War's end lures tourists back to Sri Lanka
nuanho nuanho
Sri Lanka's bitter 25-year civil war has come to an end, and tourists
can safely return to this island off India to enjoy its beauty,
history, diversity and friendly people
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By FRED BRUEMMER, Freelance
"Serendip,"
Arab traders called Sri Lanka ages ago, the "Island of Gems." From
this our word "serendipity" is derived, the gift of finding unexpected
but beautiful things. This often happened to us on Sri Lanka, for it
was once aptly named "The Island of the Blessed," the earthly paradise
given to Adam and Eve after they were turfed out of Eden because of
that unfortunate affair with the apple.
"Paradise" seems ironic when talking about a country reft by a bitter
25-year civil war, now finally over, that consumed much of the
island's wealth and crippled its once flourishing tourism industry.
But the war, in its final days when we were there, really didn't touch
us. We simply followed local advice and avoided the danger zones of
the northeast. That left us about 90 per cent of this beautiful and
diverse island, known until 1972 as Ceylon, "the pearl near the
southern tip of India."
As a result, our first and lasting impression during a two-month trip
to this magic island was its friendly population. We usually stayed in
nice but modest (and modestly priced) guesthouses in villages and near
towns. When we walked through a village in the velvety warmth of a
tropical evening, nearly everyone greeted us with a friendly "hello."
The kids practiced their school English: "How are you?" they would
ask. "Where you from?" "From Canada." "Oh." they would laugh. "Very
good. VERY BIG!" They would wave and smile. "Bye-bye," they would
call. "Be happy!"
Sri Lanka, smaller than New Brunswick, is crammed with history and
beauty. Where else on earth can you find a place like the 2,243-metre-
high Adam's Peak: that, say ancient tales, is where Adam arrived
(together with Eve); Buddha stood on its summit and left his
footprint, Sri Pada, as he ascended to heaven; Mohammed stopped
briefly; and, before him, the peak was visited by St. Thomas, one of
Christ's disciples, by the Lord Shiva and, some say, by King Solomon.
It is sacred to Buddhists, Hindus, Christians and Muslims, and during
the annual pilgrimage season, from the "poja" (the full-moon day) in
December to the poja of May, tens of thousands of pilgrims of many
faiths help each other as they ascend (usually at night) the 5,200
steep steps and pray together at sunrise atop the magic mountain.
Sri Lanka, smaller than New Brunswick, is crammed with history and
beauty. Where else on earth can you find a place like the 2,243-metre-
high Adam's Peak: that, say ancient tales, is where Adam arrived
(together with Eve); Buddha stood on its summit and left his
footprint, Sri Pada, as he ascended to heaven; Mohammed stopped
briefly; and, before him, the peak was visited by St. Thomas, one of
Christ's disciples, by the Lord Shiva and, some say, by King Solomon.
It is sacred to Buddhists, Hindus, Christians and Muslims, and during
the annual pilgrimage season, from the "poja" (the full-moon day) in
December to the poja of May, tens of thousands of pilgrims of many
faiths help each other as they ascend (usually at night) the 5,200
steep steps and pray together at sunrise atop the magic mountain.
We start our trip in Colombo, the busy, sprawling commercial capital
of Sri Lanka, a fascinating amalgam of East and West, of modern
department stores and teeming oriental bazaars where you can buy
anything from the gorgeous gems that made Sri Lanka famous (the
world's largest rubies and sapphires came from this island, including
the 400-carat sapphire in the British crown) to Ayurvedic, or
traditional, medicines that reputedly restore health and rejuvenate
the body. Language is never a problem. Apart from Sinhala and Tamil,
English is the lingua franca of the country.
From Colombo, we travel in the teak-panelled "observation car" of a
charming, bouncy train high into the country's central mountain region
that was once the Kingdom of Kandy with cities of stunning splendour
and some of the world's first hospitals. Deposed by British troops in
1815, the king of Kandy was Sri Lanka's last royal ruler.
Being home to so many different religions, Sri Lanka has a plethora of
holy days and holidays, more holidays, they happily claim, than any
other country in the world. The greatest festival, the Esala Perahera,
with probably the most sumptuous procession in all of Asia, is held
annually during the time of the full moon in July/August in Kandy.
Thousands of drummers, torch-bearers and the flamboyantly dressed
Kandyan dancers escort a great procession of more than 50 gorgeously
caparisoned elephants through Kandy. The largest, most venerated
elephant carries, beneath a jewel-studded baldachin, a golden replica
of the sacred tooth snatched from Lord Buddha as his body was being
cremated in 483 B.C. and smuggled to Sri Lanka 794 years later.
Most Sri Lankans love their elephants. Long ago, they worshipped them:
elephant statues and effigies ornament many temples and memorials to
Buddha. About 4,000 wild elephants still live in Sri Lanka, about half
of them in the country's superb national parks, the rest in the
extensive jungle regions of the island.
To protect villages and fields from marauding elephants, farmers
encircle the villages with deep ditches. Occasionally baby elephants
slip in, get mired and are abandoned by their herd. These hapless mud-
smeared waifs are brought to one of Sri Lanka's two elephant
orphanages.
One orphanage is at Pinnewala, an hour's drive from Kandy. Every
morning at 10, the elephants young and old (83 during our visit) march
from their spacious sanctuary down a village street to the river for
their morning bath. Restaurants and cafés line the shore. You can have
lunch or enjoy a cold beer and watch as the elephants spray themselves
or are being scrubbed by their mahouts. (For a little tip, you, too,
can wash an elephant!)
At noon, the elephants return to their enclosure for a hearty lunch:
100 kilograms of grass and leaves for every adult, washed down with a
hundred litres of water.
The Pinnewala animals have nearly everything that elephants desire:
lots of food and water, daily baths, good company, and sex every three
years. But they lack freedom. That's perhaps why we preferred a
second, less well-known orphanage, the Elephant Transit Home near the
great Uda Walawe National Park. Only baby elephants are kept there (36
at the time of our visit). Once they're weaned at the age of 3 or 4,
they are released and join the 450 wild elephants in the national
park.
There are several feedings (each elephant calf gets 40 litres of milk
a day). You can watch it from a nearby platform. It is funny and
charming: a baby elephant filling station. They rush up on urgent
little pillar legs, shrieking shrilly in anticipation, and as milk is
poured into them through a funnel their eyes roll up in ecstasy.
In Kandy, we hire a car and driver. Wise tourists in Sri Lanka travel
with car and driver from guesthouse to guesthouse or hotel - it's the
nicest way to go.
Ours is a friendly young man, Prabat, driver, guide, problem-solver
and, finally, friend. He shows us the extensive ruins of what were
once among the most beautiful cities on earth, the ancient royal
capitals of Sri Lanka: Anuradhapura (founded in 380 B.C.) and its
successor, Polonnaruwa; the 1,500-year-old mountain fortress of
Sigiriya (the Lion Rock) built as a refuge by a parricide king atop a
sheer-faced, 200-metre-high granite crag; and the ancient, brilliantly
painted and superbly preserved cave-temples of Dambulla, all four
UNESCO World Heritage Sites.
In a niche half-way up Sigiriya Rock, we admire the frescoes of
voluptuous wasp-waisted, big-bosomed women (goddesses, say some
experts; concubines say others), ancient but marvelously vivid, and
see, nearby, traces of graffiti incised by ardent admirers 1,500 years
ago. For example, "Women like you make my body tremble with desire."
After days immersed in history, we travel south into another of Sri
Lanka's many disparate regions: the highlands where the island's
famous tea is grown, and its "tea capital," Nuwara Eliya. Here are the
great tea plantations founded by the British. It was at this pleasant
hill station that colonial civil servants played golf, watched horse
races, went for walks in the lovely Victoria Park, and dined on roast
beef at their exclusive clubs. They have gone, but their spirit
lingers, including the cool climate and frequent drizzle.
That's just what tea loves, and the highland hills are covered with
tea bushes, neatly trimmed and sculpted. Tamil women, many in
colourful saris, dot the emerald-green hills, each one plucking 16
kilograms of newly sprouted tea leaves a day. We roam the verdant
hills all day and dine at night in the lovingly preserved ambience of
a colonial era dining room, served by white-gloved waiters.
We end our trip on Sri Lanka's southern coast, the fun-in-the-sun
playground of the island, with postcard-pretty palm-girt crescents of
sand washed by the warmish waters of the Indian Ocean. It's fairly
close to every chilled Canadian's dream vision of "tropical beaches."
The southeast coast has surfer-sea. "The waves are great!" a group of
happy young Australians tells us.
We opt for the more sedate waters of Unawatuna, protected by a distant
reef, ideal for long leisurely swims in a gentle sea. At night, we
dine by candlelight on a terrace near the sea, and we are charmed by
this island that charmed so many.
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