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Showing posts with label My Alma Mater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Alma Mater. Show all posts

Thursday, October 16, 2014

NOBODY TRIPS OVER MOUNTAINS



ONE CROSSING TOO MANY 
'Crossing the hill not once,
but everyday, throughout the schooling years 1953 - 1964,
and yes, there were pebbles along the way and a steep climb.
My Alma Mater on the Hill
called 'Monte de Guirim' -
St. Anthony's High School, Bardez, GOA. India.
View from Parra to Saligao road.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

HILLCREST OF SERENITY


View of a glorious sunset from the Hill

No vacations to Goa over the years are ever complete without a visit to the Chapel of St. Francis of Assisi, situated at the crest of the hill of my Alma Mater, St. Anthony's High School, Monte de Guirim in Bardez.

On a pleasant evening of my short vacation in Goa some years ago, fond memories of the days when I once walked up and down the verdant hill as a day-scholar from Guirim, keep gushing to my mind like watching an old movie filled with emotional vignettes of the past as I ride up on a scooter along the spiraling road up to the top of the hill. I notice some changes as time has passed by, like for instance the colourful 14 Stations of the Cross on the side of the road.

Then, as I arrive at the top, there is something very serene, a sense of solace that I have always found here since the time when I was a young boy studying at this fine, vibrant and well-known institution of its kind in Goa.

There still prevails something special and sentimental about this place that has remained undiminished over the years. Perhaps it is the silence, a certain stillness in the air, a feeling of comfort and peace at this crest that I embrace, reminiscing in abundant nostalgia on every visit. I am sure that many ex-students, teachers, Fathers and visitors alike have their own similar experiences of this nature to relate when time seems to stand still and a certain calm and tranquility prevails, as one is far away and high above the hustle and bustle of busy towns and crowded cities.

There are many memories of my childhood and youth that I can connect with this place. First of all, the beautiful chapel of St. Francis of Assisi facing the vast expanse of fields, the villages of Saligao, Nagoa, Arpora, Calangute, Candolim, Parra, Verla, Canca and the Arabian Sea in the distance. The plateau in front of the chapel once served as a PT & drill area, Mission Sunday fete and various other festivities, reading at Retreats, or reading/studying under the shade of the famous 'nunerca' tree or perhaps at times just losing oneself in one own's thoughts, or simply admiring a beautiful sunset. As for me I could just sit here for hours in all its serenity. 

 During the early 1960's, it was on this top of the hill that students learned to play the violin, piano and guitar in the music room which was located besides the chapel, while on the red cement benches boys had singing sessions of popular songs of the time like 'Buttercup of Golden Hair' by Dean Martin, 'Besame Mucho' by Connie Francis, 'Wooden Heart' and 'Surrender' by Elvis Presley during the afternoon recess.

It was also here that parents and guardians came to visit students in the boarding school during the afternoon recess in the parlour next to the music room.

These and other memories I still hold close to my heart. Time eventually passes by, and the visit is short-lived as it is time to say 'Adeus' with a hope of visiting the serene and tranquil place once again in the future.

 Enjoying the beautiful panorama around me I notice that a lot of changes have taken place around the area over the years including a shrine dedicated to  Monte Friars who have passed away. The sun is just a little above the horizon bidding adieu to yet another beautiful day. It's time to say goodbye once more before I head for home as the bells toll for Angelus.


View of the hill from Parra-Saligao Road.

I could just sit here for hours.
Chapel of St. Francis of Assisi

Sunday, October 23, 2011

WORLD MISSION SUNDAY

WORLD MISSION SUNDAY

Today is World Mission Sunday. Here is my faint recollection of how it was celebrated, when I was very young, by the fathers, brothers, teachers, students who volunteered with their efforts and also by the people from Guirim and surrounding areas who patronised the occasion with their active support and participation in one way or another. This article was first written and published for circulation via Goanet Reader, a part of the Goanet to give a voice to the diversity of the Goan experience, in cyberspace on Sunday 22 October 2006.

MISSION SUNDAY AT MONTE (circa 1957)

by Tony Felix Fernandes

From  the first day of the academic year, the thin blue book, otherwise known
as the school calendar, played an important part. It became a integral part of school and outlined events for the entire year. It was like a central figure among other thicker books of different subjects. It was of course none other than the school calendar.

It had its own distinct outside appearance - school’s name at the top, its shield
along with the timeless and memorable caption ‘AD ARDUA’ just under it.
It could be easily identified along with the students name, class and division
at the bottom.

Felicio often glanced through the pages in order to see what significant events
and holidays lay ahead that were mentioned in the calendar. One of the important
dates mentioned therein was Mission Sunday - the second last Sunday in the
month of October. Young Felicio looked forward to this day from the beginning
of the academic year that started on June 6th. He had learned that it was a day
dedicated to the Catholic Missions all over the world.

There was quite an activity going on at the school prior to this eventful day at
Monte, in preparation for Mission Sunday. Manystudents volunteered, taking part
and organizing the occasion, with the help of Teachers, Fathers and Brothers.
The day began with a special Mass. The fun-filled event followed immediately
after lunch.

Felicio was a day scholar. He lived just down the hill and across the fields.
Soon after lunch he joined other boys who also climbed up the hill to finally witness
what they had so far been earnestly hoping to experience. As Felicio approached the Cross up the winding slope that led to the Chapel, he was amazed to find that the place was already bustling with activity. He could hear the different mingling of sounds – music and the usual din of a bustling fair. Was he late? Did he miss something?
  
Felicio’s legs ached as he anxiously raced up the steep slope. He had tried to takea short cut through the cashew trees on the northern side of the hill and he found out to his dismay that it had been a difficult walk, as his classmates had warned him.

As he finally made it to the chapel courtyard, he wished he could rest on one of the red-cemented benches under the giant nunerca tree. But to his surprise that particulararea was occupied by a group of boys who were quite engrossed in singing. One the boys was strumming on the guitar. That must be the impromptu school beat group,

he thought! Luckily the music seemed to have soothed his aching knees and throbbing chest. All the boys were dressed in their Sunday best. Felicio had donned his slightly loose blue shirt and favourite black trousers that he hoped would fit him well by Christmas! ‘Vaddtea angar’ all over again.

He was astonished to see so many different stalls set up all around the perimeter of the courtyard of the chapel.  There were also game booths set up along the corridor leading to the junior dormitory.  After an initial survey of the grounds and looking over at all the booths, he decided that he should try his luck at some of the games like ‘feed the tiger’, ‘test your nerves’, ‘wheel of fortune’, ‘light the candles’, ‘drop the coin in the tub’, ‘find the treasure’, ‘shoot into the net’ and other games of skill.

He was happy to see some of his classmates having taken charge of some booths, while others were helping around various other tasks. He hoped that the following year they would let him participate in helping out too.

Felicio had been looking forward to this Sunday. He had been told by one of the
Fathers what Mission Sunday was all about during the previous week at the ‘Religion’ period. He had gone home that day and told his mother about this forthcoming event to be held at the school. His mother had given him some money to spend on that occasion. It wasn’t much of a sum in cash, but now the time had come to use it successfully and have some fun at the same time. It seemed that a daunting task lay before him for the time being in handling money wisely. He had to somehow effectively manage to use that little money equally at all the games of his choice, giving preference to and trying his hand at some of the games that interested him the most. It wouldn’t matter if he did not win a prize. At the same time he thought that winning wouldn’t matter at all since it was all for a good cause - he remembered what Father had said during the ‘Religion’ instruction period - that the money would be going towards the Missions and the poor of the world.

Luck was on his side on Mission Sunday, and he had won at a couple of game tables. One of them was lighting all the candles with a single match stick that nearly singed his thumb and forefinger. He did not succeed at first. So he moved away, cupping his right hand fingers with his left. He wanted to put his fingers to his ears as his grandmother had told him so on several occasions in the past, but he shied away from doing that, thinking that he would make a public laughing stock of himself. Instead, he intently watched other boys and instantly understood that the trick was to actually start with the right hand and carefully transfer the burnt-out end with the left hand. And he had succeeded.  But some boy behind him said: Not allowed! Not allowed! That had been a favourite phrase of students those days. He had not looked back to see who he was, lest he lost his concentration. It was perhaps his class mate Anthony who always joked around, or perhaps had run out of money already! Later he thought that he should try his hand at feeding the tiger. At first he was very anxious to try this game, but as there were so many big boys gathered around the area, Felicio thought that he would make a tragic fool of himself, and so he changed his mind and walked away. He noticed that the tiger’s mouth was too small for its body size and he was too far away!
He wandered about in the environs for a while, talking to some of his classmates and watching others try the various games of skill. Then as he casually turned around he saw a Volkswagen Beetle suddenly pull up near the Cross. It was the second time that he had seen this car at Monte. He paced slowly around it in awesome wonder and was reluctant to take his eyes away from the automobile. Unlike the trucks that hauled fire-wood up the slope, the engine of this car was running whisper quiet. No wonder he had not heard it pull up.

Later he decided to give a listen to the school musicians who were playing and singing on the south-west corner of the fair-grounds. He noticed that it was led by a student who played the guitar. He was a boarder. His parents were in East Africa. Felicio had watched him practice in the same place during the afternoon recess several times before and had admired at his skill. He was in a higher class. He sang‘Three coins in the fountain’, followed by a song that went something like: “Have faith, hope, and charity... that's the way to live successfully."  Other boys were singing alongtoo and clapping hands keeping up the tempo and the singer’s enthusiasm. They had chosen the right songs, Felicio thought, as it seemed that ‘the three Coins’ referred to the few coins he had still left in his pocket - as he constantly reached into his pocket to make sure they he did not lose them; and ‘faith and hope’ he thoughtimplied that he must have faith in himself and hope to win at least some of the gamesof skill, while ‘charity’ suggested that he should not worry if his efforts went the otherway!

Just then he noticed that a group of boys had gathered near the balustrade surrounding the Cross. From that cluster came music that sounded like a radio broadcast. He was curious to see what it was. Fellow students had circled another ex-student visiting Monte that day, showing off an amazingly tiny radio that fitted so well into his breast pocket. Felicio would later come to know that it was one of our world’s great invention. It was called ‘the pocket transistor radio’ that he had seen at Monte for the first time.

It seemed the afternoon had passed away so quickly. Felicio had thoroughly enjoyed himself. The pocket radio and the Volkswagen Beetle had made his day.

From  the top of the plateau and standing there at the white balustrade surrounding the Cross he could see the vast stretch and expanse of the Arabian Sea, the hills of Saliga and Sinquerim to the south, and Baga and Anjuna towards the north. Time had usually stood still at this very spot many times before, especially during afternoon recess when he had admired this spectacular scenery. But it had definitely not on this day.  The sun was seemingly all set and ready to plunge gradually into the horizon for a night’s repose.

Suddenly, Felicio realized that he had ahead of him a long way to walk home before dark. But not until he had tried his hand at ‘feed the tiger’. So, without further ado
he proceeded straight to the booth. That was Felicio’s final personal mission.

He had almost forgotten to get his courage back to check that one out. He felt for the last remnants of small change he had left in his hip pocket. He would certainly not leave without feeding and taming the tiger. Let the big boys laugh if they wanted to, should he fail in his endeavour to throw the ball through the tiger’s mouth. And he had dared and won – he had fed the tigerwith the last ball. It had been a great and enjoyable day.

It was called the Mission Sunday. Ad Ardua. True to the cause.
And I know this story is true. Felicio is my middle name.

Tony Fernandes (a.k.a. Felicio) 
Class of 1964
St. Anthony’s High School, Monte de Guirim, Goa


Tony Fernandes टोनी फेर्नान्देस
Tony Fernandes टोनी फेर्नान्देस
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Saturday, June 13, 2009

ST. ANTHONY OF PADUA



ST. ANTHONY'S HIGH SCHOOL
MONTE DE GUIRIM, BARDEZ, GOA



MONTE CHRONICLES
by Tony Fernandes

FINDER OF LOST THINGS
PATRON OF SAILORS, 
TRAVELERS AND FISHERMEN


Today is the feast day of Saint Anthony of Padua, born 1195, died 13th June 1231. Incidentally, Tuesday, dedicated to him, is the day of his funeral. In the true Goan tradition - 'Happy Feast' - greetings and good wishes to all on this forum. May the good St. Anthony shower his blessings on everyone for their well being, health and happiness.

St. Anthony is the patron saint of sailors, travelers and fishermen in many countries like Portugal, Italy, France and Spain. He is also a saint of the poor, the sick, the homeless and lepers, the paralytic, the blind and the deaf. His statue is sometimes placed on the masts of ships. And of course he is well known for his miracles all over the world. Incidentally, St. Anthony was actually Portuguese and from Lisbon, and not Padua, where he died.  And by the way, St. Francis of Assisi, was an Italian Roman Catholic friar, deacon, preacher and founder of the Franciscan Order that St. Anthony belonged to.

But to us folks in Goa he is well known too, honoured and respected, petitioned for his blessings, and attributed in religion and in legend in various aspects.


Besides being the Patron Saint of my alma mater, the good and miraculous St. Anthony has churches and chapels dedicated in his honour all over . His statues, framed pictures and paintings in all shapes and sizes are prominently displayed in every Goan home. Buses have his name printed in large bold signage on both sides, like for instance – “St. Anthony’s Travels” is not uncommon, while the front and rear of many buses and taxis read: “St. Anthony, Pray for Us”. His statue or his picture is almost everywhere – inside buses and in taxis and in restaurants. Would it not then, be remiss not to mention that so many of us are baptized in his very name, like myself for instance.

Restaurants bearing his name may be acceptable to some extent, but what has bewildered me most, since a long time ago, is that big tavernas bearing his name serve liquor – such as “St. Anthony’s Bar” to quote one. Having been unable to either transform or change that fact, I have finally come to reluctantly accept it. And that too, in a way perhaps, justifies - it may be well meant from the point of view of the owners of such establishments. Though I’d like to think so only on the lighter side, without offence or ridicule meant or referred,  only to simply say that I would like to believe that the intentions of the tavernas’ owners are good and sincere after all.


In as much as they would like their business to prosper in the Saint’s good name and patronage, I think they all mean well otherwise. Perhaps they assume that after their guests have consumed their quota of spirits and departed (I mean for home), it is then up to St. Anthony to have pity, forgive and guide the intoxicated or tipsy men safely home!


We are lucky to have St. Anthony as our patron too. Personally, I have invoked his intervention many times and he has obliged. I guess he has been a guiding light and a source of inspiration to students of Monte.

St. Anthony is also the one who is invoked for his intervention in recovering lost articles. I remember I did that as a teenager. Even now I often ask for his help, perhaps because of my own fault and bad memory, but nevertheless he always obliges by bestowing his blessings.

As a young lad I remember praying to St. Anthony for rain. My grandma was worried and distressed with thoughts of crops failing. So, on a beaten path making a bee-line through the fields my grandmother led our family and the rest of the folks in the village carrying a little statue of St. Anthony, treading their way to the Holy Cross to sing to her favourite saint a Litany. While praying and singing in harmony, everyone had trust in the miraculous cross and of course in St. Anthony. Invariably it rained that very night. When we woke up the next morning the fields were soaked to the joy of everyone.

There are many more legends that prevail about St. Anthony in our beautiful land, Goa.

The most well known is one of Saint Anthony and Child Jesus playing on his prayer book, as portrayed both in statues and in holy pictures. The account of this legend is that Saint Anthony was once passing through the region of Limoges in France, and as night fell, a rich businessman in that area had offered hospitality, rest and silence to Saint Anthony in his country estate. He was given a separate room to meditate and pray in peace. But it is believed that during the night his host passed by his lighted window. There in a brilliant light he saw a little infant of great beauty playing on a prayer book that the Saint was reading. The witness trembled at the sight, and in the morning Saint Anthony, to whom it had been disclosed that his host had seen the visitation, called him and requested him not to disclose it to anyone as long as he lived. That little infant was Child Jesus. Appropriately so, there is a very touching hymn in our very own Konkani language that is sung and dedicated to him. Here is it below.


Sant Antoni ochoreanchea Santa,
Portugal tuzo onod vortouta,
Tujea livrar ballok khelta,
Menin Jezu Razancho
Raza.


(Miraculous St. Anthony,

Portugal is proud of your glory,
On your prayer book plays
Child Jesus King of Kings)

An imposing life-size statue stands to this very day in the very same spot for more than half a century at the entrance to our school in old stone building which portrays St. Anthony carrying Infant Jesus in his left hand and bread in his right. But more on St. Anthony’s bread later.

“HAPPY FEAST” to all.
13th June 2009
Tony Fernandes
Class of 1964
ST. ANTHONY'S HIGH SCHOOL
MONTE DE GUIRIM
BARDEZ, GOA, INDIA.

Above is the picture of the rare life-size statue of St. Anthony of Padua, holding bread in his right hand, and the Christ Child seated on his left arm. The statue, placed at the front of the main school building situated on the hill known as Monte de Guirim, faces North with his benevolent serene gaze over all those who pass through the portal of our great Alma Mater and beyond the vast stretches of land and fields that extend up to the hills of Mapusa town.

To read about St. Anthony's Bread, please click on the following link:
http://tonferns.blogspot.ca/2012/06/blog-post_10.html