A Red Letter Day for me! Official Launch of my Book on Goa in Goa!

Tuesday, January 22, 2019

Panjim, Goa

A Red Letter Day for me! Official Launch of my Book on Goa in Goa!

Namaste from Goa!

As expected, I slept like a baby in a four-poster bed with a frilled lace canopy in a room filled with teak and rosewood Portuguese-era furniture.  Once, a long time ago in my hoary past, I had slept in such a room—but I have less happy memories of those times which are best forgotten (or repressed!)

After blogging and checking Twitter (no Times today as the WiFi, though connected, is giving me no reception at all which means that my daily newspaper cannot be dowloaded), I climbed down from the bed—and I do mean climbed as the bed is so high that it is a feat to not break your back each time to climb in and out of it! I went in for a shower, dressed, packed my bag and got out of my room with the eagerness of someone who knows that a good brekkie awaits.

Buffet Brekkie in the Panjim Inn:

The Panjim Inn is run by the Welcom Group of India which has bought three sprawling Portuguese bungalows and converted them into boutique hotels. As I walked past the roomy corridors of this homestead, I marveled at the brilliant internal architecture of these homes that the Portuguese built and which they inhabited in their Indian colonial heyday. Thankfully, they are being preserved—either as hotels or by being bought up by wealthy Russians, Israelis and British people who lavish care and money on them to bring them back to snuff. I understand that they are now selling for serious money even in the heart of old villages that Time forgot because celebrities of all sorts have ‘discovered’ Goa and are living amidst its swaying palms—folks like the novelist Amitabh Ghosh, for one. 

At any rate, I enjoyed striding down its beautiful mosaic-tiled floors past endless rooms filled with more carved curved furniture (good things they didn’t have TV in those days as they would have made very uncomfortable seating for watching two-hour long films—come to think of it, that furniture was probably designed just for women in long full skirts that looked pretty spread about those curving arms. I have only to go to my friend Marianel’s house in Girgaum to know how uncomfortable they can feel if you actually want to flop in them!   

Anyway, in a large dining room filled with vitrines crammed with ceramic antiques, were marble topped rosewood tables and cane-seated chairs and all the trappings of a nice buffet Brekkie. I requested the chef to make me a masala omelette which he did with aplomb and which I ate with two links of chicken sausages and something called a cauliflower casserole which looked far better than it tasted! With coffee, it made a good start to the day. Tomorrow, I shall go for the French Toast! Although I have to say that I saw it was made from white sandwich break when all that delectable Goan Pao would be the perfect vehicle for a fried egg-based sweet custard! 

Out with My Camera for a Walk in Old Panjim Village:

I had about 45 minutes at my disposal after breakfast and before the start of the second day of the conference—this time at the Instituto Camoes de Lingua e Cultura Portuguesa (The Camoes Institute for Portuguese Language and Literature). So off I went with my backpack and my camera slung around my neck to get some pictures of old-world Goa. 

And what a treat that early morning walk turned it to be! People had begun stirring by them and there was traffic, although not quite so chaotic. I walked down January 31Road (Rua 31 Janviero I think!) and was simply enchanted. All along the main village artery, old dilapidated homesteads have been refurbished and painted in bright primary colors imitative of Old Portuguese Quarters.  There are fruit colors on every wall—the colors of Goa’s tropical fruit: jackfruit, Alfonso mangoes, tangerines. Those, and vivid red apples, purple grapes. I could not stop clicking. In addition to the vivid colors on the walls, there are the wrought-iron balconies (Balcao in Portuguese)—such a Mediterranean feature. Plus there are stone benches attached to the stucco walls—families sat out on these benches in the evening and took the air as they gossiped with other villagers. There are spindly pillars that support colonnaded arcades and the wide wraparound verandahs of the top floor. Everywhere the starkness of whitewash offered a contrast to the bright colors. I took so many pictures of gorgeous house set within walled fences from which magenta bougainvillea tumbled and small front gardens in which baby papayas were ripe for the picking. Walking at leisure, I passed the old office of the O Heraldo (Portuguese) newspaper that is now defunct. As the Portuguese speakers have moved out of Goa (to Lisbon) or have left this world, these vehicles of communication from a lost era are dying or have died. 

Finally, the long street brought me to the banks of the Mandovi River. I could see the notorious bridge over it (somewhat reminiscent of the Verrazano Bridge in New York) that had collapsed a few years ago to the horror of the nation. This stretch of river bank has been converted into a casino playground of sorts—there are casinos on the bank and in ferries moored along the banks. It is all very commercial in these parts. I took pictures of more buildings—slightly more official ones such as the Old Customs House (now painted indigo as this was one of the products that had customs duties levied on it) and the Old Post Office (still in use) as also the Old Secretariat. Wonderful! For any lovers of history of antiquities, this is Paradise. This is the sort of aimless ramble that produces the most wondrous sights and I loved every bit of it. 

Then it was time for me to find the Camoes Institute as just as I began retracing my steps, I ran into two Portuguese professors from Lisbon who were also making their way to the same venue.  We fell in stride as we got talking and they directed me to the place as they were off to exchange some money.

Morning Session at the Conference:

I looked forward to the morning session at the conference as my publisher Frederick Noronha and my friend Ashley D’Mello were both presenting papers on the same panel on the press in Goa. Meeting and greeting everyone and taking our seats took a few minutes. It gave me time to admire the spacious rooms and corridors of the Institute (now housed in another old converted Portuguese-era structure). This place like the Alliance Francaise (French) and the Max Mueller Bhavan (German) in Bombay, offers Portuguese language lessons and cultural programs. Delfim is the Director, a very genial man who was one of the organizers of the conference. 

The session was one of the most disorganized I have ever seen at a conference. First of all, the Chairperson had no idea what she was doing—she did not even know how many people were presenting on her panel. Secondly, some chap who had not presented yesterday was pushed on to this panel—which would have been fine if they had placed him last on the panel and, time permitting, he gave his paper. But no! They told him to go third! This meant that Remy Dias was pushed to Number Five and Ashley to Number Six! How unfair was that!!?? Then Madame Chairperson called for a coffee break after four papers were read!!! Hullo? I came to listen to papers, not to sip coffee.  Thankfully, the audience protested and she returned to the panel (somewhat unwillingly). She was probably dying for a coffee because as Remy spoke, a tray was brought to her with coffee and biscuits (which completely disrupted the delivery of his paper—how infuriated I would have been if I were Remy). He seemed to take it in his stride (and his paper was fantastic too!) Finally, when it was Ashley’s turn to speak, she gave him ten minutes! That was grossly unfair as everyone else had 20! She did not allow questions (and there were many as Ashley’s talk was interesting and very provocative!) She was more interested in the talk she would be giving after the coffee break. I have never attended a conference where a Chairperson has been less respectful of the panelists. The whole thing was such a farce. Still, overall, it was a very good panel indeed with Frederick and Ashley holding their own in the midst of so many odds that were stacked against them.

Another Ramble in Old Panjim:

Lunch was then called and I joined other participants on the balcony as we partook of pullao, chicken curry, mixed vegetables, salad and watermelon for dessert. It was a chance for us to continue the conversation with old friends and new ones. 

Right after lunch, however, I decided to do some research on my laptop and try to find out about sightseeing possibilities for tomorrow. I discovered that there is a Hop On Hop Off bus (exactly like the one in other cities of the world) that offers a wonderfully economical way to see Goa as I saw it go past us on the main road below. Online I discovered its stops, its schedule, its cost, etc. I also discovered that the Institute was in the heart of Old Panjim which is filled with old structures and a road that would lead me to the grand Panjim Church. I took directions from Ashley and off I went. En route, I found Zantye’s, the old Goan-Portuguese shop that is known for its cashew nuts as I wanted to take some packets back home to Bombay. I told the salesman I would pop by on my way back to buy them as I did not want to carry the weight. 

Visiting Panjim Church:

A little later, I arrived at the glorious whitewashed structure of the towering Panjim Church that is constructed on a hill and has a zigzag pattern of balustraded stairways that lead to the top. It was just a little before 3.00 pm when the church would open again—I did not have to wait long. Inside, the main altar and the side altars are very similar to the style one finds at St.Andrew’s Church (Bandra, Bombay) as they both date from the same era (mid 1500s). The reredos (altar) was once gilded but the dazzle factor has faded. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling but they were not switched on. There was an obnoxious man guarding the place who barked out rudely to anyone who used their cameras and who told women to take off their hats! What is wrong with him!!!??? Can’t he tell the difference between men and women in a church—it is men who are supposed to take off their hats; women are supposed to keep their heads covered! Such ignorance can be born out of a little power! It was terrible! Anyway, I prayed as best I could until I heard a commotion at the door as the guard refused to allow a white man to enter because he was wearing shorts! The man shouted back at him and told him that he absolutely insisted on being allowed in! And the guard then capitulated and allowed him in! It was the worst spectacle! Really that guard ought to be replaced for someone less horrible. 

     I found that my new friend Chandrika had come into the church. She is giving her talk later in the evening and then leaving tomorrow morning for Edinburgh—so she was also trying to pack some sightseeing in before her departure. We visited for a while and took pictures of each other before we said goodbye and went our separate ways. 

Finding my Book on Goa in a bookshop in Goa!

Crossing the busy street in front of the church, I entered a book shop called Singbhal’s Book Store that is owned by the Times Group of Newspapers. And guess what I found there as I innocently browsed the shelves? I made my way into the travel section for selections on Goa—-and there was my book! It is the first time in my life that I have actually found my own book on the shelves of a commercial book shop! Needless to say, this was a huge high for me and I was absolutely determined to get some pictures—both of the book and of me standing besides it! But who could I ask to take the pictures? And then along came Amrita Shah, another writer and a new friend I made at the conference. She obligingly took them and congratulated me on my find! I was so delighted because the launch of the book was only a couple of hours away and already the book was on the shelves! Believe me, I was elated.

I then asked Amrita if she knew how I could get to the Central Library which holds valuable historical archives pertaining to Indo-Portuguese history and media.  She gave me directions and off I went.

Visiting Goa’s Central Library:

Later, after I had returned from my expedition to try to find Goa’s Central Library, I was told that it is the oldest library in India. Not that you would have known for it is now housed in a spanking new building that is deeply Modernist in aesthetic and which boasts a massive Reading Room, a soaring cathedral ceiling fully clad in glass which lets in tremendous natural light and a whole wall filled with magazines. Having climbing a hill and crossed a river over a bridge to get there, I was ready for a little sit down and I pulled out Femina magazine from the shelf and sat to browse through it when I decided to take my 20 minute power nap sitting right there on an incredibly comfortable one-seater sofa. And off I went to sleep!

Twenty minutes later, I was awake and refreshed and read to move on for Chandrika’s talk. Twenty minutes after that, having stopped at Zantye’s to get my cashew nuts, I was back at the conference venue. It had been a lovely long lazy ramble that took me to parts of Panjim I would never otherwise have seen.

The Evening Session:

I arrived at the Institute again just in time to have coffee—Nescafé with a selection of little cookies. Next, I took my place in the room where Chandrika was about to make her presentation on a comparison between the British and the Portuguese press in colonial India. It was brilliant! Filled with informative slides and material and delivered with such confidence and fluency, I was simply swept off my feet by her eloquence. I was not surprised that Chandrika had received her doctorate from Oxford! What a pleasure it was to listen to her. Sadly, she had made one comment which upset the Portuguese members of the audience and which ended up with her trying to defend herself against their annoyance. I think it left a bad taste in her mouth because although she told me that she was hoping to attend my book launch, right after her talk she disappeared completely. I felt so bad because I would have liked to have told her how much I enjoyed her talk and how much I learned from it. 

Finally! The Thrill of my Book Launch:

The hour had finally arrived for the launching of our book entitled Goa: A Post-Colonial Society Between Cultures which has been a very long time in the making. However, maybe all good things come to those who wait because it was grand to see so many copies of the book ready to be sold and to see them disappearing as every conference participant bought a copy. Frederick Noronha, the publisher, was really happy at the quick sales he was making.

The official launch got off well with me seated at the table with all of the contributors who were present at the conference seated besides about seven of us from different parts of the world—Brazil, Portugal, the US and India.  We also had Frederick, our publisher, present. Delfim introduced the book and introduced me and I then took over. I thanked him for providing us with the perfect forum in which to officially launch the book. I thanks Prof. David Jackson from Yale in absentia for having organized the conference in 2013 that had brought us all together at New Haven, Connecticut, for the conference at which the papers that were in the book were initially presented. We had Cielo Festino, Robert Newman, Ashley D’Melo, Felipe Vincent and Duarte Drummond Braga then talk about their essays very briefly. I told folks how thrilled I had been to find the book in the store just down the road.  Ten minutes later, the ribbon was cut on the book by Delfim and Remy, there was much clapping and the book was sent out on its way into the world with much cheering and clapping. Truly, there could not have been a better way to get the book launched and it was a very special evening for me who, as editor of the volume, had spent almost three years of my life working on it with a number of esteemed Portuguese Studies scholars from around the world to get it out.

A Fado Concert to End it All:

The evening ended with a Fado concert by a Goan gal called Nadia who is a student at the Institute and who enchanted us with her glorious voice and beautiful plaintive, melancholic, songs. To see the sparkling  River Mandovi behind her, forming a fitting backdrop for her singing and the guitar playing of two talented young Goan musicians who accompanied her brilliantly, was really such a thrill. It took me back to the fado concert I had attended at a restaurant in Lisbon, Portugal, a few years ago, when I had become introduced to the genre of music and had been fascinated by it. Nadia was superb and received many congratulations for her grand performance. 

Dinner of biryani rice with chicken curry and raita followed and it was all delicious. Under a glorious full moon, we stood on the balcony watching lights play on the waters of the Mandovi as we chatted with new friends. 

     Ashley was taking a rickshaw back home and he volunteered to drop me back to my hotel which I reached by 8.30 pm. This left me enough time to send out some posts on Twitter as well as get my backpack ready for my excursion tomorrow.  Sadly, it seems that tickets on the Hop On Hop Off bus for tomorrow are sold out and when I tried to get a ticket for Jan 24, the website would not accept my credit card. I then called Customer Service and they told me to contact my bank! Anyway, she also told me that I could go to the bus stop and pay the driver cash and that it was likely he would accept and take me on. Fingers Crossed!

I have a busy sightseeing day (hopefully) tomorrow after what had been a really exciting day for me. I went to bed still floating on Cloud Nine!

  Until tomorrow...