Having only read about Goa’s khazan lands so far, I was fascinated by their conception as common pool resources. This network of low-lying marshy spaces reclaimed from the sea or rivers are engineered artefacts to increase cultivable land, dating back to almost 3,500 years. I participated in the Imagination Walks organised by Transitions Research in collaboration with Travelling Dome. The group included architects, activists, students and interested citizens from Panjim and surrounding areas. We walked along Ponte de Linhares causeway where the Mandovi river flowed on our left. Lined with red mangroves, the river was framed by Mandovi bridge and the grand cable-stayed Atal Setu Bridge.
We jumped up on the protective wall of the causeway and walked on it to get a better view of the mangrove roots crowded with plastic bottle and other bits of urban refuse. I took note of silt deposits and the expanding mud flap which had been a recurring topic of conversation in many of my encounters over the last two months. We learned how the rich clayey soil is great for the growth of mangroves and has helped foster habitats for barnacles and oyster. Some shared concerns about how mangrove roots have overgrown in certain regions and have disturbed the foundation of heritage structures along riverfronts.
We were headed to the salt pans which dot the right side of the causeway and are a crucial part of the khazans. These saline wetlands are characterised by bundhs or dykes, a sluice gate to control water flow, poim which is a low-lying depression as a protection against high tide and the presence of mangroves on (at least) one side. Traditionally, khazans were held by the comunidade – a land association and farming collective of male (usually upper caste) village members which was codified during Portuguese rule (Nielson et al, 2022: 232). Our group arrived at the sluice gate where we observed water gushing into the river and learned about fishing techniques at the inlet. As we then continued to the bundh made from lateritic soil, I was amazed at the grid of salterns before me.
I saw waterlogged salterns, a section of dried land and a water channel along the pans. The salterns are filled with only two inches of water which is left to set and dry. This process of natural evaporation is aided by a continuous stirring of the water with a large wooden rake, which we were able to observe in real time. The making and maintenance of edges of the salterns is a labour-intensive process undertaken every preparatory season from December to January. The clay is levelled by foot stomping and edges are smoothened using bamboo stick tools such as saalon (Mani et al, 2012). Migrant labour from neighbouring states comprise a majority of the workers on the salt pans. As I notice them stirring the water, I wonder if the management of the systems by migrant workers play a role in conceptualising what could be understood as ‘practices of commoning’?
I learned that this salt pan was no longer held communally but instead had an individual owner. Participants of the walk discussed the economic viability of these heritage ecosystems and community commitment to keeping this marshy land alive. I think back to my conversation with Frida (pseudonym) who I met at a college where she teaches architecture. As a leading activist voice in the protection of Goa’s eco-sensitive areas, she encouraged me think about what makes the khazans a commons. Do changes to one part of the system alter the whole mode of land holding? I think about hypothetical changes in the material make up of bundhs, the technology used for sluice gates or cultivation techniques. Does this framing of ‘parts within a whole’ help me pay attention to material elements and everyday practices amidst changing forms of ownership?
All photos taken by the author.
References:
Mani, K., Salgaonkar, B. B., Das, D., & Bragança, J. M. (2012). Community solar salt production in Goa, India. Aquatic Biosystems, 8(1). https://doi.org/10.1186/2046-9063-8-30
Nielsen, K. B., Bedi, H. P., & Silva, D. S. (2022). The Great Goa Land Grab. Goa 1556.