This piece was published by a Goa daily 15+ years ago. Clearly, the attitude of the staff has not changed. Nor for that matter the utter disrespect with which priceless ancient documents are treated:


Aal izz “Sit” in Goa’s State Archives

 

By Bernardo de Sousa

 

Any visit to Goa needs to start with a wallet refueling stop at a bank. Having connections speeds up that process. In the Mapusa bank we went to, a lady was seated at a desk, dozing peacefully; she suddenly woke up, picked up a ball, rolled it on the desk, then returned to dozing. We later learnt that banks are required to hire personnel belonging to scheduled castes/tribes. Being a local bank, this occurs through the intercession of an MLA: the candidate controlling the largest number of votes gets the job.  A win-win situation:  our aspiring athlete gets a salary, the MLA gets the votes. Thus, “vote bank” politics ensure the “upliftment” of the downtrodden. 

 

My contact at the bank being away, I was instructed to head upstairs. The scene was chaotic: no boards indicating which counter handled which transaction, people rushing to any counter that was manned. An acquaintance said he would call Mr. X and guided us to a pair of chairs with a parting instruction: “Sit” -- an instruction I would repeatedly encounter in Goa with devastating consequences. 

 

After about an hour, I managed to obtain from Mr. X the prized ATM card that, sadly, failed to function until our departure. For expediency, we cashed traveler’s cheques at Vivanta hotel in Panaji, where the transaction absorbed all of three minutes flat -- the most efficient and friendliest service I have ever encountered anywhere on the planet. 

Our wallet thus replenished, we headed to the State Archives, Panaji, where I wished to consult a list of historical documents. 

 

We were greeted at the ground floor by an overpowering smell of naphthalene, attempting unsuccessfully to mask the odours from the nearby toilet. The strong influence of carnival in Goa is not to be underestimated – a vote bank mask at the bank, a naphthalene mask at the State Archives.

 

The clerk at a counter instructed me to go upstairs to see the manager. I did not quite comprehend why but arguments would only waste time. We were invited into the manager’s cramped office. “Sit!” he instructed. Not again! After reading my list, he confirmed that the documents were public; we were thus in violent agreement but the documents still eluded me. 

 

I was now instructed to cross the corridor to the public documents section; as we did so, we saw a lady sitting on a bench, resting one of her feet on it, blissfully cutting her toe-nails. I did not need an explanation: another vote bank mask with an aspiring beautician replacing an aspiring athlete. 

 

In the public domain, five persons were seated at five desks, engaged in deep conversation, otherwise doing nothing. I showed one of them the titles of the documents. She looked at it and shouted to her colleague a few meters away. Having been disdainfully ignored twice, she approached the recalcitrant colleague, exchanged a few furious words, returned, turned to me and ordered: “Sit”. 

 

Decidedly, “sit” was becoming the bane of my short holiday. In my mind, I silently slipped an “h” in between the “sit” but refrained from vocalising my thought.

 

Explaining to us children the intricacies of traditional Goan hospitality, our father once recounted that guests were routinely greeted with the Konkani phrase: “Ailoi, io, bosloi, bos, kashti sodd, lepti kha” – loosely translated “you have arrived, please come in, sit down, loosen your loin-cloth, share our food”. I did not expect these five uncooperative chair-warmers to share their food but there was no escaping the instruction to sit. I politely but resolutely declined. The lady repeated her instruction except that this time it was an order: “Sit”. 

 

The situation was turning hopeless. Asked how long this was going to take, she muttered: “5 minutes”. My heart sank: in Goa, 5 minutes encompass any span between 5 minutes and eternity. I heard my wife say that she had been handed a form that I was required to complete hence, sitting down may not be a bad idea. Her pragmatic logic carrying the day, I sat down, opened the small rucksack containing my pen and other items. “You have to keep your bag downstairs,” said the recalcitrant librarian, who had just concluded his yogic meditation and was back in command barking out his orders. 

 

I explained to him that I had carried my rucksack all this time from the counter downstairs, transiting through his manager’s office into the public documents section, without anyone’s objection until then. He repeated his order, this time raising his voice. Another mask, what was his bark really masking? Resentment because I was an NRI, PIO or OCI? Or because I had not presented him with a motivating incentive in an envelope? 

 

Do they still insist on envelopes, or would plain cash do? Or was he another vote bank beneficiary who resented having been disturbed from his reverie or conversation? I had had enough of this rude, uncooperative, unhelpful, obstructionist and bureaucratic attitude of the Goa State Archives staff. I got up, returned the form to the lady who had given it, and walked out. 

 

Back in the taxi, our friend suggested visiting the Central Library instead. Indeed, I was led to the relevant section immediately - and could finally consult and photograph the documents of interest. I now understood why the Central Library was so well frequented whereas, excepting staff, not a soul other than my wife, our friend and I were present at the public documents section of the State Archives. 

 

This time around, when a kindly member of the Central Library staff pulled up a chair and asked me to sit, I was delighted to comply.


Sent from my iPad

On 1 May 2023, at 19:20, 'Carvalho' via Goa-Research-Net <[email protected]> wrote:


Dear Albertina,

I totally agree with you. I didn't want to say it in my initial message. Technology would certainly help and is the need of the hour as those books under no circumstances should be passed around like pie to men jabbing felt pens at them, but the more important thing is attitude. There are lots of things one can do ease the process. For instance there is one (just one) moth-eaten catalogue which looks like it survived Noah's flood, used by one clerk to find out the reference number of the required document. All that needs to be done is print out 10 catalogue books and keep them for use by the general public. Or better still upload the catalogue online and make it accessible. Then the public can provide the clerk with the reference number. All it takes is the will power to improve systems. There needs to be a very radical change in attitude in every organisation. The Gandhian non-cooperation movement in Goa is alive and kicking.

And Sandra, absolutely, being a woman doesn't help.

Also what is up with those pens being allowed into an archive hall for goodness sake? I had carried a book and pencil inside to make notes. This was shouted down (fair enough, rules are rules) but for goodness sakes, the pens must go.

Take care,
Selma


On Monday, 1 May 2023 at 17:44:00 BST, Albertina Almeida <[email protected]> wrote:


Is there anyone here who accessed the Goa Archives about 35 years or more ago? Where it was accessible even without technology? I somehow think that it is not just about technology, though technology certainly can help. It is also about a regimen of corruption, which can persist even with technology.

For instance, at the Registrar's office, the process towards registration of sale deeds has been digitised. One would have thought that would make it easier. But approvals of what is uploaded can take sooooo long for some. And the connectivity and other issues including the website being dysfunctional, so to say, can make life hell. The whole exercise can be a nightmare. 

So while technology can help, it may not be the panacea. There is something more.

Albertina

On Mon, May 1, 2023 at 9:55 PM sandra lobo <[email protected]> wrote:
He/She is precious, or just a piece of a shameful state of affairs, particularly at Goa archives? Of course Selma being a women does not help the situation. For instance, if  one does not hold Indian citizenship then has to pay seven times the price of copying documents, as if researchers swim in money. The present head of the Archives, Dipak M. Bandekar, should be confronted with being runing a historical archive in a modern world. My experience is that sometimes conversation works miracles (not always). I hope there are still good examples in Goa, as that of Central Library when under Carlos Fernandes direction. Without his positive attitude I would have never been able to perform the ample investigation of my PhD. Good luck, Selma



Sandra Ataíde Lobo  

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https://giepcip.wordpress.com/

tmn. ++351 930690459



De: [email protected] <[email protected]> em nome de John de Figueiredo <[email protected]>
Enviado: 1 de maio de 2023 16:43
Para: [email protected] <[email protected]>
Assunto: Re: [GRN] Update about Goa Archives
 
Dear Selma,
Please get the name and contact information of the person who helped you. He/she is precious.
Best wishes,
John

Sent from my iPhone

On May 1, 2023, at 2:25 AM, 'Carvalho' via Goa-Research-Net <[email protected]> wrote:


Dear all,

Thank you for the numerous helpful response regarding Goa Archives. I did indeed visit the Goa Archives. I arrived at 10am and sat patiently for an hour. Eventually someone recognised me as the writer and hastened my entry into the archive hall. This office defied any semblance of modernity and had an estranged relationship with technology. By some antediluvian method, I ordered a documented assisted by person who recognised me. I then took a seat and awaited said document. I sat in a hall full of men who pored over centuries-old documents with their arms spread on these books, brandishing felt pens, the documents spine straddled without support. After I saw this, I felt nausea creeping up and tried to avoid eye contact with anyone, most of all the clerks in the room. 

I sat for another one hour and could see all the peons chatting but no document had arrived. I went to the head clerk and asked about the possible arrival of my book. He nodded to a peon, they laughed, and one frail creature departed on his search with all the enthusiasm of a man being led to the guillotine. Finally he returned clutching the holy grail of a book but when I took custody, it was the wrong book. I went to tell the manager who sat in a class cabin with the surly look of a government officer, pressing a buzzer to summon people. He dismissed by not looking up. I did not wait for the right document because had it arrived, I could neither photograph it nor photocopy it. I would have to make an application for the record and collect it 15 days later. So I left.

Every department, institution and organisation of governance in Goa (and unfortunately I have had to visit many) is a failure of efficiency, procedure, custody and care. We are light years away from any semblance of modernity and our sense of Goan exceptionalism is utterly misplaced.

The story does have a happy ending. The man who recognised me researches records for a living and I shall simply hire his services.

Take care,
Selma

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