Classmates from Secondary School

I attended three schools: Maris Stella College, Negombo, up to Form 2 (Grade 7); Trinity College, Kandy, up to Form 5; and St. Mary's College, Chilaw, in Forms 11 and 12, in preparation for the GCE (A/L) or university entrance exam. I have lost touch with my classmates at Maris Stella. As for Trinity, I still keep in touch one, Ranjith Henry, who now lives in Chennai, and am also aware of where some other classmates reside, although none is in Sri Lanka. But I do keep in touch with the classmates from Chilaw, and on this visit to Sri Lanka, was fortunate to meet with three of them and to speak on the phone with another.



With Sharmaline


I joined St. Mary's College in 1966 hoping to do the Advanced Level examination as a biological science major in the English medium. Chilaw was within traveling distance from the coconut plantation where my dad worked, so I wouldn't have to be boarded as in Kandy. Also, my dad was experiencing another financial crisis and St. Mary's, being a government school, was a lot more affordable than the private Trinity College.


Soon after entering St. Mary's, my plans to study in the English medium were changed by the government, which decreed that all A/L classes should either be in Sinhala or Tamil medium. This caused much consternation to both the students and the teachers who did not have the fluency to study or teach science in Sinhala. We lacked textbooks (they were still being translated or were being written) and the Sinhala language lacked a scientific lexicon. So, for the four subjects I studied--Botany, Zoology, Chemistry, and Physics--I had to first purchase glossaries published by the government and learn awkward scientific words that had been created. Our teachers, mainly graduates of Indian universities, were not proficient at teaching in Sinhala. I especially remember Mr. Neville and Mr. Sanath, teachers of Zoology and Botany respectively, who were graduates of Madras universities. They were more fluent in English than in Sinhala. So, for a while, confusion ensued. However, despite these initial challenges, we managed to take a A/L exam in the Sinhala medium, and Sharmaline and I did reasonably well. Those days of dissecting rats and sharks in the zoology lab and Alan, the lab assistant,are fresh in my mind.

Two classmates I remember from those early days in 1966 are Sharmaline Perera and Bertie Dole. St. Mary's was a boys' school and Sharmaline was one of the two girls to attend because no A/L classes were available at the local girls school. In fact, she was the first female classmate I ever had. She was also the daughter of a teacher at St. Mary's and knew many staff members well.


Sharmaline later became a teacher of science, retired early, and now teaches at a private school in Colombo. Her children, two daughters, are both in Australia now. I met Sharmaline briefly after nearly 30 years at her home in Moratuwa.

Bertie Dole joined St. Mary's from St. Servatius College, Matara, in the deep south. His father was a excise inspector who was transferred from place to place, and Bertie came to Chilaw with his brothers. He was an excellent cricketer and captained two schools, St. Servatius and St. Mary's. He was also the Head Prefect at St. Mary's and was popular among both students and teachers. I only met Bertie once after leaving St. Mary's. He became a teacher of mathematics and died untimely from a heart attack.


With Jinasena

My closest friend at St. Mary's was Jinasena, who joined us when the medium of instruction became Sinhala. Jiansena came from a business family in Mahawewa, a few miles south of Chilaw. They owned the famous Leela Hotel and Stores. Because he was boarded at a house in proximity to St. Mary's, he had all the time for sports and extra curricular activities. We kept in touch even after leaving school. He would write me long letters in Sinhala when I was in the States, keeping me informed about St. Mary's and our old classmates.

Jinasena started a tyre business at Wennappuwa, close to my village of Boralessa. On my visits to Sri Lanka from the States and later from Hong Kong, I would visit him at the shop and his home. The business did not succeed and Jinanasena now calls himself a "retired businessman"! (He's only 58.) He has two sons. Interestingly, one has taken to Latin dancing!


Sunil with my dad

Sunil Costa was another classmate, still working for the Urban Council in the area where my dad resides. His wife Susila used to work for us when we owned a pharmacy in Chilaw, way back in the late 1970s and early 80's.

I also spoke on the phone with Dayananda Peiris. Dayananda joined us at St. Mary's somewhat later. He was from Bingiriya, a village some distance from Chilaw. To our surprise, he later joined the army and has risen in rank of colonel. He has one child, a daughter, who is an English instructor at a university.

Another classmate who comes to mind is Sarath Abeysinghe, who was the class musician. I haven't seen Sarath since the late 1970s. He now works as a tourist guide, I am told.

We plan to get together when I next visit Sri Lanka.

My other relatives

This photo of my paternal grandparents, circa. 1930s, is a good indication of my geneology. My grandfather, Charles Stanley Braine, was English. He was the manager of a large coconut plantation in the Dankotuwa area. He married a local woman, Engracia Nonis, a Sinhalese, who was from Boralessa. My grandmother could be seen in the photo wearing a traditional cloth and along sleeved jacket that was popular among Sinhalese Catholic women of that period. And therein lies a tale.

My grandparents had eight children, five girls and three boys. Only three, Alice (in Australia), Bridget (in the UK) and my dad Teddy, the youngest, in Sri Lanka, are still living. I grew up knowing my cousins, some only by sight and the others as childhood playmates. Marie, still living at Boralessa, is probably closest to me. The children of Aunty Bee (Bridget) were also close, although they emigrated to the UK in 1963. I kept seeing them on my visits to the UK. Others were the Chelvaratnam cousins (children of Aunty Amy) who are now settled in Australia, the Nicols (children of Aunty Alice) who are also in Australia, Delphine and Gordon (children of Aunty Kate), and the children of Uncle George, also in Australia. On a visit to Australia two years ago, I was happy to see Stan (the only child of Uncle Ben) after nearly 40 years.

My grandmothers' relatives, because they were simple village folk, appeared only in the background. There was mention of her brother Uncle Charlis (Charles, pronounced in the Sinhala fashion), who had lived in Boralessa and worked for my grandfather at the coconut plantation. Charlis' children (my uncles and aunts) would be seen at family funerals but were not openly welcomed or acknowledged, except by my Aunty Bee, who had a special affinity for these relatives. None of them dressed in the western fashion and they didn't speak English. The impression created in our young minds was that these people were not up to our standard and were best kept at a distance. They were the poor relatives.

Then, in 1977, I moved to "Pondside", which is located in my grandmother's village of Boralessa. I slowly got to know these relatives. The most prominent among them was the surviving wife of Uncle Charlis, called Puransina Aachi (grandmother). I believe her name was a corruption of the English name Francina. Some of her grown children, Georgiana, Alexander, and Ignatius among them, lived nearby. Puransina would drop by for a chat and to "borrow" coconuts, firewood, or cash. Fawzia and I liked to chat with them because they related interesting family stories that we would not have known otherwise.



Ignatius with one of his daughter and a grand daughetr. The little girl is wearing a typical Sri Lankan school uniform.

Puransina aachchi passed away in the 1980s, and so did Alexander, who was a jovial character but also a heavy drinker. Georgiana, who isn't sure of her age but I guess is close to 90, no longer works at the tile mill. Both her younger children, a son and daughter, died tragically in the late 1970s, so she now lives alone. Ignatius, the youngest in the family, was a sawyer but doesn't work anymore because of poor health. He also has two children in Italy, including the young woman in the photo, who was paying a visit. Ignatius, who used to ride a bicycle, now owns a motorcycle.


Chryshantha

In the next generation, Chryshanta (a son of the late Alexander) appears to be leading a good life. He's a carpenter and undertakes lucrative contracts to roof new houses. He is the loving father of two small children.

My grandmother's relatives have faded into the background because none of them appear to have attended school beyond primary level. There is hope for the younger generation because they appear to be serious about education. When they see my car parked at "Pondside", they know I am visiting and stop by for a chat. I would like to make up for lost time and forge closer relations with them , but my visits to "Pondside" are infrequent.

Namala Holiday Resort

In a previous post, I mentioned staying at Namala Holiday Resort during our travels with Victor. Namala is situated in the Cultural Triangle which covers a number of historically and culturally important cities and locations such as Anuradhapura, Polonnaruwa, Sigiriya, and Dambulla. Namala is near Dambulla just a few kilometers from the new cricket stadium.

A view of an "eco-cottage"

How I became connected with Namala is interesting. For or five years ago, we were planning to holiday in the Cultural Triangle and heard about the fine Sri Lankan food served at Namala. So we stopped there for a meal, liked the ambiance and decided to stay, and ended up buying a half share of the place. Not a wise investment at all, but our fondness for Namala hasn't diminished.

Namala is situated on 12 acres of land bordering the Kurunegala-Dambulla road at one end and the Dambulla Oya (river) and the Dambulla Tank at the other end. Because the dining hall, kitchen, and the eco-cottages (6 in all) are built away from the road, and also because of the spacious green surroundings shaded by large mango trees, Namala has a serene ambiance and is a good place to relax. Recently, a small pond has been built and stocked with fish, and it attracts gulls, storks and other birds throughout the day.

A well-endowed "jak" tree at Namala

In terms of taste and freshness, the Sri Lankan food served at Namala is second only to that served at "Pondside". Even the newly grated coconut tastes better. This is because the food is organic and travels only a few yards from the tree to the table. Most of the vegetables and fruit are grown in the kitchen gardens. A good example of the abundant produce is the "jak" tree laden with fruit seen in the photo. The young jak, called "polos" in Sinhala, is my favorite dish. It can be prepared as a salad or cooked as curry and is a dish I wouldn't mind having every day. "Jak" is essentially a poor man's food because it can be eaten young, as mature fruit (both boiled and cooked), or as a dessert when ripe. The seeds, which tastes like chestnuts, could be deep fried, cooked, or sun dried.

The pond at "Namala"

The pool

The ongoing civil war has dealt a cruel blow to tourism in Sri Lanka. Because bombs go off not only in Colombo but also in smaller town all over the country, foreign tourists are scared to visit. Most hotels therefore depended on local tourism, barely keeping open and retaining a skeleton staff. Even local tourism has been affected by the increase in fuel costs. So our partnet and manager of the hotel Kanthi Gonsal must be commended for keeping Namala going and providing employment to the loyal staff. A strong family atmosphere prevails at Namala and this adds to its attractiveness.

Long-term employees Jayanatha, Samudra, Kumdu, and Dinesh

The staff are all village lads and lasses who came to Namala with no knowledge of the hospitality trade or English. Because the tourist trade is down, which means they earn little as service charges, they make less than Rs. 10,000/ (US$100) per month, but, considering that they are provided with meals and accommodation, and also have jobs at a time of sharp economic downturn in Sri Lanka, they seem satisfied.

Victor, Kanthi and the staff

We don't get to visit Namala often enough, only for a couple of days a year. Although the drive is long, we look forward to the welcome that awaits us at Namala.

Elephant Safari

We set off from Ranjit's place at Ratmale around 3pm bound for the nearby Kaudulla National Park. Jeeps can be hired for elephant safaris, and Neville had brought his jeep for us. The hiring charge is Rs. 3,500/ (US$35), inclusive of tip.

Fawzia, Ranjit, and Victor before the safari

We drove along a tank bund, passing large, shady "kumbuk" trees for miles. Kumbuk trees not only provide shade but are also believed to cool the water. ("Pondside" has a large "kumbuk" tree.) Villagers had come to bathe, as usual bringing their laundry for a wash by hand. In the dry zone forest, the tanks and these trees provide a welcome respite from the blazing sun.

Kaudulla is Sri Lanka's newest national park and is about 6600 hectares in extent. It provides a corridor for wild elephants to migrate from the area of Somawathiya to the Minneriya National Park. Elephants migrate looking for food and water. Rainfall patterns are the basis for these migrations.


We stopped at the modern visitors centre to pick up an official guide (this is a requirement to ensure the safety of visitors) and also to admire the exhibits, including some elephant skulls. Ranjit appeared to know the employees well and chatted with them about elephant sightings and other local gossip. Because of the ongoing civil war, and the possibility of being ambushed by Tiger rebels, the number of visitors to the park had dropped alarmingly. We saw only one other safari jeep.



With elephant skull at the Kaudulla Park Visitors Center

As we drove through the park, we saw about a dozen peacocks and a few more peahens. Peacocks are indigenous to this part of Sri Lanka and is a protected species. I was told that its also a nuisance to farmers. We soon came upon the large Kaudulla tank and began to see our first elephants, first as lone bulls, then in pairs, and finally in a herd of about 30.


Two young bulls away from the herd


The older bulls that lead herds do not tolerate the younger bulls, who may happen to be their own offspring. As in the case of cattle and monkeys, the older males jealously guard their right to mate with as many females as possible; as a result, the younger males f reproductive age are forced to live a life of celibacy and solitude. Probably because of their frustration, these lone elephants could also be dangerous. In fact, one made a half hearted charge at our jeep but stopped in his tracks when the driver stopped the jeep.



The herd seen at a distance

Towards late afternoon, the elephants appear out of the jungle and walk down to the Kaudulla tank for a drink and a cooling dip. The receding waters of the tank leave a growth of new grass which the elephants seem to relish. They are experts at taking a sod of earth in their trunks, shaking it against their legs or the ground to shake off the soil, and then swallowing the grass with obvious enjoyment. Even the baby elephants are good at this.

A closer look at the herd

We stopped the jeep and watched the elephants quietly for about 20 minutes. They went about feeding as if we weren't there, the big bull elephants keeping a wary eye not on us but in the direction of the jungle. The baby elephants were delightful, frolicking around and generally being a nuisance to their elders. Once, a she elephant, probably the mother, was seen to spank her baby with her trunk when the latter became a nuisance.

Another view of the herd

Sri Lanka's wild elephant population is estimated to be less than 3000, down from the thousands who roamed the jungles at the beginning of the 20th century. Unlike in Africa, elephants in Sri Lanka are not poached for their ivory because only about 3% of Sri Lankan elephants, and only males, have tusks. (All African elephants have tusks.) In Sri Lanka, elephants die mainly due to their conflicts with farmers. As the farms and other human settlements encroach on elephant territory, the elephants tend to raid these farms at night looking for easy food. Sometimes, they even attack and destroy houses or kill the residents of remote villages. As a result, the elephants are shot by the farmers. Where the railway runs through the jungle, elephants sometimes get run over by trains. In one terrible incident, four elephants were killed. About 100 wild elephants die in Sri Lanka each year from natural causes, accidents, and illegal shooting. We were therefore pleased to see the baby elephants in the Kaudulla herd. There is hope for the survival of the wild elephants in Sri Lanka.


We drove back to Ratmale glimpsing the setting sun through the "kumbuk" trees

The Class of 2002

This is the MPhil. class of 2002 in Applied English Linguistics. Because they are among my favorite students, this photo hangs in my office.

There's Stacey, Derek, Meedy, Carol, Mong, and Betty. I taught them Research Methods and also supervised their theses or served as a member of some theses committees. Tracy, seen in the white jacket, was an MA student. She, along with Derek, Stacey, and Paulina (who is not in the photo) also worked for me in the Writing Across the Curriculum (WAC) program later.

Some have kept in touch. Derek and Paulina are pursuing PhD's in the USA. Meedy, who is from Indonesia, has returned to Hong Kong and will soon join the Chinese University as an English Instructor. Stacey drops by on my birthdays with a flower arrangement designed by herself for my office.

My colleagues in the photo are Lixian Jin, now back in the UK, Joanna Radwanska-Williams, who teaches at the Macau Polytechnic, and Joseph Hung, who recently retired from the English Department but continues to teach in the MA program.

This photo brings back happy memories of better times.


Paulina & me, 2002


Meedy, Stacey, and me at the Little Egret restaurant, in 2006

Nellie

Nellie & me

For a person who doesn't speak Cantonese, life in Hong Kong can sometimes be a challenge. That's why I live in Sai Kung, where most people I deal with--shopkeepers, waiters, wet market stall holders, mechanics, electricians, plumbers--are able to speak some English at the least. But I also have this challenge at the Chinese University where I teach, never with students but sometime when dealing with the lower-level bureaucrats. The labyrinth of rules and regulations that must often be overcome in order to accomplish the most mundane of task is more than a minor irritant.

Since I joined the English Department 10 years ago, the person who has helped me the most to handle the red tape is Nellie Chan, who was our clerk at the English Department till the end of April. For over 10 years, Nellie's grasp of campus regulations, and her efficiency, patience, and good humor contributed to my peace of mind. I appreciate her support during my research projects, work related to my co-editorship of the Asian Journal of English Language Teaching (AJELT), the Writing Across the Curriculum (WAC) project which I supervised, and the MA Program which I direct. Even in the case of an application for leave, reimbursement for travel and other routine matters, one phone call from Nellie to someone in the administration helped to speed matters up. Whatever the challenge, Nellie always found the solution and she did it unobtrusively, never making an issue out of any matter. I knew that she treated everyone, staff and students, alike, always finding the time for everyone with their individual needs. Seeing Nellie at the office was comforting because you knew that your problem would be at an end.

Nellie put in more than 25 years of steady, devoted service at the English Department. I was therefore shocked to learn that she was being "retired" prematurely. At the Chinese University, the staff at Nellie's level are the most vulnerable. While older professors, way past their retirement age, continue to extend their stay by hook or by crook, the supporting staff are at the mercy of their supervisors. Nellie's situation was made worse because her husband had been out of work for some time and she has a 16 year old son to support.

So I contacted my friends at Shue Yan University, Prof. K.Y. Wong and Dr. Josephine Yam, and thanks to their support, Nellie is now at the English Department at Shue Yan. I know that she'll be an asset to them, bringing all her experience to the benefit of Shue Yan staff and students.

Thank you, Nellie, for making my life at the Chinese University easier. You told me you are happy at Shue Yan, and I am glad. I know your friends at the Chinese University will join me in wishing you many more years of happiness at your new job.

An afternoon with Ranjit Hulugalle

Ranjit is the author of the "Dream into Reality" blog http://rajaratarala.blogspot.com/
about whom I have written before. He is the British educated Sri Lankan who gave up a comfortable life in London to return to Sri Lanka to the life of a working farmer.

I called him up from Namala and he happened to be at his rural home in Ratmale, less than an hour's drive away. After waking Victor from his restful slumber, we packed a nice lunch of rice and curry and set off for Ratmale. The route took us past Habarana junction (famous for wild elephants sauntering on to the road after dark), where we turned right in the direction of the ancient capital Polonnaruwa. The road has been repaired recently and it was a smooth drive through the thick jungle till we turned off to the rutted dirt road leading to Ratmale. The jungle became scrub and the small houses of poor villagers began to appear. Although the time was around 2pm on a Friday, there was hardly anyone on the road. The people we met, although helpful in providing directions, seemed lethargic and possibly in low spirits because of the hard life they led.

Ratmale turned out to be a sleepy little hamlet with a couple of shops and a school. It is a "Purana" village, which means that the inhabitants have been there for centuries; they are not colonists who have been transplanted to the dry zone from other areas in the country. They lived in fear of wild elephants and would shut their doors and windows tightly in the evening, ensuring airless, sweltering nights.

Ranjit greeted us effusively. I recognized him and his house ("Kumbuk Pokuna Lodge") from the photos in his blog. He didn't seem to know who Victor was, which amused Victor, but it didn't seem unusual considering Ranjit's isolation and spartan lifestyle. He led the way to the beautiful Ratmale Tank (lake) just a few yards from the house.


Tanks are man-made reservoirs constructed in Sri Lanka's dry zone under the direction on ancient kings. In areas where water was in short supply, these tanks (shallow indentations supported by an earthen bund) were built to conserve as much rain water as possible in order to irrigate the rice fields. Ranjit claims that over one thousand such tanks exist in the Polonnaruwa area which has long been called the granary of Sri Lanka. The Ratmale Tank is easily over 1,000 years old. We found it to be in great shape.


Ratmale Tank. The sluice gate controls the flow of water to the rice fields below the tank.

Ranjit pointed out that wild elephants roamed the jungle on the other side of the tank. He bathed in the tank every morning, and during our visit, dozens of villagers walked past his house on the way to bathe and wash their laundry.


Victor, Ranjit, Lal (driver), and me on the bund of Ratmale Tank

"Kumbuk Pokuna Lodge" (the pond of kumbuk trees) is, in a sense, typical of Ranjit's approach to rural life. The veranda had no external walls and Ranjit's bed, with a mosquito net hanging above, was the only piece of furniture. His view consisted of the majestic kumbuk trees gently swaying in the wind. Obviously, he did not suffer sweltering nights. Free of electricity, running water, radio, TV, newspapers, Ranjit is able focus on what he likes best, cultivating his farm, observing the lives of the villagers, and writing his blog. He does own a mobile phone and a digital camera which he sends for charging to Ratmale village. He does not own a computer; when he wants to blog, he borrows one!

Because wild elephants pass by his house at night, he is in some danger. An elephant could easily reach out with its trunk and grab Ranjit while he's asleep. Elephants usually come looking for food and Ranjit has taken the precaution of building his kitchen away from the house. He also has a well for his water supply.



The verandah of Kumbuk Pokuna Lodge

We shared the lunch with Ranjit. During this time, Ranjit's helpers would stop by, some posing for photos with Victor when they recognized the visitor. Ranjit kept reminding the villagers that it was the Internet (and his blog) that had brought Ratmale to our attention. He repeated that his mission was to encourage young villagers to stay in Ratmale instead migrating to the cities or abroad by bringing the world to Ratmale through the Internet. As far as I observed, the villagers did not appear to find his lifestyle eccentric.

Ranjit capturing another memory

Ranjit had arranged a driver named Neville to bring his jeep for the safari, and we set off around 3pm from Ratmale. Ranjit kept up an ongoing commentary about the villagers, their lifestyle and habits as we drove along. He had also caught some fresh water shrimp nearby and described how he caught them.

Ranjit & me

After the safari, we returned to "Kumbuk Pokuna Lodge" and Ranjit became animated as he described the poverty and despair of the local farmers. It was growing dark and soon, wild elephants would be coming on to the road, which could pose some danger. So we bid a reluctant Goodbye to our unusual friend. As we left, a peacock flew on to the branches of a nearby tree to roost for the night. Nothing would have been more appropriate.

Victor was fascinated by Ranjit and his lifestyle and we all kept discussing him on the way back to Namala. Back in Hong Kong, I read that we would consume 31 billion barrels of oil, six billion tons of coal, and a hundred trillion cubic feet of natural gas this year. Their consumption will yield 30 billion tons of carbon dioxide. An alternative lifestyle must be found. Probably Ranjit already has the answer.

Travels with Victor

On July 3, we drove to Mahargama to pick-up Victor Ratnayake on our way to Dambulla. We only stopped twice on the way, once to have some "kola kanda" (herbal drink) at Gampaha.

Victor proved to be a fine traveling companion. He kept us entertained with stories of the Sri Lankan diaspora that he has met on concert tours, with jokes, and biting criticisms of politicians and bad drivers. I expected him to nap on the way, but he talked all the way on the three hour trip.


At breakfast, Namala Holiday Resort

Namala Holiday Resort, of which I am a shareholder (more about that in another entry) is about 3 km. from Dambulla town, near the international cricket stadium. Dambulla is within the so called Cultural Triangle, which includes Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa, two ancient capitals of Sri Lanka. It's steeped with Buddhism, history, and culture. In recent time, the main wholesale market for Sri Lankan agricultural products has been set-up at Dambulla, so it's also of commercial importance.


At Namala, after the morning walk

Victor gets up every morning at 5.00am and takes a walk, and, in the photo above, I caught him in a rare pose. He's very conscious of his health. No drinking, smoking, or eating meat. He told me that he used to smoke 50 cigarettes a day till 1991. I am surprised that his voice still sounds so mellow.



With Kanthi and the staff at Namala

The staff at Namala, all Sinhalese, were thrilled to have the famous musician in their midst. Victor deals in an appealing manner with people, calling them "son" or "daughter". He's charming and unassuming.


The lovely mango grove at Thilanka Spa

On the first evening, we drove to the nearby Thilanka Spa for a massage. Thilanka is built on a lovely mango grove, and, even in the midst of a drought, the surroundings were green and cool.

Because only one massage therapist was available, we urged Victor to have a go. He said it was the first time he'd had a massage and that he enjoyed it thoroughly.


On the safari jeep

The next morning, we wanted to visit the Kaudulla National Park to see elephants, but Victor was sleeping so peacefully that I didn't have the heart to wake him up. I had called Ranjit Hulugalle, the man who writes the "Dream into Reality" blog, and he was waiting for us with a safari jeep. Finally, we set off after noon with a packed lunch.


On safari. A lone elephant in background


Some elephants can be seen in the background

Victor was fascinated by Ranjit's lifestyle, which I'll write about later. This was Victor's first elephant safari and he enjoyed it a great deal.

We had to return on Saturday because Victor had a concert in the evening. His daughter told me that this was the first time that Victor had traveled for a purely recreational purpose. Next time, we'll take him to Kandy for a few days, and also try to wean him off the mobile phone to which he seems addicted!

Visit to Bellwood Farm

Bellwood Farm is the property that my brother-in-law Hamlin and I bought in April, mentioned under a previous entry titled "Hillside Paradise"! Actually, that was the title of the advertisement used by the previous owner. The land is part of the old Bellwood tea plantation, which has been subdivided many times for various purposes, mainly for distribution among landless people. Bellwood Farm is 17 acres in extent.

One morning, we started off from the Hantana house and traveled through the beautiful Hantana tea plantation on the way to Bellwood. Despite its proximity to Kandy town, the plantation is amazingly tranquil; for about 10 kms, we hardly encountered any traffic on the road. Of course, the road, like many such rural roads in Sri Lanka, was in very bad shape. But the lovely, carpet-like tea bushes, the smiling, curious faces of plantation workers and their children, the quaint churches (one dedicated to St. Sebastian) and Hindu kovils, the stunning valleys and pine plantations, the cool breeze blowing in through the open windows, kept us enthralled.



Our party consisted mainly of Fawzia's cousins Dudley, Shaan, Fati and their children. After about 10 kms of travel, we came to Galaha, a typical plantation town providing supplies of fertilizer, pesticides, weedicides, and small equipment to the surrounding plantations and provisions to the workers. In a country torn by ethnic strife, Galaha is unusual in that Sinhalese, Tamil, and Moor residents appear to live in harmony.

Three more kilometers of bone rattling roads and we were in Bellwood Farm. At Hantana, the elevation of about 2000 ft. and Bellwood is much higher, closer to 3500, so the climate is even nicer. We felt this as soon as we alighted from the van.



Bellwood is awash in greenery. Virtually anything grows there. The photo below shows coffee and pepper. Jak, cardamom, cloves, avocado, guava ... the list goes on. However, the land had been neglected in recent years and most of the produce has not been harvested.



The more verdant part of the land is steep, with a perennial stream flowing at the bottom. Beyond the land, this stream divides, one providing water to local rice farmers and the other forming a "spout" where locals come to take a bath and wash their clothes. This is also the opportunity for villagers to trade gossip and catch-up on the local news.

We are thinking of tapping the stream and to start bottling water. "Bellwood Spring Water" has a nice ring to it!



More than half the land consists of a grassy hillside, formerly planted with tea. Tea is fetching very good prices now and Hamlin is thinking of planting tea in the hillside. This isn't cheap: the cost of planting tea in an acre of land is about Rs. 300,000 (US$3,000).



I was pleased to see that Hamlin has already started some cultivation. Part of the land had been cleared and planted with carrots, tomatoes, celery, and other vegetables. They were sprouting, and two labourers were at work. Sarath, the caretaker, told me that the temporary fence they had constructed around the area was keeping out the wild boar, rabbits, and porcupines, although the seeds were attracting wood pigeons. When the tomatoes ripen, he expected the monkeys to arrive in droves. Farmers never have it easy: in the dry zone, it's the lack of water. In other areas, it's the animals and birds that destroy their crops.

A problem that dairy farmers face is the low wholesale price paid for milk. When we bought Bellwood, there were three milking cows, but the caretaker Sarath was not keen to keep them because the price paid for mild was less than that for bottled water! So, the cows have been sold.

The house at Hantana

Back in 1984, my son Roy was attending schooling in Kandy. He had been miserable at the school hostel and unhappy at the various teacher's houses where he had been boarded. When my parents agreed to move to Kandy and take care of Roy, we bought the house at Hantana.

Hantana is about 2 miles from Kandy, at a higher elevation than the historical city. (Kandy was the capital of the last King of Sri Lanka, who was captured and deported by the British. It is revered by Buddhists because the Temple of the Tooth (which is supposed to contain a tooth of the Buddha is kept there.) Hantana is actually a tea plantation which is still in operation. A part of it was taken over by the government in the early 1980s to build houses for the middle-class.

The construction was given to an Italian company, and they built the houses in a distinctive style never before seen in Sri Lanka. They had to build on the slopes, and Kandy experiences heavy rains, so the houses were constructed mainly of concrete. But certain aspects of the design, such as the parallel window panes, have proved a problem from the start. Frankly, I never liked the house, not least because we had to climb 34 steps to reach it. I didn't like the floor plan either, or the small bedrooms and the awkward corners.

Roy spent three happy ears at Hantana with my parents. He left for the USA in 1987 and my parents returned to their home closer to Colombo. We kept the house going, sometimes letting university students stay there for free or renting it out through a local agent. But it was a drain on my purse. On visits to Kandy, we would stay there for a couple of days at the most. During the 25 years I've owned it, I may not have stayed in the house for more than 60 days in total. It certainly doesn't feel like home.

My parents planted avocado, mango, and other fruit trees during their stay. These trees are bountiful now. After a brief stay last week, we plucked nearly 100 luscious avocado fruits and distributed them among the relatives who visited Hantana with us.

Although I don't appreciate Hantana, visitors do. This time, as the low country of Sri Lanka was sweltering in heat, the climate at Hantana was cool and nice. Not even a fan was needed. The water, coming from the springs of Hantana tea plantation, was crystal clear and the best we had tasted in Sri Lanka. Although I had plans to sell the house, I may face much opposition from family and friends now.

The photos below show the steps leading down to the road, and my dad posing in frot of the famous Hantana peak. He's sentimentally attached to the Hantana house because he lived there, under some hardship, when we first bought it. After all these years, he still has friends among the neighbours. Dad helped start an association of residents which is still doing good work.

Before the TV and telephone transmission towers were set up and it became a high security zone, climbing Hantana peak was a ritual for students from the nearby university. "Hantana" has strong romantic connotations for generations of university students and is celebrated in film, poetry, and song.

Return to "Pondside"

The house as seen from the road


I am back in Hong Kong after three weeks in Sri Lanka during which I did quite a lot of traveling. Friends are surprised at this because Sri Lanka is quite dangerous, with a civil war raging and bombs going off in towns and innocent people being killed. But I haven't faced any danger. Maybe I've been lucky.

We made a beeline to "Pondside" because it is where we can relax the best. After the heavy rains in recent months, the land was green and the mango, jak, and cashew trees were heavy with leaves and branches. Numerous birds and squirrels were to be seen. On the negative side, the pond was covered in algae and an edible water plant (called "kang kung" locally, a type of water spinach). This was a popular food during earlier hard times, but villagers, prosperous with remittances from relatives working in Italy, don't care for it now.


Looking towards the pond. Those are cashew and mango trees.

We like "Pondside" mainly for its tranquility and the fresh produce that comes from the garden. Because the house is about 50 yards from the road, we are not disturbed much by traffic which consists mainly of bicycles, motor cycles, and tuk-tuks. We can observe the passing scene without drawing attention to ourselves. The garden, rife with mangoes, papaya, jak, cashew, coffee, bread fruit, and vegetables, all grown organically, provides fresh and tasty food, cooked lovingly by Padma. What more can one wish for?

Prasanna is proud of his motorcycle

We do have electricity, running water, and a fridge at "Pondside" but we don't have a radio, a TV or a phone. No BBC, CNN, ATV. No worries about wars, the stock market, or the price of oil. This leaves us time to chat with Padma, Prasanna and the occasional relative or neighbour who cares to visit. We do have few relatives left in the village. My cousin Marie, her husband Bandara, and their son Charles and his family live a few hundred yards from us. Other relatives such as Ignatius, his sister Georgiana, and nephew Chryshantha are also nearby. When they see our car parked at the house, they drop by for a chat and a cup of tea.

Padma, Maduranga, and Prasanna

Not much had changed since our last visit. The two boys are taller. The second, Maduranga, is mischievous but is also good at his studies. The cow should be giving milk now, but, despite two artificial inseminations and one attempt with a stud bull, she is not showing signs of pregnancy. Padma, who was looking forward to the milk and the cash it would bring, is disappointed. We may have to buy another cow.

The huge "kumbuk" tree near the pond. It must be over 100 years old.

The magnificent kumbuk tree is the landmark at "Pondside". Kumbuk timber is light but hard and is prized as the best wood for fishing boars. We get regular offers from boat builders but wouldn't dream of cutting it down. Because it's rare in the area, people come from miles away to peel a piece of its bark for medicinal purposes. By the away, while at Ratmale, I saw miles and miles of kumbuk trees growing along the bunds of ancient tanks. More about that in another entry.

Maduranga, the younger boy, is good at his studies.

Village life is full of gossip, disputes among neighbors, and "Pondside" is not immune to these intrusions. Unfortunately, Prasanna appears to be prone to jealousy, and, despite warnings from me, has a tendency to become abusive towards his family. Padma had a nice brood of chickens which she kept for eggs and also sold for meat. When she was away visiting relatives, Prasanna had sold the lot to "teach Padma a lesson" and bought a mobile phone with the proceeds!

Tarzan, the "Pondside" dog

Tarzan usually roams the neighborhood but during our visits tends to stay at home and guard the house.