GOA’S HERITAGE By Valmiki Faleiro Goa is blessed with abundant archaeological heritage. From the ancient, to that of the Muslim and Portuguese eras. Not much is promoted for tourism. Worse, an insensitive government, down decades, allowed some of the priceless heritage to be vandalized. Last year, I was with a journalist-friend (now with a national newspaper), near Old Goa, the former capital city. It was once the principal trading port of Asia, a city that travelers compared to Lisbon and Rome. It was protected by rivers and manmade moats on all sides. And double fortification walls, the outer and inner one. We went to see extant vestiges of the outer fortification. This huge wall, constructed in oversized laterite stones of that bygone era, had a width of seven to eight metres and a height of four to five metres. It took 17 years to build. It housed the seven entry arches to the city, matching its number of overlooking hills, where visitors were stamped on the shoulder after paying the entry toll. One such, a beautiful archway at the Sao Bras quay, was demolished in the early 1990s – so trucks could ferry across the Cumbarjua canal! Remnants of another, by which Albuquerque stormed into the city in 1510, lie in shambles across the St. Catherine Chapel.
From the point the outer fortification intersected the Raj Bidi (a 65-feet wide, eight kms.
long, paved ‘Royal Road’ between the old capital Govapuri – Pilar/Goa Velha – and the emerging one), the wall proceeded westward through St. Simao (Gancim/’Gaunshi’) and Ribandar, thence along the Mandovi to the docks of the city. Lore says it encompassed Moulem, Santana (Talaulim), Curca, Bolmear, Bambolim, right up to the ‘Cabo’ of the Dona Paula plateau. This western part of the wall, sadly, was long extinct. Parts of its eastern side from the Raj Bidi intersection exist. The fortification ran from Goalim Moula through “Antonio Estevam” (sprawling private properties, the most famous perhaps of some Antonio Estevam!), the Carambolim hill and habitation zone, its vast expanse of ‘Savat’ paddy fields – Petier, Gudier, Panch Manos, Kolva Kator and Daddo. Then along the riverbank to the Banastarim bridges. Thence to Corlim, Gandaulim, Daujim, to join its other end at the city’s docks ... at the “Mandvi” or “Casa de Alfandiga” (Customs House), near the Arch of Conception on “Rua de Mandovi” – the river Mhadei, some say, that was rechristened after the Bijapuri “Mandvi.” Parts of the wall exist in the Carambolim paddies at ‘Panch Manos,’ even if its original height is down to a fraction. Three waterways punctured the wall on this stretch. Over the waterways, the wall rose into massive arches. Their height, as 60-year-old local Menino Melo recollects from his childhood (when the arches were still reminiscent of their old splendour), was some eight metres above the water level. Higher arches meant better visual cover at these susceptible points. Panch Manos has a dozen dwellings. The wall then proceeded eastwards to Mangueiral (“mango orchard”) and Daddo. In the expanse of Carambolim’s flat paddies, Mangueiral and Daddo appear manmade marvels of high ground, like isles in an ocean. Daddo is idyllic, bordered by myriad water bodies – as yet undiscovered by Bollywood, 5-star hoteliers, and casino operators. It has 11 houses. The inner fortification joined this wall at Daddo, an important S-E point in the city’s defense. On raised ground at its turret was barracks for 100 soldiers. The barracks disappeared over time, as did most of the wall. Local resident, Krishna Kuttikar, also about 60, says Goa’s first Chief Minister, DB Bandodkar, vandalized the wall. It seems its huge stones were carted from Daddo to Dona Paula, for the bay’s breakwaters! A piece was leveled for a ferry-crossing road. The city entry arch at Daddo, though, mercifully exists. “That would have also gone,” says Kuttikar, “but nobody dared touch it, not even Bandodkar.” When pressed, Kuttikar whispered the arch was the abode of the ‘Kot-a denvchar,’ demon god of the fort. Whether demon or god helped save that vestige of our heritage, sheer neglect will ensure its early demise. Trees now thrive on it. Once the roots get to the keystone, the arch will be gone. Of the city’s seven arches, only Daddo’s survives in some semblance of shape. It’s a picture-perfect setting for a ‘son-et-lumière’ show on Goa’s history. Kuttikar swears oral traditions in his humble hamlet hold that doorways of the outer fort wall were “bigger than those of the churches in the city.” Those doors, doorways, even large parts of the wall lie vandalized. Its ancient stones were used to build houses. The former city’s churches are now World Heritage. The sentinel that protected them is forlorn and forgotten. Who lights candles to a broken cross? (Ends.) The Valmiki Faleiro weekly column at: http://www.goanet.org/index.php?name=News&file=article&sid=330 ============================================================================== The above article appeared in the May 25, 2008 edition of the Herald, Goa
