Found In Ceylon

A tree that blooms forever? It sounds like one of Aesop’s fables, or a biblical parable: a tree that boasted its beautiful and fragrant flowers daily; the gods grew jealous and smote the vainglorious tree.

Or a tragic poem: “a tree that bloom’d forever/sadly, rested it did, never.”

My housemates and I hosted a big party last weekend; sort of a farewell party as I leave this wonderful community I’ve found here in San Francisco. More than fifty people came. My yoga teacher and class assistants presented me with a stupefyingly large bouquet of pink lilies. These flowers have filled my room with such a pleasant aroma, and I find myself staring at the petals, wondering how there could be so many at once, how they could release such fragrance, reveling in the beauty of the collected specimen of Lilium.

And it brings me back to the memory of the awesome Araliya tree in Sri Lanka.

During the first two months that I stayed with Nerissa and David at Pointe Sud, I’d come to the beautiful dinner table every night and find dozens of white flowers scattered on top of it, arranged in interesting patterns. Sometimes it was arranged in the shape of Sri Lanka. Other times it was tucked into napkins or floated on water in small cups. There was one night where Asanka and Siri went overboard and took a trunk from a banana plant, inserted candles in its various parts, and sprinkled Araliya petals all over. The effect was stunning.

After several days of seeing fresh white flowers everywhere in the house morning, afternoon, and night, I asked David where all these flowers came from.

“From that tree right outside.”

He led me to the Araliya tree near the fountain. A delightful specimen of Plumeria obtusa!

“Nihal and Gamini have to rake up all those flowers off the ground three times a day. That’s where all those white flowers come from.”

I asked him when was this tree’s flowering season.

“There isn’t one; it just blooms every day, forever.”

During my stay in Sri Lanka, I slowly realized that this wasn’t such an unique phenomenon in the country. I should have take note of how the children always had tiny purple, pink, and yellow flowers ready to offer to Lord Buddha every morning and night. They just pick them off the bushes around the edges of the school. But I didn’t notice, not for a long time until it all struck me one day–everything here blooms forever.

I remember a line from Anil’s Ghost by Michael Ondaatje. It went something like this: “Spit on the dirt in Sri Lanka, and a bush will suddenly spring up.” Ceylon is in the tropics; perpetual lushness is everywhere.

But the Araliya tree at Pointe Sud was always my favorite. Dependable and charitable, it was happy to just receive its water from the sky and burst forth flowers all day, year round. How magical. I look forward to returning to that tree soon.

Just ten more days before I return to Ceylon! But first, thanks to my dear friend Jim Brune, I’ll be giving a two-hour presentation on my experience in Sri Lanka next Tuesday, May 6, starting at 7:00pm.

It’s at the Deaf Community Center, 1550 San Leandro Blvd, San Leandro, CA. This event is hosted by Deaf Counseling, Advocacy, & Referral Agency (DCARA), which serves the San Francisco Bay Area.

I hope you’ll be able to make it!

I would like to highlight a wonderful blog written by a friend who is beginning a two-year Voluntary Service Overseas Canada experience in Birnim-Kebbi, an arid town in northwest Nigeria.

Christine “Coco” Roschaert has the luxury of having internet access at her Nigerian home, so she gets to blog far more frequently than I ever did! Like me, she has Usher Syndrome; in contrast to me, she has far less vision and defines herself as a Deaf-Blind woman.

For her first six weeks in Nigeria, two “intervenors” came with her from North America and translated everything around her into tactile ASL, and the three of them trained others in her village and greater VSO community how to communicate with Coco during her two years in Africa. She will be working with schools to develop a sign language and English curriculum for Deaf-Blind children, and making HIV/AIDS prevention presentations to Deaf communities across Nigeria.

Her bravery knows no limits! Here’s her blog: Tactile The World. If you’re on Facebook, look for her group, “Where in the World is Miss Roschaert?” where she has posted entertaining vlogs from Nigeria (and where she often posts her blogs first).

I have often written about food in Sri Lanka. It was a delightful part of my experience there, and continues to be a part of my life even today. I sip Dilmah Tea (actually, I used to until we ran out last month), and I still can’t stop eating with my fingers every now and then (it’s especially useful for those last morsels of a nearly-completed meal!).

Chilies. Dozens of coconut derivatives. Mangosteens, wood apples, and rambutans. Dhal. Gourd and brinjal. Bread. Amanda Hesser of International Herald Tribune wrote a great article here a few years ago about the majesty that is Sri Lankan food. And there is rice, of course.

Rice is food. Literally. The Sinhala word for food is bath, which also means rice. To ask someone if they want food is to say literally, “Do you want rice?”

Which is why I have read with some alarm the news about the global food emergency. Sri Lanka, with its heavy reliance on imported rice, is extremely vulnerable as many other nations are. The World Food Programme (WFP) has identified Sri Lanka as one of the 11 “hunger’s global hotspots,” while the U.N. Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) lists Sri Lanka as one of 14 countries facing “food emergencies.”

Some of the current prices for rice and bread listed in various news articles are astounding. A kilo of local rice in Colombo is now sold at Rs. 112. I vaguely remember it being around Rs. 50-60 while I was there. Food prices overall have increased 37% in the past year. The World Socialist Web Site reports that “the government has admitted that bread prices could rise to 100 rupees by the end of this year…” I distinctly recall buying a loaf of bread for Rs. 23, a nationwide price set by the government.

23 rupees to 100 rupees in less than two years? That’s like bread jumping from $2.00 to $8.00. No way can people living on the edge of poverty sustain their families with such unreasonable prices. I’m worried about what’s going to happen in Sri Lanka in the next several months.