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>In a certain generation not too long ago, if you said Dhobitalao, you meant
>Little Goa.
>>>
>>>In Toronto, Canada where I live, there is little Italy, little Greece,
>>>little Portugal, little India and even, just outside of Toronto, an entire
>>>suburb (officially called Brampton) known as Khalistan, where all the
>>>Sardars live.
>>>Brampton used to be a farming area populated by whites, until the Sardars
>>>moved in. Now it is a place which abounds in Punjabi samosas, sarson-ka-saag
>>>and 'lawyers' who 'help' you with settling personal injury car accident
>>>claims. But you will not find any little Goa.
>>>
>>>Now, to get back to Dhobitalao.
>>>
>>>That area of Bombay was home to a large dhobi migrant community from UP that
>>>worked from a pond that was originally built by the Parsis to supply
>>>their Agiaries. Over time, as the water got stagnated, they turned it over
>>>to the dhobis who needed exactly such a spot to base their trade in the
>>>city. Eventually, the pond was cemented over and the Parsis built
>>>residential buildings which they gave over as rentals to newcomers in Bombay.
>>>
>>>It was exactly in such a condition that the first Goans started moving in.
>>>Soon the area was overflowing with Goan migrants who chose to live together,
>>>God knows why, given the crab mentality for which the community is famed.
>>>Not only did they live in harmony, but also in relative peace, although a
>>>typical large family of seven or eight lived in one room no bigger than 300
>>>to 500 sq feet.
>>>
>>>In that space they hatched, matched and were dispatched.
>>>
>>>Dhobitalao, as I knew it, was Goan enough to be known to the rest of Bombay
>>>and even outside and the Middle East, as the Goan hub outside Goa. Among
>>>well known features of the area were oasis of large rooms of about 1,500 sq
>>>feet or more in very old dilapidated buildings that became the homes of Goan
>>>Village Clubs about which much has been written. What I will add is,
>>>that the living conditions there were absolutely pathetic. But then, living
>>>in Portuguese Goa of the time was equally so, despite the large village
>>>spaces.
>>>
>>>If this description has put in your mind a decrepit neighborhood you would
>>>not be entirely wrong, but I have not yet made a reference to the vibrancy
>>>of the place. Dhobitalao was the Bronx of the 1930s. People hung out their
>>>washed clothing to dry and sat on their building terraces. The terraces
>>>were the community arenas where every social celebration took place. A
>>>birthday, a dance and even movie shows. Everyone was invited, both from the
>>>building and everywhere else. Prohibition was in force and Aunty's famous
>>>rotgut was served.
>>>
>>>On one occasion, while learning German from a Saligao resident of Indra
>>>Bhuvan , I was called to watch a movie on the terrace. The boys running the
>>>projector sat precariously with their equipment on a small patch on the
>>>roof, the white painted wall was the screen and the bar was lined along one
>>>side.
>>>
>>>There were all kinds of home cooked snacks on a table and everybody sat
>>>hunched on the floor in the dark of an 8 pm evening. I don't remember the
>>>name of the movie, but it was smuggled in by the Goan usher of the nearby
>>>Metro cinema. There
>>>was dancing after the movie but by then I had left as I had a long hike
>>>back home to Byculla.
>>>
>>>Dhobitalao's Main Street extended from the Sonapur Church (Dolours) to
>>>Crawford market, a distance of about 1 km. Along the way were butcher shops
>>>selling fresh pork, and the famous C D'Souza's and Vienna restaurants which
>>>were frequented by lonely sailors between trips.
>>>
>>>They served excellent Goan-Bombay fusion food at ridiculously low prices. In
>>>1965, you could get a plate of sorpotel, a loaf of bread and Crumb Chops
>>>(pork chops fried with batter and bread crumbs) followed by a plate of rice
>>>with fish curry and a fried mackerel on the side. It was excellent value.
>>>
>>> On Dhobitalao streets, other restaurants abounded. Along Main Street were
>>>also a couple of wax candle shops. Thinking about it now, I
>>> wonder what kept them in business. Perhaps it was the yearly fairs at which
>>>body parts made of wax were sold. Main Street was the show-piece of
>>>Dhobitalao. Other side streets were not so clean nor as spacious.
>>>
>>>There were the Wellington Terraces, a group of four buildings within a rough
>>>stony compound that was a village all by itself. Everybody in Dhobitalao had
>>>a relative or villager in Wellington. Outside Wellington were all sorts of
>>>trades-people - tailors, darners, cobblers and others. All were excellent
>>>craftsmen and I remember my dad taking me to a
>>>cobbler there to custom make my leather shoes even though we lived in
>>>Byculla. Perhaps part of the reason might have been the opportunity to visit
>>>one of his friends where a glass of hooch was assured.
>>>
>>>Within Dhobitalao on the southern and eastern ends, were the Irani
>>>restaurants about which the Canadian-Goan writer Marcos Catao has recently
>>>written. Two of them were Sassanian and Bastani. They made the best bread
>>>puddings and the most flaky and light meat patties that melted on your
>>>tongue. The pani-kum chai was a great chaser to these snacks.
>>>
>>>A little beyond Bastanis was the standing place of the 'Dhobitalao
>>>Bandsters'. These were not band members but individual musicians who waited
>>>to be hired for any wedding or other occasion. They were not a cohesive unit
>>>and may never have played with the others, but once they were selected,
>>>without practice, they performed as if they were an accomplished orchestra.
>>>
>>>That is a great thing about Goans. They make awesome musicians. Partly in
>>>the genes and partly due to their village choir-master training, playing is
>>>across the spectrum. In all the great Bombay swing bands of the sixties and
>>>seventies, like Micky Correia, Johnny Baptist, Maurice Concessio, Goody
>>>Seervai, Nelly, Ken Mac and Hal Green, the majority of the musicians were
>>>Goans. Nowhere could this be seen better than in Dhobitalao.
>>>
>>> A walk down the street of any neighborhood, especially after sunset, would
>>>produce harmonious wafting sounds of lilting Portuguese marches and
>>>sambas, tangos, classical mandos, and even Louisana blues and Hollywood
>>>music scores. It was truly a music fest per gratis.
>>>
>>>At the heart of Dhobitalao was the Sonapur (or officially, Dolours) Church.
>>>Women with sleeveless dresses were sent away from the Communion railing
>>>without the host and the ones without veils or scarves on their heads were
>>>publicly berated. Khomeini must have learnt his state-craft from the Sonapur
>>>priests.
>>>
>>>But these same priests did not bother the men folk. These they considered
>>>to be without redemption. As soon as the priest stepped to the pulpit to
>>>start the preaching, the men made off to C. D'Souza's next door for coffee
>>>and cigarettes. What they didn't hear, they didn't care about.
>>>
>>>The vicar even attempted to put a loudspeaker inside C D'Souza's so as to
>>>disturb all conversation there during sermon time, but that only resulted in
>>>coffee-talk rising many decibels higher. Eventually their volumes outdid the
>>>loudspeaker, permeated the church and disturbed the semonizing priest
>>>himself. The vicar conceded defeat and removed the loudspeaker.
>>>
>>>Religious feast processions winding through the streets of Dhobitalao
>>>were very unruly. There would be a massive crowd of people setting out from
>>>the church but as each Aunty's speakeasy was passed along the way, the
>>>numbers of men would get less and less until at the door of the church on
>>>returning, the only males in the procession were either below fifteen
>>>or those banned from their favorite Aunty's bars due to non-payment or the
>>>very frail who wanted nothing but peace with their God whom they were due to
>>>meet soon.
>>>
>>>The boys and girls of Dhobitalao were indoctrinated in the value of
>>>education by their parents, whether they went to the nearby Jesuit school of
>>>St Xavier's or to Little Flower, St Sebastian, St Thresa's or Dolours. They
>>>might have had no place to study except under the dim lights of the
>>>passageways or during late nights with their parents' snores for company,
>>>but they learned their lessons well. Here in Toronto, there are many of
>>>those once-Dhobitalao-youngsters. They are 'solid buggers' now and their
>>>children go for the best higher education there is in Canada.
>>>
>>>When my children were young kids growing up in Canada, we told them to
>>>eat their vegetables and not leave them. My wife used to tell them, "Think
>>>of the starving children in India and finish the dinner." And now they
>>>tell their children, "Finish your homework. Think of the children in India
>>>who would make you starve if you don't!"
>>>Author unknown
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