Olden-day weather forecast � Monsoon preparation and provision � Part 3 (Final)

[domnic fernandes]

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CONVENTION OF THE GOAN DIASPORA FROM GOA INTO THE WORLD
Lisbon, Portugal June 15-17, 2007 Details at: 
http://www.casadegoa.org 
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Olden-day weather forecast – Monsoon preparation and provision – Part 3 
(Final)

FIREWOOD PROVISION

The most difficult part of the year was the rainy season because everything 
gets wet, and wet wood is not as good as dry firewood.  Therefore, people 
had to plan in advance and make firewood provision for the monsoon season.

In the beginning of May, people gathered dry leaves, filled them in 
“zabl’le” (large expandable net-type bags with diagonal holes about 4”W X 
6”L made of coir) and stored them in a firewood store.  People preferred 
cashew leaves because of their flatness – it enabled them to pack more of 
these leaves in layers in a zabl’lo.

Cashew leaves also catch fire easily and produce a strong fire.  During the 
monsoon, as soon as people woke up, they would go to the firewood store, 
take a handful of “folieo,” place them in the “chul” and light them with a 
match stick.  As soon as the leaves caught fire, some “xirput’tam” (small 
firewood sticks) were added and that got the fire going.

Next, we either cut the tips of “chuddttam” or detached dried leaves from a 
“chuddet” with a koito (machete), arranged them into small bundles and tied 
them up with a fresh keimeacho gabo (a pealing from banana tree trunk).

Similarly, we would cut pid’de (coconut tree frond heads) into two pieces 
lengthwise, dry them and arrange them into small bundles.  Also, mad’dachi 
pistori (sheath) and mad’dachi poi (spathe) are very good to start a fire.  
These, too, were arranged in bundles and stored.

As for “xirputtam”, people gathered as much as they could from trees in the 
village and brought the rest from the hills.

Once the month of April began, people from the ward, including children, got 
together and went on the hill to collect firewood; they went in groups so 
nobody could attack them, as in those days, professional robbers lived in 
caves on Anjuna hills.  Even if one had money, s/he had to join in the trip 
to the hill because in those days everything was done in groups.  If anyone 
refused, that person would be counted out for all purposes.

For example, people did not charge wages to work in the fields but they 
worked in each other’s fields by taking turns and thus provided free service 
to each other.  But if anyone backed out, s/he was kind of excommunicated; 
this happened very rarely.  The unity in a village in those days was very 
strong.  Unlike today, nobody could separate relatives and neighbors easily.

People mostly went on the hill in the afternoon say at around 4:00 p.m. and 
returned home by 6:30 p.m.  They carried with them a “koito” (machete) to 
cut trees; a “koiti” (sickle) to trim branches, and a large piece of cloth 
to make a “chomddi” (bundle of cloth on which a load is placed on the head.)

The trip was to collect only small firewood – not tree trunks.  People chose 
straight plants because they were easy to arrange into a bundle.  They also 
served as a good base for the load on the head.  The most common plant that 
people went for was “gino” – it is a straight plant, about 5-6 feet tall, 
with black bark and no branches, which meant less trimming, which ultimately 
saved a lot of time; it makes good firewood as it burns quickly.

Once on the hill, people looked around, located bushes and cut plants with 
koito; the helper trimmed branches with a koiti – I did both.  Sometimes one 
person did both the jobs.  When we had cut enough firewood for a bundle, we 
headed to a kombieachem zhadd and pealed off its bark, which is used as 
“gabo” (rope).

We joined together two or three lengths of “gabe” and laid them on the 
ground at a distance of about 1 ½ feet from each other.  We then arranged 
firewood into a pile on four or more lengths.  Each such bundle was called a 
“bhoro” or “bhori”, and each bundle was about 7 feet long.

Lastly, each person stood on either side of the pile, caught hold of “gabo” 
at each end, pulled both the ends in opposite direction, secured the pile 
tightly, fastened “gabo” with a knot and tucked extra ends into the bundle.  
Those who came alone sought help from others.

Once firewood bundles were ready, people loaded them on each one’s head with 
a “chomddi” underneath.  The last person had to lift his/her “bhoro” by 
himself/herself.  S/he placed one end of the “bhoro” at a rock, placed 
his/her head in the middle of the “bhoro” and then slowly pushed it upward 
thus tilting the equilibrium and balancing the bundle on the head.  The 
koito and koiti were pressed into the bhoro on top side.

Many local women laborers did this (collect firewood from the hills) as a 
means of living and it was they who often got into private properties 
instead of going on the hill.  They sold “bhore” to people, including 
bhattkars, at a nominal charge.  Children also carried little “bhori” 
commensurate to their weight.

The cutting of firewood, trimming and bundling it up was the easy part.  The 
difficult part was to walk down the steep hill, which was full of “xenkaro” 
(gravel).  One had to have a firm grip on the ground and balance the load on 
the head.  You can imagine the result if one slipped off and fell down with 
the heavy bundle tumbling upon!  This is why even those who could afford to 
wear slippers did not wear them while on this mission; bare feet were in a 
better position to take charge of the ground than with slippers on.

With heavy load on the head, it was difficult to look at your feet; so, one 
had to look straight, keep the hurdles ahead in mind and avoid them as one 
got closer.  Sometimes one even hopped a bit when s/he came across a big 
stone lying in the middle of the path!  Once people reached home, they kept 
the “bhoro” upright against a tree or stone pedestal; if left on the ground 
overnight, white ants sometimes invaded the firewood.

It is easy to cut wood while it is fresh.  Therefore, the next morning 
people sat on a “bankin” (small wooden seat) and cut the firewood with a 
koito.  It was left to dry for a week and then tied into bundles according 
to sizes and stored in firewood store.

There is a saying in Konkani:  “Dongra voilim zaddam Dev ximpta” (God takes 
care of (waters) the trees on a hill/mountain).  Isn’t this a wonder?  
Despite regularly watering the plants/trees in our garden, they die, but the 
trees on the hills/mountains keep on growing and form thick jungles.  The 
saying applies to trees on hills/mountains as well as to people who believe 
in God.  If there was no firewood freely available on the hills, how do you 
think people would have survived in those days?

PROVISION OF “KANTTIEAM” (BROKEN LOGS)

The next firewood provision was “kanttieam” (broken logs).  For this, people 
went around in the village looking for any felled trees, which they bought 
and brought home on a “gaddo” (bullock cart).

A laborer would then be hired to break the firewood which sometimes took as 
long as a week depending on the quantity and nature of the wood - whether 
the wood was dry or fresh; dry wood is difficult to break, whereas fresh 
wood breaks easily.  Mango tree wood is easy to break.  Here again, 
“kanttieam” were left to dry in an open space.  All the firewood had to be 
thoroughly dried otherwise it would be eaten by white ants.

We hired a laborer to break wooden logs once a year when we made monsoon 
firewood provision; otherwise, I broke the wood regularly with a kurad 
(axe).  Actually, my mother did not allow me to break wood for fear the axe 
might slip and cut/break my legs but I did it anyway because I wanted to try 
my hand at everything.

Whenever a carpenter was hired to do carpentry work at home, we collected 
the “kisuv” (wood scraping), packed it in a sak (gunny bag) and stored it in 
the khomp for use in the monsoon.  Kisuv is very useful in starting a new 
fire.

Today, hardly anyone goes on the hill to fetch firewood, as most everyone 
uses gas/electric stoves.

PROVISION OF “TORANCHIM SOLAM ani PADD’DDE”

“Toranchim solam ani padd’dde” was one of the monsoon provisions.  People 
use them for curry, especially “sukea sungttanchi vo galmeachi koddi” (dry 
prawn curry) and even for “sovrak vo ankvar koddi” (curry without fish); 
they serve as good appetizer, especially during the summer.

Believe me, “kochkochit” prawn curry with “suko pad’do” (dried mango seed) 
tastes the best!  As children, whenever we got a suko pad’do at lunch, we 
would keep on leaking and sucking it until it was dry!  I still love 
toranchea solanchi koddi and never miss it while on my vacation.

The process of making “solam” is quite simple:

Cut unripe mangoes into large slices, prepare “agor” (a mixture of water and 
salt) in a container and dip the slices as well as “padd’dde” (seeds) in it. 
 The process is called “torank agor divop.”

Soak them  overnight.  Remove them from the container the next morning and 
put them to dry in the hot sun.  Once dried, store them in a container with 
a cover.

PROVISION OF “CHEPNNENCHIM TORAM”

We then have “CHEPNNENCHIM TORAM” (raw sour mangoes), which are used to make 
a special pickle called “lonnchem.”  In Salcete, people call it “achar.”  
During my childhood, when I visited my maternal grandmother in Benaulim and 
asked for “lonnchem” at kanji or lunch, they would make fun and tease me by 
saying: “Lonnchem, dakoi tujem pondchem!”  “Lonnchem” lasts for over a year 
and it was one of the essential provisions of monsoon season.

As far as I remember, the process is as follows:

Prepare around 50 “chepnnenchim toram” (tender green mangoes) with stems 
intact, and add about 6 cups of salt and arrange them in a container.  Crush 
about 6 grams of “ing” (asafetida), mix it with about 6 spoons of turmeric 
powder and sprinkle the mixture over the mangoes.  Add whole chilies without 
removing the stems.  Place a heavy weight on the mangoes and keep them for 
about a week, turning the mangoes and sprinkling a handful of salt water on 
them every two or three days.

Then, pour everything (the grime, mangoes, chilies, etc.) into a big dry jar 
and place large, clean “paxanni fator” (smooth stones from the seashore) on 
the top of mangoes inside the jar.  Paxanni fator can remain in the jar for 
as long as the mangoes are in it.  This pickle can be served within a few 
days.  You may want to wash the pickle before serving to get rid of 
saltiness.

Besides using lonnchem for food, as children we also used it whenever we 
took Epsom Salt as “bhairi” (purgative.)  Before we took the bhairi, we 
would keep a couple of slices of “chepnnenchem lonnchem” ready in a plate 
and as soon as we gulped down the bhairi, we would place lonnchem in the 
mouth.  Its sourness kind of killed the bitterness of bhairi and kept us 
from vomitting.

I love chepnnenchem lonnchem, which my sister prepares and keeps ready for 
me.  In the olden days, lonnchem was always served with “kanji” (soft rice).

Lonnchem is mostly prepared by women.  If a woman is unclean, she is not 
supposed to prepare or touch it.  If she does, they say it is bound to get 
spoiled.  The same rule applies while preparing “para” (fish pickle.)  
Believe it or not!

Both these pickles were monsoon provisions in the past, and still continue 
to be with many communities in Goa.

PORSUM LAVOP (ORCHARD PLANTATION) – Provision of onions and chilies

Today, if you need onions or chilies you just step in a grocery shop and buy 
your requirements.  While chilies are available in most grocery stores, 
onions are sold even on foot-paths around Mapusa and other markets.

It’s true we were financially poor in the Fifties and Sixties but we were 
self-sufficient in food items, as we lived on home-grown produce.

Goans are basically farmers and fishermen.  This being the case, we never 
ran short of grains or fish.  We worked in the fields, filled our barns with 
paddy and the whole family lived on it happily throughout the year.

We husked paddy and used it for everyday rice and kanji.  We planted coconut 
trees around our houses and harvested enough coconuts.  We used coconut 
kernel to prepare curry, vegetables, oil, etc.

If you want to prepare “churnachi koddi” (kernel curry), you need many 
ingredients like chilies, onions, tomatoes, fresh coriander, etc.  We didn’t 
buy these – we grew them in our home garden or in the fields.

Once rainy season comes to an end, the earth gradually dries up.  Around the 
month of November, people from each ward got together and planned orchard 
plantation.

Gaumvaddy residents planted orchards in three places – in our fields behind 
“Avoichem dukorn” (Avoi’s taverna); across the “vhall” in Chinvar in a place 
called “rumbddar” – named after a big “rumbod” (fig tree), which was located 
by the “vhall” - we ate “rumbddachim follam” (figs) after we were through 
watering plants.  The third place was in late Captain Jack’s property where 
his son, Cruz, has now built houses.

To plant an orchard one needs water.  We got it from a nearby “onddo” 
(puddle) in the first two places and from a well in Captain Jack’s property.

In those days, most people owned cattle like cows, buffaloes, goats, etc., 
which is why it was difficult to cultivate anything in an open area - some 
kind of protection was needed.  We enclosed the area by raising a wall of 
clods.

It is quite easy to raise a clod-wall.  While one person digs and picks up 
whole clods with a hoe, the other person fetches water from a puddle, pours 
it into a “khonddkul” (pit), mixes the mud with a hoe and applies the 
“rebodd” (mire) on the ridge; clods are then placed on the mire.

Just as it takes several days to build stone walls, it takes around a week 
to build a clod-wall.  Every day, a couple of lines are added.  The height 
of the wall has to be at least 5 feet so as to avoid cattle from looking 
inside the orchard and feeling tempted to break in.

Onions and chilies are planted in “foddam” (squares in a paddy field marked 
by ridges).  Building of clod-wall is shared according to number of “foddam” 
(squares) taken up by each individual – the more “foddam” one occupies the 
more the length of a “paro” s/he is required to build.  Once a wall is built 
all around the area, an opening is kept for entrance on the side of the 
puddle, which is fixed with a door made of bamboo frame and sticks.

Once the wall is complete, work begins from inside the enclosure like 
digging the field and breaking the clods into fine pieces.  Each square is 
further divided into several smaller squares.  Trenches are made in the top 
of the bed four inches deep.  “Gobor” (ash) is strewn as fertilizer which is 
then covered with two inches of soil.  “Mirsangancheo ani ulicheo rompieo” 
(small chili and onion plants) are then planted in smaller squares.

When the place inside the wall was ready, Gaumvaddy women walked to Chinvar 
on an evening with a “panttlo” (basket) on their waist to bring chili and 
onion plants.  They bought and uprooted the plants, placed them in their 
baskets and brought them home.  Before retiring to bed, the plants were 
treated with a light shower of water.  Early next morning they picked up the 
baskets and headed to the orchard to transplant them.

In order to transplant these plants, you need a small “kuddoll” (pickaxe) 
with which you dig trenches – for onion plants you dig a trench every 3 
inches apart, and for chili plants every 6 inches apart.  Plants are placed 
in trenches and their roots covered by pulling over the soil.

Various types of vegetable seeds, like tambddi ani dhovi bhaji, mulle, 
tomatam, vaingim, norkol, cob, cauliflower, konfiri, etc., were strewn on 
the smaller ridges within the bed.  All plants are watered.

The orchard needs watering every day and this job has to be done early in 
the morning – the earlier the better in order to avoid tiredness due to 
sweating.  People therefore got up before dawn and by the time the sun was 
up they would return home.  We woke up very early, finished our studies and 
headed for the orchard at dawn-break.  When we finished watering the plants, 
we returned home, had breakfast and proceeded to school.  We didn’t have to 
go for orchard plantation because my father was employed abroad but we did 
it to give company to others.

It is not enough just to plant an orchard; one has to care for it and supply 
fertilizer every now and then.  In those days everything was natural, 
including fertilizer.  Goans buy fish daily. After the cat was served its 
share, the remaining fish waste was collected and placed in a “buddkulo” 
(clay pot), which had some water in it.  Its opening was closed with a 
coconut shell and a stone kept in it so cats couldn’t open it.  Similarly, 
whenever fish was available in plentiful, we bought some and dumped it in a 
“gobri” (ash-pit) where it melted and turned into fertilizer.

When plants were three weeks old, home-made fertilizer was supplied.  Our 
mother removed the fertilizer from the “buddkulo” with a coconut-shell spoon 
and transferred it into another empty “buddkulo”.  The fertilizer was so 
strong that its smell created a nauseous feeling and caused a headache.

We carried the fertilizer to the orchard in the evening and distributed it 
evenly.  The color of leaves changed from normal to dark green within less 
than a week, which was confirmation that fertilizer was effective.

Within another two weeks, we collected the mixture of fertilizer from the 
ash-pit, carried it to the orchard in a “panttlo” and distributed it evenly 
at the base of plants.  When fertilizer is supplied, one cannot afford to 
miss to water the plants or else they die.

Onions are fully mature when their tops have fallen over.  When this is 
noticed, watering is stopped.  After a few days, onions are slowly pulled 
from the ground, taken home and left to dry.

Once the ends dry up, they are tied together into a “movlli” (fagot).  
Fagots are then tied into pairs and placed on a horizontal bamboo stick 
which is hung from the rafters with the help of wire - coir rope was avoided 
because rats would cut it.  Onions, if left on the floor for long, get 
spoiled; hence, they are hung as explained above.

Onion is one of the important cooking ingredients, at least to people of 
Indian origin.  No dish can be cooked without it; if cooked without, it 
doesn’t taste the same.

Few years ago, there was shortage of onions in India and the government had 
to import large quantities from overseas countries.  The shortage caused 
such uproar that even the government in Delhi lost elections.  Is the onion 
so powerful?

Not only that; the one that cuts onion has to shed tears!  Are you crying 
now?

Onion is not only used for cooking purposes but in the olden days it was 
also used to write secret love letters.  It was not so easy to fall in love 
then; it was much more difficult to write love letters.  Here is how lovers 
wrote letters, which, even if caught, could not be read.  How is it 
possible?  Very easy!

Extract onion juice and place it in a small cup.  Dip an eagle’s feather or 
porcupine’s quill (these were yesteryear pens) or a fountain pen in the cup 
and write whatever you wish on a white paper.  The writing dries up and 
cannot be seen.  Forward the piece of paper to your lover.  Subject the 
paper to heat above a lamp or flame.  As the piece of paper gets heated, the 
writing turns yellowish and becomes visible and legible.

Chilies begin to ripe by the beginning of March.  We took great pleasure in 
plucking them because they were the fruits of our toil.  We would bring 
chilies home and put them to dry either on a gunny bag or mat or in a 
“khollem”.

When chilies were thoroughly dried, we packed them in large tins with a lid 
and placed them in a corner in the storeroom.  Moira village is famous for 
“musureo mirsango” (small chilies), and Aldona village for “motteo mirsango” 
(fat chilies).

Chili and onion harvest would be over by the end of March or early April 
after which we would get rid of the wall.  Before that, we plucked whatever 
raw chilies were left on the plants, took them home and ground them into 
green chutney, which the whole family enjoyed for 3-4 days along with dry 
fish fried in embers with a tinge of oil.  Hmm!  My mouth is already 
watering!

After we had cleared/plucked vegetables from all the plants, we finally 
brought down the wall.  The plants that were out of reach of the cattle all 
those months due to clod-wall were suddenly exposed and became their feed.

Those who had a water-well at home planted the same vegetables, including 
onions and chilies in their compound in the summer; they reaped double 
vegetables.  Besides, they also planted other eatables like sweet-potatoes, 
wild potatoes, ground-nuts, etc.  Yes, we planted all these at home which 
was why we lived happily 12-months of the year.

Thus, our homes in the past were always full of grains and other essential 
commodities.  The fruits of our hard labor were seen in the kitchen every 
day.  Yes, we had to go through a lot of hardship to make the provision but 
we also derived satisfaction from it.

Education has now caught on due to which hardly anyone goes for agriculture 
or orchard plantation.  Today’s generation feels ashamed to work in a garden 
or field.  But they forget that we can’t live without grains and vegetables. 
 There is an old saying which goes thus:  “Kam’ korunk loz nhoi, punn 
chorunk loz.”  (There’s no shame in working but it’s shameful to resort to 
stealing).

It’s shame for us to beg others what we need.  Remember, “Apunn moronk zai 
ani sorg bhogunk zai”.  (One has to die and go to heaven).  You can’t expect 
somebody else to die for you in order to go to heaven.  It’s high time we 
made use of our limbs and planted at least a few vegetables in our backyard.

Let us embrace agriculture and be self-sufficient.

Children, who went to school in those days hardly enjoyed their summer 
holidays because there was a lot of work to do, as monsoon provision was 
made during the months of April and May.

Today, one would rather sit and watch a movie or TV serial rather than help. 
 In the past, relatives, who visited during April/May, didn’t simply idly 
sit by but pitched in and helped the host in whatever they did.  Women never 
rested; even after lunch, they did light work like weaving of “kon’nam” 
(coconut leaves), making an “iranchi saron” (broom from stalk stem), 
preparing “sumb” (coir rope); weaving a “zabl’lo; etc.

That’s all for now from Dom’s antique shelf!

Moi-mogan,

Domnic Fernandes
Anjuna/Dhahran, KSA

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