Three weeks in Sri Lanka

Pending retirement, I sent my furniture and appliances from Hong Kong to Pondside, and that was in February. The photo shows what the small living room in Pondside looks like, jammed with stuff. The two bedrooms, one recently built and with a floor area of 500+ sq. ft, haven't fared any better. So, works remains to be done.

My October stay at Pondside, except for some irritable developments, was pleasant. Rain had fallen ending an intense drought, so the land was green. The pond was filling up although it did not spill over. The effects of the drought could be seen on the cashew trees, where some buds and young leaves had dried up prematurely.

I slept in the large room built recently, often with the windows wide open. A breeze seemed to blow through constantly, and one moonlight night, I woke to find the garden bathed in light. At 5.30am sharp, prayers and hymns would blare thru loudspeakers, broadcast from the nearby St. Anne's Catholic church. My village is 90% Catholic but isn't particularly pious. At one time, it was infamous for moonshine production; burglaries, violent disputes over land ownership, spousal abuse, and drunkenness were common. I have met the parish priest, a youngish man who appeared to have some common sense. So the broadcasting of hymns and prayers comes as a surprise. Like me, many villagers probably wake up with a curse at the noise, and it certainly won't add to their religious fervor. The Buddhist temple, located on the fringe of the village, also began to broadcast chanting, but has been rather subdued recently, although I can hear the chants when the wind is blowing in my direction.

The church noise would stop about half an hour after it began but then my neighbors would begin their noise pollution, with amplifiers turned up at full volume going "dum, dum, dum ..." aimlessly. This is supposed to be music. Like in most places I visit (except Japan), noise at full volume appears to be part of life so my village hasn't escaped.

Because we would need more space after retirement, I extended a room and the kitchen at Pondside, while adding a small toilet and adding to the height of the water tank (to increase the water pressure. We pump from a well.) I now have a spacious bedroom with a nice deck where I sit, chatting with visitors, enjoying my breakfast, and doing nothing, especially late at night. An open deck is not a common concept in Sri Lanka, so I am never short of advice from visitors. Some insist that I put up a roof (to protect the wood), others advice me to concrete it over. After it's been there for nearly a year now, I think the idea that it's a place to relax is slowly dawning on the villagers.

The cost of renovation and construction has been staggering, coming to nearly US$20,000 (HK$160,000). This is an incredible amount in Sri Lanka, but not in my village. As I've written previously, many fellow villagers live and work in Italy, and like to flaunt their wealth by building mansions in Sri Lanka.

These are two examples of "Italian" houses in the village. First, a large parapet wall with an elaborately designed gate is built. A year or two pass by, and, as more cash is accumulated, the rest of the house comes into shape. These "Italians" are not in professional jobs, often working as housemaids, cooks, and caregivers to the elderly, and some even working as street vendors. Lacking intelligence or common sense, most of their earnings are dumped into building these mansions, which are, in the absence of owners and grown children (who reside in Italy), usually occupied by their elderly parents and spoiled children of school going age. Local contractors, masons, and carpenters are exploiting the situation to the full, overcharging for their work. Because they don't build according to architectural advice, the designs of these houses change according to the new styles that come along. (Bathroom fittings and other appliances are often brought from Italy.) So, as I learned, any type of building construction is extremely costly in my village, thanks to these "Italian" expats. Unfortunately, such houses are being build in other parts of Sri Lanka, too.

In retirement, I have decided to reduce the number of properties I won, so the house at Digana, 14 kms. from Kandy town, is on the market. Only Rs. 5.2 million, which translates to HK$360K. Any takers? (see below)

Kanthi, who takes care of Pondside, provided my meals. I went out and bought fresh fish and prawns from the beach, and she got the vegetables I like. For dinner, I walked over to cousin Marie's house, usually for a feed of hoppers, a thin, crispy, pancake like delicacy. The hoppers were not baked at home (the preparation is rather elaborate) but bought from a street vendor near the railway station. There's a saying in Sri Lanka which goes "selling like hot hoppers". I saw what that meant, with people lining up to buy the stuff every evening.

Hoppers. One is an egg hopper.

The street vendor. She was operating 4 burners, and may have cooked hundreds of hoppers every evening.

This is Tommy, the new dog at Pondside. Only 6 months old, and frisky. The senior dog, Tarzan, a born Romeo, had a habit of wandering off in search of female company, and would return after a couple of days sated but bruised from numerous fights with other male dogs. This time, two weeks after he left, Tarzan had not returned, so I may not see him again.

This is my cousin Chryshantha with his kids. He was in charge of my house renovation and construction. With his tall good looks, Chryshantha was chosen years ago to play the role of Christ in the Passion Play staged by villagers. The history of the village Passion Play needs to be told, but that'll have to be on another day.