"Pondside"

My dad enjoying a ride at "Pondside". He's 82.

"Pondside" is what remains of the ancestral property that belonged to my dad's family. My grandmother Engracia Nonis, who had expanded a small piece of land by buying up adjoining plots in the early 1900s, gifted parts of the land to her children--my dad and his brothers and sisters. The part that is "Pondside" was given to my uncle George, who in turn sold it to his sister Mary. I bought the property, which is about one hectare, from Aunt Mary in 1977.

The property is named after the pond that borders one part of the land. My grandfather, Charles Stanley Braine, had the pond dug so that his large brood of children (six girls and three boys) would have a place to frolic. The pond is fed by a stream, which now brings pollutants in, so it's no longer safe for swimming or bathing. A body of water cools and greens the property and attracts birds and various small animals, so, polluted or not, it's still adds beauty to the property. The pond also teems with fish.

"Pondside" is a green oasis in a village that is fast becoming crowded with large houses built by the locals. In the 1980s, men from the village, almost all of them Catholics, began to leave for work in Italy. They were later joined by their wives and children. They obviously make good money working as housemaids, drivers, or in caring for the elderly. The only way of displaying their wealth is to build a large, modern house back in the village, so Boralessa (that's the name of my village) is full of these houses, which are largely unoccupied because their owners are in Italy. My house, which sits in the middle of my property, is only 800 sq.ft.

In the late 1970's, my family lived at "Pondside". When we first moved in, there was no electricity in the area. Life was simple, and I traveled to work at the Kelaniya University by train. Fawzia taught at the girls school in the village. The property had numerous fruit trees such as mango, guvava, cashew, ambarella, pomegranate, beli, and anoda. It also had coconut, jak, breadfruit, and some coffee. We also kept chickens for their eggs. We were, for the most part, self sufficient in food, except for rice, fish, and meat. And the produce was organic, although the term was not applied commonly to agricultural products at that time.

In time, we, too, went abroad, and a succession of friends and tenants lived at "Pondside". In 1995, when I moved from the USA to Hong Kong, we made a determined effort to revive the property. First, the old house, a relic from the 1940's, was pulled down and a new house built for my friends the Nizam and Eileen Dane, who were looking for a calmer life. Nizam (or Dane as I called him) was serving in the army, only two years from retirement, and Eileen had retired from the Central Bank after it was attacked by a suicide bomber. Tragically, Dane died in action soon after they moved into "Pondside"and Eileen didn't stay there for much longer.


My son Roy relaxing at "Pondside"

To give an idea of the prevalence of bird life on the property, let me show a list of the birds seen by my friends Kathy and Cully Wilcoxon, who spent a week there in January 2004.

Birds seen at “Pondside”, Boralessa (January, 2004)

Black-hooded Oriole
White rumped Munia
Indian Pond Heron
Little Cormorant
White-breasted Waterhen
Red-wattled Lapwing
Flame-backed Woodpecker
Red-vented Bulbul
Magpie Robin
White-bellied Drongo
Purple-rumped Sunbird
Long-billed Sunbird
Common Myna
Brown-headed Barbet
White-throated Kingfisher
Indian Pitta (a rare bird)
Asian Paradise Flycather
Pak-billed Flowerpecker
Great Tit
Little Egret
Yellow-billed Babbler
Oriental White Eye
Black Bittern
Koel
Palm Swift
Greater Coucal
Stork-billed Kingfisher
Blue-tailed Bee eater
House Crow


Jak fruit

"Pondside" is now looked after by Prasanna, his wife Padma, and their two children. We pay them a small sum monthly, provide free housing, and pay for their electricity. Prasanna is a coconut plucker. He climbs coconut trees and plucks the coconuts by hand, charging the owners Rs. 30 for every tree he climbs. This is a dangerous job because the coconut trees could be 50ft. in height and a fall could be fatal.


Prasanna and Padma in the vegetable plot

Prasanna and Padma take good care of the land and have made it thrive. They are naturals at the cultivation of vegetables and take pleasure in sharing the produce of the land. Padma keeps chickens and sells the eggs to her neighbours.


Padma and the two children with the cow.

In 2007, I gave some money to Padma to buy a calf. The family is looking forward to the milk that is expected this year.


Prasanna and Padma appear to have thrived since moving to "Pondside". In addition to a TV and furniture, they bought a refrigerator last year, a luxury for many Sri Lankans. This year, Prasanna bought a motorcycle; instead of bicycling to work, he now rides the motorcycle. He told me he had paid half the sale price of Rs. 60,000 in cash. We are happy to see them doing well.


Prasanna, Padma, and their two children, who are dressed for Sunday school.

To my regret, I don't get to spend much time at "Pondside". When in Sri Lanka, often on brief visits of a fortnight or so every year, I might spend a few nights at "Pondside", enjoying kos, polos, breadfruit, cashew, and mango cooked by Padma. These visits bring back memories of times when life was simpler and we lived closer to the land.

How to turn a Natural Disaster into a Crime Against Humanity

Burmese children scrambling for handouts after the cyclone


Burma and Sri Lanka have a number of things in common. Both were British colonies. Both gained Independence in 1948. Both are predominantly Buddhist and primarily agricultural, rice being the main crop. At independence, both had solid infrastructures with irrigation projects and well managed railways. Both changed names: Ceylon became Sri Lanka and Burma became Myanmar. And both are spiralling downwards in terms of the standard of living. In Sri Lanka, corrupt politicians are the cause. In Burma, thugs in army uniform have caused the debacle.

It's hard to imagine that, at independence, Burma was the richest country in South-East Asia. With huge resources, a high literacy rate, it was bound to succeed. Burma was so respected in the international community that U Thant, a Burmese, was elected to the post of Secretary-General of the United Nations. But, today, Burma is the poorest country in the region. It's a pariah state, ruled with an iron fist by the army since 1962.

The cyclone that hit two weeks ago is the last straw for two million Burmese living in the low-lying Irrawaddy Delta. According to one estimate, up to 200,000 may have died. More than a million are homeless. Disease and starvation stalks the delta. The Burmese government is not capable of handling such a catastrophe. It needs foreign aid, both financial and material, and foreign relief workers. Yet, to date, the ruling junta has not allowed the free flow of relief aid or relief workers into the country.

As Gwynne Dyer wrote in The Island newspaper, "the generals who rule Burma are ill-educated, superstitious, fearful men whose first priority is protecting their power and their privileges. They almost lost both during the popular demonstrations led by Buddhist monks last year, and they are terrified that letting large numbers of foreigners in now might somehow destabilise the situation again. . . [The junta is] fully aware that most Burmese hate their rulers, and fear that the presence of large number of foreigners might serve as a spark for another popular uprising." The junta has only approved 34 visas of foreign relief workers and allocated only five army helicopters to transport relief supplies.

What of the international community? ASEAN, the regional bloc which also includes Singapore, Indonesia, and Thailand, is impotent as usual. US ships, loaded with relief supplies, are waiting a few miles off shore for permission from the junta to land. The UN, embroiled in bureaucracy, can only preach.

China has major energy investments in Burma and may be the only country the generals will listen to. China must stop blocking Security Council action and use all its influence to press the junta to open up the country to relief efforts. China has now suffered a major disaster -the earthquake in Sichuan Province - and is handling it responsibly, quickly mobilizing the military for rescue work, allowing full media coverage, and welcoming offers of assistance. It should press Burma's generals to do the same, before there are no more victims left to save.

President Sarkozy of France was the first to propose the air drop of supplies in to Burma. Fearful of an international backlash with accusations of another Western invasion of a Third World country, his allies did not support him. But, an air drop will not only save hundreds of thousands of lives; it will also humiliate the ruling junta. It will lose face, on a massive scale, in the eyes of the Burmese people it has oppressed since 1962. An air drop could also be the beginning of the junta's end.

To me, Burma came alive with the writings of George Orwell, who served there as a police officer in colonial times. His immortal short story "Shooting an Elephant" and novel Burmese Days evoke a colony governed mostly with a velvet glove.

An air drop must take place before this natural disaster becomes a crime against humanity.

"Hillside Paradise"

With dreams of retirement in Sri Lanka in an idyllic setting in the cool hill country, I used to surf the Internet looking for suitable properties. Then, some years ago, I came across an advertisement that carried the title "Hillside Paradise". Ever the sucker for an appealing line, I visited the site and soon realized that the description of the property matched the headline.

"Hillside Paradise" was located in Galaha near the central hills of Kandy. According to the description, it was "17 acres in total, with a good clean title. It is comprised of two hills, one mostly wooded, and one mostly grass. . . There is a small creek which runs between the two hills, and a larger creek on one side. There is also a fresh water spring with an ample supply of fresh water. The property has two small but well built houses, one of about 800 sq. feet and one of about 500 sq ft. . . One or two acres is terraced, and was previously in tea." According to the description, the property has a variety of vegetation, including bananas, mangoes, jak fruit, avocado, limes, tea, coffee, pepper, and much more. In essence, a veritable Garden of Eden.

The asking price was US$79,000. I sent an e-mail expressing my interest, but Max, the owner, had lost interest in selling the property.




Last November, I was clearing old e-mails from my computer and came across Max' reply. So, I sent a message to him wondering if he had changed his mind. He had, and offered me the property at the reduced price of US$50,000. I was visiting Sri Lanka last December and got permission from Max to visit the property.

I drove through the picturesque Peradeniya Campus of the University of Sri Lanka on the way to Galaha. But, soon, the narrow road became difficult to negotiate, with numerous pot holes and sharp curves a constant challenge and danger. The 3 kilometres of road to the land beyond Galaha town was a disaster. In some places, it had been completely washed away and I thought the car would break down. Finally, I reached the property after a full hour's drive from Kandy. The description, and Max, had assured me the drive was only 30 minutes.

The caretaker Sarath is a prematurely retired agricultural instructor. He was doing his best to bring the property to an income generating state, with a small dairy of three cows, some chickens, and goats. He was paving the paths with rocks, clearing the land, and attempting to plant various fruit trees and vegetables. But rabbits, porcupines, wild boars, and monkeys were a nuisance, destroying everything that he cultivated. The main house was in even better state than Max had described. Two brooks flowed through the property and the sound of flowing water was music to my ears.


On the way back to Kandy, we drove through Hantana Estate, a beautiful tea plantation with rolling hills and lovely vistas. But the drive was difficult because the road had completely washed away in parts. The drive back to Kandy took an hour. The terrible roads dissuaded me from buying the property. Max seemed disappointed by my decision.


At this stage, I must say a few words about Max. Beyond his hotmail address, I knew nothing about him. I Googled, and he wasn't on the Internet. His messages, although always polite, were cryptic and written only in lowercase. He appeared to travel a lot, to Europe, North America, and India. After the deal was done, I was relieved to delete the more than 100 incoming and outgoing e-mail messages I had exchanged with him!

However, at the back of my mind, I had the feeling that the property was being sold at a bargain price, and that I should not let it go. Nevertheless, managing the property would not be easy, so I needed partners. Max kept hinting that the property was definitely on the market and that he would soon be accepting a "lowball" offer. Then, out of the blue, he offered me the property for $34,000 provided I could finish the deal by April 14. He said he was "fed-up" with Sri Lanka.

Then, I thought of Hamlin, my brother-in-law. Hamlin, a quantity surveyor by profession, has lived and worked in the Middle East for 25 years and was eager to return to Sri Lanka and become a gentleman farmer. When contacted, he was enthusiastic about the land, especially after he saw some photos on the Internet. He agreed to be responsible for the running of the "farm' and its day-to-day expenses. So, I had a partner. I also "invited"my friend and relative Gihan to coordinate the purchase, because neither Hamlin and I were in Sri Lanka. In the end, Gihan's help proved invaluable in putting the deal through.

But, the deal was far from done. Max owned the property in the name of a business he had set-up, and this caused some confusion. Further, he did not want to visit Sri Lanka to sign the deeds and wished to do it through a power of attorney from abroad, France or India, wherever he happened to be. He did not have any faith in his Sri Lankan lawyers, and my lawyers, with the best of intentions, wished to search the title of the property and go through the time consuming legal procedures. Enter my friend Herman Gonsal, who found us a lawyer who would not only expedite these procedures but also open his office on April 14, a public holiday. Finally, Max agreed to fly in to sign the deeds in person.

All parties met in Colombo on April 14 and the purchase went through smoothly. Max turned out to be an especially pleasant person, well traveled and widely knowledgeable about most matters. He wasn't the eccentric I assumed him to be. He had traveled from Delhi, where he worked for IKEA, and was taking excess luggage weighing over 100 kg (mainly books) from the property back with him.

In the end, we discovered that Max had paid $37,000 for the property, and spent at least $20,000 more on it. We got a bargain, a property worth at least thrice its purchase price. You lose some, but, occasionally, have a winner, too!

I hope to see Hamlin as a "gentleman farmer" before too long.

"Dream into Reality"

Ranjit's rice field at Hingurakgoda



The "kade" (village shop) at Meegoda


Don't we dream of changing our hectic lifestyles and getting back to the basics? Leaving the drudgery, the monotony, the stress and strain of modern life for that of a simple farmer, to start an ethnic restaurant, to write that great book lurking at the back of our minds? But, we are tied down by responsibilities, by family, the need for financial stability, and a hundred excuses to keep the status quo. We soldier on. Another day, another dollar.

Ranjit Hulugalle has actually realized his dream of becoming a farmer in rural Sri Lanka. Ranjit attended boarding school and university in Britain and lived a life of ease and luxury in Britain and the USA. His last job was that of Country Manager for Dilamh Tea in Britain. In London, he drove a Jaguar. Now, he has given all that up to become a son of the soil. He lives simply, without electricity or running water in Sri Lanka's rural north central province and drives a battered Tata truck to take his produce to Colombo.

Ranjit inherited a 10-acre coconut plantation near Colombo and sold the coconuts, king coconuts and other produce at a small "kade" (see photo) on the land. He later bought a 5-acre plot in Hingurakgoda, where he mainly grows rice (see photos). This land is surrounded by small farms like his as well as by wildlife, including elephants. In his blog titled "Dream into Reality", Ranjit narrates the joys and travails of running these farms, with delightful accounts of the rural people he meets or works with. He even lists the selling price of his produce. I read his blog because it brings calmness and serenity to my own life.

So, if you wish to share Ranjit's experiences, go to my favorite blog http://rajaratarala.blogspot.com/