Goodbye Goa! Hello again, Bombay!

Saturday, January 25, 2019
Goa-Bombay

Goodbye Goa! Hello again, Bombay! 

     Namaste from Bombay!
     To use a cliche, all good things must come to an end...and my stay in Goa did too.  I loved staying at The Panjim Inn in the heart of the old Panjim Village that is known as Fortinhas, visiting with my old friends, meeting new academics and interacting with them at the conference, walking again in the footsteps of the colonial Portuguese at Velha Goa (Old Goa) and, today, discovering a darling place, thanks to a new travel friend Lawrence Powell who told me about it.
     But first, I blogged, watched some TV (as I actually have access to cable here, which I do not have at home) to listen to desperate US Federal workers lament the closure of the US government that still continues into its 34th day! Then, I decided to get on with re-packing my case for my departure as check-out time was 10.00 am and I needed to shower and eat my breakfast before I could get on with my day.  My flight was departing from Dabolim airport at 2.45 pm and since the journey there was long, I needed to get all my ducks in a row and get on with it.
     Brekkie this morning was idlis with sambar and coconut chutney in the lovely dining room of The Panjim Inn that I have grown to love. I joined Lawrence at his table and could not believe that he (an IT specialist) asked my help in finding out how to highlight copy on his new little portable pc--I was actually able to tell him what to do! Some fresh fruit (watermelon and pineapple) finished up my day with a bit of a banana milkshake and some coffee. I had phoned Ashley and had made plans to meet him at the end of the road in about a half hour for our next joint expedition.

Off to Sunpuranta to see an F.N. Souza Exhibition:
     Lawrence was the first person to tell me about Sunapuranta, a darling old Portuguese homestead up on a hill just behind our hotel. He had visited an exhibition on the art work of Francis Newton Souza (who is known as F.N. Souza) in this venue and had recommended it to me. Following his suggestion, both Huma and Ashley had told me that they had seen it and that the exhibition and the venue were worth visiting. I was keen to see it and this morning, just before I began my farewell journey to the airport seemed like a good time.
     Accordingly, I met Ashley at the appointed spot and we set off to climb a hill and a series of stairs that reminded me very much of Mount Mary Steps in Bandra--they are shallow but very wide stairs that lead up a hill that offers lovely views of the Mandovi River. At its base is the Portuguese Consulate and there is always a line of people there waiting to submit forms to obtain Portuguese passports which they have then used as an entry into the EU nations. Ashley informed me that if your parents or grandparents were born in Goa, Daman or Diu (former Portuguese territories in India), you are eligible. Apparently, thousands of Goans and Gujaratis have left India with this document to resettle in Europe (apparently many having produced forged documents too!) Of course, now with Brexit that avenue for relocation will soon close!
      Sunaparanta lies at the very top of the hill. It is a sprawling gracious bungalow, now fully refurbished in sparking whitewash with turquoise blue highlights, set in a gorgeous garden brimming over with frangipani (champa, plumeria) trees and awash with the riotous colors of bougainvillea. We climbed the curving balustraded stairs leading to the wraparound verandahs and found posters advertising the exhibition entitled 'Souza in the 40s' curated by Connor Macklin.
     Regular readers of this blog will remember that about two years ago, I had made friends, while living in London, with a lovely Goan-British lady named Marcia Ribeiro, who is the daughter of Souza's half-brother Lancelot Ribeiro (they had the same mother but different fathers because when their mother lost her first husband--Souza's father--she married Ribeiro, Lancelot's father). Marcia had invited me to a retrospective on the work of her father, Lancelot Ribeiro, a far lesser known artist than the celebrated Souza, her uncle. I had enjoyed getting acquainted with Ribeiro's work at Burgh House in Hampstead and had then attended a talk at the British Library on the work of Ribeiro, Souza and Sadanand Bakhe, a Goan artist who had also settled in London, given by the agent who had represented them in London for a few years through a mobile gallery! I do not remember the agent's name. Anyway, I have known of Souza's work for many years (he was still alive and living in New York in 1989 when I had first arrived in the city and I have seen many exhibitions of his work there).

Souza at the Sunaparanta:
     This exhibition represents Souza's early work--when he was just making the trajectory from Realism to Abstract Expressionism. The realistic vein of his canvases featuring scenes from Goa are rich in vivid color as seen in Gallery One. As one moves through the galleries, the work gets far more abstract.  It is filled with line drawings, sketches, studies for his later (larger) works. There are a number of nudes, anatomical drawings, the visualizations of more solid compositions. By 1949, Souza became a member of the most influential artistic movement in India--the Progressive Artists Group that was wonderfully multi-cultural and multi-religious and numbered among its members all of the leading lights of the contemporary Indian arts scene--Tyeb Mehta, Raza, Ara, Hussain, Akbar Padamsee, Gaitonde and, of course, Souza. As early at the 1940s, even before Independent India's artists would find their aesthetic voice, Souza was being hailed as an influential figure. Indeed the influence of Picasso and Braque was very clearly obvious to me in his line drawings and so many of his self-portraits (imitative of portrayals of Christ) seemed directly derived from Cubism. Yes, there was the occasional landscape with its swaying coconut palms and blood-red sunsets but it was the abstractions that are most representative of the later artist he shaped up to be. I loved every bit of the exhibition and was very excited to have caught the event just before my departure from Goa.  
       Ashley, who accompanied me, told me that so many of his colleagues at the Times of India in Bombay, who were drinking pals of Souza, were gifted drawings by him to pay for the money he owed them when he was down and out in Bombay. Not realizing how lucrative his work would become as the decades passed, they re-gifted the drawings to other people--only to regret their generosity now at a time when Souza's works are being auctioned for small ransoms by international dealers!
     We could not leave the gallery without nipping into the utterly lovely courtyard cafe called Cafe Bodega which is literally set up in the central open courtyard of the house--which offered me another architectural insight into the manner in which these Goan bungalows were constructed and conceived. Sunlight flooded the space as the aroma of coffee wafted around the tables. Ashley and I found an empty spot and ordered Americanos--I would pay dearly for my sins in the night when caffeine kept me awake until 2.00 am! Still, it was lovely to end my six-day stay in Goa in such a relaxed manner, shooting the breeze with an old friend in such a delightful space.

Return Journey to Bombay:
     Sadly, we could not linger too long as I had to return to my hotel to pick up my case and get going. I was determined to use public transport and avoid being ripped off Rs. 1000 by a taxi drier to get to the airport. I had discovered from the hotel lobby that there were regular buses to the airport and I could easily get one of those from the main bus stand. So, off I went. Ashley found me a rickshaw that took me to the bus stand (for Rs. 80!!! I would have paid no more than Rs. 25 for the same five minute journey in Bombay!).
     I found the bus stop to get the Vasco Shuttle bus, as it is known and for Rs. 37 (the total cost of my ticket), I would go as far as a small village call Chinchole from where I would be required to connect to another bus that would get me to Dabolim airport. The journey took me about 45 minutes as there was quite a bit of traffic held up by construction on the highway on the banks of the Zuari River close to the airport. At Chichole, I got off and found another bus pulling right up to the bus stop. I jumped into it and for Rs. 10, I was taken to the airport an dropped right opposite it! So, for Rs. 80 plus Rs. 37 plus Rs. 10--Rs 118, I got to the airport instead of paying Rs. 1,000 in the same time it would have taken me by cab--and I would have missed the adventure of traveling with the local people and getting a real feel of their lifestyles!
     At the airport, I checked in really quickly and easily and make my way upstairs to the gate. At a snack bar, I picked up two Punjabi samosas and a can of Diet Coke which would serve as my lunch. The flight was right on schedule and I touched down in Bombay at exactly 4.00 pm after being treated to an incredible sighting of the grand step of Colva Beach just past the airport in Goa. The plane flew really low so I had the most stunning views of the two rivers--the Zuari and the Mandovi-- and all of the northern beaches that I had not visited on this trip. At the airport in Bombay, I hopped into a rickshaw with the confidence of an old hand at the travel game and I was at my building and in my flat about half an hour later.

Visiting with Dad and Russel:
     I was feeling energetic enough to start unpacking right away and putting away items for laundry. I then had a long chat with Ashley and eventually left for Dad's place to visit with him and Russel. I gave them the goodies that Dad's fiend Joaquim had sent for Russel (bebinca) and the packet of cashew nuts that I bought for them. Dad and I then left for Mass and on my return to their place, I had dinner with them--a whole bunch of items in Dad's house from white pumpkin to ground chicken with peas to cutlets to dal! For dessert, I had an orange.
 
Winding Down for the Night--Not!
     Dad and his housekeeper had been kind enough launder my bed and bath linen in my absence and with two bags full, I returned home to spend the next half an hour making my gigantic bed (which is always a bit of a production), changing my bath linen and putting things away.
     I then decided to have an early night--yeah right! That morning's coffee at Cafe Bodega did a number on my system and my caffeine intolerance kicked in, big time. I was wide awake until 2.00 am when I actually switched the TV on and got myself a post-midnight snack of pistachios--anything to pass time and make me feel sleepy enough to actually get some shut eye!
    Goa had been great fun and I was delighted that I had the unexpected trip, thanks to a fantastic conference and a very memorable launching of my book. I returned home to find an invitation to another conference from Ryan at the United States-India Education Foundation who wants to know if I would be agreeable to go to Nagpur to give a presentation! Well, if I can find the time to put a paper together--why not????
   Until tomorrow...