Monday 27 June 2005

Fishy Mangalore

By Maxwell Pereira
mfjpkamath@gmail.com

As I am writing this one, I am in Mangalore – the town in which I grew up, went to school and spent my childhood. Most of that period of memory a fifty years in the past, in a family home in Karangalpady-Kodiyalbail when parents were still living in Mangalore, and some more in the boarding at St. Aloysius’ when they moved out bag and baggage to cooler climes in the western ghats and Bangalore. Now on a visit here yet again, I find Mangalore not changed in many ways. One of them, its delightful fish eating ways.
As children, the afternoon meal consisted of a fish menu and the evening one had meat. Staple rice and curry for the mid-day meal. Curry meant fish curry, and fish meant mostly seafood, not from the abounding rivers, rivulets and ponds (a fare not completely ignored either). Each day a different variety of fish, depending on the season and the catch available in the market: Tharle (sardines), Bangude (mackerels), Iswonn (seer), Rounce (Indian salmon), Ssanctter (catfish), Kaane (ladyfish), Sscannakki (kingclip), Yerlio (whitings – some called these silverfish too), Shevto with its gaantt and peri, Sondalle, Pampletan (pomfret), Sungtaan (prawns), Kurlio (crabs), Khube (clams) and a plethora of shell-fish…. Whatever! The variety, unlimited.
And if at the evening table too there had to be fish, then it’d be fried fare – gorgeously fried on a flat pan in shallow oil for a well massala’d crusty cover, with the still soft fibrously brittle and breakable flesh inside moistily dry, and not oily or leathery. How they managed that… well, ask the Managaloreans! Only they manage such incredible fish cuisine feats! And fish it invariably was, when the evening table stuck to staple congee. Chapattis on the menu, then a meat dish inevitably thrown in. Believe me, Mangaloreans were, and are, great meat eaters too!
But what was staple then for most homes was congee in the mornings – at the breakfast table too. Which meant different varieties of fish fare for the day’s first meal – Mangaloreans believed in three square meals a day – whatever else be there or not, in the form of a variety of chutneys for nishthen or side-dish. And to match the sharpness of the chutneys, in fish it had to be attailly-kadi which the Goans called kalchi-kadi – the previous day’s left over fish curry cooked dry to a paste in smoked earthenware handis; and/or kharen (dried shark and a variety of salt-fish) fried. Fresh clam cooked in its own soup thel-piao style was among favourites too, and the occasional fresh garden vegetable cooked in similar thel-piao as a not-too-boring but sobering and stabilizing break now and again.
For so much fishy fare for a whole population of the city and its neighbourhood, fish had to be in plenty. More importantly, one needed to be well versed in the art of buying fish too. Early in life one learnt to sniff and haggle – to develop a sharp sense of smell, and to bargain with fisherwomen who formed the bulk of fish vendors. Or else end up with not just a lighter purse, but also inedible fish gone high in the humid tropical heat.
Unique to Mangalore, perhaps in other coastal markets too, is the system of selling fish by ‘quantities’ and not by weight (by the kg) as elsewhere. By tradition and practice, both the fisherwomen and the consuming public along the coastal belt have developed a keen sense of fixing the rate by merely looking a the ‘lot’ of fish, pre-arranged by size and/or in numbers, the rate variable depending on the fish catch of the day and its quantum availability at a given point in time. So one took no chances. It was only the most experienced and not the novice, to venture a hand at buying fish!
But experience came by education. And education on this came to me as would have to any child in my town, much before we stepped into our age of a double figure. When elders and others more adept in the art were busy perhaps with unavoidable and more important pre-occupations, and it fell to my lot to secure from the market something to make the family table interesting, yours truly used to be packed off with a four-anna or a six-annna jingle in the pocket to the fish market, to return with enough that would not only gladden the family stomachs for the day but also carry over to the next.
Many are the times I have faltered, stumbled, and failed, to face the wrath of those around the table for a lousy job done, for being rooked and cheated into paying more for a measly small lot, or for carrying home stale fish, or the thorny-bony pedi instead of the like looking tharle….At times also the occasional well-earned kudos for an excellent buy that soared the contented family’s feelings high.
I learnt quick, for that was the only opportunity I got to hire a cycle clandestinely, something that faced parental sanctions and taboo for reasons of a youngster’s safety on the road, understandably though the craze of any kid at that age. Not only did I have to return with a bounty that satisfied the family palates and raised no eyebrows on account of quality, quantity of fish or the amount paid, but also with the need to save the half-anna it then cost to hire the junior cycle for the half-hour marketing stint involved. So the need to hone my fish-buying skills, and be good at it!
The family then had puzzled through it all: how did I manage it all in such super fast speed. That remained my secret till now!
900 words
27.06.2005: Copyright © Maxwell Pereira: 3725 Sector-23 HUDA, Gurgaon-122001
Available at: 0124-5111025 /026 /027: at http://www. maxwellpereira.com and mfjpkamath@gmail.com

Tuesday 21 June 2005

Monsoon Facts….

Monsoon Facts….
By Maxwell Pereira
mfjpkamath@gmail.com

The ‘mon-soon’ this year is ‘mon-late’… screamed a headline the other day, describing what’s foremost on the minds of most people ‘midst this blistering season of heat in Delhi and most other parts of north India around this time. As the heat wave sweeps across the land with its mercy-less broom, everyone is waiting in anticipation for the rains to come and cool down the climes, to relieve all from the furnacy climate that makes life a living hell, miserable and scorching.
To escape the rigours of the blistering summer, a minimissal few who can afford head to hill-stations or lands across the seas or mountains. While those who cannot, just suffer and wilt away even while hoping for the desert-ly loo bearing dusty winds to change to moisture laden rain bearing ones, for relief and succour to fauna, flora and the human stock alike.
In actual fact, the much awaited ‘monsoon’ hardly touches Delhi and surrounding parts of north India – unlike it does most of south India or north-eastern India that experience its real impact. For some of us who grew up in the South, monsoon meant the rains and the rainy season, there being only three seasons in a year – the summer, rainy and the winter, to contend with.
Even so, the very term ‘monsoon’ owes its origin, we are told, to the Arabic mausin or mausem which means season (…or the season of winds) - most often applied to the seasonal reversals of the wind direction along the shores of the Indian Ocean, and especially in the Arabian Sea, that blow from the southwest during one half of the year and from the northeast during the other.
Traditionally, the legendary Greek sailor Hippalus was credited to have been the first to use the monsoon to speed across the Indian Ocean, and so the ancient name for the monsoon was also called Hippalus. But perhaps he was simply the first Greek to master the monsoon, since Yemeni sailors were known to be trading with India long before his time.
A monsoon seasonal change is characterized by a variety of physical mechanisms which produce strong seasonal winds, a wet summer and a dry winter. All monsoons share three basic physical mechanisms: differential heating between the land and oceans; Coriolis forces due to the rotation of the Earth; and the role of water which stores and releases energy as it changes from liquid to vapour and back. The combined effect of these three mechanisms produces the monsoon's characteristic reversals of high winds and precipitation.
Scientists have described two key ingredients needed to make a monsoon – a hot land mass and a cooler ocean. Monsoons occur when land heats up and cools down quicker than water. In summer, the land reaches a higher temperature than the ocean, making the air over it to rise – thereby causing an area of low pressure to make winds from areas of high pressure to blow over areas of low pressure. The constant moisture laden wind thus blowing from the ocean causes rainfall when it rises up and gets cooled. Conversely, in winter since the land cools down quickly, the ocean is warmer. Air then rises, causing a low over the ocean. The wind then blows back out over the ocean. Since the temperature difference between the ocean and land is less than in summer, this wind is not as constant.
Along this basic principle, the land mass of the Indian sub-continent absorbs heat faster from the sun than the surrounding Indian Ocean does. Consequently as the air rises, a cooler, moistier, and heavier air from over the ocean replaces it. This damp, cool layer over India is estimated to be up to three miles thick. As the cool air arrives, the winds also shift. During dry season, the winds blow offshore, from land to sea. Then, as the monsoon begins, the winds blow onshore, from sea to land. In the case of the Indian Ocean Monsoon the first and third mechanisms produce more intense effects than in any other place in the world.
Monsoons do occur in other parts of the world too, like in Australia and in the southwest portions of the United States. As monsoons have gradually been understood better, the term has now been broadened to include almost all phenomena associated with the annual weather cycle within the tropical and subtropical continents of Asia, Australia and Africa, and the adjacent seas, and to indicate climatic systems anywhere in which the moisture increases dramatically in the warm season. The Asian monsoon, which affects the Indian subcontinent and southeast part of the Asia, is the most noted of the monsoons.
The more popular south-western summer monsoons occur from June to September. Intense low pressure developed over central Asia, makes the jet stream of south-eastern winds to blow over this area, passing over south-east Asia, which experiences large amounts of rainfall in this period. Meanwhile, the south-west monsoon is drawn towards the Himalayas, creating winds blowing rain clouds towards India, which receive up to 400 or more inches of rain in some areas.
The north-eastern winter monsoons take place from December to early March – when temperatures over central Asia are lower, creating a zone of high pressure there. The resultant jet stream directing north-easterly winds to blow across south Asia create dry air streams that produce clear skies over India from the months of November to May. Meanwhile, a low pressure system develops over northern Australia and winds are directed towards Australia. During the NE winter monsoon, apart from north-eastern India, south-east Asia and Australia too receive large amounts of rainfall.
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copyright © Maxwell Pereira
Available at mfjpkamath@gmail.com ; or +0124-5111025 /…026/…027
Website: www.maxwellpereira.com

Tuesday 14 June 2005

Staying Alive

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articleshow/1141193.cms
http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/articlelist/-2128669051.cms

Times of India: EDITORIAL
BRIEF CASE:
Staying Alive
By MAXWELL PEREIRA

TUESDAY, JUNE 14, 2005
They say with advancement and development in society, life expectancy is getting longer. Even so, in this day and age it is rare to come across a centenarian, and rarer still is a super-centenarian who has crossed 110. Unlike the time when I grew up, there were many among us Mangaloreans who could then boast of more than one member in the family who had crossed a hundred. Documented in history are around 800 super-centenarians, doubtless a fraction of the number who have really lived, but the majority of claims to this age do not normally have sufficient documentary support to be regarded as valid. Three different types of documentation are used to verify age — birth or baptismal certificate, marriage certificate and census data.
Even though there may have been many more who lived beyond, it is widely believed that Jeanne-Louise Calment was the oldest human being having lived till the age of 122 years and 164 days and died in 1997. The oldest living man recognised by the Guinness Book is Shigechiyo Izumi who lived between 1865 to 1986. And the oldest human alive today is Hendrikie van Andel of Netherlands who was born on June 29, 1890. A social visit to Sterling, Scotland for my son Prashanth has assumed special significance on learning that his great-grand-aunt Lucy D' Abreu lives there. She just happens to be the oldest living human being today in the UK, who turned 113 on May 24. Of ethnic Indian origin and a Mangalorean born in India in 1892, we know of her in the community as the widow of Abundius. And Prashanth's maternal grandmother Joyce who lives in Morpeth, Northumberland is Lucy's niece, her late mother Josephine being Lucy's first cousin. Lucy's age has been authenticated by the Guinness Book of World Records. There are only 11 other people around the world older to her, as per the records maintained by the Gerontology Research Group, affiliated with the UCLA School of Medicine, of the oldest people alive.
The writer is a retired police officer.