...A "Colonial Exposition in Oporto", Portugal, was scheduled in 1934, and obviously a representative delegation from each colony was being selected to attend. It would seem natural to include in the delegation a cross section of the population. Together with members of the intelligentsia, writers, journalists, doctors, priests, outstanding business leaders, the Goan committee organizing this delegation, together with photographs, and facsimiles of houses, temples, and churches of Goa, thought that it would be fitting to send Devadassis ( temple dancers, who within the Hindu religion officiate also as prostitutes), and the Murdangueiro, that is, the typical musician of a Hindu temple.

The Governor Craveiro Lopes fumed at the idea and asked the committee to "eliminate these messengers who did not dignify the civilizing work of the Portuguese after centuries..."

The organizers were taken aback: to eliminate the lovely sari-clad Devadasis, a traditional and perennial feature of millennia near the temples of the Hindus of Goa and India was like forbidding "hamburgers" from featuring in the diet of the Americans. They protested, in vain. The Governor declared: " At this juncture, to send devadasis – a social sore – which the proclaimed civilizing mission did not eliminate, is an insult !!"

The Governor Craveiro Lopes had clean forgotten that the mixed marriages that Afonso de Albuquerque had promoted and encouraged in 1510, was precisely with the Turkish women prisoners taken from Adil Khan´s harem, and with the devadasis, as other Goan women of caste would not deign to marry the polluted "firangani". A schism was created, the Goan committee resigned and boycotted the Exposition. The Governor excused himself, confessing: "These are orders from the Prime Minister of Portugal (Salazar), and I execute them: please understand me". As a result the Governor sent to Oporto only one man, the judge Bragança Pereira of the Relaçâo (High Court) who was, of course, an ardent "nacionalista" (pro-Salazar) to represent Portuguese India

This was a real sham, and a shame, inasmuch as Africans from Mozambique and Angola, and natives from Timor, all decked in their traditional dresses, tiger skins and lances, and black women with bare chests, were sent for the Exposition. I really wondered what a warped idea the people of Oporto would have of Portuguese India.

Another big event marked the year for Goa. It was the arrival of an air pilot, Carlos Beck, the first to fly a flimsy monoplane from Lisbon to Goa. Of course it was not like Lindberg, who flew non-stop from the U.S.A. to Paris in 1927. Carlos Beck took four days to reach Goa, I believe, with stopovers at Beirut, and Karachi. Nevertheless it was a feat, as the distance from Lisbon to Goa was much greater, and not even Lindberg could have achieved it in a single lap.

All of us crossed the river Zuari to Mormugao, the big deep water port, and went up the hill to Dabolim, where the "airport" is situated. It was just a small shed, and nearby a pole with a float, showing which way the wind was blowing, and the runway was just a dirt road on a grassy field at the top of the Dabolim hill.

Suddenly we saw a tiny plane buzzing above us, and rasing a great deal of dust, it finally landed. All the people ran towards the minuscule flimsy monoplane, which was taxiing, and suddenly it turned around and taxied towards the masses of people, who made a hasty retreat. The fat Health Delegate of Mormugao, Dr. Arminio Ribeiro Santana, in his excitement, could not control his bladder, and christened the dusty Dabolim airport runway, while people giggled behind his back.

Carlos Beck, with his big goggles and headgear, as the pilots in those times had no cabins to protect them from the winds, stepped down from the plane and was received with an ovation, and honors, while the multitude clapped, and hoorayed. Later he was given a big welcome at the Town Hall in Panjim, where my Father delivered a dithyrambic speech, which was broadcast by speakers, placed around the main plaza in front of the Town Hall. This plaza with its trees and gardens, was the real center of Panjim, with a statue of Vasco da Gama in the middle of the square on top of a tall pillar. Practically all the inhabitants gathered in the plaza, to hear the speech, though they could not be at the ceremony which took place on the second floor, where the whole Government, and important people had gathered, to duly celebrate the event. As a ten-year old, I stood in the midst of people in the plaza, to hear the speech.

The important merchant Caculo, in whose shop my parents had bought a Hercules bicycle for me, wanted very much to experience a ride as passenger in the monoplane; Carlos Beck obliged, and flew with him over Panjim, doing loops. Caculo begged to step off, as he was completely airsick; in fact he not only vomited, but emptied his bowels with the fright. There he was, looking green, and vowing never again to fly an airplane.

I sit in the garden, looking down upon the sea, reconstructing my memories. The satisfaction I feel in recalling them is alternatively like that of a kiss.