Events of my time in Weligama were impossible to sort into any chronological order as they seemed to gather their own momentum occurring spontaneously, and often with no bearing on any events before or since. Magic moments that materialised from nowhere to enchant, entertain, and warm the soul.
I do remember that after about three days in the village I
left! Not because things were not to my liking - far from it - but because I
felt trapped by kindness. After being raised in a western middle class society
it was very difficult to experience having several people devote a large part
of their day to ensuring that you are happy, comfortable, well fed, and well
entertained. In the world I had been raised in, it is customary for full grown
adults to attend to some of their own survival needs, even when a guest in
somebody else’s home. But in Weligama those first few days, all the basic
requirements for living were provided for me: a roof, three meals a day, timely
morning and afternoon coffees, cigarettes bought (and often lit), clothes
washed, lamps lit, house cleaned. I could go on, but I think it's enough to
show just how often in a single day our host family provided small comforts to
make our life an easy joy.
This endless stream of kindness and good deeds towards me
left me feeling ambivalent. At least a woman can assert her right to wash her
own clothes at the well, or take part in other domestic duties without becoming
too much the object of mirth and chattering but in Sri Lankan society, men
simply do not indulge in traditional domestic duties. It often seemed that
women exist for the men in fact. And frankly, it annoyed me not to be given any
say in the daily basics that kept me alive and comfortable. Perhaps I wanted to
assist in the preparation of food for example, but this wish would be
considered absurd because I was a man.
Another thing that bothered me in those first few days was
something that really was no one else’s problem but my own, and simply it was
that I possessed no strategy for coping with such limitless kindness. Because
of the aforementioned roles of men and women, neither was I able to show my
gratitude in the way I would ordinarily do at home (washing the dishes maybe,
or doing the shopping). Where the problem lay was that I felt that I had to
repay the kindness being offered me, and not being able to I felt something of
a freeloader. I later learned that in true keeping with Buddhist tradition,
these people gave for giving's sake only; there was certainly no expectation of
return, and the fact that I felt I had to return favours was a mistake on my
part, and purely my own personal problem.
I did leave the village for a short time of something less
than a week, and from the moment I departed I wondered why. Everything was
provided for me there. Why am I going? What am I thinking? When I returned
Titus just stood, grinned with twinkling, knowing eyes and said: “ You come
back?” And this time I knew I'd be in no
hurry to leave. Besides, all I had to do was sing!
