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Unfolding the mystique

by Prasanna W. Jayewardene

Nallur Kovil above and the Jaffna town

After a lapse of almost twenty years the need for me to visit the north and east, for the purpose of business arose and as soon as the cease-fire agrement was in place, I did so in the last couple of months.

Having visited both Jaffna and Trincomalee as a child, my visits to Passikudah had only been as an adult, when tourism was beginning to take off in the nineteen seventies. All these places had a mystique created in my mind, and I suspect in the minds of many of my generation born after the Second World War and all before, until the internal strife, which commenced in the early nineteen eighties.

As an adult I visited these places all over again and the mystique unfolded into impressions and memories of wonderful places of tranquillity and beauty, laced with the diversity of varied seafood, endless beaches and so much else which formed the base of colourful images embodied in the way of life of the people who lived there.

Jaffna, where I was fortunate enough to spend time from Good Friday to Easter Monday last month, and the impressions crystallized in my mind thereby, compels me to shape my thoughts.

Jaffna College

While impressions are always personal and, I must admit to being biased when it comes these parts of the country and the people, as much as the rest of the country and the people. The obvious process of living and the way it was gone about was a revelation. The signs and effects of a prolonged war almost four times as long as the two world wars, was evident. The devastation and destruction, wanton as war had dictated.

Difficult to look at, difficult to digest and difficult to accept, as these reminders in different form were, the people and how they were and their presence was what dominated. In a backdrop of a land, laid waste, buildings destroyed partially or totally, agriculture marginalized and infrastructure in shambles, the people stood out seemingly unbowed, unbroken and definitely dignified.

Vehicular traffic being very limited, a small number of old cars, some motor cycles, a few three wheelers and many bicycles were the mode of transportation of the civilians in Jaffna. That the people literally rode "high in the saddle" very straight and self-assured was exemplified by the youth, especially the girls, who wore caps often and rode on the uncrowded roads. Clothes which were similar to those in other parts of Sri Lanka gave no impression of shabbiness or dowdiness, rather of elegance which matched the open faces and ready smiles.

Politeness and welcome devoid of any trace of subservience was another impression from Jaffna, Trincomalee and up to Passikudah. Admiration pushed its way into the conscious and kept growing with each experience shared even in small measure, with the cross section of people from Passikudah, Trincomalee and Jaffna.

So many acts of kindness, not really deserved and unsolicited, were not impressions, they were the facts behind these visits. Graciousness naturally meted out to this obvious Sinhalese who spoke so very little Tamil, who never felt like an outsider.

From a minister and his wife, a Chief Secretary and his wife a Poosari and the devotees, shopkeeper, communication centre operator, waiter, vendor, the man on the street, the welcome and warmth was heartfelt. A willingness and desire to communicate with openness was part of the reason for the feeling for ease, comfort and serenity which I felt so much so that I caught myself walking back to my accommodation in Jaffna at the YMCA from the restaurant almost a kilometre away, well past ten in the night, in the dark of a power cut. The sounds and noises were familiar, the people in the dark houses intangibly linked to me.

While travelling from Habarana along the Trincomalee and Passikudah roads, apart from the fact that both sides of the road have been completely cleared of all trees, plants and underbrush, the impact of the presence of members of the armed forces at regular intervals on foot, in vehicles or at guard posts is overwhelming. In Jaffna, from the time of clearing Palaly airport, the presence of armed forces personnel, their accommodation and vehicles are also dominant.

The very few check points were invariably manned (sometimes by women) by courteous, well behaved personnel of the armed forces. The soldiers in Jaffna always had the time to chat in Sinhalese, welcoming the outsider to Jaffna.

I could discern the animosity between the forces personnel and the citizens. I could only see people reaching out, happy I had come, and asking me to return. Over fifty years after I had lived in Vavuniya as a toddler, (since the work I have been engaged in has forced me to travel both inside this country and outside, living in a total of ten countries), I felt I had come back to the home, within my home.

The horrors of the recent past need to remain just that, its past and its attendant horrors. But there will be no forgiveness for any of us, if once again we allow through indifference, injustice, complacency and any other reason, that these my people of the North and East be set against those my people, of the rest of this magical isle.

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