Today, most people associate Portugal’s adventures in India only with Goa. Given the spectacular ‘success’ of the Raj, Portugal’s role and history in India has tended to be both diminished and overlooked. Within fifty years of Vasco da Gama’s arrival, however, Portuguese conquests were far more extensive than Goa. They controlled 60 miles of the coast around Goa and up to 30 miles inland. Northwards from Bombay through to Damao and Diu and to parts of Gujarat was Portuguese. Southwards from Goa, they held a long loosely-linked chain of seaport fortresses and trading posts such as Oner, Barcelor, Mangalore, Cochin and Quilon. Pepper, ginger and cinnamon were their prizes. On the eastern coast, military posts were established at San Thome for example, and Portuguese control even extended to Hooghly in West Bengal. Envoys and resident ambassadors were exchanged with other major states on the continent and peace treaties agreed with other powers in the region, such as the Mughal and Vijayanagar kingdoms. The Portuguese in India were more than just the Portuguese in Goa, as it is not generally recognised, and were the last foreign power to leave in the 1960s.
In the fifteenth century Portugal was one of two invading forces in India, both of which had far-reaching consequences for the continent. The other conquerors were the Mughals who, as pointed out earlier, had a recognised lasting influence on subsequent political, administrative and cultural developments in the continent. The Portuguese essentially were a sea power and used this military and commercial advantage to open new trade routes. It was the Portuguese that effectively created the beginnings of the global system of trade and, often, exploitation. By way of Lisbon, India was linked to the Portuguese colony of Brazil and with their settlements in West Africa. The Portuguese not only linked India with Europe, Africa and the Americas, they also tied India more closely to other Asian markets.
Significant as these historical economic developments were, it was in the cultural sphere that Portugal’s influence is clearest today. Like the British later, there was never that large a number of Portuguese settlers, but unlike the British, Portugal encouraged marriage with the local inhabitants and saw the areas where they lived as ‘home’ – they were not a transient, temporary presence distancing themselves socially and culturally from the locals. It was a presence nevertheless backed by the use of military violence where required. Underpinning this domination was of course the Catholic Church with its narrow, oppressive strictures and practices, especially after the arrival of the Inquisition in Goa. The subsequent atrocities on the local population in the name of the Inquisition and the destruction in 1540, for example, of all Hindu temples significantly increased indigenous resentment towards the Portuguese. The growth of the Mughals especially under Akbar further pressured Portuguese influence on the continent. Low wages and rampant corruption characterised the search for fortunes. Later, Brazil rather than India became the choice of plunder for the Portuguese. The rise and competition from other European imperial powers finally sealed the Portuguese decline on the continent.
In Portuguese Goa, however, an affluent middle class had emerged long before elsewhere in India. Rural villages often with generous courtyards were created and large villas with extensive verandas, tiled roofs held up by wooden rafters and large windows were built. Many of them remain today, a little rundown and dwarfed by trees that have grown wild and huge. The distinctive Goan-Portuguese style of architecture as it is known is celebrated at the Museum of Houses of Goa, close to Panjim. The best remaining example of this architecture is said to be the Menezes Braganza House, a private home with the family tracing its roots back to the sixteenth century. In 2014 we finally managed to find the house and had a guided tour around it. Located in the Chandor village just south of Margao in southern Goa, this 350-year-old house is a magnificent collection of chandeliers, porcelain, paintings, crystal, period furniture and other varied antiques. We walked through the ballroom, gazed at the baroque chapel, admired the Italian marble floors and browsed the leather-bound volumes arranged in the rosewood bookcases in the library. Three hundred and fifty-year-old Ming vases stand quietly in the corner of one room, unguarded and without alarms. The land upon which the house was built was apparently given to the family by the then king of Portugal in the 17th century. A family member from the same time represented Goa in the Portuguese government and was a vice-consul general in Spain. Today the house which has been split into two halves is still inhabited by descendants of the families. After the Portuguese left India in the 1960s, some of the ‘grand’ families were allowed to keep their houses although most had their extensive lands confiscated. The Braganza family had made their wealth from farming the coconut and rice on their large estates. In 1962 when the family surrendered these lands, they lost the primary source of income. One particular family member Luis de Menezes Braganza was a campaigner for Goa freedom and was one of the few settlers to oppose Portuguese rule. With the escalating political violence around anti-Portuguese issues, he was forced to flee the house and Chandor in the 1950s.
And then there is the Catholic Church – another reminder when in Goa that this is a different place with a distinctive culture from the rest of India. Along the coastal region these vast and whitewashed church landmarks appear at regular intervals. On most days and not only on Sundays, they are busy with people. And yet, despite the Portuguese Inquisition lasting some 250 years through to 1812, Hindus have always constituted the majority population of Goa and today account for about 65% of Goans. In contrast Muslims have always been a small minority. The Catholicism of Goa, however, seems to have always been a hybrid religion – recognising caste differences and incorporating a mystical, goddess-centred Christianity with traces reaching back to pre-colonial times.
For Goans today, the ‘Portugal’ link remains an important but largely unspoken issue. In December 2010 for example, there began a year-long celebration in Goa to mark the fifty years since the end of Portuguese rule. Reading reports from local and national Indian newspapers, it was clear that some of the events “brought to the surface an ever present, palpable and deep Goan divide” as one of the papers put it. “There are those here who see the Portuguese as benevolent fairy god-uncles who infinitely enriched and transformed Goa, who will always be joined with them in the deep longing for a shared, poignant past,” reported one commentator. On the other hand, “There are as many, perhaps more, who see the Portuguese simply and starkly as imperial conquerors – divisive, coercive, plundering and cruel,” he continued.
Those beaches
For the majority of visitors to Goa, however, it is not the tranquillity and order of the rural villages or the extensive, well-maintained evidence of a previously fierce Catholicism or the fading charms of once powerful Luso-Indian families and their mansions that is the attraction of the state. Instead it is the beaches. For most people and especially tourists, Goa is its beaches. Goa throughout the world is synonymous with palm tree lined beaches of soft white sand, the warm waters of the Arabian Sea and, for some, hedonistic extravaganzas. The weather is almost a given – an unremitting average of around 30 degrees and undisturbed blue skies. A gentle breeze is often available on the beaches but not elsewhere. The best weather is said to be in the last months of the year; March and April getting hotter with the approaching monsoon period raising the humidity levels. Early mornings through to about 10 in the morning together with late afternoons are the activity periods, for walking, visiting, shopping or perhaps birdwatching. Nights are warm with no need for bed covers – a fan in the room on a slow speed is usually sufficient. The ‘season’ for overseas tourists usually begins in October and closes down in March and April. It is not only the tourists that have their routines and patterns. Many of the workers are from out of state, from neighbouring Karnataka or further afield such as Nepal. Jobs and responsibilities have to be attended to back home either in the fields or with family duties. Kiosks and eating places are dismantled until returned to in September or October.
And those beaches that dominate the marketing litera
ture are there – they are real. They are not some fancy fiction that often characterises our holiday brochures. And you can choose which sort of beach you want – from the hectic, built-up party chaos of a Palolem experience in south Goa, or Calangute and Baga in the north through to the almost lonely beaches of Mandrem, Keri or Utorda. Somewhere in the state’s 125 kilometres of coastline you can find what you want.
Beaches, however, are often a proxy for a number of other things – a wider pattern of experiences. There is for example the plentiful accommodation at any desired budget range. Small family-run ‘home-stays’ are popular amongst long-stayers while five-star corporate hotels are beginning to congregate in particular areas. Then there is the cuisine particular to Goa and, again, shaped by the Portuguese but with distinct Hindu influences. It’s a bit like a southern Mediterranean diet with its staple ingredients of chicken, spiced sausages and meats but mixed up with spicy flavours and locally available vegetables. Pork vindaloo, chicken xacuti (roasted grated coconut with chunks of meat in a thick gravy) and cafreal might sound a little familiar to some British tourists but the flavours and spices are not. Beans and cashews are common as of course is the chilli pepper, introduced all those centuries ago by the Portuguese. Fish curries today seem to be less common or popular than in the past, replaced instead by a variety of plainer, less tasty, safer ‘seafood dishes’, although rice dishes remain popular as do prawn curries. Common to all the eating places today is that hybrid categorisation of dishes and menus into ‘Indian’, ‘Goan’, ‘Chinese’ and ‘International’. It’s a shame but I assume that it’s ‘what the market wants’. And then there is the wonderful bebinca, worth a trip to Goa if for nothing else. Served at every restaurant, this sixteen-layer cake of flour, ghee, egg yolk, coconut milk, sugar and almond slivers is usually served warm with ice cream on the side. It is a staple for all ceremonies and celebrations. Each layer can only be added to when the lower layer has cooked and cooled. It’s a rich dish as its ingredients suggest, so portions are small, but it provides a wonderful sweet contrast to a spicy main dish. And given that we are now concentrating on Goan particularities, mention should be made of completing the meal with a glug of Feni, a spirit produced only in Goa. Regulated as a ‘country liquor’, the coconut feni or cashew feni can’t be produced outside of Goa and is often still distilled in the traditional earthen pot. Traditional coconut feni is distilled from fermented toddy collected from the coconut palm by a toddy tapper called a ‘rendier’ and its collection is a craft to be found throughout India and Southeast Asia. A skilled task that has been continued over the centuries, the toddy is collected every alternate day in the early morning and late evenings in late February through to mid-May for the cashew variety and throughout the year for the coconut feni. Given the ubiquitous nature of the coconut palm throughout Goa, the toddy collector is not an uncommon sight. The business seems to remain as a local, unorganised industry characterised by numerous small producers who supply distillers or bars through long-standing relationships.
The allure of the ‘beach-life’ for most, perhaps all, visitors to Goa is, however, more than the feni – it is almost uniquely, in India, the friendly and widespread alcohol availability. For the Western visitors this largely means cold lager beers, and for many of the Indian tourists means rum and whiskey. As an increasing number of states in India restrict or ban alcohol sales, Goa’s attractions increase. Alcohol is available elsewhere in India but at a considerable cost of effort, camouflage (in Kerala, it is served in teapots), travel and finance. In Goa it is plentiful and cheap. And it goes down well with the sun and the beaches.
As mentioned earlier, the Colva beach or the beach running along the Salcete coastal region in south Goa is the beach I know best. This 24-kilometre stretch of white sands is almost completely palm fringed and includes villages such as Cansaulim and Betalbatim in the north through to Colva and Benaulim in the middle, and then down to Varca and Mobor at the mouth of the Sal River, in the south. A favourite walk that I don’t like to miss on my visits is from Mobor up to Benaulim – about 8–9 kilometres. As usual the heat can be a bit of a problem. I reckon that I’m quite a good walker, but I’ve had to give up on previous walks trying to reach Cansaulim on the northern stretch of the beach due to feeling faint with the heat in the midday sun.
I usually manage, however, the Mobor to Benaulim walk provided I make an early morning start. I catch a bus from Benaulim down to Mobor – a lovely ride provided you can get a seat. It gets quieter and less busy on the bus once past Varca and the further south you go. At Mobor you leave the bus, walk alongside the big posh Leela Resort and on to the beach, turn right and keep going for about 3–4 hours.
It’s a lovely walk. When I last did it in March 2016, the tide was out but was on its way back. The beach is wide, about 70 metres I would guess with two levels defined by the high tide mark. On the bottom level is the still-damp sand which is ideal for walking. Higher up is the soft, dry, strength-sapping stuff which makes the going hard. At the edge of the beach is the thick greenery – the inevitable palm trees but also rows of trees that reminded me and look like but are not yew trees. Sometime in the past, the edge of the whole beach has been planted with foliage to prevent erosion. Now mature and up an embankment, these trees provide a lovely line and definition to the entire beach. Occasionally through my ‘yew’ trees you can see small plantations of bananas and wild mango trees. It’s all very dense, green and natural. In this stretch of the coast and almost up to Varca, there is little to no sign of human development. There are three or four big, foreign ‘corporate’ hotels on the walk but they are set away from the beach and are not the usual eyesore. Instead it’s very tranquil with, at the beginning anyway, few other swimmers or walkers around. The sea is usually calm and always available when it gets too hot. The incoming tide brings on to the shore a line of debris – driftwood, small dark coconut fruit, some plastic bottles, a flip-flop sandal here and there, and plastic leftovers from people’s picnics. Not too bad. At each of the villages along the walk are the beach shacks – maybe a half-dozen temporary structures that each attract their regular customers for their daily fix of drink, board games, food, friendships and sea. In the early morning, the shacks are empty and only begin to show life at around 10–11 in the morning. Apart from the weekends, most of the visitors are Westerners. Even with some of the bigger villages such as Cavelossim there is no sign of permanent buildings from the beach. They are set away from the beach and hidden by the greenery.
Up early though are the municipal (I assume) workers making their way down the beach clearing up the rubbish and plastics. They are decked out smartly in green or orange fluorescent jackets. It’s a low-tech operation, involving the pulling of a plastic shallow bowl along on a stretch of rope. Once filled, the bowl is periodically thrown into the bordering beach foliage. Nearer to Varca – the big village along this stretch of the coast – are big, green rubbish bins standing in the middle of the beach at 300 or so metre intervals. Given the furore over rubbish and plastics throughout Goa, this is a very welcome new initiative even though there was little evidence of them being regularly used. ‘Privatised’ individual collectors with their hessian sacks for the plastic bottles were also busy walking the beach. Together with the green bins more people become visible – groups of young schoolchildren standing around, a game of cricket or football here and there, and the beach loungers under the umbrellas beginning to fill up. Once past these spots, things quieten down again with only occasional walkers greeting each other. A cold drink here and there at a shack provides the opportunity for a restful stop and an opportunity to catch up with the gossip on tourist business with the workers or owners – who’s here this year, who’s missing, what’s business like, what fish is available and so on.
After 3–4 hours you are back on home beach hot and sweaty, at ‘your’ shack but ready for a light lunch snack. As I said earlier, a lovely walk – nothing too ambitious but something accomplished and enjoyed.<
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Green Goa
It is the beaches that are synonymous from around the world with Goa. Less appreciated are the forests and trees of the state. A study of the map showing the distribution of forests in the state indicates how widespread and important are the rich flora and fauna. There are six Wildlife Sanctuaries and one National Park. Moist, mixed deciduous forests, subtropical hill forests through to evergreen forests provide the storehouse for the rivers and natural resources within the state. This biodiversity is common to the Western Ghats running through western India and through Goa. As a percentage of total area in Goa, forest and tree cover is some 66% in south Goa, which is significant. Forget the beaches; trees rule OK.
Walking or travelling around the busy coastal villages or largely tourist-deserted hinterland, you come across one of the wonders of India (for me, anyway) – the huge Banyan trees. Next to the Baobab tree of sub-Saharan Africa, the Banyan tree must be one of the world’s most iconic trees and, unsurprisingly, is the national tree of India. I have many photographs on my camera of these great monsters often from under their vast canopies, looking upwards. The nearer to settlements the more likely is the damage to the tree. Unfortunately, there are plenty of examples of trees with huge branches which have been lopped off because they block the light or are in the way of electricity lines.
Banyan Tree Adventures Page 12