Once I has seen the statue of the Buddha entering into Nirvana, I did not want to see anything more at Pollunurwa. I walked back to the car in tears and it took me sometime to recover. However, because my camera had not functioned I hoped to get some postcards back at the museum. We drove back to where we had bought the permit for me to enter Pollonaruwa and strode into the museum. A dog was lying in the entrance panting in the hot sun. It urinated as it lay there but did not bother to move. There was something reassuring about this commonplace sight that brought me back to earth after the ecstasy of the statues. The museum was cool and had very good displays- by far the best that I had seen in Sri Lankan museums up to that point. There was an overall plan of the Pollonaruwa sight which was very helpful in putting what I had seen in geographical perspective. There was also a wonderful imagined facsimile of the round ruined temple that i had seen whch gave one some idea of the majesty and beauty of Pollonaruwa in its heyday.
Alas, there were no postcards of the statues of the Buddha and the only definitive guidebook that was in my price range was in French. The people who served in the shop were having their lunch in a back room, sharing rice and curry from newspaper, rather in the same way as we would eat fish and chips. They were very reluctant to get up and serve us (it did look a delicious meal!) but eventually did so on the request of our driver and even took the dvd of the site that I bought out of its case and tested it for me.
Then it was back to the hotel for dinner and much digestion of the past day.
The following morning we were off again, early, to drive up to the hill country where we would be staying in a planter's bungalow on a tea plantation. Tania my hostess was brought up on a tea plantation as her father was a planter in the days of British rule and beyond. Many of the cooks who had served the British went to work for the Sri Lankan planters and kept the recipes that had been given to them by their British mistresses, closely guarded secrets. Tania says they kept the practice of wearing livery and would serve them lovely desserts like butterscotch, creme caramel or bread and butter pudding. It sounds as if she had an idyllic childhood and was very happy in the cool hills of the tea plantations.
Before we left, we drove around the Siguria rock and saw the great moats that had been built around the base of the rock. Some of these in the dry season were now empty of water but filled with plants and monkeys.
On the way, Tania suggested that we might drive through Kandy so that I could catch sight of some of its famous landmarks. I was very happy about this as i had hoped that we might be able to visit Kandy. However I was not prepared for the quantity of traffic and pollution. This medieval town, which was once the capital of Sri lanka is built on a hill and in order to reach the main centre you have to spiral up the hillside along with tuk, tuks, buses, lorries and all the other traffic which is belching out its exhaust. it is rather like a vortex sucking the pollution into its centre, which is a shame because up at the top, the city is quite beautiful, there is a temple with a golden roof by a lovely lake ( which has some macabre tale of chopped up bodies thrown in it) and the feel of a city in the sky- if it wasn't so polluted.
Nevertheless, I was glad we had made a detour in order to visit the place and also because we saw the stadium where Tehani and Tiasha had competed when they were at school. One was an excellent runner and the other a very good swimmer.
As we drove on Tania began to describe the plants and trees to me. We passed plantations of cocoa and pepper. The pepper vines often curling round the trees in the foreground. We saw paddy fields that were still being harvested and swathes of rice growing. There were ebony trees and more teak and roadsides where the shops were selling wooden furniture beautifully carved. There was coffee growing which was the principle beverage in Sri Lanka before the tea plantations were established in the late 18th, early 19th century.
As the roads climbed higher the air was becoming pleasanter and cooler and I felt that, at last, I was no longer under seige to the heat, although the car was air conditioned, it could still be very hot for me, at least.
Tomorrow, I will describe the plantations and my visit to the Faitrade tea factory.
Sunday, 9 October 2011
Saturday, 8 October 2011
In my end is my beginning.
Yesterday, I described the post enlightenment statue of the Buddha. Today, I want to talk about the final statue at Gal Vahara; that of the Buddha in his death. I had been attracted to the photograph of this huge statue in Merton's Asian Journal and somehow I knew this would be the statue that held the most significant message for me. I was not disappointed. However, there were some difficulties. Not only was it very difficult to find a shady spot in which to stand before this giant figure but next to me stood a guide and a tourist couple. He was busy describing the ins and outs of the statue in Sinhala or Tamil while I was trying to listen below the words in my head to what the figure was conveying to me. Eventually I manged to sink below the words and to gaze upon the beauty of the recumbent Buddha. Here is how Thomas Merton describes the experience:
"Looking at these figures I was suddenly, almost forcibly, jerked clean out of the habitual, half-tied vision of things, and, an inner clearness, clarity, as if exploding from the rocks themselves, became evident and obvious...The thing about all this is that there is no puzzle, no problem, and really no "mystery." All problems are resolved and everything is clear, simply because what matters is clear."
For me, the experience was like coming home. I knew that here was a place that would be so familiar to me that I would not fear its coming. It was a place of great sweetness and rest. I remembered seeing a similar smile on my dead father's face, with his hands resting on his fat tummy and thinking; " oh, so you were a contemplative too!" "You had been waiting all your life for this moment"
Here is what I wrote in my diary when I came back from Pollonaruwa:
" It is impossible to describe the sweetness of this huge figure; the utter rest and peace that emanated from the form. I wanted to stand there for ever and drink and drink in the silence and the surrender. To find one's heart open but unafraid, filled with joy but striving after nothing, was maybe something of what Merton describes in his Asian Journal. Each gesture and detail in the carving contribute to that sense of rest and peacefulness- OF FULLY BECOMING. I thought to myself: "Well, if this is death, then what do I have to fear? It will be like coming home." My father used to give himself up to sleep so often that it looked in death as if he had been "practising" all his life and knew about the love of God deep within himself."
Well, the Buddha certainly seemed to know about love and joy and peace or , at least, the people who carved the statue did. Merton quotes Walpola Rahula at the Buddhist University who said:
"Those who carved those statues were not ordinary men"
As I stood gazing at the figure the tourist couple left and the old man guide began to talking to my driver. The then began to explain to me in broken English different aspects of the statue- the way that one hand rested by the Buddha's head and the other arm extended along his side; that one foot rested on top of the other with one set of toes slightly in front of the other. all these apparently had significance but I was unable to understand what. I think you could stand before those figures for a lifetime and still not discover all there was to learn. The old man then produced a chart with all the areas of significance upon the Buddha's feet and explained through the driver that all that was left of the sins in death was the imprint of the lotus. When I was led to his feet sure enough, the lotus or was it mandala was there- the essence of the Buddha?
I felt that I neeed to read more to understand, yet in another way, before such deep silence there is no need for knowledge and words
The carved stone and its natural markings flowed from life to life, from life to death to life. Every aspect of the stone- its colours,contours, markings, properties and patina had been used to convey something of the wonder and mystery of our lives.
I had been so afraid that I would be disappointed and that I would see nothing of what Merton saw when he came to Gal Vihara. However, in the end I felt that I could not have enough of standing there and learning.
I had had to cross continents and "burning coals" to come to the place and it left in my heart and inner sight an indelible impression. I can now go back in myself, again and again to revisit the joy of complete surrender in that Love which is all peace, all joy, all hope, all..
"Looking at these figures I was suddenly, almost forcibly, jerked clean out of the habitual, half-tied vision of things, and, an inner clearness, clarity, as if exploding from the rocks themselves, became evident and obvious...The thing about all this is that there is no puzzle, no problem, and really no "mystery." All problems are resolved and everything is clear, simply because what matters is clear."
For me, the experience was like coming home. I knew that here was a place that would be so familiar to me that I would not fear its coming. It was a place of great sweetness and rest. I remembered seeing a similar smile on my dead father's face, with his hands resting on his fat tummy and thinking; " oh, so you were a contemplative too!" "You had been waiting all your life for this moment"
Here is what I wrote in my diary when I came back from Pollonaruwa:
" It is impossible to describe the sweetness of this huge figure; the utter rest and peace that emanated from the form. I wanted to stand there for ever and drink and drink in the silence and the surrender. To find one's heart open but unafraid, filled with joy but striving after nothing, was maybe something of what Merton describes in his Asian Journal. Each gesture and detail in the carving contribute to that sense of rest and peacefulness- OF FULLY BECOMING. I thought to myself: "Well, if this is death, then what do I have to fear? It will be like coming home." My father used to give himself up to sleep so often that it looked in death as if he had been "practising" all his life and knew about the love of God deep within himself."
Well, the Buddha certainly seemed to know about love and joy and peace or , at least, the people who carved the statue did. Merton quotes Walpola Rahula at the Buddhist University who said:
"Those who carved those statues were not ordinary men"
As I stood gazing at the figure the tourist couple left and the old man guide began to talking to my driver. The then began to explain to me in broken English different aspects of the statue- the way that one hand rested by the Buddha's head and the other arm extended along his side; that one foot rested on top of the other with one set of toes slightly in front of the other. all these apparently had significance but I was unable to understand what. I think you could stand before those figures for a lifetime and still not discover all there was to learn. The old man then produced a chart with all the areas of significance upon the Buddha's feet and explained through the driver that all that was left of the sins in death was the imprint of the lotus. When I was led to his feet sure enough, the lotus or was it mandala was there- the essence of the Buddha?
I felt that I neeed to read more to understand, yet in another way, before such deep silence there is no need for knowledge and words
The carved stone and its natural markings flowed from life to life, from life to death to life. Every aspect of the stone- its colours,contours, markings, properties and patina had been used to convey something of the wonder and mystery of our lives.
I had been so afraid that I would be disappointed and that I would see nothing of what Merton saw when he came to Gal Vihara. However, in the end I felt that I could not have enough of standing there and learning.
I had had to cross continents and "burning coals" to come to the place and it left in my heart and inner sight an indelible impression. I can now go back in myself, again and again to revisit the joy of complete surrender in that Love which is all peace, all joy, all hope, all..
Friday, 7 October 2011
The glory of God is a human fully alive
You may have been forgiven for expecting some profound words about enlightenment after the final words of my last blog. I am afraid you will have to be disappointed because I don't think I even know what enlightenment is let alone how to achieve it. Nor do I think I would know that I had achieved it if I had!
However, after racing across the burning sand once more, I passed the small seated Buddha in a cave and came to the large majestic statue of the Buddha, post enlightenment- "the Buddha after maturity" was how my driver described him. I the guide I had, it said that this was the Buddha, two years after enlightenment. Merton mistakenly assumed this statue to be Ananda, the Buddha's favourite pupil. But whoever the statue is it is first and foremost portraying a human in possession of the contentment of being able to be free from grasping desire. He stands relaxed and tall with his arms and hands folded across his chest. There is no reaching out in desire and longing. But the wonderful thing for me was that although the flow of the contours on the stone and the carving on the statue were just as exquisitely beautiful, there were visible signs of decay on this figure. The nostrils had cobwebs or some other detritis in them; there a crack or chip in the stone near the chest and the long drape of stone which was the Buddha's robe had to be supported by iron rods (to stop it collapsing, I suppose). There were other signs of decay too and this filled me with delight because they conveyed to me the sense that here was a man who was already feeling the effects of physical deterioration which would lead eventually to the death of his body while AT THE SAME TIME finding release and peace within his spirit/soul.
Tomorrow, I will describe the last recumbent statue which filled me with such joy that I found it hard to leave its contemplation and cried all the way back to the car.
However, after racing across the burning sand once more, I passed the small seated Buddha in a cave and came to the large majestic statue of the Buddha, post enlightenment- "the Buddha after maturity" was how my driver described him. I the guide I had, it said that this was the Buddha, two years after enlightenment. Merton mistakenly assumed this statue to be Ananda, the Buddha's favourite pupil. But whoever the statue is it is first and foremost portraying a human in possession of the contentment of being able to be free from grasping desire. He stands relaxed and tall with his arms and hands folded across his chest. There is no reaching out in desire and longing. But the wonderful thing for me was that although the flow of the contours on the stone and the carving on the statue were just as exquisitely beautiful, there were visible signs of decay on this figure. The nostrils had cobwebs or some other detritis in them; there a crack or chip in the stone near the chest and the long drape of stone which was the Buddha's robe had to be supported by iron rods (to stop it collapsing, I suppose). There were other signs of decay too and this filled me with delight because they conveyed to me the sense that here was a man who was already feeling the effects of physical deterioration which would lead eventually to the death of his body while AT THE SAME TIME finding release and peace within his spirit/soul.
Tomorrow, I will describe the last recumbent statue which filled me with such joy that I found it hard to leave its contemplation and cried all the way back to the car.
Walking across burning coals to Love, life and peace
Here we are at Pollonurawa. The sun is beating down and the car stereo is blasting out; " jingle bells, jingle bells..!" I had forgotten to mention that one interesting feature of my pilgrimage to Sri Lanka was that most of the cars that I travelled in were tuned to Classic Gold on their car radio. This meant that the interesting sights of this wonderful country were inevitably accompanied by the pop music of the fifties and sixties. To my delight I reailsed that I knew most of the words to the songs and remembered that such tunes had been the background theme music to my chilhood where either the radio or the television was playing all the time.
However, since I returned the awful strains of " tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree" seem to play over and over in my head. This is serious brainwashing and my only hope is that some catchy dirge from Hymns A&M might replace it!
Fortunately for me, Tania had grown tired of classic Gold when we visited Pollonaruwa, so she asked the driver to put on a CD and he chose a Christmas compilation! We drove up to the first temple complex to the sounds of "Silent Night", and now here we were: " dashing through the snow on a one horse open sleigh" while it was 32 degrees centigrade outside the car.
The other factor to my exploration which was disconcerting was that when I tried to take a photograph at the first temple complex, my camera did not work and I realised it had flat batteries. I also realised that for the first time on the holiday I had not brought any spares with me. I was disappointed at first but then thought that maybe it was a good thing because instead of looking through a camera lense at the wonderful statues, I could look with " the eyes of my heart".
I was now set only going straight to Gal Vihara where Thomas Merton had stood. My hostess asked if I would like to go here or there because Pollonaruwa is a vast, ruined complex from the third century AD with many stupas and public buildings. Its development coincided with the construction of the Minneriya tank that I talked about in a previous blog which led to an increase in wealth through agriculture. The whole site is a showpiece of Sinhalese culture whose vast ground plan and artefacts are portrayed very clearly in the good (ac'd!), modern musuem, nearby, which we visited afterwards.
Ad so we drove to an avenue of trees and a large empty lake to where the vast statues could be seen dominating a rock face in the distance. The layout has changed since Thomas Merton visited this place in the sixties. There are now two vast metal canopies over the statues and there are altars before them. I am not sure whether the canopies are there to protect the statues or the humans from the sun. In the case of the latter, they did not succeed. I had to leave my shoes some distance from the area where the statues are now cordoned off. It was agony walking across the burning sand and I could find only a tiny sliver of shade, pressed hard against the altar where I could be comfortable enough to gaze on the first statue. I thought about how rash lovers might say to their beloved: " I would walk across burning coals to you" and wondering if they knew what that really meant.
I looked up at the seated Buddha before me and was immediately struck by the rich sensuality of the statue's face. The delicate flare of the nostrils, the beauty of the heavy lidded eyes, gently and lightly closed, the sensuous lips of the closed mouth and the ears, open and long. It was as if its creator had tried to convey the fullness of each sense through its organ on the face. It seemed to me that each sense was fully occupied in becoming itself but also flowing into the energy centre. I know little about Chakras but I know they have an important role to pay in spirituality because they make it embodied and grounded. As an incarnational faith, it seems to me that Christianity does not pay enough attention to our body. Thomas Merton says on p.91 of his Asian Journal:
" ..the sixth point above the mandala's five points. The mandala is constructed only to be dissolved... No six without the five. The six make "eternal life." Note that when the body is regarded as a mandala, the five chakras ( sex, navel, heart, throat, head) are completed by the sixth "above the head".
It was clear that this statue was made to show the energy flow from each of the chakras. even the pattern on the stone flowed too, in a gracious rhythm down the seated Buddha to his lap. The Kundalini energy centre at the base of the spine, the coiled serpent of sexuaity, was covered by the Buddha's hands and folded legs. Here was the pace where all sensuality was offered and all eroticism given up in love through the long slow process of surrender through meditation.
Looking at this wonderful, beautiful statue of the young Buddha, brimming over with life and desire taught me much about the early strivings of prayer. It showed me how we are constantly trying to tame our wayward senses and desires, erroneously and that perhaps the answer is to allow them to be who they are but channelled into the pursuit of compassionate love- into the very heart of the source of all love. What we Christians would call the Sacred Heart, or the heart of God.
Here, before me, was a man, the Buddha, striving to live in that silent conversation between the Beloved One and its beloved ( To paraphrase Una's Way of Love). All his sensuality was being poured into the place of divine compassion and joy.
I find that recalling this moment has taken far more of me than I anticipated and so I will have to wait until later to write about the other statues in Gal Vahara. However, I think this is a good place to pause before we move on to enlightenment..
However, since I returned the awful strains of " tie a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree" seem to play over and over in my head. This is serious brainwashing and my only hope is that some catchy dirge from Hymns A&M might replace it!
Fortunately for me, Tania had grown tired of classic Gold when we visited Pollonaruwa, so she asked the driver to put on a CD and he chose a Christmas compilation! We drove up to the first temple complex to the sounds of "Silent Night", and now here we were: " dashing through the snow on a one horse open sleigh" while it was 32 degrees centigrade outside the car.
The other factor to my exploration which was disconcerting was that when I tried to take a photograph at the first temple complex, my camera did not work and I realised it had flat batteries. I also realised that for the first time on the holiday I had not brought any spares with me. I was disappointed at first but then thought that maybe it was a good thing because instead of looking through a camera lense at the wonderful statues, I could look with " the eyes of my heart".
I was now set only going straight to Gal Vihara where Thomas Merton had stood. My hostess asked if I would like to go here or there because Pollonaruwa is a vast, ruined complex from the third century AD with many stupas and public buildings. Its development coincided with the construction of the Minneriya tank that I talked about in a previous blog which led to an increase in wealth through agriculture. The whole site is a showpiece of Sinhalese culture whose vast ground plan and artefacts are portrayed very clearly in the good (ac'd!), modern musuem, nearby, which we visited afterwards.
Ad so we drove to an avenue of trees and a large empty lake to where the vast statues could be seen dominating a rock face in the distance. The layout has changed since Thomas Merton visited this place in the sixties. There are now two vast metal canopies over the statues and there are altars before them. I am not sure whether the canopies are there to protect the statues or the humans from the sun. In the case of the latter, they did not succeed. I had to leave my shoes some distance from the area where the statues are now cordoned off. It was agony walking across the burning sand and I could find only a tiny sliver of shade, pressed hard against the altar where I could be comfortable enough to gaze on the first statue. I thought about how rash lovers might say to their beloved: " I would walk across burning coals to you" and wondering if they knew what that really meant.
I looked up at the seated Buddha before me and was immediately struck by the rich sensuality of the statue's face. The delicate flare of the nostrils, the beauty of the heavy lidded eyes, gently and lightly closed, the sensuous lips of the closed mouth and the ears, open and long. It was as if its creator had tried to convey the fullness of each sense through its organ on the face. It seemed to me that each sense was fully occupied in becoming itself but also flowing into the energy centre. I know little about Chakras but I know they have an important role to pay in spirituality because they make it embodied and grounded. As an incarnational faith, it seems to me that Christianity does not pay enough attention to our body. Thomas Merton says on p.91 of his Asian Journal:
" ..the sixth point above the mandala's five points. The mandala is constructed only to be dissolved... No six without the five. The six make "eternal life." Note that when the body is regarded as a mandala, the five chakras ( sex, navel, heart, throat, head) are completed by the sixth "above the head".
It was clear that this statue was made to show the energy flow from each of the chakras. even the pattern on the stone flowed too, in a gracious rhythm down the seated Buddha to his lap. The Kundalini energy centre at the base of the spine, the coiled serpent of sexuaity, was covered by the Buddha's hands and folded legs. Here was the pace where all sensuality was offered and all eroticism given up in love through the long slow process of surrender through meditation.
Looking at this wonderful, beautiful statue of the young Buddha, brimming over with life and desire taught me much about the early strivings of prayer. It showed me how we are constantly trying to tame our wayward senses and desires, erroneously and that perhaps the answer is to allow them to be who they are but channelled into the pursuit of compassionate love- into the very heart of the source of all love. What we Christians would call the Sacred Heart, or the heart of God.
Here, before me, was a man, the Buddha, striving to live in that silent conversation between the Beloved One and its beloved ( To paraphrase Una's Way of Love). All his sensuality was being poured into the place of divine compassion and joy.
I find that recalling this moment has taken far more of me than I anticipated and so I will have to wait until later to write about the other statues in Gal Vahara. However, I think this is a good place to pause before we move on to enlightenment..
Thursday, 6 October 2011
The end of the road and the beginning
Today is October 7th and it is one week since I went to Pollonaruwa. I returned to the UK from Sri Lanka the day before yesterday and , although many more exciting things happened while I was there ( which I hope to recount later), Pollonaruwa was the end of the quest as far as following in Merton's footsteps were concerned. And yet, the experience instigated a new beginning for me in the light of what I learned there. I shall try and share some of that experience with you now.
I had hoped that we might leave early to go to Pollonaruwa but, alas, we did not leave until after lunch when the sun was climbing to its hottest. By the time we got to Pollonaruwa itself it was 2pm. We had had rather fraught altercations with gates men and officials who sent us to one place and then another and who tried to get us to take a tourist guide with us - which was the very last thing I wanted! Unfortunately, in Sri Lanka there 20,000,000 people all of whom need to find money to live on, whatever way they can, and a white person looks like a meal ticket to many of them.
Eventually, after wrangling, we managed to persuade them that our driver was to be my guide and no he did not need a permit because he was not trying to be an official guide. What I would have done without Tania's wit and determination, I don't know.
We drove first to the ancient temple complex where there were a series of different kinds of temple in various stages of decay. It was rather like a theme park of ruined temples. The driver and myself walked over a trough which used to house water to wash worshipper's feet and then up a series of steps to the complex itself. The sun was very hot and when we removed our shoes and hats, the heat was scorching. I had to run on tip toes as fast as I could into any any patch of shade before the soles of my feet were burned. I must have been a very amusing sight.
The first temple that we entered reminded me very much of a medieval, ruined monastery. The figure of the Buddha and his two attendants had been badly damaged. The stone Buddha had lost his face yet still there was a feeling that this was a place where "prayer had been valid", There was a great sense of openness and deep silence and it was not hard for me to feel at peace and at one with love at the heart of all things there.
We explored some of the other ruined temples including a round one which had a Buddha stationed at north, south, east, and west. I liked this circular arrangement but could not stay long because my feet were burning.
We then went inside a darkened chamber where an elderly man held a candle to show how the stone of the Buddha sparkled in the candlelight because it was made of silica. I did not find this impressive but the great domed brick ceiling which was overhead, lit from an opening at the the side at the top, felt a very powerful symbol of lifted desire and surrender into space, openness and emptiness.
The final temple was shaped in the style of Thai temples but by that time my feet were sore and I was anxious to go on and visit the giant statues of the Buddha that Merton describes in his Asian journal
.I shall describe this in tomorrow's blog.....
I had hoped that we might leave early to go to Pollonaruwa but, alas, we did not leave until after lunch when the sun was climbing to its hottest. By the time we got to Pollonaruwa itself it was 2pm. We had had rather fraught altercations with gates men and officials who sent us to one place and then another and who tried to get us to take a tourist guide with us - which was the very last thing I wanted! Unfortunately, in Sri Lanka there 20,000,000 people all of whom need to find money to live on, whatever way they can, and a white person looks like a meal ticket to many of them.
Eventually, after wrangling, we managed to persuade them that our driver was to be my guide and no he did not need a permit because he was not trying to be an official guide. What I would have done without Tania's wit and determination, I don't know.
We drove first to the ancient temple complex where there were a series of different kinds of temple in various stages of decay. It was rather like a theme park of ruined temples. The driver and myself walked over a trough which used to house water to wash worshipper's feet and then up a series of steps to the complex itself. The sun was very hot and when we removed our shoes and hats, the heat was scorching. I had to run on tip toes as fast as I could into any any patch of shade before the soles of my feet were burned. I must have been a very amusing sight.
The first temple that we entered reminded me very much of a medieval, ruined monastery. The figure of the Buddha and his two attendants had been badly damaged. The stone Buddha had lost his face yet still there was a feeling that this was a place where "prayer had been valid", There was a great sense of openness and deep silence and it was not hard for me to feel at peace and at one with love at the heart of all things there.
We explored some of the other ruined temples including a round one which had a Buddha stationed at north, south, east, and west. I liked this circular arrangement but could not stay long because my feet were burning.
We then went inside a darkened chamber where an elderly man held a candle to show how the stone of the Buddha sparkled in the candlelight because it was made of silica. I did not find this impressive but the great domed brick ceiling which was overhead, lit from an opening at the the side at the top, felt a very powerful symbol of lifted desire and surrender into space, openness and emptiness.
The final temple was shaped in the style of Thai temples but by that time my feet were sore and I was anxious to go on and visit the giant statues of the Buddha that Merton describes in his Asian journal
.I shall describe this in tomorrow's blog.....
Monday, 3 October 2011
Animals galore!
I discovered that the bright green drink was made of guava and neli. I have had some Neli juice since in Colombo and it is very good.
The Story of Sigirya is a fascinating one and it is full of betrayal and bloodshed like many historical stories. In 5th century AD the two brothers of King Dhatusena were in disagreement as to whom should be the rightful heir ( sounds familiar?). On hearing his brother, Mogallana, declared rightful heir, Kassapa drove him out of the country into exile in India and imprisoned his dad. In fact, in the end, he had his father walled up in a chamber and left to die.
Meanwhile, to protect himself against his brother's return, Kassapa built his home- a pleasure palace and fortress on top of the 200 m high rock at Sigirya.. Alas, only six years after its completion, Mogallana came to gain recompense and the upshot was that Kassala's elephant bolted and the naughty prince finding himself cornered, killed himself.
We were much luckier with our elephants because the day after we arrived, on the Wednesday, we set off to see elephants at Minneriya National Park. The reason that it was possible to see elephants in abundance there was because there had been no rain since April and so the elephants have to leave the forest in the evening to come and drink at the Minneriya Tank. Tanks are an ancient method of irrigation which was developed as far back the third century BC but it was later successive kings who built huge man made lakes to store the monsoon rains for irrigation from about 3rd century AD onwards.
I could hardly contain my excitement as we sped in a jeep through dense forest towards the empty plain of the dried up tank- at this time of the year the lake has shrunk considerably so one is able to bounce over many miles of flat plain where the water had once been. On the way we treated to all sorts of sights- a small deer came out of the forest, we saw numerous beautiful birds, a mongoose was sighted, monitor lizards climbed slowly up the banks of a dried river bed while numerous beautiful peacocks strutted about in its floor. We saw the nest of a weaver bird and also of hornets. I was told that 7 hornet stings are equivalent to one cobra bite! There were two kinds of monkeys in abundance who did not bother us but were very happy to be photographed.
When we eventually drove out into the plain, the first group of elephants with their young came into view. It was so wonderful to watch them ambling along, kicking up the dust as they tried to feed off the sparse grass and vegetation. From then on we bumped along and I stood up in the jeep to see groups of elephants here and there. There was one rather excited Bull who became very aroused at the sight of a group of females and another bull who sauntered over and chatted up a few cows by curling his trunk around theirs.
Perhaps the best sighting was of a group of elephants by the water's edge. One tiny baby elephant was no more than three or four days old and kept itself always under its mother as she walked along.
The sun was setting and the world looked so utterly beautiful, I could not help crying with joy. then we saw a golden jackal, slinking off into the sunset and decided it was time to head home. On the way, however, we saw water buffalo soaking themselves in the water and one with a calf by the lakeside. As we bounded back along the forest path, a wild boar dashed into the forest and as dusk drew nightjars flew in front of us.
It was such a wonderful experience to see so much wildlife roaming free. That night, back at the hotel, we heard gunshots several times because the elephants had decided to wander rather too close to the hotel complex and had to be frightened off. Apparently there is one cow who charges the jeeps because her calf was killed by a jeep. I am glad I found that out after we had been to see them!
The Story of Sigirya is a fascinating one and it is full of betrayal and bloodshed like many historical stories. In 5th century AD the two brothers of King Dhatusena were in disagreement as to whom should be the rightful heir ( sounds familiar?). On hearing his brother, Mogallana, declared rightful heir, Kassapa drove him out of the country into exile in India and imprisoned his dad. In fact, in the end, he had his father walled up in a chamber and left to die.
Meanwhile, to protect himself against his brother's return, Kassapa built his home- a pleasure palace and fortress on top of the 200 m high rock at Sigirya.. Alas, only six years after its completion, Mogallana came to gain recompense and the upshot was that Kassala's elephant bolted and the naughty prince finding himself cornered, killed himself.
We were much luckier with our elephants because the day after we arrived, on the Wednesday, we set off to see elephants at Minneriya National Park. The reason that it was possible to see elephants in abundance there was because there had been no rain since April and so the elephants have to leave the forest in the evening to come and drink at the Minneriya Tank. Tanks are an ancient method of irrigation which was developed as far back the third century BC but it was later successive kings who built huge man made lakes to store the monsoon rains for irrigation from about 3rd century AD onwards.
I could hardly contain my excitement as we sped in a jeep through dense forest towards the empty plain of the dried up tank- at this time of the year the lake has shrunk considerably so one is able to bounce over many miles of flat plain where the water had once been. On the way we treated to all sorts of sights- a small deer came out of the forest, we saw numerous beautiful birds, a mongoose was sighted, monitor lizards climbed slowly up the banks of a dried river bed while numerous beautiful peacocks strutted about in its floor. We saw the nest of a weaver bird and also of hornets. I was told that 7 hornet stings are equivalent to one cobra bite! There were two kinds of monkeys in abundance who did not bother us but were very happy to be photographed.
When we eventually drove out into the plain, the first group of elephants with their young came into view. It was so wonderful to watch them ambling along, kicking up the dust as they tried to feed off the sparse grass and vegetation. From then on we bumped along and I stood up in the jeep to see groups of elephants here and there. There was one rather excited Bull who became very aroused at the sight of a group of females and another bull who sauntered over and chatted up a few cows by curling his trunk around theirs.
Perhaps the best sighting was of a group of elephants by the water's edge. One tiny baby elephant was no more than three or four days old and kept itself always under its mother as she walked along.
The sun was setting and the world looked so utterly beautiful, I could not help crying with joy. then we saw a golden jackal, slinking off into the sunset and decided it was time to head home. On the way, however, we saw water buffalo soaking themselves in the water and one with a calf by the lakeside. As we bounded back along the forest path, a wild boar dashed into the forest and as dusk drew nightjars flew in front of us.
It was such a wonderful experience to see so much wildlife roaming free. That night, back at the hotel, we heard gunshots several times because the elephants had decided to wander rather too close to the hotel complex and had to be frightened off. Apparently there is one cow who charges the jeeps because her calf was killed by a jeep. I am glad I found that out after we had been to see them!
Saturday, 1 October 2011
Arriving at Sigirya
When, at last, we arrived at Sigirya, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the place. We had been travelling up what seemed like endless tracks through dense tropical forest. We had moved away from bustling, traffic polluted cities and straggling roadside towns to country villages with fewer people and many beautiful flora. I had been shown ebony trees, dark and tall, coconut plantations with teak trees growing at their edge, there were bougainvilleas, hibiscus and canna lilies in profusion, banana plants (although, most of the bananas seemed to be hanging from stalls along the way and not on the plants!) Then there were the paddy fields. Most of the rice harvest was over, but further up country there were still some places where it was being cut. We saw workers in the field cutting with scythes and the bright, veridian swathes of the uncut rice. I saw a huge, ethereal statue of the Buddha, high up on a hillside next to a mobile phone mast! I had also, much to my surprise, looked out of the window as the road crossed a muddy river and seen a largish crocodile lurking in the water.
Finally, the bumpy track opened out into a village which was obviously designed to serve local tourists with craft shops and a chained elephant waiting to give rides. I was excited to see my first Asian elephant but sad to see him chained so. My hostess asked me if I would like a ride but I said I had come to see wild elephants not captive ones. There had been signs of elephants as we came through the forest, so I was hopeful that we would see some eventually. When the Sigirya Village complex came into sight, i knew we were in for another luxurious stay. the hotel was a series of "jungle" chalets set in beautiful gardens filled with all kinds of plants and trees surrounding an open central pavilion which housed the restaurant, reception and changing rooms for the swimming pool. We were welcomed with frangipani flowers, perfumed faace cloths to wipe away the dust of the road and a lovely, cooling, bright green drink which tasted of unfizzy cream soda! When we asked we were told that it was made from a Sri Lankan fruit with a name that i could not catch. To top all this the great fortress of Sigirya on top of its huge rock towered over the complex. The story of Sigirya rock is worth repeating but that will have to wait until tomorrow's post.
Finally, the bumpy track opened out into a village which was obviously designed to serve local tourists with craft shops and a chained elephant waiting to give rides. I was excited to see my first Asian elephant but sad to see him chained so. My hostess asked me if I would like a ride but I said I had come to see wild elephants not captive ones. There had been signs of elephants as we came through the forest, so I was hopeful that we would see some eventually. When the Sigirya Village complex came into sight, i knew we were in for another luxurious stay. the hotel was a series of "jungle" chalets set in beautiful gardens filled with all kinds of plants and trees surrounding an open central pavilion which housed the restaurant, reception and changing rooms for the swimming pool. We were welcomed with frangipani flowers, perfumed faace cloths to wipe away the dust of the road and a lovely, cooling, bright green drink which tasted of unfizzy cream soda! When we asked we were told that it was made from a Sri Lankan fruit with a name that i could not catch. To top all this the great fortress of Sigirya on top of its huge rock towered over the complex. The story of Sigirya rock is worth repeating but that will have to wait until tomorrow's post.
From Colombo to Dambulla
On Tuesday we were up at first light ( which is about 5.30 am, here) to make the journey from Colombo up to Siguria.This was to be another bone jerkingly protracted drive along very crowded roads because, as yet, Sri Lanka does not have any equivalent of a motorway. We did not have the family's usual driver but a security guard who worked for my host whose driving skills were not as accomplished as the usual diver so the trip was definitely of the extreme stoccatto kind. He had other attributes however, which proved invaluable later on.
we had a cup of tea before we left but after several hours we stopped for breakfast at a very smart cafe called:
Wahalkada
When I walked inside knew that my time of reckoning had come because there were pots of curry on offer for breakfast> "Bite the bullet, Elaine", I thought, because up until then I had avoided the bowls of curry for breakfast thinking that my digestive system would not stand it. I chose some milk rice because I know that I like it, with very small amounts of dahl and potato curry and coconut roti. I can't say that I will ever get accustomed to eating curry for breakfast but I have learned to enjoy eating it.
After another protracted drive, we stopped at Dambulla. Here, there is a huge golden statue of the Buddha facing the road, a Buddhist televison station and a quantity of plaster Buddhist monk statues and many pilgrims including a very large group of shaven buddhist nuns. Above all this is a climb to a cave with a large number of statues of the Buddha and also frescoes inside. Merton mentions this in his Asian Journal on p.231:
"The caves are dark....The guide is not interested in the frescoes which are good, only in the rank of Buddhas which are not good."
On the strength of this, I decided not to make the steep climb in the searing heat up to the cave but i climbed with our driver, who is a Buddhist, up to the huge golden Buddha. He showed me that I must remove my shoes and hat because it is a holy place and I stood there with the frangipani flower offerings before the Buddha, making my own offering of myself to the vast open sky, baking heat and the quiet reflection of the Buddha for the journey to Pollonuwara which lay ahead of us.
we had a cup of tea before we left but after several hours we stopped for breakfast at a very smart cafe called:
Wahalkada
When I walked inside knew that my time of reckoning had come because there were pots of curry on offer for breakfast> "Bite the bullet, Elaine", I thought, because up until then I had avoided the bowls of curry for breakfast thinking that my digestive system would not stand it. I chose some milk rice because I know that I like it, with very small amounts of dahl and potato curry and coconut roti. I can't say that I will ever get accustomed to eating curry for breakfast but I have learned to enjoy eating it.
After another protracted drive, we stopped at Dambulla. Here, there is a huge golden statue of the Buddha facing the road, a Buddhist televison station and a quantity of plaster Buddhist monk statues and many pilgrims including a very large group of shaven buddhist nuns. Above all this is a climb to a cave with a large number of statues of the Buddha and also frescoes inside. Merton mentions this in his Asian Journal on p.231:
"The caves are dark....The guide is not interested in the frescoes which are good, only in the rank of Buddhas which are not good."
Friday, 30 September 2011
Lazing on a sunny afternoon
I can see how people get used to a life with servants but nothing could get me used to the punishment that travelling on Sri Lankan roads brings. You arrive at a destination feeling as though you have been pummeled by a boxer and shaken up and down like a rattle. It took me much of Monday to recover from our trip and I was so grateful to Stephen for pointing out to me before I went that I would need recovery time from expeditions.
However, I knew that the following day there was going to be an even bigger expedition so I needed to wash clothes and prepare for what lay head both physically and mentally. While my hostess went out shopping, I stayed at home to do just that. I only ventured out in the later afternoon with Tania to buy some postcards and a birthday card for my host whose birthday was the following day of our departure. She has been very vigilant about not letting me go out alone and I am grateful to her for such care but it means I have had little chance to see Sri lanka except from this cocoon. Although, you cannot miss the reality of the place, even if you don't directly engage with it because its all around you!
In the afternoon, I took up the sketch I had begun of some plants and a water pot in the garden, here. I hope to turn it into a painting when I return. I also re read some of Thomas Merton's Asian journal to give me some idea of his search. I know I have my own agenda for this pilgrimage and I am finding a lot of what I have been looking for. This house has a wonderful silence when you are left to yourself. We live next door to a Buddhist old people's home and the days is punctuated by bells which indicate time for their meals etc. Its like being back at Mirfield and finding one's day structured round the monastic life. I was determined when I came here to be as open as I could. I told myself that I would not try to force or arrange anything for myself and that I would accept what was happening of the flow and rhythm around me. I have found this enormously gratifying and found that. there is now need to struggle but to see what the next moment brings. Of course, here, I am in unrealistic circumstances. I don't have to take responsibility for the next meal or for clearing up. Yet, if I was on retreat at home his would be the case so I am seeing this visit as a kind of retreat/pilgrimage in which to listen and learn and hopefully to take some of what I have learned back into everyday life with me.
However, I knew that the following day there was going to be an even bigger expedition so I needed to wash clothes and prepare for what lay head both physically and mentally. While my hostess went out shopping, I stayed at home to do just that. I only ventured out in the later afternoon with Tania to buy some postcards and a birthday card for my host whose birthday was the following day of our departure. She has been very vigilant about not letting me go out alone and I am grateful to her for such care but it means I have had little chance to see Sri lanka except from this cocoon. Although, you cannot miss the reality of the place, even if you don't directly engage with it because its all around you!
In the afternoon, I took up the sketch I had begun of some plants and a water pot in the garden, here. I hope to turn it into a painting when I return. I also re read some of Thomas Merton's Asian journal to give me some idea of his search. I know I have my own agenda for this pilgrimage and I am finding a lot of what I have been looking for. This house has a wonderful silence when you are left to yourself. We live next door to a Buddhist old people's home and the days is punctuated by bells which indicate time for their meals etc. Its like being back at Mirfield and finding one's day structured round the monastic life. I was determined when I came here to be as open as I could. I told myself that I would not try to force or arrange anything for myself and that I would accept what was happening of the flow and rhythm around me. I have found this enormously gratifying and found that. there is now need to struggle but to see what the next moment brings. Of course, here, I am in unrealistic circumstances. I don't have to take responsibility for the next meal or for clearing up. Yet, if I was on retreat at home his would be the case so I am seeing this visit as a kind of retreat/pilgrimage in which to listen and learn and hopefully to take some of what I have learned back into everyday life with me.
Muddle and confusion
Please forgive the repetitions, hesitations and downright confusion in the last few blogs. I lost one blog in mid typing then managed to retrieve an old copy which I seem to have pasted onto new information. I hope you are not too confused! The reason for an absence of blogging for the past five days is that i have been away up country with no internet connection so I shall have to do a rapid catch up before I leave for England on Tuesday. The time has passed so quickly and I hope my memory does not fail me too much as I try to describe the wonderful experiences of the last five days.
Our time at the Lighthouse Hotel in Galle passed far too quickly and we found ourselves driving back to Colombo on the Sunday. I did manage two swims in the hotel swimming pools and a beach scavenging expedition And to eat a considerable variety of foods that were offered including hoppers and curry for breakfast!
Our time at the Lighthouse Hotel in Galle passed far too quickly and we found ourselves driving back to Colombo on the Sunday. I did manage two swims in the hotel swimming pools and a beach scavenging expedition And to eat a considerable variety of foods that were offered including hoppers and curry for breakfast!
Rebirth In Galle
Galle was the town in Sri Lanka that had the most fatalities in the 2004 tsunami. The East Coast suffered more physical devastation but the area was less populated than Galle and has had to recover more in terms of livelihood and overcoming fear of the sea. There are now sports charities which help people to learn to swim and therefore to feel more confident in the water.
However, it is easy to see that devastation has occurred in Galle in the recent past. There is an enormous amount of rebuilding going on sometimes on top of old foundations. A new bus station has replaced the old (which was under water during the tsunami) and there are now signs of new enterprise. I think that the goverment must have directed aid in this direction because the first motorway/highway has recently been constructed from Colombo to Galle. The old colonial fortress walls seems to have protected its interior town but even here there is a resurrection taking place. The town’s roads are being recobbled and refurbished and many western expats have bought up the old Dutch villas and are renovating them for the tourist market. For now, the town still has a rather down at heel but hip vibe and the cafes we looked into were delightful. The museum has seen better days (I hope!) but I rather enjoyed its peeling, crumbling, disinterested air. Such a contrast to the rather too bright and INFORMATIVE western museums who have overall themes and interaction which commands your attention. Here, some interesting objects were left to decay slowly and you could look at them if you felt like it or not!
The old dutch streets had a feel of walking in Bruges without the self conscious neatness. I found the Dutch reformed church utterly depressing with its stark table but a large pulpit with a huge canopy with its emphasis on hearing the word rather than participating in liturgy.
We wandered slowly through the baking streets, saw a man with a cobra in a basket ( much to my astonishment) and chased us with a python round his neck trying to persuade me to wear it also. No Than k-you! We bought a few reasonably priced souvenirs and were often pressed into buying outrageously expensive ones. I found that I was unable to enter into the spirit of bargaining so just refused to buy anything that I considered overpriced. We had lunch in one of the hip cafes where I enjoyed a beautiful king prawn salad and another refreshing smoothy.
We returned to our hotel with its calming view of the ocean for a well earned siesta, than popped down to a nearby beach at Unawatuna where there is naturally safe area for swimming. Tehani and her boyfriend went into the water but I just sat on the beach happily watching as families enjoyed them selves and the sun went down. I walked along the darkening beach, paddling in the incoming tide and then we sat having a coffee in one of the many beach cafe's as lights and music went on all around the bay. This beach, is now the beach party location and there was to be another Big celebration that evening. Mercifully, we returned to the hotel for supper before it got started.
Monday, 26 September 2011
This is luxury you can't afford
Where was I? Oh yes, driving up to the foyer of the Lighthouse Hotel, designed by Geoffrey Bava. An intimidating number of men dressed up in beautiful matching sarongs and white shirts, dahsed up to open the car doors and to take our luggage. Then we were taken by one man into the hotel which has a huge central spiral staircase covered with almost lifesize bronze sculptures of the battle between the conquering soldiers of Sri Lanka, their horses and their weaponry. I did not like it at all but it has to be said that it is quite remarkable and certainly makes a big impact. We were accompanied up in the luft to the first floor reception where my breath was really taken away. The room opened on to a terrace where there were set out lovely seats and tables in hardwood. These overlooked the ocean which was pounding away on massive rocks with the warm breeze floating over us. I sat on a chair by the ocean as my hostess checked in, and I gasped at the beauty and terrible might of the water as it hit the rocks and sent up torrents of spray. All around me were men and women dressed in the matching sarongs or saris which were beautiful woven shades of turquoise and orange. One man came up to me and offered a drink of iced lime soda, papaya juice or something else which i could not identify. The lime soda which I chose tasted wonderfully refreshing and I sat and sipped it, drinking in the view in front of me. Tania came and asked me if I would like to hurl myself off the rocks into the sea. I said I would but it would not be an advisable thing to do. It struck me that we talk rather glibly about the ocean of God's love and here was the reality of that ocean: wild and terrible, wonderful and strong. Yes I would love to hurl myself into it but I would perish if I did so recklessly. What does that say, I wonder?
tHE ROOMS DESIGNED BY GEOFFREY BAVA HAVE A MARVELLOUS AFINITY WITH THEir natural surroundings. The turquioise painted doors are distressed and inside the rooms were a haven of light and coolness. each room looked on to tghe sea and had huge hardwood bedheads and dark, tropical wood forniture. The bathrooms were very luxurious but not in the standard, clinical hotel way. the back of the bath was mirrored and reflected the ocean, there were cadles to light and lovely bath smellies in refillable blue pottery glasses, cinnamon and lime soap and gorgeous spicy body lotion. The sink had marble surround an there was a separate wet room where I had umpteen showers in two days jjust because i was so pleasurableto the
tHE ROOMS DESIGNED BY GEOFFREY BAVA HAVE A MARVELLOUS AFINITY WITH THEir natural surroundings. The turquioise painted doors are distressed and inside the rooms were a haven of light and coolness. each room looked on to tghe sea and had huge hardwood bedheads and dark, tropical wood forniture. The bathrooms were very luxurious but not in the standard, clinical hotel way. the back of the bath was mirrored and reflected the ocean, there were cadles to light and lovely bath smellies in refillable blue pottery glasses, cinnamon and lime soap and gorgeous spicy body lotion. The sink had marble surround an there was a separate wet room where I had umpteen showers in two days jjust because i was so pleasurableto the
Sunday, 25 September 2011
The road to Galle
The reason for no blog for two days has been that we have been staying away from Colombo in Galle. Galle is a fortress town in the south of Sri Lanka. It is believed that it may be the ancient city of Tarshish ( according to the Rough Guide and historian, James Emerson) and was on a major trade route for many ancient nations. Solomon was supposed to have picked up his supply of peacocks and ivory from here. Maybe it was the ancient world's equivalent of Ikea, or perhaps Heals?
Anyway, the town was obviously a magnet to would be conquerors and was captured by first the Portugese, then the Dutch and then the British.
The town is all inside the Garrison walls and nowadays has a charming, down at heel, colonial feel. However, all this is soon to change. Galle was the town with the most fatalities in the 2004 Tsunami. It was not so badly damaged, structurally, but due to the density of the population, many people died. Since then it seems to have attracted both money and entrepreneurial spirit. The town's bus station, which was outside the walls and covered with water has been rebuilt and the country's first highway is being built from Columbo to Galle.
It was supposed to have been finished by September but it is not ready, alas, which meant we had a three or four hour drive along the old Galle road. It was certainly an education. I had enormous respect for our driver at the end of it. How he keeps his cool on such roads I don't know. I was very glad to be sitting in the back. The tuk tuks and motor bikes come out of nowhere and cross your path but more terrifying is that because it is a single lane road everyone crosses over to the other side of the road to overtake, which they do ALL THE TIME, irrespective of what is coming in the opposite direction. The driver just beeps his horn and out he goes. Very often I looked up to see a lorry or bus coming at full pelt straight towards us. It was not for the fainthearted. One of the girl's boyfriends said that he thought Sri Lanka was bad until he went to Bangla Desh. there all cars are fitted with cow catcher bard back and front. Nobody stops if they hit you and the rickshaws which have no brakes actually stop themselves by bashing in to the back of the vehicle in front. So you are often feeling a thud, thud as the next rickshaw driver, drives into you!
The route along the Galle road was very congested nearly all the way but we had two refreshing stops. One to have a cupof tea and a hot dog ( a real hot dog, complete with slices of chilli!) and two to pick up a painting for a friend at the house of an artist in a little village off the beaten track. The house was a tiny bungalow in which some of his paintings were hanging looking very dirty and neglected and then a hut which he used for a studio. However, the man had an amazing talent. His watercolours, particulalrly, were so beautiful. He prefers to stay and paint in his village than move to Colombo and likes to paint local people going about their daily business: fishermen, craftsmen, women, monks and people of different faiths, whom he says get along quite harmoniously, together. I was completely taken by a picture of a buddhist monk walking along looking so contemplative and peaceful. I asked him how much the picture would cost, but, alas, it was outside my league, costing the equivalent of £90. However, such a picture could fetch three times that in England. I felt very sad having to leave it behind as it mouldered away on his wall.
He generously spent a lot of time showing us his pen and ink drawings of nature ( which were exquisite) and his sketch books. He also teaches art and lives alone with his ancient mother but has had several exhibitions in Colombo and elsewhere thanks to American sponsorship money.
We said goodbye and then sped on to Galle. Hot, dusty, and tired I suddenly found us driving up to the Lighthouse Hotel, one of the most famous luxury hotels in Sri Lanka and what an experience that was!
More tomorrow.......
Anyway, the town was obviously a magnet to would be conquerors and was captured by first the Portugese, then the Dutch and then the British.
The town is all inside the Garrison walls and nowadays has a charming, down at heel, colonial feel. However, all this is soon to change. Galle was the town with the most fatalities in the 2004 Tsunami. It was not so badly damaged, structurally, but due to the density of the population, many people died. Since then it seems to have attracted both money and entrepreneurial spirit. The town's bus station, which was outside the walls and covered with water has been rebuilt and the country's first highway is being built from Columbo to Galle.
It was supposed to have been finished by September but it is not ready, alas, which meant we had a three or four hour drive along the old Galle road. It was certainly an education. I had enormous respect for our driver at the end of it. How he keeps his cool on such roads I don't know. I was very glad to be sitting in the back. The tuk tuks and motor bikes come out of nowhere and cross your path but more terrifying is that because it is a single lane road everyone crosses over to the other side of the road to overtake, which they do ALL THE TIME, irrespective of what is coming in the opposite direction. The driver just beeps his horn and out he goes. Very often I looked up to see a lorry or bus coming at full pelt straight towards us. It was not for the fainthearted. One of the girl's boyfriends said that he thought Sri Lanka was bad until he went to Bangla Desh. there all cars are fitted with cow catcher bard back and front. Nobody stops if they hit you and the rickshaws which have no brakes actually stop themselves by bashing in to the back of the vehicle in front. So you are often feeling a thud, thud as the next rickshaw driver, drives into you!
The route along the Galle road was very congested nearly all the way but we had two refreshing stops. One to have a cupof tea and a hot dog ( a real hot dog, complete with slices of chilli!) and two to pick up a painting for a friend at the house of an artist in a little village off the beaten track. The house was a tiny bungalow in which some of his paintings were hanging looking very dirty and neglected and then a hut which he used for a studio. However, the man had an amazing talent. His watercolours, particulalrly, were so beautiful. He prefers to stay and paint in his village than move to Colombo and likes to paint local people going about their daily business: fishermen, craftsmen, women, monks and people of different faiths, whom he says get along quite harmoniously, together. I was completely taken by a picture of a buddhist monk walking along looking so contemplative and peaceful. I asked him how much the picture would cost, but, alas, it was outside my league, costing the equivalent of £90. However, such a picture could fetch three times that in England. I felt very sad having to leave it behind as it mouldered away on his wall.
He generously spent a lot of time showing us his pen and ink drawings of nature ( which were exquisite) and his sketch books. He also teaches art and lives alone with his ancient mother but has had several exhibitions in Colombo and elsewhere thanks to American sponsorship money.
We said goodbye and then sped on to Galle. Hot, dusty, and tired I suddenly found us driving up to the Lighthouse Hotel, one of the most famous luxury hotels in Sri Lanka and what an experience that was!
More tomorrow.......
Thursday, 22 September 2011
putting my toe in the water
Today, I ventured out into Columbo with my hostess, albeit in the sheltered comfort of an air-conditioned chauffeur driven car!
We went to the bank to change some of my travellers cheques which took an inordinately long time and required the attention of two different people and three helpers. I have noticed a good surplus of labour everywhere i go according to western standards. It took four people to sell me two greetings cards and three postcards in one shop. One to point to where I had to go, another to take the cards, one to operate the till and another to put them in a bag and hand them to me. There are door openers everywhere. This morning when I awoke I found at least five people doing the garden, including one man down on his haunches pulling out the brown bits of grass so the green could grow through! It seemed to me that this was a wonderful example of servant priesthood but try saying that to the Cof E or the Vatican! Actually, its lovely to interact with people rather than the awful machines we have to deal with in the UK even if there are an awful lot of them
Afterwards we visited two shops which sold fabric wares, one of which was more touristy and therefore more expensive. However I resisted the urge to buy everything in sight and browsed carefully for future purchases. I did buy a table cloth to fit our very long dining table but resisted the marvellous sari and sarong lengths in silk or brightly coloured woven cotton. We refreshed our selves in the cafe of the second shop in a courtyard which was decorated with all sorts of beautiful oriental artifacts and brightly coloured tablecloths with the unlikely strains of Adele belting out on the sound system.
Then I was taken to the public art gallery which had no art exhibitions on today, thank-you, so I was dropped at the National Museum and left to myself for an hour or so. This was housed in a large white painted Victorian colonial building with huge, ancient trees and the obligatory statue of a seated Buddha under a lovely tree in the surrounding gardens. ( Even the roundabouts have Buddhas on them here!)
Most of the artifacts were presented in rather ancient display cabinets but the information posters printed in Tamil, Singalese and English were plentiful. I learned about different kinds of Buddhist buildings , different hands positions in meditation. There were marvellous statues of Siva and Parvati which I loved more than the golden Buddhas and the bejewelled crown and throne of the last King of Kandy which the British seized (or stole, in other words) and then gave back later. But I think the most interesting exhibit in the museum was ME. That is what many of the children there decided, anyway. I had a constant stream of them coming up to look at this peculiar foreigner and to say "Hello" which was about all the English they could manage. I tried to converse with them by using words like "Football", "Arsenal" and "Manchester United" but to my astonishment they did not understand. I think, on reflection, I should have said "Googly" or "silly mid off" and that would have had greater impact on such a cricket crazy nation. My hostess said they were most probably children from out in the country on a school trip who would have no idea of English football teams. Anyway, I did not have to say much, just wander around looking foreign which was enough to cause much interest and some hilarity.
My hostess is worried abut me getting a curry tummy so she is serving me rather bland food. However, I cannot complain about the delicious bowls of papaya and banana we have had for breakfast or the lovely drinks of mango or papaya juice. Tomato and lettuce sandwiches with sugar in them are rather unusual but not unpleasant. Tonight, we are having spinach soup and moussaka which I love but I am hoping I will be allowed to graduate on to more Sri Lankan style curries, eventually. The rice served is red rice which is very good. It has more fibre and flavour than traditional white Basmati. Tomorrow, is our host's birthday so we will have milk rice for breakfast which is traditionally served on auspicious and happy occasions.
I am hoping to downlaod some of the first photos today so you can have some images as well as all my blurb. We'll see!
We went to the bank to change some of my travellers cheques which took an inordinately long time and required the attention of two different people and three helpers. I have noticed a good surplus of labour everywhere i go according to western standards. It took four people to sell me two greetings cards and three postcards in one shop. One to point to where I had to go, another to take the cards, one to operate the till and another to put them in a bag and hand them to me. There are door openers everywhere. This morning when I awoke I found at least five people doing the garden, including one man down on his haunches pulling out the brown bits of grass so the green could grow through! It seemed to me that this was a wonderful example of servant priesthood but try saying that to the Cof E or the Vatican! Actually, its lovely to interact with people rather than the awful machines we have to deal with in the UK even if there are an awful lot of them
Afterwards we visited two shops which sold fabric wares, one of which was more touristy and therefore more expensive. However I resisted the urge to buy everything in sight and browsed carefully for future purchases. I did buy a table cloth to fit our very long dining table but resisted the marvellous sari and sarong lengths in silk or brightly coloured woven cotton. We refreshed our selves in the cafe of the second shop in a courtyard which was decorated with all sorts of beautiful oriental artifacts and brightly coloured tablecloths with the unlikely strains of Adele belting out on the sound system.
Then I was taken to the public art gallery which had no art exhibitions on today, thank-you, so I was dropped at the National Museum and left to myself for an hour or so. This was housed in a large white painted Victorian colonial building with huge, ancient trees and the obligatory statue of a seated Buddha under a lovely tree in the surrounding gardens. ( Even the roundabouts have Buddhas on them here!)
Most of the artifacts were presented in rather ancient display cabinets but the information posters printed in Tamil, Singalese and English were plentiful. I learned about different kinds of Buddhist buildings , different hands positions in meditation. There were marvellous statues of Siva and Parvati which I loved more than the golden Buddhas and the bejewelled crown and throne of the last King of Kandy which the British seized (or stole, in other words) and then gave back later. But I think the most interesting exhibit in the museum was ME. That is what many of the children there decided, anyway. I had a constant stream of them coming up to look at this peculiar foreigner and to say "Hello" which was about all the English they could manage. I tried to converse with them by using words like "Football", "Arsenal" and "Manchester United" but to my astonishment they did not understand. I think, on reflection, I should have said "Googly" or "silly mid off" and that would have had greater impact on such a cricket crazy nation. My hostess said they were most probably children from out in the country on a school trip who would have no idea of English football teams. Anyway, I did not have to say much, just wander around looking foreign which was enough to cause much interest and some hilarity.
My hostess is worried abut me getting a curry tummy so she is serving me rather bland food. However, I cannot complain about the delicious bowls of papaya and banana we have had for breakfast or the lovely drinks of mango or papaya juice. Tomato and lettuce sandwiches with sugar in them are rather unusual but not unpleasant. Tonight, we are having spinach soup and moussaka which I love but I am hoping I will be allowed to graduate on to more Sri Lankan style curries, eventually. The rice served is red rice which is very good. It has more fibre and flavour than traditional white Basmati. Tomorrow, is our host's birthday so we will have milk rice for breakfast which is traditionally served on auspicious and happy occasions.
I am hoping to downlaod some of the first photos today so you can have some images as well as all my blurb. We'll see!
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
Arrival
Blog day 3
ARRIVAL
It seemed as if we had entered the orient as soon as I boarded the Sri Lankan airways flight in London. We were greeted by beautiful hostesses in Turquoise saris emblazoned with peacock tails design who gave us the traditional greeting with hands together and “Ayubowan”- “ may you have long life”. The plane was full of nose- tickling smells of spices and subtle perfumes. I was very fortunate to have a whole four seat row to myself, so when it was time to settle down for some sleep I could lie down and stretch out. It was pity that two, young English girls in front of me spent the night drinking heavily and talking in loud voices. Ah, the English, such good manners, we have!
The arrival in Sri Lanka was what one might imagine. The first view was of palm trees in the early morning, grey light. However, gradually the cocophony of noise and bustle increased. After some anxious moments, in arrivals my hostess rushed in a little flustered because the flight had landed nearly half an hour earlier than originally tabled. However I had told myself all would be well and had been content to wait and watch people coming and going.
A very smart four by four drew up with her driver, very slight man, who made astonishingly light work of lifting my HUGE and heavy suitcase into the back and then we made the long journey home. It was long because it was rush hour and there was a great deal of traffic and people. Picture any film of a bustling Asian city and you have the scene. Sentinel upon sentinel of smart ,traffic police blowing whistles and directing traffic in white gloves who don’t appear to make any difference to the tangled, noisy weaving of all sorts of vehicles- many, many tak taks and decorated, private buses with improbable names like “ Praise the Lord” and “ City of Verona”. There were fewer private cars but wonderful, wooden lorries, beautifully painted and decorated. Lots of children were perched on the handlebars of their father’s bicycle or scooter and appeared completely at ease in the mayhem of hooting and tooting and rushing traffic.
We passed mile after mile of seedy looking shops and buildings and bright beautiful people on their way to work or school. All the school children were immaculately turned out, the girls with shiny hair in plaits with matching coloured ribbons and white dresses. The boys in white shirts and trousers and with smooth, glossy hair. Hardly anyone looked dirty or unkempt. Even when we passed through what was described to me as a slum area, a woman in elegant sari and immaculately coifed hair climbed up from its dank and dirty depths to the road. A man in a sarong was dressing in a freshly pressed shirt from a roadside cleaners. Not a pair of ripped jeans in sight!
It is quite hard to adjust to a life with servants and to refrain from picking up plates to take to the kitchen etc. The house is beautiful and cool, simply furnished with elegant, dark furniture and cream covered sofas and rattan chairs. The garden is a delight. They based the design on a Maharajah’s garden in India and each shrub or tree looks to have been placed with care to create the maximum effect. I hope to draw some of the plants while I am here. It doesn’t look a though I will be short of leisure time. Which is wonderful!
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
Travel Day
Today is the Day. The suitcase is full to bursting and only just under the limit. I have not yet learned to travel light and so I am very unpilgrim like. "Take nothing for the journey" has not managed to impact on me yet.
However, my usual portable library has been pruned. I have been trying to do some preparatory reading beforehand. I was struck by these words which I read on Saturday on the way to an Amos Trust conference:
"Written by Geraldine Smyth, a Dominican nun in Northern Ireland, [the essay] argues that part of the point and power of what she calls 'a pilgrim journey' is to cross boundaries and to become a stranger."
This is taken from this year's ABC's Lent book:" Barefoot Disciple" by Stephen Cherry.
He goes on to describe how reconciliation is something we are engaged in all the time. Reconciliation means to be always observing or crossing boundaries of diversity and division. It is based on empathy and enables us to hear but also to own "a plurality of voices and identities"
If we take the risk of not going on a trip but a VISIT where we have to learn to develop openness, we run the risk of being with others whom we don't, and, possibly, can't understand. We can shrink back in fear and hide in our shell or we can try to be open and stay in dialogue with the other:
"Open engagement will allow us to adjust, accommodate and learn in response to realities which were previously beyond our experience."
I hope that I am travelling light enough, mentally and spiritually to do this, even if I am lugging a huge suitcase ( and computer) with me!
However, my usual portable library has been pruned. I have been trying to do some preparatory reading beforehand. I was struck by these words which I read on Saturday on the way to an Amos Trust conference:
"Written by Geraldine Smyth, a Dominican nun in Northern Ireland, [the essay] argues that part of the point and power of what she calls 'a pilgrim journey' is to cross boundaries and to become a stranger."
This is taken from this year's ABC's Lent book:" Barefoot Disciple" by Stephen Cherry.
He goes on to describe how reconciliation is something we are engaged in all the time. Reconciliation means to be always observing or crossing boundaries of diversity and division. It is based on empathy and enables us to hear but also to own "a plurality of voices and identities"
If we take the risk of not going on a trip but a VISIT where we have to learn to develop openness, we run the risk of being with others whom we don't, and, possibly, can't understand. We can shrink back in fear and hide in our shell or we can try to be open and stay in dialogue with the other:
"Open engagement will allow us to adjust, accommodate and learn in response to realities which were previously beyond our experience."
I hope that I am travelling light enough, mentally and spiritually to do this, even if I am lugging a huge suitcase ( and computer) with me!
Friday, 16 September 2011
Getting Ready For Sri Lanka
Four days to go before fly to Sri Lanka! Which is a short time ( unless you are trying to hold your breath, Stephen says) and holding my breath is what I am doing, metaphorically.
I have never travelled on an aeroplane on my own before nor have I ever been to a country with a non western culture so this will be a great learning experience for me.
Fortunately, I am staying with friends: Two lovely sisters; economics graduates who studied at UCL, and their kind parents who have made this visit possible.
However, this trip is more than a holiday. I am hoping to see something of what Thomas Merton saw when he visited the giant statues of the Buddha at Pollunaruwa shortly before his death. This is how he describes the experience in his "Asian Journal":
"Then the silence of the extraordinary faces. The great smiles. Huge and yet subtle. Filled with every possibility, questioning nothing, knowing everything, rejecting nothing......"
He goes on, but maybe it will be later to share more. For now, I prepare to go with those words in mind; open to every possibility, accepting what I find, knowing that love is all and that even discomfort, disaster and pain can lead to love. We'll see!
Please pray for me if you pray or hold me in your thoughts and hearts if you don't, which is the same, anyway.
BAck to ironing, sweing and packing!
I have never travelled on an aeroplane on my own before nor have I ever been to a country with a non western culture so this will be a great learning experience for me.
Fortunately, I am staying with friends: Two lovely sisters; economics graduates who studied at UCL, and their kind parents who have made this visit possible.
However, this trip is more than a holiday. I am hoping to see something of what Thomas Merton saw when he visited the giant statues of the Buddha at Pollunaruwa shortly before his death. This is how he describes the experience in his "Asian Journal":
"Then the silence of the extraordinary faces. The great smiles. Huge and yet subtle. Filled with every possibility, questioning nothing, knowing everything, rejecting nothing......"
He goes on, but maybe it will be later to share more. For now, I prepare to go with those words in mind; open to every possibility, accepting what I find, knowing that love is all and that even discomfort, disaster and pain can lead to love. We'll see!
Please pray for me if you pray or hold me in your thoughts and hearts if you don't, which is the same, anyway.
BAck to ironing, sweing and packing!
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