Gone with the Times

A little more than a century ago, traditional occupations thrived in Goa under its local practitioners, with as many as 100 such jobs being listed in a census from that time. But that was in 1900. Today, many of these occupations have come to die a natural death, while still many others have ceased to be the forte of the local populace, taken over as they have been by migrants.
To salvage the quiet pride that came from knowing and practising these trades of fabulous craftsmanship and lasting quality, several of the state’s citizens, like curator of Goa Chitra museum, Victor Hugo Gomes, have made efforts to document them for posterity.However, in the case of many occupations this has proven difficult as the knowledge was passed down from generation to generation by word of mouth.
Researcher Pantaleo Fernandes, who has documented these dying occupations for his book, says he is happy to have captured nuances of some of the practices while few of these trades were still active in some form.
STOI lists a few occupations, some lost forever, some on the wane, others thriving, but not in local hands.
Dixtt-kaddpi, the witch doctor
These ‘dixtt-kaddpi’ were especially sought after to rid newborns of the feared evil eye. They would grind a paste and apply it to the foreheads of babies. The special days on which the ‘dixtt-kaddpi’ carried out the ritual were Sundays and Wednesdays, mostly after sunset. These local healers, believed to possess special powers, were known to be in high demand and had to be booked well in advance
Kumbhar, the master of clay
Like other traditional occupations and professions, Goan potters, too, are known to have involved the entire family in their trade. Hindu potters were mainly from Bicholim and were well-known for their idol making skills. Catholic potters provided their services to the Franciscans of Bardez and to the Jesuits in Salcete
Fish spotters, those of the keen eye
The fishing community would depend on them to identify spots in the seas that will yield the best fish. Fish spotters acted as guides to his village fishermen on where to cast their nets
Voijinn, the rural midwife
Then there was the ‘voijinn’ — the local midwife. There was nothing medical about her practice, but she had the trust of the entire village. Her key role was that of assisting childbirth. The voijinn used various traditional mixtures and healing practices, and plant-based therapies
Takikar, the stone keeper
This was a very specialised profession where these craftsmen were responsible for chipping or roughening the surface of different types of stone grinders like ‘rogde’ or ‘dantem’. He would walk past houses and for yards shouting out the services he had on offer
Koloikar, restoring utensils
These were the professional tinners and played a very crucial role in food preparation. They would carry tin with them which they would rub on the inside of special copper utensils used to prepare sweets like dodol. The ‘koloikar’ would make the rounds before major festivities, like Christmas or Easter, to ensure that households did not get poisoned if the tin layer had thinned from these utensils
Jugador, the coconut bossman
Led by the ‘judagor’, the local team of coconut pluckers would walk together to large orchards. The ‘jugador’ would yodel to summon the orchard caretaker. Along with the landlord, he would then inspect the trees for the bunches of coconuts on them. The ‘jugador’ would leave markings on the tree bark. Once the coconuts were ready for plucking, the ‘jugador’ and his team would return. The markings on the tree bark were matched with the coconuts ready for plucking
Bhadel, the woman coolie
‘Bhadels’ were active during the early 19th century. They operated in main business towns like Margao and Mapusa.
These were times that lacked too many motorised options to transport goods. This is where the ‘bhadels’ stepped in and carried goods from one place to another on their heads, either alone or in groups, depending on the weight to be handled. These women mostly hailed from the ‘gaudi’ community and were trusted even to deliver money.
The word ‘bhadel’ is possibly derived from ‘bhadem’, meaning engagement on rental basis.
These women were identifiable by the red garment with black and white squares that they wore like a frock. On their head, they placed a white cloth known as ‘chumoll’, which acted as a cushion and helped carry the head load. Traders that wanted their goods to be transported would not accompany the ‘bhadels’, but would only direct them to the destination. Hence, trust was paramount
Tel Kaddpi, kneading the knots away
Traditional female masseuses would make their periodic rounds when they were called to massage the new born babies and their mothers