Memorable days with Ambassador Subasinghe

THEATRE: Just as Breck had told me our Ambassador in Moscow at that time was a great guy. Breck introduced me to him the very first time I visited the Embassy at No. 32, Ulitsa (street) Schepkina. The Embassy was housed in a quaint old building - I believe coming from the pre-revolution days.

The place had a kind of warm atmosphere about it, in spite of the outside cold. Perhaps its original occupant may have been one of those full blooded vodka (or cognnac, or both) guzzling Russians of a 'higher' order! Yes, even among the Russians, or among the Muscovites, to be precise, there are several levels of society in spite of socialism.

This of course I found out by and by - I was there, in the Soviet Union, for six long months - most of it during a rather heavy winter. Let me speak about such things later.

Mr. T. B. Subasinghe, the Ambassador was a very friendly and jovial person. Some times he covered his joviality with a serious disposition. I thought it must be because he was one of the long lasting socialists of our country coming from an extremely respected family down Sandalankawa. I could be quite wrong of course.

My first visit to the Embassy was on a Saturday. The Ambassador and his family lived upstairs and the office was downstairs. That was a very convenient thing for all concerned - except, perhaps, for my good friend, Breck. Breck was a bit of a late riser and was often a late comer to office.

Mr. Subasinghe, as I later learnt, was very fond of him and appreciated his enormous knowledge of world affairs and his talent of dealing with people. Yet, being a stickler for time, he was somewhat annoyed with Breck for this lapse of breezing into the office, a trifle late.

There is a rather nice incident about this matter that the Ambassador's wife Mrs. Lolitha Subasinghe used to relate with subdued laughter. It seems that one morning, our friend Breck, was summoned to the Ambassador's office for a little heart to heart - or rather brain to brain - discussion about this little lapse on Breck's part. It goes rather like this.

Being a jovial person, the Ambassador had chosen to start on a jovial note. "I say Breck.." He had begun. "You are an incorrigible fellow!" Breck had been late that morning too. "Yes, Sir." Was Breck's reply. Ambassador Subasinghe, who least expected a reply of this sort was trying to hide his mirth.

"I say Breck, what can I do with a fellow like you who turns up late to work?" was the next question from the Ambassador. "I don't know Sir, I am trying to figure it out myself, Sir..." Breck had responded, perhaps looking at his shoes. Mr. Subasinghe could hardly conceal his mirth by this time, and according to Mrs. S, that was about the end of the heart discussion!

Mr. Subasinghe, as I said, was a very friendly person. He too had seen some of my plays. In any case he was a great admirer of artistes. "Henry, come up and have a little pot luck for lunch with us." He said very casually.

"You can meet my wife and the two girls too." I did, go upstairs, rather gingerly though, and was delighted to meet a very affable Mrs. Subasinghe and two pretty and totally 'Moscovised' teenaged girls in Sweenie and Sarojini, I say 'Moscovised' because they were already students of a local Moscow school (and not any 'International' hotchpotch), spoke fluently in Russian and was rather fond of showing off the ballet steps they had learnt there.

Sweenie, the elder was more subdued, full of courtesy and trying to look older and wiser. Sarojini, the younger one was a bit of a show off, posturing in ballet like stance wherever there was an opportunity and she was absolutely sweet. Every time I bump into Saro, mostly at some stage show or something like that, she reminds me of what I had written in her autograph album at that time.

'Dear little Saro, I wish you remain the same sweet little girl, always.' I still wish if it could have been so! Now, a lawyer or some such thing with the Central Bank, and a mother, she has now turned out to be, well, ahem, a 'fuller' woman.

Sweenie, or Winitha to be exact, became a stage actress almost by accident. I was rehearsing 'Mother Courage' way back in 1972 and she used to come to watch the rehearsals at the Chitrasena Kalayatanaya. She had come to be very fond of the stage and often was a quiet observer. With Mother Courage, I tried double casting, for the first time. So, the title role wasplayed by Manel and Somalatha Subasinghe, Yvette by Mallika Bodaragama and Ophelia Gunasekera. The Chaplain by Wijeratne Warakagoda and Fitzroy de Mel. I had been looking for a double for Kattrin, the dumb daughter of Mother Courage. I was rehearsing Sunila Abeysekera for the role who was pretty good.

Then one day I noticed our Sweenie, seated in a corner and watching and her sensitive face struck me as a certain possibility for another Kattrin. As I expected, she was superb - in fact both of them were.

Today, our Sweenie has turned out to be a much sought out Designer, Choreographer, Costumer and Special Effects Artiste for the Sinhala stage as well as the English stage. What is most touching is that she still carries her quiet dignity wherever she goes, whatever she undertakes, and she does her assigned work to perfection. I can't imagine that 42 long years have gone by since I first met the two little girls!

I became a frequent visitor at the Embassy. All my letters were sent care of the Embassy and there was a reading room with our newspapers as well as Russian newspapers such as 'Pravda' and other publications, both local and Ceylonese.

Lots of Ceylonese students from the Lumumba University and other Educational Institutions in Moscow were frequent visitors at the Embassy because of this reading room. I came to know many of them. Oruwala Bandu, well known as a poet even during his Lumumba days, has now turned out to be a prolific writer of novels and a senior journalist.

Jayantha Premachandra, who left us a few years ago, was a painter and sculptor even at that time. I believe he has held a couple of exhibitions too in Moscow, at the 'Dom Drushba' - House of Friendship.

Most of the Ceylonese students who studied either at the Lumumba University or elsewhere have done extremely well in life. Some of them have sought greener pastures - more likely thicker pay packets and better job satisfaction - in other countries.

Now that I am in the Embassy premises, let me speak about some of the men I befriended there. There was Tissa Jayakody, first secretary, I believe, a much respected career diplomat even at that time.

He already knew several languages, including Russian and was considered to be a shrewd negotiator. He was just the opposite of younger Breck, not given to much small talk, prim and proper and rather unfathomable. Then there were Gerry Gunasekera, Ananda Tillekeratne and Wijedasa.

Gerry was the senior administrative asst. and Ananda was the junior one. Wijedasa was stenographer. These three were of totally different temperaments and character, but got along extremely well. Gerry and Ananda had their families with them. Their wives Florrie and Ranjani were fine cooks.

I should know because I was invited for a dinner every now and then with one of the families. There was an office aid, whose name I cannot remember now, who had managed somehow to marry a Russian girl - quite a difficult feat at that time. He was rather proud of the fact. I wonder where that family is now. A real villager by the name of Appuhamy was watcher plus odd job man of the Embassy.

A very kind man, he was very fond of Breck and Breck in turn was very solicitous towards him. Appuhamy used to invite both of us, meaning Breck and I, to his little flat and give us a good dinner with real home cooked food. Being alone in Moscow, he considered me also as a bachelor.

Ambassador Mr. Subasinghe had a driver, a man from Reggie's village, who was called by the name 'Ukkuma'. He was quite a clever fellow who had not only learnt the very strict road rules of Moscow in next to no time, but even a fair smattering of the language. Being a handsome chap, he was known to be quite a 'Romeo' too!

One good lesson that Vasily gave me was that I should not stay indoors, scared of the cold, but that I should brave it and do a lot of walking - with the correct clothes of course. I had already bought myself a solid pair of winter shoes which could withstand the snow. I had the winter cap given to me by Reggie, which was a winner all the way.

The heavy overcoat given by Chitrasena was also quite adequate. I had some special (long) under pants too given to me by Dr. Sarachchandra. Clad in all this 'warmery' it was in fact a pleasure to walk in the snow. The distance from my hotel to the Embassy was about two kilometres. First couple of days, I ordered a taxi for the journey. Later, I ventured to walk the distance and found it to be quite an invigorating exercise.

There is a nice little incident that happened during this walk that is worth writing about. I had to pass a fairly moderate park in between, on the way to the Embassy. On certain days, although there was snow all around there would be bright sunshine too. Such days were special for the Moscovites, especially if it was a weekend.

Young men and women would gather in the park and enjoy the new snow and the sun, just like we would enjoy a sunny day in a park. And some of them were not all that well clad either. The Russians, especially the younger ones like to 'challenge' their winter, so to say. In fact Russian literature is full of such bravado by their heros and heroines.

This particular Saturday, as I was walking through the park, my head held high, treading the crunchy snow underneath, I clearly heard someone call me. "Tavarish" (comrade) the voice said. "Idi Suda, Tavarish....!' (Come here comrade) When I looked in the direction, several hands were waving at me, summoning me closer.

They were a group of young chaps, who had cleared a bench of its snow and was seated merrily on it. As I approached, they smiled broadly and one young chap was holding a bottle towards me - I knew it was a bottle of vodka. "Davai, Tavarish. Eta horoshi dyen.....!' (Have a drink, comrade. It's a nice day!)

I must say that was one of the nicest and friendliest drinks I have ever had. Once I gulped it down, they gave me a little mineral water in a rough paper cup which too I gulped down gratefully to get the burn off my throat. And then one chap pulled something like a dried fish out of his trouser pocket and offered me a bite.

It tasted salty and smelt like our 'jaadi' - if you know what I mean. Later, I came to know - I think from Oruwala Bandhu - that it was some kind of special 'taste bite' that goes with vodka. After the drink, I was patted on the back, after they knew I was from 'Tsylon', and sent away. Walking in the snow after that drink, I somehow felt a couple of inches taller!

Thought of the week

I wonder if this country - at least some of its responsible men - are going 'nuts'. Going by what the newspapers report about the statement of a Sports Ministry official (its Secretary?) about declining to congratulate our Gold medal winner, Chintana Vidanage at the Commonwealth Games, I am seriously thinking of going to a psychiatrist, to verify my own sanity.

Here the man glibly says that he 'would have looked a joker' had he gone up to congratulate our Gold winner. The President himself had personally congratulated the young man in glowing terms.

One thing that these 'officials' (who, in any case, are far in excess of the number of athletes competing, always) forget is that they are there, because of the athletes! One can see on TV screens, men, women and fellow competitors hugging and kissing the winners in boundless appreciation.

Whether there were 'officials' among them, I do not know. George Orwell put it quite succinctly, when he said that 'All are equal, but some are more equal.....!' Our man, perhaps was one of those 'more equal' guys?

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