Dark Truths From the Sunshine State

 And while in the past couple of years, international tourist inflow has been on the decline, Goa still remains one of the most frequented destinations in India for international tourists, along with Tamil Nadu, Kerala and Rajasthan. In 2015, 49,626 e-visas were issued for travelers to Goa, with Russians topping the list (25,770), followed by the UK (11,748), Ukraine (6,892) and Germany (1,113).

Goan Market Scene. Illustrations by Mario Miranda /Poskem by Wendell Rodricks

For years, the promises of cultural diversity, the preserved Portuguese past, beautiful beaches, colonial architecture, biodiversity and a rocking nightlife that has lured tourists to Goa.

There is also a dark side to this shiny state brimming with neoteric vibes. A side that locals for decades kept deliberately under the wraps — the tradition called Poskim.

Poskim (plural Poskem) is a Portuguese term used to describe young children from poor families who were adopted by rich families and made to live with them, even taking their family names. But the charity ended there. Most of these children were treated as house helps. Unlike other children in the household, they were not sent to school nor did they get any inheritance rights.

In a world where talks of equality and human rights are de riguer, this secret tradition in Goa is a grisly reminder of what bonded labor in the contemporary world can look like.

According to locals, the tradition is on the decline with rising awareness, concerns about child rights and also the changing attitudes of people. But the fact that it existed for years and even today many families have Poskim growing up in their midst is a grim reminder how caste and money could continue playing a role in societal divides.

Goan Aristocrat Family. Illustrations by Mario Miranda /Poskem by Wendell Rodricks

Rodricks admits that this may be the last generation of Poskem and has heavily relied on his observations, anecdotes from his mother and other elders who knew and experienced the tradition first hand. The accounts and the stories in the book are real, but the author has fictionalized them.

But how is it in a state such as Goa, which has a flourishing tourism sector and boasts literacy rates of 87 percent, among the highest in India, nothing has been written before about Poskem. Rodricks minces no words in admitting that Goans realize that it is a shameful tradition and do not talk about it. Indeed, the stigma attached with the subject is so great that most Goans expressed shock on learning about his book.

In a country where exploitation of household help is commonplace, perhaps Goans were inure to the practice more than seeking to keep it secret. Rodricks demurs: “Everyone knew/ knows, it is a shameful tradition. But Goans don’t want to talk about the Poskim. They feel that it is a dark secret best left unspoken about.”

However, times are changing and the younger generation especially finds the practice inhumane. Rodricks says: “When I first disclosed that I was going to write Poskem, they (the locals) were in disbelief that one would approach such a subject. Many would ask ‘But what is there to write about these people? They were adopted children. That’s all.’ Imagine, these stories would never have been told until I created the characters and wrote Poskem. There are Poskim till today in Goa, but I hope after the book, this tradition stops and this derogatory word is not used again.”

How did the practice of adopting children from poor family and then treating them like servants came about ? Damodar Mauzo, Sahitya Akademi award winning novelist and scriptwriter from Goa, says: “The tradition of adopting Poskemi must have started with good intention. The poor members of the family clan would expect the well off from their own caste to look after their child. The bhatkars (landlords) with a philanthropic bent of mind generally obliged. In some cases, when a couple did not conceive for a long time after their marriage, they would adopt a child from their less fortunate kin, with a hope that the adopted child may bring in luck to them. Often, they would later conceive and then their love would shift entirely to their own child thus leaving the adopted one to face negligence. Though there are cases where the Poskim were fortunate to get decent living, the unfortunate ones outnumbered the fortunate ones.”

Street in the Latin Quarter of Fontainhas, Panjim. Illustrations by Mario Miranda /Poskem by Wendell Rodricks/Om Books

 The tradition passed from generation to generation. Rodricks says: “I heard about the Poskem from villagers. I imagined them to be servants as they were treated as such. Later my mother explained that they were poor children adopted by families to work at home (for the most part). I found it shocking that they were given the family name, but not allowed the privileges of the other children in the home. Sometimes they were not allowed to marry, nor given a proper education. They rarely got a share of the family inheritance. Many were abused to a life of bonded labor.”

 Perhaps the locals realized this unfairness and were therefore careful of not bringing the practice into the open. Before Rocrick’s book very little was known publicly about the Poskem in Goa.

Mauzo adds: “My guess is that the concept of Poskem came into being during the Goan exodus following rampant conversions and later the enforcement of ecclesiastical law of Inquisition. The missionaries probably encouraged the adoption of orphans left behind by the distressed parents. This may be the reason why this tradition did not prevail outside Goa.”

One of the very few people who had highlighted this practice earlier is Goa based playwright Isabel Santa Rita Vas, who acknowledges that she has always known about the adoption of children as domestic workers, since it was a fairly common practice in Goa. She says: “Back in 2000 I wrote a short piece called, ‘Poskem or child of the heart?’ for a column titled ‘Pass the Mustard, Please’ that I was doing for a local paper, The Herald. It dealt with the theme of adoption practices in India. I touched upon the practice in Goa of adopting a child, generally a girl, basically for domestic work — the poskem (Konkani) or the crioula (Portuguese). I quoted a pastoral letter from the then Portuguese Patriarch in Goa, Jose Alvernaz, who wrote in 1946: “It is sad to note that, in certain civilized circles, practices of slavery in disguise should still persist, and that one should deny to one’s subordinates inalienable rights like to marry and have a family. It makes no sense at all that we should preen ourselves as modern, that we should preach so many freedoms and claim them for ourselves, that we should believe we possess a high degree of social culture — if, we simultaneously turn into oppressors of our subordinates and deny them a minimum of freedoms to which they have an undisputed right.”