Them thar hills
The retreat I am staying in is up in the hills, five hours drive
from Colombo (or 8 hrs train) . There are lots of birds - more than I have ever seen in one place before, and monkeys carry on all day. I looked up from my desk one day to see one trying to come in to check out the food situation. I have to hide my mobile phone from him. Everyday I go on long walks up the hill behind the house. It's very steep, about 300 metres up over 600 metres, on stone steps through a tea plantation. I arrive at the road up top in a lather of sweat and looking very pink. The tea pickers, who are usually half my size, twice my age, and showing no sign of sweating at all think I am most amusing. (Well actually, ridiculous). There are leeches and I am nursing a couple of wounds which wont go away. They are most disgusting creatures. One of the other writers at this retreat told me he once got 70 leeches on his leg, so I suppose I shouldn't complain.
Most days are writing, except for the walk, and then a beer at sunset sitting on the verandah of the main house and looking over the hills onto the plains. The first night I arrived I watched a storm sweep over the plains and then slow down, and finally dissapate as it hit the hills. It was a beautiful sight and the first time I felt like I'd really arrived here - it always takes a few days. It is the dry season up there, and the wet season down in Colombo so it felt amazing to watch the two seasons dissolving into each other/ crossing paths.
The Sri Lankan upper class is very formalised, and that has been difficult to understand and get used to - though an interesting challenge. When we eat with our host, the estate owner there are bells for servants, and a full uniform for the cook, Raj, who usually wanders in bare feet. (I tried to get the very shy Raj to tell me how he made a very delicious Beetroot Salad. Beetroot? I asked. A nod and mimed grating. Coconut? Another nod then, encouraged by my questions, an enthusiastic attempt at english: 'and onion and tomat . . .' Then he lost confidence mid-sentence and that was that. With all the bell ringing and being bossed around I'm not surprised. Raj has, he told me, two ladies: a five year old lady, and a one year old lady.)
I am a terrible disapointment as I am not a scholar of fame, but just some young (well, baby-faced) creative writer worrying about western buddhist nuns and getting excited by stories of Robert Knox (one of the basis for the Robinson Crusoe story) and Leonard Woolf (he lived here for 10 years) when, stories about the latter two, are as common as our ANZAC day stories and slightly old hat. But that said, being surrounded by people who know the history of this island so intimately has been a real treat and honor, so I just accept my lowly status and learn stuff.
Posted by Sophie at 07:21 PM