Ploughs to pans

Through the monsoon months, Ranjeet works in his family’s paddy fields in Purshottam in Medinipur district of West Bengal. Here, he spends his days helping his brothers and father plant rice saplings and also cultivate betel nut. But come November, he swaps his plough and sickle for an apron and frying pan.
Ranjeet, and numerous others like him, annually leave their homes in states such as West Bengal, Manipur and Himachal Pradesh and head for Goa and the promise of better money and small, seasonal jobs.They arrive at the start of the tourist season to return to their half-yearly jobs as cooks, stewards and dish washers at the various shacks and beach restaurants that dot the state.
Like Ranjeet, Tapas too has left Purshottam and its fields for a job as cook at the Flying Dolphin restaurant on Candolim beach.
“When I came to Goa 12 years ago, I spent almost a whole month roaming the beaches looking to see if any of the shacks were hiring,” says Tapas. It’s an expensive risk, since travel and accommodation in the tourist state are costly, but most are willing to take the chance for the opportunity to wait tables. Migrant workers are expected to submit proof of identity to the local police but the records at the stations are badly maintained. This makes it difficult to find reliable statistics on the temps.
Calangute’s Lorenco Fernandes, who runs Bongo Shack, often hires seasonal staff. “The basic pay might be low but most of these guys earn a good amount in tips. Many spend the season living in the shack itself, so they don’t have to worry about renting a room. They can send a large part of their salaries back home,” he says.
Tapas’ first job in Goa, more than a decade ago, earned him Rs 1,200 a month. A couple of job changes later he found a permanent position that paid him Rs 12,000 a month. Some restaurants pay the staff the mandatory minimum wage of Rs 6,000, offering higher salaries to cooks and experienced stewards.
Native Goans tend to shun the kind of jobs that people like Tapas and Ranjeet take up eagerly. “Most locals want to either work at a fivestar hotel or go abroad. They aren’t comfortable with working in seasonal restaurants that run only between November and April. Also, the local boys are irregular — they want to take leave for every festival and family event,” says Lorenco.
Most of these out-of-towners arrive in Goa with no formal training or experience. They start as trainees and work their way up. Tapas has learnt to toss up Goan favourites like prawn curry and chicken vindaloo. He can also manage continental dishes like chicken stroganoff, prawn Newburg, cauliflower gratin and Russian broth.
The Institute of Hotel Management in Goa offers certified crash courses in bar tending, service and cooking, free of charge, at their institute in Porvorim, for a few students. A lot of migrant workers enrol in these classes.
In addition, some restaurants bring in people to train their staff. Sergio, the owner of Zeebop, a popular beach shack in Utorda, hires a Russian expat to train his staff in the language. “With the large influx of Russian tourists, it’s essential to learn the language. Today a couple of my boys from Kolkata and Darjeeling are very fluent in both English and Russian. They also pick up Spanish and Hebrew,” says Sergio.
Quite a few casual workers opt to switch jobs each season and some fail to return to Goa. But those with permanent positions tend to stay on. Sergio, for example, has 20 Nepali and Bengali staff, many of who have been working with him for over a decade. He has no problem being more generous with the seniors and even pays for the airfare home.
There is now a steady flow of migrant labour from the North-east as well. Blessing, a steward at Café Chocolatti, a cafe in Candolim, left Manipur’s Ukhrul district and first headed to Pune in the hope of bagging a call centre job. However, his weak English and a thick Manipuri accent became a career block. “My sister’s husband worked at a restaurant in Goa and helped me get a job here. This is my first season and I really like the place. I would love to spend the whole year here, but family responsibilities await me in Manipur,” says Blessing. He hopes to work for a couple of years, save up and then start a business back home.
Trips home are something all workers look forward to. “When we’re in Goa, we try to work a little longer through the season so that we can enjoy the place. But when we get back home, we try to extend our stay so that we get more time with family. It’s a 50-50 life for us,” says Blessing.
It’s not all smooth sailing for many of these migrant workers, some of who have a hard time handling the cultural shift Goa demands as a popular tourist destination. Alcohol and drugs become a problem at times. Says a shack owner from Utorda in South Goa: “After a few seasons, some of them look for an easy meal ticket by dating and marrying tourists.”
On days when work is slow and Lorenco can afford to shut shop early, he takes the boys to town to watch the latest movie at the cinema or play a game of football on the beach. Hardly surprising then that most staffers are happy to return here each year to their small jobs, tending the garden or getting the place ready for the next season.