Miguel Braganza
If Adam had been in Southeast Asia, he might have eaten Adao or Manilkara kaki and remained in paradise instead of being tempted by Eve’s apple. Interestingly, the Bible story in the Book of Genesis only mentions ‘the forbidden fruit’ and never specifically refers to an apple. The apple seems to have been a mistranslation of the word for ‘fruit’, which, in French, shifted from figue (fig) to pomme—a term used for both ‘fruit’ and ‘apple’. To the French, the South American potato became pomme de terre (fruit of the earth), and the vibrant red tomato was christened pomme d’amour (fruit of love or Love Apple). Perhaps the forbidden fruit was, in fact, the Adao or Adam’s Fruit, and Adam might have choked on its large, woody seeds!
The Adao or Adam’s Fruit belongs to the Sapotaceae family, which includes the familiar chickoo. Historically, chickoo was valued primarily for its sticky, milky latex (chickle), used in making chewing gum. Those of my generation may recall the iconic brand Chiclets, a name that became synonymous with chewing gum. While the Sapotaceae family originates mostly from Central America, this particular relative found its way to regions like Indonesia and Malaysia. In Java, the Adao tree is associated with royalty and can be found near royal palaces. Contrary to superstition, the tree is not a harbinger of misfortune—Javanese kings were certainly not foolish to plant them near their palaces.
It is possible that Borneo traders brought the Adao tree to India along with other cultural elements such as ‘mando’ music, dance, pan-baju, chinelam, and Chinese fans, long before the Portuguese arrived. St. Francis Xavier passed through Goa on his way to Japan, and the Portuguese had reached Kozhikode (Calicut) in 1498 and Goa in 1510. By then, other sailors were already familiar with routes to the Moluccas and beyond. Attributing every botanical or cultural introduction to the Portuguese may not be entirely accurate—much like the misattribution of Goa’s historic Opinion Poll solely to certain individuals. Persisting with such inaccuracies doesn’t make them right. Thankfully, the claim that the mando is an Afro-Asian dance form has faded—after all, Africans don’t wear pan-baju or use chinelam and Chinese fans.
The Adao is woven into Goan folklore and tradition. The Konkani version of ‘Eena, Meena, Mina, Mo’ has a charming sign-off: “Adao, pedao, sakri medao; ddam, ddum, ttus!”
I attempted to find this elusive fruit in Panaji, searching where local vendors often sell it—around the Praça de Comércio near the CCP building (currently being demolished in phases) and around the old building popularly known as Congress House, though owned by someone else. Alas, it was a futile exercise.
Fortunately, my wife’s cousin, Carlos Figueiredo, managed to harvest a few Adao fruits from a tree in Aldona. The rest, however, were devoured by hornbills, bats, and monkeys before Carlos could find someone from Siolim to help him with the harvest. Maria de Mello from Saligao laments that the Adao tree at her home no longer bears fruit. Hopefully, some of these fruits will appear at the Friday market in Mapusa before the month ends.
