REMINISCENCES OF MY CHILDHOOD IN THE VILLAGE

by Dr. Bailon de Sa
desa@sancharnet.in

I was born rather prematurely, in the island village of Santo Estevam on 17th May, 1913. My family was middle class but my parents were much respected for their honesty, integrity and charity. I grew up a normal child – with colds and coughs, fevers and minor injuries. We were fortunate that I had a cousin who was a very skilful physician, and whom we consulted for any malady. When I was about six, my father’s brother, who had relinquished his job in the railways, took up my education. The village had a Portuguese primary school with five classes. My education was entirely at home. I appeared for both the public exams and passed with distinction, beating all the official candidates. I was then nine years old and too small to leave the house. So I remained for another two years at home, where my uncle taught me Latin and Maths. The foundations then laid were of immense use later in my academic career, when I was sent as a boarder to the then well known English school in Goa – Mater Dei in Saligão. At the entrance examination, I was found fit to enter the 5th standard. But I preferred to go to standard Four as I found the boys in Std. Five rather biggish! The five years that culminated in Matriculation passed rather smoothly. My rank went gradually upwards. At the final Matriculation class, I stood first in the school with a couple of distinctions. Then came St. Xavier’s in Bombay. I sailed through easily, until I got my Master’s at the University of Bombay and further on, until I got my Doctorate in Germany and so forth. But that is a different chapter of my adult life.

Coming back to my village, where my youth was largely spent. I was born and bred in this village. About 50 years ago it was a poor village with about half a dozen families who considered themselves “good”. Most of the villagers were agriculturists and farmers. They lived by labouring hard in the fields, hardly venturing out. But though they were poor they were not destitute. The village had a beautiful church built by our ancestors; it also had its own parish priest, doctor, pharmacist, mid-wife, village idiot and madman, barber, goldsmith, iron-smith, washerman, tailor, shopkeeper, carpenter, fishermen and the village atheist. It was completely self-contained, a mini world in itself. There was also a well-attended Portuguese primary school. The brighter students went to Panjim to study in the Lyceum or the Medical School or to the Seminary in Rachol. That made about two per cent of a population of about 5000. Mine was the only family that went for English education – either in Saligão or Parra – till matriculation.

During the holidays, in summer or winter, we had a very cohesive group of about six from the Portuguese and English schools, who dominated the social life in the village. In summer, the group enjoyed sports (football or badminton), picnics, swimming, fishing etc. In winter, our activities were dominated by Christmas and the feast of the Patron. Dances, plays, football matches, etc. filled our days.

The bullock-cart dominated our transport system. The village had no proper roads. The road system was a complicated network of lanes, by-lanes and footpaths traced according to the convenience of the people. There was one main arterial road from which subsidiary roads branched off. They were dirt roads that, in summer, turned into veritable dust cushions, whilst in winter, they turned into slush. But this never dampened our spirits. In fact, we loved everything, because after all, it was our village! Referring to the intricacies of the network of lanes and by-lanes, our neighbour Dr. José Estevam Afonso, who once lost his way in them, remarked, “Oh Basilio (my father), isto é a confusão de grandes cidades” – to the vast amusement of my father.

The dominant feature of my village were its inhabitants. The whole village was one home with no neighbours in the modern sense. Kindness and concern for all were qualities that made it a single unit. The bond that existed between the rich and the poor made it a single home. Never have I met with such affection and mutual respect anywhere – and I have seen the world! That was the village I lived in and loved.

Today, with the spread of education and the youth well employed in various occupations, the village is rich. There are houses that crowd each other and it is one of the most thickly populated villages in Goa. Some of the old houses have gone. On occasional visits that I make to spend a few days in my ancestral house, I am like a stranger – unknown and unnoticed by most. The old spirit of camaraderie and neighborliness has evaporated and I do not feel at home anymore. But I still love that village – once a village of poor farmers, of dirt roads and of universal affection. The village of my ancestors. The memories linger on….
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With a doctorate from the University of Aachen, Germany, Dr. Bailon de Sa taught at St. Xavier's, College, Calcutta, for over 25 years. Handpicked by the UNESCO, he then spent around 10 years on education-related projects at Ghana and Libya, before returning to Goa. Dr. de Sa is also a writer of repute, having written extensively on a number of topics. He resides at Corlim, Goa with his family.

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