The village of Saligao situated to the north-west of Goa in the Bardez taluka (sub-district) is much different today than what it used to be in the 1940s. And so am I, of course! Nevertheless, those formative years as a small lad growing up in this picturesque and charming . . . → Read More: Reminiscences Of Saligao Of The 1940s]]> by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas

The village of Saligao situated to the north-west of Goa in the Bardez taluka (sub-district) is much different today than what it used to be in the 1940s. And so am I, of course! Nevertheless, those formative years as a small lad growing up in this picturesque and charming Goan village left a deep and indelible impression on my mind; an impression that remains intact with me to this day.

I remember that – in addition to my family members – there were quite a few others who made quite an impact on my young mind. One of them was Bolu Mauxi. She was a kind and religious woman in our neighbourhood, but she liked to maintain a stern and tough demeanour. She led the religious rituals in the Chapel of St Anne located in Tabravaddo; at the ward cross; and, also at the time when the statue of Our Lady of Miracles was installed in the homes. Before she lost her sight she initiated another woman – Idinha Menezes e Remédios – in carrying out the religious services which lay people were authorized to conduct. Many people did consult Bolu Mauxi on other matters. Her take on historical dates and facts were noteworthy, if not always verifiable. She once told me that Saligaokars lost their sugarcane trade soon after the Second World War as refined sugar was freely available at low prices in the ration shops in Saligao, Calangute and Mapuça.

Another lady I remember was Preciosa Remedios commonly known as Precy tiê. She was called to homes in the neighbhourhood whenever someone was sick. She placed her ears on the chest of the patients, examined the colour of the tongue, felt the pulse and quickly came up with her diagnosis, prescribing some innocuous “medicines” to hasten the cure, probably based on her keen observation of real doctors and real prescriptions. If she felt the case was indeed a serious one, warranting authentic medical attention, she graciously made arrangements to summon Dr. António Pinto do Rosário or Dr. Pedrito Rodrigues, both from Porvorim; or, Dr. Avelino Carvalho or Dr. Menino Machado, both from Saligao, to visit the patients at home. The seriousness of the case could be guessed according to the doctors chosen for the particular case. Then Precy tiê would follow the progress of the patient, as a voluntary helper.

Then there was Lizzie Cordeiro, a young lady who instilled fear in the minds of youngsters. Her facial expression, characterized by widening of her eyes to the size of saucers, was enough to silence the crying of the small lads and lasses. I was terribly afraid of her and even at this old age memories of her cause the hair on my hands to stand!

School strolls

I also remember my uncle taking me on walks, especially to areas where there were schools. He showed me the Costa’s school at Mollembhatt, and another one next to Martinho Cordeiro’s house in Arrarim, run by Pulquéria Lobo, sister of Anacleto Lobo, our principal at the Mater Dei Institute.  Then there was the primary Portuguese school run by Professora Alice. While the physical structure of these schools now lies in ruins, the same definitely cannot be said of the education imparted to the many who attended these schools.

I always passed the Escola Primaria de Saligao, popularly known as Aula, on my way to our Saligao village church. I learnt the three R’s at the Saligao Union School at Arrarim. I cannot forget Miss Marilia de Abreu, who fed me well with knowledge as well as chocolates.

Finally, in the late forties, I was sent to Mater Dei. Whilst in the fourth standard, besides English we had a public Primeiro grau exam in Portuguese. During the oral examination the public was allowed to witness the event and many a parent or guardian went with great enthusiasm to hear their children answer the questions before a board of three professors, two invited from outside and one our own Portuguese teacher. The only tragic thing about this exam was that the results were declared publicly on the same day. Looking back, I feel it was cruel. One can imagine the traumatic experience of a nine-year-old child being told publicly that he or she had failed, but that is the way it was. On the other hand, those who passed celebrated by firing crackers. My success was celebrated with chunks of salt thrown into the kitchen fire at home.

Revelling in the rain

When the first rains came, umbrellas and wooden slippers (khaddavo or chirpam) made their appearance, and schools opened in the third week of June However on 13^th June, St. Anthony’s feast day, we jumped in the wells. The same ritual was followed on 24^th June, the feast of St. John (San Joao), going from house to house.

I clearly remember the day my friend Santan Mendes and I went to Buddugeli Baim for a dip in that famous well. I was not adept at swimming, although in previous years with vanzam (empty coconut shells) tied to my back I did swim in that same well. This time I plunged in without vanzam and was struggling to stay afloat even as I tried desperately to move to the edge and climb out. Risking his own life, Santan dived in to save me. Finally we both emerged out alive. A young lass who witnessed the scene reported every detail of the incident to my people at home. Well, I was saved alright, but the sound beating I received for my ill-advised escapade sends shivers up my spine even as I reminisce about it now.

Peace and war

In the evenings all the children played marbles. The ladies at home passed their time with tablam and the men with cards. Apart from the tensions of inter-vaddó or inter-village competitions in games such as football and cricket, life to us seemed comparatively peaceful, easy and full of fun.

The impact of the Second World War on me at my new institution, Saligao Union School, was harsh. They discontinued the annual prize distribution ceremony as the prices of the prizes had shot up and they could not afford to procure them in sufficient numbers. In other schools they even cancelled the Annual Day function.

Sugar and kerosene were rationed and one had to stand for hours to get one’s quota. However we had rice and other ingredients for our xitt-koddi. But shortage or no shortage, life went on. By September 1945, the war had come to an end, and with it ended an era. There was a new school, Lourdes Convent High School, started in Cotula in 1946 by the Franciscan Missionaries of Christ the King, which is still running at present at Donvaddo/Sonarbhatt. The Saligao Seminary was nearing completion and we visited it frequently where we met our Chaplain of St. Anne’s Chapel, Fr. Paulo Arcanjo de Menezes from Sangolda. On the way we passed the Christuleacho Vôd (banyan tree said to be haunted by the ghost of Christalina), which is the Gateway to Saligao.

I also remember the Rev. Parish Priests such as Fr. Cruz Gaspar Viegas from Carmona, Fr. António das Mercês de Melo from Verna and his Assistant Fr. José Roberto Vás from Raia. It was during their tenure that I made my First Holy Communion in the forties. In 1948, the 75^th year of the foundation of Saligao Church was celebrated on 26^th November. That evening, after the High Mass, Fr. Hermínio Inácio da Vitória Pinto Lobo from Pequeno Morodd regaled us all with classical and devotional pieces sung by his choir from Panjim in the portico of the Church and ended that evening function rendering the famous Saligao Anthem “O Brilhante e a Estrela”.

The wonder years

I must say I spent my first delightful years at Mater Dei during the late forties. I can never forget the teachers at Mater Dei, such as Mr. Anacleto Lobo (Principal),  Mrs. Ines Lobo (school clerk), the secretary Mr. Lobo, Mrs. Pulqueria, Ms. Olive, Ms. Helene, Mr. Lubino Sequeira, Mr. Sakardande, Mr. Kolgaonkar, Mr. Kenkre, Mr. Robert Luis, Mr. Varkey, Mr. Joshi, Mr. Archibald Serrão, Mr. W. Stephen, Ms D’Souza from Mangalore,  Mr. Fructuoso D’Sousa ( Mr. Fruto), Ms. Nancy D’Sousa, Ms. Zita Carvalho, Mr. Caitie Vaz, Mr. Mantri and Fr. Alvaro Martins from Taleigão.

In the forties, school hours extended from morning to evening. The students used to often ask the inimitable secretary Mr. Lobo at about 4.30 p.m. what time it was and his answer would invariably be, “Ten minutes past half past four!”

Mater Dei won several trophies in football tournaments and athletics meets. These trophies are still on display in the school cupboards. We had boy scout and girl guides units, as well as Mocidade Portuguêsa. The Portuguese Commandants trained us in marching, drills, songs, etc.

In 1947 India achieved independence and the tricolour was flown everywhere in India, except Goa. In was hoisted in Goa on 19^th December, 1961 and Goa became part of Indian Union. That was the end of the Portuguese era, an era that was such an important factor of my childhood years growing up in the quaint Goan village of Saligao.

Today is Valentine’s Day, the day earmarked to celebrate love and romance between couples. The history behind the origin of this festival is rather blurred, and there are several stories that link it to both Christian as well as ancient Roman traditions. The Church recognises more than one martyr named Valentine/Valentinus. . . . → Read More: Unrequited Love In Saligao]]> by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas

Today is Valentine’s Day, the day earmarked to celebrate love and romance between couples. The history behind the origin of this festival is rather blurred, and there are several stories that link it to both Christian as well as ancient Roman traditions. The Church recognises more than one martyr named Valentine/Valentinus. However, the Roman Catholic Calendar of Saints no longer mentions Saint Valentine on February 14th (St. Cyril and St. Methodius are associated with this date).

One of the legends refers to Valentine, a Roman priest and physician, who, during the reign of Emperor Claudius II, ministered to Christians in prison and often helped them escape. One fine day the Emperor decided that a man without the encumbrance of a wife and children would make a better soldier, and so he prohibited young men to marry. Valentine ignored this decree and continued to perform marriages for young couples. When the Emperor found out about this disregard for his command, he ordered that Valentine be executed. In prison, on the night before he was to be put to death, it is said that Valentine wrote a letter to the jailer’s daughter – whom he had befriended earlier after miraculously curing her blindness – and ended the letter with “From your Valentine”. So that’s why lovers send “valentines” to each other on February 14th, the day of St. Valentine’s execution in 269 AD. Of course there is no verifiable historical evidence for most of these contentions, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that last part about the letter and greetings was concocted by some canny greeting card company!

Anyway, over the years Valentine’s Day has come to be associated with many charming stories and forms the basis for much folklore. Let me tell you one such story from our very own village:

Back in the middle of the twentieth century, there lived a young lad and young lass in the village of Saligao in Goa. The lad, named Sacra Familia, resided not far from the lass, named Ursula. One year, on the 14th of February, no longer able to keep secret his fervent love for her, the lad somehow plucked up enough courage and sent the lass a Valentine card. He waited and waited for the girl of his dreams to respond, but Ursula ignored him completely. Sacra Familia was sad and dejected but refused to give up hope, and during the next few years put in place a strategy to woo Ursula. Celebrity portmanteaux such as Brangelina, TomKat, Bennifer and whatnot might be popular these days, but our Sacra Familia was way ahead of the game and concocted his own name-blend a good half-century ago. He proclaimed to all and sundry that he and his supposed girlfriend would henceforth be known as Sacrula (Sacra+Ursula)!!

Sacrula did not stop at just that. To impress his ladylove he learned a host of magic tricks and acrobatic acts and would perform them on demand as he rode his Raleigh bicycle through the village. He would deliver sermons at prominent points in the village, and they invariably ended in this manner: “Who are the three greatest men on earth? First the Pope [at that time it was Pope Pius XII], second Dr. Salazar [the then prime minister of Portugal], and third – SACRULA.”

Sacrula: Photo by Joseph St. Anne, from his book “Echoes – The Spirit of Saligao and Goa”.

To make his muse and himself famous, he covered the length and breadth of Goa and even travelled to some towns and cities of India. His peculiar dressing style was possibly intended to resemble that of a Franciscan friar or perhaps St. Anthony of Lisbon. In his book Feasts, Feni and Firecrackers, Mel D’Souza provides a graphic description of Sacrula: “He would style his hair in the form of a halo resembling that of a saint. He wore a brown shirt with puffy sleeves, frilly cuffs, a frilly collar and frilly shirt front. His shirt matched his dark brown Jodhpur slacks which had a thick cord tied around the waistband. His footwear was a pair of regular slippers except that his had a strap that went behind the ankle.”

The cord around Sacrula’s waist would have a Cross hanging at the side and he would often carry a statue of St Anthony with him. Wherever he went, people would soon gather around. Bowing to the crowd, and with folded hands, Sacrula would then deliver his sermons in chaste English, Konkani, Portuguese, Marathi or Hindi as appropriate.

During Lent, at the Carrying of the Cross Passo in Saligao, which in our days went around the Aula Road and took a turn at the Tinto Road in the direction of the church, Sacrula always attracted the attention of the processionalists and especially of Ursula as he stationed himself dressed in his favourite finery, at the third Descano (where the procession stopped to meditate on a Motete), near the Cotula fields.

Unfortunately the story of Sacrula does not have a happy ending. Sacra Familia never married Ursula, and they died some years ago, he a bachelor, and she a spinster.

If I am a priest today, I owe it in no small measure to the early guidance I received from Patricio A C Vaz, popularly known as Patru, from Donvaddo in Saligao. At St. Anne’s Chapel, not far from where I lived, whenever the twin-brother priests Monsenhor Cosme, Parish Priest of . . . → Read More: Patru, My Guide]]> by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas

If I am a priest today, I owe it in no small measure to the early guidance I received from Patricio A C Vaz, popularly known as Patru, from Donvaddo in Saligao. At St. Anne’s Chapel, not far from where I lived, whenever the twin-brother priests Monsenhor Cosme, Parish Priest of Santa Cruz, Ilhas, or Fr. Tome Cordeiro, Educationist in Carona de Aldona, from Mollebhatt; or Fr. Francisco dos Remedios, Vice-Rector of Damao Seminary, from Tabravaddo; or Fr. Eugenio Francisco Xavier Sequeira, Superior General of Pilar Society, from Donvaddo; or Monsenhor Valentino das Chagas Fernandes, Dean of Margao, and Fr. Faustino de Sousa, founder of the Congregation of the Holy Family of Nazareth, both from Mudd’davaddi, and other priests returned to their respective residences on holidays, we youngsters would assemble every morning in St. Anne’s Chapel (there were three altars then) to serve their Masses as altar boys.

Patricio Vaz would guide us in serving them at the Eucharist and if we went wrong at any point, he was always there to help us. He never shouted at us nor raised his hand in anger. He corrected us gently and patiently. He also made sure that we pronounced the words correctly in Latin, as at that time all Masses were conducted in Latin.

Patru loved us much and tolerated our mischief too. He loved us much and tolerated our mischief too. His kindness and courtesy were beyond measure. He often carried sweets and other goodies in his pockets, probably with the sole intention of sharing them with us. Somehow, whenever and wherever help was needed, Patru magically appeared. As a result, he was a household name in Saligao.

He was particularly fond of me and often narrated to me stories about the Saints, explained the meaning of the Mass, and told me the life stories of some exemplary priests – thus, I felt a flame burning in my heart to embrace the priesthood. This vocation was reinforced in my heart and mind by my family members also. May God reward them all.

From the organisation of the Sunday liturgy or the annual St. Anne’s feast, to giving final touches to the funerals of the dear departed, to using his influence in matters social, religious and even governmental, Patru was always at the forefront. The fantastic annual dances he organised on the occasion of the Church Feast, the football matches at which he officiated as a referee, can never be forgotten. Patru is also credited with having saved a woman from drowning, despite danger to his own health and life, and that too in the dead of night.

He served as an assistant sacristan in the Saligao Church and later migrated to Bombay in search of greener pastures. But Saligao beckoned him lovingly and insistently. He returned and set up his own bar near the old tinto, called Casa Vaz e Irmaos, which was very popular and successful up to 1961.

Patricio Antonio Caridade Vaz was the son of Sebastiao Caetano Vaz (Saligao) and of Ana Maria Mascarenhas (Siolim). He passed away at Donvaddo in Saligao on 2nd. October 1981. But, to quote the well-known epigram of Greek poet and scholar Callimachus, “A good man never dies.”

by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas

Just under 60 years ago, in the year 1952, when I was a lad growing up in Saligao, the North Goa taluka of Bardez, in which our village is located, was divided into 42 parishes and 39 Comunidades (communities). As I had completed the . . . → Read More: Saligao in the Fifties]]>

by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas

Just under 60 years ago, in the year 1952, when I was a lad growing up in Saligao, the North Goa taluka of Bardez, in which our village is located, was divided into 42 parishes and 39 Comunidades (communities). As I had completed the age of 12, I was admitted as a member of the Saligao Communidade as well as of the Confraria de Mãe de Deus Igreja de Saligao.

Let me record what things were like in the village back then, both from my memory as well as from miscellaneous documents in my possession.

There was a public library in the Instituto de Saligao located at Arrarim. It was known as “Grémio Literário e Recreativo de Saligao”.  There were a number of schools functional in the village during the years 1952-53. One was the Parochial School, which had been operational since 1873, although a separate building to house the school came up only in 1878. Then there was the Mater Dei Institution, founded in 1909. Lourdes Convent High School was opened in 1946 by the Society of the Franciscan Sisters of Christ the King. Besides these, there was Portuguese Primary School (Aula) and a few Marathi shalas at Mudd’davaddi and Arrarim.

The Mãe de Deus Church was founded on 26 November 1873 and the feast of the Patroness has always been held on the first Sunday of May. Earlier, our Catholic ancestors belonged to the Nagoa de Bardez Church founded in 1560.  We had chapels affiliated to Nagoa Church of the Blessed Trinity which were detached and attached to the new Saligao Church.  They are: Chapel of Santo Caetano in Arrarim built around 1655 and rebuilt in 1907; Chapel of Our Lady of the Rosary at Grande Morodd, inaugurated on 10 September 1793; Chapel of Anne at Mudd’davaddi, founded around 1843.  Besides, there were private chapels, namely, Chapel of St. Jerome at Dakhtti Mudd’davaddi (Sinvaddo), erected on  25 June 1729 by the Marques family;  Chapel of Our Lady of Victory, built before 1753 by Paulo de Menezes, behind where the church is now located – this chapel was demolished and its stones were used for the building of the new Church. There was also a Chapel of St. Anthony in the Hospital Clinic Ave Maria. This hospital was built in 1934 and the first mass was celebrated there on May 6, 1950. The Chapel of Our Lady of Lourdes of the FMCK nuns was established in 1946. There were also capelinhas (small chapels) and crosses in various wards of the village.

In the year 1952, on the 6^th of December, the Diocesan Minor Seminary of Saligao-Pilerne was blessed by Cardinal Manuel Gonsalves Cerejeira, Patriarch of Lisbon. The Chapel of N. Sra. Do Rosario da Fatima in the seminary was blessed in the same year.  Fr. Altino Ribeiro de Santana from Porvorim de Socorro was the first Rector of the seminary in 1953.  Fr. Alvaro Martis from Taleigao was the Chaplain of the FMCK Sisters at Saligao.

In 1952-53 we had Dr. Avelino dos Neves Carvalho of Cotula as the Regedor of the village. The escrivão of the Communidade of Saligao, located at Mudd’davaddi, was Hori Sinai Lotlekar. The Director of the aula was Alzira Maria do Carmo Souza. The head of the parish school and choir master was Mestre Eustaquio de Souza. Jacinto Travasso was the major sacristan and João José the meirinho (deputy sacristan) while the sextons were Menino, José and Pascoal, much loved by all.

• Post and Telegraph Office of Saligao had the following employees: Adolfo Domingos Moniz e Menezes (operator) and two postmen with grades. The first grade postman was Vitoba Sacarama Xete Gauncar and the second grade postman was Narcinva Baburau Naique commonly known as Nossu.

• The Rev. Parish Priest of Mãe de Deus Church, Saligao, was Fr. Antonio de Melo and his assistant (curate) was Fr. Roberto Vaz. The Dean was Fr. José Leandro de Abreu from Saligao, Parish Priest of Calangute.

• Funeral Agency was run by José Ornelio Caetano Euclides de Souza.

• Bicycles were given on hire by Benedito Assis Fernandes, Cantá Naraina Perneczar, Caxinata Vassudeva Chornancar, Dananjaia, Gavinha Saldanha, José Ormelio de Souza, Janardana Chornancar, José Quintiniano Mascarenhas, Panduranga Balcrisna Dondo and Pedro Caetano José Fernandes.

• A carpentry shop was run by Diago João Dias.

• Tea shops were run by Balcrisna Atmarama Bicholcar, Govinda Dagi Asgaocar, Purxotoma Esvonta Quercar, Sazu Naique Sangodcar, Sitarama Custam Quercar and Vassudev Xencora Xete Mapari.

• Distilleries were owned by Caetano Fernandes, Francisco Xavier Dias, Gonpota Ancusso Goencar, João Fernandes, Joaquim Remedios Gomes, Manuel Pereira, Pedro Xavier Fernandes, Piedade Andrade, Xavier Dias, Gonpota Ancusso Naique and Miguel Francisco Afonso de Ataide.

• Windmills for husking rice and cereal-crushing factories were owned by Filipe Feliciano Reis Magos de Sa and Lourenço Sabino Pereira.

• Grocery shops were run by Balcrisna Porob Padgãocar, Custam Esvonta Quercar, Damum Ramanata Naique, Esvonta R. Camotim, Gambert Fernandes, Gonexa Rogunata Poi,Gunam Crisna Tuencar, José Avelino Piedade Sequeira, José Ormelio Euclides de Souza, Mistrilal Boia, Panduronga Balcrisna Dondo, Panduronga Punaji Achrencar, Patricio Antonio Caridade de Barros, Podmanaba Camotim, Roguvira Raiu Naique and Vassudeva Porob Mambro.

• Goldsmiths were Gopinata Janardana Bandorcar, Janardana Ananta Chodnancar, Ramanata Xete Sangodcar and Roguvira S. Chatim.

• Owners of Bakeries: Agostinho Noronha, Caetano Rosario da Silva, José Placido Barreto and Tomas Pereira.

• In the village there were four doctors: Dr. Vaglo, Dr. Menino Machado, Dr. Avelino Carvalho and Dr. Florencio de Souza.

The Saligao cemetery was built in 1838 and blessed on 15 May 1839. In the 1950s, the Hindu community cremated the bodies of their dead on the hill above Mater Dei Institution. There were no Hindu temples at the time in the village, although Nouso Bikaji Salgaokar along with some others conducted religious services in a hut at Salmona in 1942. The Hindus were also active in nataks at Mudd’davaddi, Arrarim and Tabravaddo. In 1952-53, cultivation of fields was done more by Catholics than Hindus in Saligao.

Transportation  in Saligao was mostly by caminhão, gaddi (matchbox) and gaddé. A few affluent Saligaokars had cars. Many Saligaokars, especially those from the Catholic community, were based in other parts of the world such as Africa, Qatar, Abadan, Indian cities, Kuwait, and a few in Burma and UK.  Most of the Saligaokars returned home in April-May.  The village tinto, the salves of the church, and Calangute beach were the favorite meeting places of the villagers. Konkani and English were widely spoken, and a few conversed in Portuguese too.

Tiatr was a popular form of entertainment and these traditional plays were staged often in the village. Inter-ward football tournaments also fostered community spirit and brought people together. The villagers planted rice during the monsoons, and at other times sweet potatoes, beans chilies and other vegetables. Fish was available in plenty and the yield of mango, jackfruit,, papaya and other fruit was more than adequate.

We had ladainhas at the village crosses in May (followed by laudavinho – hail to wine!!) and also motets sung in homes during Lent. All the seven passos were held in the church, except the sixth one, which was held at St. Anne’s on Sunday and repeated at the Arrarim chapel the following Tuesday. For the processions that made their way from the church through parts of the village and back, with the confrades – members of various associations in their respective uniforms. The most colourful character of the village at the time, Sacro (Sacrula), depicting himself as a follower of St. Anthony, stood statuesquely at the 3^rd Descenso (3^rd Station).  No one dared to disturb him.  Little kids would stand at a distance and giggle to draw his attention. He remained motionless.

Those were the days my friends…

Many years ago, a young man named Felix D’Souza, from Mudd’davaddi in the village of Saligao, was prone to question just about everything he encountered, using a single  Portuguese word — porquê (why). After a while, his entire family was nicknamed Porque – pronounced ‘poorkhe’, although Saligao folk prefer to say . . . → Read More: His But To Reason Why]]> by Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas

Many years ago, a young man named Felix D’Souza, from Mudd’davaddi in the village of Saligao, was prone to question just about everything he encountered, using a single  Portuguese word — porquê (why). After a while, his entire family was nicknamed Porque – pronounced ‘poorkhe’, although Saligao folk prefer to say ‘porkey’.

The Porque house is very easy to find, for it is today the residence of the former Chief Minister of Goa, Dr Wilfred D’Souza. His Aunt Estefânia from Anjuna married a D’Souza from Saligao – the Porque of this story. Eventually Estefânia gifted their house to her nephew Dr Willy. Of course there was no question of porque in this matter.

The late Armando D’Souza of Cotula told the story of Porque quite graphically: “My neighbour Felix D’Souza, known as Porke, was a hulk of a youth in his late twenties, 6 feet 2 inches tall and weighing almost 300 lb, cut out to be more of a heavyweight wrestler than a football player. Nevertheless, Felix’s physical attributes strengthened the Saligao football team. In the 1930s, the Portuguese rulers sponsored a team of Portuguese military personnel and mesticos. Clubo Desportivo, as it was named, carried the day in every tournament held in Goa by sheer brute force and bravado, backed by the military, who mustered strong at every game. What it lacked in ability was made up for by intimidation. But the mere presence of Felix in the goal ensured that things would be different when the bully boys of Clubo Desportivo of Panjim played against the Saligao team. Felix’s services were specifically tailored to “crush” the opponents. He dealt adequately with the onrushing forward line, leaving aside the ball. His tactics brought rich dividends to the Saligao team and the trophies began finding their way to Saligao instead of Panjim.”

Of course, these days, if any goalkeeper runs after the players instead of protecting the goal, the coach would surely shout, “Porque, why are you leaving the goal open?!!”

One of the residents of the Porque house was Fr. Faustino de Sousa (uncle of Dr Willy). Fr Faustino founded an order of nuns, the Congregation of the Sacred Family of Nazareth, Sancoale. Some may have had questioned, “Porque? – why did he found a nun’s order?”  Now, Dr Willy is residing in the same house. And in politics everybody questions him – porque?

Thus the Porque tradition that began in the D’Souza mansion in the late 18^th century continues till today. Indeed, it’s unthinkable that anyone today would even remotely adhere to the credo “Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die”, to paraphrase Lord Tennyson’s description of the British cavalry in The Charge of the Light Brigade way back in 1854!

by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas

In the old days there were few mendicants in the villages of Goa. Those that did exist were neither professional beggars of the type one encounters in the cities of India today nor were they unknown vagrants. They were persons from the village, mainly from the labour . . . → Read More: Alms and the Man]]>

by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas

In the old days there were few mendicants in the villages of Goa. Those that did exist were neither professional beggars of the type one encounters in the cities of India today nor were they unknown vagrants. They were persons from the village, mainly from the labour class. Due to disability or old age, and having no close kin to support them, they were forced to seek alms for a living. Some of them had been rich, but after squandering their wealth in vice or due to some misfortune, were reduced to penury and begging.

There was a day appointed for begging on which the beggars went round houses singly or in groups – in Saligao this happened every Thursday. Each household gave each of them a handful of rice, some eatables and articles they needed. On receiving their alms, the beggars prayed aloud for the welfare of their benefactors and for the departed souls of the house. The Christian mendicants would recite the “Our Father” and “Hail Mary”, and the Hindu mendicants would say “Bessaum ghal Saiba he ghorabeacher” (God bless the members of this household). On occasions such as engagements and weddings, the beggars were served a ‘Bikareanchem Jevonn’, a sumptuous meal of pork, rice, sambarrachi or samarachi koddi (curry made with aromatic spices, thick and brown, with dried mango pickle to enliven it), feni, and also gifts of utensils and clothes.

On feast days – Christmas, Easter and the village patron saint’s day – the Christian beggars went round with ol’li (a small container made of bamboo strips) in hand for collecting handouts on the festive occasion. On such feasts every housewife planning the festive meal had in mind the number of village beggars (they did not exceed a dozen) and provided them with a share of san’na (rice cakes), vodde, sorpotel and, at Christmas, the sweet savoury known as neureô.

Some beggars came from other villages. One of the colourful ones was Artimiz (Artemisia). In his book Feasts, Feni and Firecrackers, Canada-based Saligao writer and artist Mel D’Souza vividly describes Artimiz: “She was from Assagao and quite a colourful character. In fact she was always very cheerful. Artemisia wore a hat of dried flowers resembling that of Hollywood’s Carmen Miranda in the 1940s. She always wore a dress. Her earthly belongings were wrapped in a bundle carried over her hip on which perched her scrawny cat. Tied around the cat’s neck was a thin leash of coir, the other end of which was tied around the wrist of Artemisia’s left hand. The right hand held a bamboo staff about four feet long. Artemisia was slightly bowlegged and wore canvas runners with no laces. Artemisia was a very sprightly woman with a brisk walk. She would signal her approach with the rasping sound of her voice as she’d wave her right arm in the Sign of the Cross and blurt out blessings in Latin. It was very easy to strike up a conversation with Artemisia. If she wanted to take a break, she’d sit on the steps of the balcony, put down the bundle containing her belongings, and let her cat step off for a little stroll. When she was ready to leave she would put the bundle of belongings on her hip, pull sharply on the leash, and flip the cat from the ground right on to its perch on the bundle. It was sheer poetry in motion.”

Another character that visited Saligao frequently was Jeron (Jeronimo) from Mapusa. I don’t recall ever giving him rice; rather it was always some money, slipped into my hands by my aunties. He gave me his blessing, muttering something in broken Latin. You could ask him to sing and he composed songs that he alone understood, although he did have a good voice. Like the other beggars of that era, he too was very honest and never stole anything though in the daylight hours the doors of our houses were wide open.

I remember another beggar. He was a Sasthikar (a man from Salcete) who resided in Socorro.  His name was Jose Maria.  He was nicknamed Juz Mari.  He had a 12-year-old son. He sang his way through the village, with his son too joining in for good measure. One song I remember was, “Ami bikari fore rezra bore amkam sodanch podd’tai chirnge” (We are beggars no doubt, good at prayers too but we always receive a ‘mug’ as alms). His son was taught the violin by Fr. Albano D’Souza (then on the staff at Socorro church). The boy earned a bit by playing the violin and later got a job as a tarvotti (seafarer) and did pretty well for himself; people began to refer to him as Accionista (Commune shareholder). He’s one enterprising gentleman who well and truly bid a firm farewell to alms!

Nonetheless, in Saligao no beggar was ever turned away.  They were matter-of-factly treated as distressed members of society who were deserving of our compassion.

Our forefathers in the villages of Goa lived for the day, occupying themselves mainly with fishing and farming. Not having any water bodies of significance during the last couple of centuries, the village of Saligao was not witness to much fishing activity. However, fishing was a significant occupation for the . . . → Read More: Of Fisherfolk and Farmers]]> by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas

Our forefathers in the villages of Goa lived for the day, occupying themselves mainly with fishing and farming. Not having any water bodies of significance during the last couple of centuries, the village of Saligao was not witness to much fishing activity. However, fishing was a significant occupation for the neighbouring villages of Calangute and Sirula, and it was from these villages that Saligao obtained its fish. We had salt-water fish from Calangute and fresh-water fish from Salvador do Mundo and Britona. At times we went to Pilerne during the rainy season to fish with makeshift fishing rods and bait; it was an exhilirating experience for us youngsters.

Like other Goans, Saligaokars too were agriculturists in the past. They tilled the fields and filled the barns with rice, and later on with sugarcane too. Some possessed private fields of their own, but at the end of the paddy season were required to give some portion of the yield to the Comunidade. The money obtained from the sale of this rice was distributed in cash as zon (dividend) to those ganvkars and zonnkars who were registered that year to receive zon. Nowadays very few register their names with the Comunidade to collect the yearly dividend. It would be interesting to know the latest list of zonnkars from Saligao who collect zon.

Xitt Koddi Dav

In Saligao, besides paddy and sugarcane, the villagers grew sweet potatoes, maize, vegetables, onions, chillies and ginger. Some nurtured mango and coconut sapplings. Others grew tamarind and moxing as well as ananas, toronja and rozanvle trees along with curry pat’ta. So the villagers had ample paddy for rice and coconut and other ingredients for the curry. In some households there was also dhal or dav. Hence the song “Ami Goenkar bhav, xitt, koddi, dav…”!

As my friend Domnic Peter Francis Fernandes from Anjuna and one-time student of the famous Monte de Guirim school, says, “In those simple, waste-free and need-based days, the only shortage was that of fish; and that the farmer got that from the fisherman. Thus the farmer and fisherman bartered grains and fish and helped each other to survive. Their exchange was not business-oriented. This is how ‘fish curry rice’ came to be Goa’s staple food. Since Goans were primarily farmers, they also owned cattle, goats and fowl. This is how our ancestors lived off the land in the past and brought up their children through hard work and toil.”

Education and Culture

Formal education arrived in Saligao in the 18^th century, if not before. A good number of boys from Saligao studied at the Chorao and Rachol seminaries and several of them later opened schools in the village. It was a great blessing. They realised the value of education and consequently saw that it was key to their future. Thus the desire to study only increased by the day. Incidentally this year, 2010, Rachol Seminary is celebrating the 400th anniversary of its foundation, on November 1^st.

Even if our ancestors focused mainly on farming and fishing, they also took a special interest in cooking and food. Due to their expertise, several were employed in palaces and this increased their status. Similarly, Saligaokars were good at music. In those days, the kings and rulers in India invited dancers to perform at their palaces, and they needed musicians too. Here again our villagers obliged and filled up the vacancies. Gradually these hobbies turned into their professions, and became means of sustenance for their families. Thus, our ancestors established themselves as expert cooks, butlers and musicians.

The hard-earned money was put to good use in the education of the children, who, over time, became high-ranking officers, priests and bishops, doctors and other professionals, and occupied top positions in society. We should never forget that all this was made possible by the farmer, the fisherman, cook, butler and musician.

Our ancestors went out of their way, sacrificed everything for us, and provided us with a good education. This made us what we are today. We must recognise the hardships our forefathers went through and salute them. When they realised that they couldn’t do much for their families with the meager salaries they earned in Saligao, they left for foreign shores. There, they excelled in their professions and were able to provide a better life for their families in their native village.

Progress

During the same period, the world itself underwent rapid changes. People saw airplanes in the skies. Man created history by setting foot on the moon in 1969. Back in our village, news of this historic event was met with disbelief and then followed with awe. Even C Alvares’ immortal verses like Chani Mama kekem dita… began to lose meaning. The march of science was inexorable, bringing about improvements that eventually reached Saligao too.

Until the late sixties, there were neither tarred roads nor electricity in Saligao. The exception was the road that went from Peggie’s Corner to the Calangute seashore. Suddenly, in the early seventies, mud paths in the village were replaced by tarred roads. We noticed all kinds of vehicles running smoothly on them. Homes received electricity. With that the Petromax and kerosene lamps, which had been our night vision, were gradually confined to a corner or thrown away. Water began to gush through pipes into our kitchens. All of this happened so quickly that we hardly realised the magnitude and seriousness of the changes. The world kept moving ahead at a very fast pace and our tiny society too fell in line behind.

Of course things have changed much today and the world order now is vastly different. The present era belongs to technology, and the whole world depends on it now. Soft-spoken Herman Carneiro, son of Jules Carneiro (Navelim) and Hilda Pinto Carneiro (Cotula, Saligao), set up Goanet in 1994 when he was just 17, providing a way for Goans in Goa and around the world to interact with each other and share their views and experiences through the Internet. And Frederick Noronha, from Sonarbhatt in Saligao, an independent journalist and publisher, and very active in cyberspace, supported Herman Carneiro and Goanet, and also started SaligaoNet, building community and social capital for more than a decade. Tanch Fudde Mar.

During my last two years in high school, I had a new friend – Gerry Lopes.

Gerry had done all his early schooling at the Portuguese Liceum College in Go’s capital Panjim until his dad, Aquino Lopes, decided to move him to the English medium. As a result, Gerry was enrolled in . . . → Read More: Blending compassion with toughness]]> by Mel D’Souza

During my last two years in high school, I had a new friend – Gerry Lopes.

Gerry had done all his early schooling at the Portuguese Liceum College in Go’s capital Panjim until his dad, Aquino Lopes, decided to move him to the English medium. As a result, Gerry was enrolled in Mater Dei Institution in Saligao, and was assigned a seat in class next to me. Since Gerry was not very fluent in English, it was felt that I could help him under the buddy system.

During our school holidays, we would have sleep-ins at our respective homes. When Gerry slept over at my place, it wasn’t that much fun because my home was very small; small rooms, floor of dried cow dung, and nothing to amuse us other than our mutual interest in whittling models of airplanes and sailing ships. However, sleeping over at Gerry’s was a great experience for several reasons.

Gerry lived in a large house with a large sala (living room), tiled floors, spacious bedrooms, and all the other comforts of an old-style Portuguese home. He had two charming sisters, Gloria and Amanda (the latter just about my age), and wonderful parents.

The house of Aquino Lopes in Saligao, Goa

His mother was a very gentle, soft-spoken lady with an angelic smile. His dad was an outgoing individual, who did everything unhurriedly and with great confidence. He was short in stature, and always had a smile on his face. But under that genial exterior was a man of steel who blended his toughness with great compassion.

During the day, Gerry and I would spend most of our time whittling models of airplanes and sailing ships which we would then paint and mount on stands.

In the evening, Gerry’s dad would gather us around the piano that was in a study across from the sala, and he would then get us to sing along as he played the piano. Sometimes he’d wince as he sang – or hit a wrong note – uncharacteristic of a person who otherwise played the piano flawlessly. When I commented about this to Gerry many years later, I was told that his father had a serious stomach ailment that would bring on spasms of great pain, but he wouldn’t tell anyone about it. His way of coping with the pain was to get his family around the piano and have a rousing sing-along. Mr. Lopes eventually succumbed to his ailment. 

Before retiring in Saligao, Aquino Lopes lived in Pemba, the island north of Zanzibar on the East African coast. His pet was a full-grown wild boar, and he once showed me a photograph of himself in a striped sports jacket and cream-coloured slacks, kneeling next to the animal with his arm over its shoulder.

Soft heart

Despite that macho image, Mr Lopes had a very soft heart. I remember the first time I saw him take his daily stroll with a two-year-old neighbour along the bund (raised causeway) that ran through paddy fields to the Mae de Deus Church. The little boy wore only a tattered vest that came down to his buttocks, his legs covered in dust, and his right hand in the clasp of Mr. Lopes’ left hand. The picture didn’t seem right; a neatly dressed gentleman with a scruffy urchin!

When Mr. Lopes came home, I asked him why he strolled with that kid every evening. His reply: “Mel, I don’t know what that boy will be like when he grows up. If he turns out to be good, I will have a good neighbour. But if he turns out to be evil, he will remember the days I held his hand, and will, hopefully, not harm me.” He then added a word of advice: “Remember,” he said, “It costs nothing to offer somebody your hand.”

Prankster

Aquino Lopes was also a practical joker in his teens.  He once told me about a prank he played on a neighbour, an elderly woman who pretended to have had a good schooling although she was in fact illiterate. At church, she would pull out a prayer book with illustrations of various stages of the mass facing pages of prayers and responses that would be read at a particular stage. She’d flip a page of the prayer book, and when the scene at the altar matched the illustration, she would twitch her lips and pretend to read the text so as to impress those around her.

Well, one Saturday, young Aquino decided to let the cat out of the bag. He sneaked into her home and set the stage for the joke that was to be played out the next day. 

Come Sunday morning, the old lady sat in her usual prominent spot in church, waiting for the mass to begin. When the priest came up to the altar, she glanced at the women sitting next to her to draw their attention. She then reached into her purse, pulled out her prayer book and held it open in front of her. But there were no illustrations. Instead, folded to the exact shape of the prayer book, was a chapati (unleavened bread). The lady was so embarrassed that she never used her prayer book again. From then on, she went back to the ubiquitous rosary.

Shortly after this prank, Aquino was nearly killed by lightning. He was walking to a friend’s place along a palm-fringed causeway through open paddy fields when lightning struck a nearby coconut tree. The shock knocked him off his feet into a pool of water where he lay on his back stunned for a few minutes. When he came round, he was so scared that he ran as fast as he could to his friend’s home. When he got there, soaked to his skin, he discovered that he was missing some of his precious pocket money. He turned around and ran back in the raging thunderstorm to the site of the lightning strike and recovered every missing coin.

Feast dance

Another story that Gerry’s dad Aquino told me was of the only time he threw a punch in anger. It all started when Aquino decided to host the Mae de Deus Feast’s gala dance at his spacious home, and booked Goa’s finest dance band, Johnson and His Jolly Boys.

This upset a well-known local dance promoter, a bachelor named Vincent de Souza, who had earned himself the nickname “dans addi” (bringer of dances) and who began to spread falsehoods about the upcoming gala dance. But it wasn’t long before Aquino struck a blow, literally, putting an end to the rumours.

One Friday, around noon, when the bar in the neigbouring town of Mapuca was crowded with retirees (who had dropped in for a beer after cashing their pension cheques at the nearby Banco Naçional), Aquino Lopes walked up slowly to the table where Vincent was seated. The bar room went silent. Then, in a voice that was clearly heard across the room, he asked Vincent to repeat the lies he had been telling the villagers about the gala dance. The unconvincing denial that was met with snickers from the patrons is all that Aquino wanted to hear. “I threw a punch,” he said, “that sent Vincent sprawling across the floor. I then signaled the barman to bring Vincent a beer on my account, and I walked out of the bar.”  

As I said earlier, although Aquino Lopes was small in stature, he stood tall, and was a man who combined immense toughness with immense compassion!

Many Christians dream of making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land someday. For some the dream actually becomes a reality. My school companion and friend Salvador Isidoro Mascarenhas from Mollebhatt, counts himself among those fortunate ones, when, about a year ago in April 2009, he, along with another couple from Saligao (Epifanio . . . → Read More: Saligao in the Holy Land]]> by Fr. Nascimento Mascarenhas

Many Christians dream of making a pilgrimage to the Holy Land someday. For some the dream actually becomes a reality. My school companion and friend Salvador Isidoro Mascarenhas from Mollebhatt, counts himself among those fortunate ones, when, about a year ago in April 2009, he, along with another couple from Saligao (Epifanio and Perpetua Fernandes from Tabravaddo/Bairro Alto) and twenty other Goans flew to Israel for a pilgrimage tour of the Holy Land.        

A few days before the pilgrimage, Salvador paid me a visit at the Holy Spirit Church in Margao. During the conversation I reminded him that Marie Dantas and her husband from Saligao/UK had placed a marble plaque, with the Our Father inscribed on it Konkani, in the Church of the Pater Noster (also called Church of Eleona – Mount of Olives, in Greek),  which Queen Helena, mother of the Roman Emperor Constantine, built in the fourth century.

I suggested to Salvador that a picture of the Saligao Church with the image of Mae de Deus could be installed in one of the churches in the Holy Land after obtaining the requisite permission. He took up my suggestion, and with the help of their tourist guide Antonio, the group was introduced to the Capuchin Friar at the Basilica of Our Lady of the Annunciation in Nazareth. The Friar agreed to keep the framed picture of the Mae de Deus Church in the Basilica. Goans visiting this church in future will be able to see the picture and remember Goa and Saligao.    

On his return, Salvador visited me again and handed me a copy of the picture he had given to the Capuchin Friar in Nazareth, along with a photo of the group and a crucifix, as a remembrance of his pilgrimage.

Salvador Isidoro Mascarenhas worked as sacristan of St Anne’s Chapel in Saligao even while he was still a schoolboy a boy at school. He has fond memories of this chapel, its activities, and especially the chaplains – Fr. Paulo Arcanjo de Menezes and Fr. Inacio Lourenco Pereira (both Portuguese priests) and a host of other ward priests such as Monsenhor Valentim Chagas Fernandes (Mudd’davaddi); Fr. Faustino de Sousa (Anjuna/Mudd’davaddi); Fr. Jose Remedios (Vice-Rector of Daman Seminary);  Fr. Naziazeno (Victor) dos Remedios (Tabravaddo); the twin-brother priests Monsenhor Cosme and Fr. Tome Cordeiro from Mollebhatt; and, Fr. Manuel Lobo and Fr. Francis Sequeira, s.f.x (Fr. Fanchy, twice Superior General of the Society of Pilar) from Donvaddo. 

Salvador remembers that the salary he earned as sacristan was a mere Rs. 5/- per month, which was later increased to Rs. 7/- . He remembers the other sacristans of St. Anne, such as Bit’ta Titiv, Paulo Mascarenhas, both from Tabravaddo; Hipolito D’Silva, Napoleao Fernandes, and the Fernandes (Fogo) brothers, all from Mudd’davaddi. He also told me that Patru Vaz from Donvaddo did serve as sacristan for St Anne’s in the forties.

Salvador joined the Indian Navy in 1962 at INS Gomantak in Vasco da Gama. He served in the war with Pakistan in 1965, off Karachi (INS Ranjit), and in 1971 in Chittagong, East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) on the aircraft carrier INS Vikrant. He worked for 15 years with  the Indian Navy.

Salvador Isidoro Mascarenhas is the son of Bartolomeu Liberato Mascarenhas (Salvador do Mundo) and Maria Hortencia Pinto e Mascarenhas (Saligao). The couple had three children  Serafina Pascoela, Salvador Isidoro and Mary Magdalena. They lived in Mudd’davaddi, near Mannichem Bhett after their marriage. Salvador studied at the Mater Dei Institution up to Class VII, and completed the rest of his studies at Don Bosco High School in Panjim.

He married Rodilfina Casmira (Mira) Viegas (from Utorda, Salcete) and has four children:  Michelle, Jeniffer, Adolph Eusiberito and Hansen Roque. In 1974 he shifted from Mudd’davaddi to Mollebhatt. Salvador has made a number of models of the Mae de Deus Church in Saligao. He carves them himself, by hand, without the use of any machinery. He  made 15 models, which he exhibited in the past. By May 2010 he would have carved another two dozen and will hold an exhibition again. 

Salvador spends his free time making these models, and also collecting data for Saligao Serenade, as he has a deep interest in the history and affairs of the village. He is a silent worker and friendly person; his captivating smile reveals his love for Saligao and the people around him. Floreat!

 “Baba” was a universal term of affection used in Goa to address a little boy or an adult male who was in good standing in the community. The term would also be used, somewhat grudgingly, when addressing the odd individual who was an embarrassment to his family, but whose misdeeds were not . . . → Read More: Our family’s “Baba” Black Sheep]]> by Mel D’Souza

 “Baba” was a universal term of affection used in Goa to address a little boy or an adult male who was in good standing in the community. The term would also be used, somewhat grudgingly, when addressing the odd individual who was an embarrassment to his family, but whose misdeeds were not serious enough for him to be thrown out of the house. I suppose he could be called the ‘baba’ black sheep of the family.

Black sheep were few and far between, but we had one in our family. He was my granduncle and his name was Galdinho D’Souza.

Galdinho was the brother of my paternal grandmother. He was born and raised in our village of Saligao, before moving to East Africa after World War I, as many Goans did, in search of employment in the British colonies. But although it was virtually impossible for a Goan not to find employment almost anywhere in Tanganyika, Kenya and Uganda at that time, Galdinho never held a job. He spent most of his time fishing, visiting the Goan Institute clubhouse in Dar es Salaam, and freeloading off his friends and relatives.

Galdinho’s sole possessions were a few items of casual clothing, a white suit, an old bicycle, and a bamboo fishing rod. When I was a young boy during World War II (the fighting did not come to East Africa), Galdinho would visit us once a month, on dad’s payday, and then treat me to jugu (roasted peanuts) or an ice cream at Pandya’s. Naturally, I considered myself lucky to have such a generous granduncle, not knowing that he was treating me all along with my dad’s money!

In the afternoon on weekends – or weekdays, if the tides were right – Galdinho would be seen on his bicycle, his fishing rod over his left shoulder like a radio antenna, heading for Kinondoni Beach where he would fish in the surf for the silvery “lady fish”. On his way home, he’d give the fish to his friends who, I’m sure, gave him a few shillings in return.

Galdinho was present at every wedding, funeral, and dance wearing his ubiquitous white suit. And, at the Goan Institute, he’d never be seen without a beer in hand although he was never known to buy a drink at the bar. I’m sure he never said “No” to any Goan club members who would have greeted his entrance into the bar with the traditional “Hello Galdinho, have a drink?”

When I went to Goa in 1947 to continue my schooling in the village of Saligao, my grandmother told me that Galdinho was a notorious prankster in his teens, and kept getting into all kinds of trouble. The most audacious prank, she said, was when he climbed unassisted to the top of the steeple of the Mae de Deus church (the only old church in Goa with a steeple) – something that was never done before, and never accomplished since. Apparently, he placed his feet in a loop of coir rope for traction, with another rope around the steeple in a garrote-like grip, and scaled the steeple as would a coconut-tree climber.

When I returned to Dar es Salaam after graduating from high school, it never occurred to me to ask Galdinho for details of this episode. He died a few years later and I didn’t bother to pursue the story any further.

However, it was only recently that I was able to learn more about Galdinho when I met with Lena Remedios-Nunes in Toronto, Canada. Lena not only confirmed that Galdinho had indeed climbed the church steeple, but went on to tell me the story behind the episode.

It so happened that when Galdinho was a teenager in school, he fell madly in love with a schoolgirl named Rosalinda Raymond, from the village of Siolim. Rosalinda was a very pretty girl whose affluent parents had enrolled her in St. Mary’s School in Saligao. Apparently, she didn’t seem to care for Galdinho, and perhaps didn’t even know of his crush on her. On the other hand, Galdinho’s infatuation with Rosalinda was so intense that he used every opportunity to try to gain her attention, evidently without much success. To add to his frustration, his friends would taunt him about the futility of his pursuit saying that Rosalinda considered him a ‘sissy’. One day they suggested that if he really wanted to impress Rosalinda and win her heart, he should perform a spectacular feat that would prove to her that he was the bravest and worthiest of all the boys in the village. And this he did by scaling the church steeple and placing a piece of his clothing on the crucifix as proof that it was he who accomplished a feat that is now part of Saligao legend.

Lena also told me about a romantic ballad – a mando – that Galdinho had written for Rosalinda. Lena recalled all the four verses and sang them for me as I recorded the poignant lyrics on tape.

The sad ending to this story is that Galdinho never won Rosalinda’s heart. Could it be that the impact of his shattered love was so devastating that he never married?

The revelations about my granduncle, Galdinho, make me wonder how many other notable black sheep of the past harboured secrets which, if made public, would make us look upon them sympathetically as romantics instead of rakes.