Showing posts with label agriculture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label agriculture. Show all posts

Friday, September 5, 2025

"A Book full of Rice - Portuguese Colonialism, Food and Society in Goa: 1900-1961 in the JOÃO ROQUE LITERARY JOURNAL (September 2025)

 

Once an Assistant State Librarian at Goa’s Krishnadas Shama State Central Library, Maria de Lourdes Bravo da Costa also served as a Reference Librarian whose specialty was Indo-Portuguese History. Accordingly, the focus of da Costa’s latest book comes as no surprise, its title being Portuguese Colonialism, Food, and Society in Goa: 1900-1961 (Bloomsbury 2025).

Attending to the final decades of Portuguese rule in Goa, da Costa’s book looks closely at rice production in the capital of Estado da Índia, arguing that despite being a dietary staple, the crop regularly fell short of the requirements of Goans, and especially those from marginalized backgrounds. In her book, da Costa examines how the problem of rice insufficiency was emblematic of entrenched social hierarchies, especially in the context of bhatkar-mundkar (landlord-tenant) agrarian economies in Goa. Yet, as da Costa also finds, the failure to meet the basic needs of its people evidenced the decline of Portuguese India.

As is clear, da Costa’s book delves into social, economic, and political concerns related to Goa’s twentieth century history. Nevertheless, da Costa’s research also includes cultural and literary perspectives, topics she says more about in this interview with R. Benedito Ferrão.

*

RBF: What led you to the study of rice and especially in the period of Goan history you cover in your book?

MLBC:  Rice is the staple food of the Goan people, and any serious study of the region’s history must acknowledge its central role within the community. In my own writing and research, I’ve explored how rice shaped not just daily sustenance, but also systems of power and survival. When this basic cereal was in short supply, it wasn’t just hunger people faced — it was vulnerability. Those who had no land of their own to grow rice, especially the subaltern classes, found themselves increasingly dependent on landowners. That dependence became a tool — a way to control, exploit, and dominate. And it wasn’t just individuals who used it to their advantage. The very institutions that governed agrarian life — our Comunidades, and the colonial rulers behind them — all played their part in reinforcing these hierarchies, with rice as both the currency and the chain.

The sixty years I chose to explore were marked by events that left a lasting impact on Goa and the wider world — two World Wars, the Great Depression, the long struggle for freedom from colonial rule, and ultimately, the end of Portuguese control in Goa, Daman, and Diu. What drew me to this period wasn’t just its historical significance, but its nearness. I had lived through the final years of Portuguese rule as a child, and the memories of that time have stayed with me. More than that, I grew up listening to stories from elders — people who had experienced those events firsthand. Their recollections, shared around the home or in conversation, made history feel vivid and alive. That intimacy, that sense of lived experience, made working with contemporary history far more meaningful to me than delving into the distant past.


RBF: An intertext you rely on quite a bit is one by another writer with whom you share a surname: O Signo da Ira / The Sign of Wrath (1961) by Orlando da Costa (1929-2006). Quite symbolically, this work of fiction in Portuguese was published (in Portugal) in the same year as the end of Portuguese rule in Goa. Inasmuch as da Costa’s novel is set against the backdrop of Goa’s rural agrarian economy and portrays the hardships encountered by mundkars, it coequally represents the stratification of caste-ridden social hierarchies in late Portuguese Goa.

In employing O Signo da Ira, you parallel this work of fiction and the historical realities of the period of its setting. What role does historical fiction play in helping us understand the past?

MLBC: O Signo da Ira serves as a literary archive of a time when Goan society was on the point of transformation. Da Costa's portrayal of rural and urban settings, the complexity of caste and class, and the prevalent atmosphere of fear and inertia, all contribute to a textured historical understanding that goes beyond facts and timelines.

Historical fiction invites us to see history not just as a series of facts, but as a human story — layered, subjective, and alive. It allows us to question dominant narratives, reclaim silenced histories, to feel the past, and to better understand the forces that shaped our present and, in this particular case, continue to shape Goan (and lusophone) identity today.

My interest in O Signo da Ira stems from its focus on rice cultivation and the power dynamics between the
bhatkar and mundkar. Although the author briefly notes that the story is based on this relationship, the novel deeply engages with these themes. It begins with the preparation of fields for the winter rice crop (vangana), grounding the narrative in agrarian life. However, rice is not just a crop — it becomes a symbol of survival and a tool of exploitation in the story. The bhatkars control land and, by extension, the mundkars, reinforcing caste and class hierarchies. Through this lens, the novel exposes how food and land are central to systems of oppression. O Signo da Ira thus functions as both historical fiction and social critique, giving voice to the often-silenced realities of rural Goan life under colonial rule.

In reading the novel through the lens of rice cultivation, I found it became much more than a historical fiction set in colonial Goa. It served as a critique of agrarian injustice, a document of lived realities, and a reminder of how sustenance — something as essential as rice — could also be weaponised in maintaining systems of inequality.

RBF: O Signo da Ira is not the only literary or cultural text you work with in your book. You also analyze Leslie de Noronha’s The Mango and the Tamarind Tree (1970), work by the Moraeses (Francis or “Frank” and his son Dominic or “Dom”), and also themes in Goan folk songs of the dulpod variety. In all of these examples of cultural production, you seek out how they represent food. How are sustenance and memory intertwined in these expressions of Goan (and diasporic) cultural life?

MLBC: In Goan and diasporic cultural expressions, food represents more than sustenance — it is a vessel of memory, identity, and belonging. Traditional dishes like fish curry-rice or sarapatel carry stories of home, family, and heritage, often passed down through generations. In the diaspora, preparing these foods becomes a way to reconnect with Goa, preserving cultural identity in new environments. Another interesting example is the chouriçochurisas or linguisas de Goa. For many, it is one of the most cherished foods in Goa, as well as for expatriate Goans.  An ode to it was written by far and nearby Goan writers, maybe closer in Bombay or far away in Canada.

RBF: Even though your book is about Goan food history, in many ways it is also about the significance of fiction, poetry, and music by Goans in the establishment and maintenance of Goa’s culture. Now that you are retired after many years of service as a librarian, what do you reckon has changed in the way that Goans engage with literature by Goan writers? To be plain, this question arises from my own interest as a scholar of Goan literature and the observation that it is a subject that does not receive adequate attention in academia in Goa.

MLBC: I would agree with you — for a long time, Goan writers were not recognised as having a serious place in literature. We see that while Goa did produce literature in Portuguese during the colonial period, full-length novels were few and far between. What we do have, however, are short stories and significant contributions by Goan writers in Marathi and Roman Konkani.

After the annexation of Goa in 1961, the literary scene diversified further. We began to see works in English, Konkani (both Romi and Devanagari scripts), and Marathi, along with a handful of publications in Portuguese — mostly short stories, a few novels, and some essays. I am speaking specifically about Goan literature in Goa.

Although my own work has drawn on fiction, poetry, and music by Goans to understand how culture was established and maintained, this approach hasn't always been widely accepted. Many conservative historians still regard archival documents as the only legitimate source for historical inquiry. That said, this trend is gradually shifting. More scholars are beginning to see the value of alternative sources — including fiction — in capturing the emotional and cultural realities of a society.

In this spirit, I have used newspapers as a kind of people’s archive” — a living record of voices, opinions, and everyday experiences that formal archives often overlook. While this approach may not be accepted by all, it is heartening to see a growing openness toward literary and cultural texts as valid sources of historical understanding.

Fiction is often undervalued in academia for lacking factual credibility, yet it offers deep insight, especially when official records are limited or biased. It is up to the researcher to critically engage with fiction as a cultural and emotional archive. Meaningful analysis requires depth — not simply citing many sources, but closely examining a few relevant texts within the research context. When approached thoughtfully, fiction can powerfully complement or challenge official historical narratives.

I would like to add that the São Paulo University, Brazil, academic group, Pensando Goa, and the  GIEIPC-IP - Grupo Internacional de Estudos da Imprensa Periódica Colonial do Império Português, based in Lisbon, are responsible for opening up new dimensions of research, and I am happy to be an active member of both groups.

RBF: In closing, how would you like to see your book engaged with in Goa and elsewhere?

MLBC: I’d like my book to be seen as part of an effort to rethink how we engage with Goan history — not only through documents and state archives, but through the textures of everyday life: food, fiction, music, memory. In Goa, I hope readers connect with the work personally — especially those whose families have lived the realities I explore, like the politics of rice cultivation or the bhatkar–mundkar relationship. These are not just economic structures, but deeply emotional and cultural ones, shaping how people experienced power, identity, and survival.

I’ve used fiction, poetry, and song not just as background or context, but as sources — as living archives. And I’ve treated newspapers as “people’s archives,” where voices often excluded from official records could still be heard. I hope that readers and researchers begin to see these forms as essential to understanding history — particularly in postcolonial and regional contexts like Goa.

Outside Goa, I’d like the book to challenge the more superficial or romantic views of the region. Goa is not only a tourist destination or a footnote in Portuguese colonial history — it is a place of deep literary, linguistic, and social complexity. If the book can help spark more interest in Goan literature — whether in Portuguese, Romi or Devanagari Konkani, Marathi, or English — and open up new ways of thinking about cultural memory and resistance, then I’ll feel it has done meaningful work.

In the end, I hope it encourages others — students, scholars, and general readers — to look more closely, to read more deeply, and to question the boundaries between history and culture.

From the João Roque Literary Journal 

Friday, September 15, 2023

Karishma D'Souza's CAN'T SEE THE FOREST, Curatorial Note at Xippas Geneva (15 September-28 October 2023)

 

Can’t See the Forest (from my Childhood)

 

My grandmother’s paddy fields were a magical place. I have an enduring memory of being so small that the stalks of paddy were taller than me. Entirely engulfed in them, all I could see was a green forest that stretched endlessly. I felt safely cocooned within its embrace. Mesmerized, my attempt to discern how far this everglade stretched was thwarted by the firm grip of my grandmother’s hand around my little one. 

Wood-Person (2019)


“There might be snakes,” she cautioned, not knowing that this simultaneously frightened me but also made me want to catch sight of a reptile. I wondered if snakes could swim, because the water in the fields had covered my feet entirely. Ankle-deep in rainwater, my sandals got stuck in the mud. My grandmother’s attempts to free me resulted in a sucking sound as the wet earth let go of the rubber soles of my slippers. We both laughed.

A neighbor hoisted me up on his shoulders so I could see above the swaying stalks. Folks from around the village were gathered in the field. Some of them were hunched over as they inspected the crop while others were occupied in conversation. A group of teenagers were wading in a section of the field where the water level was higher than elsewhere. They were clustered around something that I was unable to see. Whatever it was, it was causing them to shriek excitedly as they splashed about. Then, when one of the youths moved away from the group, I caught sight of my father. He was paddling a raft that the teens were taking turns getting into.

Even before I could ask, my grandmother cautioned sternly: “No, don’t even think about it. You’re too small.” It’s funny… While everything else about that day is still so vivid, what eludes me now is what the boat my father was in looked like. All I can imagine is a vessel made of plastic bottles, the kind that tourists drink from and leave behind at the seaside or discard on the streets.

Ask most people about Goa and they will tell you that the first thing that comes to mind are its beaches. But not for me. What I consider most synonymous with my homeland, that which I hold closest despite not having been born there, are its green fields. Somehow, the agricultural past that sustained my family for generations has imprinted itself upon me.

Once, on a visit to Goa as an adult, a friend who was driving slowed down to point out a series of wooden structures that were visible in the recently harvested fields that spread on either side of the path we were on. “Those are–” And before he could complete his observation, I interjected: “khazans.” He nodded in affirmation. But I did not know where this word came to me from. I had never uttered it before, leave alone had any knowledge of what khazan lands were.

An ancient sluice gate arrangement made only of wooden parts and operated by the force of the tides, the entirely unmechanized khazan system allowed for the reclamation of land, often from saltwater. In some parts of Goa, one can still view these antique innovations at work. One can still see village communities caring for their fields. But these vignettes, like an image on aging celluloid, are rapidly fading from sight. 

 

Xippas-KarishmaDSouza-expo-101023-JulienGremaud-027R-400k-v2
Gallery view at Xippas Geneva


 

An angry lament sounds in my head.

Pave

Pave over fields

Over stalks of paddy

Grains of rice

What do you need them for?

That great red hill

Gouge it out

Pave over the ocean

So also the river

And these springs

Of no use are they

Pave over this forest

It has outlived its usefulness

This endless road

Will take you everywhere

 

Until there’s nowhere left to go

 

There is a word in Portuguese that has become so ingrained in Goan culture as to be inseparable from it now. Famously, the word saudades has no equivalent in English and is supposed to mean, all at once, loss, yearning, and nostalgia. I think this is a dissemblance. This achingly beautiful, melancholic word shirks its own meaning out of shame for what the truth might reveal. Could nostalgia hold up to self-scrutiny were it truly to divulge to itself the depths of its hidden recesses?

 

What became of those that labored in the fields of my childhood? Those Gawda women who hiked up their chequered saris above their knees, heads exposed to the noonday sun as they squatted on their haunches… Their labor made possible the food on many tables, but how many were invited to sit at them? Agriculture is not just tradition but hard work. Sometimes, it is also injustice and a reckoning to be had. The environment cannot be saved without its caregivers.

When one can’t see the forest for the trees

another vision is necessary

 

Karishma D’Souza’s exhibition captures a moment of crisis in contemporary South Asia with a particular focus on a rapidly transforming Goa, her ancestral homeland. The artist looks to the challenges of tourism and urbanization that threaten the very topography of a Goa famed for its biodiversity, coastal beauty, and once fields of plenty. The decimation of this storied landscape means a change in traditions and livelihoods. At the same time as many from the region pursue jobs elsewhere, settlers from other parts of India move in or take up land for second homes and a leisurely lifestyle. Yet, D’Souza does not only seek to chronicle wistfulness or angst. Rather, her work also takes inspiration from activists and those who make their own way despite being marginalized. Thus, her art offers a record and an alternative view of the present.

 

Memories of Mollem (2023)

 

 

From the Xippas Geneva exhibition website.