Cheers Dears
By Augusto Pinto

Bananas, Chikoos and Coconuts

Dears,

In Panjim the other day a flowery shirt over colourful Bermudas came striding
towards me. It was vaguely familiar. He grabbed my hand and pumping it said,"Gusto,
remember me!? I'm Barny, Barny Barretto!" Barny was an old schoolmate who had come
down from the United States for a holiday. He dragged me over to George's Restaurant
for lunch.

"So Barny how did you end up in the States?," I asked. "Gusto, after my schooling
here, I went back to Kenya where my father worked and from there emigrated first to
the U.K. where I finished my education and after I started my own business, I got a
fast track green card to the U.S. of A. Good old Uncle Sam is the melting pot of the
rich and famous." he replied with a grand flourish.

As we settled into our meal I asked him how he liked Goa and whether he intended to
settle down here. "Goa?" his American accent twanged in alarm,"Good God no! My wife
and children can't stand this place. Goa is incredibly provincial. And Goans are
very backward in their thinking. Not just here mind you, but all over the world.
Whenever you meet a Goan, do you know the first thing they will ask?" "What do they
ask Barny?" I asked. "They'll ask - which village do you come from?"

I said,"What's wrong with that? Gandhi said that the soul of India lives in its
villages. This holds good for Goa too, I guess." I should not have said that for it
really wound him up.

Barny said,"Oh come on Gusto, don't be naive. You know very well that they want to
find out your caste when they ask for your village. Tum kon'nallo. And this happens
even among Catholic Goans who are not supposed to believe in castes. Scratch the
surface of their skins and you will find they are casteist. The Bamons and Chaddes
cleverly refer to themselves as Bananas and Chikoos And they pass snide remarks
about the origins of others to show they are superior. I tell you, this mentality
persists even among priests who, like their Master's disciples should have behaved
like those humble fishermen. Fat hope that of happening."

By now I was bored by Barny's tirade. "Barny, I think that you're out of touch with
life here. It's not the same as it was 40 years ago when you were young. But even
then things were not that bad; even then caste in Goa was not like caste in other
Indian rural areas, or even some urban areas even today especially in North India. I
was in Benares some years ago and what you say would definitely be true there. The
air there simply bristles with caste anger. It can get very uncomfortable because
you know that if you are not careful with your remarks about caste you could get a
knife stuck in your back. It's true that that there are still people in Goa who make
snide remarks on this subject, but this is quietly dying out. In the Metros, as in
Goa, caste doesn't hinder anyone in the normal course of life. Not that it is
absent. It crops up when marriage proposals come up, but quite often the younger
generation just do their own thing and get hitched to the person of their own
choice, from whichever caste or religion or country. In any case, you should think
of a caste as being like one of your exclusive clubs in the States. Then it won't
bother you much."

Bary had not come for a holiday to be lectured to by the likes of me, and he
retorted hotly,"Rubbish. You've admitted that this primitive mentality is still
present in this day and age. In the States we live modern cosmopolitan lives. And
with our mighty dollar it is a good life." I said,"But Barny, don't you miss your
own culture? And aren't you being treated like a second class citizen by those
Whites?" His supercilious reply was, "I'd rather be a second class American than a
third class Indian."

By then our meal had come to an end and we parted ways. I thought to myself - Barny
might not be a Banana or a Chikoo, but he definitely is a Coconut - Brown on the
outside and White inside.

Till next time then...

Cheers