August 18, 2016
My flight was uneventful, the best kind. The trip to the
airport was harrowing. I had to close my eyes as night time rush hour is not
for the faint of heart. Rahul handled it with no problems but I realized I was
stepping on the brakes (imaginary) and leaning to one size then the other to
avoid collisions. There were no long lines at either airport. The Mumbai
airport is gorgeous. Lots of brushed
metal (stainless steel or aluminum) has been used throughout the airport very
artfully. There was shopping of course; high end designer shops as well as
Indian shops for clothing and souvenirs, many of good quality and design.
When I got to Colombo,
I got a visa on demand but had to stand in two lines, one for processing and
one to pay for the visa since I was using a credit card. I made a quick exit
since I came with one small carry on briefcase.
At this airport you can buy duty free items like large screen TVs and
refrigerators as you exit. Sure enough when I got out to the curb someone was
loading a huge refrigerator into a truck.
I was met by a hotel staff member who brought me to the
hotel on a wonderful new divided four lane toll road that replaced the narrow
two lane road that we used for years when we lived here and afterwards for
visits. That road was used by bikes, motorcycles, trishaws, cars, trucks and
buses not to mention pedestrians, cows, dogs and the occasional elephant. It
took forever on that road to get to town. I fell into bed around 5:30 or 6:00
and slept until10:30. I showered and had toast and coffee for breakfast then
went in search of an ATM and a SIM card for my phone.
I am staying at a new boutique hotel with five rooms. It has
a colonial feel and is spotless. I had trouble finding places in town so chose
this place which is about 15 minutes from town when there is no traffic and
about 30-45 minutes with traffic. The manager told me I could walk or take a
trishaw to the commercial area where I would find an ATM. Then he offered to
loan me 1000 rupees for the trishaw. On second thought he offered to have the
driver take me. I got some cash but
since my head wasn’t yet attached I forgot my phone and came back to the hotel.
I walked back to the area and couldn’t find a shop open that had SIM cards.
Today is a full moon and in Sri
Lanka which has a majority of Buddhists all
public offices and many small shops close for poya, full moon day. I grabbed a
trishaw and we rode around and found nothing open so I asked him to take me
into town. I stopped at Crescat where Mr Kularathna, my former driver, stations
himself for hotel fares. When I asked other drivers where he was, one of them
recognized me from the years I have used Mr K and told he Mr K had taken the
day off but called Mr K so I could speak with him. I arranged for him to meet
me the next day. I got more cash and found a phone card at the same place.
I had the trishaw driver take me to Geetha’s house. As I
entered the narrow lane, I started crying. They had erected a canopy across the
lane and lined each side with chairs for the mourners. There were a lot of
people there and it moved me to see how many lives Geetha had touched. When I
got to her house, her three adult daughters held onto me and we all cried. I
went inside and Geetha’s body was in the front room on a platform that
resembled a brass four poster bed covered with white satin and tons of flowers.
She was dressed in a beautiful sari and long dress gloves, something I had not
seen before at a funeral. I sat with the family while other visitors came and
went to pay their respects.
Geetha’s 18 yr old grandson was there and he speaks
excellent English. He told me that Geetha stopped eating five days before she
was hospitalized last Monday and died a week later. I made me wonder if she was
ready to go and knew it was her time for what comes next. I am making
assumptions of course but it relieved me to hear this. I had felt so badly that
I didn’t get here in time to say goodbye.
After a while I pulled two photos out of my wallet. I told
her daughters I had carried those photos with me every day for 10 years. The
photos were of me and Geetha in her kitchen on one occasion and her living room
on another. She has been giving me cooking lessons on those days. All three
daughters broke into tears and sobbing. Jacintha mentioned Geetha’s birthday in
November and that she would have turned 68. I had just sent her card when in
the US
and was told it had arrived and that they were able to cash the check I had
enclosed. I was pleased to hear it but I do not think Geetha was conscious by
the time it had arrived. When I asked what I could do for the family they said
they wanted me to continue the relationship I had with Geetha with them. I said
I fully intended to do that. I asked permission to help with the funeral
expenses saying it was something I wanted to do. They said it wasn’t necessary
but did accept the gift. While we were visiting a cream soda was brought to me
with a tray and glass. I asked for just a little bit. This is funny and I don’t
know how it happened but when Geetha worked for us I discovered that she liked
cream soda so always had it on hand for her at the house. Somehow she thought I
liked cream soda so has always had it on hand for me when I came to visit. I
can hardly choke it down. Ron used to drink it on our rafts trips and I could
hardly stand to kiss him afterwards. So Geetha’s tradition has been handed down
to the next generation and I am not about to change that! I drank what was
offered.
When I felt I should leave I got the information regarding the
funeral and asked if I could stop by on Friday to say goodbye before I left
town. I again started crying when I hugged each of her daughters goodbye.
Without realizing it the entire family followed me out to the road. When I got
into the trishaw they were all standing there. We waved goodbye. When I used to
visit Geetha either at work or at home she always stood in the road and waved
until I was out of sight.
I came back to the hotel and realized I hadn’t eaten since
breakfast but didn’t see any place to eat around the hotel so bought some small
bananas and crackers at the store across the street. The bananas were not ripe
so I only ate one and I wasn’t that interested in crackers since I had toast
for breakfast. The dark chocolate held me over. I couldn’t sleep so read and
rested. I called Veena, our former landlady and now friend and asked her to dinner.
She said she would pick me up at 6:30. This being poya the first place we tried
was closed but I suggested a lovely place nearby that has wonderful ambiance and
great food. We sat outside in the courtyard surrounded by lush vegetation and
running fountains. We had a wonderful time catching up and talking about India, Veena is Indian, and how things have
changed in Sri Lanka
with the election of a new president. The last president and various members of
his family are being investigated and charged with corruption, millions and
millions of dollars misappropriated and many family members were involved.
Absolute power strikes again! I went to bed early and slept well.
August 19, 2016
Today Mr K picked me up at 9:00. I had asked for an 8:00
breakfast but when I entered the restaurant no one was there. I came back down
to the ground floor and there in the lobby on the floor was my guy. I tapped on
the glass door and woke him up and returned to the fourth floor. Soon he was
taking my order. He somehow misunderstood me and gave me six pieces of toast
with my omelet. Not sure how that happened. Anyway at 8:45 he brought my fruit
to the table and I gobbled down a few pieces as I wanted to be outside by 9:00.
I came downstairs and realized I needed Sumuir to open the gate. Up to the fourth
floor and I asked him to come and let me out. When I mentioned the time he
showed me it was 8:54…ah anal me and clocks and laid back island time…what can
I say?
Mr K and I embraced and chatted for awhile before taking
off. I leaned over the seat back and
chatted all the way to town. Today was a school holiday so the traffic was
light. We arrived at Barefoot 40 minutes before they opened and Mr K wasn’t so
sure what to do with me. I suggested he park his vehicle and visit with me. So
we talked about his family and Geetha among other things. He has three adult
children and two live with their spouses in Australia where there are more opportunities
for work. His wife will leave tomorrow for a visit there for eight months. He
invited me to have dinner at his house, a tradition that started when we left
SL in 2006. I told him I would love to join them if he promised to keep it
simple as it is always an elaborate feast. The tradition here is when you have
a guest you serve them the meal but the hosts do not sit with the guest. You
stand around the table and the minute the guest takes a few bites you replenish
the plate. I am hopeful that tonight he and his daughter will join me at the
table yet I am realistic that it may not happen.
Mr K has a lush and
lovely garden filled with orchids and water features. He loved to make ships in
bottles and has given me two on previous visits.
After visiting for about 30 minutes I went into the store
hoping to find some pants. Sankar washes our clothes my hand but I can tell it
is hard on some of them when he uses a paddle to extract water or to drive soap
into the fabric. I never have watched as he likes to do it after his shower
wrapped in a towel while squatting on the ground. Anyway I lucked out as they had three pair in colors and the size I needed. I also got a Buddha silver
statue for Mr K tonight and a ceramic bowl by an artist who hand paints tableware.
I have three small bowls but this was the first time I have found a larger one.
Good lord they are expensive but as my friend Dottie Walters used to say “Who
cares?” I also wanted to get some of her luncheon plates but none were
available.
On the way back to the hotel we drove along the ocean front
which is experiencing development of high end hotels and apartments Mr K said
the people who sold their beach front property left for the high life in Europe. He stopped by a vendor who sells coconut water
still in the coconut. The vendor takes out a huge knife, lops off the top and
inserts a straw. Mr K brought it over to me to enjoy, a refreshing drink. He
said I would do better to eat here than near our hotel so we waited until 11:30
and he took me to an Indian veg place where we have eaten many times on
previous visits.
I went back to the hotel and relaxed until time to go. Mr K
took me to Geetha’s house. The lanes into her neighborhood were strung overhead
with white streamers that hung down about two feet and fluttered in the breeze.
Her living room was filled with women and Geetha’s body. At one point Jacintha
started wailing, crying out ‘oh ma’ which was the only thing I could understand
as the rest was in Sinhalese. She was joined by her sisters. It was my first
experience with what I call ritualized wailing. This went on for a while. This
was a Catholic funeral. The women then had someone speaking with responses from
the women which made me wonder if they were saying the rosary. About 30 minutes
later a priest appeared to perform the service. The living room is quite small
so it was crowded and there were many folks outside peering in the doorway and
windows. He finished and exited as did
most of us in the room. Then more wailing. I had been joined by Anton (a good friend from Asia Foundation days), in the
living room. After standing outside he went back in to see what was happening. He
came and got me and told me to come inside as now they were passing a bottle
of scented oil to sprinkle on Geetha’s body, a means of blessing I assume, and
wishing her a safe journey. He and I both did this. We exited again and waited for
the procession which was led by altar boys with red and white robes. Many
people wore white at the funeral.
Once we arrived at the cemetery, we waited for the hearse and
those who walked to the cemetery. Then the casket was brought to a shelter and
set on a platform and opened again where the priest said some words and
attendees were once again offered the chance to sprinkle oil on the body. More
wailing ensued. Then the casket was closed and brought to the burial plot,
lowered and people were given the chance to throw dirt onto the casket. More
wailing and then the casket was covered with dirt and a wooden cross with DOB
and Sinhalese writing was placed in the dirt. We were given candles or incense
to light and place in the dirt. Flowers were placed on top of the plot also. I
went back to the hotel and Herath rode with me. He has been a critical link
between Geetha and me for many years. He works for the Asia Foundation where
she worked and was our go between using email. With his help and translation
skills my relationship with Geetha as allowed to continue and greatly deepen
I rested for a couple hours as I was wrung out emotionally.
I cannot even begin to imagine how her daughters were doing. Mr K picked me up
at 7:30 and took me to his house. He lives in Nugegoda where I am staying. I
was greeted by his wife, daughters and spouses, and granddaughters . It was so warm
and welcoming and just what I needed after so much sadness. The granddaughter
is a seven yr old chatter box who calls me auntie as is the custom here and in India. She knew
about Geetha’s passing so had questions for me but she also wanted to know
things like; my favorite food and my religion. Her grandfather is a devout
Buddhist. I had purchased a lovely silver Buddha earlier in the day as a thank
you gift for him. I was served sweetened lime juice, my fave here. Then after
about 20-30 minutes invited to come outside. In the back yard there is a
walkway and stairs the lead to a small elevated patio and apartment. We always
eat here. There was a buffet with about five or six dishes: hoppers, string
hoppers with sautéed veggies, chili shrimp, egg hoppers, fish, and kiri hodi (a
sauce). The custom here is guests eat and family member serve you. They watch
you eat but do not join you at the table. After awhile they asked if the seven
yr old could join me and I said I wished the entire family would join me but
knew that wouldn’t happen. For dessert there was fresh pineapple (Sri Lankas is
the best, always sweet and tender . You can eat the entire slice including the
center.), papaya, and terrific sweet watermelon, topped off with fresh avocado
slice sprinkled with sugar of all things and my absolute favorite mangosteen. I
could barely move. Another part of this feast is the minute you have taken a
couple of bites, your plate is replenished. If you aren’t paying attention you
will never finish your meal!
I left after a couple of hours and was totally exhausted
from the day’s events. I slept like a rock until 7:15. I had a leisurely
breakfast of toast, pineapple and coffee and met Mr K at 10:00. We stopped by
Geetha’s house to say goodbye. All the trapping of the funeral were gone: the
white streamers, the flowers, the platform, etc. The front room was bare except
for a plastic chair or two. I was invited to sit down and the three daughters
stood across the room facing me. We said a few things to one another then
Geetha’s grandson Tinesh walked in. He speaks excellent English so I asked for
his phone number so I could communicate with the family. Then I asked if he
used email. He is 18 and finishing school next year. I was thrilled to learn
that he did. So I got his email address and asked him if he would serve as the
communication link between me and the family. He readily agreed. Without him
the only way to communicate would be by mail and no one speaks much English so
I was worried about that. Problem solved. I told him I would let him know when
we would be coming back to Colombo.
I also asked if the family needed anything I wanted him to tell me and that if
I can help I would. Again I was served cream soda and so was Mr K. Afterwards we
all walked out to the trishaw and said our last goodbyes until next time; the
three daughters, two of their husbands, and several children. More tears.
Next I stopped at the Asia Foundation to say goodbye to
Herath and Anton. Anton was out so Herath came to the reception area and he
asked me to drop him a line now and then. I told him that we were connected
through the heart and I would be in touch with him always. More tears.
I asked Mr K to take me to the Cinnamon Grand, the hotel
where Ron and I stayed while looking for a place to live in 2005 when he worked
here and where I first met Mr K. I had a leisurely Americano and
reminisced. Then asked to go to a Buddhist Temple that is nearby. It is an
interesting place as it is a blend of Hindu and Buddhist influences with Ganesh
statues greeting visitors at the door. Ganesh is the elephant god who has the
head of an elephant and the body of a man. There are highly colored figures
throughout the temple with representations of both religions which is often
common in SL. There is also a museum of antiques that is part of the temple but
I really just wanted to have a quite moment in the temple. Then I asked to go
just around the corner to Beira
Lake that has a structure
that juts out over the lake. It is basically a wooden structure that looks a
bit like a house but it is just a shell with Buddhist statues inside and all
around the perimeter. Again just a quiet moment was what I needed. Lastly I
went to Barefoot for lunch, dining alfresco under the shade of the trees. I
walked through the art gallery afterwards then headed for the hotel. I said my
goodbyes to Mr K and cried again. I am wrung out. I spent the afternoon
relaxing in the lobby working on emails and the blog before heading to the
airport.
Meanwhile back in India
There was a holiday on Thursday the 18th and Ron and Rahul (our Driver) visited Ahmedabad's old car museum. They have over 100 vintage cars on display. Just a few are shown here:
After breakfast we visited before Raju left for work. I read until I got sleepy and then took a
short nap. Ron had a meeting at the City to promote his program and got invited
to send a proposal. Later in the day he found out the person who is supposed to
do translation at the class Ron is teaching on Tuesday may quit her job! OY!
