This blog explores how traditional Goan houses and building methods embody a deep climatic intelligence that often goes ignored through contemporary shifts in construction, creating spaces that might not be suitable for elderly residents who spend much of their time within the home.
As avó moved through the house at an unhurried pace, each small task eventually drew her back to the balcão (verandah), where she sat reading the morning paper, rising only at the sound of the poder calling out down the street. Her feet felt cool as they rested against the red-oxide floors, as a gentle breeze drifted in through this space and escaped through the terracotta tiled roof above. This quiet passive cooling, woven into the very structure of the house, carried a comfort, even in the peak of the 12 o’clock sun, capable of lulling one into an afternoon sleep. As the hours passed, she remained seated there, greeting passersby and exchanging fragments of conversation with neighbours who occupied the same narrow threshold at the edge of their own homes.
This “third space”, as one could call it, is drawn back from the harsh glare of the sun and held beneath deep overhangs, a narrow strip between the privacy of the home and the public street, carrying with it a softness that allows for the elderly to rest and occasionally yell at each other to send over missing ingredients. It is within these quiet elements that the spirit of “susegad”, a term familiar in the Goan household as an unhurried way of living, is gently sustained. Repeated from house to house, these balcões stretched along the street as a continuous social edge, stitching individual homes into a larger collective rhythm of living.
Yet the comfort of this edge does not exist in isolation. The entire module of the Goan house is shaped through a nuanced understanding of climate, where every element works to mitigate heat and make daily life much gentler for its residents, particularly those who often spend long hours within the home. What may appear informal to the eyes of a formally trained designer is, in reality, a settlement shaped over time through lived experience and an intimate understanding of what works. This way, it maintains a delicate balance between Goan’s insatiable need to connect and a retreat from the unforgiving sun.
Slowly, almost unnoticed, this language begins to fall apart under the pretence of a more contemporary model of living. The very house that once negotiated Goa’s heat through shade, breeze, and breathable materials is increasingly replaced by sealed interiors and dependence on mechanical cooling. The lime-plastered walls that were capable of releasing moisture through the gruelling humidity are replaced with modern cement that traps moisture within, causing the laterite to decay slowly from the inside out [1]. The house eventually dies. The cool red-oxide floors beneath avó’s feet give way to polished vitrified tiles that hold neither memory nor relief from the heavy afternoons. Oyster shell windows, which once softened daylight and allowed the house to breathe gently, are exchanged for large panes of glass that trap the glare and relentless heat within sealed interiors. The terracotta roof disappears beneath concrete slabs, and the heat that once escaped upward now lingers heavily inside the house. The shift in material slowly intensifying the unbearable heat within. Even as the balcão disappears, liminal spaces collapse, and the house slowly turns inward. Very often, spaces like these are sacrificed in favour of privacy, and with them disappear the permeability and quiet social life that once defined the street.
Now, Avó no longer sits beneath the shade of a cool verandah, half watching the road and half listening for the gossip in the distance. Instead, she sits within an enclosed hall under the constant hum of an air-conditioner, separated from the neighbours who were once as much a part of her day as the floor beneath her feet. The air no longer drifts through the house as the windows remain shut, conversations do not spill onto the street, and the susegad life she lived begins to retreat quietly behind closed walls. In losing these threshold spaces, the elderly are not merely losing a balcão, but the very spatial condition that once supported their manner of living. For them, the home extends far beyond its physical enclosure. It acts as a place of physical and psychological security, a setting for routine, observation, and everyday connection, and the traditional Goan house accommodated these needs instinctively. Designing for the geriatric community, then, is not simply a specialised concern but an inevitable one, because ageing is a condition every household will eventually encounter. The tragedy lies in the fact that, even as the climate grows harsher, the very architectural wisdom developed to negotiate Goa’s heat is being discarded. The heat has not disappeared; it has intensified. Yet the spatial responses that once softened it are steadily vanishing in the contemporary city.
In many ways, Goa already possesses a handbook of solutions for living within its climate, one embedded within the everyday building practices passed down across generations. But as temperatures rise and cities grow denser, this climatic intelligence becomes steadily overlooked within new approaches to shaping our cities. We must not forget that, no matter the place, a solution to adapt to the changing climate may exist in the inherent wisdom of a vernacular; something that has allowed a community to thrive for hundreds of years.
Glossary
Avó – Grandmother
Poder – A traditional Goan bread seller/ baker.
Geriatric – Someone of advanced age.
Susegad – A relaxed, contented, and slow-paced way of life.
Balcão / Balcões – A traditional, covered front porch of Goan-Portuguese houses.
References:
[1] “Intangible foundations: The forgotten hands that shaped Goa’s heritage” The Goan Everyday, April 2026 https://www.thegoan.net/life-sunday/intangible-foundations-the-forgotten-hands-that-shaped-goas-heritage/146771.html
– Written by Gabriela Marie Gomes, Research Fellow, CCF
All images have been illustrated by the author.
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