One of the first Sinhalese words I learned was “lassanai”, which means “beautiful”. It came in handy so often in Sri Lanka, (and delighted so many people when I used it) that I’ve decided it is one of the words I want to learn in every country I visit. “Tasty” (rasai) and “good” (hodai) are nice too, other than the usual “How are you?”, “How much?”, “What is your name?” and “How old are you?” questions.
Almost all of the Sinhala I learned was originally written down by my tuk-tuk driver in Colombo (the Sri Lankan Charlie Sheen). I remember watching him take great care with his handwriting and put lots of thought into the words I should know. I was thinking it was a waste of effort. I had no idea at the time that I would get so much use out of it.
After dropping the guys off at the airport, the plan was to spend one night with Nirol and his family in Gelioya, a small village near Kandy, and then the next morning take the various required buses to reach Nallathanni, where I would hike Adam’s peak. However, once I had sat down to enjoy the huge feast Nirol prepared for me that evening, he and Kumari offered for me to stay longer if I would like to participate in his family’s festivities for the Sinhalese New Year the next day. How could I refuse such an opportunity?
After my late breakfast (another ridiculously huge feast) the relatives started arriving: parents, sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews . . . All from the village or from Peradeniya (nearest town). Nirol’s parents and much of his family live just next door or down the road.
To pass the time waiting for everyone to arrive, Posindu and his cousins taught me a little gambling game where you roll a bunch of shells that have the curved part on one side or the opening on the other. If you roll and all the shells but one are the same, you win (6 facing down, one up). If all are the same, the other person wins. If neither scenario occurs, the other person rolls. Posindu won all of my coins (Sri Lankan, American, Thai, and Malay) as well as the money his father gave me to play more.
Once the family had all arrived, two of Nirol’s nieces took charge. They had organized the whole day:
For Sinhalese New Year there are lots of traditional games or “events” as they call them that are done. First, however, the Chief Guests light wicks (I was a chief guest along with the family elders).
Then we began the events. Despite the little english that the family could speak, it was fairly easy to figure out each game either because it reminded me of games I have played in the States, or they were so simple.
The first event was guessing how many seeds were in the papaya (there were about 127 I think).
Then the rest of the events were usually blind-folded or hands-tied-behind-the-back, like . . .
Draw the eye on the elephant! (Like pin the tail on the donkey!)
Race and then thread your partner’s needle:
Race while balancing the lime on the spoon that’s in your mouth, Fill the bottle with water passed in your hands down a line, Blow the balloon until it pops, Drink the juice with no hands, Musical Chairs (they let me win), Pass the Hat (they let me win), Eat the bun on the string with no hands . . .
. . . and Dance with the balloon between your heads until it falls:
Then they passed out prizes for the winners! I won a watermelon and two gold metal plates in the Buddhist symbols of the sun and moon with a rabbit.
It was kind of awkward at times, not really being able to have much conversation with most of them, but the afternoon was filled with warm smiles, laughter, hugs, and being told I was “lassanai”, and now part of their family. They went above and beyond . . . Making sure I won a game, trying to make me comfortable in the heat, having the first pick from all of the food and sweets, involving me in all of the games, making sure I got pictures of myself playing, etc.
When the time came for speeches (yes, speeches), they asked me to give one (!). It was short and incredibly simple with as much sinhala as I could insert into it. Looking around at each of them, I was once again overcome with gratitude and amazement at the beauty that we can give one another. I felt like the luckiest person in the world and at the same time I felt certain that this earth is filled with people giving just as much love to strangers and one another as I experienced that day. I got a little choked up thanking them, but quickly recovered when I said they were a “lassanai” family. It had become a big inside joke. That silly white girl always saying “lassanai”. They all laughed and gathered around me in hugs, announcing family picture time.
I ended up staying with Nirol, Kumari, and Posindu about a week or ten days in total over the rest of the month as I did various trips. Each time I left, they would pack me a lunch with sandwiches and fruit. Nirol would come with me to the bus station and speak with my driver, and then have me call him when I got on another bus so he could speak with the next driver to ensure my safely getting to the right place. He would sit with me on the bus until it was going to leave, and would get so excited if another white person traveling alone got on the bus and could sit with me. He always assumed we would become best friends.
Here is a picture of the Kandy bus terminal with Nirol in the bottom corner looking concerned:
I purchased a cheap little cell phone for about $20 (you can have two SIM cards in it!) and got a Sri Lankan SIM, so Kumari texted me every day to make sure I was okay, tell me they missed me, and would warn me about this and that and tell me to be careful. I have never felt more taken care of in my life!
I loved Nirol’s home. He’s been building it for a long time. They first started out with one bedroom, a laundry room, and the kitchen. Then they built on the family room and dining, then Posindu’s bedroom. Next they are saving for turning their laundry room into a “real” bathroom with a commode and shower inside. They have a squat toilet in a room outside and the shower, well . . . It’s pretty nice in comparison to how many other people have to bathe in that country (in rivers and streams).
I have to say that I grew to really love showering out there, though the first time was probably one of the most awkward moments of my life. Poor Kumari, trying to help me figure out how to wash myself while wearing a sarong at the same time, just made me feel even more awkward. I must’ve looked like a complete idiot, but I’m not exactly used to being watched and critiqued while bathing, nor do I know how to wash my intimates while covered . . . All in the open! I admit I rushed it, and Kumari was quite concerned that I wasn’t clean enough. *Sigh*
They must’ve caught on, because the next day they offered for me to shower in Nirol’s brother’s house, which has facilities inside. It was indeed a relief. However, Kumari came up with a genius idea the day after: “Wear swimming kit!” Yes, yes . . . My bikini! That night I stood on the rocks beneath the spout and washed my entire self thoroughly while taking little breaks to drink from a cold beer. And it was raining. And there wasn’t a (known) soul around. I was smiling the entire time.
(The only really tough part is dropping the soap into the rocks and mud . . . that's annoying. Or when it is a little cold and you have to get a tub of hot water and use that to keep warm while you wash.)
I’m sure you can imagine, the food was amazing. Nirol went out of his way to make sure that I was able to try all sorts of Sri Lankan dishes. “Rice and Curry” is the usual meal, which sounds really boring, but believe me, it isn’t. Yes, you get rice . . . And at least one kind of curry . . . And then other little dishes of vegetables and spicy and coconutty things. I had string hoppers, normal hoppers, and egg hoppers. I had Kottu (my favorite) which is cut up rotti (a bread) with vegetables and meat chopped up. You can add cheese, which is delicious. One of my favorites was jackfruit, which takes a crazy amount of preparation, but the dish Nirol made was soooo good!
I didn't take a ton of photos of the food, but here's some excellent breakfasts I had:
The juice! Ooh the juice! And the fruit! Every morning with breakfast, I would get some kind of smoothie made from a combination of papaya, mango, lime, banana, and pineapple. And I’d get coffee too, of course.
I also really liked the ice cream and even the curds w/ honey . . . Beef curds more than buffalo curds, but really they are all different tasting depending on what the animal was into beforehand, I guess. The honey is kitul honey, which comes from a tree. They also make candy from it.
Nirol also made me an avocado float (avocado shake with ice cream on top) that was delicious! Anyways, there’s too much food to discuss.
The kitchen was an interesting place! They had a small fridge, and most food was stored in little buckets under the counter. Shelves of vegetables, spices, and herbs. Baskets of fruit. There is even a grinder just for coconuts!
In the evenings, I loved spending time with Posindu. We played monopoly, made Vesak lanterns (for Vesak, Buddha’s birthday), played drums, and practiced English and Sinhala.
I even went with Nirol and Posindu to a Buddhist ceremony a few days before I left. All of the children lined up with flags, flowers, and other things, along with some drummers in costume, and everyone wore white. We walked up and down the street and gathered more people from other villages to bring back to the temple for a long set of prayers which just zoned me out, but it was fine. The funny part was when a busload of tourists were taking pictures of us through their windows. They were probably confused to see me there.
I was also able to see Posindu’s school. It’s buddhist. Nirol and I walked to pick him up one day.
Saying goodbye was incredibly difficult, but I am hoping to return while on my trip to see them again, and do more hiking in the hill country. I will be forever changed by their hospitality and goodness. The way their little family functioned in their simple life made me feel like maybe there could be a way for crazy Laura and her crazy life philosophy to be compatible with having a family. I don’t know if it could really happen, but so many things I experienced in Sri Lanka made me see the possibility and feel the desire for the first time in a long time.
That was nice.
I feel myself changing. Foundations shifting. Lassanai.
No comments:
Post a Comment