Resorts Magazine

contex ts, though many resent American imperialism. You can safely leave bags in cars—no one would steal them. My driver was surprised when I told him it ’s the opposite in I taly. We buy twent y bottles of spark ling water at a supermarket; a store clerk loads them in the trunk . Such cour tesy is customar y here. They assure me towns and villages have regular waste collec tion—indeed, the streets are relatively clean, incomparable to I ndia. No intestinal problems from water. Aside from some awful toilets, hygiene levels are good. No bidets in hotel bathrooms, and no toilet brushes. Ever y hotel closet has an umbrella. No true darkness at night—lights ever ywhere: T V, Wi‑Fi, A/C, smoke alarms, elec trical panels—no shutters or blinds, only light filtering cur tains. A detestable global trend that disrupts deep sleep. Despite heat and humidit y, they make beds like in St. Moritz—with duvets—likely a British legac y. Except in Galle, there are ver y few restaurants; tourists eat in hotels—usually at steep prices. My driver says Americans tip most generously ; among Europeans, Brits lead, then French and Spanish; recently, I talians have become stingy. Worst are I ndians, Chinese, and Japanese—no tips at all. I witness tea produc tion: meticulous and complex. Sri Lanka grows black , green, silver, and gold varieties. Many drink it bitter and snack on solid caramel bars made from treacle. The worker explaining machiner y says their ovens run on wood—proud demonstration of a different ecological mindset. Buddhist and Hindu women work as farmers, as fac tor y workers, salesgirls, waitresses, secretaries; they marr y around 20–22, generally have two children, choose their husbands even against family judgment—but adulter y means immediate divorce. Islamic women marr y around 18, have five or six children, can’t choose husbands, rarely work outside the home. Though the population is largely dark-sk inned, all billboards feature only light-sk inned faces. There are no dark-sk inned ac tors or models. Dark- sk inned women go to great lengths—creams, pills, concoc tions—to lighten their sk in, sometimes risk ing health. I’ve seen elephants grazing beside roads, peacocks on roof tops, cows on leashes, crows circling a coconut, frogs hopping before doorways, mice running in my hotel room, monkeys attack ing tourists, squirrels in churches. Despite the humidit y, insec ts are rare. Laundr y takes days to dr y. Sri Lanka—the Democratic Socialist Republic until 1972 called Ceylon—is separated from southeast India by Palk Strait. Shaped like a tear drop, it covers over 65,000 km² with more than 21 million inhabitants. Sinhala, an I ndo -I ranian tongue brought from nor thern I ndia in the 5th centur y BCE and later blended with indigenous Dravidian influences, is spoken by 75% of the population. I t sounds sweet and musical, almost like song. I ts 56 cur ved letters derive from ancient palm-leaf scripts. The alphabet comprises the main śuddha sinhala for native phonemes and the smaller miśra sinhala for writing Sansk rit and Pali. Literar y Sinhala was codified in the 13th centur y with the Sidatsangarava. Numeral symbols fell out of use in the early 19th centur y with the introduc tion of Arabic numerals. Tamil is also widely spoken, especially in the nor th. This civilization has endured Western barbarism, preser ving—except in Colombo’s Peta distric t—a precious silence not found in Europe, where blaring tribal music shatters eardrums…and souls. The Persian tale The Three Princes of Serendip, first published in Venice in 1557, tells of three young men who made pleasant discoveries by accident. Serendip was once a name for Sri Lanka. Serendipit y indeed accompanied my entire journey—just as it of ten does when we walk the paths of life and the ribbon of future and thought unspools in the same direc tion we move. SRI LANKA 110 R ESORTS M AGAZINE