Festival Find

And then—quite by accident—I discovered Shigmo. This is the traditional Hindu spring festival and falls close to the carnival. But what a difference! It is a homemade affair,and village after village turns up to perform. What you get is a feast of the real thing—real people proudly displaying traditional dances. Hundreds of dancers stream by,carrying burning torches,bells and elaborate flags. This year,there was a 20-foot high Ravan,a Hanuman who actually flew and entire armies of the most wonderfully crafted demons,heroes and kings. For over four hours,celebrants streamed past to the beat of thumping drums and clanging bells. It was awesome in its scale and passion.

Also by accident,I discovered another festival unique to Goa that comes with the onset of the monsoons,dedicated to St John the Baptist. I attended my first San Jao festival at Siolim. Gaily decorated boats sailed past on the river with banners that read “Boys football club” and “The Menezes Family”. They contained everything from Zulu warriors to a group of magic mushrooms in fluorescent hats,to a boat full of Elvis look- alikes. They made things more entertaining by leaping into the river. The first time a whole lot of them plummeted into the water,my heart skipped a beat for the 70-year-old man who was among them. After leaping in,all they did was stand up — the water was waist-deep. The parish arrived after mass,and wave after wave of men yelled,“San Jao! Viva San Jao” and leapt into the river. The women moved among the guests with baskets full of chouris (Goan sausage),bread and fruit. To get into the spirit of things,you had to be wearing a “coppol”,a crown made of flowers and leaves. The contents of entire gardens were visible on the heads of some of the populace.

Then the big moment arrived. San Jao was on his way! Everyone rushed to the banks for a sighting. San Jao was escorted by a Roman gladiator,a caveman with a club and a fairy queen with cardboard wings. He was in a ferocious false beard and a fur rug tied around the middle. The rug hadn’t made it all the way and his white shorts were prominently on display. Not that it mattered to the crowd as they roared “Viva San Jao!” Finally it rained,local star Remo arrived to play,and the crowd joyously took to the floor.

In Goa,you can see Christmas coming from weeks away. Houses are industriously cleaned and given a coat of paint,Santa Claus arrives two weeks too early and gives the dogs a fright and you are woken at night by the sound of carol-singing. At midnight mass,you can scarcely breathe for the smell of mothballs and scent. All the men’s suits have been taken out of storage,but the ladies are in gowns stitched especially for the occasion. At midnight,every church across Goa rings its bells and the night is loud with acclamation.

But far more endearing are the little chapel feasts held around the year. Every village in Goa has a cluster of small chapels,and you can find yourself suddenly wandering into a celebration. A long neglected little chapel will be decked in flowers and branches with a group of the local faithful praying. The feast ends with the distribution of boiled gram and jaggery.

Luckily,the government has not yet managed to make any of these festivals official,so they have not been ruined by being converted into tourist attractions. The true spirit of celebration lives on in Goa,in the festivals that flourish far from the tourist crowd.

beachside@expressindia.com