It is a common
phenomenon that most people who now live in cities in many countries in the
world have migrated from villages. We all have pleasant memories about the
village where we were born, bread, shaped and educated (in a primary school)
before we had moved to a city for other reasons. When we were studying in a
primary class, we remember writing compositions about the topic of “My village”. Our teachers often encouraged us to compose
even poems about village life because village life is thought to be so simple,
pleasant and entertaining that it keeps attracting people belonging to all
walks of life all the year round. As we know, a great number of books on both
prose and poetry that deal with every aspect of village life have been compiled
by veteran writers and poets in their respective countries in the world. Even
though there can be some differences in the patterns of life of villagers, one
can see that all villages, irrespective of their geographical locations, share
common features such as vocations, beliefs, customs, norms, social values, attitudes
and interactional patterns among members of a given community.
Being a person from a
village, I also experienced the vicissitudes of village life same as the other
members did in my village. As far as my view is concerned in Sri Lankan context,
it was Martin Wickramasinghe, one of the eminent scholars that Sri Lanka ever
had, who wrote much about village life in my country both in Sinhala and
English languages alike. Next to Martin Wickramsinghe, another name that comes
to my mind is late J. Vijayatunga who could paint the vicissitudes of Sri
Lankan village life through his prolific pen. He lived in England and wrote in
English so that English readers got a chance to enjoy reading Sri Lankan
village vignette as it was. The name of the book he wrote is Grass for my
feet. I remember reading it with renewed interest for its simple language
and the varied stories based on a typical village life set in the southern part
of Sri Lanka.
Martin Wickrmasinghe J. Vijayatunga
While searching the
internet for information about J. Vijayatunga, I came across a book review
written by Richard Boyle about one of J. Vijayatunga’s books called Island
Story with the topic of Fact and
fiction remind us of our richness. The extract below gives some information about
Vijayatunga.
Jinidasa Vijayatunga (1903-89) is one of those
authors who, though reasonably prolific, are mainly remembered for a single
title. In Vijayatunga's case it is Grass for My Feet (1935), his childhood
reminiscences of village life in Ceylon published in London. This book caused
the Times Literary Supplement to declare, "Here one almost fancies is an
eastern avatar of Mark Twain." Together with R. L. Spittel, Vijayatunga
was one of the first Ceylonese writers to convey the essence of the island to
the world and helped forge the identity of Ceylonese English literature.
Educated
at Mahinda College, Galle, and across the Palk Straits at the University of
Madrapalle, Vijayatunga then went back to India in the early 1920s and worked
as editor of the magazine India & Ceylon and as a teacher at Tagore's
Shantiniketan. Afterwards he settled in England, only returning to Sri Lanka in
1989, the year of his death. While nothing else he wrote matched the evocative
excellence of Grass for My Feet, there are several other works of his that
deserve attention, in particular Island Story, which has the bonus of being
handsomely illustrated by Ivan Peries.
(Extracted from http://www.sundaytimes.lk/041024/plus/books.html)
The preamble I have
already provided to this account is no exhaustive about village or its life.
The purpose of this account is to present the reader with a genuine picture of
my village where I was born, bread and shaped around five decades ago. During
the month of August, 2014, I revisited my village which I had left when I was
17 or 18. After that, from time to time, I made a few journeys there but I
could not see a big change in my village in any of my visits as the one I made
during this year. After completing my primary and secondary education, I left
my village for good. Due to occupational reasons, I had to move to the capital
of Sri Lanka and after spending a few years in Colombo, I left the country.
After I had left the country, I got no chance to visit my village even though
some of my relatives still live there.
Soon after returning
from abroad, I resolved to pay a visit to my village so that I could meet my
relatives, friends and acquaintances who used to be very near and dear in
association. For this visit, I was accompanied by my son who is now nearly 14
years and he has never been to my village so he does not know any of my
relatives. I wanted to show him my village and make him interact with my
relatives so that he can get an idea about the life which villagers lead.
During the third week
of August, we packed our clothes and other necessities and left Colombo in one
morning. We travelled by three buses to get to my village which is situated in
Galagedara Electorate in Kandy district. It is situated at the foot of Alagalla rock which stands majestically projecting a glamorous view to the naked eye of
a casual viewer. My village is surrounded by mountains, rubber plantations and
paddy fields. It still looks like a virgin forest.
Another view of Allagalla Rock
When I left my village,
its condition was much better in terms of environment than it is today. There
were no motorable roads, no many houses with tiled roofs. The people were very
humble and united. Many paddy fields and farms were a specific characteristic
in my village. Most paddy fields were cultivated in both seasons. Buffaloes
were mainly used not only to till the soil of paddy fields but also to thresh
paddy. As I remember, when we were very young we loved to engaged in paddy threshing
which was generally done in the evening. In the olden days, villagers used
three or four buffaloes tied neck to neck with a rope to thresh paddy. The
buffaloes thus tied together would walk round the stack of paddy spread evenly
on the threshing floor. Once all the paddy seeds were separated from hey, the
group of buffaloes are removed from the threshing floor and the people who have
come to help the farmer whose paddy is being threshed will remove the hey from
the floor with a wooden stick specifically made for this purpose. When paddy is
threshed by a group of buffaloes, it is customary for a boy to go behind them
with a stick in hand to drive them continuously (see the picture below). When
the buffaloes become tired, they are given a rest for some time. Being
children, we loved to do this. While going behind buffaloes, you have to take a
dried areca nut leaf (the hard part which attaches to the tree, see the picture
below) to collect cow dung. Moreover, the one who goes behind the buffaloes
should recite loudly and rhythmically a folk poem meant for paddy threshing. Once
the paddy threshing is over, food is provided to all those who attended the
work. Our participation in paddy threshing in any farmer of the village mostly
linked to the food because the food which is prepared for such an event tends
to be more delicious than the food generally prepared for home consumption by
villagers. I should say that there are specific words and terms associated with
paddy cultivation related tasks in Sri Lanka. So the food which is specially
prepared and taken to the threshing floor or to the paddy field in a basket
woven from canes or coconut leaves is called “Ambula”.Being children, we loved
to enjoy “Ambula”which comprised with four or five curries along with our
elders. During the harvest season in our village, we used to come home at
night. During the day time, the threshing floor became a play area where we
used to play different types of games such as hide and seek or playing a game
with a ball. Why we chose a threshing floor as a play area was that it provided
us with comforts and safety. Once the paddy threshing is over, the farmer plies
a huge stack of hey around the threshing floor making conducive place for the
children to play.
Paddy threshing using buffaloes
The hard part of areca nut leaves which attach to the tree
It is a pity to state
that all of those I mentioned above pertains to paddy framing have now
disappeared from my village leaving no trace. I came to know that now most
paddy fields are not cultivated due to the shortage of water and those paddy
fields have now become either barren or farm lands where some vegetables are
grown for home consumption. Most paddy farmers have transformed into other
manual jobs which help them earn their day-to-day living expenses. Traditional
paddy cultivation as it used to be a few years ago no longer exist in my
village. Most villagers are now dependent on the rice produced in other areas
in the island. Condition such as this directly affects the rice production in
the country. From the point of economic view, failure to produce to the
required amount of a product as per the demand will normally result in
increasing the price of it.
Even though the condition of framing in my village is not favourable in terms of economy, there is one thing I found to be worth mentioning here. It is about the people who used to be very near and dear to me while I was a member of their community. They had not changed in their hospitality and humanity. They were the same as they used to be before a few decades ago. This is something I should appreciate highly because it is a common view that good qualities of most people disappear along with the changing society where most people nowadays give priority to money and status. The remarkable change I noticed with many of my village friends and relatives can be ascribed to only the physic. In attitude and manner, they are still the same.
The first night was spent with one of my old and close friends. He works as a manager of a rubber estate. We have been close friends since we were very young. He has gained a wealth of experience in relation to estate work. Since we had not met for such a long time, we spent many hours talking about our past and present activities and other matters related to our family and social life. The estate he works has a good bungalow where we spent the night. The bungalow consists of two bed room, a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom with a verandah. It has all the facilities as a modern house has.
This is the living room of the bungalow
Spacious bed room
A view of the rubber
estate
In the morning, we went round to see the rubber estate and it is well-kept and managed. After breakfast, we bade goodbye to my friend and left for my village again. But this time we went to see my uncle and aunt who live in another village a few kilo meters far from mine. It should be noted here that some infrastructure facilities have been developed in these areas which used to be sleepy hamlets in Hataraliyadda area, especially, the roads have been carpeted so now there is no distinction between cities and the villages in some parts of Sri Lanka.
Hatarliayadda town is
under construction
My step mother and father are quite old now but they are in good health. My step father worked in the Railway department in Kandy until he retired. We were given a stupendous lunch and then we left back to my village where my two uncles live with their families. One of my uncles is already dead.
My step mother and
father with the other members of his family
My step mother and father
As I stated earlier, my
village is situated at the foot of Alagalla rock so in order to reach my
village, one has to take the road which branches off from the bus route from
Rangamuwa (another village located on the Hatraliyadda-Rambukkana bus route). The road which leads to my village is mountainous so you have to climb about
one kilometre to reach a plain and then another kilometre to reach my uncle’s
house. We reached my uncle’s house around 4 p.m. and in the evening visited
some of my relatives who live in my village close to my uncle’s house. We spent
the night there and in the morning I was awoken by a loud sound which came from
the roof. It sounded as if someone was walking on the roof. I quickly went out
and to my dismay it was a monkey. My aunt said that a group of monkeys are used
to coming to the gardens of the villagers in search of food. Therefore, it is
very difficult now to protect any fruit from them. I noticed a quite big troop
consisting of 10 to 15 monkeys roaming over the tree tops around my uncle’s
garden in which coconuts and some fruits like mangos teen, mangoes and durian
have been grown. The only device the villagers use to drive away the monkeys
out of their home gardens is to light fire crackers or throw stones at them.
But since now they have got used to the sound of fire crackers, that device too
have become ineffective. Throwing stones at them with a catapult also seems
rather difficult since they can easily see someone trying to do it from above.
There were a few fire crackers which I lighted and threw at the tree where the
moneys were sitting. But I myself found that they were not disturbed or
distracted by the ear splitting sound. They were seen just staying there on the
tree tops.
Rangamuwa Primary School where I received my primary education.
My late uncle
My late uncle and aunt (aunt is alive)
Temple in my village
A small shop
I tried the next device too. There was a hand catapult placed in the same place where I found some fire crackers and this time my son too joined. I asked him to find small stones form the ground so that I could use them to shoot at monkeys with the hand catapult. I tried several times,
A hand catapult
But taking a correct
aim at a monkey was difficult because they stood on such a high branch of a
tree that the stone I shot from the catapult did not reach up to that height.
So we discontinued that and decided to get ready to leave for Colombo that day
morning. After breakfast, we left the house where we had stayed the previous
night saying them food bye and visited the house of my other uncle and told
them that we were leaving. On our way to the bus stop, we were given a ride by
one of my brothers who is a relative of mine. Later we took a bus to Rambukkana
and took the train to Colombo. A journey by train is generally enjoyed by all especially
children. We did not travel up to Colombo fort because it was convenient for us
to get down at Gampaha and take one but to Kaduweal and another to Koswatta where
our rented house is located. Around 1 p.m. we were able to get to our house ending
our two day journey to my village.
On the way to Gampaha by
train, my son (Gavindu) took several pictures of some places that we passed. They are given
below.
Another scene captured by
camera
End of another journey
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