Saligao Serenade

by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas

In the 1940s and 50s one means of transportation that all were familiar with in the picturesque Goan village of Saligao was the boilanchi gaddi (ox-driven carriage). Only a few people could be accommodated in it. The man driving the carriage was known as the gaddiekar, and the ticket cost just four annas.

My friend Dominic Peter Francis Fernandes from Anjuna gives a nice description of the boilanchi gaddi: “The gaddi was made of wood. At its rear end, it had a half-door entrance with a metal step below, and two small windows, one on each side. It had a bench on either side with a sitting capacity of two persons each; but three would usually squeeze in. Read the rest of this entry »

by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas

The people of Goa have always had a fascination for names, and take the naming of their children very seriously. In days gone by it was not unusual for an infant to be given three, four or even more names – after patron saints, forefathers, famous figures from history, and miscellaneous tongue-twisters. In addition to all these given names, later on in life many were lovingly bestowed with one more – a nickname. Read the rest of this entry »

by Mel D’Souza

When I was a young lad growing up in Saligao, Goa,  back in the 1950s, we didn’t celebrate Christmas in the village the way it was celebrated by fellow villagers living in other parts of the world, where British and Western traditions prevailed. Theirs were luxuries we couldn’t afford.

We knew about “Father Christmas” (Santa Claus) and the toys he gave to little kids. But my mother, who didn’t think it necessary to spend money on toys, had told me much earlier that there really wasn’t a Santa Claus. So, our Christmases revolved around the nativity scene – the stable where Jesus was born, the star that guided the Three Kings to Bethlehem, and the Christmas carol, Silent Night. Read the rest of this entry »

by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas

Before the Gomes’ house at Mapuça was demolished, I was fortunate to visit it. A relative of the family whom I knew as a youngster once took me there on a visit. We were ushered into the dining hall, the seat of Goan hospitality, and served coffee and dos. In such families, close friends are greeted with a kiss on each cheek, Latin style. The stranger is greeted with a warm handclasp. A flow of Portuguese, the old court language, follows.

The compact Gomes’ house at Mapuça is the ancestral house of Monsenhor Francisco Xavier Gomes Catão, a noted and meticulous Goan church historian. It was constructed from stones taken from the fortresses of Tivim and Colvale. As the first Goan commandant of Mapuça, Captain Gomes (Monsignor Catão’s forefather) apparently had ready access to such building material. Read the rest of this entry »

During the Portuguese era, Goa was divided into concelhos (municipal districts).  Each municipality was divided into freguesias (parishes). The parishes were further divided into bairros (wards or vaddé).  In each village, authority was invested in the hands of the Regidor and Juiz Popular.  The church also asserted authority on its parishioners.

Ganvponn, or the village communities (communidade), are the village republics or the village panchayats. From immemorial times, long before the capture of Goa by the Portuguese, the villages of Goa were governed by the people themselves. Five respectable men, chosen by the people of the village, formed the governing body of the village community, and looked after all the affairs of the village such as religion, justice, education, health and finance. Read the rest of this entry »

[Editor's Note: This essay has been compiled by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas from old documents, magazine cuttings, jubilee souvenirs, and myriad other sources. If you recognize an unacknowledged source, do let us know and we will rectify the lapse.] 

 Engagements and marriages are also tied down by the traditions in Goa and surrounded by a cluster of quaint rites and observances. A week before any wedding there is bustle all around in preparation for the Buim Jevon or Bikareanchem Jevon (Beggars’ Lunch) and so called, because all the poor as well as the rich who are invited for it are made to sit on the floor on a mat (souém) and eat.  The menu consists of rice, jaggery, sweet (onn) a mixture of gram and plantain vegetable, puris made of rice or wheat flour and an aromatic curry of all types of spices washed down by a glass of feni (the local brew).  Dessert is bananas, mangoes or jack-fruits. Read the rest of this entry »

[Editor's Note: This essay has been compiled by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas from old documents, magazine cuttings, jubilee souvenirs, and myriad other sources. If you recognize an unacknowledged source, do let us know and we will rectify the lapse.] 

A tradition, superstition or a custom is at home in a place, like a plant. It draws vitality and life from a certain fertile environment and will not grow or flourish anywhere else. And in Goa, including Saligao, with her brooding beauty and peaceful atmosphere, has been the responsive soil and setting for some very picturesque folklore. Probably the hard and lonely but contented life some of the peasants lead, worked on their imaginations and endowed the little-known and the remote with grand importance. The village folk were in every respect sons of the soil, with pliant and impressionable minds. With their hopes sown in the fields; their fears fanned by every passing wind, superstitions and legends formed an essential part of  their everyday life. At least, this was the prevalent scene while I was a young lad growing up in Saligao in the early 1950s, before I decided to become a priest and joined the Seminary of Saligao towards the end of that decade, at the age of 17. Read the rest of this entry »

by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas 

As I wrote in an earlier essay, when I was a young lad growing up in Saligao, the children always waited eagerly for the onset of the monsoons. The pitter-patter of the first rains on the tiled roofs was cue enough for us kids to run under the gógó of our house for an impromptu bath-acid rain would be something that future generations would have to contend with! Friends from the neighbourhood such as Mohan, Naran and Surya joined me in singing their version of the rain song in Marathi: “Êrê êrê pausa, tula detô paisa, paisa zala khota, paus zala motta. Ega ega sari, mhajê moddkê bari, sar allê dhauvun, moddke gele vavun.” The magic of the first rains also inspired Oslando de Souza from Arrarim to compose his immortal song, “Poilo Paus“. Read the rest of this entry »

In the old days, church bells ruled everyday life in the village of Saligao as in other parts of Goa. They announced marriages, births and deaths. Labourers woke up to the Angelus bells at dawn to start their daily chores.  At the midday Angelus bell, they stopped their work to have a meal followed by the mandatory siesta.  When the Angelus bell rang, all stood and prayed.  The church bell rang again at sunset for the evening Angelus.  Well before this the domestic animals had been gathered and put into their stalls (gudd, gottó) for the night.  Children stopped play and came home running and the family gathered at the oratory.  Ponteos and candles were lit, and the Angelus was said.  After that, the mothers taught dotorn (catechism) to the children.  Kerosene lamps (dive) were substituted by chimney lamps, followed by Aladdin lamps and in some houses by petromax lamps. Read the rest of this entry »