Visiting Buddha 1

Before I got to Polonnaruwa, my first tourist destination, I came face to face with my ignorance.
We passed a beautiful lake



--well I thought it was a lake. Then Lankesh said: “Man-made reservoir, Mum. One thousand years old.”
An 11th century reservoir that was still functioning! And just one of several from the same period still used for swimming, “angling” and agriculture. Built when Leif Eriksson was establishing his settlement in Greenland. Built at the time of the Battle of Hastings. Polonnaruwa was the second capital of the Island. The first was further north in Anuradhapura -- established 1400 years earlier. And I hadn’t heard of either.
Polonnaruwa was a sort of “Forbidden City”, accessible only to the Royal Family, and also a sanctuary for Buddhist monks. After it was abandoned in 1215 for yet another capital, Polonnaruwa was gradually overtaken by the jungle. When excavation started in 1903 it was “only a mound of earth” according to British archaeologist HCP Bell whose exciting job it was to rediscover it.
It has been a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1982 and is one of the most visited places in Sri Lanka both by tourists and Buddhist pilgrims – who were in the majority the day I went.



There are a few rules to observe when visiting Buddhist shrines. A special one for tourists: “No photos with your back to the Buddha.” And all have to have shoulders and knees covered and take off their shoes near the shrines.



This last nearly undid me. The hot stones burned my feet. When I decided to keep my shoes on and just look from a distance at the most remarkable statues in Polonnarawa, Lankesh, realizing my problem, said “Socks are all right, Mum.” And so I strode forward, the envy of all the footsore Europeans I encountered whose guides hadn’t given them this useful information. And I was glad I did.

Buddha in meditation position



Smaller Buddha in artificial grotto surrounded by Hindu gods.



Reclining Buddha (14 m or 46 feet long)



He has a lovely face.



In the late afternoon, I visited another Buddha at Aukana -- a place I found even more impressive. First, we drove on a country road through the jungle and passed another ancient reservoir or “tank” as they are known locally. Shortly afterwards, we arrived at a small parking area near some stone steps. We climbed them and came to the place to take off our shoes and buy an entry ticket. There was a school nearby but, since it was Sunday, there were no children. We went through an entrance, walking on stone. In front of us was



To our left was the statue we had come to see – the tallest in the Buddhist world since the Taliban destroyed the Bamian statues in Afghanistan in 2001.



This statue, built at approximately the same time as the others I had seen, is 12 m (39 ft) tall and carved, like them, from living rock. The Buddha has his hand raised in the blessing position and is positioned so the rising sun’s rays light his head. The statue was originally covered in gold. You can see traces of it on his toes -- as well as the mark between his feet which the sculptor used to align the head and the feet.



“All the calculations without a computer, Mum.” said Lankesh in awe. I was the only westerner there at the time. This is more a local shrine than a tourist attraction. Toward the end of our visit, a group of pilgrims, led by a monk, knelt and chanted.
“Many people haven’t been able to come here for 30 years, Mum.” said Lankesh, quietly. One more reason to be glad that one war, at least, is over.

Sharing the Road

Before I got down to some serious sight-seeing, I had to get acquainted with road travel « Sri Lankan style ». The fact that cars drive on the left didn’t bother me; living in Jamaica as a teenager and visiting English friends over the years has long since corrected the optical illusion that the cars coming toward you are in your lane. But Sri Lankans have a driving style all their own which requires a little getting used to.
At first glance, it would seem an easy place to drive in. Main roads are paved. Country roads, though unpaved, seem in good condition. All roads, except near Colombo, are two-lane and, except near the cities, there is only moderate traffic. But Sri Lankans share their roads with a wider variety of vehicles and other users than the average European or North American. And Sri Lankan drivers seem genetically programmed to pass as many vehicles as they can during any given journey.



Let me give you an example. Lankesh and I are driving along on our way to our tourist destination. We find ourselves behind a rice lorry.



Lankesh eases out to pass. Oops – a bus. He eases gracefully back behind the lorry.



Then he eases out again. Oops – a tuk tuk.



The next attempt is luckier and on we go -- until we get behind another lorry.



This one is not fun to be behind. Lankesh explains to me that there are pollution standards and military checkpoints to enforce them. “But sometimes people pay the soldiers.” So, away we go again, carefully avoiding



We travel for a short time behind



until Lankesh decides the time is right. Staying just a couple of centimeters (an inch) away from the lorry in order to give room to



we continue to the next village.







In the evening, others occasionally use the road.





Neither drivers nor pedestrians – either two-footed or four-footed – exhibit anger fear or stress. All those who share the road simply do what they want to do while making sure others have the right to do the same.
“Aren’t there a lot of accidents?” I hear you asking. Not really. I only saw one in two weeks – a car which, judging by the amount of glass on the road, had plowed into the flatbed lorry that was stopped just in front of it. No one seemed hurt.
There are fatalities, of course. Statistics I found listed 2304 of them in 2005 (for a total population of about 19 million people.) Those affected, in descending order were
• Pedestrians
• Passengers
• Motorcycle riders
• Cyclists
• Roadside businessmen
Last (less than 8% of the total fatalities) were car, lorry and bus drivers.
As an Irishman I met put it, “Sri Lankans are so good at driving badly!”
But enough. The sun is shining. The scenery is beautiful. And we’re pulling into the parking area of my first tourist site.

Visiting Sri Lanka with Lankesh

Sri Lanka is a country that only the young and intrepid would consider visiting on their own. Although travel agencies do organize bus tours there, it is not uncommon for people to take private tours instead – just two or three in a car with a guide who is also the driver. Few do it alone but a friend of mine did and thoroughly enjoyed herself. So that is the decision I made.
All the hotels tourists stay in, except in Colombo, have special rooms and a special dining room for guides. So they get to relax in the evenings with their friends and laugh or moan about their clients. And we get to enjoy the hotel and other tourists without struggling to make conversation with a stranger we’ve just spent all day with.
Sounded perfect.
And so Lankesh and I became a team for two weeks.
He’s in his thirties, married, with a cute 3 year old son. (He showed me pictures on his cell phone.) His English is quite passable if I don’t change the subject too fast or make a joke he’s not expecting. He was a ship’s engineer for 8 years upon leaving school and, after 6 months training, has been a guide for 5 years. He says he loves it, and his unfailing cheer leaves no doubt that he’s telling the truth, though it must be a hard job for a man with a family. (Perhaps harder on his wife and son than on him.)
Lankesh knows a lot about the various sites he takes his tourists to visit, and is always ready to propose something not on the program that he thinks you’ll enjoy. The ideal thing about a private tour is that you can spend a little longer at places you like and leave a little earlier if you’re done.
Though he always encouraged me to take photos of the views and sites tourists are supposed to take pictures of, he was also very good about finding a place to stop so I could take pictures of things that caught my eye.
I wouldn’t have wanted to miss those water buffalo!




He met me every morning at reception– never on time; always early -- with a smile and the same two questions:
“Good sleep, Mum?”
“Good food, Mum?”
Then, he opened the front passenger door of his brand new freshly washed white Toyota, his pride and joy. “Only twenty of this model in all of Sri Lanka, Mum.” And we were off on another adventure.

Relaxing in the Jungle

I woke up as the car slowed down.
“We’re almost at the hotel, Mum.”
I saw trees, grass and the dirt road we were travelling on. And a gate. But no hotel.
We stopped.
“You can go to reception, Mum”.
Where was that? Oh yes. In front of me was a cream-colored concrete structure with no walls. But there was definitely a reception desk in the back.
I filled out the form that was presented to me, sipped my “Welcome drink” of watermelon juice and was led down a winding stone path to



my home for the next four days.
Many travel agents arrange for their clients to spend their first night in Colombo. Mine preferred to drive me 3 hours into the center of the Island right away and then let me relax in tropical splendor. I approved from the first moment.
This hotel, built 3 years ago, houses its guests in 31 individual chalets scattered throughout its large grounds around the centrally located restaurant.



The restaurant has no walls, like reception, but has a beautiful view.



None of the chalets is exactly beside or in front of another and the trees offer still more privacy. Though the restaurant was full every evening and morning, the only sounds I heard were the birds.






Speaking of birds, a black-hooded oriole served as my wake-up call every morning. He came thumping against my window between 6 and 6:30 and then raced away before I could get a picture. Here’s one from the internet. Thanks Google.




Never mind. It gave me more time to enjoy the “outdoor shower” – not really outdoors but the roof above it was cut out and covered over with netting – to let all the sunshine in while keeping unwelcome visitors out. Just what I needed before starting a busy day of sight-seeing.

Local Currency

The American businessman and I went through immigration. Then we walked past a duty free area where, to my surprise, they sold not only the usual perfume, alcohol and food but also refrigerators and washing machines. He told me these were bought by Sri Lankans coming in from abroad and wheeled out on the baggage trolleys to happy friends and family members.
After collecting our luggage we said goodbye and I decided it was time to get some Sri Lankan money.I was soon in possession of my first Sri Lankan rupees – a number of 2000 LKR notes, a 1000 LKR note and two 500 LKR.









2000 LKR is worth about 13€ or $17 US. Of course, that doesn’t mean much until you know what it will buy. Over the next few days I learned that 2000 LKR would buy a hotel dinner with some change left over and that you could get a light lunch for 500 LKR unless you bought a drink. Admission to tourist sites is often more expensive than dinner – for foreigners. There are three clearly marked prices at all sites – adults, children and foreigners. Foreigners pay at least double what Sri Lankans are charged and sometimes a good deal more. I philosophically thought “Oh well, I’m supporting the local economy.”
I found out there was a need for smaller bills too – for tipping. You tip nearly everyone who does anything for you in Sri Lanka but it’s hard to learn the rules because questions are met with embarrassed politeness.
“Shall I give this man a tip?”
“If you’re happy, Mum.”
“How much shall I give?”
“Whatever you like, Mum.”
After several days of observation, I developed my own rules.
Leaving your shoes outside the temple = 50 LKR




(This one was easy because it is clearly posted at each temple.)

Other small services like carrying luggage to your hotel room = 100 LKR



More important services – like a heavenly massage = 500 LKR

By the end of my stay I had acquired the Sri Lankan tip giving manner.
1. Fold the note you are about to give and clutch it in your hand so it’s barely visible.
2. Hold out your hand, while staring just above the other person’s left shoulder with a pleasant expression on your face – but not quite a smile.
3. Walk away or get into your car immediately afterwards so the giving and leaving gestures all seem part of the same movement.

I eventually saw even smaller notes -- useless for buying anything except when you had several.






Though I saw coins left as offerings in temples, I never held one in my hand. If a bill came to 832 LKR, they just charged me 830 LKR

But all of this was in my future. In the present, I just needed to find the travel agency representative and my guide. And, to my relief, they were there! The travel agency rep put a sweetly perfumed frangipani lei around my neck and introduced me to my guide. My guide smiled and pushed my luggage trolley to his waiting car.

Oh they drive on the left here like in England.
May I sit in the front seat, please?

I settled myself and we were off. I found my guide very cheerful and chatty considering the sun had only just risen.
I heard “Portuguese, Dutch, English”
I heard “Buddhist, Hindu, Moslem, Christian”
I heard “Wet zone, intermediate zone, dry zone”
I heard “coconut”
Then …… I heard ……. nothing more.

In the Lap of Luxury

I had decided that a milestone trip to celebrate a milestone birthday needed a milestone start. It takes 10 ½ hours to get to Sri Lanka from Paris. Sri Lankan Airlines flies there non-stop three times a week. A direct flight sounded good. A 10 ½ hour direct flight in Business Class sounded even better.
What a pleasure to stand in a very short check-in line and a very short security line and then make my way to the calm and quiet lounge to wait until my flight was called.



Then I walked through a Business Class corridor to board the plane and settled into a seat that was big enough to relax in with enough room for my legs to stretch out. These things alone would have been worth the price differential. But there was more – much more.
On this particular flight there were only four people in Business Class – an American businessman, a Sri Lankan couple and me. We had two lovely flight attendants dressed in peacock saris who took excellent care of us.



“Hot towel?”
“Papaya juice”
Newspapers, toiletry cases and the menu followed.
About an hour or so after take-off, they came to serve us our first meal.



Medallion of Lobster & Marinated Prawns with Russian Salad
Cream of green pea soup
Tulip of salmon with hollandaise sauce, pan-fried broccoli with garlic and birani rice
Mushroom Ravioli with Poultry Cream sauce & Sundried Tomato Sauce.
Fresh fruit
Black Forest Cream Tartlette
Coffee

I ate happily from Vienna to Budapest.
After a bit of reading and a long nap, as we were heading down the Persian Gulf, they came around with another elegant meal. I won’t describe it all – you’ll only be jealous – but here is the main course.



Not too long afterwards we began our descent. I looked out the window but it was pitch dark. At 4:30 a.m. Sri Lankan time (1 a.m. Paris time) there was a gentle thump, the sound of the reverse thrust of the engines and we slowly rolled to the gate. The American businessman and I walked down the steps to our own private bus. (We never learned who the Sri Lankan couple was but they were sufficiently important that they had another bus just for them). I still couldn’t see anything but I was here. In Sri Lanka. At last.

Sri Lanka at Last

I had planned to visit Sri Lanka two years ago as the finale of a milestone birthday celebration. Since 2006, I have sponsored a little girl near Columbo with an organization called Children Incorporated and I wanted to visit her. Unfortunately, the Civil War there, which had been raging in fits and starts since 1983, reached what turned out to be its final paroxysm about the time I was about to make my plans. A holiday avoiding bombs and bullets was not what I’d had in mind.
This spring I said to myself “The war ended a year ago. You can either continue to idly think about going to Sri Lanka or you can get organized and actually go.” Shortly afterwards, on my way home from an errand, I passed a travel agency with a brochure for Sri Lanka in its window. I went in to ask a few questions -- and a few weeks later I sat perusing my itinerary. I would have nearly two weeks to sightsee and a free day towards the end when I could organize a visit my little girl.




“I’m going to Sri Lanka” I started mentioning casually to my friends in an attempt to make it sound more real. The last “big trip” I’d taken was to South Africa ten years ago so I felt like a novice as I tried to think of what I needed to take, wondered about adapters and how I’d get money and whether I should worry about malaria.



On September 3rd, as I packed, I alternated between excitement and wondering if this trip was a good idea. Soon, it was too late for doubts. My taxi arrived. I was off. Let the adventure begin.