Looking back at the simple, slow-moving Goa.
by Dominic Fernandes

Life in Goa in the 1940s and 1950s was not a piece of cake. Those of
us who were born during this period have witnessed tremendous
changes including the changing of the guard -- from the Portuguese
regime to a democratically-elected government. I look upon the past
with nostalgia because I have experienced many things, the most
important of all being the transition period from almost the Stone
Age to the modern world and the determination with which we forged
our lives and came out victorious.

Life in those days was very quiet and simple, totally dependent on Mother
Nature. There were no proper roads; transportation was almost absent.
Unlike today, the environment was pollution-free. The only things that moved
about were human beings and domesticated animals like cows, bulls,
buffaloes, goats, dogs, cats, chicken, and the like.

Man in those days was healthier than today because he ate pure food and was
always on the run. Since there was no transportation, he walked from the
north to the south and from the east to the west on foot. He was never tired
of walking, because his continuous walk built enough stamina in him and
helped him survive the odds at the time. He walked because he had to; but it
also worked in his favour. Walking burned calories and kept him fit and
healthy; he didn't have to go to a gymnasium to do that.

Everything was practically carried on foot. Things were filled in a big
'panttlo' (basket made of bamboo) and placed on the head on a 'chomlli'
(cloth folded into a coil shape.) In order to relieve the humble head-loader
of his or her burden, a 'dovornem' (pedestal built of stones) was made
available at almost every three kilometers. This enabled the carrier could
place the burden on it and then reload it on to his or her head without
anyone's help.

Not only things, but also people were carried by men in palanquins or
machilas on foot. Anjuna church had and still has two palanquins -- one was
used to carry the parish priest, and the second to carry the Bishop and
other dignitaries whenever they visited the parish.

Each church then employed four men called 'boyyas'. Their main duty
was to carry the parish priest in a palanquin -- two on each side,
but they also did other work like church cleaning, ringing the bell,
digging of graves, and the like. A parish priest made use of a
palanquin to visit people in the village, to carry Holy Communion to
the sick, to bless houses. The place in Anjuna where 'noveo
bhatacheo konnxeo' (new rice stalks) are blessed is hardly 200
meters from the church premises, but even this short distance was
covered in a palanquin. The 'boyyas' were never happy with their
job. I remember sometime in the early 1950's we had a parish priest
who was so fat that he could hardly fit into the palanquin. Every
time the boyyas were required to carry him, they would curse him.
While the parish priest sat in the palanquin with his shoes on, poor
boyyas walked barefoot!

The only mode of transport available in those days was a 'gaddo' (bullock
cart). Today, many of us tend to make mockery of a gaddo but I admire and
salute both, the gaddo and the 'gaddekar' (bullock cart rider) because it is
they who served our society with dedication when transportation was almost
non-existent.

It is the gaddekar who helped the yester year Goan to build his house by
transporting building materials like laterite stones, sand, 'xencaro'
(locally collected gravel from 'vhalls',) wood, etc. Some of those houses
have now become symbols of Goan heritage and an attraction to tourists. We,
therefore, ought to be thankful to the gaddo and gaddekar instead of
despising them. Besides helping our ancestors to put in place the basic
infrastructure, the gaddo and the gaddekar went on to become part and parcel
of their daily lives.

Goods from port to market places were transported by bullock carts.
Until the end of the 1950's and early 1960's, goods meant for the
Mapusa old market, which was located behind the Mapusa Municipal
building where the Alankar theatre and other buildings now stand,
were transported by bullock carts.

Bullock carts were registered with the Municipality and issued with a
'toktto' (badge) which was fixed to the main beam or chassis of the cart.
The main parking area for bullock carts was opposite the Benao shop or
Farmacia Ferrao where gaddekars tied their bullocks to a small 'benddiechem
zadd' -- the place was obviously always full of dung. While in Mapusa,
gaddekars took the opportunity and horse-shoed their bullocks while they
rested in the parking lot.

During harvesting, paddy was usually transported from the field to home on a
person's back, provided the residence was close by. If it was far away, a
bullock cart was hired.

Para-boiled paddy was taken to a husking mill by bullock cart, and so was
'khobrem' (dried coconut) taken to a 'ghanno' (bullock driven oil
extractor.)

In the olden days, people hired a bullock cart to go to weddings,
parties, and the like. They would place kon'nam~ (woven coconut
leaves) on the cart and make women sit in the center; men sat on the
edge. As soon as they approached a choddtti (up slope,) and if the
load was too heavy, everyone was required to get down and they would
board the cart again only after it had cleared the slope.

A gaddo was also used to carry 'vojem' (gifts of home made sweets consisting
of mainly 'boll', 'dodoll', 'doce' and bananas,) from the bride's place to
the groom's. The bride's family would fill the vojem in several 'panttle'
and place them on the gaddo. The 'randpinnim' (female cooks) and a woman
carrying a 'tambddi xedachi sontri' (red silk umbrella) usually accompanied
the vojem. All these women would sit by the edge of the gaddo except the
woman carrying the red umbrella; she would take the center spot and sit
there with the umbrella wide open. The randpinni were always in a happy mood
when they traveled with vojem because they knew they would receive good tips
from the groom's family.

HARVESTING PADDY: Goa's main paddy harvesting takes place in the month of
October. The 'zotkar' (a person who ploughs the field) collects the hay from
a paddy field and carries it home on a gaddo in order to store it into a
'kuddem' (huge pile of hay). The hay is placed on a gaddo and tied to its
frame with a 'sumbachi dhori' (coir rope.)

Since roads in those days were full of pot-holes, no matter how tight the
hay was tied, some of it would fall on the road as the gaddo made its
journey home. As children, as soon as we saw a gaddo loaded with hay pass by
our house, we would fetch a dry 'piddo' (coconut leaf stem) and run after
it. We would place the piddo on the road and push it forward as we ran and
thus collect all the fallen hay. By the time gaddekars finished transporting
hay to their homes, we would have collected a lot of hay and have a little
pile of our own. We used hay to fry smoked 'bangdda' (mackerels,) making
sure that we were left with enough hay which we stored in a ~'zollovachi
khomp' (firewood storage) to use at Judev on the eve of St. John~Rs feast.

Speaking of a 'kuddem', here is something on the lighter side. A guy called
Enddo (crack) Inas was engaged to get married. Since they knew his
character, they wanted to make sure that he would not commit any stupid
mistakes on the crucial day. They told him: ~'Polle, tum atam vaddon novro
zala, dekun ami tuka kazar kortanv. Aiz tuzo kazaracho dis. Tum novro
mhunntoch tuvem sogleam poros unch ravonk zai ani loka lagim khaltikaien
ulovunk zai.' (Look, you have now grown up into a groom which is why we are
going to get you married. Today is your marriage day. As a groom, you must
be above all and talk to people politely.)

Cracked as he was, he totally misunderstood them. He thought he was asked to
remain in a high place. The only such place he could think of was a
'kuddem'. So, he fetched a ladder, climbed it and sat at the top of it. In
the meantime, it was time to go to church but Inas was missing and everyone
was looking for him. Finally, one of his relatives who passed by the kuddem
saw him and asked him: "Arre enddea, sogott tuka sodunk bonvtat ani tum
susegad hanga kuddear boson assa? (You crack fellow, everyone is looking for
you and you are coolly sitting here on the kuddem?)" Enddo's reply: "Tumi
mhaka sangonk naslem sogleam poros unch rav mhunnon? Dekunuch hanvem
hi unch suvat sodun kaddlea. (Didn't you all tell me to remain above all? This is
why I chose this place.)"

Most gaddekars are drinkers; some drink within limits and some
beyond, and I don't blame them for that. Nowadays, if anyone has a
headache or body ache, he uses pain killers to get rid of the pain,
but in those days liquor was the only pain killer known to them,
specially from a life of drudge work. They used it for a dual
purpose - to get rid of pain and to get a kick out of it.

I have had a very good relationship with gaddekars right from my childhood
to date. One of the reasons that brought us closer was the problem they
always faced on the choddti adjacent to my house.

It is a small slope but quite steep. Every time they carried a full load,
the bullocks would find it difficult to climb the uneven, pot-holed road. As
soon as the bullocks hesitated to move and the gaddo began to move backward,
the gaddekar would run and fetch a sizeable stone and place it under one of
the wheels, which would halt its movement. Many times, the gaddekar would
lose his temper and beat the bullocks mercilessly with a 'lingddachi boddi'
(a local whipping cane of sorts). As a result, 'paddo thopkon marun getalo',
(the bullock would stubbornly sit on the ground.) Once this happened, it was
very difficult to make it stand up; even twisting of the tail would not
help.

Sometimes, both the bullocks would turn stubborn. If I noticed this
situation, I would rush out of my house and lend the gaddekar all the help I
could, including pushing and controlling the wheel by shifting the stone
underneath for which they were ever grateful to me. My reward: "Dev borem
korum baba," and a hello with a smile whenever I passed by them with a
casual question: "Baba, koxe assat tumi? (Baba, how are you?)" I would
reply: "Hanv assa boro". They would say: "Dev tujer bessanv ghalum (May God
bless you)."

Gaddekars are hard workers, but they are always in a happy mood, and this is
evident when one hears them hum tunes. Due to the nature of their work, they
are always in a dirty state; they get completely dirty when they load and
unload laterite stones. During our childhood whenever we returned home
soaked in mud, our parents would say: "Zala polle gaddekar kosso! (You have
become like a gaddekar!)"

My father had a well dug and built on our property when I was a small kid.
Every morning, Dot'tuli gaddekar from 'Munngan' in Assagao brought laterite
stones to our place and unloaded them in front of our house. He was a nice,
sincere, medium built, fair complexioned person. He wore a white
kashti-dhothi, and a made-to-order white vest with a pocket on the left
side. Since his clothes would be covered with dirt and mud all the time,
they always looked reddish in color. His lips were red in color because he
always ate 'paan'. He supplied us with very good quality stones - something
called 'mirieo fator'. In fact, the masons were unhappy with the quality
because their 'pikanor' or 'taxnni' (work-tools) would go blunt every now
and then due to hard nature of the stones.

Each gaddo load contained 25 stones. Every Saturday, Dot'tuli would count
his stones. He never began the count with the expected 'ek' (one) but always
with the word 'lab' (profit.) Every count of stone was marked with a dot of
'chuno' (whitewash.) Thus, there was no way he could have missed the count.

My house is located on the main Siolim-Panaji road (formerly Siolim-Betim
road). Nirla (or, the village of Nerul) is very famous for 'godd konngeo'
(sweet potatoes). When it was the season for 'konngeo', every Tuesday
evening, bullock carts loaded with sweet potatoes passed by my house to go
to Siolim for the 'budvarachea bazarak' (Wednesday bazaar). Similarly,
during the summer, mangoes were transported in bullock carts from Siolim to
Calangute on every Friday evening for the 'sonvarachea bazarak' (Saturday
bazaar.)

One means of transportation of the 1950's was a 'boilanchi gaddi'
(oxen-driven carriage). Unfortunately, it was not a public transport. So, it
became a conveyance of only a few. The person riding the carriage was known
as 'gaddiekar'. Gaumvaddy has always been in the forefront and here again
the first gaddi in Anjuna was started by Kashinath from Gaumvaddy, followed
by the second in Bhattin by Pundalik and the third by Raja in St. Sebastian
ward.

A gaddi was made of wood. It had a half-door entrance with a metal
step below, and two small windows -- one on each side. It had a
bench on either side with sitting capacity of two persons each but
three each would be squeezed in. In addition, a small stool or two
would be placed in the middle of the carriage to accommodate
children or a lighter person(s). The carriage was painted a mustard
colour with fine brown bordering around the edges. The wooden spokes
on the wheels were painted black.

The gaddiekar always tied a bucket to the main beam of the carriage and a
small 'zablli' (small net made of coir) filled with fresh grass or dry hay.
As soon as he reached the destination, he would untie the oxen and tie
them to a near by tree. He would then remove grass or hay from the zablli
and place it before them.

Next, he would fetch water from a well with a bucket and quench their
thirst. During the summer season, he would collect extra water and splash it
on the oxen's backs to make them feel cool. During night travel, he lit the
lamp which was fixed to the right side of the carriage. During the cold
season,, he wore thick clothing and covered his head and ears with a
muffler, and smoked a traditional cigarette or 'beedi' to keep warm.

The beauty of a gaddi was that it never got punctured nor did it
break down or run out of petrol like a car. Neither was the
gaddiekar required to change gears every now and then; a gaddi
always ran at one speed -- slow and steady like a tortoise -- and
reached its destination without any problems. The occupants kept
themselves busy either discussing various topics from the village or
if they were going for a wedding, they would sing mandos, dulpods
and dekhnis. I enjoyed travelling by gaddi in those days and wouldn't
mind travelling by it if it were made available today!

There were also a few 'ghoddeancheo gaddieo' (horse carriages) during the
same period. In the late 1950's while I pedalled my way to Escola Technica in
Mapusa via Parra, I always saw a horse and a carriage parked by the
roadside, about a 100 meters from the 'denvti' (downhill slope). It was a
pleasure to watch a horse carriage ply between Parra and Mapusa. Since a
horse trots and because its carriage and wheels are lighter in weight, it
runs much faster than a boilanchi gaddi.

A gaddekar plying his gaddo as a goods carrier would sometimes fix a leather
collar belt in the oxen's neck fixed with 'ghantleo' (jingle bells,) and so
would the gaddiekar. But there was a difference in size and sound -- the
jingles tied to the oxen of a gaddo were bigger in size and produced a
thicker sound, whereas those tied to the oxen of a gaddi were smaller in
size and produced a thinner sound. Thus, people were able to differentiate
between an approaching gaddo or gaddi from a distance -- say from about half
a kilometer. During a cold silent night, the sound of a gaddo or gaddi could
be heard from a much further distance. A gaddekar or gaddiekar would also
tie small pieces of red cloth to the oxen's horns to ward off evil eye.

Speaking of a gaddi and the sound of jingles from the oxen's neck, I have
something interesting to share with our readers about one of the incidents
of the olden times, the kind of which were quite common in those days.

My house is just three meters away from the main road. I have seen all
types of transport on this road. Many times, I heard my mother tell our
neighbors that every night, past midnight she heard the jingles of a gaddi
from as far as a kilometer away in Bhattin, and that she could feel the
gaddi slowly approach and pass our house and proceed towards
Arpora-Calangute road. The neighbors obviously were very curious but nobody
was willing to bell the cat.

One of our relatives who was older than me, used to come to sleep at our
place at night. I told him what I had heard and we decided to find out the
truth for which we had to keep awake. As soon as it was midnight, we heard
the jingles from a distance and there was no doubt the gaddi was fast
approaching my house. The sound of jingles drew nearer just as it would with
a gaddi on the move. When the sound got closer to my house, we came out and
stood by the roadside but to our surprise the jingling stopped for a while
and we couldn't see anything pass by us, but we felt a jolt of breeze brush
us. Within less than a minute we again heard the jingles on the other side
of the road thus confirming the fact that there indeed was a gaddi on the
move but we could not see it.

It sends a shiver in the spine when one hears such ghost stories
which were quite common in those days when darkness prevailed in
Goa. It is believed that the introduction of electricity gradually
got rid of such happenings. Believe it or not!

A gaddo may be out of fashion but Efifanio, colloquially known as 'Efulo'
from Mazalvaddo in Anjuna, did not shy away to prove to the people that it
was the only means of transportation in the olden days. When he got married
in 1998, he went to church by car but once the nuptials were celebrated, he
proudly returned home with his bride on a gaddo which was specially
decorated for the occasion with a real coconut tree top fixed to it under
which the bridal couple sat. It was indeed a sight to watch and I salute
'Efulo' for his courage to do that. As a child, I did accompany Simao
Fernandes from Gaumvaddy to church in a gaddi on his wedding day.

I am also very proud of Vincent D'Souza, known to all as Lulu -- the
owner of Lulu -- farm at Igrozvaddo in Anjuna, for constructing a
gaddo in a contemporary style. He is the only person to own a modern
bullock cart fitted with car wheels with bearings. He introduced
this novelty in the late 1960's and it went on to become the marvel
of one and all. Of course, he had a person who rode the cart but
sometimes he would take over the reins and ride the cart
majestically.

As far as house decor is concerned, Casa Proenca in Calangute has a bullock
cart wheel fixed to the front wall of the house. The bullock cart may be
outdated but every time people pass by the house, it reminds them of the
good old days and of the oldest transportation in Goa!

I have known and been a friend to many gaddekars in Anjuna since my
childhood but the most interesting character of all was Nanu Tuemkar
(originally from Tuem in the adjoining taluka of Pernem, as his name
suggests), who was colloquially known to all as 'Nango'.

This man was a very strong person. He would load a gunny bag on his back
filled with a quintal of paddy as if it were a feather. He worked very hard
from morning till evening, but he had a bad habit. As soon as he received
payment, he would visit a 'dukorn' (tavern) and drink to his heart's
content. He drank so much that he was unable to walk to the cart and even
if he got there he couldn't board it; he would fall flat on the ground.

His oxen were so wise that once they knew their master had fallen flat on
the ground, they would head home without him. The moment the bullocks
arrived home, Nango's wife, Bhagirati, immediately knew that her husband
must be drunk and lying somewhere on the road. I don't think there is anyone
in Goa then who has not watched the Hindi blockbuster of the 'seventies
'Sholay'.

Bhagirati would leave everything, tie her 'kapodd' into a 'kashto', sit on
the gaddo, take charge of the reins and say to herself 'Chal Bhagirati',
just as Hema Malini said 'Chal Basanti' in the Sholay movie. The oxen
surprisingly would lead her to the exact spot where their master lay flat.

And what did Bhagirati do? She would lift her husband, place him on the
cart, again take charge of the reins and ride home. Bhagirati never allowed
Nango to sleep without food. As soon as they reached home, she would feed
her husband just like a child and put him to sleep. The couple loved each
other so much that every year Bhagirati gave birth to a child. Nango's
eldest son, Hari, colloquially known as 'Horgo' carries on his father's
profession and is probably one of the last gaddekars to be seen around.

People who lived by the rivers, estuaries and creeks made use of
canoes to travel across. Anjunkars would cross the Xapora River in a
canoe to go to Morjim, Mandrem, Arambol, and the other villages of
the Pernem taluka. The journey was quite dangerous, especially in
the month of May when the current at the mouth of the river is very
strong, resulting in the swaying of the canoe. As a teenager, I
traveled only once by canoe on this route and found it to be very
unsafe. However, I enjoyed my canoe trips from Siolim to Vai Dongor
in Pernem. A couple of times, we even carried our bicycles on the
canoe.

ERA OF THE BICYCLE: The 1950's and the early part of the 1960's were the era
of the bicycle. Every middle class family's male member owned a bicycle.
Bicycles were also given for hire on an hourly basis as well as for a full
day or night.

In Anjuna, 'maknakar' (the guy who owned the husking mill) Bhiku had
bicycles for rent. In Mapusa, bicycles were available for rent adjacent to
the Municipal Garden, next to the temple. Hiring of a bicycle for a night
cost only eight annas -- or half a rupee -- then. Many made use of this
system. When people from far away places reached Mapusa late at night there
was no transportation available for further travel. So, they hired bicycles
for a night and traveled to the neighboring villages like Parra, Assagao,
Anjuna, Siolim, Bastora, Ucasaim, Moira, Aldona, etc. Some working members
also made use of bicycles for hire at night to travel from Mapusa to their
villages and back to the town the next morning.

As a boy of 13, one of our neighbors passed away in the early morning hours.
I was asked to go to some villages to inform his relatives and friends about
the funeral which would take place the next morning. I was hesitant at first
but I accepted the challenge. I set out on the mission and successfully
completed it by the evening. These are the places I traveled on one day on
my Hercules bicycle: Assagao, Siolim, Mapusa, Nachinola, Moira, Aldona,
Sucorro, Porvorim, Calafura (Santa Cruz), Pilerne, Candolim, Calangute,
Saligao and Arpora. I was required to repeat the feat a year later and it
was much easier the second time round. Over the years, if anyone died in the
ward or was getting married, I would be picked as a messenger. It was a
difficult task but I didn't mind it. From 1966 onwards it was much easier
for me to go on such missions as I then used my Honda motorcycle.

To my knowledge, four persons owned motorcycles in Anjuna in the 1950's. One
was my neighbor, Anthony D'Costa, owned a BSA, Albertinho D'Souza, an
ex-Africander from Gaumvaddy, owned a red moped. Fernand Rebello from Chivar
he owned a Florett, and there was another person from Gumalvaddo who also
owned a Florett. He was employed in the Electricity Department in Panjim;
so, he passed by my house every day. By the mid 1960's, quite a few guys in
Anjuna owned the Indian-made Rajdoot motorcycles and Lambrettas; Rui
Monteiro from Monteirovaddo was probably the only person who by then owned a Java motorcycle.

TRANSPORTATION, A MAJOR PROBLEM: Until the early 1960's transportation was
a major problem in Goa. In our locality, in the 1950's, there was only one
caminhao which belonged to Gabriel or Gabru from Siolim and which plied on
Siolim-Betim road. In fact, it was known as 'Gabrucho caminhao'.

Fortunately, since my house is located on the main road, we did not undergo
the hardship which most Anjunkars did. People walked all the way from
Danddo, Praias, Peddem, Sorantto, Gumalvaddo, D'Mellovaddo, Kudchem Bhatt,
Mazalvaddo to the main road in front of my house to catch the caminhao.

If it was jam-packed, it would not stop, but the passengers in wait
would keep on shouting 'Arre, rav re matso, rav re padd poddlelea,
arre, rav re! (Hey, halt a while, halt you cursed one, halt
please!)" Finally, they would be resigned to the fact that they had
missed their chance. You can imagine how bad those people must have
felt, especially when they had to wake up earlier than usual just to
arrive at the stop in time and then to return home disappointed.

As far as private taxi cars were concerned, there were only three cars in
Anjuna in the early 1950s. They belonged to the late Domnick motorcar in
Gaumvaddy, the late Pedru motorcar at Tembi, and the late Shridar motorcar
in Xapora/Kaisua. By the mid-1950's, each village in Goa was assigned a car
for 'piketik' (night duty) in order to attend to night emergencies. In
Anjuna, such a car was stationed at the 'Saud Saibinnimchem Kopel' (Chapel
of our Lady of Health.) It was a Vauxall brand car and it belonged to
Gabriel's or Gabru's family in Siolim; it was driven by one Vinayak.

The Shirodkars from Gaumvaddy, Anjuna, who rose from rags to riches, were
the first to own a personal Opel car in the mid-1950's, followed by Sirsat
from Mazalvaddo who owned a Mercedes Benz during the same period. The
Mascarenhas family (bhattkars) in Mazalvaddo already owned a Volkswagen.
Dr. Afonso, known to people as Dotor Fonsa, was the only person who was seen
driving his antique car on the Calangute-Anjuna road in those days.

At the beginning of the 1960's, two new Prince brand cars were introduced in
Anjuna -- one belonged to the late Krishna from Gaumvaddy and the other to
late Nonko from Mazalvaddo. The latter was financed by late Albertinho
D'Souza from Gaumvaddy.

Around this time, one Raghuvir from Kudchem Bhatt also owned a Dodge car,
and late Pirsahab (Salim's father) from Arpora plied his private Morris car,
followed by late Dakuli from Assagao who served the Anjuna-Assagao public
with his Hillman car. Dakuli happened to be quite a heavy drinker. Every
time he felt the urge for a drink, he would say to his friends: "Let's go to
Mary's house," meaning, let's go to a bar!

All these cars plied as private taxis between Anjuna and Mapusa. These cars
were parked at the Anjuna Taxi Stand on the downhill slope opposite
Coulecar's shop.

As we know, the sitting capacity of a car is five persons including the
driver, but they would pack the car like a sardine tin. The car owner would
say: "Sogleankuch ghora vochonk zai, hoi ki nam? Tor, matxim fattim fuddem
gollon bosat num! Barik assa tannem manddier boschem." (Everyone wants to go
home, right? So, why don't you adjust yourselves back and forth and be
seated. Lean persons please be seated on somebody's lap.) Thus, he would fit
eight persons on the back seat and three to four more on the front. He then
would take his seat and take charge of the steering. He was never able to
sit straight. So, he would twist his body and fit himself against the
window. He then had a problem -- he could not change gears. So, he would
request the guys sitting on the front seat to keep pushing towards the
window on their side to enable him move the gear.

Once he was able to use the gear freely, he would say: "Ahhhh! Atam tumi
sucegad bossat; ami rokdinch ghora pavteleanv. (Ahhhh! Now you all can sit
at ease; we shall soon reach home.") The person(s) bearing the weight of
another on his or her lap knew exactly what the word 'ease' meant. By the
time they got home, their legs would be numb from the weight and it took
them some time to walk properly after they exited the car. The fare from
Mapusa to Assagao or Anjuna was the same; it didn't matter whether one got
down at ~Vollan in Assagao which is just down the slope as you enter Assagao
or at Danddo -- extreme end of Anjuna. The best thing was that nobody
complained either about the car being jam-packed with passengers or the
fare. When the cars were jam-packed, drivers never went from the front of
the Quartel (police station) but they always made use of the road behind the
police station.

By the late 1950's, the flow of foreign cars into Goa began to increase and
one could see quite a number of private taxis plying on main roads like
Mapusa-Betim, Panjim-Agasaim, Cortalim-Margao, etc. Some of the common
brands of taxis then were: Austin, Dodge, Chevrolet, Cadilac, Consul,
Hillman, Impala, Opel, Peugeat, Prince, Mercedes Benz, Vauxall, Pontiac.

In the mid-1960's, a bus service was introduced for the Anjunars. The
starting point of the bus was Xapora. It passed by Vagator, Sorantto, Tembi,
Mazalvaddo, Gaumvaddy, St. Sebastian Ward, Assagao, Khorlim and finally
halted at the Anjuna bus stand in Mapusa, opposite the Sirsat building.

Being the only bus, it was always overloaded and here again nobody
complained because everyone wanted to get to Mapusa or back home.
The same seating system as that of a car prevailed in a bus, e.g., the conductor
would say: "Matxim gollon bossat -- bhurgeak matxem manddier ghe. (Please
adjust yourselves -- take the child on your lap.)"

People who traveled by bus for the first time were so excited that
they couldn't believe they were travelling above the road and the
surprise was evident from the blush on their faces followed by a
smile every now and then. They would also look at the floor of the
bus and then peep outside the window to affirm that they were really
being carried by a bus. Everyone wanted to sit by the window,
especially during the summer, so that they could feel the air and
sweat less. The bus would be so full that it would travel tilted on
its left side because at least ten passengers at each door would
catch hold of the bar and hang out!

The bus driver's name was Gozo, and over the years the bus itself came to be
known as Gozo's bus. Gozo was a very fat person. He was a chain smoker; he
smoked the then locally-popular Charminar cigarettes. He smoked cigarettes
like a chillum. Gozo was also a heavy drinker. The moment he parked the bus
at the stand, he would straight away walk into the Central Bar and drink
there until it was time for the bus to depart. Fortunately, he never met
with an accident, though once the breaks failed on the slope at the U-turn
at the Khorlim ghatt, but the bus miraculously halted on the protection
stones. It was believed that the Holy Cross at the top of the hill had saved
the people from a disaster. All drivers plying their vehicles regularly via
Khorlim ghatt, including two-wheeler riders, celebrate a yearly litany to
the cross in the month of May as a thanksgiving for protecting them from
accidents on the ghatt.

The bicycle was gradually replaced by the motorcycle in the early
1960's. It went on to become one of the main means of transport of
every Goan. With the arrival of tourists in Goa around the same
time, the motorcycle picked up momentum and became a craze of
hippies. Many coastal residents gave up their regular work, bought
motorcycles, began plying them as private taxis and made a living
out of them. Bicycles were ignored and they rusted in compounds
where they were left. By the end of the 1960's almost every working
member in a family and even a non-working member owned a motorcycle
-- thanks to the banks for facilitating the purchase by lending
loans to individuals.

Unlike bicycle, the motorcycle (and scooter) did not fade into oblivion. It
is still one of the preferred means of transportation by every Goan -- male
or female. In fact, children in Goa learn to ride a motorbike by the age of
10-12 and by the time they grow up, they handle it like a toy.

By the late 1960's, made-in-India cars -- Ambassador Mark I, followed by
Mark II, and the Fiat -- slowly took over the aging fleet of foreign (mainly
European) cars and captured the market. The first public service Ambassador
car in Anjuna was owned by Sahadev, colloquially known as Shadi. The car was
financed by late Tiplin, an ex-Africander from Mazalvaddo. During the same
period, buses were added to each route in villages as well as towns thus
marking an improvement in public transportation.

And, now here we are in the 21st century, where every family owns at
least one car -- again thanks to banks for facilitating the purchase
of cars with loan schemes. However, most people still depend on
public transport and it continues to be very much in demand. Unlike
the past, nowadays there are buses plying every half an hour or 15
minutes everywhere plus there are several mini buses and private
cars which also provide service to the public.

Transportation may have eased our travel problems but it has become a thorn
in our lives as far as health is concerned. People are so habituated to
using vehicles that they hardly use their feet to walk. The result: poor
health. Some do find time to go for a walk or jog and burn their calories
but there are many who take life very easy and subsequently suffer the
consequences.

Recently, many low-budget -- or alternative -- foreign tourists have been
seen using either mopeds or bicycles for their mode of transport in Goa.
Some people in countries like China, which ranks number one in population in
the world, have reverted to the 1950's mode of transport, the bicycle that
does not only save them petrol expenses and parking problems but also helps
them maintain good health through regular pedalling to and from work.

That's all for now from Dom's antique shelf for now!

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Domnic Fernandes is from Anjuna and works in Dhahran, KSA
where he works for Saudi Aramco. He is known for his nostalgic writing about
the Goa of the past in his Dom's antique shelf series. Send in your comments
and feedback to jyodom@hotmail.com