Cow vs Van

They say the traffic in Asia is crazy, and this probably has something to do with the variety of traffic hazards that one has to negotiate. One such hazard is the humble cow. These creatures happilly wander across the road at their leisure, and usually make a home for themselves on traffic islands and road verges. I'm pretty certain that they are purposefully released by the Colombo council as a cheap way of maintaining the public lawns and keeping grass by the roads at bay.

Recently, we had a close encounter with one of these poor creatures. We were driving back from Kegalle (in between Colombo and Kandy) and we had got to a town on the outskirts of Colombo called Malebe (I always make a joke about the town because it seems to go on forever - it seems an especially long time in the awful Colombo traffic. It has to be the longest suburb in Colombo). Suddenly, Kumudu's Dad slammed on the brakes. We looked up, and in this terrible moment we saw a cow obstructing the road. It was horrifying instant because we realized that there was no way we could stop in time - it was a moment where we realized something would happen, but it wasn't clear what the outcome would be.

Luckilly, Kumudu's Dad had put the brakes on at the right moment because - although we collided with the bovine - we didn't really crash into it. So I suppose we can define it as a run-of-the-mill traffic accident rather than a bonafide crash. There was this thud, and the cow was swept up the front of the van for a moment before being thrown forward. The cow looked shocked for a moment, and then promptly wandered off quite happilly. We quickly beat it, as we knew that the farmer would be pissed and Sri Lanka is the kind of country where the term 'vigilante justice' gets its origins (joking).

Meanwhile, the van seemed to come worse off. the front of it had a huge dent in it, the right lamp was fully broken off, and the fender was dented. Moreover, the windscreen had spider-webbed (this was to grow in the coming days, heh - why get it repaired when we were renting it?). I can safetly say that the vehicle owner was furious. And in spite of the fact that it was 'insured', Kumudu's Dad still had to pay LKR 50,000 (about NZD 500-600). This was mainly because the guy was some kind of dodgy character that shouldn't be crossed (we got the van dirt cheap anyway).

Oh, and the accident wasn't our fault since the cow wandered onto the road from the wrong side (its a miracle the traffic on the other side avoided it). The thing that cracked me up most was how the van was damaged, but not the cow! As I say (rather un-idiomaticaly) me: van-ekak kadila, habe harack kadila-nehe (the van is broken, but the cows not).

Flooding at Tissamaharama

Talk about history repeating itself. In 2004 I arrived in Sri Lanka worried about terrorism, but instead was threatened by a tsunami. Again, in 2006 I came concerned about my families reaction to the civil war, but instead got trapped by flood waters! It's almost like the country is asserting itself to remind me what the greater danger is.

In any case, our travel around the island was rudely compromised by the gradual introduction of rain. We thought nothing of it until we arrived in Nuwara Eliya, the town with the highest elevation in Sri Lanka. Nuwara Eliya is known for its beautiful tea plantations and its lousy weather. In our case, we got the lousy weather, but no landscape. It was freezing cold - something I had not even considered in Sri Lanka which seems to have perpetually balmy weather - and was raining endlessly. We should have guessed something was amiss when we observed the landslides partly obstructing the road leading to Nuwara Eliya. However, in true Sri Lankan style our driver 'Longtooth' (on account of his implausibly long canine) evaded the slides with great skill, and so we thought nothing of it.

Oh, and for future referance if anyone visits Nuwara Eliya, they should most definately not stay at the 'Hellenic Inn' which can only be described as a flea pit, with no amneties and the most incompetant Faulty-Towers-esque staff ever conceived. The Lonely Planet, inexplicably, describes it as "comfortable" and "modern". It is, however, true that it has an "excellent view:, although in our case we only 'viewed' a thick mist sitting a foot away from the window. The blankets were ancient things, the covers dusty and allergy-inducing and the mattress' not dissimilar to sleeping on the street. The showers must have been water-blaster rejects since the pressure was so high one could not stand there for anymore than a few minutes- and it was icy cold. Finally, the food they served was poisonous - who puts chilli in vegetable soup?

In any cae we fled Nuwara Eliya and eventually found ourselves in Tissamaharama in the low lands. We thought (wrongly) that the rain was peculiar to the high country. Instead, we discovered that - in our eagerness to break out of Nuwara Eliya - we had nearly got ourselves trapped by flood waters.

Despite this, we booked ourselves into our hotel in Tissa. Unfortunately, our trip to Katuragamma (a Sri Lankan pilgrimage site) seemed to be ruined because the river waters had flooded the only bridge into the town. We weren't the only people delayed by this development. As we prepared to investigate the bridge, a convoy of vehicles screamed into the hotel courtyard and armed men burst out of them, AK-47's at the ready, forming a security barrier. Out stepped a Sri Lankan MP who calmy booked himself into the hotel. So not only were we threatened by rising flood waters, we were also housed right next to a prospective terrorist target!

A bus negotiates the flood-waters:


A three-wheel tries its luck:

Our turn:

Flood waters threaten Kataragama:


Returning to Tissa from Kataragama:

The fact that the bridge was out of order certainly did not deter the locals. In true Sri Lankan style they were fording the waters anyway: three-wheelers, buses and cars were all making their way slowly across the bridge, in many cases only barely. We even saw an old man carefully making his way across: a cane and a scrawny child his only means of support. So, rather than give up - as would be the normal, rational procedure - we adopted the local custom. We donned our already soaked 'waterproof' clothing (bought hurriedly from a dirty little shop in Badulla). Then 'Longtooth' called a mysterious friend who arrived with an all-terrain-vehicle (meant, I think, for safari's at Yala) and helpfully drove us through the rising waters.

The Katuragama temple was loud (Hindu's often worship through sound), but probably wasn't as interesting or as fun as how we got there. In the driving rain we completed the Hindu ritual by hurling a burning cocout into a cage thereby conferring bad luck (mine didn't break - I take it this implies indifference on the part of the deity). We got a fright when there was a brief power cut leaving us in pitch blackness in a near emergency zone. In any case, we must have done something right because Katargama (the god the town is named after and also the guardian of the region) allowed us to leave safetly, and the next day we made it past the flooded waters along the only road that was open, all the way back past the road that took us to Nuwara Eliya.

It seems like natural disasters follow me wherever I go! At least this one was less dangerous and tragic than the tsunami (although at times I wondered what the state of the Sri Lankan rescue service was like. Ultimately, it was somewhat more exciting too and even though we didn't get to visit Yala National Park, or Horton's Plains we made up for it with a rather peculiar aquatic adventure.

Buddhism and Violence

Within all religious traditions, there is always an inconsistency between the ethical demands of the teaching and the practical implementation of those teachings. This is is most obvious in theistic traditions, but is also clear even in Buddhism. The failure even of Buddhists to follow their own moral parameters has occasionally been highlighted to me since I arrived in Sri Lanka. One prime example of this was when we visited the famous Tissamaharama Stupa - perhaps the oldest stupa in Sri Lanka (so old, the clay is bound together with honey).

A common sight in Sri Lanka - as with most developing countries in Asia - is the presence of a huge number of malnourished, scrawny and mangy dogs. These flea-bags roam the streets of Colombo day and night looking for trash (provided in plentiful supply) to nibble on. They often move in packs and universally look depressed and dying. They are, of course, a pest and cause all sorts of problems for locals. Consequently they are often shooed away whenever they happen to wander onto private property. However, at the Tissamaharama Stupa, we found one particular stupa- attendent savagely whacking a dog with a piece of wood busy driving it from the vicinity. This seems odd, since ostensibly a religious site is meant to be a place of peace and harmony. In Buddhism, it is a venue that is intended to be peaceful and an ideal of serenity and non-suffering. So it seems quite inconsistent to be beating animals in a pansala (temple) and especially at the venerable Tissa Stupa.

One poor creature near the Tissa stupa:



Ronnie rescuing a dying pup:

Dying pup eating buffalo curd:

Assaulting helpless animals might not stir one's moral convictions of course, so let us instead consider the practice of alms giving. Within the ordinary, modern Buddhist schema, one should treat monks with the utmost veneration. They are the symbol of learning and represent a striving towards moral perfection. They should, it will be argued, be respected on account that they have given up their life of comfort for a simpler - in fact, ascetic - existence that is highly rigorous and difficult. If any of these qualities were true, then I would agree that monks should be respected and highly regarded. However, like any other monastic tradition these qualities are often - perhaps usually - not demonstrated. One should not assume - as many Buddhists do - that monks should be prima facie respected since they do not know if they are really any good at being monks. This notion is cognitively non-sensical to most Buddhists, but I happen to believe that any layperson who takes Buddhism seriously should be very careful about what monk he or she respects and venerates. This is because failure to do so is precisely un-Buddhist. Doctrinely, the Buddha claims that monks who fail to follow the Viniya (monastic code) in a strict way should be rejected from the Sangha (monk body). Furthermore, he suggests that a person - in general - should be rated only on their moral worth, not on birth and not on social status. The monk is meant to be respected because he is moral. So surely, if he fails to be moral then he is not really a monk and therefore should not be venerated. Philosophically, this is conducive with the empirical nature of Buddhism, i.e. that one should only believe what is justified through the senses. So if one cannot be certain of a monks rectitude, one should not worship or venerate him. This, it woudl seem is entirely Buddhist.

A fine example of this is a case I encountered when I was providing a course on Buddhist philosophy at the University of Auckland last year. Two Taiwainese nuns attended initially with great interest. It soon became clear, however, that they were the worst students in the class. First, they only showed up for two classes and second, they talked throughout. Clearly, based upon their conduct they could not be venerated nor regarded as virtuous Buddhists.

One other obvious un-Buddhist practice in Sri Lanka are the numerous politically active monks who promote violence against Tamils and often participate directly in violence against Tamils, NGO's and other parties. Consider this article from the "Colombo Pages"

Jan 12, Colombo: ZOA Refugee Care, a Dutch Christian aid group said that their office was stormed today by hardliner Buddhist monks belonged to the Jathika Hela Urumaya (JHU) party. The NGO is under suspicion by Sri Lanka military for providing assistance to the Tamil rebels in the Eastern Province of Sri Lanka.
They say that the monks reportedly threatened them to leave the island. Around 8-10 Buddhist monks from JHU with 70-80 supporters rushed into the premises, took the attendance registers and some keys and photographed everybody, said a ZOA official.(www.colombopage.com/archive_07/January12140400SL.html)

(NB - note that the manner that this article is written is not necesarilly objective since all media is essentially government operated or monitored. For example, the aid group might be regarded as "pro-Tamil" in the sense that they are aware that a huge number of refugees are Tamil, but not "pro-LTTE". Helping Tamils and helping the LTTE are purposefully conflated in this sense. There is nothing new in this kind of state-run reporting of course. Also consider early CNN and Fox coverage of the current Gulf conflict).

Obviously these activities are thoroughly un-Buddhist, and monk political parties have had a history of promoting violence against Tamils and seem to have a great deal to do with domestic policy in Sri Lanka specifically around the so-called "problem up north". One would assume that if monks and Buddhists were to promote anything it would be Ghandian non-violence and not nationalistic, racist propaganda. In this sense, the first thing they would do would be to want peace and harmony. They should do their utmost to discourage violence and, in fact, condemn it since it results in the greatest sin in Buddhism: the generation of suffering. In this sense, these monks - again - can only be regarded as non-monks and as particularly sinful Buddhists.

Perehera at Keleniya

On New Years day we went to a rather large and important Buddhist temple called the Keliniya Mahavihara (Great Temple of Keliniya). According to the Singhalese account of Buddhism, the Buddha visited this area - as well as two or three other places in Sri Lanka (depending on who is telling the story). We were rather lucky on that particular day because we were able to see a perehera or religious parade. A perehera is meant to celebrate both the religious aspect of Singhalese society as well as its historical successes. The perehera consists of many people - including quite a few young children - dressed in very rich costume that represents different components of Singhala identity. They dance, play music (mainly percussion) and perform various acts as literally thousands of local Sri Lankans watch on earnestly.

This is the lead elephant of the perehera. It would probably be a very old and venerable creature that has been designated the task of being the perehera elephant for many years. In this particular perehera, the elephant does not carry a dhatu or religious artifact, but in the esala perehera which happens in may, the elephant carries the holy tooth relic mentioned below. This particular elephant went for a huge crap and wee (it looked like someone was hosing down the path, but you wouldn't want to step in it). He also inhaled a 'snack' of an entire hand of bananas as we might eat a single lolly.

The procession was a distinctively Singhala affair - since it is primarilly Buddhist - and only provided images and costumes associated with Singhala legend. Consequently, there were several groups of flag bearers that bore the image of the Sri Lankan flag. The Singhalese are quite natioanlistic, so this is not particularly odd. See previoius posts for an analysis of the meaning behind the flag.

According to Sri lankan legend, the Singhala people were a product of the copulation between a god and a lion. The lion (singhaya) is therefore an important animal in within the Singhala psychological scehma. As far as I know, however, lions are not native to Sri Lanka and I don't believe that any actually live there, so the origins of the myth remain a mystery to me. In any case, a lot of Sri Lankan art involves images and designs of lions and they are common guardian figures at important Buddhist sites.

Perhaps the most popular god worshipped by the Singhalese is Katuragama (a town is also named after him. Katuragama is the Hindu war god Skandha and he has risen in importance over the last fifty years to replace the official guardian of Sri Lanka, Vishnu. Katuragama's vehicle is always the peacock - another important Sri Lankan animal (it features on 1000 rupee notes) along with the snake. These dancers above are therefore implying Katuragama, although having an image of Katuragama in a Buddhist parade might be religiously confusing for the onlookers.

Another important god in Sri Lankan lengend is Hanuman, the monkey god. He is generally regarded as mischievious individual and his moral worth in the eyes of Sri Lankans is unclear to me (for example, Katuragama is regarded as morally impure, but he is nonetheless highly respected). The story is that Hanuman fled India with a kidnapped bride and escaped to Sri Lanka. He managed this by jumping across the strait with his powerful legs arriving in what is now known as Bandarawella. There he kept the bride imprisoned for many years causing grief to the ruler in India. The story is told the same way in India.

These people are all stilt-walkers. As far as I can tell, there are no distinctive cultural implications involved with this - its just a bit of fun. However, it looked rather uncomfortable even though the people were having a lot of fun!

Pilgrimage

It's a tradition of Kumudu's family to perform an annual pilgrimage to Kandy* and give dane at the Sri Dalida Maligawa (Sacred Temple of the Golden Tooth). The Sri Dalida Maligawa contains the Tooth Relic - reputably the molar of the Buddha. Worshipping at the Tooth Temple is particularly meritorious and confers a great deal of pin (positive karma). In accord with Buddhist doctrine, acting virtuously generates pin and therefore provides the conditions for a good rebirth. One way this can be achieved is through the action of giving or dane. Pilgrims to the Temple of the Tooth usually symbolically give dane to the tooth relic (which can only be described as a very large relic house designed in the shape of a chaitya around which is hung millions of dollars worth of gold, gems, diamonds etc - all donated by wealthy pilgrims). This symbolic gesture involves the pilgrims giving food and alms (a widely distributed package that includes a monks begging bowl, robe and fan). The same is also done for real monks which I will describe below.

My experience of the tooth, in a way, is unique, since few suddhas get to see the tooth relic closely. No photography of the relic is allowed, and most tourists are shuffled past a window in which they see the relic only for a moment. Because I was part of a group of pilgrims, I was allowed into the inner sanctum. The tooth, in this sense, is very secretively housed and is looked after by a group of specialist monks. Needless to say, the tooth relic is magnificent and is comparable with the crown jewels in terms of its opulence (of course, photos are not allowed). What is perhaps more interesting is the art work in the inner sanctum - it is perhaps the finest example of Theravadin Buddhist art that I have ever seen and is a shame that no one else gets to see it.

The inner sanctum is also of great historical significance. I noticed that a large part of the wall had broken away destroying some of the precious art it housed. When I asked about this I was told that this was due to an LTTE bomb that went off, causing some cosmetic damage to the Temple structure. Interestingly, however, the damaged parts only ended up revealing an even older set of art underneath that had been painted over. This, of course, was interpreted by the more nationalistic Buddhists as some kind of Sri Lankan revelation: The Buddha was protecting the Temple from the bomb blast and this was revealed through the appearance of this otherwise unknown art.

Worshipping the tooth is only part of the pilgrimage. Perhaps the main - and most difficult part - is the feeding the monks. Kumudu's family stayed up all night cooking food that was to be provided for the monks. Again, this act of giving is implicit within the Buddhist tradition and is derived originally from the practice of giving alms to wandering mendicant monks. Since then, Buddhism has become more systematized - monks have a wealth of food available to them and it would be unthinkable in a country like Sri Lanka for a monk to go hungry. For this reason I sometimes think that the intention behind the act of giving (dane) has become corrupt, i.e. merit is gained for helping others who cannot help themselves; it the idea of giving for its own sake. This intention is still somewhat preserved, however, through the action of giving meals to beggers on the streets (and they are very wretched beggers I might add). After the last puja I mentioned below, I gave a food package to a begger on behalf of my late grandmother (the idea being that I was donating the pin so that she would gain a good rebirth).

Temple of the Tooth - The monk looking at the camera took quite a liking to me and asked all sorts of questions concerning my interests in Buddhism (actually most monks take quite a liking on account that I am a foreigner and interested in Buddhism - obviously it doesn't take much to please monks. In fact many Sri Lankans seem to regard me as being "very religious" simply because I know Buddhist philosophy!). Sunsequently, he gave me a telephone number of a monk in Colombo that can teach me Pali - in fact I'd already arranged a course with a university in Keleniya.

The dane ceremony basically amounted to the principle monk (the fellow third from the left) giving bane (i.e. preaching). In this instance he talked - amongst other things - about the importance of marriage and blessed both of us! The monks at the Dalida Maligawa are a funny breed of monk in that they are generally quite learned and pious - in this sense they are usually quite a bit more serious looking than other monks (and this saying a lot since the main purpose of being a monk is to precisely to be serious). After the monk fishes preaching, the pilgrims go about giving out the food that had been prepared the night before. This involved us going around and spooning food into the monks bowls. In this instance, the monks seemed quite pious since few of them would take any kind of meat.

Some of the food we provided:

An example of the monks bowls and cutlery - notice that they are all quite plain (again part of the ascetic ideal), except for the writing (which simply states who the donor of the cutlery was therefore guarenteing that they get the appropriate merit - and social recognition. Many material gifts for monks have the name of the donor written on them. It is part of the technological mechanics of merit aquisition). Also note that the chairs upon which the monks sit is quite low (i.e. the legs are short): this is all part of the complicated monastic code which is designed to help the monks reduce desires.

Here is the Buddha statue in the monks eating quarters. This statue also receives alms prior to the dane. One interesting innovation which might represent a modern Hinduistic influence is the use of bright strobe lights behind Buddha statues. They usually represent the lights emitted from the Buddha when he attained enlightenment (although the colours are hardly comprehensive). I say it might be a Hindu influence only because such opulance is quite un-Buddhist like. But Sri Lankans are very competitive and would hate the idea that a Hindu deity lhas more bling than their own Buddha statues!

Going to all the trouble of visiting the hill country, seeing the golden tooth, preparing a veritable banquet of food and attending to the monks at the Dalida Maligawa all involves a huge amount of merit aquisition. Many families - including Kumudu's - do this once a year so that the merit they reap will guarentee a good future (although any belief that they will benefit before they die would be misplaced, and I happen to think that people believe this rather un-Buddhistic notion). One other thing about the tooth relic: although it is enclosed in the ritual casket described above, the tooth itself has gone on display at various times. Reputably, it is extremely large and looks rather like a yak tooth - but one shouldn't let that get in the way of a good mythological ideal!

*Although it is called Kandy, the proper Singhalese name is Nuwara. "Nuwara" simply means 'Town', so in a way it implies simply 'the town'. This probably is a throwback to when Kandy was the capital of the high country, prior to when the English captured it. That is, it really was the only big town that locals could go to hence it being simply called 'the town'. The name 'Kandy' is an English invention based upon the Singhala for hill 'kandha'. Nuwara was too complicated to say, and saying kandha with its unstressed '-dha' sound was also too difficult, so Kandy was invented, i.e. to denote that the city is in the heart of the hill country.

Boxing Day - Then and Now

Call it a coincidence, but the first time I visited Sri Lanka two years ago was the exact time the Boxing Day tsunami happened. Since then, there has been a great deal of redevelopment going on, although there are various places which are still under reconstruction and areas that look excatly the same. Northern and eastern areas controlled by the LTTE are - so I've heard - still in pretty bad shape.

A few days ago we visited Bentota - a small tourist resort about one hoursouth of Colombo. The area was decimated by the tsunami, but when we visited no one who knew any better would have guessed that a few years earlier the place was a mess of dead vegetation, flotsam and jetsom and the remains of victims of the tsunami. Those in the know observed that many of the resorts were completely missing, and that the river adjacent to the ocean had become a lagoon.

Bentota beach - mugshot of a murderer:

Bentota beach:

This beach is the area that Kumudu's family visits annually - it is a marvelous place. The sands are so fine its like flour, there are no shells and the water is beautiful and warm - it really is the archetype of paradise. In 2004, we planned to visit their holiday home which is located not even one hundred yards from the beach. A few days before this however, the home was completely destroyed. When we visited two days ago, there was a huge pool of water where the home should have been.

My own memories of 2004 Boxing Day are simple: we woke up to news that there had been a terrorist attack. Then that there had been some small accident. Still later we heard that there had been a flood. None of these reports compared to what had really happened. Knowing something serious had happened we called our respective families not to worry if they heard anything bad. Even Colombo wasn't unaffected - the canals just 150 yards from our home were flooded, and the Dehiwala train station had been washed out. Moratuwa, a stretch of coastal slum-like buildings where fisherman were based, was completely destroyed. We were all shocked by the devastation.

Moratuwa 2004 - What was left of peoples homes:

Moratuwa, 2004 - "Close" , Understatement of the year:

We kept well away from the coasts, not wishing to get in the way of the sudden influx of aid that had arrived, not to mention our desire to avoid infection: the coastal areas were rife with disease. When we visited Yala a few weeks after Boxing day, the air was sick with disease and we couldn't even leave the vehicle we were driving in. Regretably, I saw people bathing in clearly infected water: In other words, it was completely yellow and putrid.

Yala 2004, the water as it was then:

Yala 2004, people were bathing in this water. The day before the water on the far side was clogged with bodies:

Since then, laws were put in place preventing people building along the coast. If this is true, it certainly has not been implemented since the areas pictured above are now just the same they were before the tsunami: a mish-mash of slums and impromptu housing. But one thing that has always amazed me is the resilience of the Sri Lankan people. Directly after the tsunami people were straight back at work, and Colombo was as busy as ever. Meanwhile, the people devastated by the tsunami were doing their best to recover and were as optimistic as always. Other subsequent developments involve political complications over aid distribution. The Sri Lankan government were reticient to direct aid funds to the LTTE controlled areas on account that it was feared (with good reason I suspect) that the money would be misused, i.e. to fund the war. When I visited the warehouse at Pelligoda a few weeks ago, there was - reputably - still undelivered aid that had not even been cleared by customs since 2004. It was still sitting there in the boxes it had been packaged in. The aid in that warehouse - food, medicine and equipment - was rusting and expired.

Foreigners in Sri Lanka

The island of Sri Lanka has been of interest to foreigners for a long time. The ancestors of the South Indian Tamils – the Dravidians – were present in Sri Lanka from pre-historic times. So there has been a great deal of communication between India and Sri Lanka for a long time. The history of Sri Lanka is run through with violence between the Sinhalese people (which are reputably of Northern Indian stock and may have originally come from Persia) and the Sri Lankan Tamils. An influx of Tamil settlers brought on several Sinhala-Tamil wars during the early period of Sri Lankan history. Which people are more indigenous, of course, is a questionable matter – certainly the Sinhalese settled there first, but the Sri Lankan Tamils have lived there in some form for many thousands of years developing their own unique culture that distinguishes them from their Indian cousins.

(Image of Sri Lanka care of "Lonely Planet": Most Tamils live in the north and east of Sri Lanka, while there is a concentration of Moors in South-east Sri Lanka (around Ampara and Batticalloa). The Singhalese predominate however, and dominate much of the island population).

Even Roman traders plied Sri Lankan waters as they went about taking advantage of Sri Lanka’s twin monsoons. The Egyptians were trading spice as early as 1400 bce! Arabs, Malays and Indonesians were also popular visitors. The upshot of this early trade was that sea charts were easily available for many years making subsequent invasion by foreign powers a rather simple affair.

(Sri Lanka's Flag: The lion is a Singhalese national symbol, the leaves at the four corners are Bo leaves and represent Buddhism, the maroon colour is a Singhalese colour, while the green and biege represents the Tamils and Moors - Muslims - respectively).

Later, the Portuguese colonized the coast of Sri Lanka starting in 1505, essentially dominating the island economically. Subsequent to this, the Dutch invaded and wrestled control of the island from the Portuguese during the 1700’s. Finally, the English declared Sri Lanka a crown colony in 1802 and developed much of the infrastructure currently in use today. It was also the English that managed to control the inland, defeating the Kandyan Kingdom and defeating the Sinhala army that had for so long maintained control. The lengthy colonization of the Sri Lankan coast has resulted in a more cosmopolitan feel and outlook in coastal areas, and a more rural and simple way of life inland. Nonetheless, most Sinhalese look to the high country for cultural inspiration since it remains somewhat unchanged since English dominion.

Colombo city - trading centre of Sri Lanka:

In spite of this colonialism, the Sri Lankan people still retain a unique culture and society, in many ways no different from the practices of their ancestors. In spite of the violent history the settlers brought, the Sri Lankan people seem to harbour no ill sentiment towards foreigners. The Sinhalese generally regard white people (sudhas) very warmly as if they represent a high point in Sri Lankan history. Nonetheless, they are often amused by the peculiar antics of tourists sometimes secretly calling them pissu-suddha “crazy white people”. This is always said in a very light-hearted way of course, but the term is – when one thinks about it – quite astute. This is often because suddhas become thakkali-suddha “tomato suddha” on account that they go directly from the airport to beaches – usually Bentota on the west coast – and become ragingly sunburnt (an impossibility for the locals). There are other reasons why suddhas might be classified as odd: they tool around in floral pattern shorts with ridiculous hats and take pictures of stray dogs (guilty! – I’ll show my collection of stray dogs later).

Then there are kalu-suddha “black-whities”. This term is a derogatory term usually reserved for Sri Lankans who have moved overseas and forgotten their roots (i.e. their language). However, it can occasionally be applied to foreigners who have appropriated certain Sri Lankan practices (e.g. eating food with the right hand, knowing Singhala, etc, etc). I’ve seen quite a few tourists floating around here and there – almost always at hotels and tourist spots. I’ve heard that there is a real dearth of tourists at the moment due firstly to the effects of the Boxing Day tsunami but secondly because of the civil war that has recently been re-ignited. For this reason I have never experienced how busy Sri Lanka can really be. But it is telling, I think, that being in the company of suddhas is something of an oddity in my case and when I am amongst them in force (for example when I visited the shop “Barefoot” – a staple tourist hangout) I feel rather out of place. Having said all this about the local attitude to foreigners, many locals however often regard their own people as pissu “crazy”, so in this vein the following phrase is probably appropriate: okomma miniho pisso “all people are crazy”.