Saturday, August 30, 2008

Mundano de sexta à noite

- Fogo...Aquela gaja conseguiu entornar cerveja no meu bolso das calças...
- Hmm...Aquele tipo anda a evitar-me porque acha que eu quero ter mais alguma coisa com ele...que anormal.
- Pois...que burro.
- Vais saír amanhã?
- Não...às vezes sabe bem ficar em casa para variar...
- Pois sabe, então não sabe.
(equanto esperava pelo primeiro 500, reparei que há agora morangos na selva)

Friday, August 29, 2008

Mundano de quinta à noite

- Outro burro que traz o carro para aqui...
(aproxima-se um mercedes preto, descapotável, topo de gama, conduzido por um homem careca de blazer e com olhar esgroviado)
- Hmm...pois...mas ele até tem espaço para passar...porque é que ele não avança?
- Estranho...parece que vai saír do carro...
(o homem careca sai do carro, tranca as portas - completamente desnecessário dado a capota estar toda aberta mas coerente com a irrealidade da situação - deixa-o no meio da rua e entra num bar)
- Olha, agora vem aí um táxi...
(o táxi aproxima-se do mercedes preto imobilizado na via e pára, visto não poder seguir caminho)
- Hmm...o taxista já saiu do carro, está com cara de mau...
- Agora saiu o cliente...mas...mas, é o tipo dos gatos amestrados!
- Ei...pois é...e tá completamente fora...
(o homem careca sai do bar com um copo de vidro cheio de cerveja, entra calmamente no carro, o tipo dos gatos amestrados vai falar com ele, dir-se-ia que trocam palavaras de cortesia...muito sorrisos...e os carros proseguem lentamente por entre o ajuntamento).

Monday, August 25, 2008

Returning to the convent

The Augustinian convent at Old Goa was closed down in 1835 and all its property confiscated by the state. Most of the religious artefacts – statues, crosses, retables, choirs, pipe-organs, etc – were acquired by smaller churches in Goa. For a brief period, the convent was reused as a Hospital; however, it proved too costly to maintain. It later came under military authority but was never reoccupied. In 1846, the huge stone vault of the church collapsed. This led to the fast decay of the whole convent. In the 1930s, very little was left standing except for the main façade and its right-hand side tower. At this time, the members of the Archaeological Committee of Goa started to clear the vegetation and debris within the ruins of the church. They also “saved” some of the church’s glazed tiles by removing them and reaffixing them in other churches. The clearing of debris, vegetation and entangled roots near the main façade caused its collapse. Only a portion of the tower still remains, stoically resisting the ravages of time.

Monday, August 18, 2008

What goes around comes around

Having just turned 24, I visited Goa for the first time. A few years prior to that, I came to know through books and friends that Goa was the place where Portuguese and Indian cultures had mixed more intensively. I figured we (Goa and me) had necessarily a lot in common since we were both the result of an indo-portuguese marriage. Naturally, by the time I set foot in Goa, my expectations about the place were running very high.

This marriage, although agitated and ending in a messy divorce, had originated beautiful fruits. Fruits of singular beauty - a beauty not always apparent but sensed and discovered. A beauty entangled with irresistable stories...the stories that spring fourth from the encounter between East and West.

The stories of this encounter - in which I include my own story - mesmerize me more and more. Although the stories often have a violent or painful backdrop, they also inlude precious moments of travelling, home coming and...biteer-sweet moments of homesickness.

Moments of adventure.

When I set foot in Goa for the first time, having just turned 24, I literally ran back inside the airport. Having realised there was no one to pick me up, I had to escape a mob of excited taxi drivers who, in the thick of the monsoon station, were really in need of customers.
Back inside the airport, I called my contact. He gave me the proper instructions and directions concerning the taxi voyage.

There was some suspicious stuff at the pre-paid counter...I later realised they overcharged me something like 30rps.

That first drive from Dabolim to Taleigão left a deep imprint in my memory...everything was covered with a layer of green so...green it almost hurt the eyes to look at. The sun shone vigorously through the clouds. The ambassador slowly cruised along the Zuari riverfront...

...I knew then that Goa would not only live up to my expectations but greatly surpass them.

It still does.