GOA'S SIXTIES REMEMBERED

Goa of the Sixties

Part 1

It was a way of life, and a good and simple way of life back then. I would modestly say we were not rich, but I felt we were a little better than the poorest around us. In spite of hardships, I admired my Dad and Mom’s acumen in putting food on the table for us, and sometimes it made me wonder what life would be for me when I grew to be their age. But honestly little did I care about it at all then as I thought probably all things would automatically fall in place in due course.

While life mostly revolved and centered around going to school, there was always time on our hands for other activities like for instance organizing our annual inter-village football tournament and our annual village picnic to the springs. We had a formed a recreation club in our village by kind courtesy of a benefactor who always encouraged us and had let us use their house in the evenings and on holidays. This couple lived in a huge house with a very large “sala”. (a Portuguese word for “hall”). This place gave us the opportunity to pass our time during the long monsoon evenings. They also had a very large courtyard where we would play badminton on other days. The monthly subscription for members was four annas. We played carom, draughts and other board games. This was also a place where we would exchange books that we took turns in reading. Arthur C. Clarke’s, 2001:A Space Odyssey was quite a popular novel.

Part 2 
The beginning of the sixties saw the liberation on the chilly morning of 19 December 1961. Emissora de Goa, Pangim - the old radio station fell silent for a while and then came to be known as All India Radio, Panji. The take-over was quite an excitement with the fighter jets flying overhead. By the time we ran out of the house to see them in the sky, they were gone and left only the noise behind! We were barely into our teens and ran toward the main road to greet the Jawans on their way to the Capital, Panjim, from Mapuça.

The nights of Yuletide that year were dark, sombre and frightening for a youngster. It was long before mid-night that the lamps and candles burnt themselves out in the lanterns and “stars” in front of the houses in my village during the Yuletide of that year. Very silent nights prevailed except for the intermittent hooting of the owl – heard but never seen, the dogs barking in the neighbourhood and the occasional howling of wolves in the wee hours of the morning. With the people expecting and praying for peace to triumph all was calm, all was dark.

A few days after the liberation a grand display of the Indian military hardware, machine guns, canons and tanks was held for the public at Mapuça Praça and people flocked to see it there. Then it was the time when Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru visited Goa and laid the foundation stone of the Mandovi Bridge. For years we ferried across the river from Betim to Panaji and vice-versa while we patiently watched the bridge pylons gradually rising above the horizon. The first span barely taking shape in the distance east of the ferry crossing was quite exciting, while towards the west the passenger ship heralded its arrival with its loud booming siren while negotiating through the waters and the dodging the sand bars at Reis Magos. Longing to see the completion of this vital connection was the prime hope and expectation of the people, while the aging ferries withstood the test of time. The Zuari bridge must have still been on the drawing board at the time. Its construction began sometime later and we spent the rest of yet another decade helplessly looking up to the pylons, while being ferried across at a snail’s pace, one of them tilting precariously and balanced with counter-weight to straighten it out. We also saw the reconstruction of the various great old bridges destroyed by the retreating Portuguese. Lt.Gen. Candeth was appointed as the first Governor of Goa and village panchayats sprang up all over this Union Territory. Banco Naçional Ultramarino became Reserve Bank of India. And I became an Indian citizen!

Part 3

The sixties brought in two memorable Konkani movies, Amchem Noxib and Nirmon. These movies were Black & White but the songs from those two movies have been immortalized and sung even to this day. Goa’s famed orchestra Johnson and His Jolly Boys reigned supreme at weddings, feasts and dances. The mid-sixties saw the popularity of rock music groups like the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. Goa became notoriously known for the influx of the hippies from all over the world.

On the educational front the mid-sixties also saw two new colleges namely, Dempe in Panjim and St. Xavier in Bastora. The opening up of Examination Centres in cities came as a great convenience. During the Portuguese regime students had to travel to Karwar and Pune to appear for S.S.C. Examinations.

The dawn of the early sixties also saw two new Indian cars on the roads – the Fiat and the Ambassador, and of course Tata Trucks and Leyland S.T. Buses. The Austin, Ford, Volkswagen, Chevloret, Morris, the Caminhao and the Bedford truck would slowly diminish in their popularity by the end of the decade. Though some of the roads were as narrow as they are now, vehicles and motorcycles were far less in number and very few accidents. The population was just over 600,000.

Part 4

Tragic moments for us all was the shocking assassination of President John F. Kennedy and passing away of the First Indian Prime Minister Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru. Great and fascinating events were space exploration and Neil Armstrong setting foot on the moon by the end of the decade.

My best friends and colleagues lived barely a wave, a gentle shout or a stone’s throw away. Others friends were my classmates from surrounding villages. We assembled in the centre of the village, opposite the village chapel at 7.30 am before we proceeded to walk to school together led by the oldest or the tallest. I trudged far behind in the line. During the monsoon season the incessant rains flooded our usual winding paths through the fields. It was then sheer joy and fun to take the long way home.

We rushed home after school, had tea, expecting some sweet dish that grandma would make and then played football in the improvised grounds on the outskirts of our little village. These were actually rice fields of one of our neighbours. We waited patiently till the water and earth dried after the monsoon harvest. We played till the village chapel bell rang for Angelus when everybody was expected to be home for prayers.

Part 5

We had two cages on both sides of our “balcão”, hanging on the beam across the two pillars that held the roof of the entrance. There was a myna in one cage and a parrot in another. They could speak three languages, and had a remarkable memory and extensive vocabulary that included certain Konkani words for which I would have definitely been punished if I ever dared to utter or repeat them. These birds entertained the people passing by who paused at our house for a while. The cat slept most of the day but justified its laziness by catching the erring naughty mice in the night. The dog was well behaved, got its regular feed and barked most of the time.

Sunday was a typical day with attendance at the very early first morning Mass so that we could be on time to hear “Binaca Hit Parade” at 8 am. at our neighbour’s place who had a powerful Grundig valve radio that used huge external line antennae above their house. The programme we used to listen to was broadcast on shortwave, 31 metre band, by the Commercial Service of Radio Ceylon, now Sri Lanka. I remember meeting my Mother going to church for the second mass and passing us on the way as we returned home from the first Mass in order to listen to the songs on the radio. Jim Reeves, Cliff Richard and Elvis Presley reigned supreme with their hits. Seven or eight of us would be listening with paper and pencils in our hands and voila! - in one sitting we would have the lyrics of the song that we liked. Hank Locklin’s ‘Send me the pillow that you dream on’, Jim Reeves' 'He'll Have to Go' and Paul Anka’s ‘Diana’ were popular and often-requested songs. Songs by Ricky Nelson, Nat King Cole, Peter & Gordon, Everly Brothers, Doris Day, Bobby Darin, Brian Hyland, and Bobby Vinton would definitely be remembered by kids of those days till the present day. Pat Boone's 'Speedy Gonsales' was quite a hit then with ‘the plaintive cry of the young Mexican girl’ piercing through the stillness of the evening air on the evening's daily request programme.

Film epics like Guns of Navarone, Lawrence of Arabia, Dr. No, My Fair Lady, The Singing Nun, Dr. Zhivago and actors like Gregory Peck, Anthony Quinn, David Niven, Peter O'Toole, Alec Guinness, Charlton Heston, Sean Connery, Omar Sharif, actresses Audrey Hepburn, Sofia Loren, Debbie Reynolds and Elizabeth Taylor were much-talked about.

Part 6

In the months of April and May, all of us in the villages would go together to Calangute beach. Famous music groups from all over Goa would converge and compete for the title of best band. These were also the months when we would have the Goans from Bombay on a holiday in Goa and it was a very happy time indeed. Before they returned to Bombay, they would have the sung litany. We would get together practically every night playing in our balcão. We sang all the songs of the day, not missing on the mandos, along with the accompaniment on the guitar and the harmonica. Those were the days when the passenger ships like the 'Konkan Sevak' and 'Sabarmati' sailed the coastal areas especially from Bombay to Goa with stops at Vengurla and Devgarh. The sea voyage took 24 hours and impromptu singing sessions were the norm.

The feast of St. John was celebrated with all the young boys jumping into the wells, on the eve of which bonfires were lit and the fire was put out by beating it using the flat bases of the stems of the palm leaves while singing a certain chorus. And so were the village feasts. Ganesh, Diwali, and Shigmo festivals were celebrated with equal fervour too, brotherly atmosphere between the Christians and Hindus having prevailed at all times.

During the three days of “Carnaval” all the boys from the village got together. We dressed up in different costumes and went from house to house singing songs. As was expected, whatever we collected as gratis for our efforts went towards purchasing a new football for the use of all.

Part 7

Being a teenager of the sixties I grew up with very practical and extremely loving parents.
Dad getting ready to go to Mapuça Friday bazaar - I still try to imagine seeing him now - in his favourite khaki trousers, shirt and a hat. And Mom at home attending to different chores, sometimes broom in one hand, dish-towel in the other, while Doris Day’s Que Sera Sera of the 1950's was still going strong into the early sixties on the afternoon’s radio program “Your Favourites and mine” broadcast by All India Radio, Panjim. Patti Page sang the Tennessee Waltz while my aunt sang along in high seconds!
For my mother in the afternoon it was the smaller house chores she would pay attention to like a hem in a dress, a quilt she would stitch on 'installment basis'! Or the ongoing process of a sweater she would knit, a lost button on my school uniform or the missing lace she would replace, or lengthening of my shorts as I grew up almost by the week. Any garment purchased readymade, or stitched by the local tailor, had to be at least one size larger! They have apt 2 words in Konkani for that: “Vaddtea angar”. (Meaning in English : For the growing body!) Very true.
My mother, who waited up for me while I studied for school exams late into the night, was too afraid to find me asleep on my book before the oil lamp burnt itself out. We had a name for her, our very own Florence Nightingale - she cared about each and every thing everyone did. She tended lovingly to our neighbour’s sick child, and often accompanied neighbours who were ill to see a doctor. And on a cold night took a cup of hot soup to the elderly man who lived alone nearby.

Part 8
My father had promised me a bicycle when I passed fifth standard. He finally gave it to me two years later! “The roads are far too narrow and dangerous, son; the cars and trucks are speeding” he said, while I waited for my own bicycle for some time. He had his own, but it was a bit too big for me. But Dad was nice. He let me learn to ride on his, though never letting me or the bicycle out of his sight! For him, it was always the time for fixing things, not only his own bike, but also the “foreign Raleigh” that one of our neighbours had. I don’t ever remember seeing him idle. He always had to find something to keep him busy with - fixing the kitchen stool, a curtain rod, the rake handle, the replacement of the broken tile on the rooftop, repairing the pedal on my bicycle or the gate of the front garden. He believed in getting our ancient cupboard doors fixed himself rather than buying a new one! It was amazing that there wasn’t anything that he could not fix. We had a name for our father too – “the handyman of the house (and the whole village)”. He always would lend a helping hand around to anyone who wanted help. That was his forte. A remarkable man of his times, he tried his very best along with other members of our ward to have road access to our village.  

But then before I knew it, I completed my higher secondary studies. And I could not fit into my “Vaddtea Angar” trousers any more. In order to pursue studies for my chosen career it was necessary to leave home for a city far away from home. During holidays I visited my folks every year who seemed a little older by then – and happily re-lived days of my teens in their midst and the folks around for a month or two. And then a few years later after being employed abroad returned as a working man to have a great vacation in Goa. We were by then in the early Seventies. The sixties were over and out. So were the Beatles and Herman’s Hermits. Bell-bottoms, maxi gowns and platform shoes, slim-fit shirts and butterfly collars, ABBA, Silver Convention, Bee Gees and Night Fever, Baccara and Boney M. would be the next in.

Football was my passion. Simple things as pastime and the rustic lifestyle gave me and my friends pleasure. We enjoyed the little things we had and silently wished for greater things for our future. Just like any other kids. The players in my team were not only my class-mates, friends and neighbours, but everybody that I knew and those I held as special including teachers at my alma mater. They helped shape what I have today – an inner spirit that will forever reside in Goa.

Tony Felix Fernandes

Vaddtea angar - a term used in the Konkani language suggesting, indicating or recommending a slightly over-sized clothing for a growing child or a teenager.

Excerpted from my book 'GOA - Memories of My Homeland' (Poems & Stories) ISBN 097355150X.
Published and printed in Canada by Electica Publications Ontario 2004. Reprinted in Goa by Pilar Training Institute 2005.