SUNDAY, APRIL 28, 2024
RADHARAO F GRACIAS
I am back in Goa, after a week each in Porto and Lisbon. I find Portugal in autumn, is like Kodaikanal in summer, cool and bracing As we drive through the gently rolling countryside, the land rises to little hillocks topped by ash pine, cypress, cedar, alder and such trees from temperate climes, creating an impression to my Goan eyes that Portugal is celebrating Christmas, the year round. The eucalyptus with its white bark peeling off and silvery leaves are visible intruders in the dark green vista. But I hear no laughter of a Kookaburra.
The streets are clean. The footpaths free of madding crowds are broad and cobbled. Cars either do not have horns or the drivers have not learnt to honk! Motorcyclists are rare, cyclists galore. Traffic flows easy. Everything is calm and composed. And so is everyone. Nothing is out of place. Churches are plenty, ornamental and empty. No more do the Portuguese carry the Cross or the sword. It is as peaceful and orderly as was Goa, in my childhood.
During my entire stay I only had one casual encounter with a Goan and that at the Basilica do Estrela, at Sunday mass. I was to later learn that the number of Goans in Portugal may be just about ten thousand not excluding the current Prime Minister. Unlike in UK the Goans in Portugal are largely upper class and highly qualified, who migrated on merit, before and in the years after liberation. Later, they were joined by migrants of Goan descent, from the African colonies. The hordes, who have taken up Portuguese passports in recent times, have landed in UK and the type of work they do there is done in Portugal, by native migrants from Portuguese Africa, who constitute a visibly peaceful and thriving community, so unlike other blacks elsewhere on the continent.
Is there something about Portugal that makes the residents calm and peaceful?
I was advised by many that no visit to Portugal is complete unless one has tasted Pasteis de Belem. So off we go, do a round of the old Palace and the monastery of St. Jeronimo before attempting to satiate our taste buds. The queue for the tarts was as long, as the queue seen outside the Portuguese consulate at Altinho, Panjim till a few years ago. The Pasteis de Belem like Coca cola is based on a well guarded family held secret recipe. The other pasteis are known as pasteis de nata. We tried both. But to the uninitiated, it is impossible to distinguish between the two. But, I must say both the tarts are really wonderful. However, we Goans who picked up our culinary practices from the Portuguese are not too far behind. The Jilla bakery at Camurlim, Salcete prepares a delicacy similar to the pasteis called eclairs which has earned a similar reputation. But no amount of standing in a queue will get it for you, unless you have pre-ordered it! I am glad that I have tasted the Pasteis de Belem as returning without doing so, would be like visiting Goa and not dining at Martin’s Corner!
When in Lisbon no one can escape the pasteis nor avoid Cascais which is home to Boca do Inferno, a deep cavern into which the Atlantic Ocean roars in, raising hell. The mouth of hell, indeed it is. Perhaps it is a counterpart to the more placid Boca de Vaca at Panjim!
Sintra, a municipal town lies to the North of Cascais. It is the Malabar Hill of Lisbon the haunt of the rich and powerful with an eye-catching beachfront flanked on the east, by imposing cliffs. It is filled with historic castles, palaces, churches, ruins and a Nature Park shared with Cascais, to explore which we lacked the time. Sintra is also home to Cabo da Roca the westernmost point of mainland Portugal, continental Europe, and the Eurasian landmass, the easternmost point of which landmass is at Cape Dezhnev in Russia on the Pacific Ocean more than twelve thousand kilometres away. The cabo is capped by a lighthouse which has guided sailors into Lisbon harbour for centuries, before technology made it redundant. Standing on the edge, pummelled by cold and strong winds I gaze over the abyss hoping to find the lights of Delaware across the Atlantic. No luck though!
We have a look around Casa de Goa with its spacious library and later have lunch with the knowledgeable Dr Jose Felipe Monteiro a co founder and former President of the Casa. He had emigrated after graduating from Dhempe College and studied medicine in Lisbon. Despite being separated from his ancestral land for long, his love for Goa is unbound. He has ancestral roots in Loutolim and is nephew of Brigadier (retd) Innocencio Monteiro of the Indian Army.
I must confess that after my brief sojourn, my respect for Thimaya Nayak (Timoja of the Portuguese Chroniclers) a Goan resident of Honavar commander of the Vijaynagar Navy and Mahal Poi from Verna a leader of the Gaoud Saraswat Community of Goa has risen several notches. It is these two gentlemen who persuaded Afonso de Albuquerque the commander of the Portuguese Naval forces to change course set for the Red Sea and instead attack Goa. Under their guidance and assistance the Portuguese defeated the Adil Khan (Idalcao) the Turkish ruler of Goa. After having briefly seen Portugal, it is difficult to dispute that these two gentlemen had the right perspective about the administrative abilities of the Portuguese. It is their foresight that has made Goa what it is now or rather what it was, before the rot set in. If not for them, perhaps there would be no bikini clad tourists on our beaches. The burka would be the norm!
(The writer is a senior Trial Court Advocate, a former Independent MLA, a political activist, with a reputation for oratory and interests in history and ornithology.)
