Getting a glimpse of the "real" Goa
The recently-held Liberty and Light Festival of Goa gave me a chance to experience the unique culture and open society of the state
I have lost track of how many times I have visited Goa. I first went to the state in December 2001, unarmed with any knowledge of its history, heritage and culture. As an early-20-something tourist I appreciated the pristine beaches of southern Goa and enjoyed a day trip to Old Goa, which has interesting architecture. But that was it.
Subsequent visits that comprised of 3 or 4-day mini-vacations were always fun, but the only Goans who I interacted with were extortionate taxi drivers and some members of the staff of hotels and restaurants, who tended to treat me well, in part thanks to the remnants of my American accent. The state and its people remained alien to me all these years.
After reading some online articles in the Goan press that were critical of visitors and migrants to the state. I was under the impression that Goans tended to be mean nativists who attacked the very cash cows that brought in money to the state.
In January of this year, when I met eminent Goan writer Vivek Menezes in Panjim, I was surprised to hear from him about how open the society of the state was and that the people really appreciated high culture. This was certainly not the Goa I had known and gotten used to since 2001.
Four months after that conversation with the writer on a beach in Panjim I was invited for the inaugural edition of the Liberty and Light Festival of Goa, an occasion that aimed to showcase the literature, culture and society of an ever-evolving Goa to those who were unaware of the cultural wealth and depth of the state.
Becoming Goan
With the festival being a community initiative, I found myself being the guest of the people of Goa, the very people who I didn’t know well enough, despite several trips to the state. The event was held in the heart of Panjim, one of the most visually-pleasing capital cities in India.
From what I heard, it was only recently that ‘Instagrammers’ and their ilk started visiting the city, which is thankfully more or less off the radar of mass tourists. Those coming to take selfies, videos and reels come to the Goan capital for just a few hours. The mini-invasion of these young people, even for brief periods, has irritated many a resident of Fontainhas, the elegant colonial-style quarter of Panjim. This is, after all, a residential area. It’s hard to blame the locals. I wouldn’t want people constantly posing in my front of my home and making annoying videos all day long!
The organisers of the festival were kind enough to put me up at the Fundação Oriente, India, a cultural institution that looks to build cultural ties between Portugal and India. So, there I was, a resident of the quaint neighbourhood of Fontainhas. Given my facial features that are somewhat typical of those who live in the Konkan-Malabar coast of India, it was easy for me to blend in. Staying in the heart of Panjim did not make me a Goan, but it was a start.
The process to being one with the locals began with the inaugural event of the festival when the famous Chef Avinash Martins took us on a curated walk of Panjim’s fish, fruit and vegetable market.
Inside the Maquinez Palace, the venue for the events, I got my first glimpse of the openness of Goa that the writer Vivek Menezes had spoken of. I was in a social situation where I could meet members of the local middle class. It just seemed so natural to say hi to strangers and indulge in conversations. This is a joy that seemed to have been long forgotten in many parts of the world. Panjimites seemed to find it an honour to showcase their city and culture for visitors who showed interest in both. I was also made to feel welcome by none other than the great writer Damodar Mauzo, who recently was awarded the Jnanpith Award, the oldest and highest literary award in India.
Concerts and conversations
The best thing that the organisers of the festival did was to keep cultural programs in the evening, comprising of concerts and stand-up comedy among other things. The listing of a Fado concert in the evening program had piqued my interest. This music genre traces its origins to 19th century Portugal (some say it’s older). I felt some sort of magnetic attraction to this music, which transported me mentally both to the lanes of modern day Lisbon as well as Goa of yesteryear. The fact that the sweet language of Konkani has been added to this genre only made it more appealing for me.
On that special evening, a surprise was in store for us. Sonia Shirsat, a renowned Fado singer who was the main singer at the concert, invited us to line up on the staircase of the venue (the old GMC building) and sing a popular Portuguese-Konkani Fado song, while the musicians played on. We had rehearsed a few times with her during the concert, and then came the moment when we sang along with Sonia! As I stood on the staircase and looked at the beautiful chandelier, my enthusiasm was further enhanced and the singing came right from my soul. This was the first time in my life that I felt like a Goan, and not a visitor to the state. That sense of belonging, camaraderie and friendship is hard to describe. I know for a fact that I have a calling for Fado, and I will be in back in Panjim as Sonia’s student!
The best interactions I had in Goa were at the evening cultural programs. These talks with people from various age groups helped me understand the Goan people and psyche a bit better. Thanks to negative press reports, I had always believed that many Goans considered themselves Indians by accident and were more loyal to Portugal. I am sure there are a few such elements in the state, but the conversations I had with the locals in Panjim helped me understand that Goans were hardly any different from people in other places on the Konkan-Malabar coast. I could clearly empathise with them and their concerns about their unique culture being supplanted by something from northern India. Goans warmly welcome anyone who wants to integrate into their society, but detest those who want to turn their state into a coastal version of Delhi.
My time with the interesting people of Panjim made me want to explore and be a part of Goan society. I will never look at Goa the same way I did before I went for this festival. And so begins a new journey to this wonderful state!