andira araroba, Aguiar.
Nat. Ord.—Leguminoseae.
COMMON NAMES: Goa powder, Bahia powder, Brazil powder, Ringworm powder, Chrysarobine, Chrysarobin (improperly so-called).

Botanical Source, History, and Description.—This drug must not be confused with Arariba rubra, a Brazilian plant, the bark of which was investigated by Rieth, in 1861, and has been used as a red dye for wool in its native country. Dr. Fayrer was the first to call attention to Goa powder in the Med. Times and Gaz., Oct., 1875, but was unable to give its origin, farther than that it reached Bombay through Goa on the Malabar coast, thus acquiring the name Goa powder, by which it is commonly known. Its source was kept secret for some time, and the powder was sold at exorbitant prices. In the same year (1875) E. M. Holmes called attention to the identity of araroba with goa powder, suggesting that it was probably produced by a species of Caesalpinia, and for some time his conclusion was generally accepted although not without reserve. Dr. J. M. de Aguiar, of Bahia (1879), published an article in pamphlet form upon this subject (Pharm. Jour. and Trans., July, 1879; also New Remedies, Sept., 1879) which lightened the mystery that had heretofore surrounded its source. He informs us that araroba is derived from a large intertropical tree, the ordinary height of which is 80 or 100 feet. It belongs to the Leguminoseae, and tribe of Dalbergieae, resembling, in some respects, Dalbergia miscolobium, Bentham, and Andira fraxifolia, Bentham. After having given a careful botanical description, the author concludes that the tree has been heretofore undescribed, and proposes for it, the name Andira araroba, Aguiar, "since the drupaceous fruit, panicled inflorescence, purple flowers, and other characters, clearly point to its being an Andira."

The araroba powder is obtained by cutting down the older trees, as they yield it in the greatest abundance, and then scraping the powder from cavities found by splitting the trunk into longitudinal sections. The tree contains an abundance of resin, by the oxidation of which, Dr. de Aguiar believes, the araroba is produced. When fresh, it is a pale primrose color, but by age, changes to the color of rhubarb, and, eventually, becomes dark-purple. The tree exists abundantly in all the southern part of the province of Bahia, although the powder now chiefly comes from Camamu and Taperoa. As found in commerce, this agent is in the form of a powder of different degrees of fineness, of a color ranging from light-yellow to dark-chocolate. It resembles the partly decayed matter occasionally observed in cavities of old trees and stumps, and is often mixed with irregular woody fragments. It is now fairly established that it is the partly decayed matter of the South American tree above mentioned, and thus, curiously enough, by the way of distant India, where it had been long used, this product of the South American forest was introduced to the medical profession.

Chemical Composition.—Araroba is remarkable for occasionally yielding from 80 to 85 per cent of chrysophanic acid, as shown by Attfield, in 1875, and, according to the same authority, the remainder of the powder examined consists of 7 per cent of a glucoside and bitter matter, 2 of a resinous substance, 5 1/2 of a red woody fiber, and 1/2 per cent of ash. The ashes consist chiefly of silicate of aluminum, and sulphates of potassium and of sodium. Prof J. U. Lloyd examined several specimens upon the market, and, in all cases, obtained a much smaller proportion of chrysophanic acid than stated by Mr. Attfield. Therefore, he concluded that Attfield must have procured an unexceptionally rich specimen of araroba, or that which reached this country was very inferior. Araroba readily yields chrysophanic acid to benzin. When heated in a suitable vessel, a sublimate is obtained, which, doubtless, consists largely of the aforementioned acid, as it is colored red by alkalies in solution. Araroba is chiefly employed for the preparation of chrysophanic acid (which see). Liebermann and Siedler, are authority for the statement that chrysophanic acid does not exist ready-formed in araroba, but is formed by oxidation of a natural constituent, to which they give the formula C30H26O7, and the name Chrysarobin (previously applied to araroba).

Action, Medical Uses, and Dosage.—In the Indies this agent has been employed for the removal of taenia solium, and in the treatment of certain cutaneous maladies. Attfield, Fayrer, Da Silva Lima, Squire, Hebra, Bernier, Blanc, Thin, and many other medical men have successfully employed this powder in the treatment of herpes circinatus, porrigo scutulata, porrigo decalvans, sycosis, favus, psoriasis, eczema, lichen, acne, and other diseases of the skin. The powder is mixed with vinegar or lemon juice to form a thin, pasty mass, or is well incorporated with glycerin or starch paste, and then applied over the eruption once or twice a day, for from 5 to 8 days successively, in which period of time the cure is generally affected. Its application causes, after some length of time, a temporary uneasy sensation in the part to which it is applied, the eruption assumes a whitish appearance, and the surrounding tegument presents the appearance as of a dark stain; as the cure progresses, the skin assumes its normal color. For internal use, it may be taken in the form of pills, made by incorporating it with medicinal soap. For external application, it may be used as above stated, by means of a small brush, or a tincture of the powder may be painted upon the affected parts. It may be also used in the form of an ointment, consisting of from 15 to 60 grains of the powder, from 15 to 30 drops of acetic acid, all thoroughly mixed with an ounce of benzoinated lard. At the present time, however, chrysophanic acid and chiefly chrysarobin (which see) are used in preference to the goa powder.

Home - Herb FAQs - Articles - Classic texts - Archives - Links I like - Pictures - Plant names

At 06:38 AM 28-06-05 -0700, you wrote:

Discovery may hold hope for psoriasis sufferers

Scientists at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne, studying the effects of a drug used in the treatment of a distressing skin condition, have found that it is actually killing off the cells which are the cause of the problem.
The team believe the discovery represents a major step towards enabling the design of better treatments for psoriasis, which affects up to a million people in the UK alone (figures from the Psoriasis Association).

The results of the Wellcome Trust-funded study of the drug, dithranol, are published in the Journal of the Federation of American Societies for Experimental Biology (FASEB).
Dithranol, which is widely used in the treatment of psoriasis, is derived from a natural compound, called chrysarobin. Chrysarobin is prepared from the araroba tree found in the rain forests of the Amazon. In India, the same substance is known as Goa powder.
(Posted by http://www.goa-world.com on Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter archived at:

http://www.goa-world.com )

My beer cap overfloweth

2008-03-23T03:45:00.000-07:00

My beer cap overfloweth

"Shall I open another beer dear?"

The first time I heard these magical words were some two months back. Since then I have heard them so often that I have to share the good news with all of you. Here's where it all began.

It was a Sunday afternoon. I was having my regular Sunday afternoon beer at my parents' place in Aldona while watching TV. I was just starting on my second glass when my wife Beatrice walks in and asks, ""Shall I open another beer dear?".

I willingly accepted, but found this query most strange. This is the woman who has consistently, for the last nine years, tried to force me to have less booze than I would like - whatever the quantity. If I decide to have a second peg of Caju Feni she will insist that one is quite enough. If I decide that I could do with a second beer she will sound suitably shocked that I finished an entire (650ml) beer myself so fast, and will immediately serve me a meal so I can't drink anymore. I don't normally drink after meals.

I checked the date on my watch. Was it April Fool? No. Was it my birthday? No. Was it her birthday? No. Our wedding anniversary? No. Not being one to count the teeth of a gift horse, I resigned myself to the tenacious possibility that maybe she had decided to enthusiastically accept what she cannot change. So I did not question Beatrice when she generously refilled my second glass of beer.

Now one would think that whole incident was uncharacterestic enough for one day.
Hardly had I sipped this my third glass of beer, and congratulated myself on this extraordinary change of attitude, my Mum walks in and asks, "Would you like some more beer?". Hello! What's happening here. This is the woman who for my entire adult life had been telling me to cut down on my alcohol consumption. And here she was actually offering me more beer? This could not be happening. This could not be true.
Now I smelt a rat.

Warily I replied "Sure. Why not!", just to see what would happen, and sure enough my Mom walks in with a freshly opened beer and fills my glass to the brim. Mom actually tilted my glass and poured from the side of the glass so I got maximum liquid and less froth. How unlike normal. This was beginning to sound like a day dream which would end all to soon. I actually pinched myself to make sure it was not a dream. It wasn't. The chilled beer was exquisite.

Casually I ventured into the kitchen where Beatrice and my Mom were preparing lunch. Both of them had a full beer glass each standing near their respective cutting boards. I cursorily examined the beer glasses. Sure on an occasional Sunday they would have a dash of a tiny glass of wine or a little 'shandy'. But this was pure beer and not a soft-drink with a hint of beer, which was what a normal 'shandy' at my house comprised of. I opened the fridge to see one entire shelf stacked with about ten beers. Except on festive occasions, or when guests were expected, I don't recall a time at my parents house when there were more than two beers ever in the fridge. What was happening here?

I asked my Mum what was all this beer consumption about and was very quickly educated. Apparently Belo beer had a scheme going. Under each Belo beer cap is a prize. From a minimum of a guaranteed Rs. 2/-, one can win Rs. 5/-, Rs. 10/-, a 325 ml beer, a 650 ml beer, Rs. 10,000/- and even Rs. 50,000/-. But I knew this all along. The difference being that a local Aldona boy had recently won Rs. 10,000/-. And everyone seemed to be getting at least two beers and quite some cash back in every crate. So everybody in Aldona was enthusiastically drinking Belo beers these days.

And the enthusiasm got carried from Aldona to my flat in Miramar. For the last few weeks not only is Beatrice encouraging me to drink beer she actually goes to the wine shop with the empties and picks up a new Belo crate once the previous one is over. Of course she insists on opening the bottles herself and I do not deny her that little pleasure. She encourages me to get beer-drinking pals over. I get a chilled glass of beer handed over to me when I return home from work. I have my wife sharing beer with me occasionally - just so much so it justifies opening one more bottle for me. I'm not complaining. I'm rejoicing.

And I'm inviting you all over for some beer.

Cheers!
Cecil

Jun 8, 2005
__________

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter is moderated by AlmeidaG(ji) since 1994, and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website. Any and all postings from Goans are welcomed - be it a Goan business enterprise, a Goan event/programme of cultural heritage, or of a personal nature. This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter is dedicated to Goans around the Globe. http://www.goa-world.com/ Team and founders are always the first to get you in the limelight - in the field of sports, politics, social, cultural, educational, other actitivity(ies) or to the benefit of Goans and Goa via its news services from professional journalists and supporters based in Gulf countries and as far as the Americas. Thanks for the support to Goa and Goans.

View this short film:
http://www.JourneyOfAttraction.com

Captan Kirk observes a Goan picnic

2008-03-23T03:35:00.000-07:00

Tongue in Cheek
- By Cecil Pinto

Captan Kirk observes a Goan picnic

Captain's Log Stardate 05-05-2005.
Observation of Social Customs: Large Goan Group Picnics.
Location: Baga Beach, Bardez, Goa
Local terms only initially in parenthesis ( ).

I observe an open commercial van (tempo) approaching. Tempo normally
used for carrying coconuts, sand, beat group equipment etc. Currently filled
with approximately 30 odd human specimens of both genders and varied ages.
In all probability members of the St. Sebastian Chapel of Grande
Naikavaddo in Siolim or similar. Nature of group can be identified by picnic
songs sung. This group is singing traditional folksongs (mandos), old Konkani
radio songs and upbeat hymns. The Maddel Friends Eleven Cricket Club
would be singing Hindi pop songs and playing the friendly Indian mindless
singing game of I'm-out-of-lyrics-you-take-over (antakshiri). The Ribandar
Parish Youth Association would be singing English pop songs and would have an
electronic synthesizer and amplified accompanying music.

The picnickers disembark from the tempo and proceed to carry towards
the coconut shaded area the following objects: 2 large steel food
containers (hundis), 60 loaves of bread (unde), 5 kilos of assorted fresh
vegetables, 2 plastic 20 litre gallons containing drinking water, 1 pumping-type
kerosene stove (prim-e-stov), 7 mats (shendris), 8 bedsheets (bedxeetan), 1
football, 18 plastic disposable cups, 6 steel tumblers, 9 plastic bottles
containing 2 litres each of flavoured aerated water, and 1 hard rubber
throwing ring (tenniquoit). In addition to this individuals carry their own
change of clothing, towels and alcoholic refreshments - the exact
quantities are impossible to quantify. The 30 picnickers had now
mysteriously swelled to about 45 with a few having come on their own
two-wheelers and the honourable group leader (sponsor) and his family
having emerged from the tempo driver's cabin.

The youngsters immediately start a game of 'Twos and Threes'. This
consists of pairs forming a circle and one pair (chaser and chasee) touch
tagging each other till the chasee is exhausted and rockets into the front of a
standing pair expelling the back partner who now becomes the chasee.
Twos and Threes is the standard opening game at all Goan picnics and is a
good icebreaker as well as providing an outlet for teeming teen libido. This
is usually followed by a game of 'Dog and The Bone' which provides similar
sensory satisfaction but because of the permanent nature of the
coupling sometimes causes lots of teasing on the return journey (eg. singing
Joklo nachta, Patsy nachta, kai borem dista).

Some of the more hormonal young males have now decided to play football
on the beach and they are joined in this endeavor by the more adventurous
(freak-out) of the young females. If a non-aggressive male (baizuan)
joins the football team he is immediately made the goalkeeper (goalie) and in
probability will display gay tendencies in later life. The freak-out
females will later venture into the water to be taught swimming by the same
hormonal males. These swimming lessons have no educational value as
neither the teachers nor the students have the study of swimming on their mind.
The gender imbalance in this activity in fact makes the female student
appear like an octopus when viewed from underwater as she is surrounded by
roving tentacles. The non-freak-out young females toss around the tenniquoit
and pretend to be enjoying themselves while actually watching the swimming
lessons enviously. These harmless coming-of-age activities are watched in
good humour by the adults on the beach, none of whom learnt how to swim
either.

These adults are strictly divided on a gender basis. The males sit an
inward facing circle on the spread out (pattoyed) shendris and drink a
light alcoholic distillate made from the juice of the caju fruit (urrack)
mixed with an aerated flavoured drink (limca) from steel tumblers. They
play a card game involving thirteen cards (mandicort) and not much
thinking. Cursing local politicians in particular, and government servants
in general, is the staple fare of the conversation. The females proceed to
pump up and fire the prime-e-stov and start heating the huge hundis that
contain a chicken stew (xacuti) with a lot of coconut stock and a yellow
coloured rice (pulao). The younger among the adult females start cutting
the vegetables to make a fresh salad (saalaad) under the constant
supervision and criticism of the older adult females.

Please note at this point that changing into, and from, bathing
costumes is done differently by males and females. The males wrap a towel around
their waist and with deft movements from underneath manage to make the
changeover. For the females it is a group activity with a small circle of
females holding up bedxeetan to make a temporary changing room.
Sometimes the side of a sand-docked shipping boat is used as a visual barrier but
not always effectively.

Bathing costumes for males consist of the current underwear. Baizuans wear
shorts over their underwear. Young females wear shorts and a t-shirt over
their undergarments. Older females wear either a cotton dress (veestid) or
a cotton sari (kapod). None of the latter are effective for swimming, but
then at Goan picnics just dipping one's feet in the water, or wading till
waist high waves, is referred to as swimming. In fact for the elders the
main purpose of 'swimming' is to urinate covertly under cover of water
while keeping up a strict countenance. The urine to seawater ratio at Baga
beach is the highest in the world according to the National Institute of
Oceanography. Non-swimming males urinate at bottom of nearest tree,
bush or wall. Non-swimming females go in groups to the toilet of the nearest
restaurant. The last sighting of a Goan female going alone to a public
toilet was in 1971.

By now the fresh vegetable salaad is ready and the xacuti and pulao are
heated enough and all are called to eat. A short prayer is said in
thanksgiving as well as for a safe return journey. The prayer is led by the
sponsor in Konkani. His wife, who probably is originally from Saligao,
starts of the accompanying hymn in English. Lunch is served in disposable
paper plates. Everyone eats with their bare hands except for the sponsor's
wife who insist on a spoon. Food, plastic and paper waste is dumped on the
nearest rubbish heap despite there being clearly labeled segregated garbage
cans present.

After lunch everyone reverts to their pre-lunch activities except for
alcohol consumption. One middle aged male insists on continuing drinking
and does so despite frowns and threats from all the elders and the females.
He eventually ends up throwing up on the return journey of the tempo and
this will be a much talked about event for many weeks to come, much to the
embarrassment of his young wife. Some of the older young males go behind
some bushes and return back half an hour later coughing and with red faces.
Their amateurish attempts at the manly art of cigarette smoking have been
entirely successful though most of them didn't really inhale. The females
who were earlier involved in preparing the food now converge in a separate
group on pattoyed shendris and gossip about those who could not make it
for the picnic, and the inconvenience caused by the change in the Sunday
Mass timings.

It is now past sunset and the entire group of picnickers are waiting with
their paraphernalia at the side of the road. Everyone is cursing the
alcoholic tempo driver who has not stuck to his timing. The tempo arrives
with an obviously inebriated driver who has managed to pick up a friend
along the way, which fact is protested by the sponsor's wife because it
means two of her children will now have to ride in the back of the open
tempo with the ordinary people. The tempo now takes off with a screeching
of rubber. One can hear the youngsters protesting against some Philu Aunty
about the appropriateness of starting a rosary recitation when a mando
medley would be more in keeping with the mood of the moment. The
exhausted youngsters loose the argument against the adamant Philu Aunty.

Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, recording.

-------
The column above appeared in the May 2005 issue of Goa Today magazine.
-------

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter is moderated by AlmeidaG(ji) since 1994, and presented by Ulysses Menezes, owner of http://www.goa-world.com website. Any and all postings from Goans are welcomed - be it a Goan business enterprise, a Goan event/programme of cultural heritage, or of a personal nature. This first of its kind Gulf-Goans e-newsletter is dedicated to Goans around the Globe. http://www.goa-world.com/ Team and founders are always the first to get you in the limelight - in the field of sports, politics, social, cultural, educational, other actitivity(ies) or to the benefit of Goans and Goa via its news services from professional journalists and supporters based in Gulf countries and as far as the Americas. Thanks for the support to Goa and Goans.

Random Thought:
"The character of a man is known from his conversations"

It's my life ............ (by Cecil Pinto)

2008-03-23T03:33:00.001-07:00

Transcript of one side of a phone conversation between Cecil Pinto from
Panjim and his lawyer friend Noel D'Cruz from Margao.

-----
"Hello Noel. Good morning!
How's married life treating you?
Any good news for us?"

"What?
Not even on weekends?
Throughout Lent? How boring.
I'm sure the Good Lord said 'celebrate' and not 'celibate'!
Anyway here's why I called.
You heard about the Terri Schiavo case? You have?
Good! She died you know. Pity indeed. Yes. I agree.
A personal family decision should not be made a political tool and a media circus.
Not just that. Now we have the Pope's Living Will for all to read in the papers.
It says that he should be kept alive under any circumstances.
Yes Noel. Praise the Lord. Whatever. Sure!
Sure! Whatever. But can I make a Living Will? Just in case..."

"I can? Wow! What? Say that again, slowly.
A Living Will allows a person to explain in writing which medical treatment
he or she does or does not want during a terminal illness?
Ok! That part I understand And whaaaat? Slowly man.
It will take effect only when I am incapacitated and can no longer express my wishes?
Exactly! That's what I want. You got a pen?

"I, Cecil Pinto, being of relatively sound mind and sparingly used body,
hereinafter... What? Sure you're the lawyer. I know that.
But can't I also use some legal terms while giving you my instructions?
That's your job? Ok!
But keep in mind that I know a lot of legal language. Everybody thinks they
do? Really?
Do they watch Ally McBeal and The Practice and... No! No!
I don't think I know more than you. Cool it man. Ok.
No more of me trying to sound legal. That's what you're being paid to do!"

"Well basically I want that if I'm terminally ill my case be given a lot of
publicity. Contact all the TV stations and make sure they get close-ups of
me in a coma. Make sure I become a household name.
No! Not like a detergent you smartass.
You lawyers should read stuff other than just your fat legal tomes.
It's just a phrase. Once my name is on everyone's lips my wife can
make crores selling the book and movie rights to the story of my life, once
they pull out the plug. This sounds really cool.
People are going to sit in air-conditioned theatres and watch the details
of my totally mediocre existence? Ha! Can I insist that Shah Rukh Khan plays me?
No? Salman Khan?
No? John Abraham? No? What you mean? I've been exercising these days you
know. No way Johnny Lever is going to play me!

"Sure I'm digressing. It's my life we're talking about. You want me to live
like a vegetable? Watching some monitor flickering, liquids going inside
me, being waited on hand and foot. What? How dare you say that.
My average late night is not always like that! Some days I shut off the TV
and surf the Net."

"Would you rather I remained a vegetable? Me? The guy who has beef even on
Friday's during Lent season. The original pure non-veg man. That reminds
me. If they're going to be feeding me through tubes I want non-veg meals.
I really want to pig out in my last days. Tasty fatty stuff. High calories.
High cholesterol. Sorpatel, Beef Roast, the works! Try O'Coqueiro.
Pay? Me?
Sure they will deliver free. Look at the publicity they'll get! By the way
do you know if they have separate tubes for liquids? Can I have some Caju
Fe... No?
Beer at least? No? C'mon beer is not alcohol. Don't give me that
crap. Let me die at peace with myself and a smile on my face. Speaking of
which can I insist on only sexy young female nurses attending on me in my
comatose condition?
Just think of it Noel. All my life I fantasized about sexy women clustered
round my bed giving me their undivided attention. So what if I can't enjoy it?
My friends will be watching on TV and going crazy with envy.
You included. Never? Ha! All freshly married men say that.
Just you wait a few years."

"If my Medical Insurance doesn't cover private hospitalisation, and I have
to put up at Goa Medical College, can I just add that even if I'm not so
incapacitated I still want tubes to take things out of my body. Why?
You just try entering the toilets at GMC and not throwing up immediately."

"Noel, what I want to get clear is I don't want to be a boring burden on
other people. What? Cut the sarcasm. I behaved like that at your party last
November? Well what do you expect.
You don't serve alcohol at your birthday and expect me to be the life of the party?
Get real pal, I need lubricants.
And that Aunty sitting next to me was much more closer to being a vegetable
than me. What do I care if she owns her own room at that retreat place in
Kerala.
Did she get a maidservant finally? No wonder. Who wants to listen
to a stuck record all....Anyway where were we?"

"Proxy. You mean the person who pulls out the plug?
The person who executes my Living Will? Isn't that the same?
Did you have to say that word - executes? My wife of course.
Unless she needs me around to help with the e-mailing. Yes.
Come to think of it that's pretty much all I do. Can a brain dead person send e-mail?
Huh? Verrrry funny Noel. You're so sarcastic today you might die of acidity before me.
You should have a TV comedy show of you own. Let's get back to the serious stuff."

"Since the plug is going to be pulled anyway can't I take out a large Life
Insurance Policy just before that?
I know an agent who will do anything. He even pays the first two premiums.
Unethical? A lawyer talking about ethics?
You almost had me fooled Noel. You're serious? This Lent abstinence has
screwed up your brains!"

"What you mean Indian Penal Code. They have something about euthanasia?
How very interesting.
Five years back Laloo was asked by a BBC correspondent on his views on
euthanasia and he spoke a whole fifteen minutes about the Youth in Asia
before they could change the topic."

"You can't pull out the plug? Against your religion?
Well actually with the frequent power failures here in Goa maybe that too
will not need an executor."

"How will you know I'm really permanently incapable of deciding for myself?
If I don't react to important things of course. What's important? Well try
this. Tell me Sex and the City is on in five minutes and see if my hand
reaches for the remote control button.
Or just mention there's an India-Pakistan cricket match being shown live.
Or better still Noel, get that sexy Mallika Sherewat female to run in slow
motion in front of my hospital bed.
If I don't react to that then not only my brain, but all my other organs
must be dead. What's the point in living like that?"

------
The article above by Cecil Pinto appeared in the 9th April issue of Gomantak Times
===

The Death of the Holy Father
http://frpat.com/jpii/jpiimenu.htm

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter
http://www.goa-world.com/

The Goan Forum
http://www.colaco.net/

“Maie mogan nomoskar, mozo noman. Maka khuxalkai bogta tumche sangata missachi bhett somorombunk.” (I offer you my greetings of love. I am happy to partake in this eucharistic celebration with you) - Pope John Paul's introductory speech in Konkani during his visit to Goa in February 1986.

Postage Calculator

2008-03-23T03:29:00.000-07:00

Postage Calculator

Postage Calculator
If you are posting something from India to anywhere in the world
you don't have to stand in line and enquire from some uninformed rude always-busy postal clerk about how much the postage will
work out to.
Just click on the link below and get the figure yourself.
It's quite comprehensive and self explanatory.

The problem you will incur is when you have the correct figure
and go to your local uninformed rude always-busy postal clerk,
who doesn't know that Indian Postal Service has such comprehensive posting options, and he doesn't know quite how to do the calculations for your specific requirements himself!

http://www.indiapost.gov.in/PostageCalculator.html

Cecil Pinto News-You-Can-Use Service

This posting is courtesy of:

The Goan Forum
http://www.colaco.net

Interestingly Goa is listed under Maharastra !

The first 2 digits of PIN indicates as below:

First 2 Digits of PIN Circle
11 Delhi
12 and 13 Haryana
14 to 16 Punjab
17 Himachal Pradesh
18 to 19 Jammu & Kashmir
20 to 28 Uttaar Pradesh
30 to 34 Rjasthan
36 to 39 Gujarath
40 to 44 Maharastra
45 to 49 Madhya Pradesh
50 to 53 Andhra Pradesh
56 to 59 Karnataka
60 to 64 Tamil Nadu
67 to 69 Kerala
70 to 74 West Bengal
75 to 77 Orissa
78 Assam
79 North Eastern
80 to 85 Bihar

--- Forwarded by http://www.goa-world.com/

Our Family Portrait session

2008-03-23T03:24:00.002-07:00

Our Family Portrait session
with Alex Fernandes at Portrait Atelier
Mar 1, 2005

I first met Alex Fernandes sometime last November when he was in the process of setting up his portrait studio, Portrait Atelier. A nice natured easy going guy, Alex had retired young from his job at Kodak in Kuwait where he set up and managed a high end professional portrait studio, and was very enthusiastic about his project - a specialist "portraits-only" service here in Goa. Alex had honed his craft over the last twenty years with stints that included training at Broncolor in Switzerland and as faculty for portrait and lighting workshops conducted for Kodak.

Going through his brochure in-the-making I realised that this was no flash in the pan idea and that Alex had carefully outlined exactly what services he would provide and how much he would be charging. At that time I found his rate of Rs. 3,000/- for a 'basic' portrait session a bit expensive. He would be giving only 3 prints of 8" x 12" size. But then Alex explained that he would be also giving the client a CD with high resolution JPG files of the entire shoot and so one could take as many prints as one wanted later. But still too expensive for my liking. Like most amateur photographers I didn't see the point in paying someone for professional services when I could do quite a good job myself with my rudimentary camera.

In mid-Feb I met up with Alex again and he insisted that I bring the family over to his studio for a photo-shoot. "Too expensive!", I said. He was running a promotional campaign in February where he would shoot you free of cost and you paid only for the prints of the frames you selected. Alex uses a high end Nikon Digital SLR. I spoke to my wife Beatrice and she was keen on the idea. You see we have friends and relatives all over the world and they send us beautiful portrait photos of their families shot in professional studios and all we have is our amateur photos to send back. And a nice big framed studio portrait would look nice in the apartment too. At least it would take away from little Fabian's crayon scribbling on the wall.

So I fixed up an evening date with Alex at his studio in close by Caranzalem. We decided to go in casual clothes. I phoned Alex to find out if this was ok. He said we could bring in a change of formal clothes too if we wanted. He has converted an apartment next door to his shop into a studio with ample place for changing etc.

After a lot of discussion Beatrice and me decided that we would just get ourselves shot in casual clothes. We took a change of tops for ourselves and the boys and trooped of for our studio date with Alex.

Beatrice: "Why don't you put some powder on?"

Cecil: "Why? I'm not ashamed of being dark!"

Beatrice: "But you sweat so much and your face shines and looks oily."

Cecil: "I'm not ashamed to be oily. What's wrong with oily? This is a portrait. If I'm oily I'm oily. That's the way I look. And your brother is darker than me. There!"

Beatrice:"He's not dark. He's just tanned. Unlike you his works is mostly outdoors."

Cecil:"Sure! If he's tanned then I'm tanned too. See my buttocks. They're fair. Look!"

Beatrice: "Cecil! The children are around. Stop being stupid!"

Cecil:"Ok! Who cooks in the house?"

Beatrice:"I do. So what?"

Cecil:"You use too much oil while cooking. That's why my face looks oily."

Beatrice: "I do not! You were oily when I first met you!"

Cecil:"I should have married Tina. She doesn't make oily biryanis"

Beatrice:"You should have married a plastic surgeon!"

Cecil: "Sure!"

Beatrice: "Well I'm putting some lipstick though."

Cecil: "Besides dark people look like ghosts when they put on powder"

Beatrice: "Uhhhh. Uhhhh. Forget the powder thing dear."

Cecil: "And some dark people even glow purple when they use too much powder."

Beatrice: "Uhhhh. Uhhhh."

Cecil: "Did you see Lily Aunty's daughter at Danny's wedding? She had so much powder on that she looked like a anaemic Russian."

Beatrice:"That's not powder. That's foundation."

Cecil:"Whatever. She had too much of it on. Totally artifical! Talking of artificial
how old is that Marge's daughter. Didn't she just answer her SSC. Isn't she rather big built for her age?"

Beatrice: "Are you going where I think you're going?"

Cecil: "Naaaah! Let's not go there again. Fabian! Don't remove those sandals. And
Desmond you get that helmet off now. Right now!"

So there we were, a few minutes later, at Alex's studio, Portrait Atelier, which I think means 'portrait workshop' in French. No sooner we entered our brats Desmond and Fabian started their antics of wanting to go home. Quick as a shot Alex conjured up some chocolates and offered them to our greedy imps and sure enough the trick worked and they were his friends for life! Alex Uncle could tell them to hold still while he did his settings and they would do it. Dada could yell his lungs out and they just ignored him. For two Cadbury chocolates. Talk about loyalty to parents!

Alex posed us, adjusted his studio lights and started shooting. It was quite a pleasant experience with Alex cajoling and coaxing and joking and getting us to smile and grin at times and be serious at times. We were finished in less than forty minutes despite changing tops in between. Alex must have shot about a 100 frames.

Next he took us to his laptop where he instantly downloaded the photos for us to have a look. And that's where the magic happens. We looked great! I never imagined that anyone could make us look so good. Beatrice just looked at me behind Alex's back and nodded her head approvingly. That look told me what I wanted to know. "Paisa vassool", "Poishe bholle", "Money's worth". I paid up willingly, and chose the frames of which I wanted prints.

The next day Alex gave me a CD with high resolution photos of the entire shoot. It also contained a folder with some 35 odd selected photos which he had run through his amazing software to tweak the images to perfection. And he gave us 3 glossy big prints that we have put in a special album and show around proudly - and make a lot of other families absolutely envious. Money well spent indeed.

I have uploaded a few of our studio photos at
http://www.goa-world.com/goa/pintofamily/

Please check them out. Click on the extra large thumbnails for bigger images. Keep in mind that these are low resolution images that have been down sized, re-sampled and compressed by me for the Internet. What Alex gave us on CD are much, much higher resolution crystal clear images and can be printed even upto A3 poster size with absolutely no loss of clarity.

For the month of March Alex is running a 50% discount on all his portrait packages. Portrait Atelier does not have a website yet but you can contact Alex at or on 2461540 or 9822152710.

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

CMs of Goa - chronology and comment

2008-03-23T03:24:00.001-07:00

CMs of Goa - chronology and comment
- by Cecil Pinto cpinto@sancharnet.in

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Historian Prajal Sakhardande, in his column "Pages from the Past" in today's Navhind Times, has an interesting chronology of the Chief Ministers of Goa. I have made a synopsis of his column in a tabular format below and added some comments of my own. I'm not much of a political analyst but I hope some Cyber Goans will be able to shed more light on these illustrious people who have sat on the 'kodel', and perhaps answer my questions about the events that surrounded some of the change-overs. Forgive my ignorance.

19/12/1961 Liberation.
What form of Government was existent till the results of the first election?
Military rule? How long did Major General Candith remain in power? When did Governor Tumkur Shivshankar take over?
20/12/1963 - 02/12/1966 Dayanand Bandodkar (Bhau - highly revered first CM)
Bandodkar never contested the first elections but became CM and later stood for elections.
Opinion Poll.
What form of Government was existent during this four month period? Was Bandodkar running a caretaker Government? Why did the Opinion Poll have to disrupt an elected party's tenure?
05/04/1967 - 23/03/1972 Dayanand Bandodkar
23/03/1972 - 12/08/1973 Dayanand Bandodkar
Dayanand Bandodkar expired. Is it true he had a heart attack while playing Table tennis at Panjim Gymkhana? I though he was a cricket enthusiast.
Does a new CM have to be sworn in immediately by law, or is this just convention?
12/08/1973 - 07/06/1977 Shashikala Kakodkar (Taee - only woman CM till date)
07/06/1977 - 27/04/1979 Shashikala Kakodkar
Why this 8 month gap? Is this the time Rane and some others broke away from the MGP? Did they join the Congress or form their own party?
Is it true Rane is of Rajput descent? When did the Ranes come to Goa?
What exactly is their claim to royalty?
16/01/1980 - 07/01/1985 Pratapsingh Raoji Rane (Rane - most often CM) 07/01/1985 - 30/05/1987 Pratapsingh Raoji Rane Statehood.
Did Rane have to be sworn in again because Goa became a State?
30/05/1987 - 09/01/1990 Pratapsingh Raoji Rane 09/01/1990 - 27/03/1990 Pratapsingh Raoji Rane What happened here? Is this where the "defection culture" started?
The short lived Progressive Democratic Front (PDF) Government was formed here or later?
27/03/1990 - 14/04/1990 Churchill Alemao (Churchill - dramatic Strongman of the South)
Is it true that kept his word and vacated the CM's chair, or was he forced to quit?

14/04/1990 - 14/12/1990 Luis Proto Barbosa (Barbose - Speaker turned CM)
President's Rule.
How did the PDF government fall?
25/01/1991 - 18/05/1993 Ravi Naik (Popular Champion of the Bhandari Samaj)
18/05/1993 - 02/04/1994 Wilfred D'Souza (Dotor Willy - Egoistic manipulator)
02/04/1994 - 08/04/1994 Ravi Naik
From what I hear, in these six days a record number of land conversions were authorised and crores of rupees changed hands - including Gubernatorial. Banu Prakash Singh was the Governor at the time. Public memory is short.
08/04/1994 - 16/12/1994 Wilfred D'Souza
16/12/1994 - 29/07/1998 Pratapsingh Raoji Rane
29/07/1998 - 23/11/1998 Wilfred D'Souza
Who ruled for these three days? Why the gap?
26/11/1998 - 08/02/1999 Luizinho Faleiro (Luizinh - Rags to riches through Unions and Politics)
President's Rule.
09/06/1999 - 24/11/1999 Luizinho Faleiro
24/11/1999 - 24/10/2000 Francisco Sardinha (Sardinha - Charismatic King Momo with panache)
24/10/2000 - 03/06/2002 Manohar Parrikar (Parrikar - "I am the State", RSS dictator)
03/06/2002 - 02/02/2005 Manohar Parrikar
02/02/2005 - present Pratapsingh Raoji Rane.

___
Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you're a mile away and you have their shoes.

Konkani Drama "NOORA" by Micheal D'Silva under the auspices of United Friends Club-Kuwait on 8th April 2005. For details, cajdesan@yahoo.com

Pick of the week: http://www.colaco.net/1/EthelSting.htm
http://www.geocities.com/mangaloreancatholic/woc/

Goa's finest websites:
www.colaco.net www.supergoa.com www.goa-world.com

Celebrate in Style.... Greet Someone You Love Back Home in Goa with Fresh Flowers Email: expressions@apexmail.com
www.goa-world.com/expressions/

Konkani weekly V-Ixtt now online at www.v-ixtt.com
Konkani monthly magazine now online at www.gulabonline.com

Konkanifying Hollywood Movies

2008-03-23T03:23:00.001-07:00

Konkanifying Hollywood Movies

Tongue-in-Cheek
By Cecil Pinto

The lovely month of February is upon us. Valentine Day, Carnival, Shigmo, Urrack... The nightmare crowds of the IFFI and the Exposition are things of the past, and the distant future. The dastardly Goa Liberation VCD will soon be consigned to the rubbish bin of history. Soon we will be back to normal, discussing standard fare such as helmets, corruption, potholed roads and the dreaded 'outsiders'. At least that's what I thought...

Yesterday I met my friend Michael D'Costa, the entrepreneur whose idea of supplying interesting wedding guests on demand took off splendidly. Not one to relax and enjoy success gracefully, Michael, I knew, would be up to some unique new scheme pretty soon. Sure enough. Within seconds of meeting we were seated sipping chilled beer at the nearest bar and Michael was enthusiastically describing his latest business idea. Dubbing English movies in Konkani.

"What?!! Michael you've surely flipped your lid this time"

"Why not maan? They're dubbing movies in every bloody language. Why not amchi Konkani?"

"But Michael, where is the audience? As it is English movies run to almost empty theatres here in Goa. Who's going to watch Hollywood movies dubbed in Konkani?"

"Audience doesn't matter yaar!"

"What? Don't you have to recover your costs?"

"I will. The Government will pay me to get the movies dubbed. They're subsidising INOX, that's showing movies to nearly empty halls. They're supporting third rate Konkani movies made by amateur first time directors.
Movies that nobody's going to see or remember anyway. You see since Konkani is the Official Language they have to pay me, even if nobody comes to see the dubbed films. I had initially thought of subtitling, instead of dubbing, in Konkani but they insisted on the Devnagri script. And you know how bad my Devnagri is. Since SSC I've not written a single word in Devnagri. I can't even remember the basic numbers. That's why I use taxis in Mumbai. Can't figure out the bloody BEST bus numbers!"

"But won't you have difficulty with the Hindu Konkani accent being
different from the Christian Konkani accent and the North Goan Konkani being different from the South Goan Konkani and Portuguese and Marathi words and ..."

"No big deal buddy. See the original English films had different accents and colourful language anyway so I have a certain degree of artistic liberty. As long as the audience understands the dialogue. Since I'm not expecting an audience anyway, I don't foresee any problems!"

"I presume you will be hiring local Tiatr and Natak artistes"

"Actually I'm hiring people with interesting voices. Experience doesn't matter. The well known names are making what strange demands maan! Prince Jacob wants to do all the voices in the film - male and female, young and old. Hema Sardesai wants her dance troupe to accompany her into the dubbing studio. How will they, and she fit in my small studio? Premanand Lotlikar refuses to wear anything that covers his ears, helmets or headphones. Remo feels that films are not as important as hospitals and so he wants all his payment to go to charity, like he did with the 6 lakhs he was paid to perform at the IFFI closing ceremony. I wonder which charities benefited and by how much? And why music and songs are important and films are not?"

"I think you're digressing Micheal. But I get the point. So how are you going about identifying good voices among the public?"

"I'm watching a lot of local Goan TV. Goa365, Goa NewsLine, Goa Plus...."

"Found anyone particularly interesting so far?"

"Well Parrikar seems perfect for the voice of that arrogant Peter O Toole in Lawrence of Arabia. Dr. Willy's slow and thick speech could go down well as Sidney Poitier in The Heat of The Night. And nobody could do the charismatic role of Susan Sarandon, as the nun in Dead Man Walking, better than the elegant and charitable Mrs. Rane. We tried to get the firebrand Gomantak Times' editor Sujay Gupta to voice Sean Penn for Dead Man Walking.

Seemed an ideal choice with the risks he's taking by exposing all the corruption in the Government. But Sujay says he's not about to play dead so soon. A long and fiery life to him! Tara Kerkar from Vasco has the perfect voice for Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady - but only for the section before Eliza gets transformed into a proper young lady. Babush Monserrate's softspoken understated voice comes across as perfect for the menacing Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs. By the way I've noticed that girls from South Goa speak beautiful Konkani in normal life but they put on such a horrible contrived English accent when faced with a mike that I cannot use them."

"Which movies are you currently dubbing?"

"We've started of with only Oscar winners. Poilo-Dusro ani Tisro Podon, Varyan Ublem, Chondriman Fanfudlo, Bailecho Vas, Kollean Borabor Nach, Sadhe Lok, Dockyar, Dhovem Ghor, Modyanir Gai Bhurgo, Xelliamchem Ogeaponn, Mhoji Gori Ostori, Pavsa Munis, Choltem Modem, Ratche Gorment, Arabi Lorso, Khodpi and Bhangra Tollier"

"Whaaaaaaaaa?"

"Godfather Part 1, 2 and 3, Gone with the Wind, MoonStruck, Scent of a Woman, Dances with Wolves, Ordinary People, On the Waterfront, Casa Blanca, Midnight Cowboy, Silence of the Lambs, My Fair Lady, Rain Man, Dead Man Walking, In the Heat of the Night, Lawrence of Arabia, Rocky and On Golden Pond,

"Oh! Now I see. Best of luck Micheal. I wish you well in your new venture.
I would love to be present at the dubbing studio someday to write about the process."

"Sure. I'll let you know the next time we're recording. Thanks for the encouragement. My only problem is going to be getting past the Screening Committee that's been set up to check the translated script for factual inaccuracies or communal leanings."

"Who all are on the committee?"

"Mostly RSS members and Freedom Fighters"

"Then you will have no problem!"

-------
The column above appeared in the February 2005 issue of Goa Today magazine.
======

Renovating Churches & Chapels - the new mantra

2008-03-23T03:22:00.001-07:00

Renovating Churches & Chapels - the new mantra

On a recent mid-week visit to Aldona I was rather perturbed to find that the gossip was centred around financial irregularities in the churches and chapels, rather than the usual village accidents, infidelities and the 'outsiders' menace.

1) Apparently the Mae de Deus Chapel in Corjuem collected some 35 lakhs from the parishioners for renovation of one sort and then the Chaplian made a decision to renovate the front facade instead of sticking to the original plan. The Corjuemkars are angry that their funds are being used for a purpose other than the original intention, without them being taken into confidence. More details are available in the recent archives at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/aldona-net/

2) In the St. Rita Chapel in Carona the Chaplain has set a fund raising target of Rs. 50 lakhs to 'enlarge' the chapel as it cannot accommodate the parishioners on Sunday. One parishioner made a simple suggestion that two masses be held on Sunday instead of one. That surely would have solved the problem?

3) The massive Aldona Church renovation is nearly complete. Funds have been sanctioned to buy 6 chandeliers for Rs.1,25,000/-. Some parishioners are questioning the need for such ostentation.

In many parishes in Goa one finds such things happening. The parish priest decides that some major renovation, or completely new construction, has to be done during his tenure. An appeal is made for funds. Money flows in - specially from the hard working, good hearted and generous Gulf Goans. A spanking new facade/ church/ chapel/ extension is built, sometimes quite unnecessarily, and inaugurated with fanfare. The priest moves on to the next parish with another notch on his belt. And searches for new 'building
ground' to perpetuate his name for posterity.

There are many of these 'builder' priests around and also a growing breed of civil contractors and hangers-on who have made such jobs their full-time occupation. With the relatively lax tendering procedures, and a flush of funds, the attraction is obvious.

Sometimes the need for renovation, expansion or reconstruction exists but more often than not it is just a exercise in expanding the particular priest's repertoire of 'projects'. Or the coaxing and manipulation of a shrewd contractor. I wonder if these energies and monies could not be better utilised to build the spiritual church rather than just the physical edifice.

Cecil

Jan 22, 2005
====
Churches, Institutions, Convents, Schools & other Hospices
in Goa & Damam
http://www.goa-world.com/goa/churchdirectory/
(Easier communication links to institutions near your home)

My efforts so far - to get a Delegate Pass for the IFFI

2008-03-23T03:19:00.000-07:00

My efforts so far - to get a Delegate Pass for the IFFI

The IFFI is all set to begin on Monday and I am no closer to getting a Delegate Pass today as when I started my attempts two weeks back. Five attempts so far with varying degrees of failure but not an inch of success.

But let me begin from the beginning. I located the IFFI site on the Internet and downloaded the Application Form, printed it and filled it up.
That part was pretty easy. The Documentation part was the stumbling block.
I had to prove that I was involved in filmmaking or was in somewhere connected to the film industry.
Just decided to bluff it out and take my chances.

The IFFI office is in the refurbished old GMC complex and I walked in wearing my white corduroy trousers, white golfing shoes, a borrowed white coat with large lapels and a purple shirt.
Looking around arrogantly with the haughty attitude of a minor Bollywood star I asked the pretty receptionist, "Who's in charge here?". She looked me up and down and asked what exactly I wanted.

"My agent is very busy with some contract matters in Singapore and he told me to collect my Delegate Pass directly from here as I was in Goa for some shooting anyway."

"You have sent in the form earlier Sir?"

"Ah yes. He said he had sent it in but you know how these agents are", I said with a wink at the girl, "Anyway here's a duplicate form just in case you have not received it."

"But Sir. You have to attach documentary proof of your Film Industry status"

"Documentaries? Sorry dear I only do masala films.
Didn't you see me in 'Kaho Na Kahan Gaya?'"

"I don't recall your name or face Sir.
But regardless we need documented evidence."

"My dear you don't quite understand. You really expect me to carry along some pieces of paper when I'm standing here myself. Shall I call up my friend Mahesh Bhatt right now?".
I said this while removing my Nokia 3310 mobile with a flourish. I think that was a wrong move. She must have realised that a Bollywood star would not be seen dead with something as plebian as a 3310 and so I was soon politely escorted out by the security guys.

One week later I made my second attempt.
This time I decided to make an honest approach. Dressed in my most casual clothes I approached the girl hoping she would not recognise me.
"Good morning ma'am. Where do I give in my application for a Delegate Pass?
By the way that's a lovely outfit you're wearing. Must get my wife one like that. Where did you buy it?
Imported or what?"

"Haven't I met you before?"

"Highly possible. We movie types bump into each other everywhere. You know how it is. Heh Heh!
Here's my form and photo."

"But Sir you have not attached any documentation."

"Oh I can tell you that. Just note it down."

"But..."

"I'm a founder President of the Aldona Adult Film Society. "

"Never heard of it"

"Not many have. It's a rather exclusive membership. But I can get you a vistor's pass for a screening.
What say? Interested?"

"But Sir, registered Film Societies can have only members and no visitors"

"That's why we didn't register it!"

"Then it doesn't count"

"How about Sholay?"

"What about Sholay?"

"I saw it four times on the big screen and at least twelve times on TV. And I saw Sound of Music eight times, and Fiddler on the Roof six times. No?!

What about being able to whistle every tune from Amar Akbar Anthony and sing every song from Singing in The Rain? Surely that counts? No?
Ok I have seen every Mafia movie ever made. And have the Original Special VHS Edition of the Godfather Triology. I watch a movie almost every day on TV.
I have every movie channel, even the ones that show pixellated adult films late at night.
I know the ushers at the Ashok and Samrat Theatres on a first name basis.
I always get the best seats when it's not house-full.
In fact I can get you tickets even when it is house-full.
And I also know...."

"Sir, I really would like to help you but don't you have any filmmaking experience?"

"I once held the light for my friend Miguel who is a wedding
videographer? Not good enough? My digital camera can do thirty second MPEG files. No? I know how to download and forward Animated GIF files from the Net. No?
My brother-in-law had the first cam corder in Divar..."

"Have you at least been a movie critic ever?"

"I think Poltergeist Part 2 sucked.
And Jennifer Lopez can't act to save her life.
Marlon Brando was over rated.
So was Alfred Hitchcock, whereras Satyajit Ray and ..."

"Ok! Ok! But did you ever say this in a printed publication?"

"No but I mentioned it in an e-mail to a cousin who has a laser printer and he prints all his e-mail.
No? That don't count?"

"Have you ever at least been a part of the technical crew of a movie?"

"My cousin Leo used to hire out props for Hindi Movies for nearly two decades. No? My sister-in-law's lodge was used for a scene in the Bourne Supremacy. No use?"

"Any acting experience? Anything at all?
I really would like to help you get a Delegate Pass"

"I was on TV once. As part of a newsclip showing people watching the Bonderam Festival".

"No! No! Not TV. Film. Have you acted even in a secondary role"

"I did audition for a crowd scene when they were shooting Sea Wolves but was not selected. Thanks dear, you've been most kind, but I think I get the message. Best I get going. There's this Tiatr..."

"Whoa? If you are a Tiatrist. I think I can see how I can get you in? Just get me documentation of your involvement with Tiatr"

"How will that help?"

"Don't you know? There are no film makers in Goa worth mentioning so we are giving passes to Tiatr and Natak people and calling them Filmmakers. The only criteria is that you should have had at least one of your Tiatrs video filmed and sold in the Gulf as a movie. What exactly do you do in Tiatrs?"

"Actually I'm just going to pick up my wife. She's gone to see the Tiatr with the rest of the family."

"Oh!"

-----

Folks, I'm getting pretty desperate to get a Delegate Pass to the IFFI. Any and all suggestions on how to go about getting a pass will be most welcome.

Cheers!

Cecil Pinto
cpinto@sancharnet.in
Nov 27, 2004

(courtesy: Aldona-Net www.yahoogroups.com/group/aldona-net )
Aldona-Net: This list is for people from Aldona, in Aldona, and those keen to keep in touch with Aldona).

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reality TV - Surviving Panjim

2008-03-23T03:18:00.001-07:00

GOA TODAY:

Tongue-in-Cheek
by Cecil Pinto

Reality TV - Surviving Panjim:

Welcome all you contestants to the mother of all
Reality TV shows. It's great to see you fine young men
and women who have progressed through the eliminating
rounds. One of you is going to be the winner of a
million rupees. I know that won't even get you a
double bedroom flat in St. Inez but what can we do.
All the houses on the coastal belt have already been
sold to foreigners and those in the suburbs to
non-Goans.

In our first round all contestants have to enter
Panjim from either Porvorim, Ribandar, Merces, St.
Cruz or Dona Paula without wearing a helmet.
Those who can convince the cops that they are not on a
National Highway and within city limits then proceed
to the next round. Be warned that crossing by the
ferry from Betim will disqualify you from further
competition. Also the arrogant use of the Konkani
phrase "Do you know who I am?" is not allowed. Nor is
dialing Aires Rodrigues from your mobile.

Round Two will separate the men and women from the
mice. Here you have to navigate a four wheeler from
Miramar Circle to the Kadamba Busstop, via the
remains of DB Road and the Secretariat, without once
cursing the Government or the IFFI. In-car cameras
will monitor your every action. Switch from lane to
lane with nothing to guide you but the car ahead,
avoid being crushed by huge cranes and shovels that
pass within inches of your window, figure out why
gigantic speedbreakers are referred to as 'Bump ahead'
and try not to look at the digging and building and
cementing going on all around you - like you're in an
obstacle race at a huge construction site.
Bonus points will be given if you can smile all the
way through - and if your car suspension survives.
Those who manage this round will then be asked to do
the same route at night when the route is changed
without any warning, or police personnel, to show you
the night route. As you miss being mowed down by an
out-of-state trucker, who is equally bewildered by
this change from night to day, you cannot curse or
finally decide you're migrating to Canada.

The next round is comparatively simple. Find a parking
space for your car on 18th June Road between 11 am and
1 pm. As you circle round AB Road and MG road you will
be timed and your petrol consumption calculated. If
you
get stuck in a slow moving side stream, because some
uncivil jerk has stopped his car for a few minutes
waiting for his nitwit self-important boss to pop in
and pop out of some office, that isn't really our
problem.

In the next round we test your cuisine skills. Try and
find a restaurant in Panjim that serves only Goan Food
- Hindu or Catholic style. Ok forget that. Impossible.
Just find a restaurant that is not Multi Cuisine. If
the ubiquitous 'mix-friend rice' does not feature on
the menu we consider that adequate. Following that try
and locate a non-Udipi veg restaurant. Just find a
simple Goan veg restaurant where one can have a
ussal-bhaji-panv and some mirchi. For the show
producers' insurance criteria naturally the restaurant
you find has to be absolutely clean and have no
jaundice connections - past or present. Aha! Now
that's a tough round.

Please feel free to drop out now because there's even
tougher rounds to come.

A huge tent has been set up at the SAG Grounds in
Campal. All you contestants will have to spend one
whole night there in only your undergarments. The tent
is designed to protect you from the elements but will
not protect you from mosquitoes. Next morning you will
be taken to GMC for a check up and only those showing
no trace of malaria will be allowed into the next
round. Rest assured the only way to survive this round
is to keep awake all night and make sure that you can
swat and kill every mosquito that settles on your
skin. To keep our viewers entertained you will be
broken up into groups of four with two males and two
females sharing one tent. Slapping a tent-mate could
help him or her into the next round, but it may also
have other repercussions. Enjoy!

Next we go to the still remaining part of the old
Panjim market. The objective is to pick up 2 items
each of exactly Rs. 65/-, Rs. 99/- and Rs. 20/-
respectively without stepping into any shop which has
these prices boldly mentioned at the entrance. As you
maneuver your way through the crowded passages and get
pummeled by purchasers, vendors and merchandise you
are not allowed to go to the spacious New Market under
any circumstances. Easy? There's one more caveat. None
of the items you purchase can be Chinese. All have to
be 'Made in India" with a proper MRP clearly printed.

The top eight contestants from all these preliminary
rounds will then move to our Super Duper "Search &
Find" Round of Surviving Panjim. Just a hint of some
of the missions you will be sent on.

Search & Find:
- An entire building block in Central Panjim that does
not have a permanent garment SALE on at the ground
floor since the last two years.
- Males sitting in pairs on public benches who are NOT
gay
- Two gaddos in a row that do NOT accept matka bets
- One new building that has enough parking space for
all its occupants
- Two connected roads of which one is not planned to
be unnecessarily and controversially renamed.
- One hundred meter stretch of road that has been dug
up less than three times in the last year.
- A Goan beggar

And stay tuned for our Grand New Reality TV Show next
month, "Surviving Calangute"!

-----
The column above appeared in the November 2004 issue
of Goa Today magazine.
====

The Matrimonial Act

2008-03-23T03:17:00.001-07:00

The Matrimonial Act

Tongue-in-Cheek
by Cecil Pinto

From Non-Banking Finance Companies, to Pyramid Schemes disguised as Multi Level Marketing, Goa has seen a host of con artists take advantage of our trust and gullibility. Sleep inducing biscuits, magic mattresses, gold polishers, mute donation seekers, miracle cures... I'm pretty sure even the famous Nigerian e-mail scam was inspired by a Goan's greed for getting something for nothing. No sooner the Government and Police machinery discovers one con game another one surfaces elsewhere.

I recently spoke to Kashinath Bhonsle, newly appointed Chairman of the Economic Offences Cell (CEO-C), about measures that are being taken to outwit the crooks.

"This month we are drafting the Legislation that will be named the Goa Matrimonial Act 2004"

"You mean the Holy Act of Matrimony, that's one of the Seven Sacraments?"

"No, this nothing to do with the religion. It concerns only the wording of Matrimonial Advertisements. The Goa Government is very concerned about all these men and women who are falsely representing themselves in matrimonial advertisements. They are painting a very desirable picture, but then end up very disappointing."

"But surely that is not an economic offense? These cleverly worded matrimonial adverts are as old as history, and first-meeting-shocks are nothing new. There is no state in the country, or in the world, that has legislated matrimonial adverts!"

"Please don't tell me about other states. Goa is unique state. For example which other state can boast that projects are completed so much before schedule? See our bridges and roads and bypasses. All completed months before scheduled dates. In fact just last week the bridge that was inaugurated was completed even before the tenders were opened! The Goa Government is very forward thinking. We are anticipating matrimonial
advertisement will soon be used for luring people into Pyramid Schemes and hence are taking advanced action for preventing this."

"Fair enough. What measures does the Goa Matrimonial Act propose?"

"No publication in Goa will be allowed to carry matrimonial advertisement unless it is accompanied by Special Notarised Affidavit stating exact facts. We are appointing special Matrimonial Notaries in every major town to authenticate contents of matrimonial advertisement before it is released."

"What all will these Matrimonial Notaries do?"

"They will check that each and every word in the matrimonial advert is having physical proof as backing. For example they will measure the exact height of person if he or she wants to mention height in advertisement."

"Why is height so important in choosing a lifemate?"

"I don't know, but we suggest in the act that only midgets and giants should mention exact height. For others we have three categories - Short, Medium and Tall. For age authentication we will need valid Birth Certificate. All relevant Degrees and Diplomas, of course, as proof of qualifications. And Proof of Income for any 'currently earning' claims.
Exact Annual Income will need to be mentioned in the advertisement. No vague terms like "six figure salary" and such. You tell me what is a "six figure" annual salary?"

"I don't know."

"Ok. One fellow earning Rs. 1,00,000/- a year. Other fellow earning Rs. 9,00,000/- a year. Both are six figures. What we can do? We need exact figures. And anyone claiming earnings from ancestral property will have to bring in proof to show he is indeed one of the owners of the property and has a right to any income. The paperwork for migrating to Canada is going to look easy when compared to the documentation we are demanding for placing a matrimonial advertisement. Gulfee, Shipee, Green Car Holder,
Portuguese Passport Holder, Bulb Holders.. all these terms will have exact definitions with years of service / domicile compulsorily mentioned clearly. A fellow recruited in a tiny firm in Oman six months back cannot be in the same category as a fellow who has worked for twenty years at Aramco in Saudi Arabia. Of course the Oman fellow will have more hair. But that is different matter."

"What about subjective fields like complexion?"

"Nothing that is observable and recordable is subjective. We have designed Skin Shade Chart that has every possible skin colour ranging from 'Sickly-Pale-White' to 'Nearly-Coal-Black'. Each shade has special number which will have to be mentioned in the advertisement so the prospective spouse knows exactly what colour skin to expect. We are also trying to work on a Texture Sampler that will categorise skins into Oily, Soft, Dry, Tender, Snakelike etc etc"

"But from which part of the body will you compare a skin sample?"

"From one of the buttocks of course. This is the most neutral area. Other parts of the body are unreliable as they could be subject to tanning or excessive use of fairness cream"

"Anonymity will no longer be possible I presume?"

"That is major problem area we are examining. With Post Box numbers and E-mail addresses someone can just create fake identity. We are also understanding that sometimes people don't want everyone knowing that they are looking-around or on-the-market so to say. So we will allow them little anonymity in the sense that they can use Post Boxes etc. but we, as the Matrimonial Act Agency, will know exactly which Post Box identifies which individual and will reveal this in case of dispute."

"Brilliant! Any other matters the public should know?"

"Well we are trying to define many other ambiguous areas. For example what is 'cultured' family? Whose culture? How do we define terms like 'decent' and 'affectionate' and 'home loving'. We are designing Personality Tests in these areas. But family background is a bit more difficult to pin down. We had a problem with 'owning own accommodation' which could be one room in a chawl in Baina or a six bedroom bungalow in Dona Paula. But now we have special Matrimonial Act Evaluators who will assess the property, and
ownership, and define its exact market worth in rupees. This figure will have to be compulsory mentioned in advertisement. We are also trying to get consensus on 'beautiful' and 'handsome'. Also whether a Catholic who mentions his caste can still be called a Catholic. And other areas such as....

------
The column above appeared in the October 2004 issue of Goa Today magazine.
Cecil Pinto can be contacted at cpinto@sancharnet.in
====

Some previous issues of GOA TODAY are archived at
www.goa-world.com/goa/goatoday

TGF Writers' Sketchpad
Over the years, we have been blessed and enlightened by absolutely brilliant Goan activists, thinkers, writers and poets. Among the Goan writers we have truly enjoyed and we wish to record our personal admiration for their flair and indomitable spirit. We thank them for their insight and wish them many, many years of articulate penmanship.
http://www.colaco.net/writers.htm
Owned and Managed by the Colaços of Nassau

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter since 1994 is moderated by G@SP@R ALMEID@, Associate goa-world.com & presented by Ulysses Menezes, Owner goa-world.com website. All postings with photos, graphics, cartoons archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans/

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They raised the bar

2008-03-23T03:15:00.000-07:00

Goan for the Jocular: They raised the bar
by Cecil Pinto
-------------------

Sucheta Potnis, a Goa based columnist of a national newspaper, once joked about being a Brand Ambassador for some major Multi National Company. Her dream did not materialise of course. I met the charming Sucheta to find out why her idea did not pan out. She explained a lot of major marketing and advertising terms to me but in the end I was not convinced. To prove my point I have decided to make an attempt at getting myself appointed as Brand Ambassador for some major company. I will keep you readers posted on the results.

The trick, I think, is proper positioning.

You see all brand advertising is about aspirations. Many people want to be an Amitabh or a Sachin or a Madhuri. They will never get there, so they pander to their own aspirations by buying the products that their idols use. The small time businessman buys some Reid & Taylor suiting and feels he is closer to being debonair Amitabh. And the teenage boy, playing tennis ball cricket in the gulley, sips a Coke and dreams of being a batting wizard like Sachin. And the young bride uses a Lux soap in the dingy
bathroom of her single bedroom apartment and fantasizes she is Madhuri on the wide screen running around trees, with snowcapped Swiss hills visible in the background. She lathers her body while the relentless throbbing of the shower caresses her body. As the soap slides on her wet skin she closes her eyes and moans.... Oops! Got carried away there. Where was I? Aspirations.

So I think to myself. Who would want to be me? For that I have to first define what I am. I decide to make a list of my 'admirable' features and give up after not much comes to mind. Then I attempt a list of my material possessions that someone would envy. Not much there either. I mean a Yamaha motorbike, a Nokia 3310 and a 21" Aiwa TV is not really great aspirational material. I give up this exercise.

What about finding out which 'class' slot I fall into? Middle middle class, upper middle class... bottom of the barrel? I go to the local library and leaf through a few Finance and Business type magazines. They all seem to be very optimistic and are trying to convince me that these are times of great opportunity. Car loans, housing loans, educational loans are at an all time low they say. For just rupees nineteen thousand a month I can own a double bedroom flat in Vasai (Where's Vasai? Why would I want to live in Vasai?).
In fact a middle class person earning just six lakhs a year can buy a car, a computer and a small apartment relatively easily. Six lakhs a year!! They call this middle class? Holy crap! I just realised I'm not middle class. I leave the library depressed that I didn't even remotely make lower middle class (three lakhs a year!).

I'm resigned now to the fact that I'm middle lower class, as opposed to lower lower class (the guys who hover around the poverty line). Despite my concern for the absolutely poor it's a comforting feeling knowing that there's at least somebody below me in the class structure. Now obviously this lower lower class is what I should examine. These are the guys who want to make it up to the middle lower class. What are their dreams? What
do they want? What are their ideals and idols? I ask around. It's not very easy here in Goa to find many of the lower lower class. I do find a few in some taverns, pav-bhaji restaurants, rural bus stops and migrant labour camps. I ask them what they aspire for. A two wheeler? A dwelling place they own? Decent clothes? Bus fare?

They all agree. These things I mention are very important. But their priorities are elsewhere. They all want to be Amitabh, Sachin and Madhuri.
There's something wrong here.

========
The humour column above appeared in Goa Plus, the Friday Magazine section of 'The Times of India' on 16/1/2004.
========

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter since 1994 is moderated by G@SP@R @LMEID@, Associate goa-world.com & presented by Ulysses Menezes, Owner goa-world.com website. All postings archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans/

Goan Music Groups - For Weddings, Parties, Shows.....

2008-03-23T03:14:00.000-07:00

Goan Music Groups - For Weddings, Parties, Shows.....

The Cream
Ph.: 2401121 - Maurice
Mob.: 9822 131447

Goan Touch
Ph: 2742844 - Ron Fidelis
Mob: 9822386579.
Email: C/o. shamarell@yahoo.com.
Brothers In Arms
Mob.: 9822 587517 - Kaitan
Mob.: 9822 169261 - Logan

Big Country Band
Mob.: 9822 103044
Ph.: 2550120 - Malcom

Cascades

Mob.: 9822 155243 - Darryl

Forefront
Ph.: 2413206 - Seby
Mob.: 9822 120249 - Lester

Alcatrazz
Ph.: 2452113 - Francis
Mob.: 9822125453

Rainstorm
2272316 - Gerad
Mob.: 9822137216

Pure Magic
Mob.: 9823 064502 - Chris
Ph.: 2705502

Archies
Mob.: 9822 102577
Ph.: 2229269 - Paul

Crimson Tide
Mob.: 9823 018061
Ph.: 2451073 - Edwin

Blue Waves
Ph.: 2452280 - Benny
Mob.: 9822 182456

Lace
Mob.: 9822 488180 - Leo
Mob.: 9822 485140 - Lawry

Shelton goes Solo
(The One Man Mega-Band)
Shelton - 9822 128424

(Thanks to Cecil Pinto & Sharon Mazarello for the info).

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

Upcoming Goan events in Kuwait this September:

10th September 2004 - Konkani tiatr "Almanchea Disa" written & directed
by Marcus Vaz and presented by MBM Production.

15th September 2004- Drawing & Essay Competitions
Venue: Indian English Academy School, Salmiya
(Organized as part of Goa Day 2004 by Goan Welfare Society in association with Goan clubs/organizations in Kuwait).

24th September 2004- Goa Day 2004 - Goenkarancho Ekvott -
Marina Party Hall (Touristic Enterprises Gardens)
Abbasiya, Kuwait.
(Organized by Goan Welfare Society in association with Kuwait-Goa Tiatristanchi Sonvstha, United Club of Utorda, Colva United Centre, Goan Overseas Association, Crystal Focus Club, Konkani Heritage Kuwait, Curtorcares United, Bombay Boys Sports Club, CRC Chinchinim, Kuwait Konkani Kendr, Navelim Youth Centre, United Friends Club, Kala Mogui Kuwait, The Entertainment & Cultural Society, Chinchinim Villagers, among others).

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter since 1994 is moderated by G@SP@R @LMEID@, Associate goa-world.com & presented by Ulysses Menezes, Owner goa-world.com website. All postings archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans/

Helmet Time Again

2008-03-23T03:12:00.000-07:00

Helmet Time Again
- song dedicated to Goa Traffic Cops
Aug 17, 2004

Helmet Time

By Cecil Pinto
(sung to the tune of Crying Time by Ray Charles)

Chorus:
Oh, it's helmet time again, you're gonna fine me
I can see that challan look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you blow the whistle
That it won't be long before it's helmet time.

ow they say that helmets save our heads from danger
And we should do exactly what we're told
This sudden concern for my head I can't understand
If I lived to be a hundred years old

Ch.
Oh, it's helmet time again, you're gonna fine me
I can see that challan look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you blow the whistle
That it won't be long before it's helmet time

Now you say that it's a rule all the world over
And show me strange statistics till I'm bored
But in which country will you please show me
Do cows and dogs and pigs rule the road?

Ch.
Oh, it's helmet time again, you're gonna fine me
I can see that challan look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you blow the whistle
That it won't be long before it's helmet time

I can drown in the sea without a life jacket
I can gorge myself to death with high cholesterol
But when I decide to ride without a helmet
You conveniently ignore the killer pothole

Ch.
Oh, it's helmet time again, you're gonna fine me
I can see that challan look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you blow the whistle
That it won't be long before it's helmet time

We've been through this charade many times before.
Is it ever going to end, that's the question.
The Government that dares to impose helmets
Is guaranteed to lose the next election

Ch.
Oh, it's helmet time again, you're gonna fine me
I can see that challan look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you blow the whistle
That it won't be long before it's helmet time.

------- original lyrics below -----

Crying Time
Ray Charles
Music & Lyrics : Owens

Oh, it's cryin' time again, you're gonna leave me
I can see that far away look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you hold me darlin'
That it won't be long before it's cryin' time

Now they say that absence makes the heart grow fonder
And that tears are only rain to make love grow
Well my love for you could never grow no stronger
If I lived to be a hundred years old

Oh, it's cryin' time again, you're gonna leave me
I can see that far away look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you hold me darlin'.
That it won't be long before it's cryin' time

Now you say you've found someone that you love better
That's the way it's happened every time before
And as sure as the sun comes up tomorrow
Cryin' time will start when you walk out the door

Oh, it's cryin' time again, you're gonna leave me
I can see that far away look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you hold me darlin'.
That it won't be long before it's cryin' time

=======

OTHER EVILS IN GOA....
(COURTESY: ALEXYZ)

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter since 1994 is moderated by G@SP@R @LMEID@, Associate goa-world.com & presented by Ulysses Menezes, Owner goa-world.com website. All postings archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans/

Game of 'Housie' in Goa

2008-03-23T03:11:00.000-07:00

Housie variations I am currently researching the origins, variations and spread of 'housie' and 'housie playing' in Goa. Below are some of my initial background findings, and a request for trivia on Housie in Goa, particularly Housie conduced in Konkani.

Variously called Housie, Lotto, Bingo or Tambola the game is the same with variations in prizes. In Goa normally it is 'jaldi five', 'any horizontal line', 'sandwich' and 'full house'.

A variation called 'any vertical line' was tried for a while in Moira but never really caught on.

Starting my research in Benaulim I was told by an old timer that 'housie' was named after its inventor Lord DalHOUSIE who made up this game for Indian the army in order to curb the after effects of the Sepoy Mutiny.
Obviously this is untrue as Lord Dalhousie left India in 1856 while the Sepoy Mutiny was in 1857. Lord Dalhousie encouraged the inclusion of Gorkhas to the Indian Army; not housie! That much for Benaulim.

There are many theories about the origins of Bingo. The one below seems most accepted.

--------

Origins:
http://www.apennyearned.co.uk/bingo-history.html

The roots of the modern game of Bingo can be traced as far back as the 16th Century to the unification of Italy in 1530. The "Lo Giuoco del Lotto d'Italia" was the first state run lottery which proved immensely popular with both the people and the government itself (not least because of the revenue it generates for the state coffers) and has remained en vogue to this day! If Bingo is to be seen as a lottery, then this is the first documented case of it being played on a large scale.

Perhaps, closer to the game we see today is the French lottery, Le Lotto which derived from the Italian lottery. Reportedly popular during the late 18th century with wealthy Frenchmen, this game of chance involved a caller drawing out wooden discs numbered 1 to 90 from a bag and shouting them out to the game players. Each player had just one single card divided into 3
rows and 9 columns with numbers organised in much the same way as a modern bingo card. Column 1 had random numbers between 1 and 10, Column 2 between 11 and 20 and so on up to 81-90 on the last column. In addition, every Row had just 5 numbers and 4 blanks. The winner would be the first person to cover the numbers on an entire row.

Later versions of Le Lotto appeared in Germany, where instead of being used as a gambling game, they were instead used for educational purposes for example to teach children their times tables. Today, similar games can still be found on the market, although naturally as far removed from the original purpose as possible...

The first real push into the English speaking world came in the late 1920's when a hard up New York toy salesman by the name of Edwin S. Lowe stumbled across a carnival game in Georgia. The game of Beano, as the booth-owner called it, involved a caller drawing numbered wooded discs from a bag and shouting them out to the waiting players. Each player had a game card with
numbered squares and some dried beans. Every time a number was called out which was on their card, they would mark it with a bean. The first player to have a straight line of beans, either in a horizontal, vertical or diagonal direction was declared the winner. Such was the popularity of this game that try as he might, Lowe didn't get to play that night but the idea was formed.

Rushing back to New York he invited friends over to his apartment to play this new game. They became immediately hooked and at one point, so excited was one female member of the party, that instead of shouting out "Beano!" to signify she had won, she yelled "Bingo!" instead. The name stuck and Lowe went on to create the first commercialised version of the game,
retailing at $1 for a 12 card set and $2 for a 24 cards.

Bingo found it's way out of the family room and onto a grand scale thanks to the fund-raising efforts of a priest from Pennsylvania. The priest had seen a great opportunity to raise money for his church by holding bingo gaming events but had ran into an unfortunate problem. The game cards would produce tens of winners each game instead of the desired one or two,
because they had never been designed to be played en-masse. The subsequent quest to find 6000 cards with 6000 different number combinations (in the pre-computer age!) took many months and reputedly drove the university professor charged with the task quite insane. Literally.

By 1934 it was estimated more than 10,000 bingo games were being played a week and today, the national game grosses over $90 million a week in America alone.

-----------

Technique:

Joseph E. Granville, creator of successful stock market strategies used by thousands, has directed the enormous power of his analytical mind to the game of Bingo. After years of painstaking research, he has developed proven strategies that give you a clear competitive edge so that you can actually
beat your luck at Bingo by choosing your cards carefully.

Read about it at:
http://www.gambletribune.org/article330.html

--------

An interesting editorial featuring Tambola is at
http://www.tribuneindia.com/2004/20040319/edit.htm#3

Quote==

The conductor of the game picks up one number at a time and calls it one by one using many metaphors. One discovers delightful little details like the contours of the body, hidden messages, historical dates of important events etc. For instance while calling number 14 he would add "Unkissed". Sixteen
is whistling time, 18 marriageable age, 33 lovely lips, 36 vital statistics, 47 independence 58 retirement, 88 two fat Majors, 89 nearer to Heaven, seven James Bond and two is Kaala Dhan. Some TV, shows have become so popular that a few new additions have been made like two is Tulsi, nine Crorepati Time and so on.
== Unquote.

--------

Now in Goa 'housie' is normally conducted in English. We all know the standard phrases used to identify numbers, "two fat ladies" (88), "please teacher, number" (1), "lucky for some unlucky for others" (13) . Hindi and Konkani phrases and puns are sometimes used: "ulta sulta" (69), "Goan's favourite" (43).

When Housie is conducted in Konkani the announcer normally just says the digits followed by the number (eg "Vis ani Panch, Ponch Vis"). My studies show that very rarely are there equivalent Konkani phrases for Housie number calling. Apparently in the late eighties when Housie was conducted in Konkani near the chapel in Naikwaddo, Aldona, there was an announcer who used to make the most amusing jokes, rhymes and puns while calling out the numbers.

If anybody knows more about how Housie numbers are/were announced in Konkani please get in touch with me. Also any local trivia regarding Housie would be most welcome for my studies.

Regards

Cecil Pinto
cpinto@sancharnet.in
Jul 8, 2004

Expressions - The Flower Shop (Goa)
www.goa-world.com/expressions/
Email: expressions@apexmail.com

Saibinn custom fading in villages?

2008-03-23T03:02:00.001-07:00

Saibinn custom fading in villages?

- Cecil Pinto
Mar 26, 2004

Curiously enough I feel the custom of circulating the statue of Our Lady (Saibinn) from house to house is stronger in Goan cities than in the villages. In the last three years that I have resided in Panjim, in two different apartments, we have twice had the opportunity to bring Saibinn into our house.

Of course it was not the same as before.

In my school days in Aldona when the statue of our Lady was brought home boiled grams would be served, and the entire day the Saibinn was in the house was a day of prayer and reverence. Besides the actual time of transfer of the statue, neighbours dropped in throughout the day to join the family in prayer.

It was an experience that I guess will never return. Nearly half the 'waddo' walking down the street with the houseowner leading the way and handing over the statue to the next door neighbour. Prayers, hymns and the Rosary were said loudly and enthusiastically. Normally the menfolk would stand on one side of the room and the females on the other. Therefore the 'Santa Morye' and the 'Noman Morye' were always of opposite pitches. The males response was low. The females response was high. But the next decade (I hope I spelt that right!) the pitches would be reversed.

And we children always made sure we carried the biggest possible gents kerchief to accommodate the maximum number of boiled grams. We spread the kerchief on our laps and the lady of the house would generously dump as many cupfuls of grams as we could hold.

Even at that time things were beginning to change. Some people who did not have the time to boil grams, mostly the richer people, starting serving biscuits instead. And not even the sweet Glucose ones, but the boring round Marie biscuits. And tea. And syrupy cold drinks for the youngsters. Some prayers and hymns were even said in
English, which is in no way as harmonic as Konkani.

Then started the neighbour's fights. One person would refuse to accept the Saibinn from his next door neighbour because of some other bickering, which is part of our Goan ethos. So a convoluted compromise would be worked out where a distant neighbour would be the buffer. As more and more neighbours started bickering routes got maddeningly long and complicated. Like moving your hand from behind your head to scratch your ear. And finally in many villages they just stopped the beautiful custom of Saibinn.

In my village of Aldona it has been recently restarted by some enthusiastic and devout youngsters.

But I seem to have got carried away, or rather back in time, from my earlier assertion. The custom of Saibinn seems to be vibrantly active in the cities, which are normally perceived as being 'less religious', than the villages. Could this be my unique experience or is it true of the whole of Goa?

Cecil
Email: cpinto@sancharnet.in=====

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

But seriously, my love

2008-03-23T03:01:00.000-07:00

But seriously, my love

Goan for the Jocular
by Cecil Pinto
--------------------

Recently I received a Wedding Invitation that had a seemingly strange quote
engraved on the front, "I can't honestly say I was looking for you, and I
doubt if you were looking for me. But it happened and here we are... ". Now
these words seemed extremely pessimistic to me, specially on the front of a
Wedding Invitation. So I decided to do some introspection and see if the
same words could apply to me and my marriage.

Eleven years back when I met my (now beloved) wife Beatrice it was en route
to a party. A whole group of us met in Panjim from where we were supposed
to proceed on bikes to this birthday party in North Goa (some details have
been omitted to protect the privacy of unwitting accomplices). I arrived on
my not-so-new, but recently washed, Yamaha RX100 and had my eye set on
another girl (whose name cannot be mentioned because she is now happily
married and till date does not know that she was the original object of my
affections). Unfortunately she, this other girl whose name cannot be
mentioned, plonked herself on my friend's brand new LML Vespa (with self
start) and I had to resign myself to giving Beatrice a lift to the party.

We got talking on the way and well, to put it subtly, by the end of the day
as I dropped her home we knew we were on to something good. After a
colourful romance that lasted three years we got married. Thank God I
didn't have a Vespa! And you rich yuppie readers please keep in mind that
this was an era when salaries very rarely exceeded four figures. Car
Finance was not available at the drop of a hat. And even second hand Fiats
were still considered respectable, unlike now when they can be bought for
less than a decent pair of roller skates - and still have no takers.

But enough of my "those days v/s these days" flashbacks. The point I'm
trying to make is that romance can blossom in the most unforseen
circumstances. In searching for a life mate it's more important to keep
your options open and meet a lot of potentials, than just pursuing a single
individual you barely know. I'm out of the loop these days but from what I
recall Jaycee meetings, tiatrs, nataks, beat shows, parish picnics,
computer courses, wedding receptions and even Konkani agitations were
fertile meeting grounds for prospectives. I guess things have changed now
with phones, mobiles and computers being easily available. But I still
maintain you can tell more about a girl in twenty minutes, conversing with
her sitting pillion on your bike, than you can in six months of chatting on
MSN Messenger. Specially with the sheer number of fake scamsters that
infiltrate chat rooms, give me face-to-face any day. Or even
chin-resting-on-shoulder while lips brush ears and neck!

For example in the first year of our romance I woke up one day and realised
it was Valentine Day and I had not purchased a card or a gift. Holy crap!
This could be life threatening. Rummaging through my cupboard I found an
old X-Ray of my rib cage taken a few years earlier. I cut out a heart shape
where the heart is supposed to be and pasted a red paper in that place. On
the bright yellow envelope I wrote "My heart beats only for you!" with a
bright red marker. Delivered it myself to Beatrice's office along with a
single red rose. The returns were phenomenal (and cannot be described in
family newspapers). Now you kids of today try getting that sort of a
reaction with those stupid e-greeting cards with generic ready-made
messages or by forwarding corny SMS!! Ha! Fat chance!

I forgot to mention the last part of the quote on that Wedding Invitation
"...and here we are two people just happy being together, knowing fully
well that wherever we may go we will be walking together, for a lifelong
journey of love ". Maybe we find love when we're looking elsewhere.

-----------
The humour column above appeared in Goa Plus the Friday Magazine section of The Times of India on 13th February 2004 (Valentine Special).

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

Micheal's Mood Guests

2008-03-23T02:59:00.000-07:00

Goan for the Jocular

by Cecil Pinto
--------------------

Micheal's Mood Guests

Met my good friend Micheal D'Costa yesterday after a long, long time.
Micheal and me had studied together at St. Xaviers College in Mapusa and had kept in touch ever since, whenever we occasionally bumped into each other. Micheal calls himself a futurepreneur. That exactly what his business card says - FUTUREPRENEUR.

To enlighten you Micheal has been into every possible business long before others jumped onto the bandwagon - STD booth, Cybercafe, Event Management, Computer sales, Cellphone sales, Wildlife Treks, Webpage Hosting, Beach Shacks, Discos... Micheal had started all of these long before anyone else saw the opportunity coming. And once the market got crowded Micheal would swiftly change his line to something new and the rest would follow in a few months. Truly a futurepreneur. A man before his time.

"So Micheal what are you up to now?" I asked, "Last time we met you were offering an entire Wedding Package at Rs. 250/- per person. But now many others are doing that sort of thing."

"That is my life and my curse. I think up a good business plan and do all the research and pricing and then set it up. Next week another guy copies my idea and competes with me on price. It's quite sickening. Since you ask, I will tell you as a good friend. But this is Top Secret. I'm still in the wedding supplies business - Mood Guests."

"What exactly is that?"

"See sometimes you go for a wedding and it's quite a flop because the guest mixture is just not right. Too many old people, or too many young disco dancers, or too many drunks. The whole wedding reception, which the bride and groom spent months on planning, goes all awry because the Guest List was not balanced. I help balance it out, so the wedding is a success.

"Just hold on Cecil my mobile's ringing." Micheal reaches for his mobile.

"Hello Mood Guests On Call, Micheal speaking..."

"Jerry! Tell me. Cotta Mansion? Ok! How many? Three couples enough? Done!

They'll be there in twenty minutes."

"See Cecil. I deal with all the top MCs at weddings. They appraise the situation and give me a call. Now you heard that last request. Things are moving a bit too slow at a wedding in Agacaim. Nobody's dancing. I'm sending across three lively young couples. They do some sizzling Salsa and all the other guests will be out on the floor before the set is over."

"Hello! Trevor. Hello? How many? I think two couples will be just right."

"There see again. There's a wedding at Mapusa where there isn't a single foreigner present. How boring. How can you have a wedding in Goa without the obligatory few whites? What will the guests say? I'm despatching two European couples to add some colour to the occasion."

"But Micheal, how do you pay all these people?"

"I'm still working out the rates but my mood guests don't expect to be paid much more than petrol money. After all they get to enjoy themselves, drink, and eat some good food. All they are required to do is dress well and play their part. Hold on! There's another call coming through"

"Hello Alister, too noisy you said. Done! Four couples middle-aged, plus

one real elderly pair from UK in case that doesn't work."

"There see Cecil. This wedding at Margao is getting a bit out of hand with too many drunk stag dancers crowding the floor. I send some decent middle aged couples there who will do some classic ballroom dancing and bring the equation back in hand. In case that doesn't work we bring in the heavy artillery. This stiff upper lip couple from UK. Their ramrod-stiff dancing and disdainful looks will have everyone in line in minutes"

"Hello! Carl! Hokay. Nobody's drinking? A stiff sober occasion. I can spare three guys max. Sure guaranteed. They will drink themselves silly and set the house rocking as they attempt to sing along the Mandos. Sure to get things moving. You need more than three. Uhhh. Hold on a minute. Cecil, are you free for a couple of hours?"

---------
The humour column above appeared in Goa Plus the Friday Magazine section
of The Times of India on 24th January 2003.
====

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

Gulf-Goans e-Newsletter since 1994 is moderated by G@SP@R @LMEID@, Associate goa-world.com & presented by Ulysses Menezes, Owner goa-world.com website. All postings archived at www.yahoogroups.com/group/gulf-goans/

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mineral Water to be made compulsory in Goa

2008-03-23T02:58:00.000-07:00

Mineral Water to be made compulsory in Goa

The Goa Government has decided to make it compulsory for all citizens of
Goa, and visitors to the state, to drink only processed and bottled water,
generically referred to locally as 'mineral water'.

The Minister for Health, Shri Somnath Bisleri, addressed a packed Press
Conference today at the Menezes Braganza Hall in Panjim. Below are some
excerpts of queries from reporters, and the Minister's replies.

--------------------

Question:
"Sir. Why this sudden move by the Government?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"It is duty of state to protect the life of citizen. We are all knowing
that the water provided by PWD is not safe for drinking. The jaundice
epidemic in Panjim last year is proving that Gorment machinery cannot deal
with such things. Therefore we are making this new rule to safeguard Goa
citizen health."

Question:
"What about poorer class people, like motorcycle pilots, who cannot afford
to buy mineral water?

Somnath Bisleri:
"We will be providing subsidised mineral water at very cheap rate to
persons with Below Poverty Line ration cards."

Question:
"Isn't it the duty of the Government to provide citizens with potable
drinking water"

Somnath Bisleri:
"Arre! Which world you are living in? Who is drinking from pot anymore? Or
by making cup with hands? Those days are gone my friend. Everybody is using
bottle and glass nowadays."

Question:
"What about people who have sophisticated filters at home? People who have
already been taking safety precautions for their lives, like riding safely
and following traffic rules?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"This is what you people are not understanding. Can we come and check
everybody's houses for filters? Hanh? Best we just make one rule for
everyone. And you know who is making money by selling these filters?"

Question:
"No. Who is making the money?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"I don't know either. That's why I am asking. If I knew that would be
different. My family is not connected with making water filters."

Question:
"How will you ensure that the mineral water is pure."

Somnath Bisleri:
"That is good question. We will be sending random sample for testing in UK.
Like Coke and Pepsi."

Question:
"What about people in villages where life is relatively safer. Where clean
well water is available and there's less traffic. Why do they have to drink
mineral water?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"You please tell me which village has clean water. Calangute? Candolim?
Sinquerim? There are no proper sewage systems in these villages. Soon every
village in Goa will have contaminated water. The few villages that were
clean, like Colvale and Saligao, are now being used for dumping garbage. So
you see, the Gorment has planned for the future by making mineral water
compulsory today itself. The present Gorment has foresight. Our motto is
'Precaution is better than Planning".

Question:
"Shouldn't the Government be trying to solve the water pollution problem?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"That is easy for you to say. You come to GMC with me. You see the peoples
coming with sickness everyday. So many are dying also. Who is there that
time? If these people were drinking mineral water they would not be dying.
Afterwards you are blaming doctors and whatnot. Health Department is making
so much publicity with posters 'Boil water before drinking', 'Drinking and
driving do not mix', 'What is in your head is more important than what is
on it' You people are not reading these posters."

Question:
"But these people are falling sick and dying because the Health Department
has failed to give them clean drinking water!"

Somnath Bisleri:
"Please understand two things. Firstly Health Department is different from
Public Works Department. Secondly please show me where in the Constitution
it is written that Gorment has to give clean drinking water. Gorment has to
give water. What type water is not mentioned. Gorment has to give roads.
What type roads depends on who is sitting MLA and who is contractor.
Gorment has to give ambulances, and paint the MPs name behind. Who is
driving ambulances in not our problem. Gorment has to give riding and
driving licences. Teaching traffic sense and road safety is only in Road
Safety Week."

Question:
"Was the inspiration for this rule your recent trip to Singapore?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"No! No! I just saw all Europeans in Goa drinking mineral water! We have to
learn from the West. Not from the East. We have to keep stray dogs alive
because that's what the West tell us. We have to do everything the West
tells us."

Question:
"Can any brand mineral water be used?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"Only bottles having ISI mark will be allowed for purchase and consumption.
The Gorment is also shortlisting few firms to provide one bottle every day
to each and every student of 11th and 12th in Goa for just Rs. 2/- per
bottle. Soon we will be giving every student in every college, school and
balvadi in Goa mineral water at just Rs.2/- per bottle.

Question:
"So the Government will be subsidising the students' mineral water?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"You people are never understanding. What money Gorment has got? That is
your money. You are paying tax. We are taking your tax money and giving to
mineral water suppliers. Very simple."

Question:
"Any further such plans?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"Next monsoons we are making mosquito coils compulsory for all houses. That
will take care of malaria problem. Also we will be implementing compulsory
raincoats for all pedestrians and two wheeler riders. People are getting
wet and falling sick because they are using those nonsense cheap Chinese
folding umbrellas. Then they are blaming Gorment."

Question:
"Isn't that impugning on our civil liberty? If I decide to take the risk of
getting wet in the rains, and catching a cold, than why should the
Government interfere?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"Aha! Now you are talking sense. So you get wet and get pneumonia. Where
you will go? Goa Medical College. Who is paying for GMC? Gorment. With
whose money? Your money. See? By wearing raincoat you will be saving your
life and your money!"

Question:
"No! Actually I don't see. As a rational adult I decide to drink the water
I choose to, and get wet in the rain if I want to, and not light mosquito
coils if I don't want to. And maybe I like to eat oily Sorpatel despite
knowing it may cause cholesterol problems. These are risks I decide to
take. The only life effected is my own. The Government has no right to
interfere!"

Somnath Bisleri:
"That is what I am saying only. We are planning to make preparation,
distribution, sale and consumption of Sorpatel illegal from next year. Like
we did with Gutkha."

Question:
"You mean Gutkha is not available in Goa?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"No Guthka! No Matka! Soon Goa will be 100% perfect state. Financially and
physically healthy citizens. No cholesterol. No sickness. No deaths. You
just wait."

Question:
"Till when?"

Somnath Bisleri:
"Till next year. This is election year. We will not implement any unpopular
rules this year. We might lose the election!"

=======

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com
Jan 31, 2004

Contemporary Christmas in Goa

2008-03-23T02:56:00.000-07:00

Contemporary Christmas in Goa

- by Cecil Pinto

That time of the year again. Christmas time.

In addition to the normal early-riser Season's Greetings, strangely enough, I have been getting lots of enquiries from the rest of India, and abroad, on one particular topic. "How is Christmas celebrated in Goa?". Below is an attempt to answer that.

How Goan Catholics celebrate Christmas today.

Holy Mass & Carols: Due to Government restrictions on sound pollution Midnight Masses on Christmas Eve are held at 8 p.m. and get over before 10 p.m. (Rumours are going around that Good Friday is going to be celebrated on Wednesday. Stands to reason, if midnight mass ends before 10 p.m.!). After Mass, in the better parishes, coffee and biscuits are served to the faithful by the industrious looking Parish Council members. Some Carol singing does occur but is normally ruined because the amateur musician accompanying on his synthesizer insists on trying out every tone and effect in his Yamaha PSR memory banks. Nobody plays acoustic instruments anymore. Gerald D'Silva from Mapusa, the last of the guitarists who could play by ear, drowned in Colva at a picnic in October. Starting from the 20th till the 31st of December various local groups go around carol singing. They carry a portable CD player and mime the words.

Dressing Up: All males wear suits for mass. The younger males look quite ridiculous in suits a couple of sizes too big. In a year or so they eventually grow to fill up the suit and by that time it has served then for at least six village feasts, eleven weddings, a funeral and one Feast of Saint Francis Xavier. Goan Catholic females' formal attire is best characterised by the female residents of Agacaim (a village in South-Central Goa). Agacaim females never stitch casual clothes. Formal dresses are stitched for Christmas, St. Lawrence's Feast, Easter, Cousin Brother's Wedding and various smaller feasts - depending on whether they have family members from abroad sending money or not. An Agacaim female's formal dress can best be described as 'zogzogit'. The flashier and louder the material - the better. A formal dress is used for a few feasts and weddings and then is relegated to everyday office wear. Eventually it is used as house dress, a nightie, and finally cut into rags to lift hot hundis from the stove. 'Casual wear', 'home wear' and 'night wear' does not exist in the lexicon of Agacaim females. To a lesser extent the same holds good for most other Goan Catholic females.

Sweets: Traditional sweets such as bebinca, dodol, culculs and neureos are purchased from the local bakeries. Sweet making at home was abandoned in 1976. Nobody has the time. The richer people purchase 'westernised' sweets such as Butter Scotch cakes, Candy and Puddings from the better pastry shops. On Christmas Day itself, a quarter plate with an assortment of local sweets covered by a paper napkin is sent to the immediate neighbours, variously called 'side neighbours', 'front neighbours' and 'back neighbours' (and 'top neighbours' and 'bottom neighbours' in modern apartments) who are on talking terms. Many Goan neighbours have not talked to each other for generations due to either property disputes or pig conflicts. The neighbours reciprocate with a similar offering. The diabetic Gonsalves family from St. Inez has not made or purchased sweets for the last fourteen years. They just take one neighbour's sweets and send it to the other neighbour in their own quarter plate! Nobody is any wiser.

Decorations: Artificial Christmas trees are assembled and 'series' lights strung on balconies. A lit-from-inside star adorns every Catholic house gallery. Most people buy readymade stars. In some parishes star-making competitions are had. Huge stars are made using kitepaper on a metal or bamboo framework. Blaze D'Souza from Benaulim has been winning the village prize since 1995 using the same framework and just changing the kitepaper every year. Some kids make little grottos showing the stable where Christ was born. The more enterprising youngsters, in addition to the standard statuettes, insert any figurines they have at hand. So it is not at all shocking to see He-Man, Barbie, Spiderman, PokeMon and a Jeep (with flashing lights) accompanying the shepherds, camels and three kings.

Greetings: All Goans have e-mail, mobile SMS and phones - so greeting cards are redundant. Everyday in the Classified Adverts under "Misc. For Sale" you will find failed entrepreneurs trying to fob off their card racks and greeting cards on naïve fresh-meat wannabes who want to get into business (locally referred to as 'putting my own'). It is quite normal to receive an e-mail from your ex-classmate, now settled in Canada, which says something like "Hi all, Hope you have a Merry Christmas and Bright New Year 2004! Attached photo is not a blank white page. It's the view from my window. Any window". You will find the same mail has been c.c.ed to everyone in the sender's Address Book which includes 12 people who gave up their Hotmail address 3 years back and 2 people who died last year. Some others will send a nifty PPS file or a link to an e-greeting site where little Christmas Trees and Santas dance to Christmas Carols. Very few people actually bother to spend a few seconds to write a separate e-mail to each person they want to greet.

Celebrations: Christmas "Trees" (kids' parties) are held throughout the season where little children are entertained by semi-drunk and overstuffed Christmas Fathers (there is no Santa Claus in Goa) and underfed 'clowns'. The young adults mostly go to Dine & Dance events held at various outdoor venues. Entry Passes are sold very cheap and even distributed free. But a table and chairs will cost you an arm and a leg. And a leg of chicken will cost you a head and shoulders. Liquor is normally 'sponsored' and hence relatively cheap. Loud live pop music is played through amplifiers, mixers and speakers collectively called 'sound' (eg. Forefront always carries their own 'sound'). The richer people go to horribly expensive theme affairs at Five Star hotels where for about a month's salary you can meet other rich people and see huge 'thermacol' cut-outs of whatever the 'theme' is.

Middle aged and elderly Goans sit at home, put on the Jim Reeves' Christmas Carols cassette, and reminiscence about the good old days.

--------

This article appeared in Herald dated 20th December 2003

-------

www.goa-world.com/about_goa/

(Pictures, courtesy: Rewon Gomes & GWS-Kuwait)

A Goanese by any name

2008-03-23T02:53:00.000-07:00

A Goanese by any name

No self respecting Goan anywhere in the world will tolerate being
referred to as a 'Goanese'. Yet an Internet search for "Goanese" in
my favourite Search Engine, Google (www.google.com), gave me about
one thousand six hundred links!

Of course most of these were from online recipe compilations, or
menus at restaurants, or ill researched travel sites where Goanese is
often wrongly used as an adjective instead of Goan. For example a
respectable online site like Lonely Planet (www.lonelyplanet.com)
states "Calangute isn't one of the best Goanese beaches: there are
hardly any palms..." Surprisingly Goanese as a synonym for the
Konkani language also featured on many sites (eg.
www.ethnologue.com). And yes, of course, Goanese to describe the
natives of Goa!

This error isn't recent though. Till a few decades back Goans were
often referred to as Goanese in British records and as Mesticos and
Canarans in Portuguese records in East Africa. In the Portuguese
language the word for Goans is: "Goeses" (plural) and "Goes"
(singular) or 'Goesa' (female). Alternative Portuguese terms
are "goano" (male) and "goana" (female),

Even the Encyclopaedia Brittanica 1995
(www.goanet.com/text/general/intro.htm) states "Many Goanese bear
Portuguese names and are partly of Portuguese descent as a result of
intermarriage between early Portuguese settlers and the local
inhabitants." Besides being linguistically inaccurate, the other fact
of the matter is that the Portuguese surnames came by during mass
conversions, when the presiding Portuguese officer gave the recently
baptised the legacy of his name.

"Welcome to Goa, the land of taverns, feni, carnival, churches and
carefree Goanese", said the controversial Surajkund brochure released
by the Haryana Government and reported on by Sandesh Prabhudesai
(www.goanews.com/17jan01.htm). Further back The Catholic
Encyclopaedia of 1907 (http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/02644a.htm)
states "In 1720, on political grounds, the Goanese clergy were
expelled by the Government..."
Perhaps the longest ever argument on, and dissection of, the term
Goanese was held on The Goan Forum (www.colaco.net/1/goaniz.htm). A
wonderful read I would highly recommended to anyone wishing to know
more about this term.

To condense: Perhaps not as derogatory as 'nigger' or 'Paki', but
Goanese still rankles. Jorge de Abreu Noronha points out that,
linguistically, it would be OK if someone called a Goan a Goese, but
not Goan + ese = Goanese.

The argument being that only names which have 'n', 'm' or 't'
preceding the terminal 'a' get converted to 'ese'. For example China -
Chinese, Burma - Burmese. But Sri Lanka - Sri Lankan, Arabia -
Arabian, India -Indian (not Indianese!), Jamaica - Jamaican, Russia -
Russian, Croatia -Croatian, Australia - Australian....

An interesting anecdote: In March 1984 Canada based Goan writer Ben
Antao, and his Italian wife, had the privilege of being introduced to
Pierre Trudeau, the late Prime Minister of Canada, as being from Goa.
Mr. Trudeau asked Antao, "Is your wife a Goanese too?" To which he
replied "No, she's not a Goan; she's Italian."

---------

Goan = Goan origin?

My last column on Goan Fiction Writers made many upright readers
criticise my inclusion of Heta Pandit. Their argument was 'She is not
a Goan". When I explained that she definitely was a Goan as compared
to say another writer, who was born and raised in Africa, is
currently a citizen of USA, and has never lived in Goa. "But he is of
Goan origin' or "He has Goan blood" is the common refrain. Fair
enough. But my article was on Goan Writers and not on Writers of Goan
Origin. There is a difference.

Regardless, in the interest of these hair splitters let me give an
example.

Edward Carneiro was born and raised in Canada. His father was born in
Karachi and lived most of his life in Uganda. Edward's mother is of
Sicilian origin. His paternal grandparents were born and raised in
Karachi. His paternal great grandparents had left Goa for Mumbai and
then migrated to Karachi. Edward has never been to Goa and shows no
interest in doing so. Neither he or his parents can speak Konkani.
They attend the Uganda-Montreal Goans Ball every year (and partake of
Continental fare, as the venue does not allow outside Goan catering!).

Rajan Narayan has been the editor of O Heraldo since its English
inception.
His work for the improvement of Goa and Goans is well documented. As
well as his many adverse trysts with violence and corruption. Till
date his fiery editorial keeps crooked politicians in check. Rajan
Narayan has lived and worked in Goa, for the betterment of Goans, for
close to two decades.

Edward Carneiro is easily accepted as a Goan, but Rajan Narayan is
considered a non-Goan. One is of Goan origin. One is not. I wonder
who is more Goan?

The 19th August 2002 issue of Outlook Magazine (www.outlookindia.com)
polled thousands of respondents all over India to vote for the
greatest Indian of post-Independence India. Mother Theresa won hands
down. Her Albanian origins did not matter. Her life and her work for
so many years, in India and for Indians, is what made her the
greatest Indian.

-----------------

WEBQUEST was my monthly column in Goa Today magazine. This is the
second installment which appeared in the December 2002 issue.

Cecil Pinto Nov 26, 2003
==========

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

A Short History of Goan Briefs

2008-03-23T02:52:00.000-07:00

Goan for the Jocular

by Cecil Pinto / The Times of India
Nov 5, 2003

Everybody knows that Wendell Rodrigues is writing this Great Book of Goan Fashion. It will trace the History of Style in Goa from pre-historic times to the present. Since Wendell is right now very busy handling the thousands of international bulk orders that have poured in after India Fashion Week, he has enlisted me to help him out with some chapters. The first chapter I get to work on is Male Undergarments (Wendell has selfishly kept the Women's Lingerie section for himself!). My research till date has come up with some startling facts. Here is a preview of my initial findings. The timelines and dates are a bit flawed but I'm working on it.

------

In pre-historic times Goan males roamed around bereft of any undergarments, or overgarments for that matter. Civilisation was centered around the coastal belt of Calangute, Candolim and Baga and the diet was mostly fish-curry and rice. One day in 3024 BC some adventurous males from the Bhau tribe went into the interiors and captured and killed a panther. The skin was claimed by the leader of the tribe. This pompous guy, named Bhimblo, used to go around the villages with the panther skin draped around his shoulders and called everyone else "nanga panga". This incensed the other tribes who were pure vegitarians. They moved to Anjuna and Vagator and finally to Mandrem and Arambol where some of their descendants still laze around in the buff and don't eat meat.

The Bhau tribe thus came to control the lucrative mainstream coastal belt. They all started draping panther pelts on their shoulders and building shacks on the beachside and rentback condominiums. One day a young tribe member killed a lion in the nearby jungle and returned with the hide. The other tribe members all wanted a piece of the hide and in the ensuing melee the hide was torn to pieces. One enterprising young man, Bablo, wrapped a piece of lion-hide round his waist and let the pelt hang down and hide his manhood. This was shocking. In those days one's manhood had to be proudly displayed - to attract females for purposes of procreation. This new garment would make a female unable to distinguish between a tiny or a well-endowed male. It was an instant hit accessory. As you must have guessed, the Bhaus were not very well-endowed! The first ever undergarment was born in Goa!

Bablo instantly registered his invention with the local Panchayat, as a "lioncloth" and wanted Royalty Tax from everyone who wore such an undergarment. The other Bhaus just ignored him and wore lion pelts anyway and called them 'loincloths' to avoid taxes. The first instance of product piracy thus was also in Goa.

These loincloths continued to be standard underwear (later called innerwear) for Goan males for many centuries. In 1267 AD, or thereabouts, Goa came under the Vijaynagar Empire. These Vijaynagar folks were extremely fastidious about religion and worshipped the banyan tree. They wore a light cotton sleeveless innershirt while performing their pujas (in modern times this has evolved into a single string worn diagonally across the chest). This innergarment was quickly adopted by the ill clad Goan tribes and for lack of a better name they called it a 'banian' too.

We fast forward now to 1510 AD when the Portuguese landed in Goa. They were fascinated by this local 'banian' and adopted it themselves as an innergarment. Back in Europe, specially in fashion crazed France, it became an instant hit with variations for the colder climes there. So a standard banian got named Singlette, a banian with short sleeves was a Doublette, a banian with long sleeves a Tiblettee, and a whole-body covering banian was an Omlette.

The next major change came in 1634 AD. The Great Scotland Fire destroyed all the distilleries there and rendered many distillers jobless. Many of these tradesmen found their way to India and to Goa. They helped the locals perfect their distillation procedures and that's why we get such good Fenis today. They also brought with them their fascination for checkered designs like the ones on their kilts. Using local handlooms they started producing large handkerchiefs with a checkered red design which they called 'Scotch Tees'. A local Goan descendant of Bablo, in the manner of his innovative ancestor, one day wrapped a checkered Scotch Tee around his waist and strutted around proudly as an insult to the Scots who he disliked. "Bloody Charter Trash!", he exclaimed. Being the trendsetter he was, others started using the Scotch Tee as an undergarment and started calling it the Kashti, again to avoid copyright implications. Thus was born the quintessential Goan undergarment - the Kashti.

========
The humour column above appeared in Goa Plus, the Friday Magazine section of The Times of India, on 22nd August 2003.
========

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

Rajan and his non-preview Preview

2008-03-23T02:50:00.000-07:00

Rajan and his non-preview Preview

Rajan Narayan (RN) wrote:
For the last three weeks, we have been printing and distributing four pages of the Independent Goa Observer in print form. We have been doing this, not as a preview of how the Independent Goa Observer will finally look like.

Cecil Pinto (CP)
Then why is 'A Preview' printed on the very first page?

--------

RN
We have been doing it for the benefit of those who miss their weekly
adrenal-pumping Stray Thoughts.

CP
Rajan definitely has no issues on humility!!

---------

RN
Because we were told that there were many die hard fans of Bolshoi, the
Stray Thoughts mascot, did not own computers. And even many of those who
did, found it a strain to read it on the small screen. In fact, we
understand that cyber cafes have been doing roaring business supplying
print outs of Stray Thoughts.

CP
Indeed yes! I was also told that currently more people read Stray Thoughts
than all the newspapers in Goa combined! One Cyber Cafe owner has purchased
a Kinetic Honda on just his one day's earnings of Stray Thoughts printouts.
He's planning to keep all his computers dedicatedly connected to
www.rajannarayan.com and is renaming his Cyber Cafe "Rajan-O-Rama 24/7".

But seriously...
Looks like Rajan has already identified his majority target audience as
non-computer owners. Interesting profile for potential advertisers.

-----------
RN
We have been so pre occupied with the setting p of an office, recruiting
professional staff and raising funds for your independent media
organization. We can assure you that raising funds from businessmen towards promoter s capital has not been easy. Because there are not to many people who wish to take the risk of offending a vindictive Chief Minister by any kind of association with the new media organization.

CP
Quite possible. And there are many other people who just don't want to sink their money into a 'independent media organisation' which till now appears to be made up of just one ex-editor and his journalist spouse. Till date no other reputed journalists' or professionals' names have been mentioned in connection with this 'independent media organisation'.
--------

RN
We have not been able to dress up and make the sample preview copies as
pretty as many of you would like to see it. Not because we do not have a
commitment to excellence, but because we believe that excellence is
expensive. We are being sustained now by the hundreds of small people from retired pensioners to junior resident doctors to even students. When the Independent Goa Observer is formally launched, we assure you that it will look as sleek and well designed as any other tabloid newspaper in the country.

CP
At Rs. 10/- a pop it definitely must be the most expensive tabloid in the country.
It better be good!

----------

RN
In the meanwhile, if lipstick and mascara and rouge are more important to you than content, you will just have to wait a while.

CP
The packaging and positioning is as important as the product. Any publisher worth his salt knows that. The first "non-preview' issue has neither credible relevant 'content' nor 'appearance'.
----------

RN
And the sooner you being participating, the faster we will be able to give you the kind of prerogative that you expect.

CP
Before asking for 'participation' Rajan should proffer some credible proof that the IGO is not going to be like the dozens of one-man's-voice rags that have appeared and disappeared so often. The 'non-preview' printed sample, or whatever he calls it, is a waste of newsprint.
--------

RN
And of course, we will do Parrikar bashing. Whenever he deserves to be
bashed. But we will also bash the Luizinho Faleiros and the Wilfred D
Souzas and the Ravi Naiks and the Pratapsing Ranes and even Floriano Lobos if we find that they go about doing damage to our good old Goan trees barking them up the wrong side.

CP
If I just want to hear 'politico bashing' I can get lots of it in the local tavern.

-------
RN
And we shall bash the friendly neighborhood MNC selling fizzy drinks or
temptation in the form of chocolates if there is DDT in the fizz and worms in the chocolate. Our major concern, of course, will be worms in politics and the bureaucracy, and in business and in sports and indeed, in every area, including among non-governmental organizations.

CP
That sounds interesting. Hope Rajan can deliver the goods.

---------
RN
Not withstanding the fact that my better half Tara Narayan, who is a senior journalist in her own right, objects strongly to comparing any human being with any creature of the natural world, including worms. Genuine, honest to goodness worms, make for excellent organic manure. Showman worms don't.

CP
And neither does meaningless rhetoric. If Tara Narayan plans to continue
with her unwanted and unsolicited lifestyle advice to public figures in the columns of the IGO then maybe all is indeed lost. Goans are looking forward to a well produced paper which will inform and educate and serve as a ferocious watchdog against corruption and mis-governance. Not a food column with pretensions to armchair counselling.

I have received a lot of private feed back on my initial analysis of the
upcoming IGO. Without exception everyone agreed that this food/cookery
column has no place in this IGO, and in fact had no place in Herald too. If Rajan wants to turn a deaf ear on the pulse of the public that is his
prerogative. But if he feels he can use the hard-earned money of Goans to start his IGO and run it as a vehicle for his wife's column, then there's something wrong in the planning.

-----------

RN
>We have been bringing out the sample preview print editions only to
>maintain continuity. Because, human memory is very brief. And we do not
>want to go through the whole business of resurrecting ourselves from scratch.

CP
Very good thinking. But I wish Rajan would make up his mind if this is a
'preview' or not. At one time he says it isn't, and the next moment he says it is.

-------

RN
>What do you get if you invest Rs.1000 or multiples thereof?
>A subscription copy free of charge worth Rs.520
>Free advertising space of equivalent value.

CP
Interesting.
---------

RN
>What do you get if you subscribe to the Independent Goa Observer?
>One-year subscription You get 52 copies at Rs.10 of the value of Rs.520
>for Rs.450 delivered to you at home.
>You get a free birthday cake for one member of your family on his or her >birthday of the value Rs.150

CP
If I want cake I will buy it myself. What are you selling here? A hard
fitting news and analysis newspaper - or cakes? What's this obsession with food?

--------

RN
>Two year subscription Rs.900 instead of the cover price of Rs.1040
>You also get dinner coupon for two at a wide range of restaurants of the >value of Rs.400

CP
What's this obsession with food!

----------

RN
>Three year subscription Rs.1200 instead of the cover price of Rs.1560.
>One night stay including all meals (no liquor) for two at a wide range
>of three star resorts.

CP
Now boarding - and food.
What's this obsession with food!

We don't want food. We want news and analysis and political debate and
exposes and.....

Cecil
=======

PREVIEW SAMPLE PRINT COPIES

For the last three weeks, we have been printing and distributing four pages of the Independent Goa Observer in print form. We have been doing this, not as a preview of how the Independent Goa Observer will finally look like. We have been doing it for the benefit of those who miss their weekly adrenal-pumping Stray Thoughts. Because we were told that there were many die hard fans of Bolshoi, the Stray Thoughts mascot, did not own computers. And even many of those who did, found it a strain to read it on the small screen. In fact, we understand that cyber cafes have been doing roaring business supplying print outs of Stray Thoughts. We have been so pre occupied with the setting p of an office, recruiting professional staff and raising funds for your independent media organization. We can assure you that raising funds from businessmen towards promoter's capital has not been easy. Because there are not to many people who wish to take the risk of offending a vindictive Chief Minister by any kind of association with the new media organization. We have not been able to dress up and make the sample preview copies as pretty as many of you would like to see it. Not because we do not have a commitment to excellence, but because we believe that excellence is expensive. We are being sustained now by the hundreds of small people from retired pensioners to junior resident doctors to even students. When the Independent Goa Observer is formally launched, we assure you that it will look as sleek and well designed as any other tabloid newspaper in the country. In the meanwhile, if lipstick and mascara and rouge are more important to you than content, you will just have to wait a while. And the sooner you being participating, the faster we will be able to give you the kind of prerogative that you expect. And of course, we will do Parrikar bashing. Whenever he deserves to be bashed. But we will also bash the Luizinho Faleiros and the Wilfred D'Souzas and the Ravi Naiks and the Pratapsing Ranes and even Floriano Lobos if we find that they go about doing damage to our good old Goan trees barking them up the wrong side. And we shall bash the friendly neighborhood MNC selling fizzy drinks or temptation in the form of chocolates if there is DDT in the fizz and worms in the chocolate. Our major concern, of course, will be worms in politics and the bureaucracy, and in business and in sports and indeed, in every area, including among non-governmental organizations. Not withstanding the fact that my better half Tara Narayan, who is a senior journalist in her own right, objects strongly to comparing any human being with any creature of the natural world, including worms. Genuine, honest to goodness worms, make for excellent organic manure. Showman worms don't.

We have been bringing out the sample preview print editions only to maintain continuity. Because, human memory is very brief. And we do not want to go through the whole business of resurrecting ourselves from scratch.

What do you get if you invest Rs.1000 or multiples thereof?
a.. A subscription copy free of charge worth Rs.520
b.. Free advertising space of equivalent value.

What do you get if you subscribe to the Independent Goa Observer?
· One-year subscription -You get 52 copies at Rs.10 of the value of Rs.520 for Rs.450 delivered to you at home.
You get a free birthday cake for one member of your family on his or her birthday of the value Rs.150
· Two year subscription - Rs.900 instead of the cover price of Rs.1040
You also get dinner coupon for two at a wide range of restaurants of the value of Rs.400
· Three year subscription - Rs.1200 instead of the cover price of Rs.1560.
One night stay including all meals (no liquor) for two at a wide range of three star resorts.

______

(Thanks to Floriano Lobo and The Goan Forum)

- Forwarded by www.goa-world.com

Bonderam Date Confusion & Other Divar Trivia

2008-03-23T02:49:00.000-07:00

Bonderam Date Confusion & Other Divar Trivia
____________________________________________

It's that time of the year again. The Bonderam
festival at Divar approaches. And as usual there is
confusion about exactly what day the Bonderam festival
is going to be celebrated.

For those who came in late, Bonderam is the Annual
Flag Festival held in Divar Island in August every
year.

To understand....

The island of Divar consists of 4 communidades
- St. Matias (also called Malar) Communidade
- Naroa Communidade
- Goltim Communidade
- Navelim Communidade

In ancient times the Communidades used to have a flag
festival just preceding the harvest festival. Flag
bearers accompanied by local musicians (and later a
Brass Band), would walk along the boundaries of each
Communidade demarcating their holdings. Altercations
would crop up and mock fights were had using
'fotases'. ( A 'fotas' is pea-shooter sort of weapon
made from a length of hollow bamboo. If particular
seeds named 'teflan' (Indian Pepper) are used as
ammunition the sting of a 'fotas' shot can be
quite painful).

In those olden days the Communidade would distribute
excess earnings (part of the produce from the
cultivators) among the Gaunkars as 'zonno'. That is
whatever money was left after maintenance work etc.
had been carried out. A certain amount would be kept
aside and given to the specified Gaunkar whose
turn it was to celebrate the Bonderam that year. The
Gaunkar was also free to add from his own pocket to
add more grandeur to the celebrations.

This money was used to (1) Pay for the musicians/Brass
Band (2) Pay the flag bearers (3) Celebrate the
'konssanchem' fest the next day. So there
were 4 Bonderam Festivals in Divar celebrated by each
of the Communidades separately. This festival, like
the Communidades, predates the Portuguese invasion of
Goa.

The Post Liberation Tenancy Act (Land to the Tiller)
dealt the first big blow to this festival. Tenants of
the Communidades became owners of their land and so no
revenue accumulated to the Communidades and hence some

Communidades went broke and the celebrations of
Bonderam were curtailed.

The Piedade Youth Association, a vibrant body of young
Divarkars, took up the celebration of the Goltim &
Navelim Communidades in earnest and revived this dying
festival about 10 years back. They introduced
competitive floats between the wards-troupes (Divar
Centre, Vittogen, Santabhatt-Jingle Bells,
Maddant-Stars, Porbuvaddo-Romantic, Premier) live
music, lotteries and many such innovations to make
Bonderam a truly Grand celebration. These PYA
celebrations are the big Bonderam celebrations that
everyone refers to.

-----------------
The other Bonderam...

The St. Mathias (Malar) Communidade has been regularly
celebrating Bonderam annually (one week before the
popular Divar Bonderam) but in a subdued fashion and
the traditional way. A brass band, flag bearers etc.
Since 2000 the Malar Bonderam celebration have been a
bit upbeat wit the introduction of family floats, folk
entertainers, prizes etc.

This year the Malar Bonderam are on the 17th of August
and the more popular large scale Divar Bonderam will
be on the 23th of August.
-----------------

Interesting Trivia about Divar and Bonderam

There are three Parishes on the island
Piedade - Our Lady of Piety
Malar - Saint Mathias (Also has statues of the twin
saints Cosme & Damian)
Naroa - Holy Spirit

From Naroa in Divar one can cross over by Ferry to
Naroa in Mayem-Bicholim.

Between Divar and St. Estevam there is a tiny island
called Akado which has a Chapel but is administered by
the Naroa Parish.

Between Divar and Chorao exists another island Vanxim
(with a connecting ferry) inhabited by about 30
families having its own Church and Chapel, visited by
the St. Mathias Parish Priest.

There are two Village Panchayats in Divar
Goltim-Navelim Panchayat, St. Matias Panchayat
(includes Naroa and Vanxim)

The Naroa and Navelim Communidades had stopped
Bonderam celebrations long back due to lack of funds.

Flags of different countries were used in the Bonderam
celebrations earlier. But since 2001, in the interests
of Political Correctness, just plain coloured flags
are used and 'fotas' shooting has been banned within
certain areas. Outsiders run the risk of having their
'fotases' confiscated on the Ferry Boat itself by the
police.

The PYA Bonderam lottery is unique because if the
prize number is from among the unsold tickets then a
new draw is held immediately until the prize is
actually given away. This year a fancy Karizma 180 cc.
Motorcycle is the first prize and at Rs. 25/- a pop it
is an interesting bet.

-------------------
This report has been complied by Cecil Pinto
(son-in-law of Divar) with the assistance of Nobert
Pereira (Gaunkar-of-Goltim and resident of Divar). If
you find any errors in this report please bring it to
our attention.
Queries on other aspects of Divar / Bonderam most
welcome. Please forward this to any person you know
who might have an interest in these topics.)
-------------------

Viva Bonderam!
Aug 12, 2003

For pictures and reports check out:
http://www.goa-world.com/bonderam/

Courtesy: The Goan Forum
www.yahoogroups.com/group/goa-goans/
www.thegoanforum.com

Fashion: To Bombay & Back

2008-03-23T02:46:00.001-07:00

Fashion: To Bombay & Back

Goan for the Jocular
by Cecil Pinto

In 1980 I had my yearly vacation with relatives in Mumbai (formerly Bombay). Every year I would spend two to three weeks in May shuttling between various ‘cousins’ spread over Colaba, Dadar, Bandra and Malad. It used to be a very exciting time for me. My cousins would go out of their way to show me the splendours of the city. I would return to tell my friends here in Goa about all the wonderful sights I had seen… a pickpocketer being hammered at a railway station, slum dwellers defecating in a line along the railway tracks…

I once even saw Rajesh Khanna (my hero at the time) actually walk past within touching distance as I ate a Bhel Puri on Carter Road. Now that was really something. My Bombay cousins in turn would take great pleasure in introducing around their ill-dressed country bumpkin cousin, who had read more books than all of their friends combined.

I’m digressing here. Back to 1980. What made this vacation different is that this was the year it dawned on me that I had this strange 'gift' for starting fashion trends. You see the previous year, 1979, when I had gone to Bombay the clothes I wore were particularly shabby. I was a bit ashamed to tell my cousins’ friends that these were hand-me-down clothes from a long line of older male relatives which finally came down to my brothers and me. “How come they’re so faded and so rough?”.

That’s when I had an inspirational thought. “It’s the stone washing” I said, and embarked on a long and complicated explanation that there was a soap shortage in Goa and how we washed our clothes with gravel, which cleaned the dirt but left the clothes slightly worn out and faded. The empty headed Bombay folks fell for the tale. In 1980 when I returned to the city wonder of wonders, ‘stone-washed’ clothes were the rage!

It so happened that same year I burned a third-hand denim jacket of mine while ironing it. To hide the triangular iron singe I had made other similar burns on the jacket to make it appear like a deliberate random pattern. Sure enough the Bombay folks were fascinated with this. Again a contrived story about how one should rinse clothes quickly through an acid solution… and yes, you guessed right. Within weeks ‘acid washed’ clothes were the in thing in Bombay.

Next year I crossed the gender barrier. No, not what you're thinking. That I will describe some other time. My cute (then now she’s gross!) cousin Wendy was always getting her trouser legs stuck in her bicycle chain. I suggested she just cut off the trouser legs below the knee and hem it up neatly. “My friends will laugh at me” she said. “Not if you think of a nice name for this new design”, I told her. After a lot of brain wracking we had the answer “pedal pushers”. I recall that one even went international.

The next few years I went ballistic in Bombay. Wore a sleeveless banian to a movie theatre once because all my shirts (both of them) were dirty. Soon everyone was into 'trunk tops', and body building. Happened to tear my denim jeans at the knees in a motorcycle accident and couldn’t really afford a new pair. Darning was out of the question as they were really badly frayed on both knees. So I just wore them as they were. You are not going to believe this. Soon college teens in Bombay were actually tearing their jeans at the knees and walking about like tramps! And when I hit upon the brainwave of knee and elbow patches to disguise the holes…the corporate guys followed suit.

So it went on over the years. I wore something out of necessity and the Bombay folks made it into a fashion statement.

These days I see every pretty little college girl dressed identically. Trousers slightly flared at the bottom. Tops a few sizes too tight. I wonder who started this trend. I can imagine a poor Goan teenager trying out here mother’s old bell bottoms and doing a bit of modification. And wearing the same undersize tops because she can’t afford anything new. One trip to Bombay. It becomes the ‘happening’ statement there. And percolates back down to Goa where everybody apes the Bombay fashions.
I hope the fashion world is taking note of this. EVERY major fashion statement has been born out of necessity, in Goa. And I was the pioneer. Hope Wendell Rodricks is reading this too, while he researches his book on The History of Goan Fashion. I'm determined to get my name into that book at any cost. Even if it means spinning a lot of yarn.

========
The humour column above appeared in Goa Plus, the Friday Magazine section of The Times of India, on 5th September 2003.
========

Rural Celebrities

2008-03-23T02:41:00.000-07:00

Goan for the Jocular
by Cecil Pinto
-------------------

Journalist ETHEL D'COSTA started the trend, in Goa, of
writing about celebrity parties using BOLD and CAPITAL
letters for people's names. Rather like shouting.
MARGARET MASCARENHAS took it a step further by naming
all her new-found neighbours in Madel, Tivim, in her
excellent column 'Urban Goenkar' in Goa Today. Can be
quite frustrating for common folk like me who:
(a) Don't ever get invited to these celebrity dos and
(b) Don't live in Madel, Tivim.

I'm going to write about one of the rare parties I got
invited to and hopefully many more invitations will
follow.

On 22nd February - there was just one party worth
going to in Goa - if you were invited, that is. The
wedding party of KENNETH RIBEIRO (ex-Ucassaim) and his
lovely Danish wife SOPHIE. Yes she's actually from
Denmark.
They met a few months back at a cybercafe in Panjim
and after a whirlwind romance got married in Denmark
and are now back holidaying in Goa.
Hopefully that last sentence should revive the sagging
cybercafe business in Panjim.

The small party was held at JOHNAS CORREIA's house in
Carona, Aldona. Built in the post colonial style of
pre-Portuguese architectural….. I can't do this! It's
just a nice big old Goan house. FRANKIE ALVARES was
one of the first guests to arrive who along with
Danish architecture student ANDREAS, a friend of
Sophie's, put up the series lights and some crepe
paper buntings. The party slowly swung into action by
about 9 p.m.

GORDON LOBO was his usual exuberant self, mixing
cocktails, which involved putting something, that
resembled cabbage leaves, in everyone's glasses.
His talkative wife FLAVIA was the self appointed
photographer for the evening and was all over the
place with her compact fixed focus Minolta.
Aldona's celebrated photographer HESTON SEQUEIRA was
present but without his camera. But his bald head
provided enough reflected light from Flavia's camera
flash. TONY FERNANDES compered the function with a
mike connected to the CD player. KENNEDY & TINA
PEREIRA were down from Kuwait with their lovely three
month old CHILD. It can be most embarrassing when you
can't remember a child's name, or whether it's a boy
or girl. "How's the little one?" is a safe bet in such
circumstances. Then play it by ear depending on the
response.
After enough drinks had been served an impromptu toast
was raised by JOHNAS CORREIA (I've highlighted his
name twice so far. He owes me big-time now).
This was the cue for STEVE RIBEIRO to sing one of his
operatic songs.
FORTUNATO & LIRA PINTO were present too but
fortunately there was no ballroom music playing and so
they could not give one of their dancing demos.
Fortunato sang a humorous ditty which paved the way
for a lot of lively, and suggestive Mandos and Party
songs which everyone joined in and Tony accompanied
with his box-guitar.

Kenneth's brother DJ YURI turned up later in the night
with his sensationally beautiful GIRLFRIEND (I was
introduced but was too awestruck at the time - plus
Gordon's cocktails were taking effect). Yuri was
cajoled into playing some of his CDs which were then
immediately rejected and the Mandos started again.
Sophie's tall, sexy Danish friend, CAN'T REMEMBER
HER NAME, sang a Danish love song which everyone
appreciated but nobody understood. With a figure like
that you don't need to sing to be appreciated. Just
be!

BRUNO FERNANDES was there with his WIFE. So was
GREGORY CARVALHO and WIFE with RITA their charming
daughter. ERIC & LYDIA D'SOUZA too seemed to be having
a good time with Gordon's concoctions. Delicious grub
was prepared by DIMI and his ASSISTANT (How does Ethel
remember all the names at the parties she attends?
Must be keeping sober and going around with a
notepad). Kenneth's mother MARGE and lovely sister
TANYA were present but not doing much interacting
(read drinking!). GORDON and FLAVIA LOBO were all over
the place. Mentioned them already? So what? I did say
it was a 'small' party.

Must say Kenneth has come a long way from throwing up
at parties to throwing a good party. Keep in mind that
I attended the party with my ever smiling wife
BEATRICE and sons DESMOND & FABIAN. We were given
extra special attention because we had carried along a
huge gift. REMO FERNANDES, MICHELLE, SANJEET
RODRIGUES (who lives close by in Carona), WENDELL
RODRICKS, JEROME, COLIN CURRY, DONNA, ETHEL D'COSTA &
MARGARET MASCARENHAS were not even invited! So there!

====
The humour column above appeared in Goa Plus,
the Friday Magazine section of The Times of India,
on 7th March 2003.
===
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EXPRESSIONS
The Flower Shop (Goa)
www.goa-world.com/expressions/
Email: expressions@apexmail.com
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