A Sunday stroll in the Colombo City
LEISURE: The day started with an early-morning text message from my
nangie, "Ruah akka, kohomada? Apita oya matakai." I rolled over in bed
and text my little host sister back that I was doing fine and I was
thinking of her and the family, too.
The relative lack of noise outside my Dematagoda flat reminded me
that it was Irida (Sunday). I looked at the silky blue sky and thought
of what I would do on a day like today in my hometown, New York City: a
Sunday stroll.
I had a free day and with my usual busy schedule, this was not
something I had done before in Colombo. Other than on Galle Face Green
and Independence Square, was this a common Sunday pastime for local
residents? I thought I would try it out and see.
But first, yoga. I stared out the window while practising my morning
sequence of asanas.
Forty minutes later, I sat crossed-legged on my yoga mat for my daily
morning meditation using the Transcendental Meditation technique I
learned years ago. I concentrated on my mantra and wondered what the day
would bring.
Travelling southwest towards Town Hall in the shade of my purple
umbrella, I remembered a website about yoga classes in Colombo.
I flagged a three-wheeler and took it to Global Fitness Centre on
Jawatta Avenue in Cinnamon Gardens.
I hoped to meet the lawyer turned yoga teacher I had read about. As a
yoga teacher and graduate student myself, I felt I may relate to her and
even make a new friend.
The teacher was not in town, but I was given a tour of the gym with
modern equipment and A/C rooms including the well-lit yoga studio. I
took a copy of the schedule and pencilled-in a yoga class to attend
later in the week.
The sweet smell of rambutan fruit sold at roadside stands was
irresistible all along the quiet and shady Reid Avenue. I bought a few
to crack open and enjoyed the savory taste as I continued walking.
As I approached a junction, I noticed Laksala, the government
handicraft store. I followed along the entryway lined with wood
sculptures and flanked by two long reflecting pools.
Inside, the scent of leather and wood was soothing as I explored the
aisles lined with beautifully crafted works (I purchased a small wooden
Buddha).
Stepping back into the warmth of the day, I ventured back onto
Bauddhaloka Mawatha, and not too long after, sought refuge from the heat
in a small boutique clothing shop, Wild Flower.
They had lovely shoes, bags, jewellery and some interesting clothes,
too. I spotted a pair of pinstriped men's trousers and was reminded of a
conversation I had with my older brother on an internet phone call.
He had recently bought a new pair of trousers at Banana Republic, a
well-known American store, which happened to have been made in Sri
Lanka.
In the store, I reached for the pants to inspect the label and, to my
surprise, saw they were from... Banana Republic, only the price was
literally ten times less than what my brother paid in New York!
Continuing west, I reached Duplication Road and turned north. I
walked several streets up and saw the Queens Cafe and Cricket Club.
I turned down Queens Road and found myself in front of the elegant
Gallery Cafe. I walked through the parking lot to a charming entry way
with a reflecting pool filled with large fish, and purple and yellow
flowers, the whole scene soaked in sun peaking through the partially
exposed roof.
I then perused the gift shop noting some similar items as the other
craft stores at a somewhat higher cost. I decided to do something very
typical of "New Yorkers": Eat by myself! I entered the impressive dining
area and was seated in a booth.
I ordered the special, tuna steak with salsa verde, aubergine, tomato
and mozzarella. It was not typical Sri Lankan food, but was extremely
tasty nonetheless.
The room began to fill with locals, filling about 15 of the 120 or so
tables. To my right, two Sri Lankan-looking women in their 20s sat down
to eat and spoke in American accents about the wedding they were
apparently visiting Sri Lanka for.
I chatted with a group of pilots and flight attendants for Etihad
Airways at the next table about different flight paths and their plans
for the limited 24 hours they had in Colombo.
Around 3 pm, I ventured back onto Duplication Road and visited
Fashion Bug, and then Beverly Street.
The bags and shoes of Beverly Street were so magnificent - I am sure
that if the store was transplanted to a busy street in New York, it
would be sold out in a matter of hours.
Although the store was quite filled with people, the street was
practically empty, as it had been most of the day. This allowed for
three-wheelers speeding down the road to do U-turns to get next to me.
They wanted to be sure that when I didn't respond to their solicitous
honking I indeed did not want a ride. They seemed shocked when I
responded each time with "Isthuthi, mata epa. Mama awidinawa." "No thank
you, I'm walking."
I continued walking towards Dharmapala Mawatha to turn east with
hopes of making it to Odel's Juicebar. I couldn't resist stopping at
Paradise Road.
This shop and cafe is a larger version of the Gallery Cafe store
filled with a plethora of crafts and art. While the prices are on the
high end for Sri Lanka, they were a fraction of what they would be in
New York or other western cities.
Though my legs were beginning to feel somewhat numb, I was determined
to make it down the road. Odel's Juicebar was crowded as I enjoyed a
refreshing carrot and mango juice for 100 rupees.
I smiled and waved at the group of Etihad employees I had seen
earlier. I also chatted with a classmate I ran into while getting juice,
who had just spent the day at the museum with friends.
Soon, though, I excused myself to start the walk home. I only made it
down a third of the way of Ward Place before I finally agreed to take
one of the many three-wheelers honking and flagging me down.
I arrived at my front door and heard my roommate welcome me home as I
walked in. I could see on the dining room table a pink envelope covered
colourfully with the familiar words, "Ruah Akka." My 15-year-old host
sister had sent a letter with a classmate who had come to Colombo!
I opened it to see drawings of flowers, stars and hearts surrounding
Sinhala text. As best as I could, given my limited knowledge of the
Sinhala alphabet, I examined the letter and envisioned her writing it
all with a smile.
I noted to myself to ask for help from Manjula, my trusted classmate,
friend and Sarvodaya worker.
I washed off the soot that covered my tired feet and returned to my
yoga mat, where my day had begun. I opened my windows to listen to the
sound of Buddhist priests saying the pirith prayers over loudspeakers of
the pansala adjacent to my flat.
I watched the sky turn to hues of grey as I sat cross-legged with my
spine upright. My mind slowly settled as thoughts of the day and streets
yet to be explored came and went.
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