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Sunday, 18 July 2010

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A second look at my shape!

My family origins are from Sinharaja forest. Due to natural calamities and man made disasters we do not exist any more in this province. So my parents migrated to Malaysia. My father did not want to send me to any school. He wanted me to join his business the export trade. He knew there were good returns in this type of business.

While I was in my twenties he packed me off to a foreign land. So I bade goodbye to my parents and got settled down in Sri Lanka. About 35 miles away from Colombo City lies a village called Vevaldeniya. The eye sweeps over an extent of rich scenery, lush green paddy fields, tiny river, surrounded by hills and friendly villagers. This all look comfortable and promise an easy kind of life.

The villagers opted for a varied choice of employment. Some farmers, tradesmen, and some took to handicraft and others practising trade handed down over the decades - cane weaving.

The new set up provided me good comfort. I was under good care. I found my new dwelling at a cane weaver’s home.

I was fortunate enough to bump into Swaris’ work shop. Swaris had a sturdy body and was in his mid thirties. He was a master in the cane weaving trade. Most of his work comes from visits to customers at their residence or business premises.

He believes there is a considerable demand for his services, as there are few cane-weaving craftsmen still engaged in this type of work.

He works hard to make this craft more popular and designs, and manufacture new cane furniture products.

These include bookshelves, dining tables, chairs, baskets and drawing suites. Many times Swaris handles me very carefully. At times more labour - and time - intensive jobs are carried out at his work shop.

Every morning he sits down with his rusty craft knife, supply of nails, a hammer and strips of cane. He strips me and start binding of the feet of chairs and tables and then uses strips of warn cane nails to strengthen the base before binding the feet with new stronger cane strips. He turns me to a delightful piece of furniture.

Everyone gives me a second look for my shapely body. A customer once dropped into the workshop. There was enought evidence to prove that she belonged to the elite class. Here is a woman who had the vitality of a girl in her twenties she was tall well-built woman who must have been a beauty in her young days. She may be 60 getting on to 70s now.

Her English has the trace of a scottish accent. She speaks both languages with fluency. She ordered a suite with six pieces. I was fortunate to be picked by a wealthy woman of class. She took me to her newly built house and was placed in the huge banquet hall. The same evening she had a house-warming ceremony.

Her guests included VIPs, government dignitaries, the Colombo-07 elite and rich businessmen. Everyone was happy with my elegant look.

It was my happiest moment, I smiled with satisfaction and received accolades from all guests, leaving little doubt about the importance of this dying trade.

-Tissa Hewavitarana

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