Meeting Jo Masacarenhas and Cantoments in Goa.

            Considering we don’t party or socialize much, it’s surprising how many interesting Goans come into our lives. We were at a friend’s home for dinner. This was the first time I’d visited a Naval home and was more curious about the trees and shrubs lining the broad roads and the view of the Mandovi from the hill than about whom I was conversing with. I love military cantonments in India because of the well-preserved and displayed plant life. The hidden fauna occasionally do peep out, but the regular visitors to and inhabitants of the place would benefit by that. But the conversation turned out to be really interesting. First, my hosts were far better informed than I was about Goa’s natural history. Then I met the Mascarenhas family.

            Jo and Sharmila Mascarenhas impressed me because a) they were open about the poor value system in some of Goa’s expensive private schools and b) they felt the daily need to expose their children to people from different economic, religious and ethnic backgrounds. Of all the young parents I’ve met, these have been the only ones who have shared my opinion. Most of the time I find parents more concerned about whom their children will network with when they grow up. They sow the seeds for the contacts they will harvest as adults. Groan. That’s why I found this couple’s point of view refreshing.

            Secondly, Jo, who works with an institution I think is India’s unsung educational success, the ITI, took part in an inter-government hockey tournament. The participation was creditable because of his age: 42 yrs. If he’d been regularly in the circuit, I’d not have had much to say. But this happened over two weeks, and hurriedly put together Goan team with but fifteen days of practice, beat Karnataka 4-1. What’s more, Goa also returned with the trophy for the best march-past. Out of 42 teams, Goa won. Marching involves teamwork, co-ordination, rhythm, smart alertness, and more. My state has all that, it’s the best in India.  I take pride in writing this. Sadly, they told me that the school they had admitted their children into, did not take assemblies and marching seriously enough. I listened to what they had to say because they told me interesting things.

            They told me they ate much of what they grew in a tiny area surrounding their house in a dry neighbourhood of Porvorim. “We have to often buy water as the supply isn’t enough.” My take on this is: in India, we need to have two kinds of water supply. One potable, the other for toilets, cleaning and plants. It takes a lot of energy, money, effort to provide drinking water the consumption of which is much less than for the other uses. If our panchayats/governments/municipalities were to take water resource management seriously, we need never have to buy water privately. One thing needs to be drummed into every Indian head, specially politicians: harvest the rain, harvest the rain, harvest the rain, harvest the rain…  By eating what they grow, they’re setting a good example to their children.

            Over plate, napkin and fork, I learned that Jo knew how to catch snakes.      

           The snake-lovers of Goa are a unique breed. They belong to various professions, come from unusual backgrounds and are passionate about catching, identifying and caring for snakes. I remember my son’s friends, Aaron Lobo and Luke Victor who were avid snake fans, getting into near-fatal venomous trouble because of this love of theirs. It was all the more of interest to me because just that morning, the guy who cleans our plot, who isn’t afraid of reptiles and usually tosses them across into the jungles with a twig if he encounters one, killed a baby cobra whose venom wouldn’t have been of the dosage to sedate a kitten. If the creature hadn’t walked over the man’s hand, it’d have been alive today. His being in the vicinity wouldn’t have scared the man, but touching him, crawling over him – that was another matter.

            By coincidence, within 24 hours, I visited another ‘Camp’ as military areas are called. In Vasco. Wondered how they managed to keep their neighbourhoods so tidy. No signs of plastic or any other litter.

            One of the lessons I’d learned early in my hotel and later hospital-administration career was: a motivated workforce follows a code of conduct. Basic skills taught at the highest level are important. Equally important are grooming, greeting and gentleness (this word encompasses punctuality, behaviour and a sense of honour). Our Defence Forces have followed that tradition and it shows in the ethos of any Camp. The environment is about large trees, well-kept gardens and people walking or jogging for good health. It’s also about politeness, civility and couth attitudes. There’s so much we can learn from the Forces. If only we were willing.