The Most Interesting Animal in the Zoo

“I can’t spend two days in Colombo without leaving the hotel!” I said to myself. “There’s not a lot to see,” Lankesh responded. “I’ll drive you around in the car tomorrow.”
“Isn’t there …… a zoo?” I asked. Surely every city has a zoo?
Lankesh seemed reluctant. “There’s a very nice Buddhist temple, Mum.”
I thought I had done my Buddhist temple duty on this trip. After lunch we were off to the zoo in Dehiwala.
I soon learned the reason for Lankesh’s reluctance. The Dehiwala Zoological Garden is an old Zoo. It was founded in the 1920s by John Hargenberg who kept this 5 acre (about two hectare) area for animals that he sold to circuses and, enterprisingly, opened it to the public so they could see the exotic beasts before they were shipped away.
In 1936 the government took it over from the German Hargenberg family and opened it as a Zoo in 1939. Like many old zoos, it now seems rather sad and scruffy. The animals are kept in small cages



and their habitat is far from natural. Lankesh told me that they had almost finished a, modern zoo near the Elephant Orphanage at Pinnawala, about 90 km (55 miles) away. That will be better for the animals and tourists – though the Sri Lankans who live near Colombo won't be able to enjoy it as easily.
Before I became too disappointed, I realized that my afternoon visit was an excellent resumé of my whole Sri Lankan experience.
First of all, though Sri Lankans only pay 100 rupees to visit the Zoo (50 rupees for children), foreigners are charged a whopping 2000 rupees (14 euros or about $18 US). This was the biggest price differential I had seen,though foreigners are always charged more. Since we also earn a lot more than the average Sri Lankan, this never bothered me though I heard other tourists complain.
There were lots of visitors at the zoo that afternoon – mostly women and children. Very young children get out of school at noon and the older ones at 1:30 p.m. so they came as no surprise. And Lankesh had explained to me with pride that “Sri Lankan women don’t work.” (meaning those who have husbands like him who earn a decent salary). I assumed the women I saw fell into that category. I saw, however, no other westerners. Soon, I felt like I was the main attraction. Children were still more interested in the pygmy hippos.



If they noticed me at all, they giggled or stared a little apprehensively. Not so the teenagers and adults. “Hello! Where you from?” they called. Except for one woman who asked curiously “Why you alone?” I had learned by this time that Sri Lankans find a woman alone curious and somewhat unsettling. Other single tourists and I discussed laughingly in the evenings how we had recklessly invented absent husbands and children to put them at their ease.
While staring at the tiny mouse deer



I heard a gentle voice say “Group photo?” A smiling young woman, visiting the zoo with her friends wanted a special souvenir. I complied and several cameras were produced. Afterwards, I said “Now me.” and held up my own camera. So we all have souvenirs



Near the sloth bear’s cage



a woman gestured to me to take a photo of her and her children – a souvenir for me, if not for them.



Later, as I made my way to the exit, an entire class from a Muslim school, waiting to go in, waved excitedly.



A small taste of celebrity on a sunny afternoon.

Colorful Language

Before I went to Sri Lanka, I was under the impression that English was a commonly-spoken language. This seemed logical to me as Ceylon was a former British colony. I should have considered the source of my information – French friends and travel agents!
It is true that you will find more Sri Lankans who speak English than any other European language. I was told English is the mother tongue of 74000 of them. Others were educated in England and speak a beautiful and cultivated language – upper class British English with a gentle tropical flavor. The written form of this language has a well-educated Victorian polish. Here is part of an article I read in a Sri Lankan English language newspaper – describing the meeting of the journalist with a young shoplifter.
“Ambling down the aisles of the local outlet of a popular Super Market, I saw a little boy of about ten years arriving with his parents. While they did their shopping he was doing a tour of his own, weaving in and out of the aisles and I watched him interestedly as he reminded me of my youngest grandson now domiciled abroad.
He paused at a garland of sachets draped over a rack to finger through them and having made his choice tore one off and moved away. I presumed it was to drop it into his mother’s trolley but I saw him pause, look furtively around and thrust it into one of the many pockets in his pants……. No ten year old, unless a moron, can claim not to know that stealing is wrong. Fancy words and deflecting phrases cannot absolve him of blame; that was the harsh ugly truth.”
No lack of eloquence here. However, a large number of those I came in contact with spoke almost no English beyond “Hello” and “Where from?”
There are two official languages in Sri Lanka – Sinhala, spoken by the Sinhalese majority and Tamil spoken by the Tamils (both Sri Lankan and Indian) . The Moors speak a form of Tamil influenced by the Arabic their ancestors spoke. Offical signs -- like traffic signs -- are in these two languages as well as English.



Since the end of colonialisation, the government, in a successful attempt to increase literacy, changed the language of instruction from English to the two languages spoken by a majority of the people. English has, therefore, become a foreign language like any other except in some private schools. In order to develop international business and tourism, a huge effort is now being made to teach English in the schools and provide “Business English” courses to adults. Over time, I’m sure they will succeed. But they will, no doubt, lose a little of the charm I found in the signs I saw as I made my way around the Island.
Was this sign put up when the British arrived in Kandy?



Do only colonial ladies frequent this park?



Were these signs penned by stern Anglican priests?





This one; at the moat near Sigiriya, is my favorite – English suffused with Buddhist gentleness.



“Beware of crocodiles.” seems so harsh and bureaucratic to me now.

Out of Many, One People

One of the things I mused about was that this Island, which is twice the size of Belgium (or approximately the same area as West Virginia), has a surprising variety of ethnicities and religions among its 21 million people. I knew, of course, that there were at least two ethnic groups because that’s what the 30 year long civil war was about – a group of radical Tamils from the North wanting independence from the rest of the country. But I discovered that the population was more complex than that. Sri Lanka could easily share the Jamaican motto I’ve borrowed for the title of this piece – a translation of the latin phrase found on the Great Seal of the United States.
The Sinhalese make up nearly 75% of the population and live mostly in the southwest. Lankesh is Sinhalese and so is Arulpriya. The Tamils, originally from South India and not all of whom are terrorists, have also been in Sri Lanka for centuries. They make up another 12% of the population and live mostly in the north. I learned that there are also Indian Tamils (as opposed to the Sri Lankan Tamils mentioned above.) The British brought them over in the 19th century to work on their tea and rubber plantations where they mostly remain today. They remained stateless until several years after Sri Lanka became independent.
The Moors, descendents of Arabic traders who first came to Ceylon in the 7th century, form another minority group as do Burghers, descendents of European colonists. There are also a few Veddas -- descendents of the very first people on the Island, before the arrival of the Sinhalese.
A number of religions are practiced here and correspond largely, but not exclusively, to the various ethnic origins of their believers. The majority are Buddhist (largely the Sinhalese). Many of the Tamils are Hindu. Most of the Moors are Muslim and the Burghers are the main Christian community. According to Lankesh, people of different religions coexist peacefully. I hope he’s right and will continue to be so. A profusion of shrines, temples, mosques and churches along the main roads support his statement.

Buddhist shrine



Hindu temple



Mosque


Christian shrine



It was impossible for me, an outsider, to see any ethnic differences among the people. Those placing offerings at the Hindu shrines looked like those chanting before the Buddhist statues and those singing hymns in the Anglican church in Galle.
The following are some of those whose paths I crossed for a short while. My wish is that they be and remain as friendly, kind and hard-working as they seemed.

City Chic

Soon after we turned back onto the main Galle-Columbo road, the traffic became heavier and more frantic and the buildings taller and more numerous. We were in Colombo and heading for my sixth and last Sri Lankan Hotel.
The Galle Face Hotel was founded by British entrepreneurs in 1864 -- building on to a Dutch villa called Galle Face House. The house and, later, the hotel took their name from the large field laid out as a promenade, race track and golf course by the British governor of Ceylon in 1859. It was bigger then but still covers 5 hectares (over 12 acres) between Galle Road and the Indian Ocean.

No longer used for horse races or golf, it is still a favorite spot for local families who come here to stroll, picnic, fly kites or swim.



The hotel has undergone many renovations over the years but is still one of Colombo’s most popular places. It’s even listed in the book “1000 Places to See Before You Die.” And now I have.
I had hoped to be staying in the Classic Wing (the old part of the hotel)



but it was not to be. Lankesh swung around to the imposing entrance to the Regency Wing, the four year old extension to the Victorian hotel



where a distinguished doorman in livery opened the car door with a flourish. I mounted the steps to the vast lobby,feeling a little daunted and hopiing I’d be found worthy.
I was shown to my room which did have an ocean view --nearly --



and a somewhat intimidating control panel on the bedside table.



Though most of the buttons did as they were supposed to, try as I might, I couldn’t get the bathroom light to turn off. I saw the word “Bath’” on the lower left hand side. But no matter how hard I pressed, nothing happened. I gave up and called reception. Within minutes there was a knock at my door. A pleasant attendant asked how he could help. I explained my plight and he reached up --- and flicked the light switch next to the bathroom door. I could see that, after two weeks in the country, re-entry into urban life was going to take some time.
As I wandered through the hotel to get my bearings – oh look, the car the 19 year old midshipman who is now Prince Philip bought when he was stationed in Ceylon during World War II – the prized (and much photographed) possession of the owner of the Hotel. --



I learned that about half the guests here were western businessmen. The others were tourists like myself, either at the beginning or at the end of their visit, and Sri Lankans staying here for weddings – remember the weddings? –



or guests at banquets held in one of the 9 restaurants.
By this time, I was at that familiarly uncomfortable part of a trip abroad where your itinerary says you still have several days before the flight home but your mind and body say “I’ve seen what I came to see and I’m not sure I can absorb any more.” I was glad to have the time to sit by the salt water pool,



look out on the Indian Ocean



and muse.

A Special Day

Lankesh picked me up at my « private hotel » the next morning. This was the day of my visit to the little girl I’ve been sponsoring since 2006 – the reason for my visit to Sri Lanka. I wondered if she was excited, curious or perhaps a little nervous that morning. I wondered how we would communicate. She only spoke Singhalese and I ---- didn’t.
After a phone call to get driving instructions, we drove to Lankesh’s town where we stopped to buy a few gifts. Then we continued along the main road between Galle and Colombo. We were expected at 3 p.m. But, even though we went slowly and stopped for lunch, it was only about 1 p.m. when we turned off the main road. We were now on a very narrow street. The houses on both sides were close together and almost at street level. I was just thinking that it looked like a poor neighborhood when Lankesh breathed reverently, “Rich people live here. Big houses.” Just another proof that you should never have preconceived ideas in a country you’ve never been to.
After checking with a passerby, Lankesh turned left, then right. We had arrived.



As we continued down the driveway



my heart beat faster. But not as fast as the matron’s when she saw us. She was flustered because the children weren’t home from school yet and the ladies from Colombo, who spoke English, hadn’t arrived either. Lankesh soon put her at ease while I smiled reassuringly.
We were given a short tour of the home including the bedrooms



and the schoolroom where the girls have extra lessons in the afternoon.



The matron and a former resident who now helps take care of the girls allowed us to take their picture.



Then they bustled off. Soon, the younger woman was back with tea, bananas and caramels and the matron called me to the phone. I spoke to Mrs Sahabandu, President of the family association that runs the home. She apologized and said she and her cousin would arrive as soon as possible.
Just before they did, the girls came home from school in their white uniforms. Arulpriya came in with a shy smile.



(All Children Incorporated allows me to show you, I’m afraid -- to protect the children’s privacy.) She was tiny – her head about 6 inches below my shoulder. Her big brown eyes sparkled and she wore her hair in two pony tails fastened with brown elastics. We sent her off to lunch but she came back in record time in an orange dress with a cartoon character print and sat down beside me. We couldn’t speak, of course, but smiles, presents and showing her the pictures in my camera gave us a personal contact which we both enjoyed.
When Mrs Sahabandu and her cousin arrived, I learned more about the Home. It was founded in 1940 by their aunt to look after destitute girls. They have room for a maximum of twenty-five girls. Social services places the children there and they usually stay until they are 18. By this time they have a high school education and are trained for a job. Arulpriya, not quite 10, has already been there four years, though she does see her mother during school vacations.
All too soon, a few curious heads peeped round the corner of the room where we were seated to call their friend to her English lesson. It was time to say goodbye.



The end of a very special day.

One Egg at a Time

While in Kosgoda, I didn’t just loll on a chaise lounge sipping coconut and pineapple drinks and wondering where the other tourists were. Though I didn’t know it before, Kosgoda Beach is one of the places where 5 endangered species of sea turtles come to lay their eggs.
Eighteen turtle hatcheries along the south coast of Sri Lanka do what they can to protect them. One special one is near my hotel.
The day I arrived, a young man met me on the beach and offered to take me to visit it the next morning. He arrived at the reception desk when I was finishing a long and lazy breakfast. The pleasant lady at the restaurant came to tell me.
“Your tuk tuk is waiting, Mum.”
And off I went.



It’s not easy being a sea turtle. Only 5% of the eggs that hatch are females. Some turtles are born blind or deformed and cannot survive. Numerous healthy babies are eaten by fish or other turtles – including their own mother. And men catch the adults for food or their shells. This has been illegal for years, but it still goes on.
The hatchery I visited is the passion of a Kosgoda fisherman called Chandrasiri Abrew (Chande for short).



He employs 40 local people to help him save as many turtles as possible. Chande belongs to the community, knows all the villagers and pays them for each turtle egg they bring him. He gets this money mainly from tourists like me who visit his hatchery.
My tuk tuk driver and guide explained things to me step by step.

Turtle eggs have squishy shells



so they do not break when the females come ashore and lay them in a hole they dig in the sand.
When eggs are brought to the hatchery, the employees rebury them just as their mother did the first time.



Each nest is marked to show the species of turtle. (OR stands for Olive Ridley, the smallest of the Sri Lankan sea turtles).
The eggs stay in the nest until they hatch. The top layer of eggs hatches in 48 days, the second layer two days later and the bottom layer in 52 days.
The baby turtles are put in tanks. After three days, they look like this.





The three day old turtles are released in the evening onto dry sand near the sea. During their slow journey towards the water, they somehow imprint the sand of this particular area of beach and, should the females survive, they come back to the same place once a year to lay their eggs.

This is the part of Sri Lanka that was devastated by the tsunami in 2004. Chande escaped with one albino turtle he had kept since they cannot live in the wild.



The entire hatchery was destroyed along with much of the village. Though most of the area has been rebuilt now, you can still see small areas here and there that give you a glimpse of the horror.



When Chande and his turtle returned, he set about rebuilding with the help of his tourist friends. He invited them to sponsor a tank. In thanks, he painted their names and country of origin on each one.



Saving endangered species seems a daunting task. But Chande’s doing it one egg at a time. I’m glad we met.