Wise tales from Moira Frederick Noronha fredericknoron...@gmail.com
This has been called the village of eccentrics; its residents have been dismissed as the Mad Moidekars, or, a bit more diplomatically, termed the 'Wise Fools of Moira'. Prominent writer Jerry Pinto makes this point in his essay here. But then, are the villagers of Moira just the subject of so much envy? Quite possibly. This is something one has long suspected, even if smarter people can indeed be more complicated to deal with anywhere. Take your pick, after reading a new publication, perhaps the first of its kind on this talented village, that came out recently in the form of a colourful souvenir. Most from these parts, meaning Bardez especially, has grown up listening to 'Moidekar' stories (related to the denizens of Moira) and jokes. There's the tale of local villagers trying to feed fertilizer to their church, to make it grow in size. Or another one about them trying to re-align the church by pushing it, collectively. Or even funny errors over Latin words once used at Mass, like O'Salutaris and Allelujah (which can be easily confused with Goan names and Konkani words, to comical effect!) Or take the tale of a man planting rice in a field while seated on a bed, carried by four persons, so that his own feet didn't trample on the seed! And the story of the Moidekkars sending a gift of choice mangoes to the 'Rajah of Goa', but only after tasting each one -- to ensure quality. All these, originally recounted by Prof Lucio Rodrigues (who was part of the Dhempe College around the 1960s), are well illustrated by probably the world's only air vice marshal-cartoonist, Giles Gomes. 'Moira', as this publication is simply called, is an Rs300 priced, well-illustrated (with many classy colour photos) souvenir. It has been brought out to mark the centenary of the oldest village club in Goa, located prominently along the main road connecting Mapusa with Aldona. More than just being a souvenir, it also attempts to be a slender book on a village which should have had more than one devoted to it. So, the formula here has been to weave in memories about the century-old Assoçiação Académica de Moira. Getting access to these can always be a tough task, due to the lack of written records. Added on are photographs of senior citizens who are a decade or two younger than the village club (centurions were unavailable); and a few articles of relevance to the village. The attempt to build a record of the hundred-year-old institution over the decades is challenging. For one, minus our former colonial rulers, we in Goa mostly don't believe in careful record-keeping. Secondly, some of the points made could lead to misunderstandings. The name of the institution -- Assoçiação Académica de Moira -- stresses on its academic orientation. It could perhaps be translated as the Academic Association of Moira (though the editor suggests it means "Academy"). In the souvenir, some pieces stand out. Glenis Maria Mendonça and Jeffrey D'Souza have a detailed and useful feature on the musicians of Moira. Lots of colourful details, from an outline of the noted Micky Correa (1913-2011), to lesser-known but significant contributors to the musical versatility of Moira. It includes ace trumpeters (such as Inacio Caridade Fernandes), church 'mestris' (Issac Mendes), music teachers (Philomena D'Cruz), those who ran music schools (Salazar De Sa), drummers (Xavier 'Paclo' Fernandes, Xisto Pais, Romi Tavares and Cosme Fernandes), band players across India and the globe (Jason Quadros), state-level choir participants, parish choir leaders, gifted musical families (the Lopes Lobos, the Lobos), self-taught violinists and more. Even keyboardists and some young music students. For instance, did you know that an all-girls band, Poison Ivy, with almost all its players from Moira, was a rage in the Goa of the 1990s? Could Moira then be called the Curtorim of Bardez; maybe, if its denizens don't feel offended by a comparison with the richly talented musical village of Salcete. Mendonca and D'Souza regret that some musicians have gone forgotten. Some articles here are reproductions from earlier publications, which suggests hurry at getting the job done, or a lack of time. Which is understandable, of course, because anniversaries happen when everyone is busy leading life. But surely, the next generation of writers, including young ones still in school, has to be built early. Else, our local histories will be little more than a distant memory. Dr Teotonio R de Souza, the late Indo-Portuguese historian, has written an article on Moira way back in 1986. It has aged well, but certainly more needs to be written about unique areas of Goa like these, and get continually updated. The article on Peter Nazareth, by R. Benedito Ferrao, has appeared earlier, and while the limited time could be an alibi, more introductory articles on the prominent people of Moira could have added value. Leroy Marvel Veloso gives an insight into the functioning of a comunidade. Putting this across though can be a challenge; as it involves at least three languages, wading across many scripts, and diverse legal systems dating to pre-Portuguese times. Covering much ground in limited space, he explains what a Comunidade is, their unclear origins, and the role they played when Goa (even a generation ago) gained its sustenance from agriculture. There are also details that the ex-pat Goan might find interesting: who is part of the Comunidade of Moira and in what position. These days, Moira gets mentioned in the context of risks of sea-level rise, Nazar de Silva does well to explains how the talent of past generations helped them understand high and low tides to make more low-lying parts of Goa inhabitable. This is a specially important debate for a village with rivers on many sides. Pio Sequeira, writing on sportspersons, is very detailed, while the ex-Africander Betsy Pinto-Nunes has a reminiscing story of her encounter with Moira way back in 1939 (during World War II) and today. This spirited woman and her spouse Richard have been keeping busy in various ways since their return to Goa from East Africa. David de Souza's photographs grab the reader's attention, striking and technically perfect. These images focus on amazing themes, are well-conceived, and fairly well printed too. Souza, whose talent is yet to be adequately acknowledged across Goa itself, has an amazing series on local biodiversity. Those who have seen his images on Facebook would probably agree that they seem like almost human-crafted modern art rather than insects from the real world! Another set of his images feature senior citizens of Moira, some of whom recall the 'club' over its past century, at different points of time. Needless to say, these are artistic portraits in themselves. The lack of captions and page numbers makes identifying a bit complex though. The publication has a mix of advertising support from the old elite and new settlers, sarpanchas and legislators, builders and villagers, caterers and lawyers, plus others. Needless to say, one could anticipate clashing versions about what diverse segments would like their fast-urbanising village areas to be. A misunderstanding, apparently over some of the text, led, for instance, to a delay in the release of the souvenir. At points, one felt some of the contents in the souvenir could have been better attributed -- it makes it verifiable, and also gives credit where credit is due. Personally, one also feels that a publication of this kind would have benefited from being packaged as a book, rather than a souvenir. Not only would it have had a longer shelf-life, but it could have been taken more seriously too. But that's a personal view. * * * Moira will continue to be Moira, like it or criticise it, one of our special and outlier villages. By now, 'Moira stories' have gone down in legend and lore. Moidekkars often themselves take such yarns in their stride and can share a laugh over the same. Two more just surfaced after reading this book. One is the story of how the village's generously pigmented popular drummer came to be called Paklo. Normally, this is a term used in colour-conscious Goa to describe a light-skinned European type. Yet, Moira sees the world smartly upside down. So, in Moira, a "dark" skinned villager is called Paklo! That too, without having any tinge of racism and not intended to slight. Teh Moidekkar, reh! (They are indeed the denizens of Moira.) An even better one which struck me is the naming a small vaddo (or hamlet) after the former Empire which ruled us for centuries, and also controlled global trade. But hang-on, to encounter a tiny "Novo Portugal" along the main Moira road might today seem like an intended joke on the real nation after which it takes its name. In earlier times, who knows, the wise Moidekar might have even convinced the then ruler that it was a special tribute! * * * Editor Augusto Pinto wonders whether the village club can sustain itself, with the outmigration of its traditional members and arrival of new residents. This could be taken as a reference to the changing power balance that many Goan villages have seen -- due to out- and in-migration. There is a sense of loss that sometimes pervades a publication of this kind. Veloso's piece on the comunidades wonders whether the comunidade will survive at all. With greedy eyes on their assets, he might have a point. Yet, the writer goes on to stress that it's important to anyway "know what our ancestors handed down to us". Karl Pinto Souza and Jeffrey D'Souza rightly highlight concerns over the loss of local biodiversity. One could add one more to this list of worries and concerns. It could be as, or more, important. Do talented and privileged villages do enough to understand and document their past? ### See image at https://www.flickr.com/photos/27593913@N00/50038127241/in/dateposted-public/ An earlier version of this article was published at https://www.navhindtimes.in/wise-tales-from-moira/