THE TOURISTIFICATION OF DAILY LIFE

When Locals Become Spectators

- By Gauri Ghadge

Goa has always worn two faces with ease. One is the postcard the world knows: palm-lined beaches, late-night parties, carnival floats, and heritage homes bathed in golden light. The other is quieter but no less vital: the poder's early morning bread run, fishermen at dawn in Mapusa market, neighbours catching up over poi and chai, and evenings punctuated by temple bells or church chimes.

For decades, these worlds coexisted, enriching one another. Tourism sustained livelihoods while Goan culture gave tourism its soul. But in recent years, the balance has tilted. As visitor numbers swell, over 10.4 million in 2024, and another 5.45 million arrivals in just the first half of 2025, the fabric of daily life is being reshaped. For a state with a population of around 1.6 million, the scale is striking. What scholars call touristification, when everyday routines bend to the demands of outsiders, is becoming visible in Goa. And for many Goans, the unsettling feeling is not hostility, but dissonance: the sense of becoming spectators in their own story.

WHEN THE EVERYDAY BECOMES ENTERTAINMENT

Step into the Mapusa market on a Saturday morning. For locals, it is simply about buying bangde, bhindi, or bananas. For visitors, it is a spectacle: cameras snap, reels are shot, and what was once an errand becomes an "authentic Goan experience."

The same applies to tiatr, a beloved form of community theatre. Increasingly, it is marketed as "cultural entertainment," sometimes shortened or subtitled to suit evening itineraries. Even festivals have been repackaged. São João, traditionally celebrated with prayers and playful jumps into village wells, is now promoted as a monsoon "pool party."

None of this is malicious; Goa has always shared its culture generously. But the difference between sharing and staging is subtle. When daily life is constantly rearranged for outside eyes, the essence that makes it special risks dilution.