As traditional celebrations go, there is no beating the style at the "Bigfoot", in Lotolim. Each year, the festivals, dear to the populace are celebrated here with a panache that brings back memories of the past, in golden force. The feast of Sao João, which is at the time of the beginning of the Monsoons, commemorates the sacrament of Baptism, in the Catholic community. The rituals of jumping in the wells, tying empty coconuts around the waist as floats and learning to dive and swim, have all passed into obscurity. With the advent of the words "Bash", "Splash"and so on this festival celebrated in an antique style is now outdated. Therefore, witnessing the past come alive, at a place which is redolent with history, is always an immense pleasure.

Like in the past years the inhabitants of "Ancestral Goa", at the Bigfoot put on their natural wreaths of creepers and flowers, donned their palm-leaf skirts and armed with drums and the thick stem of the palm-leaf, shouted "Viva re Sao João !" What was witnessed was people of different residences coming forth with throaty yells and a very contagious excitement.

Steamed "Patoleos", boiled gram with coconut and jaggery were served to the hundred odd guests who thronged the site in the correct spirit of "Sao João", wearing wreaths and big smiles.

Our traditions, the festivals, rites and rituals are all followers of a singularly aesthetic and iindividual style. It is indicative; that we are more often than not, creatures of habit and decades of the same is not in any way an indicator of change.

Sao Joao, for instance, is the feast of the catholic saint who instituted the sacrament of baptism for us, when he initiated it with Christ, himself. Today, the ritual of jumping into the well is considered an enactment of the same rite. What is then the other version of it? The other side is the more practical aspect which incorporates no religious purpose but that of a society evolving around its own need and enforcing this need into traditions.

Empty coconuts were tied around the waists of young men who were taught to dive and swim at an early age. The coconuts acted as floats and the instruction was so as to ensure these young men could dive into wells to fetch pots or even livestock that inadvertently ended in the wells as a result of a broken rope or carelessness.

Traditions are good. They keep alive the essence of a race ensuring the continuity of their history. This is the stuff that forms the backbone for lore and legends. The next time you hear the following words "In my grandmother's time....", you will assuredly be surprised to find that there is a prosaic practicality hidden in there.