HEY YOU HAVE RE WRITTEN MY MEMORIES OF DHOBITALAO
On Fri, Sep 30, 2011 at 7:51 PM, eric pinto <[email protected]> wrote: > > > > > > > >________________________________ > > > > > > > > > >________________________________ > > > >In a certain generation not too long ago, if you said Dhobitalao, you > meant Little Goa. > >>> > >>>In Toronto, Canada where I live, there is little Italy, little Greece, > little Portugal, little India and even, just outside of Toronto, an entire > suburb (officially called Brampton) known as Khalistan, where all the > Sardars live. > >>>Brampton used to be a farming area populated by whites, until the > Sardars moved in. Now it is a place which abounds in Punjabi samosas, > sarson-ka-saag and 'lawyers' who 'help' you with settling personal injury > car accident claims. But you will not find any little Goa. > >>> > >>>Now, to get back to Dhobitalao. > >>> > >>>That area of Bombay was home to a large dhobi migrant community from UP > that worked from a pond that was originally built by the Parsis to supply > their Agiaries. Over time, as the water got stagnated, they turned it over > to the dhobis who needed exactly such a spot to base their trade in the > city. Eventually, the pond was cemented over and the Parsis built > residential buildings which they gave over as rentals to newcomers in > Bombay. > >>> > >>>It was exactly in such a condition that the first Goans started moving > in. Soon the area was overflowing with Goan migrants who chose to live > together, God knows why, given the crab mentality for which the community is > famed. Not only did they live in harmony, but also in relative peace, > although a typical large family of seven or eight lived in one room no > bigger than 300 to 500 sq feet. > >>> > >>>In that space they hatched, matched and were dispatched. > >>> > >>>Dhobitalao, as I knew it, was Goan enough to be known to the rest of > Bombay and even outside and the Middle East, as the Goan hub outside > Goa. Among well known features of the area were oasis of large rooms of > about 1,500 sq feet or more in very old dilapidated buildings that became > the homes of Goan Village Clubs about which much has been written. What I > will add is, that the living conditions there were absolutely pathetic. But > then, living in Portuguese Goa of the time was equally so, despite the large > village spaces. > >>> > >>>If this description has put in your mind a decrepit neighborhood you > would not be entirely wrong, but I have not yet made a reference to the > vibrancy of the place. Dhobitalao was the Bronx of the 1930s. People > hung out their washed clothing to dry and sat on their building terraces. > The terraces were the community arenas where every social celebration took > place. A birthday, a dance and even movie shows. Everyone was invited, both > from the building and everywhere else. Prohibition was in force and Aunty's > famous rotgut was served. > >>> > >>>On one occasion, while learning German from a Saligao resident of Indra > Bhuvan , I was called to watch a movie on the terrace. The boys running the > projector sat precariously with their equipment on a small patch on the > roof, the white painted wall was the screen and the bar was lined along one > side. > >>> > >>>There were all kinds of home cooked snacks on a table and everybody sat > hunched on the floor in the dark of an 8 pm evening. I don't remember the > name of the movie, but it was smuggled in by the Goan usher of the nearby > Metro cinema. There > >>>was dancing after the movie but by then I had left as I had a long hike > back home to Byculla. > >>> > >>>Dhobitalao's Main Street extended from the Sonapur Church (Dolours) to > Crawford market, a distance of about 1 km. Along the way were butcher shops > selling fresh pork, and the famous C D'Souza's and Vienna restaurants which > were frequented by lonely sailors between trips. > >>> > >>>They served excellent Goan-Bombay fusion food at ridiculously low > prices. In 1965, you could get a plate of sorpotel, a loaf of bread and > Crumb Chops (pork chops fried with batter and bread crumbs) followed by a > plate of rice with fish curry and a fried mackerel on the side. It was > excellent value. > >>> > >>> On Dhobitalao streets, other restaurants abounded. Along Main Street > were also a couple of wax candle shops. Thinking about it now, I > >>> wonder what kept them in business. Perhaps it was the yearly fairs at > which body parts made of wax were sold. Main Street was the show-piece of > Dhobitalao. Other side streets were not so clean nor as spacious. > >>> > >>>There were the Wellington Terraces, a group of four buildings within a > rough stony compound that was a village all by itself. Everybody in > Dhobitalao had a relative or villager in Wellington. Outside Wellington were > all sorts of trades-people - tailors, darners, cobblers and others. All > were excellent craftsmen and I remember my dad taking me to a > >>>cobbler there to custom make my leather shoes even though we lived in > Byculla. Perhaps part of the reason might have been the opportunity to visit > one of his friends where a glass of hooch was assured. > >>> > >>>Within Dhobitalao on the southern and eastern ends, were the Irani > restaurants about which the Canadian-Goan writer Marcos Catao has recently > written. Two of them were Sassanian and Bastani. They made the best bread > puddings and the most flaky and light meat patties that melted on your > tongue. The pani-kum chai was a great chaser to these snacks. > >>> > >>>A little beyond Bastanis was the standing place of the 'Dhobitalao > Bandsters'. These were not band members but individual musicians who waited > to be hired for any wedding or other occasion. They were not a cohesive unit > and may never have played with the others, but once they were selected, > without practice, they performed as if they were an accomplished orchestra. > >>> > >>>That is a great thing about Goans. They make awesome musicians. Partly > in the genes and partly due to their village choir-master training, playing > is across the spectrum. In all the great Bombay swing bands of the sixties > and seventies, like Micky Correia, Johnny Baptist, Maurice Concessio, Goody > Seervai, Nelly, Ken Mac and Hal Green, the majority of the musicians were > Goans. Nowhere could this be seen better than in Dhobitalao. > >>> > >>> A walk down the street of any neighborhood, especially after sunset, > would produce harmonious wafting sounds of lilting Portuguese marches and > sambas, tangos, classical mandos, and even Louisana blues and Hollywood > music scores. It was truly a music fest per gratis. > >>> > >>>At the heart of Dhobitalao was the Sonapur (or officially, Dolours) > Church. Women with sleeveless dresses were sent away from the Communion > railing without the host and the ones without veils or scarves on their > heads were publicly berated. Khomeini must have learnt his state-craft from > the Sonapur priests. > >>> > >>>But these same priests did not bother the men folk. These they > considered to be without redemption. As soon as the priest stepped to the > pulpit to start the preaching, the men made off to C. D'Souza's next door > for coffee and cigarettes. What they didn't hear, they didn't care about. > >>> > >>>The vicar even attempted to put a loudspeaker inside C D'Souza's so as > to disturb all conversation there during sermon time, but that only resulted > in coffee-talk rising many decibels higher. Eventually their volumes outdid > the loudspeaker, permeated the church and disturbed the semonizing priest > himself. The vicar conceded defeat and removed the loudspeaker. > >>> > >>>Religious feast processions winding through the streets of Dhobitalao > were very unruly. There would be a massive crowd of people setting out from > the church but as each Aunty's speakeasy was passed along the way, the > numbers of men would get less and less until at the door of the church on > returning, the only males in the procession were either below fifteen > or those banned from their favorite Aunty's bars due to non-payment or the > very frail who wanted nothing but peace with their God whom they were due to > meet soon. > >>> > >>>The boys and girls of Dhobitalao were indoctrinated in the value of > education by their parents, whether they went to the nearby Jesuit school of > St Xavier's or to Little Flower, St Sebastian, St Thresa's or Dolours. They > might have had no place to study except under the dim lights of the > passageways or during late nights with their parents' snores for company, > but they learned their lessons well. Here in Toronto, there are many of > those once-Dhobitalao-youngsters. They are 'solid buggers' now and their > children go for the best higher education there is in Canada. > >>> > >>>When my children were young kids growing up in Canada, we told them to > eat their vegetables and not leave them. My wife used to tell them, "Think > of the starving children in India and finish the dinner." And now they > tell their children, "Finish your homework. Think of the children in India > who would make you starve if you don't!" > >>>Author unknown > > > > > > > > > > > > >
