The metamorphosis of Maria V3 ( a Poscum Child)
Follow up to Where is my Nest?
The metamorphosis of Maria V3
Simon was so touched with what he had learnt about Maria, her traumatic past from a baby to her womanhood. On the mini holiday to Bombay, he got to know her better.
What really bothered him was the isolation this poor person must have had lived from being an unwanted baby, to being a fully grown woman.
There were frequent visits to the house by other member of the clan, and she was financially secure. The absence of friends around her both male and female aroused a pain in him, how could a person be so isolated. She was attractive, and with a new wardrobe, she would have more self-esteem. That would be the start of the process to have confidence and gradually lose the chip on her shoulder resulting from her start in life being adopted as a” Poscum” child. This process however would take time.
With what he had subsequently learned from Grandd, had given him something to consider. Strangely he started thinking back to his own life before in Kenya, and in London.
“I then recollected my own isolation when I first came to London, my loneliness, in this new ‘white world,’ in winter.
A porky bedsit in Southeast London. In Kenya, my contact with anything white was non-existent. Kenya being on the Equator has no snow. The only time I saw this whiteness when I climbed Mount Kilimanjaro many years ago. Contact with this rare species of white skin was confined to the confession box or receiving Holy Communion from the Irish priests there at the Catholic Church. This was what I then thought they were an endangered species.
I recalled the silent racism at school in London. The other boys were not vocal, but passive. I was excluded from any meaningful contact. That was my reasons for going as far away from London to university. It was there that I began my late development as a person, and I was in my early twenties.
In the two years I was there. I screwed up and dropped out of university. However, I had achieved a lot more in other areas. This I realise subsequently was the difference between me and my siblings, and many other Goan children. That whiteness was normal and their cleaning the streets of London. They were not an endangered species.
Subjects like sex, adolescence, which were never touched on in the previous twenty odd years, were more important than education, albeit this was a different form of education. The hang-ups of our own religious and cultural straightjackets were laid bare.
I understood my body better, and adolescence as well. Being attracted to skirts was normal, even though sexual activity was restricted to the bedroom. That children grew up to be adults, each having their own attributes.
Sex was a taboo subject. How one dealt with relationships. All these came to the forefront.”
He had to try and help Maria, give her some dignity and pride in herself. Make her feel wanted. Besides, she was a lovely person and deserved better.
He would now try to understand. In the brief time he was there give her a belief in herself, and a reason for living. It was not that she was badly treated, but there were other benefits if she could shed the ‘Taboo’, of being a ‘Poskem Child,’ and become a woman in her own right, even having her own family. He made a bold decision, as he was single had no commitments, so why not!
Talk With Grandd abut Maria
Simon’s curiosity was aroused as he recalled that there was also a wad of documents and letters in a packet with the title ‘Maria’s in the ‘Black Box’ they previously opened.
He decided alone to investigate further this unopened packet labelled ‘Maria’s, as he had taken Maria to his heart, she was a lovely person, and he wanted to find out a bit about her and if possible, help her.
Returning to the trunk, and taking this packet labelled ‘Maria’s,’ he opened it. Most of it was in Portuguese, which was a ‘foreign’ language for him, apart from a few notes in English and Konkani. It seemed to say that her father was a Catholic priest, Father Joseph Da’ Costa, her mother Monica Da’ Silva. There was no indication if her parents had any family ties with the Kika family.
Putting the bundle carefully away, he thought to ask Grandd off-line for some information when they both were alone. A day later he asked Grandd to accompany him on a short walk as he wanted to ask him his what his takeaway from their meeting with Romeau via the séance was.
Grandd told him that a lot of what they heard was also new to him.
Simon cleverly then changed the topic, to ‘Maria.’
He asked,
“By the way, how old is Maria? She was very coy when I asked when her birthday was, as I wanted to send her a card.”
Grandd said that she was between thirty and thirty-five, and her birthday is on the first of December. Simon then said as they had missed it this year, he would note it in his diary so that next year he could send her a card.
He continued and asked Grandd when she was adopted, and if she knew anything about her early life before she came to them.
He then asked,
“Have you any idea when she came to us to be adopted, and?
Does she know anything about her past and being a poscum child? “
He asked innocently.
Grandd replied,
“Between you and me, I am not sure that she knows who her mum and dad were.
It is incredibly sad that her father was a Catholic priest, Father John Da’ Souza who passed away a few years ago.”
He whispered as if someone was within ear shot,
“Her mother was a Goan girl, Bella Fernandes, who when Maria was born was only seventeen. There was shame in the family, then Father John, immediately left Goa and went to Bombay. It is rumoured that he subsequently left the priesthood. We have not heard anything about him for a good few years. The mother also left Goa as she could not face the shame. As they were our distant cousins, Bella Fernandes our cousin, asked if someone in the family would adopt the baby, we agreed.”
He added,
“Poor Maria knows little of all of this, as we wanted to spare her all the shame. All she knows are the names of her natural father and mother.
We, that is the family sent her to school and later made her the mistress of the house. We all made sure that she was financially secure. You know that in those days it was not unusual to have a Poskem child and have them adopted. However, as a Catholic Priest was involved, the matter was incredibly sensitive. I do not think that she knows that her father was a priest.
Please do not mention this to her or anyone else. It is one of the many skeletons in our Kika cupboard.
That was why I was afraid a few weeks ago to open the ‘Black Box,’ as you call it.”
“Wow,”
Simon said.
“My lips are sealed, however I feel that at least now, as a woman she has the right to know something about her past, as she has also to come to terms with it. In my own experience, for varied reasons, I also had some ‘problems,’ which thankfully I have worked through a few years ago.
Our Goan culture, Catholic upbringing, has a lot to be desired, even now. I had a distinct set of problems with this Straight Jacket, which I recently shed. Then I was in my late twenties. I did not have any help. I can now understand what the poor girl is still probably going through.”
He quietly thought to himself,
“Maybe I can help her, she seems to trust me.”
They found themselves at the entrance to their house, so that was a natural end of their conversation. However this bothered Simon, and he decided to try and help Maria, but without referring to her childhood.
‘Then I kissed her.’
Simon told Maria that he loved cooking and would appreciate if she could teach him the art of ‘Goan cooking.’ He wanted to learn from her and would accompany her in preparing the food. She should tell him what to buy at the market, …. better if they both shopped together.
He hinted that he had also had a number of emotional and cultural problems which he could not share with anyone, as he did not know then that they were not the norm.
He said to her,
“Maria, I only realised that I had problems later in my teens and early twenties. I could not put my finger as to what it was, as I was inexperienced, young, and thought this was normal. I only got a hint that this was not true when I went to Delamere School in Nairobi.
Unfortunately, the time I was there was too short before I was confronted with another set of problems in London.
I will in short bursts share with you these traumatic experiences, and how to some extent I overcame them. You, will I hope then see, that life can be better, and I will try to help you.
Sorry Maria, I have spoken to long, I hope that I have not spoken out of turn. Look to me as a friend even when I have returned to England. We can still write to each other. This is my promise, and in the time, I am in Goa I will share my experiences with you over the next few days.”
That was the start of their short but fruitful relationship. After one or two days, she relaxed with him and was more open to talk to him.
His openness to her had helped to thaw part of the iceberg that she had carried from her childhood and could not share with others.
She cried with emotion for what seemed ages, actually it was only a few minutes.
She had found someone at last to hear her pain that was submerged within her, for years. Simon then seeing her distressed, held her close to him and kissed her. He had hoped that his confession would subsequently unlock the unhappiness she had carried within her heart for ages.
He then said,
“Maria,”
He said, “
I am so happy that I can try in my only little way, help you. I had my own cross to carry many years ago. Just give me some time and I will tell you my story how I blossomed as a person.”
She hugged him and burst out in tears as the flood gates opened again. He held her tight.
Simon then said,
"Please wait here, we both need something strong to drink to settle our nerves".
He returned with two large Scotches and water.
James came into the kitchen and saw them drinking at this part of the day.
He said,
“Drinking, this time of the day, what is the celebration?”
Simon then told him that Maria was upset as he asked her about her past, and she broke down crying and both of them needed something stronger to drink.
To change the focal point of the conversation Simon asked James what he was doing.
Before James could answer, Maria left the room.
Simon then told James that she had begun speaking about her past, and it brought back bad memories.
Later that evening Maria returned to Simon’s room.
He hugged her and said,
“Sorry for what happened earlier today.”
She said,
“No Simon, I had to get it off my chest at some point, I now feel much better.”
That evening Grandd was tired as he had not yet recovered from our brief holiday, and shortly after the evening meal went to bed. James had to call his family in Bombay, their conversations normally last hours so he disappeared.
Simon then said that he had a brilliant idea and asked her if she had been on a picnic, or fishing.
Maria confused said,
“Simon, why do you ask? Apart from going to Church, shopping, and visiting friends locally, I have never been fishing, or had a picnic. What are you fishing for?
Just like your namesake Simon-Peter, a fisher of men,” she added, giving him a broad beam smile, and with this came the smacker on his cheek.
Simon went on to say that in Kenya, very often on weekends, the whole family went for the day out to Nairobi Dam, or Arthi River on a family picnic/fishing trip. They were ten, so two cars were needed. Both these places were within two hours’ drive, and this event normally took place on a Sunday. They fished, cooked the fish, relaxed and drove home.
She asked,
“On a Sunday. What about Church?”
He added that they went for Sunday Service at 6 a.m., returned and then set off for their outing about ten in the morning. They returned home between seven and eight in the evening.
He then said that he will tell her a little secret, they said the rosary at home every day after the evening meal. When they went away, they said it in the car on the way back. God is everywhere you see.
She grinned and said,
“Grandd loves fishing, cannot remember when he last caught anything apart form a cold. That would be a lovely idea, Here the Sunday service starts at six in the morning, and like you said so we can say our rosary on the way back. That would be great, Do you think the others would be interested?”
Simon said that he would ask them at breakfast in the morning, he was sure that Brian, Grandd would be interested. He then told her that both his dad and grandad were both crazy fishers. As you know ‘fishing runs through their Goan Blood, just like feni.
He replied,
“Our holiday is coming to an ending in two weeks time, and I would like to ask them in the morning.
In Kenya, dad and grandad made up the simple rods for us. Just a bamboo stick seven foot long, with a fishing line tied to one end, with a float, lead weights, and one or two hooks. For bait we either used bread, or earthworms dug up from our garden the previous day, and put is a can with holes, and they were covered with wet soil, to keep them alive.
We took two large pans to cook the curry and rice. We were of course in the good old Goan tradition good fishers. Mum, and Nan cleaned the fish and made the Goan Fish curry. Our flat bottom saucepans were placed on three bricks/flat stones and was fuelled with wood which was readily available.
We had a ground sheet to sit on. However, Maria, we could use your folding table and five chairs. Still in the back of Brian’s car after our visit to the graveyard to see Romeau.
Maria, why do you not return to your room, we can discuss this idea with the others at breakfast.“
Maria replied that this was a brilliant idea.
The Plan for the Picnic
As usual, Simon went early in the morning to the ‘Toddy Man’, a few minutes away to get this coconut nectar for them for breakfast. Maria often used it to bake bread for them. At the breakfast table, as it was customary, they all said the ‘Grace before meal.’
Laura was going to join them later that morning, as she was staying over with her sister, not too far away.
(Toddy is the fresh initially non alcoholic sap from the coconut tree, It is sweet, if drunk after a few hours later, it is alcohol.)
Simon then said,
“Grandd, you are a Goan through and through. Have you been fishing, or have you also fished for the two-legged variety? What was the bait that you used in both cases?“
Grandd face turned scarlet, and said,
” I was not like Romeau. Why do you ask? I have not been fishing for a long time; I used to love it. I still remember when we went fishing with nets, four of us from the shore and wading in the sea waist deep. That was fun.”
Simon then chirped,
“I remember in Malindi on our holidays there with Dad, Averill, and Trevor we did the same. It was great, the clear water, and we caught all diverse kinds of fish. I have been talking to Maria, and she has never been fishing, or on a picnic.
That shocked me. Why do we not on Monday, go for a picnic, and a fishing trip to the Mandovi river? It is also a bird sanctuary.”
He added.
“In Kenya we often went for picnics combined with fishing. It was on the river. I still can remember as a young boy the excitement all of us, Trevor, Averill, Mum, Dad… in fact, the whole family had on these day excursions to Athi river.
Mum, can you remember we fished there, then cooked the fish, off course with rice and curry on three flat stones with wooden twigs.
The smoke added to the taste. I remember that we took a few tins of canned sardines, in case we caught naught but always returned home with the same tree tins of fish.
We were not so well off, so Dad and Grandad made up fishing rods for all of us.
Quite simple bamboo sticks, three meters, with fishing line attached to the end with a float, leaden weights and one or two hooks. The previous evening, we dug up a small hole in the back garden and got the earthworms with some earth we used as bait the next day. On our return, we buried the rest of the worms where we dug them from.
We all loved it, and often we had friends with us, and we had a singsong and sometimes played music.
Oh! I really miss those times. What do you think?”
A deadly silence followed, and then all said.
“Why not. Can we prepare the rods after breakfast, and where can we get bait? Earthworms, bread, or small bits of meat/beef.“
Simon said,
“Maria, can you prepare the Marsala for the fish curry, and the rice. I addition we need two flat bottom metal saucepans for the curry and rice. We need cutlery, plates. Brian are the folding chairs and table still in your car boot after the séance with Romeau in the cemetery?”
Brian said,
“All still there.”
Grandd with the final word said,
“Simon, you, and Brian prepare the fishing rods. I will give you what you need to make them as you suggested. Tuesday is better for me as I have an appointment on Monday. Brian, please check the weather forecast for Tuesday, and tell us if the sun will shine, or we have rain. Maria, you know what you have to do. So that is settled. When we hear from Brian about the weather forecast, we will make the final decision.”
Brian said that the forecast was good. He and Simon prepared the fishing rods, Maria the masala for the curry.
This had all played into his hands to try and understand and help Maria.
They all set off for their fishing trip on Tuesday, full of high spirits, and off course a few cans of beer, and a bottle of Coconut feni, and soft drinks.
The Picnic
Maria and Simon would be responsible for the cooking, and Brian, was responsible for the catching of the fish.
Simon told Maria that he would teach her how to fish as Simon Peter, and in turn she would show him how to cook Goan fish curry for the meal.
Maria and Simon did not have to wait a long time. The first catch was already delivered four large Mahseer. These river fish found on the Mandovi river are extremely tasty and are sought after by the Goan anglers. A titbit that Grandd had told Simon when he mentioned this fishing excursion.
Maria immediately took charge of proceedings.
She told him that the first lesson was to clean and prepare the fish for the pot.
In a matter of twenty minutes, she had done this.
Simon then told her that he would show her how to make a fire. He said that he had already selected the six flat stones for the two fires three stones per fire. After that he collected dry twigs and wood to fuel the fire.
He said that he had learnt this as a boy scout, and they often camped and cooked under the stars. However, their cooking was basic.
A few years later in London he shared a house with some Anglo-Indian friends. There his cooking skills had improved as Anglo-Indians are particularly good cooks. This skill however was missing from his siblings.
The two wood fuelled fires were burning ten minutes later. Maria had brought a lot of other ingredients prepared for the pot.
Simon looked around all the ti see where others were. They were at least fifty yards away on the banks of the river, out of earshot.
“Maria, “
He said,
“I will now tell you, my story.”
He then went on to relate to her his experiences in Kenya and England.
Brian returned and saw the two of them chin-wagging, and asked them what they were chatting about, it sounded interesting, and would they share it with him.
Simon said that he was telling her about their departure from Kenya and it was only to pass the time as they were waiting for the big fishers!
“Maria, she is brilliant and can cook anywhere. Brian why do you and I not get the folding table and chairs from the car so that we can eat in a civilised way here?”
They got the table and chairs, and Maria and Grandd the plates and cutlery and glasses.
Grandd saw what was on the table and said that it smelt good.
Grandd, Maria and Simon had Kingfisher beer, Brian only water as he was driving.
After the meal, Simon volunteered to clear up, while Grandd and Brian gave Maria fishing lessons.
He added,
“By the way Maria, your food was excellent, let us hope that you can catch something and not a cold,”
He said with a mischievous grin on his face.
Believe it or not she caught a fish, it was good size, and it went it into the fish basket. Both Maria and Grandd said that the picnic and fishing was very enjoyable, and this they should do more often.
The days event took a toll on all of them and on their return home they all headed for the comfort of their beds.
Simon told Maria, that part two of his story would be postponed to the next evening.
Part 2 of Simon’s story
The next evening after a quick feni on the terrace, both Simon and Maria said that they were tired and would retire to bed early. The others stayed a while and chatted. Maria followed Simon to his room, where he had prepared two fenis for them both. Maria then sat on the bed next to him.
Simon said that he wanted to show her that he also had severe problems when he arrived in London. If he had someone there to talk then maybe his experience would have been more bearable. He added that he hoped that she could free herself from the stigma of being a Poscum child, now as an adult, and he would help her.
She said,
“Thank you, Simon.
Where can I start? I will first say that what I say now is only for you as I trust you as you have yourself revealed your innermost secrets. I really appreciate what you have done and why.”
She said that Grandd, and the others have been incredibly good to her, and she was never treated like a stranger, or one that she did not belong to the Kika family.
She continued that she first realise that she was adopted , and what that meant was when she thinks she was seven years old. It was a shock to discover that what you thought was your real father and mother were not. Why she asked herself is that not the case. Did they die when she was little? However, outsiders treated her differently, as if she was not really family.
Who were her real family, and why did they abandon her? There was a lot of secrecy. However, she developed a very thick skin to keep her sanity.
She said further that Simon’s problems were different, hers were fundamental, her roots.
Why was she abandoned, and what hope was there for her in the future.
She continued,
“I was questioning my very existence. After some time, I gave up thinking and my expectations of the future were extremely low, at the bottom of the social ladder, nothing would change, just live from day to day.”
Simon was shocked, the hopelessness of the poor girl hit him. Another human being, one he knew, how could someone have so much despair.
He went to her and put his arms round her and hugged her.
There was only one thing on his mind, he would comfort her and try and give her some belief in herself.
He said,
“Maria, I want to comfort you and try and make you forget your pain. You deserve more. Come and lie next to me and do not feel alone.”
She lies on the bed facing him, and they look at each other and she smiles and says.
“Simon, this is the first time in my life that I have been physically so close and intimate with a man.
You with your warmth give me a feeling of belonging. You are very understanding. Not only this, you have told me intimate details I am sure no one else has heard before.
Your loneliness’ for varied reasons is in some ways similar to mine.
Lying next to you gives me a sense of security and being wanted. I never had this before, and now I do not feel alone.
When I am alone with you over the last few days, I feel comfortable and relaxed.
Thank you.”
She plants a kiss on his face spontaneously.
He feels the warmth in her voice and draws her close to him. He was like a guardian angel who had come to protect her and restore some of her womanhood, she did not feel unwanted, a Poscum,” but a human, and a woman.
Her face lit up radiantly, and she drew him to her with her arms.
“Was this just a dream?”
They lay next to each other and fell asleep.
The next day after the others had retired, she came to Simon’s room, and said.
“I want to hear the rest of your transformation, please, Simon.”
With my tail between my legs!
Simon then started to tell her the rest of his story.
“On my return from Wales to London, I had now to face the music. It was not going to be pleasant. I could not look my parents, friends, and family in the eye. Two years in Wales, a failure, my future looked very bleak. Both Averill and Trevor in my opinion were cleverer than me. All my ex-classmates from Nairobi, were success stories at the universities where they had studied.
Here was Simon, “Mrs Kika's a teachers son, a “Failure”, a “Drop-Out”. My parents had in addition financed part of my stay in Wales for two years, it was not “Peanuts”. I was now very depressed, as all the blame was fairly and squarely on me.
Luckily it was the summer, and I took up a casual job back where I had worked in the previous summer holiday, to get some money, and then decide what my next steps should be. Remember that I had my “Tail between my legs”, and had no one to ask for help or advice. I should have had help before I went to university as to what subjects I should take.
I thought to myself there were a few positives that had come out in my two years there. I was “No longer Mrs. Kikas son”, as I had in London very little contact with those from Dr. Ribeiro’s. My cooking skills had now developed, as I was living in the last year in a self-catering hall. We were eight boys, a large kitchen and each one his own space for his provisions. One or two could cook, so I picked up cooking quickly. I had a few intimate relations with girlfriends. These took me for what I was. Something that would never take place at home, as for them there was only route one, marry first. This was the same trusted route they all had followed so why should it be different for me. By now you will have realised that Simon often never did what was expected of him.
When I returned back to Forest Hill, to our family home, I was not put out to dry on the rack. My brother had cheated death, when he contacted meningitis and septicaemia. This happened in 1970 during The World Cup” in Brazil, and my parents had not told me how serious this was.
Meningococcal meningitis (inflammation of the lining of the brain and spinal column) and septicaemia (blood poisoning) are rare but severe diseases that can kill or leave people with life changing disabilities and health problems. Both meningitis and septicaemia can lead to sepsis.
My brother never completely recovered from this, and he was afraid to make decisions and was always looking for support.
I turned my hand occasionally at cooking, surprised my mother and family. I got a temporary job back at the DHSS where I had jobbed the previous summer. Carried on playing hockey, with a lot of success. Applied for a permanent job at the DHSS Cargreen Road, South Norwood London and was accepted.
That was my “Break-through”, a permanent job, and by playing hockey, got to know many people, including Anglo-Indians, whom I befriended. Living in a small “Self-Catering” hall, living away from home for two years, with a new group of friends both at work and playing hockey, I soon desired to have my own “independence”.
My “cultural straight-jacket” was a thing of the past, thanks to living in Wales. The “hiccup” of suffering isolation at “Forest Hill School”, had now become a distant memory. It seemed that I had picked up the pieces where I had left off at Delamere School in Nairobi with our sudden unplanned departure.
I was still very close both to my brother and sister, and my parents, but wanted my independence. Something that my family could not understand. I had to look after myself.
I love my family, but must make my own life in London. My brother and sister, were both happy to live at home. A few years later, my sister married an English Cockney, moved and bought a house not too far from our parents, and over forty years later still living there.
What next Simon Kika?
Funny enough when I was young, I thought that I had been accidentally swapped at the “baby station”. While I loved my family, I was so different, and to this day will not take a D.N.A test to see the results.
Simon Wags his tail!
The lessons learnt at “Dr. Ribeiro’s School”, “Delamere School”, “Forest Hill School”, “Aberystwyth”, were not forgotten. I was accepted for the position of “Supp. Ben. Visiting” officer at the DHSS in South Norwood, so my financial security was guaranteed.
Then I moved from the “Family Nest” in Forest Hill, to share a house with my two male Anglo-Indian hockey friends Don and Ken Baker in Croydon. They were good cooks, so there I developed my skills there. What was interesting was that their cuisine was “Eastern not in the Goan mould”, and there we kept a clean house without and feminine intervention.
I got my “Wheels”. No, I spoke about “Meals”, and it was not “Meals on Wheels”.
Actually, it was two wheels, as I bought a “1970 BSA 175cc Bantam D10 “motor cycle. There I quickly learnt after six-month quarantine period, and being covered in grease, basic maintenance, and ready for the “Black and White Minstrel” show. Three months later, I sold it and bought a Honda 125 CC motorcycle. I could now wear decent clothes when riding this machine. This was necessary, as I was a “Supp. Ben. Visiting” officer, and had to visit claimants at their homes. Previously I had to interview claimants at the Counter.
Getting to know people who are poor
To know people who are not well of, is not easy.
Normally we judge people by their appearance, behaviour. Working at the DHSS in “Social Security”,department is another dimension.
The poor person, before he can receive any financial aid, must lay out his stall. A very degrading exercise for the person to do this before a stranger. The clientele here come from the following categories. Pensioners, unemployed, and mainly women with children. They must provide proof of any savings, income their rent, At the counter the people are generally desperate, and either get a giro payment based on their circumstances, and rules laid down. For many it is the last stop to starvation, and is extremely a sad and degrading experience for the “claimant”, as well as a painful experience for the interviewing officer. This for me was quite a shocking experience, and taught me a lot about poverty, This is the safety net provided by the state.
She looked at Simon with disbelief and said
“Wow, must have been a shocking experience for you.”
He nodded his head.
“I for the first time in my life was confronted with poverty. The desperation of the people looking for help, really moved me.
Previously you only read about these things in the newspapers, not in “real life”, and not only one …. but many desperate people.
It made me want to cry, and often I left the interviewing chamber for a few minutes to compose myself.
People are desperate, for money, and many mouths at home to feed. You may think to yourself, “You brought it on to yourself, However that is not all, children at home starving.
Maria, this really opened my eyes, and had a profound impact on me. This was reality, not some article in the newspaper, and you did not know the person.
It was very difficult to come to terms for me, and often when I went back home, the scene played back on my mind. This has now finally been etched into my memory, never to be forgotten.
Maria, I am glad that I have had these experiences, as they have shaped the person you now see.
I was at the front end on the “Counter” for nearly nine months. It was definitely not plain sailing, as often, the person was told that no payment would be made then, and they would have to return. This was the case for recent unemployed people. The worse day was on a Friday, afternoon, when the claimant was told that there would be no payment made, for whatever reason, this sometimes resulted in abusive language to the staff, and on occasions the police had to be called in.
People were really desperate, how they and their families would survive the weekend. I did not share some of these horror stories with my family, or flatmates, as what the claimant tells you is confidential. However I had to mentally digest this, and it was very painful. Horror stories of domestic violence often by the man, were a common theme. It was pity full as it was often fuelled by alcohol, and the man took it out on the wife and children. This part for me was extremely hard to take. Even though you are not a social worker, you are the “end-station” for the poor people, there is nowhere else to turn.
Luckily, I got to know a few people working there, Not everyone can work there. You need to have a “Social Conscience”, and what is really good all the staff pulled together.
A few months later, I became a “Visiting officer”. That opened my eyes further, as I visited some of the same people I interviewed on the counter at their home.
The other “Visiting” officers, had cars, there were two of us who visited on motorbikes. These were routine visits made to the claimant after a few months of receiving benefit.
Visiting the claimants in their own home was generally good. I had only one nasty experience, where as soon as I entered the persons house, I felt sick, as there was a terrible smell from the “mouldy walls”, and left immediately.
However most of the other house visits were interesting as the person was at home, in his/her own surroundings often offered me a cup of tea. The conversation was more relaxed, as notification of the visit was sent a few days earlier. You then politely asked the person if you could see the rest of the house, to see that everything was in order, and that they did not need a grant for the children’s clothes, for example. This personal touch enhances both the person’s and my view.
On two occasions, there was a positive outcome from mine and their points of view, as on my recommendation both clients were offered clerical assistant jobs in our department and did well, and got them out of the “Poverty Trap”. I must have looked a sight, as I had a motorbike, and with my “Crash-helmet” looked anything apart from a Civil Servant,
There were however a number of things which shocked me. The level of domestic violence mainly by the man against his family.
The causes of this were complex, however it resulted in broken families, and very often extreme violence by the man against his wife, or partner causing a rapid breakdown in their relationship, a painful separation, and poverty as the woman had to look after her family, and could not work.
This was apart from ensuring that the man did not re-enter the family home to threaten them.
While I was not directly concerned with this aspect of the relationship, it did leave its scars on me. There were on the other side immature young women who had a number of children from different men. The complexities of these cases, I left to the social worker, as it was not within my brief, and also, I had no training to handle such social problems, only to witness them.
This unfortunately left scars on the children and me, and often the children followed in their parents/mother’s footsteps which made it even sadder.
All these experiences had their toll on me, as I was so helpless. However that is the reality of life, and one must understand and accept it. Life is not a “Bed of Roses”, there are many “Thorns”.
Looking back on my life, I am glad that I had such experiences, as it opened my eyes, and I was not in “Cuckoo Land”.
It was there where I met some very good friends Pete and David and the entire exercise was for me “Character building”, and to a large extent shaped my thoughts on a number of social controversial subjects.
Maria, as you see all these experiences, Dr. Ribeiro’s, Delamere, Forest Hill School, Aberystwyth University, and then the DHSS gave me the “softness”, and I now am so glad that I have had these experiences, even though at the time they had a profound impact on me.
My parents, siblings and most of my friends would have never experience these things. Poverty, marital violence, prejudice for whatever reason are part of life, and we need to be able to handle these.
Maria, I hope that I have not shocked you, and that is why I want to help you. Remember you are not alone, We all love you.”
“Simon”,
she said,
“Thank you for sharing such dramatic experiences with me, I am so glad that I know you.”
She then planted two kisses on both of his cheeks.
She added,
“it is nearly three in the morning, we both need to sleep.”
She slept like a baby in his arms. A few hours later she woke, and went to her room after the alarm went.
“Rrrr-Rrr Rrrr-Rrr”.
They both opened their eyes, smiled at each other as they realised that both had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.
She then returned to her room quietly without waking the others.
She then thought to herself, that it was the first time in her life that she had slept next to anyone, let alone a man. He was so kind and gentle, there was no intimate contact. In the morning, at the breakfast table, he gave her a little wink and smile.
When she was in the kitchen, Simon said to Laura, Grandd and Brian.
“Maria has been serving Grandd for many years without complaining, I spoke with her when you were busy fishing and realise that she still feels lonely. Why do we not do something for her. We all love her, and she never complains.
Let us try and give her some happiness, and a life to look forward to. She deserves that chance to meet someone and fall in love. We need to build her self-confidence, think of herself as a "Kika", not a “Poscum.”
A new wardrobe, and taking part in other activities would be great, like dancing.”
He continued and then they all said that they loved her. He he was willing to put some money towards a new wardrobe for her. He hoped that they as well would like to contribute.
“Grandd,”
He asked,
“How do you manage the finances of the household with her. Does she get pocket money?”
Grandd replied that it was not formalised, when she went shopping for food, he would give her money, and she accounts for it on her return, she gets no pocket money.
Simon said that he would contribute and if they all put their hands in their pockets, she would be slightly more independent.
He added,
“I will talk with Margret our neighbour who gets on with Maria, if she can help, initially clothes shopping, and then introducing Maria to her many friends, and social activities. This would be a good start. What do you all think of this?”
Laura, immediately said that it was a promising idea, and wondered why they had not thought of it long ago. She was willing to contribute both to a new wardrobe as well as a regular sum every month.
Grandd, who was well off, turned red in the face.
He said that it was a particularly promising idea, and that he would contribute the lion’s share both to her new wardrobe as well as giving her a handsome monthly allowance.
Brian added that he would contribute towards a new wardrobe as well as a regular sum every month for her.
Simon said that he would get the ball rolling and ask Margret if she could accompany them shopping later that day, and he would put it on his credit card as his initial contribution.
“Why do we all do not eat out and have a late lunch, Maria does not need to cook. “
He continued and said that he would go right away and ask Margret if she would accompany them shopping for Maria. He returned shortly and said that Margret had time and that they could go out later that morning.
The trip was a success, as Margret knew exactly where to go, and in the space of a few hours Maria had a new wardrobe.
All of them including Margret went to their favourite restaurant Spice Goa, in the centre of Mapusa, where they had a big meal. They took back some chapatis and beef curry for their evening meal.
The impromptu party continued with the evening meal, which was accompanied by coconut feni cocktails, Margret suggested a “Maria Cat’s Walk.” She made several appearances in the dining room, wearing the different clothes they had bought.
“Wow,”
Grandd said.
“Maria you are very pretty, and the clothes make you look a different person.”
Margret then suggested that she would accompany Maria the next day to the hairdresser.
Then took Maria to her own hairdresser. She made Maria wear some of her new clothes, and then finally took her to the photographer studio, where he took some photographs of her alone, and also her with Margret.
A few days later the packet arrived in the post from the photographer.
Grandd, opened the packet, saw what was inside, and was astonished. Maria looked a different person, in her new outfit, and hair styled.
He placed the photographs on the dining table, before the midday meal, visible to everyone.
Everyone at the dining table agreed, she was very pretty, and Maria herself felt that she looked a different person and hoped that things would get better.
The chrysalis is born
This next transformation in Maria, everyone agreed was great and should have been done earlier. With her monthly income from Grandd, and our contribution to her monthly spending money, would give her a lot of independence. Margret now was her best friend, and broadened Maria’s contact with the outside world. There was more to this. She had previously only cooked on three stones. Grandd, got her a proper cooker and oven, this replaced the wood fires she cooked on. She was enrolled on a three-week cooking course, where she migrated to, to an electric cooker and oven. There she also learnt to bake. Her cooking skills were taken to another level.
This increase in her confidence continued, and she a few months later was in the church choir.
Maria then reluctantly agreed to accompany Margret twice a month to her dancing school. In leaps and bounds Maria’s confidence increased. She was now a woman, and an attractive one at that, and now had a “Spring” in her step.
Simon meanwhile had returned to London, and they started writing letters to each other. He was so pleased that she had blossomed.
He himself was in and out of relationships, as he had a highly demanding job as an IT specialist and was frequently travelling.
The upside of his job meant that he could also do a lot of his work remotely, and this meant that he could for four weeks go to Goa and work from there. Goa was his paradise, and also his love for it had developed, since his last visit.
He informed Grandd and Maria about his visit, and both were incredibly happy and looked forward to his stay.
As his plane touched down in Goa, the welcoming committee of Grandd and Maria were there to meet him.
He had also contacted Brian, and on his return flight he would stop at Bombay for one week.
As he opened the front door to their family house, nothing had changed.
Maria had however blossomed further. She was no longer the simple young lady but had taken pains as how she looked. She seemed to have got some self-esteem. This was a very pleasant change that Simon had noticed. Grandd also seemed to have a sparkle in his eyes and was smartly dressed.
Simon said,
“Wow what a reception, from both of you.”
Maria then said,
“It is nice that you all are here, and I hope you understand what I have to say, what I did and why.
A number of things have happened to me since I was on the Catwalk a few years ago.
I was thirty years old, a “Poscum child,” and even though before that my adopted family, the “Kikas”, treated me as one of the family, I still knew that I was adopted, but did not know who my natural father and mother were.
I am now aware of myself, and my life. My early life was not the norm. I have grown in confidence and developed other skills which before I could only dream about or was unaware of.
I have learnt to cook in a proper kitchen with electricity, previously I cooked on three stones. I also learnt to bake cakes and make Christmas sweets which are part of our Goan tradition. This when I was in my late twenties and early thirties.
Before this was “Pie in the Sky”, and was envious of what the others in my age group had, and were able to do.
My English improved, and I was able to correspond, and write letters, and was not terrified of talking on the phone. Off course all this took some time, but then I became a totally different person, with more confidence and belief. This materialised itself when with this new acquired self-confidence, I wanted to find out about my parents, and why I was adopted.
I spoke to Grandd about this and asked him to give me not only information why I was adopted, but also information about my natural parents. He gave me all the information that he had.
Wow, I thought, I was going to find out about my mother. My father James De’Mello unfortunately went to Bombay with the shame of leaving the seminary, he then broke off all contacts with former friends or relatives.
I subsequently contacted my natural Aunt Mary Da’ costa who lived not too far away. She was so surprised with my visit, but when I briefly told her that I was now happy, had to some extent come to terms with the nature of my birth.
I wanted to meet my real mother, to have someone who I could belong to and find out about her past and any information about my dad.
Aunty Mary arranged for me and my natural mother to meet, and was present at the first meeting.
Bella nee Fernandes, my natural mother, now in lived in Candolim with her husband Peter Lobo.
Initially she was surprised that I wanted to meet her after all these years, but when I told her that I had changed positively the last few years and now felt that it was the time that we should meet.
Bella after the initial shock had worn out said that I looked good, and spontaneously I gave her a hug, and she was my prodigal mother.
The first meeting went well, and we both agreed to meet again soon. I felt so good after that. I had found my own flesh and blood, my mother. I then met her often and she told me that she was devastated in having to give me away as she had me when she was only seventeen. She often thought about me, a “Poscum” given away, and now she was so happy to meet me again, her daughter, her own flesh and blood.
She then was very much in love with James. They wanted to marry, but because he himself was a “Poscum,” and because of the caste system that exists, this was not possible, that he left Goa with a heavy heart and broke off all further contact.
I then told them what had happened to me, and that I was now married to Peter Lobo, had no children of my own. I then told him that he should meet Grandd, and Simon, Brian Kika, Laura, and Margret D’Souza my best friend, who were responsible for me to feel like a person, and a woman again.
We subsequently had a lot of contact between our families, and I am here today saying that I am proud of the Kika family and thank Simon for this lovely occasion.
Simon then said,
“You are all well dressed; I am so pleased. The red carpet is all that is missing. I have also a few pleasant surprises for you both.”
He gave Grandd a hug, and Maria a friendly kiss and was so happy to have played a part in her transformation. For Grandd he gave him a nice watch, and for Maria and Margret a mini holiday for four days with him to Bombay to see Brian.
I hope that you have enjoyed this story, There are facts wrapped up in “Creative envelopes”
References about Poskems in Goa!
- Signed Book 215: The Green Room by Wendell Rodricks: A Memoir Stitched with Style, Courage, and Goa.
https://www.reddit.com/r/Indianbooks/comments/1nptn7q/signed_book_215_the_green_room_by_wendell/
- Fashion Designer Exposes Domestic Servitude in India's 'Sunshine State'
Comments
Post a Comment