GOA HOUSES

Every culture expresses their

genius in different ways.
Goans seem to have
concentrated on their
houses. All the crafts
and skills were
centered around their homes.

Panaji (Goa): It's strange: you live in a home all your life to
suddenly wake up one fine day to realise the true worth of this
legacy. That, says architect Gerard Da Cunha, is just what is
happening to Goans.

Goan architecture is a quaint mix. There were influences which

came from the West, basically Portugal. This married local
influences, and then it took its own direction.

RICHNESS OF IT ALL

"What surprised me is the richness of what we have. We certainly

have a rich heritage. When it comes to Goa, everybody talks of
the beaches. Nobody realises that this is our strongest point,"
argues Da Cunha.

But can the houses that ooze old world charm survive in a
rapidly-changing Goa? Specially with the type of economic
pressures being put on this small state?

Argues Da Cunha: "They can survive if they're put to different

uses. Fortunately or unfortunately, tourism can play a part in
reviving these houses. They can play a new role as heritage-
homes, boutiques, restaurants, or even as offices. I myself work
in one old house."

Strangely, even as the government has gone about imposing more

stringent laws ostensibly to protect conservation zones and
control building activity, the concretisation of Goa has got all
the more worse. Perhaps that was because once the stringent laws
were in place, some politicians and racketeers with dubious-
motivation were in business. They had strong incentives to go
about scheming to break the law, and reap the huge profits that
resulted illegally to them.

Does Da Cunha agree with such a view?

"Laws don't really protect anything," argues Da Cunha. He feels

that the change would come when people realise "how valuable" an
old property is, as has happened in areas of Florence and Venice.
Little boutiques or guest houses would make more sense in the
long run than ugly concrete structures. It would retain the charm
too, he argues.

It's already happening in the Fontainhas (also known as Mala)

locale of Panjim -- sometimes called the Latin Quarter of this
haphazardly-grown once pretty town. Da Cunha points to fashion
designer Wendel Rodrick's exclusive showroom, the Panjim Inn,
Fundacao Orient and other such centres that are coming up in old
homes in this locale.

OLD HOMES FELLED

In the last few years, many old homes and structures have been
felled to make way for multi-storied buildings. Says Da Cunha:
"But Goans are intrinsically quite proud of their houses. Unlike
other people, Goans don't live in the cities. They mostly live in
the villages and they travel to work."

Goan homes, in this architect's view, stand out from the rest in
terms of their richness of detail. "There was a remarkable
dignity about the old houses. They reflected Goan life, in a way.
Goans I think were very formal. Aren't the old Goans and the
Portuguese-speaking ones? They had and have a certain grace,
formality, dignity, and perhaps are a little pompous too!"

Goa's homes of old often had thick walls. For the climate --
often hot and humid -- this made a lot of sense. But Goan homes
were not all that functional. Homes in Kerala, for instance,
responded to the climate more seriously, feels Da Cunha. In Goa,
the house had just one big roof. In Kerala, every room had a
domer-window which let off heated air.

Given his preferences, Da Cunha is obviously against Goa rushing

headling into urbanisation. Though, it can't be avoided
altogether, he concedes.

"Some amount of urbanisation is a natural thing. It happens. (But

too much of it and) you'd spoil the basic character of the
village. It happens along the highways. So the first place to get
ruined would be Porvorim to Mapusa. Bambolim. Then, it starts
creeping inwards," he says.

What about the argument that Goa's old houses can no longer cope
with the 'need of the time'?

"I don't think so. A lot of this box-driven development is really

to do with making money. Now you have thousands of flats in Goa
which are unoccupied. Nobody wants to buy them. Lot of people
were buying for speculation," says the bearded Da Cunha (44).

TO PORTUGAL
-----------

His plans don't end here. For a start, the exhibition will move
to Portugal, actually Porto, the city selected to be the cultural
capital of Europe for this year. "Then, I'm going to take it
round the country (India). That's my dream," says he. Da Cunha
has plans or invitations to put up the exhibition at Kathmandu in
Nepal, Bangalore, Bombay, Delhi, Baroda, Ahmedabad, Jaipur. If
things work out his way, he'll take a bus with his work on show.
"I'm planning to increase the size of the exhibition. We made 24
large panel photographs, some 20 x 30 inches, on laminated board.
Once I saw everybody coming in, I added to the exhibition," says he.

Was this work something he enjoyed? Yes indeed, but for a strange
reason.

His high-pressure lifestyle in laid-back Goa has made Da Cunha "a

bit of a recluse". This particular task forced him to take time
off, meet a lot of people, and get back in touch with those
living not so far away from home. "For long, it has simply been
to do my work, travel all over the place, and then come back to
my family. I hardly meet people or socialise much. So it was good
to meet a lot of people."

Now he sees this as a success, Da Cunha also plans to go onto a

"bigger dream" -- an exhibition on the vernacular architecture of
entire India.

Da Cunha's Goa book focusses on a range of issues. Starting with

houses in Goa before the coming of the Portuguese. On how it was
built in mud and other material, and how this suited local
lifestyles. It goes under the title of 'From Mud to Marvels'.
Other chapters are named 'Elements of Style' and 'House Form'
(which refers to smaller homes). Way of Life looks at the Goan ethos.

OTHER PRESSURES TOO

-------------------

Besides financial pressures, Da Cunha also sees other threats to

the stately Goan house. "If six sons inherit a house, it's going
to be difficult to divide. So that makes it easy for them to go a
builder, and (barter the home) for a flat each and say Rs 100,000
in a building set up there". But, says he, you can divide the
houses quite well if you're clever about it.

His advice to expats being tempted to buy flats that are

proliferating in the state: "Don't."

Buy an old house, suggests Da Cunha. "There are hundreds of old

houses in remote parts of Goa which are all unoccupied. In
Uccasiam, Nachinola, Moira. It's worth repairing it." He concedes
that it could at times prove troublesome. "But the rewards are
there."
What about the problems that people, particularly expatriate
Goans, face in repairing their old homes. Something that is
aggravated by the shortage of labour?

"Maybe something could be worked out by which people could repair

their houses. I don't see why I couldn't help that," promises Da
Cunha.

"Goans have always been proud of their homes. But maybe they
didn't show it," argues the architect.