I just returned from a 3 week trip to Sri Lanka, the island where I was born and spent the first 6 years of my life. Except for a brief visit a year after I left, I hadn't been back since. So yeah, that's 30 years, and the obvious question which came up from everyone was "Why now?" I didn't have a really good reason before the trip but I just knew I needed to go, and I am so glad that I did. Not only did the trip answer that question, it answered many more questions that I didn't even realize were swimming around in my head.
I've written a ton below on all my experiences and broken them into different sections, read as you wish, the basic travelogue comments are in the What I did section just below.
A full set of photos have been posted here.
Sri Lanka in brief
You can read a more exhaustive history of Sri Lanka here but here's what you need to know for the context of navigating this blog entry:
- Sri Lanka is an independent island nation in the Indian Ocean, south of India, with a population of ~20 million
- Sri Lanka is about 220 miles long and 120 miles wide, roughly the size of Ireland
- Sri Lanka's culture and history goes back over two thousands years
- Sri Lanka was colonized in past centuries by the Portuguese, Dutch, and British and many lasting influences remain
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Sri Lanka is composed of 2 main ethnicities: Singhalese (~74%) and
Tamil (~13%) people, both of whom emigrated from India
- Singhalese people are generally Buddhist and speak Singhala. Tamil people are generally Hindus and speak Tamil.
What I did
It took a difficult 45+ hours of door-to-door traveling, 23 hours of flying, to get to Sri Lanka because the flight I booked took me East through DC, London and then Colombo (the biggest city in Sri Lanka). Yes, I should have gone West. Mental note to myself: buy a fuckin' globe.
I softened my landing by checking into the Galle Face Hotel in Colombo.
Colombo itself was an assault on the senses so seeking refuge at the Galle Face turned out to be a smart idea. The city houses 4 million people and there is incessant traffic, noise, and people moving about in what can only be described as orchestrated chaos.
After a couple of days in Bentota, I had successfully lost track of which day it was. Next stop was the historic town of Galle on the South coast but along with way, I saw much of the lingering damage along the coast from the tsunami. It was staggering (whole section below).
I then arrived in Galle, a town that is unusual in that the coastal portion is enveloped by the walls of a centuries-old Dutch fort. The sturdy fort walls provided unexpected protection from the tsunami for those who resided behind them but those in the other coastal areas were not so fortunate. I spent the late afternoon hours walking the streets of Galle and snapping pictures of the locals going about their lives: a group of men "overseeing" the repair of a broken-down three-wheeler (aka tuk tuk), boys playing on the precarious edge of the fort wall with carefree abandon, two adorable little girls walking with umbrella in hand as a late afternoon shower began.
Ignoring my mother's advice, I took a chance at a hole-in-the-wall cafe and ordered some rice and curry, local's version (extra spicy). The meal was delicious and I survived unscathed. The woman who ran the place and did all the cooking was as charming as her two children who were running around and "assisting" customers. As was becoming pattern, talking with these people became a pleasant memory.
Next was the ascent into the hill country toward the surreal town of Kandy. As we climbed in altitude, the countryside quickly evolved from sand and palm trees to lush green fields and mountain-scapes.
Driving along the back roads, I saw the simple and vibrant activities of the villagers everyday lives: a mother washing her family's clothes and drying them in the mid-day sun, locals seeking refuge under the shade of one of the many road-side fruit stands, two children sharing a bicycle with ease and familiarity as they rode down a windy dirt road. Countless images like these are gently impressed upon my mind, peppering the the rich mosaic of memories from this trip.
I arrived in Kandy after dark, just as the evening rains started. Kandy is one of the original kingdoms of Sri Lanka that, because of its strategic perch in the mountains, withstood countless attacks by European imperialists over several centuries. And because of this safety provided, people continued to settle alongside the roads carved into the mountains, as well as around the Kandy lake (man-made by decree of a king a few centuries ago). The mountains and lake, coupled with luscious evening and morning mists, serve as an epic backdrop for this city in the skies and Kandy sits regally, retaining the pride of that ancient kingdom.
In Kandy, I stayed at this gorgeous boutique hotel called Theva Residency. It's owned and managed by one of Meera's oldest friends and is really something to behold. Built high up in the hills, it offers stunning views down into the town and the distant mountains. Aesthetically, the hotel seamlessly fuses luxurious modern design with detailed South Asian influences.
While in Kandy for a couple of days, I did a lot: I visited the botanical gardens and was blown away by the orchid house in particular, so many colorful varieties. I attended a traditional Kandyan dance performance which culminated with some fire-eating and fire-walking, pretty cool. I also checked out a tea factory and got a tour, seeing tons of tea being processed into delicious and aromatic black tea. Last but definitely not least, I visited the awe-inspiring Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic, known for housing the Buddha's tooth. The temple was really a complex of many chambers and it was humbling to be in the presence of such beautiful works: golden Buddha statues decorated with fresh purple and white lilies, intricate brass metal ornaments, golden metal flowers guilding the roofs high above. And to be among so many Buddhists visiting the temple with utter devotion, I was filled with reverence.
Next, it was time to return to Colombo to meet up with some long-lost relatives and shape up some New Year's Eve plans. Along the way, I stopped at the famous Pinnewala Elephant Orphanage. There are several dozen elephants of all ages just freely roaming the vast estate and you're free to engage with them, kind of like a broke-ass Jurassic Park. The baby elephants are pretty damn cute, and it was cool to see one of them guzzle several gallons of milk in a couple of minutes during one of the mid-day feedings.
Returning to Colombo, I checked into another boutique hotel: Casa Colombo. This place just blew my socks off. It's a restored two hundred year-old mansion with the eleven rooms converted into super-spacious ultra-modern suites filled with an endless array of amenities: claw-foot copper-plated bath tub, personal Macbook, giant flatscreen and high-end stereo, etc. Add to this that I was one of a handful of guests until New Year's and that I had a personal butler on-call 24/7, I felt like Richie Rich who had his own personal mansion to himself.
During this stretch in Colombo, I went over to my Uncle Preeti and Aunt Sue's home, a traditional Sri Lankan house in one of the residential districts. Even though it had been 30 years, they welcomed with open arms and had a delicious rice and curry meal prepared, and I was again in (home-cooked) heaven. For the very first time, I met their daughter Venya who was back for holidays from London where she had gone to college and now practices IP law. This was quite a treat, to discover a long-lost cousin who was hella-cool and into all types of eclectic music. I also met another Uncle and Aunt (Nihal and Niro) who I hadn't seen in quite a while and they also welcomed me with great warmth. Another one of my fears, how I would be treated by family, had quickly been dashed. I had a wonderful time talking with them on a range of topics, and the conversation was always filled with warmth and humor.
My last days in Colombo culminated with the attendance of an epic NYE party. Situated in the large open patio of the Galle Face hotel, this party had it all: DJ's flown in from Ibiza, Burlesque dancers, fire and smoke effects, huge video screen and stage, 2,000 Sri Lankans dressed to the nines, amazing food and drink; all situated next to the beach on a breezy 70-degree night! My only regret was that I didn't have any friends to share it with and was one of the rare moments where I felt alone there, even though I was surrounded by hundreds of people. Following Melvin's sage advice, I started to dance and found myself having fun.
As New Year's day arrived (with a delicious hangover in hand), my trip was winding down and I had just a few days left. I decided to head back down the South coast to another beach area, Unawatuna, for a few days. This was a busier beach town than Bentota for sure but not an over-developed resort area either, and it promised some of the most beautiful beaches in Sri Lanka. I wasn't disappointed. Staying at another delightful and simple guest house on the beach, I enjoyed this sumptuous view each morning (left). The water looked as if shavings of blue sapphire had dissolved indelibly into the warm ocean waters, and I found myself repeating a similar ritual as I did in Bentota.
I also was fortunate to be able to spend some time with another Aunt and Uncle while I was there; my mother's brother Gemenu and his wife Jyanthi. They were in nearby Galle, just a few kilometers away, and I had missed them my first time by as they were in Colombo. I received another warm welcome as they brought me to my mother's ancestral home, a house nearly a hundred years-old situated in a large estate filled with mango, guava, and pepper trees, just to name a few. Sitting on their patio in the balmy evening, I talked for hours with them about Sri Lanka, the war, the pending presidential election, as well my Uncle sharing anecdotes about my father and mother.
The day before I was to fly back, I returned to Colombo for one last night in another five-star hotel, the Trans Asia Cinnamon Lakeside. It was a nice way to pamper myself yet again before making the long journey back home. I spent that final evening at my Aunt Niro and Uncle Nihal's home where I encountered additional Aunties and Uncles galore. I met a couple of my father's sisters who I hadn't seen in nearly 25 years as well as their charming husbands. That night, had my last tastes of home-cooked rice and curry and sipped Scotch with my Uncles as we all talked late into the evening, sharing a lot of laughter along the way.
And then it was time to come back to the States. I was noticeably sad when I was en route to the airport, and not just because it was the end of a fabulous vacation and I would be returning to work soon. The sense of connection with my family, the people, and my island home; it had been rekindled and it was bittersweet to leave that as it was just beginning..
Why I needed to go
When I was asked the "Why now?" question about the trip, I had given many stock answers "I have the time now", "I have the money now", "The war is over". But none of these reasons were actually barriers in the past and were really just excuses, the simple reason is I had been afraid to return. And I knew I needed to face this fear and that's why I was returning, but to understand this a little better, I should explain a bit about how we left Sri Lanka in the first place.
How I left Sri Lanka
My mother immigrated to Washington DC in 1978, a full year ahead of me, my sister, and my father. She left to forge a path for us, and truth be told, to get some distance from my father! She wanted to provide a better life for us, the possibility of which was provided by the abundance of opportunities in America. My mother worked under the table for a year for next to nothing but it was enough to pull the rest of us over in 1979.
In Sri Lanka, my mother was a respected member of her community, the high society of sorts in Colombo. My father was a well-regarded officer in the military with 20 years under his belt. They had tons of friends and family who adored them. When my father moved here, he took a job parking cars and my mother worked as a secretary. It was a huge adjustment for both of them, the sum of sacrifices my parents made for me and my sister is astonishing.
Those early years were rough, we were quite poor the imperative was that we "assimilate". Our first teachers encouraged us to speak only English around the home so we'd learn it faster. As a six year-old, I learned English really fast but an unfortunate by-product was that I forgot any Singhala I knew quickly as well. This was one of the reasons I was afraid to return: I was a Singhalese person who didn't speak his native language, it was embarrassing.
Over the next several years, my focus continued to be, in varied ways, to assimilate. Sri Lanka seemed to grow more and more distant. I could barely remember the names of relatives and how they fit in the vast family tree we had.
I continued to see myself more and more as American. Even in college, when I dated a Sri Lankan girl (she was hot and hotness is hotness, assimilation or not) who was part of a large young Sri Lankan community, I balked at being involved with them. "Why do I need to hang out with just Sri Lankans?" I argued with her. My existing friends were like a friggin' Benetton ad, all colors of the racial spectrum. The alternative question I failed to explore was while I didn't have to hang out with just Sri Lankans, why did I choose to not hang out with any?
It's an insidious nature of the mind to separate ourselves from things from which we are actually not separate at all. I wanted to confront my feeling of disconnectedness and see what it would teach me and I learned a lot in the process.
Me in Sri Lanka
On the drive from the airport to Colombo, gazing out at the flurried activity around me, I had a total "Malkovich, Malkovich" moment. In the face of a boy riding his scooter, I saw my cheekbones. I saw my furrowed brow on the expression of a shop keeper along the road. And I saw my smile -everywhere.
The striking preponderance of my features, seeing how common they were, was a quick and subtle lesson: you are not separate at all. These people are a part of you and you are a part of them. I can't tell you how simple and profound that was, to be surrounded by so many people that look like you! As someone just pointed out to me, "yeah, you were the majority for once" and the weight of that began to sink in.
The People
Everywhere I went, I talked with the people I encountered: taxi drivers, shop attendants, hotel workers, whomever I met. I should note that at first, I was somewhat wary of their motives, still carrying a scar from being scammed and pick-pocketed in Buenos Aires last Spring. But I was quickly disarmed. There was a clear authenticity about all of these people, a calmness and overriding sense of hospitality. They didn't ask me where I was from because it was an angle for setting me up, they were just curious. And Sri Lankans always seem to be teasing one another, in search of a good-natured laugh, humor was a common element in every exchange.
Before I went, Meera told me that I would see why I am the way I am. Here in the States, I was celebrated and developed a selfish pride for being social, hospitable, and humorous. Turns out that's just being Sri Lankan! I realized that Sri Lankans in America (which continues to strive towards being more warm and open) are like Kryptonians on Earth -here, we have super-powers!
Registering these personal qualities as common to Sri Lankans removed yet another layer of my feeling of disconnectedness. And I never felt judged for being away so long, or the fact that I didn't know the language. They were curious as to why but never angry or dismissive. The common conclusion was "Well, you're here now, and you'll just have to come back more often!"
With all the adversity these people have faced, from the war to the tsunami, there's an incredibly resiliency and open-heartedness that has persevered, and it was inspiring to experience. I find these qualities especially strong in my mother, and it was cool to see where she gets it from.
If there's any single highlight from my trip, it's the people I met. Their smiles, spirit, and warmth will most certainly stay with me as long as all the images of the idyllic beaches and countrysides.
Nearly 1/4 of the country's population
lives in the cities. In these areas, you find all the qualities of a
modern South Asian city: cell phones, pollution, Western clothes,
pirated DVD's, bad television programming and pop music, noise,
shopping, restaurants, incessant traffic, etc.
In the villages along the coast and inland, things slow down quite a bit. Most people are living lives similar to those of several decades ago: farming, fishing, producing textiles, etc. With the exception that now seemingly everyone has a cell phone (you can get 5 bars way up in the hill country -can you hear me now, SF?), the lives of the villagers remain simple and unaffected by the growth and pace of the urban meccas trying to transform the country into the next Singapore.
All the young people consistently wear Western clothes, and cutting-edge fashion at that in the cities (plenty of skinny jeans and white belts sadly). The elder generation are still sporting the elegant saris and colorful sarangs which I was happy to see.
When I left Sri Lanka 30 years ago, there were two clear strata: you either had servants or you were a servant. Now, there seems to be a thin emerging middle class but those other strata are still dominant. When I had dinner at my Aunt and Uncles', servants prepared and served the food, only interacting with us to take instruction. No one raised an eyebrow when I would make eye contact with the servants and thank them for serving me or taking a dish but you could see they (the servants) were surprised and uncomfortable with this.
Meditation
During my travels, I got back into a steady daily practice of meditation. As I sat, all types of old feelings and memories came up. Early on, there were tremendous feelings of guilt and loss for being away so long. And there were also feelings like I should have been doing more for my country and people because of the strife they've endured. I felt guilt for the life I enjoyed and undeserving of all those spoils when I saw Sri Lankans working so hard for a fraction of what I had achieved.
In reality, this happens all around the world but it took some time to tease apart my personal entanglement because these were my people. In the end, I realized that there was beauty in this sadness I felt, that it was compassion for and feeling of connectedness with my people and culture. And again, what was once separate was shown not to be that way at all.
As my trip continued and my meditations progressed, I felt this sense of wholeness and connectedness continue as well. I welcomed all the feelings that came up, giving mindful attention and compassion to them, and allowing the bond I felt with the island and its people to deepen. I had deeper and more thoughtful conversations with the people I continued to meet, appreciating them more and more. This is what I was grieving when I had to leave.
Not only did this trip provide a return to my homeland, it ultimately provided a return to me. Being in this culture of warmth and openness grounded me again, reminded me of how I want to live my life and interact with others.
I knew that I needed a driver in Sri Lanka. Trust me, you don't want to drive there. You feel like you're on the verge of a catastrophic accident every few seconds, seeing a double-decker bus coming at you in your lane full-speed, and this is routine. Cars, tuk tuks, buses, trucks, bicycles, are all jostling for position in an endless competition for the two meager lanes of road they all must share. But somehow it all works and no one loses their shit, so I just went into a Zen state after sitting in the car observing this controlled chaos for a few days.
When I arrived at the airport, I had a randomly assigned taxi driver. His name was "Jaya" which I understood later was actually short for his last name "Jayasinghe". He was a pleasant man who looked about to be in his 50's. He asked if I had a driver while I was there and at that time, I thought I already did through a contact of my father's. He asked me to read his "travel book" which turned out be a series of glowing letters of recommendation from all the tourists who traveled with him over the years. When my father's contact didn't pan out, I phoned Jaya. Beyond his pleasantness, he had an uncanny resemblance to my step-father which endeared him to me.
Jaya ended up driving me all over the country and we would spend hours nearly each day in the car together. I grew to like Jaya more and more, and learned a lot about him. It turned out he was not in his 50's but actually 70! He had been driving for nearly 50 years and took great pride in his role of showing people his country.
I learned that the last few years especially had been hard for him, because of tsunami and the war. He hadn't had any steady income in months. Still, he turned out jobs for driving ministers from political parties he didn't support. He said he drove privately (he leased his own car, a Hyundai beater with 270K km's on it) so he could pick his customers. Jaya was a man of great dignity which I respected.
He appreciated that I often asked if he was hungry, tired, etc. He said I was "a gentleman" and not all tourists were like that. For me, this was just basic humanity, I saw how hard this man worked. The only thing we would fight about is his insistence of loading and unloading my heavy suitcase; I kept trying to do that himself and he always wrestled it away from me.
I asked Jaya if he had any health problems, he was 70 after all. He proudly told me has not needed any medicine, he had no health issues. He said he lived life with "a open heart" and that has seemed to work well for him. Once when I arrived at a guest house which had accidentally given away my reservation, he stayed with me for nearly 45 minutes (even though he had been driving over 12 hours that day) until he was sure I had gotten another room. I told him it was fine for him to leave but he refused and said he was not leaving until I was checked in. This was Jaya.
In the end, Jaya became a friend and companion to me and not just my driver. We talked a lot about his life, the country's history, and its future. He didn't care if someone was Singhalese, Tamil, Muslim, he just wanted peace and prosperity for the country. Like so many others, he was just trying to make a simple life for himself and his family. He was so excited that the war was over because "people will come now" and he "can drive them everywhere".
On my last day, I met his family and saw how he lived. He lived with his wife in a simple village home with a couple of rooms, open/unsealed roof, and basic electricity. They got their water from a well, cooked in a fireplace outside, and grew lots of fruit and spices in their bountiful green property. He had great pride in showing me his home but it was clear that they were struggling. In the end, I left him with a tip that he at first felt uncomfortable taking but I knew that this was ~two months of his living expenses and just a fraction of what he needed. I told him I was lucky to have a good job and steady money and I was happy to help him. And I told him I would be back and also recommend any of my friends who visited to hire him as a driver, you can't do better than Mr. Jayasinghe.
Five years ago, the day after Christmas, a tsunami struck Thailand, Indonesia and Sri Lanka. In Sri Lanka, it devastated the South coast and killed 30,000 people. Besides the staggering loss of life, for those who survived, their lives were irrevocably changed. So many lost family and friends, villagers lost homes they had lived in for generations and didn't have the money (or official deeds) to rebuild, tourism plummeted after it was just starting to come back because of a cease-fire in the civil war.
Now, five years later, many of the resorts and guest houses along the coasts have been rebuilt, and thanks to whatever international aid actually reached the people (much still has not, it's been horded by the corrupt government), many homes have been rebuilt, too. My mother personally raised over $200,000 to rebuild homes, school, and a small clinic in my grandfather's ancestral village.
As I heard over and over again while traveling along the coast, the inhabitants "just need people [tourists]". I had the luxury of having some of the most beautiful beaches to myself but would of course trade that in a second for more travelers to discover the beauty of this island and hospitality of its people to spark that tourist economy yet again. This is the best way you can help the people, not through NGO's or government, but by visiting and putting money directly in the hands of the people who need it.
The War
In May of last year, a near 30-year civil war came to end in Sri Lanka. The war had been waged by the Singhalese-led Sri Lankan government and military against the LTTE "Tamil Tiger" terrorist group fighting for a separate Tamil state in the North.
The nature and roots of this ethnic conflict is layered and complex and I do not profess to understand all of it nor am I trying to simplify it by describing it in a few sentences but I need to try and provide some context.
The seeds of this unrest were planted during the British colonial era when the British showed "favor" to the minority Tamils in the North by granting them advanced education and leadership positions in their power structure. This resulted in Tamils being "over-represented" in public office and universities generations later. When Sri Lanka gained independence from the British shortly after WWII, the majority Singhalese took power in government and made the ill-advised moves to declare Singhala the sole national language and Buddhism the sole national religion. This was partly a "fuck you" to the British for their proselytizing of Christianity and the English language but it also served to instantly marginalize the Tamil people. Discriminatory practices continued with the government cutting the number of Tamil positions in universities in the early 70's, further breeding resentment and unrest. Violent conflicts began to emerge in the mid-70's in the north between Singhalese and Tamils. This escalated through the 70's until it erupted in 1983 when some Tamil militants ambushed and massacred a Sri Lankan military patrol, resulting in thousands of Tamils being killed in reprisal while the government sat and watched. A full-scale war followed.
After decades of bloodshed, nearly a hundred thousand lives lost including and more suicide bombings than in Israel, a major offensive by the Sri Lankan military extinguished the LTTE including its leadership this past May. The country has been without visible conflict since then but there still remains no lasting political solution for putting the Tamils on equal footing with the Singhalese. The government only focused on the military solution and had no plan for the hundreds of thousands who lost their homes and loved ones in the conflict.
Most of these people are now in IDP (Individually Displaced People) camps in the North. One of my Uncles came out of retirement from the Sri Lankan military to work as a civilian in getting one of these camps going. He said it was important that this was a civilian operation and there was no military presence which is unsurprising. He, along with two other retirees, worked with several dozen university student volunteers to get this 50,000 person camp going. He said the first few months were grim, there were shortages on food, medicine, and labor to provide for these people but it was getting better. And he shared with me an encouraging story of Tamil and Singhaelse children from Colombo schools being bussed in to learn and play with the Tamil children in these camps as well as the reverse.
The war can be a difficult subject for most there to talk about, it touches a lot of nerves. The overriding theme from everyone I talked to regardless of class or role in society was that they wanted peace and they all shared a simple desire for prosperity for their families and the country. The war has been perpetuated by extremists on both sides; hawks in the government and terrorists in the Tamil rebel side. "95% of the people want peace", echoed my Uncle.
In Colombo, multiple ethnicities work side by side and while I am sure there is a lot of unspoken anger about the devastation from this now multiple-generation conflict, there is this clear wish to brush aside the past and move into a prosperous future. Perhaps this brushing aside is not the healthiest action but the country has to figure out on its own over the course of many years how to heal the national pysche from so much trauma and integrate the Tamil people fairly into a balanced society. So, perhaps denial is just the first stage of grief and a smaller step in the overall process of healing.
I choose to be optimistic because, really, there is no other choice. Sri Lanka has to find a way to move past this, there is too much precious value in the people and the land that needs to be shared with the world.
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