By Frederick Noronha fredericknoron...@gmail.com It was the mid-to-late 1970s. We were in high school. We would encounter children coming back from goodness knew where, speaking a language we couldn't understand, and markedly different from us.
One of those boys was in my class, and Reginaldo got nicknamed "Mozambique". Another set of three kids, a bit younger, would attend piano classes at Ms. Margaret's. They mostly struggled with the English language, till catching up later, and were noticeably quiet or shy. Only years later, we learnt about the history of Mozambique, its tumultuous times in the 1970s (and beyond), and the Goan community there. Last week, one got to read finally a book that brought many missing pieces of the jigsaw closer together. Things suddenly began to make more sense. * * * Carolina Costa's 136-page book is deceptively called 'From Goa to Goa'. Actually, the story is about Mozambique, Portugal, a tiny bit about the next generation in Britain... and Goa too. Many Goan diaspora stories begin (or end) or both, in Goa itself. This one falls in the latter category. It starts on a dramatic note. Graça Costa, a Math teacher in Portugal and the younger sister of the author, hands over to the latter a brown pouch, which she had carried over to London. In it, is a big leather-bound exercise book with a hard, red cover, looking "old and solemn". Costa's father had started writing the book in 1963, with the intention of compiling the family story over the years. He had expected his eldest child to continue that story. In 2018, the UK-based Carolina, a lawyer and social-care worker in the UK, undertook the task. She not only fit together pieces of the mystery but also got in touch with others back in Goa, her late father's friend in Canada, writings on the Net. She also collated images and photos that give an insight into the life and times of the previous generation of our parents. In the meanwhile, her dad had fallen sick with Parkinson's, at a rather early age, and despite being very athletic. He had returned to Goa, and died nearly two decades earlier. The rest of the family stayed on in Lisbon facing the challenges of managing there. * * * Its author says: "I haven't written anything before other than stuff related to work [though] for me, writing is easier that speaking. When I started writing the book, I had in mind family and friends as my audience...." But, while doing so, Costa actually covered a lot of ground. Her father Domingos Francisco da Costa, also known as Quintin, was one of the tens of thousands or lakhs of Goans who migrated out of here. He "did nothing important that was written in any history books" (p.10), but did everything for others and asked for very little in return, as his daughter writes. The story is filled with pathos; someone called it "heart-wrenching". Quintin Costa left for Mozambique in 1957. His generation lived through 1947, 1961 and 1974 (the end of the Portuguese dictatorship). For the first time perhaps -- for sure in English -- this book tells the story of the Mozambique Goans, an otherwise invisibilised lot. Her depicting of life in Mozambique, the dramatic changes there in the mid-1970s (from the perspective of the Goan community), the travails of shifting over and coping in Portugal, are eye-openers. At the same time, life in Goa was and is tough for the retiring emigrant, a reality seldom acknowledged. Carolina Costa's depicting of the time around her dad's death is touching. You can feel her emotion in a story written with amazing clarity, with even feelings and moods recalled in ultra close detail. Parents of our generation went through similar times. Comparing notes with what Costa writes, my thoughts go out to the Goan migrant of the mid-20th century in particular. At one point, things were going smooth for them, and they seemed assured of their future. In no time, and in a matter of years, everything changed drastically. This was mostly due to the political changes happening for reasons far beyond their control. Being mostly apolitical, they grappled to understand what was happening in their times. In the book, one encounters descriptions of Saligao (the author's ancestral village), schooldays in pre-1961 Goa, village life here, and the times of the Goan community in Mozambique. There are descriptions of the sea voyages undertaken from Africa to Goa (halting at Aden); the difficulties of Goans diasporic families in accessing healthcare, housing, and jobs; and the deaths and festivities that punctuated family life. What was really an eye-opener was the trying conditions under which the Goans in Mozambique resettled in Lisbon, after the sudden change in the situation in a Lourenco Marques-turned-Maputo. This seldom gets written about in discussions in English, though it would be known to those who lived through those times. Migration has brought material affluence and opportunity to Goa and its people but at quite a price. We don't see a pattern, or quickly forget the past, once the memories lapse. Carolina Costa's narration reminds one of the Goan experiences in Kuwait, Mozambique, and Angola, Uganda, Malawi, East Africa after Africanisation, Myanmar, Karachi, and elsewhere. One can read this book at different levels. It is the story of a family. It is also the story of a community (the Goan diaspora in Mozambique, in particular). Likewise, some of its pages are focussed on Saligao, to which village the Costas trace their roots. (Incidentally, the village has at least seven books written about it already; but there's always space for more it would seem. Among these are books such as Floreat Saligao by C. Hubert de Souza; D'Souza-Da Cruz's Picturesque Saligao; Fr Nascimento Mascarenhas' Land of the Sal Tree; Fr John's English-Konkani two volumes called Saligao Visorxeat; Clarice Vaz's coffee-table book; and Mel D'Souza's Fish, Feni and Firecrackers which is not about the village alone but contains a lot centered on it. A copy of Costa's work has been gifted to the Central Library too.) In short, this book touches on the story of Goa, migration, Goans in Mozambique, the reality of the 20th century and its tough times in the decolonisation process, etc. More personal stories can paint a more complete understanding of our collective past. It helps us to understand ourselves. Probably Quintin Costa would have never even remotely imagined where his keeping a modest record of his family life would end.... Or, maybe it's not even an end if this story could inspire others.... Goan team in Mozambique from the yesteryears. Courtesy cyberspace. Source not clear. https://www.flickr.com/photos/fn-goa/51494939940/in/datetaken/ https://www.flickr.com/photos/fn-goa/51493216602/in/datetaken/ First published in The Navhind Times. PS: If you are a Goan with a Mozambique connect, do consider joining a WhatsApp group by connecting with +966 50 209 6195 *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- Join a discussion on Goa-related issues by posting your comments on this or other issues via email to goa...@goanet.org See archives at http://lists.goanet.org/pipermail/goanet-goanet.org/ *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-