Based on a series of questions I ask him (on camera, in Konkani), he shows us a portion of the woven braid. All those buds will yield about 10 feet of braid and take him an hour to weave. Notice the thread, it is actually a fiber pulled from the bark of the banana tree and kept soaked in water. Very eco-friendly.

These braids will be sold in the marketplace (see Kumta marketplace) and usually end up in temples or family shrines. Women also use to decorate (and perfume) their hair. The market rate for these braids is about Rs50-Rs100/ft ($1-$2/ft), but can be significantly higher during the festival season. The beauty of the braids is in the buds; and once they bloom, the braids are considered done.

Here you see such Jaaii-kaLe braids offered to the Nag Devata at a small shrine in Kumta.

View Larger Map

Every day should be Mothers’ Day and Fathers’ Day. This Mothers’ Day (May 11), I started to pen some thoughts regarding my parents (Dr. Vasant R. and Mrs. Uma Koppikar), but life intruded and I did not complete my piece to honor them. One awful summer in 1978, we were devastated by my father’s fatal heart attack on July 2. Within a couple of months (Sept. 3) my mother lost her brave fight against leukemia. Doubly mourning, numb with shock, we could barely function. All 5 sisters (I am the second) consoled each other, drew strength from our spouses, and managed to live through bereavement. Sadly, the third of the daughters, Padmini Rao, succumbed to multiple myeloma in Sept. 2006. This article is dedicated to her memory, with thanks to her husband, B. Udayanand Rao for being such a dedicated care-giver.

In the preface to “Manache Shloka” (24 Feb. 2000), His Holiness Sadyojat Shankarashram Swamiji writes “Our Parama Guru, Swami Anandashram used to speak of three Shankars in our community. They were Justice K. Shankarnarayan Rao, HSR (H Shankar Rau) and A.V. Shankar Rao.” I am proud to call the first-named Shankar my maternal grandfather. He bequeathed to us a precious legacy of caring and sharing which we hope to pass on to future generations. My parents were karma-yogis and are my role models. They touched many lives and helped make this world a better place. Even after 30 years, people remember my parents and speak respectfully of them. They express gratitude for their kindnesses: e.g., being surrogate parents to homesick young brides, assisting families over rough patches, lending a helping hand in financial crises, and simply being there when needed. All this was done quietly, unobtrusively, and with no strings attached. We grew up surrounded by warmth and affection, compassion for the less fortunate, and kindness and consideration for all. Our household was the opposite of the “himTee” (miserly, penny-pinching) reputation attached to Koppikars.  Indeed my parents were generous almost to a fault. Hardly a day went by when they were no guests. Doors were open and no alms-seekers were turned away. Midway between Mumbai/Pune and southern destinations such as Shirali, Mangalore, Bangalore, travelers would halt in Belgaum and were treated as part of the family. If there were people travelling with no stops, my mother brought tiffin carriers full of home-made food to them. Rather than purchasing a railway platform ticket each time, she would buy a season pass for convenience. On the off chance that someone may come in on a late bus etc., extra food was put aside. She followed the tradition of her parents’ home (nicknamed “Liberty Hall”) where many young men from smaller places lived to complete their education, and generosity was the byword. My paternal grandparents also created a haven. A well-known ophthalmic surgeon, Dr. Ramdas Koppikar was also a reputed dentist, and patented and manufactured affordable medicines.

My parents’ house was “KuLaar” (Parents’ place) for everybody, regardless of gender or age. Entire families would come over if one person had eye surgery. My father was the official opthalmologist to our revered Swamijis. Rich and poor alike were treated with equal care. Patients with modest incomes sometimes voluntarily paid in kind. He was one of the few to treat inmates of the missionary leper colony. He set up one of the first eye banks in that part of the world and participated in the Lions Club, cooperating in vaccination drives, fundraisers, eyeglasses for the needy, etc. Even after death he kept on giving the gift of sight via organ donation. His corneas have been successfully implanted in 2 individuals.

My mother was his partner in all ways, from helping him at his clinic to working side-by-side for deserving causes. She taught Hindi to poor children, found homes for neglected kids, helped unwed mothers, and volunteered for the Red Cross. Many a bride was given a mangal-sutra and a sari for her wedding if the parents could not afford these marriage must-haves. It was a warm and jolly household, filled with laughter, brimming with art projects in various stages of completion, observation of festivals, etc. Along with good food and fragrant filter coffee, classical music and dancing, books in various languages, Winsor and Newton paints, easels, beads, embroidery hoops and colorful yarns were part and parcel of our lives. Encouraging our hobbies, tolerant and non-judgmental, forgiving our childish transgressions, my mother let each of us pursue our interests in our own fashion with no pressures. She was ahead of her time and was a true feminist. The best advice she gave us was that we should be self-sufficient, see the bright side of everything, that every individual has something they excel at and can share, and that we should walk in another’s shoes before criticizing.

We grew up believing that beauty is skin-deep and actions speak louder than words. “Handsome is as handsome does” is a motto we still strive to live by. Though he brought us up with firm discipline, my father advised us not to take ourselves too seriously and find humor in everyday situations. “Even if everyone around you is goofing off, do your work diligently and do the right thing. Remember good actions as well as bad ones have consequences, so behave accordingly.” We got an education for life, one which no school or university can ever offer. They taught us by example as well as precept. I can never forget how, even during her terminal illness, my mother treated the visiting Ranisahebs of Kurundwad and Sawantwadi with the same courtesy as the humble “bhaajiwalis” (vegetable sellers) whose produce she bought. Nor can I forget how, on the heels of my marriage expenses, my father emptied out his savings account so I could join my husband in the U.S. after the rupee was devalued and my own tiny savings as a college lecturer got swallowed up. These were lessons in grace under fire.

My father was born in Karwar. Educated in Karwar, Dharwar, Mumbai and London, he got married to K[undapur] Uma Rao. After a distinguished career in the Indian Army Medical Corps, he worked for the government touring seven districts with a mobile unit. He settled down in Belgaum and made a name for himself in his profession as well as social work. Born in Shimoga, brought up in Bangalore, my mother married at the tender age of 14. She was yanked away from her loving home and parents (K. Shakarrnarayan and Mrs. K. Shyambhavi Rao). The sheltered teenage bride had to cope with the vagaries of being an Army wife. Together my parents accomplished the tough job of bringing up 5 daughters, educating them, finding husbands for each and marrying them off. My father used to joke that they only got the “Pancha kanya” portion of the traditional marriage blessing and ignored the “Ashta-putra” part! (After a Hindu wedding, the priest blesses the newlyweds and prays that they will have healthy kids: 8 sons and 5 daughters and have a happy married life) Though they had no sons, they gained 5 great sons-in-law. Today, scattered over 3 continents, they have 9 accomplished grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren.

My second son (Dr. Samir Bangalore) met and married a brilliant corporate lawyer, Sheila, granddaughter of my father’s friend and fellow ophthalmic surgeon, Dr. (M.) Ramanath Bhandari. Among all the eligible matches, he chose this gem of a young woman to join our family. What an amazing coincidence!

I thank God for this and all His Blessings. If we can pass on even a minuscule portion of the values they brought us up with, we will truly honor the memory of my parents. May their souls rest in peace!

See an earlier post for a brief background on Ganapati.

During aarti on the last (5th) day.

Read more; additional Ganapati pics!

The Mahamandap (Great Hall) at the Mahalakshmi Temple in Bandivade, Goa provides a therapeutic escape from many of Goa busy attractions. It is a perfect place to sit undisturbed and commune with the divine. On this early morning, regular devotees went about their prayers silently and tourist laden buses had not yet arrived.

In front of the Deul (Konkani for Temple, also Devasthan), notice the Deepa Stamba (Light tower), a characteristic of Goa Konkani temples. Around the temple are guest rooms for traveling devotees at nominal costs.

The Deul was originally in the village of Kolambe, near present day Colva beach. When the Portuguese destroyed it, devotees smuggled the murthy of Mahalakshmi (Great Lakshmi) first to the town of Talauli (aka Talavali, Talaulim) where it resided in the home of a priest. It was then moved to its present location in Bandivade in Ponda, where a small temple was established in 1866. Upgrades and expansions have occurred ever since. Today it is a magnificent example of Konkani temple architecture in Goa.

Mahalakshmi is respected as a form of Durga Devi, as described in the Durga Saptashati (aka Chandi PaTh or Devi Mahatmyam). Devi is an independent Goddess to whom the Gods turn for help in their hour of need. Mahalakshmi is depicted as the Goddess of Wealth and resides as an independent Goddess and not as a spouse of Vishnu.

A careful observation of shadows will reveal that the following pics were taken in the evening, during an earlier trip. Beautiful, no?

• Ramnathi Devasthan, A Konkani Temple
• Flower sellers at the Ramnathi Devasthan
• Mangeshi Devasthan
• Sacred Places: Avalanche of Christian Aid in India
• Revisionism about the Portuguese Inquisition

---

References:
• VN Kudva, History of the Dakshinatya Saraswats, Madras, (1972, 1991).

The school made a significant investment in cooking equipment and prepares a nutritious, vegetarian meal for the ~ 850 primary and secondary school students. Lunch is simply rice, sambar or daal, a lentil curry or vegetable and pickles (see actual student plate above).

During my meetings with parents of Scholarship recipients, and listening to comments at the Parents Teachers Meeting, parents absolutely love the school lunch program. Parents are relieved of the pressure to pack a lunch every morning, or have it ready for the lunch break. Parents are also surprised (and glad) their kids actually eat the variety of vegetables and lentils the school serves. The school subsidizes the lunch and charges students Rs 80 per month (~$2 per month, Rs 4 per meal or ~ 10 cents per lunch!). Students not on the meal plan can eat occasional meals and drop cash in an unmanned donation box.

Kids love the food too. Meals are taken in the company of friends (and associated peer-pressure to finish their plate). Lunch is done within 20-30 minutes, and since they still have an hour break, they get to play around, gossip, or browse the library.

Thus I showed up just before lunch time to “test the quality of the school lunch program.” I always have interesting reasons to be present wherever free lunch is served. Very delicious food and a primary reason why we included lunch as part of the scholarship package we provide needy students. Whenever you are in Kumta, you are welcome to join in for a free lunch!

See pics from the Lunch, below

Boys and girls line separately for their lunches; senior students (X Std/grade) take turns serving. This day they also served a special “payasam” (see nearest bucket)

Students wait for all their colleagues to be served before starting.

Then after a brief benediction in Sanskrit (Shanti Mantra),

They start to eat.

One more of the lunch/ auditorium

• Lunch at the Saraswati Vidya Kendra
• Shanbhag School in Kumta
• Academic Update from the Shanbhag School
• Scholarships for the Needy
• Scholarship Activities at Shikshan.org

The Shanbhag High School, managed by the Konkan Education Trust does not receive any governmental aid. But it follows the state determined academic syllabus and guidelines. While we attract many students who can afford fees, our family wanted to make good education particularly accessible to the poor. Thus last year we gave 16 scholarships to very needy students to attend either the Shanbhag High School, or the affiliated primary school, Saraswati Vidya Kendra. At a new site dedicated to our Scholarship activities, (Shikshan.org), you can browse the list of Scholarship Recipients for 2007-2008.

You can also read about my personal challenges in identifying needy girls: Where are all the needy girls?

We did not rest, last December (2007) during my travels to Kumta I visited most of the scholarship recipients in their homes. The visit served two purposes: (a) to meet the families and convince them of our commitment to support their child’s education ~ and in turn expect them to make education a priority; and (b) to ensure that these were indeed needy families, which I could determine from their living conditions.

They lived in simple 1 or 2 room homes, or with relatives, and it was emotionally overwhelming to experience the gratitude of these families. Below, I share with you some of the scholarship recipients in their home settings. Appropriately I have omitted their names.

We supported the girl; this was their front room/living room/bedroom and the kids studied on the bed. Behind was a smaller kitchen/dining area.

She came from a family of traditional fisher folks.

We supported the boy. As discussed in Where are all the needy girls? the sister in 4th grade was enrolled in the Kannada language school. She wanted to be in the Shanbhag School with her brother but unaffordable. On hearing this, I asked her mother (father is no more) to enroll her in our school for the next year. When I visited Kumta last month, we got the girl enrolled with a full scholarship! Yaay!

You can see the kitchen and dining area in the back. As traditional families do, they sit on the floor to eat.

We are supporting the boy. You see one of several sisters in the background, who have all graduated from the Kannada language school. With limited professional or career options, they work as cooks and serve meals to students in a part of their house.

We are supporting one of these delightful twins, seen here drawing and finishing their home work.

If you are interested in helping children get an outstanding education, see what we have started at Shikshan.org; and particularly, How to Help!

• Shanbhag School in Kumta
• Academic Update from the Shanbhag School
• Lunch at the Shanbhag School
• Lunch at the Saraswati Vidya Kendra; Audio of Kids Chanting
• Scholarship Activities at Shikshan.org

Tambdo phovu is very easy to prepare and inexpensive. The biggest expense would be the coconut and in the Konkan, every family would have their own coconut trees. You could mix as little or as much as you’d want. It doesn’t spoil, though the phovu may soften a bit.

The key ingredient here is the phova piTTo (powdered spice mix). Earlier, this would be made in every home, but now families simply buy it in the market. Phova piTTo from Kumta is famous! On every visit to Kumta I pickup a pound to bring here, and also for my aunts and cousins living in Mumbai (who are too lazy to travel to Kumta). Shilpa of Aayi’s Recipes has a recipe for the Kumta phova piTTo!

After much pestering, Manashi has developed a taste for it and now makes delicious tambdo phovu. I get it at least once on the weekend! I count my blessings, else I’d have to make do with chemical laden, starchy mush called cereal!

Ingredients

• Phovu (thin puffed rice, 2 cups)
• soyi (grated coconut, 1/2 cup; we use the frozen variety, microwaved to thaw)
• Kotumbari (coriander seeds, 1 tbsp)
• Jirae (cumin seeds, – 1/2 tsp)
• Tambdi mirsang (dried hot red peppers, 4 medium sized)
• Saakar (sugar, 1 tsp)
• MeeTh (salt, to taste)

Method:

• Roast the coriander and cumin seeds; then the red peppers separately in a wee bit of oil.
• Collect in a steel bowl, along with the soyi, poha piTTo, sugar and salt.
• I use a pestle (of mortar and pestle) to first crush the seeds, the red peppers and then crushingly mix with the phova piTTo, soyi, sugar and salt.
• Mix in the phovu in small amounts.
• Moisture from the soyi should be sufficient to soften the phovu, but you can sprinkle a few drops of water.
• Serve with some sev on the side.
• Bon apetit!

• Shilpa has a slightly different, but equally delicious recipe for the red phovu.
• You may like another of my Konkani Favorites: Kadgi Chakko!

and my favorite Kumta related posts:

• Kumta: Jewel of the Konkan
• Kumta: Field of Dreams
• Kumta: Main Street
• Kumta: School Kids
• Or you can see all my posts in KUMTA category

Eat Healthy! Live Long! Run Far!

A few blocks from our place in Kumta is a little “girNi” (or mill) which grinds various types of flour. It is run by a distant relative ours; apparently everyone in Kumta is related to each other! And fortuitously for me, he was milling raagi flour that day. So here’s a little tour of the making of Raagi Flour.

Shanbhag maam (in Kumta I call all elders by this honorific ~ we are all related, you see) poses with a bag of Raagi flour.


Raagi comes in these 110 lb bags and Shanbhag maam hauls these on his back!

My first look at whole raagi (Red millet or African millet).

In this simple contraption, the millet is ground. Through the homemade bellows in the foreground, the ground raagi collects in tin cans. The husk blows up through the pipe at the top and collects in the cloth bag in the back.

To cool, the ground raagi is heaped on newspapers on the floor, then hand filled in plastic bags and sealed. For a pittance I bought a couple of bags of raagi flour and carried them to our home here. On our dining table, raagi bhakri will appear more often. Yaay!

A closer look at the owner/manager/laborer/bag filler/cashier/cleaner/load hauler!

In a word – EXCELLENT!
Summary of Results of 58 students who appeared in the 2007 X Std, Karnataka State Board Exams:

• Highest score of 97.7%
• 3/58 students scored greater than 97%
• 20/58 students scored greater than 90%
• 34/58 scored greater than 85%
• 54/58 scored greater than 60%
• 3/58 scored between 50 and 60%
• 1/58 scored between 35 and 50%
• No student in the entire class failed the X std Board exams

WoW! Congratulations to the students on their excellent performance. Also a big pat on the back for the teachers who did an outstanding job of educating the young. Since the Shanbhag School is a private school, it does not receive any Government subsidies or aid. Thus the teacher’s salary are much lower than at local government-aided schools. The dedication of teachers to teach is thus so much more appreciated. The 2008 exams has recently concluded and it will be some months before the results are out.

Here are a few pics of ongoing classes. Note: I did not know that Thursdays are “casual Thursdays” and students did not have to wear their blue and white uniforms (which you see in this post). Thus the school took on a festive appearance. YaaY!

It was a fabulous November afternoon. Looking towards the front of the school. For comparison, see here for pics from a few years ago.


Bright and spacious rooms!

In every classroom I entered (accompanied by the Vice-principal) all students would stand and greet me. Heeeeee heeeeeee. Made my day!

The teacher painstakingly wrote out even the “Fill in the blanks.” All classrooms had photographs of different national leaders above the black board.

On the upper right corner of the blackboard, the daily tally of students is chalked. Notice the near equal distribution of boys and girls in the class and is nearly equal at the school level.

A textbook, bits of writing chalk, a homemade duster to wipe the boards and a ruler.

Leaving the school, the bus was packed! I felt guilty as a seat was saved for me. But gave me a chance to take a few pics.

Little kids from the adjacent primary school got the pride of place next to the driver. At each stop, the conductor would literally carry a little one and hand them over to one of their parents waiting at the stop. Then joyously they would scamper away.


The kids were superbly well behaved and engaged in mindless banter the entire way. This kid looked at me suspiciously the entire ride.

A bunch just behind me.

One of the spiffy school buses. Here in Kumta, cows are an ubiquitous presence. Chewing cud, this calf sauntered in just in time to have its pic taken. As M had not accompanied me to Kumta, this pic elicited the well expected: “sooooo cute!” That was for the calf, not the bus.