.

People and Events
Eliyen Andurata

by Nan
I have been living the life of a paradise in a Fool’s Paradise these last couple of weeks.

I was amused originally when I read in the Sunday Island and another Sunday paper that a statue was being erected at Muthurajawela to deflect or out-stare a malevolent gaze coming our way from across the Palk Strait. To hoodwink the public and camouflage the true intent, the statue was to be an addition in a religious complex. The Minister of Cultural Affairs and the Deputy Minister of Defence presumed, I suppose, that people would sing hosannas unto them for building temples of worship for each of the four major religions in an area clearly demarcated as an ecosystem preserve. But here they were wrong, I must humbly and fearfully say. People do NOT want more temples, kovils, churches and mosques. There are plenty of them all over the country. It is true religiousness that is lacking, not places of worship.

Stare wars

If you remember (which you won’t), I requested readers of the Sunday Island a couple of weeks ago, to make clear to me whether talk of the massive building project was a joke, a leg pull, an alarmist’s unfounded cry or a politically motivated lie - plenty of which float around, thick and ugly.

I realized soon enough that it was a dead earnest project and 600 million rupees were being collected fast and furiously. I got cold shivers down my spine, fear in my heart and an irrepressible urge to giggle at the monstrosity of the idea that the war was to be won on a star wars plane with a statue newly build in Paradise over powering or outstaring a malevolent look sent our way from South India.

Then in true, blue Sri Lankan style I forgot this very important matter of public interest. I presumed, again in true, blue SL style, that the project had been shelved. I thought that sense and sensibility had prevailed - sense to spend 600 million in a better way or else not milk it from the business world; and sensibility towards people’s opinions and outrage at the idea.

The Q & A programme with Ven. Gangodawila Soma Thera on Monday 12th renewed cold shivers down my spine, heartache at stupidity and anger at crass stubbornness. The project seems to be firmly in place and already started with no idea at all of abandonment. The belief apparently continues unfazed that the war can be won for the Sri Lankan government by a god.

From darkness to light
Since the readers of this column may not have tuned into the Anduren Eliyata TV programme on ITN on Monday or are unable or unwilling to listen in on a Sinhala discussion, I wish to repeat the points made by the venerable monk, given added weight by psychiatric and psychological analysis foundationed on the Buddha Dhamma by Dr. Harischandra. People should know, people should show the perturbation felt, people should protest, people should be vigilant, people must not allow 600 million precious rupees to be squandered on a whim and a fancy. I repeat, we have more than enough places of worship. We do not need even one more. But we DO need hospital wards, classrooms, equipment for these, well stocked libraries, computers in schools. Spend 600 million on these or else stash it away in gold for public use. I hasten to add, not private pilferage.

Ven. Soma Thera observed that the statue building project is going on, will not be abandoned in spite of public opinion since what some VIPs want, will be got; what some VIPs wish to do, will be done. Stubbornness is apparently a trait of some VIPs.

Facts and consequences

Point one that emerged from the wise words of the monk was that the war in the north was now to be won by a stare of a god. Thus it was apparent that the Deputy Minister of Defence was admitting defeat and the incapability of the government’s armed forces to defeat the LTTE fighting cadres. Now isn’t that terrible? But correct since if the occult is to be resorted to, then it is an admission of defeat in the mundane military plane.

Point two was that the important gods of the Hindu pantheon, though benevolent, seemed to turn a deaf ear and blind eye on turmoiled Sri Lanka. How could we expect them to solve our biggest problem for us? See, said the good doctor, did the all powerful Kataragama god do anything to save that most unfortunate beauty queen as she was stripped, shamed, shot at several times and then buried alive., almost on the god’s doorstep. Surely he said, the god could have sent at least a thunderbolt on her torturers.

God Vishnu and others radiate metta, so how could they now be made to have a staring contest one with the other, to save Sri Lanka from the continuing terrorist/separatist menace?

Point three was that once the war was over, all the credit would go to the god who stared. The soldiers who were maimed both physically and psychologically, who died, would be forgotten and victory hosannas sung to the Hindu god. Gratitude would be to the god and not to all those who laid down their lives, or gave the best years of their lives for their country. Two large colleges in Colombo recently held memorial ceremonies for past pupils of the schools who had died in battle. All these would be forgotten and gratitude extended to a god who apparently won the war for us by deflecting stares from across the Palk Strait. Thus it would mean that Buddhists became Hindus. Metta, karuna and ahimsa would be thrown overboard. If a Hindu god saves our country then we needs must venerate him. The venerable monk had sharp words for those who stubbornly held to the view that the statue would win the war . He wondered why protests were not readily forthcoming from the religious VIPs of our country.

A listener phoned in to supply the answer. Gifted Benzes had silenced the highest. Not so, countered the venerable monk. The cars were gifted; they were returned or at least the receivers said they did not need them and could not afford the taxes and their upkeep. But the government insisted they keep the luxury cars. So the monk did not want a tying up of the lack of advice and protest from the Mahanayakes to gifts they had received.

A soldier phoned in to say that all that they had done and the immense sacrifices made by them were as nothing.

Why aren’t we ordinary people told exactly what’s with the Muthurajawela project?

* * * * *

By any other name will not be the same

Another blow to our national pride. These blows seem to be raining in on us thick and fast.

The so familiar name, its associated jingles, and the logo of our national carrier were changed and the changes unveiled at a big bash (extravagantly expensive of course) for 700 persons at the Hilton. So wined and dined (or well stuffed with short eats) they would have accepted the changes with ne’er a murmur of protest.

Why the change? What are the reasons for the change?

It was bad enough when Air Lanka was sold and now it will be all changed. Changes are no good when brand names are well known and have sunk into minds and memories and the quicksand of big business.

Why is it, I ask in all seriousness, that any big change/promise/project by the government is now viewed with suspicion by the thinking man and woman, the country-proud, loyal, national- minded person?

This name and logo change, with a costume change to follow is viewed by me with deep suspicion . I hope I am proved wrong and that the change will benefit our national carrier and thus our country. But I have serious doubts since the change was wrought with secrecy and sprung on even the high ups in the Ministry, according to news reports.

I mourn the passing away of Air Lanka. The name tripped off the tongue and had carver a niche for itself not only in Sri Lankan hearts but in those of foreign travellers as well. Sri Lankan Airlines sounds so clumsy in contrast. I thought the new logo was OK but the change totally unnecessary, until a colleague said it was like a diyabariya and a near architect said it was horrible. We had a good reputation and people queued to get Air Lanka tickets. Even when troubles started and the ‘planes were usually late, passengers forgave inconveniences because of the excellent in flight service. Now what will it be? How long will it take the new name and logo to catch on and latch on, in the terribly competitive world of air travel?

And what of the costume change? The girls will wear blue for sure and will they be veiled? Will the men stewards have to wear a band and checked cloth around their heads?

Sell the family silver and with it your soul!

Unity in diversity need of the hour

Speech made by Zarook Marikkar- President of Rotary Club of Colombo West on the Installation and the Launch of Programme for Peace - "Rotary Uniting Sri Lanka"

To be elected as the President of this largest and the most prestigious Rotary Club in this country is an honour I accept with humility.

It is ironical that I joined Rotary 16 years ago in 1983 just prior to my return to Sri Lanka. I have lived through this period of 16 years, the most violent period, in our nation’s history and watched with dismay, as the people of Sri Lanka continue to pay an enormous price for not resolving the ongoing ethnic conflict.

Having witnessed at first hand, this agony, I feel that, during my year, my Club should embark on a project away from the ordinary. A project that will have an impact on our society, a project that could contribute towards uniting Sri Lanka and help bring peace and harmony to this hurting land of ours.

I have such happy memories of my school days, as have all of us here tonight, where we have grown up as equals, amongst the multi-ethnic communities. We have never for a moment thought of the race of the individual before making friendships. Friendships that even today have lasted all through our adult lives. This distinguished gathering here tonight is a good example.

All of us have our own faiths and knowledge; this should have taught us tolerance, understanding and reasoning. We are not ignorant, in fact as a nation we are admired for our high literacy levels and diverse cultures.

With such a society, the path to unity and peace is possible and is a reality if we work hard for it. Our forefathers worked together as one people of one nation in our quest for independence.

But sadly today, we think, each of us is different. And our difference is more important to us, than what each of us Sinhalese, Tamil and Muslims have in common. Be it customs, traditions, rituals, habits, music or food. We would rather fight for the sake of our difference, than, use what we have in common and bridge the difference.

I believe that, majority of the people of Sri Lanka today are for peace and co-existence and they don’t want war or to hurt each other, our own brothers. Our problem is nowhere as serious as the Irish problem. No one, not even an Irish, will ever understand their problem. We must thank the lord that ours is solvable.

The affects of the conflict, should not only be counted in economic terms and loss of life, but the scars that it leaves behind, the deterioration of human values, the other problems that have crept in when we are pre-occupied with the armed conflict, problems such as high rate of crime, violence, kidnapping, rape, armed robberies and killing for few thousand rupees. The overall breakdown of law and order.

We in Colombo live in an insular world; we cannot just sit and watch this plague ruin the future generations. our children’s future.

The government in my opinion is trying to bring an end to this conflict. But they cannot do it alone. They need to have the support of all the other political parties.

Our political leaders must rise above party politics and have the will to solve the crisis of this national magnitude, that not only affects us now, but will for the generations to come and will haunt us for ever.

But this mantle does not rest on the politicians alone, it is up to the people of this country, all of us, we must lobby and demonstrate to the political parties and all other groups involved in the conflict including the LTTE, that we need peace. We need peace now.

Very often I have heard people say "it is not my problem". It does not affect me, and I cannot do anything to help solve the problem. This is a wrong attitude, as the problem belongs to all of us. It is our duty to contribute even in small measure to finding solutions. We can and we must.

In our country Temples, Kovils, Churches and Mosques stand side by side; do our people object or protest? Show me a country where this uniqueness exists.

I have grown up playing in the grounds of the Beligammane temple, which is next to our ancestral home. We have as Muslims walked in the perahera; the Sinhalese population of our area has participated in the festivities of the Muslims.

Look around, how many Sinhalese are married to Tamils, Christians to Buddhists, Muslims to Sinhalese & Tamils the list goes on. So what is our problem? This is what has made this country so rich in culture and diversity.

Can we fight our own people? Can we deprive them of their right to life and aspirations? I say No: Instead they can contribute to the success of this nation. How many Sinhalese run to a Tamil doctor or a Tamil to a Sinhalese doctor when in sickness? Do we bother if he is another race? No.

During my visits to conflict areas in the North, I was very disturbed to see first hand the sufferings of the people. The Tamil civilians in particular who are suffering untold hardship in the refugee camps, which are struggling to provide basic facilities to the inmates.

The hundreds of children I saw, whom have been deprived of basic education and health facilities, many severely malnourished really broke my heart.

I know it’s the same in the border villages, where the Sinhalese & Muslim population have faced the same fate. I was more convinced than ever that our programme to build unity and peace through Rotary was essential.

The many soldiers and armed forces personnel I spoke with were also going through many hardships and uncertainties. Most were young men from poor rural homes, who had joined the forces for economic reasons.

It struck me then, that we in Colombo have no idea just what these young men and women endure, the fear, the uncertainty... many I spoke to spend days in trenches exposed to wild animals, insects and the threat to life and were looking forward to the day when peace would return, so they could start planning their own lives to live like all of us do.

I too have personally suffered due to this conflict having had my property destroyed by bomb attacks, not once but twice, both causing me untold financial losses.

My derelict building, destroyed by the Central Bank bomb in Janadhipathy Mawatha stands in its bombed state, as an icon of the type of economic loss this country and its people have had to endure these past 16 years.

But I feel no bitterness. Instead I am even more determined in my quest for Rotary to take the lead, not just our club, but to involve every Rotary Club in the country to help us in this enormous task.

The task of building those broken bridges, to heal the deep scars of suspicion and mistrust, that exists among our diverse ethnic groups, through mass educational campaigns, peace conferences, travelling exhibitions and interpersonal communication programmes at every level.

Achieving better communication and understanding among the different ethnic, religious and cultural groups and sub groups will eliminate the suspicion they have for each other.

We must educate every citizen of Sri Lanka to make them understand, the issues, the huge economic costs and the need to find solutions that would foster justice, fair play & racial equality at every level of life.

We must emphasis the importance of the need to remain as one united country, after all, our fight is really with the global market place. Ironically, when nations who have strongly differing languages, different food, differing religions, different cultures, different systems of government, strongly differing political doctrines and laws, fought bitter wars, against each other, just 50 years ago are today getting together to become a single economic powerhouse, with one currency and one passport like the European Union.

We hardly have a case for separating a tiny nation like Sri Lanka. As one united country we can achieve so much more. As one united country, we can significantly develop the quality of life of all Sri Lankans in the new millennium. A country with such potential and diversity in so little a land mass. It is strange that it is this very diversity that is threatening to tear us apart.

Our planned communications programme will educate and address the people across the length and breadth of Sri Lanka with these messages. We plan to launch our programme with the National Unity Conference at the BMICH September this year.

I am sure Hon. Minister will recall my request six months ago for support to invite President Nelson Mandela as the chief guest at our conference, you confirmed that the government would endorse the efforts of my Rotary Club.

I have been in regular contact with President Mandelas’ and other world peace leaders offices. I was pleased to learn last week that, the LTTE has said that they too are approaching President Mandela.

I call upon Rotarians, Rotary Annes, Innerwheelers, Rotaractors and Interactors across the country to join hands with us in our quest for peace. Let us together sow the seeds of change in the hearts of our people.

Let us, together, build a nation, that can live in harmony where all are equal, where all are united, a country that we can safely bequeath to our children, the inheritors of this land of ours.

In this struggle, there are no enemies. Everyone must be considered a potential partner, and the task is to constantly engage in dialogue and negotiate with those engaged in the culture of violence, we should not give up, until they join in to work for a culture of peace.

There are no winners and losers in the quest for peace. Both must be winners, it is the only way to ensure long lasting peace.

Many of you may ask, why should Rotary get involved in a project of this nature? Let me tell you, Rotary is an organization that has waged war and triumphed. Not a war of arms, but a war against Polio, which was a scourge in this world, that killed and maimed hundreds of thousands of people, these past 50 years.

Our Rotary Club started the Cancer Society in Sri Lanka; today it is an independent body, contributing to the society in a big way. SLANA started by Rotary Club of Colombo has been given UN recognition.

My aim is to make this new programme "Uniting Sri Lanka" a National project for Rotary. Many Presidents of Rotary Clubs I have spoken with have extended their support. Some of them are here tonight.

So what better organization, that, is non-political, multi-racial, multi-religious than Rotary to take the lead in this initiative, to be the catalyst in helping unite Sri Lanka to achieve long lasting peace?

In conclusion, I would like to leave these thoughts with you.

Over 85,000 people have been killed, over hundreds of thousands injured and maimed for life, having lost their limbs and eyes. Many more are bereaved, left widowed and orphaned and unemployed.

People have become refugees in their own country, having been forced to abandon their homes. Currently estimated at 650,000. Many others Tamil and Sinhalese have been traumatized by the violence and have left the country, believing that Sri Lanka holds no future for them and their children, resulting in a growing brain drain from this country.

The economy is paralyzed. The loss of GDP alone over the 16-year period is a horrendous amount of Rs. 2,840 Billion (US $ 41 Billion) in 1996 prices.

Money needed for our welfare, education, health services, infrastructure development are being wasted on the war, turning our citizens into war victims.

The morale and ethos of our existence, of our culture and civilization, have been devalued. Insecurity and continued violence, have traumatized children, women and men.

As we approach the new millennium and the new Rotary year ahead, let us resolve to build on our dream and help shape a better nation for the children of our country.

I very strongly believe, there is no such thing as a conflict that cannot be ended. They are created and sustained by human beings. No matter how ancient the conflict. No matter how hurtful. No matter how hateful, peace can and must prevail.

May God bless this nation and all its people.

f
Housewives on strike!

By Cecil V. Wikramanayake
So the doctors went on strike once again. Patients were dying, but then, as a senior health administrator said "People die. It can’t be helped !"

We have had all kinds of people going on strike, for a plethora of reasons. Nurses, led by a Buddhist monk, have gone on strike. Doctors are now on strike, and this appears to be becoming a disease that even doctors cannot cure. Clerical hands, manual workers, bus drivers and conductors, you-name-it-they’ve-done-it, everyone has gone on strike. Except housewives.

Suppose housewives were to go on strike, can you imagine what would happen to the dreadful state of Lanka ?

Talking to some doctors recently at a launching of a book that promises to be the answer to every housewife’s prayer, I popped the question to a lady doctor and to the wife of a doctor. I will call them Hema and Krishanthi, because they did not wish me to divulge their names in anything I wrote, and I promised faithfully I would not.

Dr. Hema told me "I am a doctor as well as a housewife. No. I am not on strike, because I am not a member of the GMOA. I do not think it is right for doctors to take out their grievances with the government on the people. On the sick people, whom they are supposed to attend to. And as a housewife, I would say that a strike by doctors does affect every housewife, because she invariably has children, and these children invariably fall sick and have to be taken to a hospital."

Dr. Hema was enthusiastic about the idea of housewives going on strike. "It would be a good lesson to everyone, if we, housewives went on strike and refused to do household chores in our homes. Just think of the panic it would cause in every home."

Mrs. Krishanti chimed in with "Yes. It would be a good thing if doctors’ wives went on strike. Teach their husbands a good lesson, to be hoist with their own petard, no!"

I shuddered to think what would happen if all housewives went on strike, and refused to do what is normally expected of a housewife. Picture the scene at home, when you wake up and she refuses to make you your morning cup of coffee or tea.

"I can’t darling, " she tells you. "I’m on strike from today!"

"What are you striking for" you ask her.

"Shorter hours and better pay"

"But, darling" you reply. "I give you my entire pay packet every month. How can I give you better pay when I don’t get anything more than that?"

"Well then, "she comes back. "Shorter hours"

"Doing what?" you ask. "You are at home the whole day. What do you want shorter hours for?"

"Well," she tells you, "I am on strike from today, anyway."

And you have no answer. No wonder some poetaster once wrote:

"Vain is the hope by any force or skill

To stem the current of a woman’s will.

For if she will, she will, you may depend on it.

And if she won’t, she won’t , and there an end on it."

Housewives are the only kind of working people in this country who have not gone on strike so far.

Strike action was once described as the last resort of any trade union, when everything else has failed. Perhaps a strike by housewives would give their husbands, all workers no doubt, of every kind of category, a taste of their own medicine.

Perhaps it might be a good idea for all doctors’ wives to give the lead by coming out on strike till their husbands’ grievances were settled.

A go-getter housewife of my acquaintance, Mrs. Indrani Peiris of Ratmalana has suggested that "We housewives should get together and form a union. It will be the biggest union in the world, I’m sure. Then, when we have formed our union, we can plan to go on strike, just like these doctors have done, till we get what we want."

I’m afraid Indrani is the kind of woman who is quite capable of forming such an union, and if and when that happens, heaven help us, poor males!

But that would bring about a quick and effective solution, don’t you think ?

Mrs. Pulimood and her successors made Visakha what it is

By Sumana Saparamadu
Dr. Malini Dias, Director Epigraphy and Numismatics, Department of Archaeology, will deliver the Susan George Memorial oration at the Jeramias Dias Hall, on July 23, the birth anniversary of Mrs. Pulimood, Principal of Visakha Vidyalaya from January 1946 to July 1967.

Mrs. Pulimood’s connection with Visakha goes back to 1941 when she joined the staff and taught Botany and Maths to the matriculation form. She and her sister Ms. Joshua were the co-authors of ‘A Text-book of Botany", the standard text used in school until the complete switch over to the mother tongue.

Mrs. Susan Pulimood’s 22 years as Principal saw great changes in the school. The Grade II school she took over in 1946 was raised to Grade I a year and a half later and given Super Grade status in 1957. The introduction of science into the curriculum was the first impetus to Visakha’s journey forward and ultimately to the top.

As Visakha’s pass-list at public examinations increased, so did the numbers seeking admission, and in the fifties the school expanded to the right into the land bought from the Kathiresan Kovil and to the left to the "Keuneman Bungalow," after the passing away of Justice A. E. Keuneman (father of Pieter Keuneman).

The staging of the Visakha Geetha Natya to mark the school’s 40th anniversary was a landmark of the Pulimood era. Composed by Sri Chandraratna Manawasinghe and set to music by Samaradiwakara, the most outstanding musician of the day, it tells the story of Visakha Devi after whom the school is named. No other school can boast of her own play as Visakha Vidyalaya can.

The vesting of the school in the State in 1960 was a parting of the ways for the Principal and the Manager who had worked very cordially and with clear vision to make Visakha Vidyalaya the leading girls’ school in the island. Paying a tribute to the retiring Principal, the former Manager N. E. Weerasooria wrote in 1967, "In the golden era parents stood in queues to admit their children to Visakaha." They still do for Mrs. Pulimood’s successors have maintained the standards set by her and taken the school to greater heights. Visakha was one of the first 18 schools to be given "National School" status about 10 years ago.

As in the past 8 years, this year’s oration is also by a past pupil of Visakha. Mrs. Dias is the first woman to be appointed Director Epigraphy and is Editor of Epigraphia Zeylonica which was once edited by Dr. Senarat Paranavitarna. A Fellow of the Council of Archaeology she has participated in archaeological conferences in Sri Lanka and abroad and chaired some of the sessions.

In Sri Lanka women have not taken up epigraphy. Had Malini Dias not chosen Sanskrit, a new subject on the advice of Mrs. Pulimood as one of the subjects for her University Entrance, and read Sanskrit, Pali and Sinhala at the University, with special permission from the Dean as students were not allowed to read only languages for the degree, Mrs. Dias may not have been selected for the post of epigraphist which was advertised soon after she graduated.

Pollution of the Kandy Lake

by C. Santiapillai & Padma K. de Silva,
University of Peradeniya

Kandy city, despite its small size, relative isolation and picturesque setting in the hills, has an uncanny ability to grab attention only when embroiled in a scandal. Last year it was the apparent ease with which the sacred Dalada Maligawa was bombed. Then came the systematic destruction of our roads in anticipation of the Prince who never came. Now comes the big stink over the polluted waters of the Kandy Lake, referred to as "Kiri Muhuda" (Milky Sea) in the past. The stench emanating from the lake is so foul and unbearable that one leading girls’ school had to close its sessions recently to ensure the sanity and health of its pupils. The "Kiri Muhuda" has curdled into the "Goo Muhuda"

The lake, built about 200 years ago, by King Sri Wickrema Rajasinghe as a labour of love, although using forced labour, and meant to be the cynosure of the eye has become an eye sore. The lake is dying through our abuse, indifference and neglect. It has often been looked upon simply as a dumping area for much of the domestic waste. Sri Lankans in general are characterised by private affluence and public squalor, and this is nowhere more evident than in the vicinity of the Kandy Lake, which has become a large, open sewer. Outside our homes, we seem to tolerate things compatible with ugliness. As Ogden Nash wrote, "There’s been a lot of progress since I was young, but it is going in the wrong direction".

In any lake, animal and plant wastes are decomposed by bacteria, which convert them into inorganic materials, carbon dioxide, phosphates and nitrates. These nutrients are in turn utilized by plants as they are essential for their growth. The green plants restore oxygen to the water through the process of photosynthesis. It is this mutual inter-dependence of plants and animals on one another that allows nature to maintain the purity of water and its ability to support life. But there are indeed limits to the versatility of any lake, even one built by a King. Such a complex cyclical process cannot be sustained by the lake in the face of a steady influx of organic substances in the form of raw human turds. When the system is over-loaded, something dreadful happens. This is precisely what has happened in the Kandy Lake. The daily outpouring of untreated organic wastes into the lake from nearby hotels, hospitals, houses and guest-houses, has seriously destroyed the ability of the lake to recover. The organic wastes that reach the lake are attacked and broken down by bacteria, using oxygen in the water, releasing nitrates and phosphates. This enrichment of the waters is known as "eutrophication". Eutrophication caused by the discharge of raw sewage and excess fertilizers from farm lands outside into the lakes and rivers is known as cultural eutrophication as opposed to industrial eutrophication, which is brought about by the discharge of industrial wastes containing excess nitrates and phosphates. Phosphate is usually available in small quantities in natural waters and therefore becomes the limiting factor for algal growth. When the phosphate concentration increases, it will lead to a prolific growth of algae, leading to the formation of algal blooms.

The algae use the excess oxygen at night. When there is an algal bloom, it depletes the oxygen dissolved in the waters, in the night, so drastically that the fish and other aquatic organisms suffocate and die. When the algal growth exceeds the carrying capacity of the lake, the algal population would crash and die, thereby adding to the burden of the bacteria, which have to decompose the other dead organisms and the raw sewage as well. Some species of algae could release toxins into the water, and algal toxins are harmful not only to animal life, but also to humans using such waters. The bacterial decomposition of organic matter releases obnoxious gases such as hydrogen sulphide, methane and ammonia, whose combined stench in Kandy town has even removed the beggars off the pavements. It also depletes the oxygen dissolved in the waters, and anoxic conditions develop on the bottom of the lake. Phosphates from the dead organisms accumulate in the lake sediment, and is released slowly into the water under aerobic conditions. But under anoxic conditions, this release can increase a 1000 fold, thereby making available large quantities of phosphates for the algae to repeat the vicious cycle.

Another serious culprit which causes eutrophication is detergents, whose chemicals are totally indigestible by bacteria. They are therefore non-biodegradable. As the well known US environmentalist Dr. Barry Commoner, the one time Director of the Center for the Biology of Natural Systems at Washington University (USA) once pointed out, all synthetic detergents contain considerable amounts of phosphate builder, which accumulate in the surface waters, and promote the growth of aquatic plants, leading to the production of algal blooms. It is the algal bloom that gives the Kandy Lake its lovely green colour and the nasty stench. The lake has come to symbolise an attractive woman with halitosis. The Lake also offers a deadly cocktail of disease-causing organisms. In the lake, even the fisheating birds look rather sick and mean. The discharge of untreated sewage into the lake from posh hotels is primarily responsible for waterborne diseases such as diarrhoea, cholera, typhoid, paratphoid, dysentery, hepatitis etc. Name your waterborne disease and you can catch it by simply wallowing in the muck. Furthermore, as the excess water from the polluted lake finally end in the Mahaweli ganga, via the Meda ela, there is also a potential risk of infection from drinking water, which is tapped downstream along the Mahaweli ganga. In Europe, the river Rhine is so polluted, that the Swiss used to joke that what they flushed, was drunk by the Dutch. (a Swiss joke is no laughing matter!).

Lakes are not immortal and they too go through a process of birth, life and death. With time, a lake will begin to fill with silt, sediment, and organic debris. Unless the accumulating silt is periodically removed, aquatic plants will be replaced by plants suited to dry land once the silt replaces water, and with that the lake will die. In natural situations, such a process may take thousands of years. But in Kandy, man is accelerating the process, and already the lake is dying. The raw sewage discharged into the waters will undermine the lake’s natural potential to cleanse itself. The stagnant water also promotes anoxic conditions. The Lake which was once very popular with both tourists and locals, is no longer suitable as a recreational amenity because of the stench and squalor. The Kandy Municipality has indeed enlisted the assistance of scientists, engineers, and irrigation specialists to clean up the Kandy Lake. It is unfair to blame the Kandy Municipality alone for all the ills of the city. As far as the environment of Kandy town is concerned, law and common sense appear to have parted company long ago. The strong do what they can, while the weak suffer what they must. We are in trouble not because our technology has failed, but because it has succeeded well. The luxuries of the rich have become the necessities of the poor. We are characterised by our conspicuous consumerism. Our three main religions are Buddhism, Hinduism and Tourism. The city cannot cope with the congestion brought about by people and automobiles. The cleaning up of Kandy Lake is a gargantuan task, which would fail in the absence of tough laws to curb the abuses of the polluters.

Cultural eutrophication can be prevented by (i) diverting sewage from the drainage basin, (ii) changing agricultural and residential development practices in the drainage basin, and (iii) drastically reducing the concentration of phosphates and nitrates in the inflow through proper treatment of the water. The third option offers perhaps the best hope for the reduction of the eutrophication of the Kandy Lake. The key to maintaining an ecologically healthy lake in the heart of Kandy town is strict control on what people put into it. Sewage should not be allowed to enter the lake. The use of phosphate containing detergents should also be prohibited within the drainage basin. The priority is to ensure that all the hotels, hospitals and guest-houses process their waste before it reaches the lake. If this is not done, the same problems will continue to plague the lake in the future. One way of ensuring that the hotels comply with these regulations, is to urge the tourists, through an appropriate NGO, not to patronize those hotels that openly flout environmental laws. Hitting the pocket is the only way to ensure that the polluters pay. As John Kenneth Galbraith has written, the only way to run a city for the people is to disregard false economies, to rise to a higher efficiency and economy and to build, no matter what the cost, a city that people will love to look at, a beautiful city. But this may perhaps be asking for too much in Kandy.

Gullible’s Travails
At the School by the Sea

By Cecil V. Wikramanayake
It was while I was at Central College, Batticaloa, that Dad decided, for reasons I do not know, to send me once more to boarding school. I was to go, in the last term of 1937, along with my elder brother to S. Thomas’ College, Mt. Lavinia.

My memory fails me as to how I got there, but there I was in Claughton Junior, given a bed between Robert de Saram and a little chap about my size named Fozard, who had some connection with the Roskowskis of the Hotel Nippon, then called The Polski.

In the dormitory were the brothers Saravanamuttu, Baski and Chandri, Reggie Stonehewer and some others. Our housemaster was the Rev. Cyril Abeynaike, later to become Bishop of Colombo. I was put into the Lower IVA, along with Vernon Prins, Hector de Witt, Stanley Kalpage and others whose names I cannot now remember. Vernon and Hector I remember well because when they were in the Police department, I was a stenographer there.

I remember Stanley Kalpage for two reasons. He could wiggle his ears, and he was always well ahead of all of us in his studies.

That first day as a Thomian is one I will not forget. Elephant House at that time used to sell Ice Palam (3 cents) and Sno-Palam (5 cents) through a man on a tricycle. In the dormitory, just as we had settled in, we heard the bell of the Ice Palam man. Going to the road that runs between the College and the Big Club ground — De Saram Road it is now called -the other boys suggested I would like to see the swimming pool, on our way to the Ice Palam man. I did not realise that this was part of the initiation of a new boarder.

Suspecting nothing, I walked along the edge of the pool towards the deep end which was nearer the road. I suddenly found myself pushed into the pool. I always had a sneaky feeling that the

pusher was my own brother, who was then schoolboy diving champion, both spring board and hard board.

Willing hands grabbed me as I spluttered and came to the edge of the pool, dripping wet. But that did not prevent me enjoying the delicious Ice Palam treat.

The next day in school, I found my class-teacher was E. L. Perera, affectionately known as Keyhole, a man I came to respect and love. Although he often told me "I’ll march you up to the Warden" he never ever carried out his threat. The last time I saw him was on his 80th birthday, when all of us, his pupils, attended the birthday party. That was the first and last time too that I saw Stanley Kalpage since I had left S. Thomas.

I challenged him at the party to wiggle his ears. He had not lost that amazing ability, as he promptly demonstrated !

Throughout my term in Claughton I was pestered with a cough which Rev. Abeynaike called a "Balu Kessa" because it sounded like a dog’s bark. Despite being sent to the doctor several times, the cough persisted throughout the term, so much so that Rev. Cyril, who later married a relation of mine, Fidelia Samarasinghe, wrote in his "Housemaster’s report" about me "This boy is too frail for the strain and stress of boarding life..."

In later years, when he was Bishop and I, as a young reporter, had taken part in the first expedition to the Knuckles Range — then the only virgin forest in this country — I met the Bishop and reminded him of what he had written about me.

"Errare est humanum" was the terse comment of His Lordship !

Towards the end of that term Dad had written to me to say that I should travel up to Kandy, go to Trinity College and meet Uncle Sonnie, Sam Elhart. I was to sit an examination there for a "Boarding Exhibition."

It was my first trip alone. I went. There were about 15 to 20 others sitting the examination. Having sat, answered the papers, been interviewed by Rev. R. W. Stopford and told that if I won through I would be admitted to Trinity, I took the train back to Mt. Lavinia.

During the holidays, Dad received the news from Trinity that I had come first and had been awarded the Boarding Exhibition, which meant three years of free board and tuition at Trinity College, Kandy.

The first term of 1938 I went from Batticaloa, alone, to Kandy, by train and was admitted to Squeallery — the place for boarders between Junior School and Upper School. My first buddy here was Leonard Stanley Jayawardena. Rudra Rajasingham, R. Rajaratnam Maxwell Edward Tucker, John Bois, and Surat Singh were some of the other Squealers. Rudra and Surat were new boys, like I was.

The three years spent at Trinity were the most eventful, for it was the longest period I had spent in any one school.

(Next. Memories of Trinity )

Orugodawatte shanty-dwellers save crucial petroleum pipeline

By Chittaranjan De Silva and Niresh Eliatamby
Dhammika awoke to the sounds of someone pounding on her door.

"Dhammika. Dhammika. Come quick. The petrol pipeline is burning and your husband is badly hurt,’’ a neighbour screamed at her as she opened the door of her hut.

Dhammika ran out, joining a stream of fellow shanty-dwellers who were rushing towards a blaze towering up from the ground.

With horror, she saw that the fire was at a manhole on the fuel pipelines of the Ceylon Petroleum Corporation. Thick black smoke streamed above wicked yellow flames.

The smell of gas hung heavy in the air, clearly indicating that one of the lines had been punctured.

As she got there, a friend told her that her husband, H. K. Jinasena, had already been rushed away to hospital in a 3-wheeler by neighbours.

Looking around, 29-year-old Dhammika saw a group of shanty-dwellers trying to fight the blaze by bringing a hose and buckets of water.

"No. No. Don’t use water. Use sand,’’ she yelled at them.

For 15 minutes, the residents of Weheragodella fought the fire which was threatening to engulf and consume their poverty-stricken neighbourhood, known to them as "kambi-kotuwa-watte.’’

Miraculously, they managed to contain the blaze, preventing the flames from reaching the other four fuel lines which were only a few yards away.

Thankfully, help was not long in coming. A squad of policemen manning a checkpoint on the Low-Level Road, half a kilometer away, rushed to the scene.

Not knowing if the blaze was an LTTE attack or not, the policemen had already alerted the police command room by radio, which in turn had called in the Fire Brigade.

Barely 20 minutes after the fire started, the first fire engine arrived, escorted by air force personnel. Within minutes, their powerful hoses had doused the flames.

The near disaster at 2 a.m. on Monday brought to light a key chink in Colombo’s armour which few of those responsible for Colombo’s safety like to speak of: the miles of underground fuel pipelines that reach from the port to the Kolonnawa oil refinery, carrying different types of oil and gas.

Police are tightlipped about the incident, but say that two or three shanty-dwellers used a drill to bore through one of the pipelines, trying to siphon off some of the precious liquid gold that passes through it.

Their plan was to collect the liquid in cans and buckets that they had gathered. Once these were full, they would close up the small hole, sell the night’s takings to area merchants, and come back again another night for more.

They had first drilled a small hole, but in the dark they were unsure of whether they had drilled deep enough.

With two of them standing in the manhole, one lit a match.

Unknown to them, a small amount of gas had already leaked out of the hole they had drilled, and filled the bottom of the manhole.

As the match was lit, the gas exploded.

Both Jinasena, 39, and his colleague, Chandradasa, who runs a small shop in the shanties, were burned horribly over much of their bodies. It remains to be seen if they will recover.

Police suspect that there may have been at least one more gangmember, who escaped in the ensuing pandemonium.

The pipelines were repaired the next morning.

Officials of the Ceylon Petroleum Corporation are thanking their lucky stars that the gang didn’t drill into the line carrying petroleum, which would have caused a much bigger blaze and turned the area into a disaster zone.

"We don’t want to publicize the location of the pipelines because security cannot be provided along its entire length,’’ said I. M. S. Illangakoon, Working Director of the Ceylon Petroleum Corporation. "Most of the line is underground, but in a few locations it is vulnerable.’’

Most policemen at the Grandpass Police Station, in which area the incident occurred, were surprised to hear of the existence of the CPC line.

"We didn’t even know it was there until this happened,’’ said one officer.

For the shanty-dwellers, the incident rekindled nightmarish memories of the LTTE attacks on the Kolonnawa and Orugodawatte oil installations in 1995, which had been right on their doorstep.

This is also not the first time that gangs of shanty-dwellers have been caught trying to tap the CPC line. Three years ago another gang was nabbed after having filled a house near the line with barrels of oil.

Dhammika still hasn’t come to grips with the incident, in which she helped to put out the fire which her husband had started.

"I can’t believe he would do such a thing, as steal oil from the pipeline. I don’t know if he will recover, and if he does, I don’t know if we want him back in our house,’’ she muttered.

A Canadian Catholic, attracted to Buddhism
The fascinating story of Jamie Zeppa

by Kirthie Abeyesekera
A Canadian Catholic, attracted to Buddhism, chose Bhutan to teach English, and returned home with a six-year-old son sired by her Bhutanese pupil.

The fascinating story of Jamie Zeppa and her nine-year adventure in the Himalayan hills, is now unfolded in her book’ ‘Beyond the Sky and the Earth - a Journey into Bhutan’ An oil lamp flickers beside a bronze Buddha statue in her modest Toronto apartment. Even before I have removed my jacket, Zeppa suggests a cup of tea.

"Asian hospitality," she flashes an infectious smile.

Of mixed Italian parentage, Zeppa was disillusioned with the faith of her forefathers early in life. Her questioning mind found it hard to accept Catholic dogma.

"The Buddha’s exhortation to his disciples, not to accept what he said, but to study his Teachings appealed to me," Zeppa observes. Her book is prefaced with a quotation from ‘The Thirty-Seven Bodhisattva Practices:’ ‘You must leave your home and go forth from your country. The children of Buddha all practice this way.’ Other Buddhist scriptures are also reproduced in her book. Zeppa started reading books on Buddhism, and yearned to know more about it and the people who lived by it. She obtained a Master’s Degree in English literature from Toronto’s York University, but was not content with academic knowledge.

"Life in Canada was so insular," the brunette with the sparkling brown eyes told ‘The Sunday Island’ in an exclusive interview. "I had not travelled. I knew so little. I knew there was much more to life than the small North American world."

Her chance came when the World University Service of Canada was looking for English teachers for Asian countries. She asked for Bhutan ‘Because it was a Buddhist country." She got it. So it was that in 1989 at age 24, she left a broken-hearted fiance, Robert, for what turned out to be a ‘Voyage of Discovery.’ From affluent Canada with all its material comforts, life in Bhutan was hard at the start.

"There was no electricity, no running water, no vacuum cleaner, no nothing," she smiles. ‘ Add to all that I was terribly homesick for the grandfather I had left behind." She panicked, wondering how she’d survive in the strange land. "I cooked on a kerosene stove and washed my clothes in a bucket of water." Physically and mentally it was a tough life.

"Once I got used to the daily routine, I started looking around." Then she found the mountains, the scenic splendour, and "above all, the beautiful people of Bhutan" who made her feel completely at home, "in a very Asian way." She got accustomed to ‘Dzongkha’ Bhutan’s main dialect of which there are 20 different types. She enjoyed exotic Asian food.

Her work at ‘Sherubtse’ (peak of higher learning), College brought her closer to the people. "If there is a Paradise on earth, this is it," she said of Bhutan. In two years she had fallen in love with Tshewang Dendup, her student, six years younger than her. He was a brilliant student. But no, she says with a twinkle in her eye, "I had no say in his pass marks in English, because the papers were marked elsewhere".

In 1993 she bore Dundup a son. They named him Pema Dorji. He was nine months old when she married Dundup. For the wedding ceremony, "We wore matching clothes - a ‘gho’ and ‘kira’ cut from one piece of red-and-gold cloth woven by his mother."

Her marriage to a Bhutanese broke her grandfather’s heart "He did not like my being a Buddhist, and he did not want me to leave Canada in the first place, because he believed it to be the best place in the world." Her marriage devastated him, although she was received with open arms by the Dundup family. Zeppa dedicates her book to her grandparents.

In 1996, an essay on her ‘culture-shock on arriving in Bhutan,’ published by ‘Saturday Night’ magazine won her a literary award. The intriguing story of her love-affair with Bhutan and her pupil landed her a book contract.

A blurb writes that her story "abounds with the wonder and discovery of Bhutan, of herself, and of Buddhism." The book is also being published in America, Britain, Germany, the Netherlands and Spain. It is said to be an ‘exotic and romantic story - an exhilarating testimony to the transformative power of travel - if one’s mind and heart are open to it.’

"I always wanted to be a writer," says Zeppa. She says there’s much to write about her experiences in Bhutan - a land of warm, friendly people whose hospitality knows no bounds. She’s also taken in by the Asian concept of ‘sharing’ - a rare commodity in North America.

It is said that "from the pristine, heart-crushing beauty of the landscape, to the celebrations and sorrows of its people, Zeppa conjures and captures the true spirit of her unforgettable pilgrim experience." The book is hailed as "a classic tale of discovery and adventure, and a love story between a woman and a country, a people, a man.’

Zeppa is considering a novel - the best way to tell the rest of the story. In the meantime, she’s trying to re-settle in Canada, the land of her birth she returned to last June. She finds it harder to re-adjust to "my so-called home," than it was to adapt to life in Bhutan. She walks her little son to school and back. Yes, he misses his father who is now a broadcast journalist, "fluent in English."

Jamie Zeppa is at the crossroads in her life. Ten years ago, she left a lover behind in Canada. Now, she’s left her husband in Bhutan.

"We are geographically separated," she says, "but we are one." He is due to visit her and their child this summer. But will he want to make Canada his home? or, does Zeppa want to return to Bhutan? These are the burning questions they are tormented with. Is the land of one’s birth necessarily home? she ponders. Where then, is home? I ask her. A moment’s silence. Her eyes are moist.

"I don’t know. I’m trying to find out."

| NEWS | PROVINCIAL | POLITICS | EDITORIAL | DEFENCE | LEISURE | BUSINESS| SPORTS | ADS |