Parabens Fontainhas

Sometimes, we all need time off to be by ourselves. And that’s exactly what I did on my recent trip to the United States – The luxury of a well deserved two month holiday to soak the sun and smell the flowers, to eat when you pleased, to party with no time limits, to shop with no fear of going broke, to introspect on life’s many changes, to not worry about the prices of tomatoes back home, or that I was eating less fish and more red meat, given the quality draught in our markets.

Travel does great things for the soul. It gives you a wider perspective of your own country and how people feel of your home.

More importantly, how you feel about your own home.

If there’s reason to feel glad that I’m back (besides my friends warm welcome back home calls) it has to do with Fontainhas and the great synergy of consciousness, emotion, cultural revival, idealism and fire of making a difference, that makes me glad I’m part of it. In spirit. For long (and this column has been going on for eight years now), I’ve met people from all walks of life. People who come and go, opportunists and pen pushers,

some soon forgotten, the umpteen number of politicians who don’t give a damn about who we are, what we need, where we are going. Indeed, where Goa is going. It was never their problem. Same with the socialites and the column space hoggers (oh yeah, we’ve learnt to survive with them too) who come and go. Some still coming, using Goa like a condom, flushing her down when the need is satiated. They do it with their water scooter projects, their polluting industries, their plans for golf courses when our taps run dry. Rules have a price tag, (but we all that now, don’t we), loyalty can be bought at the next happening hot-shot party, throw in a couple of bekar celebrities making their living off Page 3.

I like the feel of Fontainhas and what a small group of people have done to this quaint little settlement across the Ourem Creek. Their valuable contribution, many hours of toil, hard work and drive putting a pretty face on this little piece of history, reconfirmed my faith that idealism still exists, even if amongst us few. And that’s why the Goa Heritage Action Group and the Panjim Municipal Council must be commended for rising above their respective boundaries, pulling resources from their own pockets, extending their physical hours more than the average, getting talent, creativity, verve and passion (not to forget dealing with the egos most talented people come equipped with) together to present the Festival of the Arts. I am moved when I see committed people doing what they believe in, sometimes against the odds, and coming up tops. I feel a rush of respect for the citizens of Fontainhas – and I know how conservative some of them are when they deal with strangers -- who have opened up their homes for the sake of art. A sense of confidence rushes through me when I realise that the youth have actively contributed to this cause – that they do feel a need to value what we already have. And not just made use of by corrupt politicians, who thrive on young blood to push the envelope during election time.

It’s the same feeling when you speak to a local fisherman who runs his little family restaurant by the Nerul bridge, of a livelihood he had been making off the river, now lying threatened. After a wonderful meal prepared by his wife, he offered us a moonlitide down the river mouth in his tour boat. Even my girls fell silent watching the ebb and flow of the river tide, the moon sailing against the mangroves, the soft lush of the water against the wood of the canoe, the sounds of tiny life coming alive in the darkness and then the garish lights of commercialism along the distance. He spoke of a barter – jobs offered in exchange of silence – and he felt a despondency that he would no longer be in control of his environment. I asked him to listen to his inner voice, and that unity had to be found even in times of great differences. Of course, I was glad to know that they had indeed spoken out loud, and we should, to hold on to things that are dear to us.

Unfortunately, I can’t compare what other touristic spots and their governments around the world do to promote, protect and pride what nature and manpower has to offer. In Hawaii, I saw a great respect for the land borne out of a volcano. In Atlanta, Florida and Miami, the systems were in order, and so were the rules. Clean roads, precise parking spaces, trash cans for rubbish and zebra crossings that don’t knock down elderly pedestrians. The old co-exists with the new, with a sense of respect for one’s culture and history, whilst progressively moving into the future.

I’m told that the hallowed corridors of the GMC, will soon bubble with the froth of beer (not that we don’t have enough drunks in the State already). Or worse, turned into commercial spaces. I cannot imagine people haggling and buying in those sacred spaces – though I reckon many will brush it off as foolish sentiment. And believe me, I’m meeting people all the time who tell me that idealism is truly dead. What I’m waiting for rather, is to see whether Fontainhas will lead the way, to show us that sentiment for one’s past can guide us through our future.

Ethel Da Costa
February 7, 2003

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