GOAN NAMES By Valmiki Faleiro Heard of a famous contemporary Goan named Filipe Antonio Sebastiao do Rosario Ferrao? Or Shivaji da Silveira Faleiro? Or Ubaldo Antonio Delton Arquimedes Alemao? (I’ve omitted one giveaway name in each case.) Do I hear you ask, “Filipe, Shivaji, Ubaldo, who?” Suffix ‘Neri’ to ‘Filipe’ and you have Goa’s Archbishop. Prefix ‘Shivaji’ with ‘Eduardo’ – he’s the first Goan in history to serve as minister in India’s Union government. Add a first name in the third example and you have Goa’s current best money machine: Churchill Alemao! Long, litany like, names, were common with Goan Catholics in bygone times. Perhaps inspired, in the case of women, by Mother Mary: her Loreto Litany runs into 51 names. ‘Maria’ is arguably the most common name. In the case of men, inspiration must have come from the galaxy of saints – from Antonio, the Portuguese national saint, to Xavier, Goa’s patron saint. I didn’t have to look afar to understand this marvel of long names… I am a great-grandson of Maria Lucia Prisca Eulalia Estefania Mesquita e Noronha. Hailing from Consua of Cortalim, she was married to Cosme Damiao de Noronha of Carona, Aldona. Their daughter, my grandmother, was Maximiana Romelina Quiteria Clotildes Isabel Filomena Santana Salvacao dos Martires Noronha e Sa. Her daughter (my mother) is Maria Olga Augusta Joaquina Teresa de Jesus da Sa e Faleiro. It doesn’t end there. Estefania and Cosme Damiao had eight girls. The first was Epifania Paula Claudiana de Noronha. Then came Maria Henriqueta Purificacao Auta Hedviges de Noronha. Next was my grandmother, with the longest name in the brood. After her came Exiquiela Leovegilda Agripinia Conceicao das Dores Alleluia de Noronha, then Ursula Maria Aninha Rita Robertina Deodita de Noronha, followed by Ida Isabel Veronica Ana Paula do Rosario Santa Rita Basta de Noronha. Note that Santa Rita is the patroness of Carona and ‘Basta’ in Portuguese is “enough.” Despite the appeal to the patroness, two more girls were born. These were named Maria Jesuina Joaosita Paulina Bernadete de Noronha, and the last, Quiteria Carmela da Piedade de Noronha. The last had the shortest name. The parents by then must have been exhausted of ferreting out names! Yet… Forty-five names, not counting the prepositions … an average of six names per child, covering almost the entire alphabet from A to Z. It must have been difficult to keep track of the names already given, so we find ‘Isabel,’ ‘Paula’ and ‘Quiteria’ featuring twice – and ‘Maria’ occurring thrice. There’s another angle. The second oldest, Henriqueta, married Francisco Xavier Santana Joaquim Roque Necessidade do Rosario Rego of Verna, had seven children, named in alphabetical order … Alvito, Berta, Cosme, Diogenes, Elvira, Francisco and Genoveva. The second youngest, Joaosita, married Manuel Joaquim Roque Valladares of Margao, also had seven children, the “7Rs”: Raul, Rui, Rita, Ruth, Remo, Rolanda and Rene. Goan Catholics generally took the surname from the priest who baptized the first family ancestor. Given names were conventionally after saints. The phenomenon of long names, I think, owed its roots to a harsh reality of the times. Childbirth was perilous those days – both for the mother and the new born, often still born. There was no surgery or anesthesia, no Caesarians or blood banks, no antibiotics, and not a shadow of today’s quick-fix allopathic medicines. Gynaecology, as a medical speciality, did not exist. Deliveries were conducted by the village midwifes, trained only by experience. Hardly surprising that to-be-parents armed themselves with all kinds of vows, to several forms of divine intercession through an assortment of saints. For a safe passage from womb to world, each successive saint was assured that his or her name would also be given to the newborn. There evidently was an abundance of free counsel floating in the village. Of people who testified to the efficacy of prayer to a particular saint. Perplexed would-be parents played safe, made multiple vows, regardless of the length of the litany of names every vow would contribute to, when the child was baptized. Times were different. There also were enough government clerks with insufficient work, to write in longhand such long names, with plumes dipped in ink every few words. There also were no pro-formats with just three spaces for name, father’s name and surname. But then, we change with the times, don’t we? PS: Goa has six ‘Valmikis’ per the local phone directory. Reader response, however, indicates many more Valmikis, most – again – Catholics. Like Valmiki and Rishi Mascarenhas, both engineers, from Sarzora-Salcete. And Valmiki Xavier, uncle of Constantino, of the Department of Political Studies, Portuguese Institute of International Relations, Lisbon. Great going, Valmikis! (ENDS.) The Valmiki Faleiro weekly column at: http://www.goanet.org/index.php?name=News&file=article&sid=330 ============================================================================== The above article appeared in the December 21, 2008 edition of the Herald, Goa
