Goa long gone

Change is inevitable, but not all change is for the better. I travelled to Goa by air for the first time (having previously travelled by rail or bus) sometime around 2008. Back then, there weren’t that many buildings near the airport, and the journey northwards from Dabolim was green, clean, and peaceful. But today, the difference is unmistakeable.

First, from the window of the aircraft, one can’t help but notice the number of buildings coming up within close proximity to the airport. Are these projects affordable housing for people working at the airport and in other jobs in the area? Of course not. The ads make it clear that they are intended to further fuel the rampant real estate market providing second, third, etc. homes to investors. Second, upon disembarking from the plane, the first thing one sees at the very gate are ads for the casinos.

I guess this cash cow is what the government is expecting tourists to come here for. I’m still not sure where all the waste generated from these attractions goes—into the Mandovi?

Third, in case there is any confusion owing to the changing landscape, one can always confirm one is in Goa by the sight of piles of garbage along the side of the road.

This past May, I even saw a mattress that had been discarded—its new dwelling, the once scenic shrubs and trees along the roadside. Fourth, although the traffic flowed smoothly this time, during peak tourist season, traffic jams on National Highway 17 are very common. People claim to come here to chill out, but the amount of traffic and the attitudes and poor driving skills of the motorists can make it feel like you’re in any Indian metro.

As a tiny state—and especially one that is part of a country with a gnawing hunger for development—Goa is a prime target for alteration. Add to this the fact that Goa’s coastal location and distinctive European–South Asian character attract visitors, and you realize that this beautiful place never stood a chance.

For years, the inhabitants of villages have watched the erection of apartment buildings and gated communities around them in disbelief. It is normal to see one light on in an entire building at night, making it clear that most of the buyers are investors and not people who have settled in Goa. As many have pointed out, Goa is regarded as a pleasure periphery, and thus, owning property here signals that one has attained a certain status. That is, if one is successful enough, Goa awaits with the reward of a luxurious and leisurely getaway. Moreover, you are entitled to claim this reward.

With this construction came the urbanization of many villages, at least in appearance. The smooth, widened roads and introduction of footpaths and benches have not necessarily been complemented by a steadier power supply, for instance.

Photo courtesy Frederick Noronha (https://www.flickr.com/photos/fn-goa/16457002907)

It became clear that there was a plan. What that plan was, was the question.

An editorial was published in OHeraldo on 23 May 2016 that shed some light on what the game might really be. Fifty-six villages in Goa have been deemed towns according to the findings of the 2011 Census (i.e., a population of over 5,000; at least 75% of the male population engaging in non-agricultural activities; and a population density of 400 persons per sq km). As the editorial points out, “once village panchayats are upgraded into municipalities, they will bring in changes in land usage, allowing for a higher floor area ratio (FAR) that will in turn lead to taller buildings in what were once the green and pristine villages of Goa.”

As I have written before, Goa is becoming increasingly similar to Bombay. In the suburbs, one need only look in the distance to imagine what the area used to look like before migration and urbanization transformed it into what we are familiar with today.

This, for example, was the view of Borivali East from Mount Poinsur (Borivali West) in 2007.

Photo mine

So, when we cry that Goa is disappearing, it is about much more than nostalgia. It is a statement of fact. Humans are very good at gobbling up the earth for profit and convenience. But Bombay became the financial capital of India. What is the vision for Goa?

The statement of The Vision of the Broad Picture for Goa@60 (2022), as part of the vision for India@75, offers some idea. I find the following statement under the “Environment” section of the document particularly interesting: “Protection of the environment and ensuring the creation of green spaces for future generations…” Goa has always been full of green spaces; they need never be “created.” Furthermore, if one advocates for concretizing the existing green landscape and then earmarking spaces for re-greening, how can one claim to be protecting the environment?

This idea of “creating” green spaces is prevalent. This same language can be heard in the ads shown on the local TV channels for property in gated communities (e.g., Milroc Kadamba). Don’t people want to move to Goa because of its natural beauty, and doesn’t that natural beauty already include a considerable amount of green? So, what will happen, I wonder, when Goa no longer looks like Goa? Will there be infrastructure and employment opportunities (the long absence of which has caused many Goans to emigrate) allowing everyone to adapt? Or will those who invested their money here just move on to the next spot selected for colonization (a.k.a. development) and leave the Goans with a hot mess?