Memoirs of the Brightside of the Moon

by Ginger Gilmour

  Cycles encouraging me towards the highest in me and passing it on to my children.

  CHAPTER 42

  THE LAND OF SMILING PEOPLE

  SRI LANKA TRIP

  1982

  Every year, two very dear friends, Mary and Melissa went on adventures to India, often with an entourage of friends. We had spent almost every summer and some Easters in Lindos together since 1973, during which time they shared all their stories. It had always been my wish to go with them, but I was either pregnant or was with David on tour. I had Sara in June and was in the process of weaning her when the opportunity arose that I could finally go on their next trip. Unfortunately, Mary said that she didn't think India was for me as my constitution was too weak. Her comment hurt since they always said that it would be wonderful for us all to go together one day.

  The disappointment set me back for a little while when it came to me that David and I could go it alone for he had some time off. So that is what we did once I was sure Sara was weaned and happy. We chose to go to Sri Lanka, formerly known as Ceylon until 1972. It is an island country in the northern Indian Ocean and was of great strategic importance since the time of the ancient Silk Road. What attracted me most is its nickname, The Land of Smiling People and its heritage is primarily Buddhist. Having been initiated into Tibetan Buddhism since our time in Los Angeles, the thought of being amongst thousands of people that found this ordinary was very appealing. There was a wonderful antiquarian travel bookshop, just off the Portobello Rd in London. I bought books about their culture and interesting sites to visit. I was totally vegetarian by this time and was relieved that I would not have a problem with that aspect either. To be able to have more of a choice on the menu than rice, salad and chips would be a luxury though I never complained about the limitation when eating out. I felt good in this way of eating so it became more of a social gathering for me. It became a way of celebration of friendship. Besides, I felt healthier choosing to be a vegetarian. However, it did cause problems with many in the meat and potato society.

  I wondered how it would be amongst a culture that supported this "Way of Eating." A culture that didn't snide at the thought. Most of the time, I felt as if I was on a battleground of insults and misinformed judgments. It was my litmus test when I look back at it. Something in me kept me committed. I knew it was the way to a healthier Life, at least for me. I was grateful that George Harrison and Olivia were friends because having a neighbor who understood was a comfort, a neighbor who had walked the path for much longer than I had.

  Another bonus that made the decision easier was that Dr. Sharma was from India and practiced Auyervedic Medicine and Homeopathy. So I sought his advice for our trip from a medical point of view. I told him where we were going and inquired about inoculations. He had another opinion. In other words, he was very adamantly against them and said that we did not need them. He felt strongly that inoculations lowered the immune system and there were remedies that he recommended instead.

  The Ayurvedic philosophy is to treat symptoms when they arise not before. In addition, he advised us not to drink water from the tap or eat anything raw like salads (most likely washed with water). Most of all wash your hands whenever possible. Luckily, this we already knew from Mary and Melissa's list of "what to do and not to do" that we gathered over the years. To hear it from our medical advisor who was born and raised in India put me at ease. We flew into Colombo and stayed a few days, travel guides in hand. Our hotel, built in the Colonial period was absolutely wonderful. Walking around in the hotel gardens, I noticed the gardeners all worked the soil and tended the borders squatting. Traditionally, the men wore sarongs and a shirt held up with a belt when working. The women wore colorful saris very similar to India.

  Having done yoga for years, I knew how beneficial it was to work in that posture, though very few Westerners could do that as a matter of practice. In addition, unbeknownst to us in our culture, the sitting in chairs has undermined our general health and posture. According to many alternative practices, the squat position keeps the energy flowing through our spine and our bodies.

  I had brought some art materials with me and my first water color was of the Sri Lankan sunset, from our balcony. There was a decorative balustrade forming the railing that gave a flavor of the time when the Portuguese and British ruled. As I recall, David immediately came down with a stomach problem and lay in the shadow of our bedroom while I painted. Perhaps it was because of the meat he had eaten the night before. It was hot and meat can go off easily. The locals, I am sure, have the constitution to deal with it. I was happy and relieved that throughout our trip I did not have any tummy problems. What I chose to eat and my remedies must have helped.

  Eventually we were on our way. It was customary for tourists to hire a taxi driver who would stay with you throughout your road journey unless you chose to stay a few days at various sites. I felt very at home as we drove along in the green rolling hills of Sri Lanka. The green glimmered like jade from the sun's rays revealing their bountiful shape. They were like the soft breasts of your mother offering safety and nurturing your heart. There was a very strong feminine quality about this country caring, protecting.

  Tea plantations were everywhere and are one of the main crops for export. It formerly was coffee until the country had a blight (disease) killing all the crops. Curiously, a farmer told us that the Brits bought the leaves and the Americans bought the stalks. No wonder the tea in the UK was so strong and ours so weak. Often, when in a restaurant in London ordering a cup of tea, I asked the waiter to wave the teabag over the water. I was joking, of course, but, truthfully, I would ask them for a single dunk of the teabag. Sometimes if it was appropriate, I would ask if I could do it. PG tips were David's favorite and many of our friends. It was too strong for me for many years. I have adapted, "Cup of tea, Love?" Sri Lanka is a famous and archeological reminder of a rich civilization dating back more than 2500 years. The brochures emphasized that there was a Cultural Triangle, which we could follow on our Sinhalese adventure. Most of the sites were further north. We traveled along the east coast and stopped along the way at a beach resort. We found a Sinhalese local newspaper in English that I remember reading on the beach. Most of the stories were happy. Many of the articles brought a smile to my heart, not clouded by all the world conflicts like ours. It was so different.

  As we went deeper into the countryside, the surroundings became littered with small huts with smoke coming from their chimneys. Beautiful people standing in the doorway, wrapped in colorful fabrics with their children at foot waving as we passed. They are an elegant people sylph-like in their sarongs and saris smiling from behind their dark eyes. Such a soulful presence filled the air everywhere we went. It seemed that they found happiness with so little. My most favorite city there was Anuradhapura. Its history goes back to 3 B.C., pre-Christ, considered the most sacred and developed city in its time. But it had been lost to the jungle until the 19th Century when some British explorers discovered it. Hidden within the jungle after cutting away the vegetation there it was. They thought they had found the mythological "Lost City." At present, it is quite restored and thriving. We decided to stay the night and found a sweet but modest hotel, which had mosquito nets over our beds. Something I, as an American, had only seen in the movies. I felt that I was within the movie Gandhi as I entered the room. It was sunset when we arrived so we ate in the hotel restaurant. I had veg curry; it was so good. Their spices were a mastery of blends that is so Indian. My taste buds floated from the cumin to the coriander to the garam masala and onto the vegetables, still crisp and fresh with other flavors yet for me to know. That meal was such a luxury.

  The next day I rented an old fashion bicycle and set off in the morning to meditate under the Bodhi Tree (sacred fig tree) while David slept. I wore a long khaki linen skirt and a short white cotton blouse with white espadrilles. I pulled back my hair in a modest ponytail, put on my straw hat and set off across the town bicycling back into history. The b
icycle had a little bell, was black, rusty on the edges and a straw basket. It was not too dissimilar to the one we had back in England. It was easy to find my way about the city bicycling around. Tourist maps were abundant and the people were extremely helpful.

  The Bodhi Tree in Anuradhapura is believed to have been propagated from the original Bodhi tree in Bodh Gaya, India. According to Buddhist texts, the Buddha, after his Enlightenment, spent a whole week in front of the tree, standing with unblinking eyes. This Bodhi Tree really interested me for while the Buddha was on his deathbed, he had resolved that a branch be taken to several places around the world. Ceylon was one. I discovered later there was even one sent to Honolulu, Hawaii. Nowadays one will find younger Bodhi Trees growing next to most Buddhist monasteries for it became a tradition.

  The original, called Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi was the most sacred Bodhi tree and known to cause rain to pour and heal the sick. It is written, that when an individual became ill, one of his or her relatives would visit the Bodhi tree to water it seven times for seven days and vow on behalf of the sick fora speedy recovery. The Bodhi trees that grew in Sri Lanka also had great significance in the history of Buddhism and I wanted to experience its sacred power. I felt fortunate to be able to do this for it was not from a book inspiring me to dream. It was real.

  One had to enter through a temple up many steps. The room was full of colorful flowers placed there as offerings with little candles and little bells tinkling. Women and children in their colorful saris praying to Buddha added to the picture. Most people gave honor to the shrine before going outside to meditate under the Bodhi Tree, which was in the back garden. It was full of devotees and tourists, so it was a challenge to find a place to sit in the shade. I was a bit shy and timid, as I stood out as a foreigner and a woman alone. Eventually, I found a place in the corner against the wall where I could sit and meditate, hoping not to be noticed.

  Normally, when I meditated, I did all my shopping lists, reviewed all my thoughts for the day, never until this day did this stop. I have no idea how long I had been there, but when I came back to the present reality, Indian women had surrounded me. They were in a circle staring at me smiling with acceptance. With approval, some were nodding their heads side to side in the gesture typical to their culture. Curious I suppose, of a western woman holding meditative focus without knowing they were there. One elder woman who was sitting the closest took my hands and put them in a gesture of a particular mudra. Pointing to me and then doing it herself while closing her eyes for a moment and speaking in her native tongue. The entire group of women began to speak as well. It felt like it was a welcoming into their culture.

  The leaves of the Bodhi Tree are very distinctive because they are in the shape of a heart. Many had fallen on the ground and I wondered if it was appropriate to take some home. I motioned to the woman, in a sort of sign language, if it was all right to pick up several to take home. I did't want to do anything that dishonored their culture or the moment. One was for Dr. Sharma, David's Mom and Dad, several other close friends and me, which I had framed for my meditation room. Symbolically, to this day my Bodhi leaf holds a special place in my heart. It reminds me of the first day I really meditated and found deeper peace.

  We went on to visit many other archaeological sites and treasures of Sri Lanka. With every day with every place we visited, Buddha statues of all sizes surrounded us. The energy of tranquility filled the air. The most impressive Buddhas were actually in a place called Polonnaruwa. In the 12th Century A.D., two sovereigns endowed the city with Buddhist sanctuaries, palaces and monuments placed within a triple-walled enclosure of a fabulous garden city. We came first to a standing Buddha of 7 meters. This was beautiful, but I was taken to my knees as we stood before a 14- meter lying Buddha. Its size made me feel very humble, not only from an artistic point of view, but also from a spiritual understanding of the power it represented. We stood there for a long while taking in the majesty of what we were witnessing.

  Next came Damhulla, the Golden Temple, which had over 100 steps to climb before witnessing its splendor. The Sri Lankan steps were a different height and width to steps in Europe. As Westerners, we had to find a different rhythm to climb them. Upon entering the series of caves, which was the temple, I was captured by the magnificent splendor of an era gone by. One gold Buddha after another lined the walls in the shadow of its cave, occasionally catching a ray of sunlight upon its form as we passed. Donating a Buddha or in fact, several was considered a way for the Royalty and leading sovereigns to gain support of the people and their treasured Buddha in the invisible world. This was the case at the Golden Temple. In fact, one of the sovereigns donated the 100 steps in this way.

  Our next adventure was to be in the Valley of Rubies, Nuwara Eliya. Our driver told us there was a possibility to go fly-fishing because the British colonialists in Ceylon first introduced Trout in 1882. Originally, the English built a Private Club House for them, now converted into a Hotel, called the Hill Club. It was truly of a British Colonial Flavor and further brought the movie Gandhi alive for me.

  The Power of the British Empire created an exclusive beauty at the cost of the people who served them. The waiters were tall and Sinhalese. They wore black uniforms and served us tea in white gloves. I traveled back in time as we sat outside under the umbrellas having High Tea and little cakes, the early evening smelled of exotic scents. As David read the newspaper, I sat dreaming under my straw hat as the sky was full of pale yellow butterflies who flew all around from flower to flower.

  We had a lovely night's sleep under the white sheets and big pillows with a circulating fan above. It was easy to surrender to this comfort. It was slightly cooler when we awoke and David wanted to go fishing to have a bit of home. The hotel arranged for us to have a guide who would take us deeper into the valley on foot. He would bring with him the necessary rods so David could have a go. Nuwara Eliya stream flows through the grounds of the Club and into Nuwara Eliya Victoria Park, which is the prime trout fishing location of Sri Lanka.

  We walked for miles along the path. I do not remember our guide's name but I do remember his face and kindness. He almost looked aborigine. His skin was the color of dark chocolate, deeply lined from years in the sun and his eyes were pools of heart. At one point there was a mist, he grabbed my arm and said for me to stay close. Apparently, to our left hidden by the fog was a cliff edge miles deep to the valley below. We would surely reach our demise if we fell. Eventually, we got to a valley where they would fish and I stayed up on the hillside to paint.

  I had a good view from there. The midday sun approached while I was held deep in creative focus. I had my little watercolor box, miniature brush and water container. I was in my element. Suddenly, from across the valley, near the jungle, came loud sounds of gorillas. I looked up to call out to David but they were gone. Time had passed by as the colors, tinted my paper. Quickly, I bundled up my things, holding up my long skirt and ran down the hill to where they were. Our guide (I do wish I remembered his name) said that there were no gorillas in Sri Lanka just monkeys. Well then, they were rather large monkeys to sound like that! I was in the grip of my imagination and fear. Gorillas in the Mist was not far behind, the movie did not come out until 1988.

  One thing I forgot to mention is that many of the Sri Lankans chew Betel Leaf in what they call a "paan" or "quid." As we drove along the countryside, many of the villagers waved and smiled as their mouths were drooling red. With eyes glossed over, they were not really present. It was a curious thing to observe. Where did their "smile" really go? I asked our driver why their mouths were so red. He said, "That's Betel Juice, Mar-am." Apparently, it is a mild stimulant and known for its medicinal properties. With or without tobacco it's an addictive psycho-stimulating and euphoria-inducing formulation. The betel quid normally contains a combination of substances, including betel leaf, areca nut, slaked lime, opium, and may contain tobacco and spices. It has adverse effects on one's health for regular users. Very often, the
ir mouths turn red and when they smile, they are usually without their front teeth. There is evidence that originally this was used both in ceremonies and had a highly symbolic value since ancient times. When it became an addiction is not sure, but there is a rise of oral cancer throughout the rural areas as a result.

  Down from Nuwara Eliya was a pilgrimage called Adam's Peak. The road to Adam's Peak took us past spectacular waterfalls as the road wound through the heart of some of the finest tea-growing country in the world. We stopped at one waterfall for me to bath under. I had never been under a waterfall so here was my chance. In my white dress, I waded out into the pool until I met the gentle waterfall. Its crystal water washed over me like silk. David waited at the shore taking photos. I did wonder if there was any chance to catch something from the water while I swam. I didn't.

  We had heard of a walk up to Adam's Peak that David wanted to try. By late afternoon, we found a hotel near where he could start his climb to Adam's Peak. It was something he was sure he wanted to do. The climb up consists of steps most of the way, about 5200 of them, would you believe? I couldn't. He was assured that there were plenty of rest stops along the way. The estimated time it would take him to get to the top would be 2 1/2 to 4 hours. A 2:30 a.m. start would easily get him there before dawn. It would be just in time to see when the historic "Shadow of the peak" takes place. At the top, there are some breathtaking views across the surrounding hills. Steps lead up to the sacred footprint, on top of a 4-meter rock. Pilgrims cluster round, throwing offerings into the 1- meter hollow before moving to the Saman shrine, up another flight of stairs where thanks are traditionally given. Pilgrims, who have made the trip more than three times, then ring one of the two bells at the summit, each chime representing a successful ascent. Each climb brings special blessings.