We the girls from Carmel
Via the blog of Sonia Gomes
rgso...@gmail.com
http://zorotmorot.blogspot.in
Carmel College, Nuvem, completes fifty years and
this brings to mind those wonderful years we spent
there as a bunch of teenagers.
I would love to dedicate my reminiscences to my beautiful
companions, scattered all over the world. Here is to us:
Antonieta Teles e Noronha, Belinda Rodrigues, Elizabeth
Kovoor, Kirona Furtado, Glynis D'Silva Vashi, Ruffy Rose
D'Costa, Blandina Dias, Laura Reis, Shelley D'Costa, Teresa
Viena Rodrigues, Prabha Naik Raikar Dhume, Frieda.
Our parents sent us to Carmel College for Women with
confidence, a sense of well being and unadulterated glee.
Confidence and the sense of well being were based on the fact
that Carmel College provided quality education in a select
atmosphere and the glee came from the certitude that there
were no boys who could and would cast polluting glances on
their darling daughters.
Never mind that boys could be met anywhere, we knew boys, our
neighbors, but they were not considered dangerous, you see we
knew their parents too. The boys they were afraid of were
those at neighboring colleges. Those were the boys we longed
to meet. But sadly our opinions were not sought nor were
they ever taken into consideration.
Oh yes, Carmel College was a homely place, accommodated in
the Holy Rosary Convent at Nuvem, here we were, masses of
women of all shapes and sizes. There were the nuns of
course, housed in their own wing. We were extremely curious:
What did they do? How did they live? Forgetting that they
were women just like us. At sixteen those finer distinctions
escape you.
The Holy Rosary Convent was a fully operational school, a
much older institution than the college, the school had its
own boarding. The college had its own hostel. How was all
this arranged? It does seem amazing that nothing overlapped;
everything did run so very smoothly. Psst, do not forget even
for a moment they have God on their side....
We were a very small group of girls who entered the First
Year Science, a First Class or even a High Second Class
convinced our parents that we were intelligent indeed. Of
course we too were pretty sure we were and surreptitiously
looked down on those lesser beings, those who studied Arts.
At the beginning of each day, we stood in rows in the Biology
Lab and belted out the Carmel Hymn.
O Carmel fair whose peaks arise
O'er Esdraelon's thrice fruited trees;
Bathe in the blue light of the skies,
And laved forever by the seas,
I love the greenness of thy woods,
The fragrance of thy spiced air,
Thy wine inspired solitudes
Carmel dear! O Carmel Fair!
How good it felt to sing at the top of our voices, a little
childish perhaps but oh so therapeutic. We trooped to our
classes after the bell for the day had been clanged.
The nuns taught us practically all the subjects. I for one
felt terrible when they changed their White habit with a
black veil and that lovely wooden rosary at their waists to
an ordinary sari. They swished in and out of the classrooms
so elegantly in those habits; it gave them a sort of classy
distinction.
As in all aspects of life they varied in their teaching,
there were those who strongly believed in the maxim, 'Spare
the rod, and spoil the Child'. And then there were those,
who believed that we were adults, old enough to study and
lead our own lives.
Sister Josephita belonged to the first lot; she -- the terror
of Mathematics -- is a beautiful lady. Those flashing black
as coal eyes struck such fear in our hearts. She worked
hard; she wanted us to master the subject. Of course there
were some who just loved every equation she taught, but sadly
Antonieta and I wanted other things in life.
Antonieta loved debates, acting in plays, speeches,
I on the other hand was a quiet little mouse, but
we shared a passion. Reading, and more reading,
just about anything that came our way. We
plundered the library, for books. We begged and
borrowed books. All that reading did not leave
much time for Mathematics to the despair of Sister
Josephita, or for that matter Physics, which was
the domain of another Tartar, Sister Linda.
Mention her and I shake like a jelly. They wanted us to do
beautifully, they wanted us to absorb as much as they gave
us. Unfortunately we never realized it then. The calm and
poised gang of Chemistry, Sisters, Odille, Florence Mary and
Margaret Angela had decided long back that they would teach
us, but they would also give us a choice; learn if you want
to, the choice was ours. A wiser decision with much less
stress for us, as well as for them.
Most of us came from the surrounding villages or
Margão, our clothes were those stitched by our
tailor, he came once a year to our homes, we combed
catalogues, we discussed patterns, length of the
hems, buttons, rick-rack, we dressed up neatly,
nothing exotic, although the Panjim crowd did have
a more fashionable wardrobe. But one term, all of
a sudden, a bunch of girls from Africa descended on
Carmel College. Talk of sophistication, they spoke
excellent English, they wore the most fantastic
clothes, they studied well, they were good at
sports, they were something to behold. To us the
gauche village girls they were exotic. On the one
occasion where we could display our clothes and our
dancing skills, The Carmel Ball, they were the stars.
We of course had some sort of revenge on our parents, as the
Science section had so very few girls we went to Chowgule
College for all our exams, which included the Practical
Exams. One of our Africa returned colleague, Shelley
D'Costa, had a WV Beetle, we piled into that and went for
exams. You can imagine the grand entrance we made, nothing
short of a red carpet. For the duration of that week we were
the toast of Chowgule College.
--Antonieta Teles e Noronha and Sonia do Rosario Gomes
