Kirulapone market, New Year and cleanliness

By Ravi Perera

The closing of the nearby shops for the New Year holidays required me to visit the Kirulapone Market, which serves a large segment of the population in the southern part of our Capital city. Driving to the place was unusually pleasant due to the lessening of the traffic during the holidays. The market itself was partially closed except for a few vegetable and meat stalls. There were only a few customers about.

The vegetable stalls are housed in a large, dimly lit, open-plan building.

Running across its cracked floor are several open drains from which cockroaches and rats frequently emerge perhaps particularly emboldened that day by the absences of the regular throng. It was evident that many food items including what ever is leftover from lunch packets end up in these drains from which emanate through the day the smell of putrid water.

Some where in the middle of the building I was assailed by even a more sickening smell which was unbearable. A hurried investigation revealed open public toilets, a mere two yards from the vegetable stalls, and right by, a few filthy steps which led to the meat stalls, only a couple of yards away.

The area, which housed the meat stalls, was buzzing with large aggressive flies determined to keep away any others wanting to share their meal.

Giving up the idea of purchasing provisions from this much spoken of market I went home to find solace in a TV Programme showing an unhurried New Year celebration in a village setting. Here every prospect was pleasing. On a shimmering green field smiling young men and women dressed in colourful attire were indulging in distinctly unchallenging leisure activity.

Towards elderly persons in the vicinity they were extremely respectful. Most of the decorations and sporting equipment in use at the village green that day appeared to be bio-degradable save a certain amount of plastics. The food itself looked delectable although little too rich in oils and sugar perhaps.

If this tranquil scene is typical of our cultural expectations, the Kirulapone Market represents our urban reality. The same people who idealize the country virtue of biological harmony have also created the cesspit like markets from where they purchase their foodstuff.

Kirulapone Market is sadly not an exception. Even our rural markets are not shinning examples of food hygiene. It seems where ever we have traded in food on a commercial scale little thought has been given to the cleanliness of the processes.

For most, the word culture means only unthinkingly indulging in rituals and artistic practices. But obviously every thing that is done regularly by a given group of people can fall in to the broader definition of what they are about.

The ways in which human beings procure and consume their food surely constitute a very vital aspect of their culture. If we are indifferent about maintaining high standards in this area that certainly is no credit to our overall cultural aspirations.

Our attitude towards this important area is a sad reflection of the prevailing social values. Individually most customers at our markets do seem to maintain high levels of personal hygiene. It is disappointing to observe persons while conscious about their own cleanliness, at the same time showing total indifference to the filth and the disgusting odours around them when purchasing the food they consume.

Is it possible that we collectively haven’t yet mastered the ethos of public spirit in such matters while becoming extremely good at pursuing what benefits us individually?

Whatever the answer, the fact is that the state of our food markets is appalling. They are not suitable for a nation which now boasts a per capita income of more than US$ 1500.

It is offensive to think that in a country which prides itself on its near complete literacy we consume food sold in such revolting places. In fact it is not a laughing matter that our main wholesale markets such as those at St. John’s and Pettah are synonyms in common usage for filthy places.

In view of this disheartening reality, that televised New Year celebration appears to be the stuff of simple-minded escapism. If those brightly dressed young persons examined the process by which their Kavuns and Kokis came to the table they may not be smiling that happily.

There is obviously a big gap here between what we wish to be the reality and its actual substance. This New Year is as a good time as any to address this issue.