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Leopards at Pilimagala and Kumana

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by Walter R. Gooneratne

I have made frequent jungle trips over the past 50 years, and these covered most regions of the country. I have camped out on several occasions in the intermediate zones of both Ruhuna and Wilpattu National Parks, but however interesting and exciting these were, the first trip was the most memorable.

In this period about the 1950’s, which I write about, our jungles were teeming with wildlife, and in that unenlightened era, animals were referred to as game, and some such as the bear were officially called vermin. Shooting them was considered sport. Principles of conservation were just beginning to be understood. Attitudes towards conservation have changed now, and hopefully we should be able to save our dwindling species. At the beginning, when shooting was allowed on permits, I indulged in this so- called sport, but gave it up over the past 25 years or more and am now an ardent conservationist.

Leopards at Pilimagala

In June 1951 1 was transferred to General Hospital, Kandy as a house officer, and it was there that I met two kindred spirits, Dr.Mackie Ratwatte, who was also a house officer, and Dr. S. J. Lawrence, better known as Pervey, or Tango Lawrence, so named for his elegant performance of this dance. Pervey was an anaesthetist. We soon discovered that we had a common interest, namely that of nature, wildlife and adventure, and most of our “off’ week-ends were spent in the jungles in Dambulla, Inamaluwa, and Kibissa near Sigiriya.

When the new Department of Wildlife (as it was then called) was formed, areas around national parks were declared as buffer or intermediate zones. People were allowed, on permit, to enter and shoot a limited number of game in these zones. There being no bungalows to hire, only camping was available, and that too at any preferred spot. For the princely sum of ten rupees a party had the exclusive use of the whole block for ten days. The Yala Intermediate Zone was divided into two parts, north and east. The north was further divided into block one (Galge), block two (Warahana) and block three (Muduntalawa).

We decided that we should be more adventurous and go camping into an intermediate zone. Having made inquiries we decided to go to Galge. Fortunately for us, a friend of ours lent us an old war-model Willys Jeep, and another gave us a tarpaulin and a canvas ground sheet. Pervey’s armoury consisted of a 9.3mm Mauser rifle and a double-barrel shot-gun, and as for me, I had borrowed my father’s 7.9mm Mauser and his Stevens six shot repeater shot-gun. I also borrowed my brother’s 0.22 inch calibre Hornet rifle. Mackie had no weapons, for he did not shoot.

When news got around that we were going hunting, there was a special request from an old attendant of the hospital, Seetin Singho. He was a chronic asthmatic and wanted us to bring him some kara mus or flesh from the back of the leopard’s neck. There was a belief that the call of the leopard sounded like panting as in asthma, but it was unable to lick the back of its neck, and therefore eating kara mus was considered a cure for asthma.

Having loaded the jeep, we left Kandy early one morning in February 1952. In addition to the three of us we also took along a cook. The old jeep, groaning under its heavy load, brought us without further incident to Kataragama at about 11 am.

We now had to meet our tracker, Babun Appuhamy who was going to be our guide for the rest of the journey. He had informed us that he lived on the other side of Menik Ganga. Fortunately the river was at a low ebb, and the jeep, despite its heavy burden, had no problem getting across. Everybody at Kataragama seemed to know Babun, and we had no difficulty in finding his house. Our first meeting was a memorable one. He looked at us in surprise, for as he told us later, when he heard that the party consisted of three doctors, he had expected to see three staid middle-aged men. He changed his look of surprise to one of approval.

Babun was about five feet three inches in height and of a dark complexion. He did not seem to have an ounce of fat on his body, and his wiry muscles rippled under his dusky skin. His age was anybody’s guess. He inspected our weapons with the eye of a connoisseur and inquired closely about the Hornet. He said it would be the ideal weapon for small game such as jungle fowl and hare. When I told him that I could and would use it on larger game, he expressed his serious doubts. The Hornet, though of 0.22inch calibre had a muzzle velocity of 3,500 feet per second and fired a much heavier bullet than the ordinary rim fire weapon.

Camping at Pilimagala

Having had a lunch of rice and curry at a small eating house or buth kade in Kataragama, we started on the last lap of our journey to the campsite. The old Buttala-Kataragama road was a nightmare. The first three or four miles of the road were a drain four to five feet deep and just wide enough for our vehicle. Rainwater had gouged out deep channels on its floor, and when the jeep fell into these ruts it would tilt at crazy angles. We had therefore to dismantle the hood to prevent it from being damaged on the banks of the road.

At the sixth milepost, there was a shrine dedicated to Lord Ganesh. Babun hung a leaf at the shrine with a prayer to the deity for a safe journey. At this point we turned right on the track to Pilimagala, our campsite. After about four and a half miles we came to an open plain or eliya. This was Thalakola Wewa. The bund of this former tank or reservoir, as suggested by the name wewa, had breached many years ago and the resulting plain was lush and green after the recent rains. Here was a herd of about twenty deer. There were many does and a few bucks, which gazed at us in curiosity.

Babun wanted me to shoot the big antlered buck both for food and as bait for the leopard. I decided to use the Hornet, but Babun admonished me saying that I would only injure the animal and thereby lose him. Ignoring Babun’s advice I shot the buck in the shoulder with a hollow-point bullet. At my shot the animal collapsed in its tracks. Total disbelief was written all over the tracker’s face. He examined the rifle closely to make sure that I had not deceived him about the calibre.

We arrived at the campsite at about six pm and got about setting up our camp, which was a very simple affair. A rope was tied between two trees and the tarpaulin slung over it. The four corners of the tarpaulin were tied to some pegs driven into the ground. The ground sheet was spread on the floor and our tent was complete.

Pilimagala was a huge slab of rock, about 300 yards long and 150 yards wide. At the base of the rock, where our camp was located, there was a water-hole or kema extending some distance into the rock. This provided what we considered pure water (except for a few frogs!) for drinking and cooking. Towards the left corner of the rock, was a cave about twenty yards long and ten feet deep. It had a drip-ledge on the overhanging rock above the opening, providing architectural proof that centuries ago it was part of a monastery. It would have been occupied by monks, who would have worshiped the statue and the vihare, the ruins of which still existed at the top.

The rock itself was two tiered. The lower and bigger part had a large water-hole (kema) about 30 feet long and eight feet wide. The upper part was smaller and at its summit was a smaller water-hole and the ruins of the statue and vihare. It is this statue that has given the rock the name Pilimagala. (pilima = statue; gala = rock).

We washed away our grime and fatigue of the journey in a cool bath with water drawn from the kema and lingered awhile to enjoy the cool breezes that blew over the green canopy. The view too was breathtaking, an unbroken sea of varying shades of green around us. Back in camp, we relaxed with a drink, and now that the cook had prepared the dinner, we had a delicious meal of venison curry, pol sambol and rice. We then had unbroken steep till next morning.

Baits for leopard

After breakfast the next day, we set about tying up baits for the leopards. The first was taken eastwards to a swampy plain called Unawa, which was about a mile from camp. The bait was in fact dragged along the track, as Babun said that when a leopard, in its nightly wanderings spots the drag mark, it follows it to the bait. The next bait was tied up at Thalakola Wewa close to the water-hole.

That evening we did a trek to the other side of Pilimagala, where there were large plains, interspersed with high forest. We kept to the edge of the forest so as not to disturb any animals in the glades. Suddenly there was an alarm call of a deer to our right and in front. Babun immediately signaled us to freeze. There were more hysterical calls warning the jungle folk that there was a leopard on the prowl. Pervey and I were ready with our rifles in case the leopard should show up. However, after a short while, the calls ceased, indicating that the leopard had most probably spotted us and moved away.

Clapping for jungle fowl

As we went further along, a jungle fowl called in the thicket to our right. Babun immediately motioned us to squat and whispered to me to be ready with the Hornet.

rolled up the lower part of his sarong into a ball and having placed it on the palm of his left hand, clapped on it with his right palm. One sharp clap was followed after a second by four or five rapid ones. Each series of claps was immediately followed by the crowing of the cock. This went on for some time, and each time the bird got closer and closer, and suddenly it dashed towards us.

However, on seeing us he immediately took flight. I took a quick shot, but missed completely. I learned two lessons, one being how to call up jungle fowl, and the other to use only a shot gun for shooting it. I have used this technique several times since then with spectacular success. I demonstrated this to Dr. Chris Uragoda recently at Malwariya Kema in Yala Block Five. The theory behind this technique is that every time a jungle fowl crows to announce its territory, it flaps its wings. The muffled clap on the sarong simulates the flapping of the wings of an intruder and he rushes in to meet his challenger.

Building hides

Early next morning we set out to inspect the baits. The one at Unawe had been attacked by a leopard as evidenced by the profusion of pug-marks around it. However, only a small amount of flesh had been eaten, but all internal organs had been carried to the edge of the jungle and devoured. Babun deduced that the leopard had found the bait only at day-break, and had therefore taken only the detachable parts and eaten them at the edge of the jungle. It would undoubtedly return to the feast. We now set about building a hide or kotuatte. It was sited about fifteen yards from the bait at the edge of the forest. Four stout saplings were cut from trees some distance away, so as not to disturb the area close to the bait. These saplings were now planted at the selected site to make a five-foot square. Thinner sticks were lashed to this frame to form a lattice. Strips of bark from the tree, maila were used as rope for this purpose. Next, small branches were threaded into the lattice until it was completely covered. In front were two holes or kapollas at eye level, one being for the tracker, and the other for the hunter to look and point his rifle through. These were covered with large leaves from the penera tree. At the back was an opening for the prospective occupants to get in, after which it was closed with a leafy branch. Finally, Babun inspected the contraption to make sure it was completely covered. He claimed that the leopard had such keen eyesight that it could spot even the batting of an eye-lid. Its hearing too was very acute.

As luck would have it, the bait or kuna at Thalakola Wewa had also been eaten. We built a kotuatte here too and returned to camp for a bath at the kema and lunch.

Mistaken identity

At 5 pm. we left for our respective hides. Pervey and Babun went walking to Unawe as it was not far, and Mackie and I took the jeep to Thalakola Wewa. Babun gave us strict instructions on how to conduct ourselves in the hide. We were to stay absolutely motionless, even if we were being drained of our blood by the hordes of mosquitoes that abounded there. Only when we heard the sound of the leopard eating the bait were we to open the kapolla and shoot.

At about 6 pm. we heard the alarm call of langur, a species of monkey, to the front of us but some distance away. A short while later a sambhur called, warning the animals that a leopard was on the prowl. For quite some time the jungle fell silent, except for the raucous calls of some Malabar pied hornbills from a tree behind us. It was now growing dark, and we thought that the leopard had spotted us and gone away. We were about to abandon our hide and get back to camp when a whole herd of spotted deer called from the track on our right and crashed away into the jungle.

The leopard was near at hand, but still no sounds of feeding were heard. Swarms of mosquitoes blanketed us, and it was quite dark by now. The moon had risen but was still covered by the wall of tall trees. Suddenly there was the sound of tearing of flesh and the simultaneous growl of the leopard. The growling and tearing of flesh continued for some minutes. We assumed that the leopard had spotted us and was trying to frighten us or maybe attack us.

By now the moon had just crested the trees and there was some light. We had to act fast before the leopard was on us. I exchanged the rifle for the shot-gun. I signaled Mackie to open his kapolla, and I did likewise. I then saw in the faint light what I thought was a gray head as it tore away the flesh. Taking careful aim I fired. At my shot, the animal crashed away and fell into the water-hole nearby. We, in our ignorance, had assumed that the leopard had been mortally wounded, and we could come the next day and recover the body.

When we got back to camp, the others had not returned yet. Half an hour later they were back. Their leopard had, for some reason not turned up. When I told Babun what had happened to us, he had a hearty laugh. He explained that it was a crocodile from the nearby water hole that was feeding, on the kill, and leopard in the thicket was trying to drive it away. No self-respecting leopard, he said, would jump into a water hole. It was not the leopard I had shot but the crocodile. Sure enough, the next morning Babun probed the water-hole with a pole and fished out the dead crocodile.

Another night’s vigil

In the evening we left early as Babun predicted that the leopard would come to the bait early to thwart the crocodile. He explained that the sound of gunfire, as long as the leopard was not injured, would be attributed by it to the sound of thunder. I can now confirm this, based on what happened to two of my friends on later occasions. The late Mr. Simon Gunewardene at Galge, and again the late Dr Ivor Obeyesekera at Kumana each had fired at and missed a leopard. On both occasions the leopards returned to the kill a short while later.

At 5.40 pm we were alerted by the numerous alarm calls of peafowl, langur and spotted deer from quite a distance away. Obviously the animal had no reason for stealth, as he knew that a ready-made feast was awaiting him. A few minutes later there was the welcome sound of tearing of flesh and crunching of bone. Our leopard had come and was feeding. This was the moment we were waiting for. I signaled Mackie to look through his kapolla and simultaneously looked through mine. There was the leopard quite oblivious to his surroundings, gorging away at the meat.

I took the Mauser and fired at its head at that short range. At my shot the raised head came down and rested on its paws, and a shudder went through its whole body. All was now still. However, going on the old adage ‘never trust a leopard until he’s skinned’, we got out of the hide with the shot gun cocked. I asked Mackie to throw clumps of earth from a termite mound that lay nearby. Nothing happened. The leopard was dead.

The jeep was brought and the carcass hauled onto the bonnet in triumph. When we arrived at the camp, the others had not returned yet. A few minutes later, there was the sound of gun-fire. However, Babun had warned, that should we hear gun shots, we should stay put. In case the leopard should be injured, we would be blundering into an infuriated animal. An hour later they returned. Pervey had also got his prize. The jeep was taken and the leopard brought back.

After a bath in the kema, we drank the rest of the liquor in celebration. Then dinner and bed were most welcome The whole of the next morning was spent skinning the two leopards. At about 10 am, Pervey and I walked to Unawe. There we surprised a huge lone wild boar with prominent Lushes wallowing in the mud. We both got our rifles up, but it was too quick for us and crashed away into the nearby jungle.

In the evening, we walked towards Muduntalawa. About four miles from camp was a huge rock, with a long kema at ground level. The rock overhung the kema. Its surface was adorned with a pale green water weed in the shape of a rose petal. This was Banawelkema. On the way back, there were large numbers of spotted deer, but we did not shoot any, as it was getting late and we were in no mood to carry carcasses. The place was a paradise for leopard, and the track was riddled with their pug marks. A bear had also walked towards Muduntalawa.

It was getting quite dark when returning to camp, and had to walk with much caution as we had forgotten to bring a torch, for we had not expected to get so late. However, we sang at the top of our voices to warn any prowlers that some tough guys were on their way. When we got back to camp, the cook informed us that a leopard had called from the rock. Late at night the leopard called again, and Pervey and Babun went to investigate, but as there was bright moonlight the creature must have spotted them and moved away.

The next morning was cloudy and there was a drizzle. Though we had planned to stay two more days, we were compelled to leave the next day as our food supply was running out. We had misjudged the appetites of Babun and the cook, who could and did eat double of what we did.

(To be continued)



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Features

Hanoi’s most popular street could kill you

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[pic BBC]

Train Street started life as a razor-thin alley with a train rushing through it. Now, it’s swarmed with Instagrammable cafes and tourists who can’t stay away, despite the risks.

A train chugs through Hanoi, approaching a narrow passageway festooned with Chinese-style lanterns. Just as it screams into the station, a tourist jumps onto the tracks, attempting her most social-media friendly pose. Moments before the train strikes, its horn blaring into the humid air, she recoils to safety. Click, post.

It’s just an ordinary day on Hanoi’s Train Street, a 400m stretch of railway flanked by cafes where tourists nurse beers and watch, mesmerised, as trains roar past them at dangerously close proximity: sometimes crashing into tables and chairs.

Fun? Evidently – in a few short years, Train Street has entered Vietnam’s pantheon of “must-see” attractions, along with Ha Long Bay and the Cu Chi Tunnels. But the Vietnamese government is less impressed; since the site went viral in 2017, it has attempted various shutdowns, first in 2019, then 2022 and most recently further investigations and crackdowns in 2025 after an incident where a selfie-snapping tourist was nearly dragged under an oncoming train’s wheels. Police barricades go up between train arrivals; edicts are issued to tour operators and bar owners.

The tourists come anyway.

Alamy The Vietnamese government has attempted numerous shutdowns of the area (Credit: Alamy)
The Vietnamese government has attempted numerous shutdowns of the area (BBC)

How did an ordinary street become one of Vietnam’s hottest tourist attractions? It started innocently enough.

The North-South Railway was built by colonialist French forces in 1902, connecting Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City. Fifty-four years later, the General Department of Railway erected a series of squat buildings straddling a stretch in central Hanoi to house employees. By the 1970s, the area was considered a slum; residents regularly roused out of their sleep by trains rumbling through, their houses quaking.

“It was just an ordinary street with train tracks running through it,” said Minh Anh, a lifelong Hanoi local who works at local whisky distillery,

Alamy The Vietnamese government has attempted numerous shutdowns of the area (Credit: Alamy)Alamy
The Vietnamese government has attempted numerous shutdowns of the area (Credit: Alamy)
From ordinary to unmissable

How did an ordinary street become one of Vietnam’s hottest tourist attractions? It started innocently enough.

The North-South Railway was built by colonialist French forces in 1902, connecting Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City. Fifty-four years later, the General Department of Railway erected a series of squat buildings straddling a stretch in central Hanoi to house employees. By the 1970s, the area was considered a slum; residents regularly roused out of their sleep by trains rumbling through, their houses quaking.

“It was just an ordinary street with train tracks running through it,” said Minh Anh, a lifelong Hanoi local who works at local whisky distillery, Về Để Đi’. “When it started popping up all over social media, I was honestly surprised.”

Nhi Nguyn, a tour guide for A Taste of Hanoi, used to walk tourists through, just before it exploded in popularity. “People were still living ordinary lives there back then and there weren’t so many cafes next to the tracks,” she said. “It had a much more authentic feel: scooters were locked up just meters from the tracks, laundered clothes hung outside, and people were cooking outside on small gas stoves.”

. “When it started popping up all over social media, I was honestly surprised.”

Nhi Nguyn, a tour guide for

Alamy The Vietnamese government has attempted numerous shutdowns of the area (Credit: Alamy)Alamy
The Vietnamese government has attempted numerous shutdowns of the area (Credit: Alamy)
From ordinary to unmissable

How did an ordinary street become one of Vietnam’s hottest tourist attractions? It started innocently enough.

The North-South Railway was built by colonialist French forces in 1902, connecting Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City. Fifty-four years later, the General Department of Railway erected a series of squat buildings straddling a stretch in central Hanoi to house employees. By the 1970s, the area was considered a slum; residents regularly roused out of their sleep by trains rumbling through, their houses quaking.

“It was just an ordinary street with train tracks running through it,” said Minh Anh, a lifelong Hanoi local who works at local whisky distillery, Về Để Đi’. “When it started popping up all over social media, I was honestly surprised.”

Nhi Nguyn, a tour guide for A Taste of Hanoi, used to walk tourists through, just before it exploded in popularity. “People were still living ordinary lives there back then and there weren’t so many cafes next to the tracks,” she said. “It had a much more authentic feel: scooters were locked up just meters from the tracks, laundered clothes hung outside, and people were cooking outside on small gas stoves.”

, used to walk tourists through, just before it exploded in popularity. “People were still living ordinary lives there back then and there weren’t so many cafes next to the tracks,” she said. “It had a much more authentic feel: scooters were locked up just meters from the tracks, laundered clothes hung outside, and people were cooking outside on small gas stoves.”

Alamy The rushing of the trains paired with the atmospheric setting are irresistible to tourists (Credit: Alamy)
The rushing of the trains paired with the atmospheric setting are irresistible to tourists (BBC)

In early 2013, Colm Pierce and Alex Sheal, co-founders of Hanoi-based photography tours Vietnam in Focus, launched a Hanoi on the Tracks tour to show visitors how local residents had adopted to the locomotive-sized challenge of living on railway tracks. Serendipitously, in June 2013, Instagram launched its new video-sharing feature. A year later, the Travel Channel show “Tough Trains”  featured Pierce walking down Train Street with a camera crew, further enticing travellers.

In 2017, an enterprising resident started selling beer and coffee, inviting curious tourists to stay to watch the train go by. Neighbours noticed the economic opportunity and cafes and bars rapidly spread. Soon, the formerly derelict alley, now dubbed Phố Đường Tàu (literally: “Train Street”) became bedecked with colourful lanterns and Christmas lights. Visitors learned to time their arrival for 30 minutes before a scheduled train and the “classic” Train Street experience was cemented: upon entering the tracks, tourists were shepherded into rail-side bars by local merchants and plied with beers and coffee, until the train shrieked through, rattling plates and causing hearts to pound.

Julia Husum, a university student from Norway, visited Train Street in February 2026, and “loved” the experience. “We put our beer caps on the railway, and the train flattened it, creating souvenirs for us,” she said. “I’d go back again.”

Without the advent of social media, would Train Street have become popular? As a travel writer, I’ve witnessed dozens of would-be influencers’ death-defying acts, like scaling down a rocky cliff above Dubrovnik and standing atop the side wall of 14th-Century Charles Bridge in Prague; wistfully looking off into the distance as the camera flashes. I’ve come to conclude that Train Street is no different; here, too, visitors risk their own safety for a picture-perfect opportunity.

Ivana Larrosa Once a derelict alley, Train Street has become one of Hanoi's most atmospheric lanes (Credit: Ivana Larrosa)
Once a derelict alley, Train Street has become one of Hanoi’s most atmospheric lanes (BBC)

“Essentially social media has fuelled Train Street into what it is today, [where] tourists flock in droves to the area to feel the adrenaline of the passing train while sipping local coffee,” echoed Michael Stanbury, the creative director for Vietnam in Focus. “Even without the train, the Instagrammable decorated street holds a very Hanoian charm.”

Local debate; the government proposes halting passenger trains for good. And each attempted shutdown, tourists climb past the barricades. There are, to date, more than 100,000 posts tagging Train Street on Instagram. Men’s grooming blogger Adam Hurly visited because a friend had hyped it. “It felt more like an Instagram attraction rather than a neighbourhood street,” he admitted, noting that once the crowds arrive, it becomes congested and less enjoyable, “Especially if you’re just standing on the main sidewalk trying to get a picture.”

He added: “It’s one of those places that looks better in photos than it feels in reality.”

But Matthew Tran, an artisanal footwear designer who visits Hanoi regularly, loves the pull of Train Street.

“The coffees were absurdly overpriced, yet I paid for them every time because I couldn’t stop marvelling at how the place worked; how an entire economy could thrive in such an improbable space,” he said. “These vendors built something real out of something most people would call chaos – that, to me, is worth coming back for.”

Ivana Larrosa Despite its tourist appeal, Train Street is full of residents who see it as part of their daily reality (Credit: Ivana Larrosa)
Despite its tourist appeal, Train Street is full of residents who see it as part of their daily reality (BBC)

He offers advice for future visitors: “It’s a unique experience you won’t get anywhere else. Although I wish more visitors would stop for a moment and remember that while it’s a tourist attraction to them, living beside those train tracks is someone else’s daily reality.”

Under more superficial reasons, visiting Train Street is similar to the appeal of visiting the Eiffel Tower during someone’s first visit to Paris, said Charlotte Russell, founder of  The Travel Psychologist.

“Humans are a social species and if we perceive that other people are enjoying an experience, it is natural for us to want to do it too,” she said. “This goes back to our evolution, when we lived in small groups and it would be advantageous for us to emulate other people in this way. So the sense of fear of missing out that we experience when seeing other people visiting places like Train Street is part of being human.”

Bearix Stewart-Frommer, an American pre-med student, validates Russell’s theory: “I found out about Train Street from my mum,” she said. “I didn’t have some deep motivation to see it, but I was curious because it’s one of those quirky, very photogenic spots that people talk about on social media.”

But there may be a more deep-seated reason why we’re lured to such places, Russell notes: “With Train Street specifically, the risk element is part of what makes it so novel, especially those of us from countries like the UK… We are used to regulation and precaution, railings, barriers and painted lines that we must stand behind. In contrast, Train Street can feel unbelievable to see and experience… [it helps] us reflect on our own norms and realise that other perspectives do exist.”

Ivana Larrosa Risks aside, the street's fame has given locals unique business opportunities (Credit: Ivana Larrosa)
Risks aside, the street’s fame has given locals unique business opportunities (BBC)

Local tour guide Phuong Loan Ngo offers one such alternative perspective: “The economic boost is undeniable, giving families who live along Train Street financial opportunities,” she said. “On the other hand, there are cultural challenges too. When an area becomes a ‘spotlight’ for social media, a place’s historical and cultural heritage can get lost. Instead of learning about how this railway has functioned since the colonial era, people often leave with only a photo, missing the true soul of the neighbourhood.”

The irony is that Vietnam in Focus has now moved their photography tours to another, far-less trammelled part of the railway, so they can show visitors that old, track-side way of life.

“As with all good things, the popularity of Train Street and the crowds it attracts are spreading,” said Sheal. “Thankfully, we have scoured Hanoi and found a fantastic local market that runs along the Hanoian railway further out in the suburbs – a new attraction.”

That is, until the social-media-obsessed travel masses find out about it. For better or worse, the unbearable lightness of Train Street is a permanent, but moveable feast.

[BBC]

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An innocent bystander or a passive onlooker?

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Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi (C) meeting President of the European Council, Antonio Luis Santos da Costa and the President of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen ahead of the Exchange of MoUs between India and EU, in Hyderabad House, New Delhi, India, on 27 January, 2026.

After nearly two decades of on-and-off negotiations that began in 2007, India and the European Union formally finally concluded a comprehensive free trade agreement on 27 January 2026. This agreement, the India–European Union Free Trade Agreement (IEUFTA), was hailed by political leaders from both sides as the “mother of all deals,” because it would create a massive economic partnership and greatly increase the current bilateral trade, which was over US$ 136 billion in 2024. The agreement still requires ratification by the European Parliament, approval by EU member states, and completion of domestic approval processes in India. Therefore, it is only likely to come into force by early 2027.

An Innocent Bystander

When negotiations for a Free Trade Agreement between India and the European Union were formally launched in June 2007, anticipating far-reaching consequences of such an agreement on other developing countries, the Commonwealth Secretariat, in London, requested the Centre for Analysis of Regional Integration at the University of Sussex to undertake a study on a possible implication of such an agreement on other low-income developing countries. Thus, a group of academics, led by Professor Alan Winters, undertook a study, and it was published by the Commonwealth Secretariat in 2009 (“Innocent Bystanders—Implications of the EU-India Free Trade Agreement for Excluded Countries”). The authors of the study had considered the impact of an EU–India Free Trade Agreement for the trade of excluded countries and had underlined, “The SAARC countries are, by a long way, the most vulnerable to negative impacts from the FTA. Their exports are more similar to India’s…. Bangladesh is most exposed in the EU market, followed by Pakistan and Sri Lanka.”

Trade Preferences and Export Growth

Normally, reduction of price through preferential market access leads to export growth and trade diversification. During the last 19-year period (2015–2024), SAARC countries enjoyed varying degrees of preferences, under the EU’s Generalised Scheme of Preferences (GSP). But, the level of preferential access extended to India, through the GSP (general) arrangement, only provided a limited amount of duty reduction as against other SAARC countries, which were eligible for duty-free access into the EU market for most of their exports, via their LDC status or GSP+ route.

However, having preferential market access to the EU is worthless if those preferences cannot be utilised. Sri Lanka’s preference utilisation rate, which specifies the ratio of eligible to preferential imports, is significantly below the average for the EU GSP receiving countries. It was only 59% in 2023 and 69% in 2024. Comparative percentages in 2024 were, for Bangladesh, 96%; Pakistan, 95%; and India, 88%.

As illustrated in the table above, between 2015 and 2024, the EU’s imports from SAARC countries had increased twofold, from US$ 63 billion in 2015 to US$ 129 billion by 2024. Most of this growth had come from India. The imports from Pakistan and Bangladesh also increased significantly. The increase of imports from Sri Lanka, when compared to other South Asian countries, was limited. Exports from other SAARC countries—Afghanistan, Bhutan, Nepal, and the Maldives—are very small and, therefore, not included in this analysis.

Why the EU – India FTA?

With the best export performance in the region, why does India need an FTA with the EU?

Because even with very impressive overall export growth, in certain areas, India has performed very poorly in the EU market due to tariff disadvantages. In addition to that, from January 2026, the EU has withdrawn GSP benefits from most of India’s industrial exports. The FTA clearly addresses these challenges, and India will improve her competitiveness significantly once the FTA becomes operational.

Then the question is, what will be its impact on those “innocent bystanders” in South Asia and, more particularly, on Sri Lanka?

To provide a reasonable answer to this question, one has to undertake an in-depth product-by-product analysis of all major exports. Due to time and resource constraints, for the purpose of this article, I took a brief look at Sri Lanka’s two largest exports to the EU, viz., the apparels and rubber-based products.

Fortunately, Sri Lanka’s exports of rubber products will be only nominally impacted by the FTA due to the low MFN duty rate. For example, solid tyres and rubber gloves are charged very low (around 3%) MFN duty and the exports of these products from Sri Lanka and India are eligible for 0% GSP duty at present. With an equal market access, Sri Lanka has done much better than India in the EU market. Sri Lanka is the largest exporter of solid tyres to the EU and during 2024 our exports were valued at US$180 million.

On the other hand, Tariffs MFN tariffs on Apparel at 12% are relatively high and play a big role in apparel sourcing. Even a small difference in landed cost can shift entire sourcing to another supplier country. Indian apparel exports to the EU faced relatively high duties (8.5% – 12%), while competitors, such as Bangladesh, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka, are eligible for preferential access. In addition to that, Bangladesh enjoys highly favourable Rules of Origin in the EU market. The impact of these different trade rules, on the EU’s imports, is clearly visible in the trade data.

During the last 10 years (2015-2024), the EU’s apparel imports from Bangladesh nearly doubled, from US$15.1 billion, in 2015, to US$29.1 billion by 2024, and apparel imports from Pakistan more than doubled, from US$2.3 billion to US$5.5 billion. However, apparel imports from Sri Lanka increased only from US$1.3 billion in 2015 to US$2.2 billion by 2024. The impressive export growth from Pakistan and Bangladesh is mostly related to GSP preferences, while the lackluster growth of Sri Lankan exports was largely due to low preference utilisation. Nearly half of Sri Lanka’s apparel exports faced a 12% tariff due to strict Rules of Origin requirements to qualify for GSP.

During the same period, the EU’s apparel imports from India only showed very modest growth, from US$ 5.3 billion, in 2015, to US$ 6.3 billion in 2024. The main reason for this was the very significant tariff disadvantage India faced in the EU market. However, once the FTA eliminates this gap, apparel imports from India are expected to grow rapidly.

According to available information, Indian industry bodies expect US$ 5-7 billion growth of textiles and apparel exports during the first three years of the FTA. This will create a significant trade diversion, resulting in a decline in exports from China and other countries that do not enjoy preferential market access. As almost half of Sri Lanka’s apparel exports are not eligible for GSP, the impact on our exports will also be fierce. Even in the areas where Sri Lanka receives preferential duty-free access, the arrival of another large player will change the market dynamics greatly.

A Passive Onlooker?

Since the commencement of the negotiations on the EU–India FTA, Bangladesh and Pakistan have significantly enhanced the level of market access through proactive diplomatic interventions. As a result, they have substantially increased competitiveness and the market share within the EU. This would help them to minimize the adverse implications of the India–EU FTA on their exports. Sri Lanka’s exports to the EU market have not performed that well. The challenges in that market will intensify after 2027.

As we can clearly anticipate a significant adverse impact from the EU-India FTA, we should start to engage immediately with the European Commission on these issues without being passive onlookers. For example, the impact of the EU-India FTA should have been a main agenda item in the recently concluded joint commission meeting between the European Commission and Sri Lanka in Colombo.

Need of the Hour – Proactive Commercial Diplomacy

In the area of international trade, it is a time of turbulence. After the US Supreme Court judgement on President Trump’s “reciprocal tariffs,” the only prediction we can make about the market in the United States market is its continued unpredictability. India concluded an FTA with the UK last May and now the EU-India FTA. These are Sri Lanka’s largest markets. Now to navigate through these volatile, complex, and rapidly changing markets, we need to move away from reactive crisis management mode to anticipatory action. Hence, proactive commercial diplomacy is the need of the hour.

(The writer can be reached at senadhiragomi@gmail.com)

By Gomi Senadhira

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Educational reforms: A perspective

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Dr. B.J.C. Perera (Dr. BJCP) in his article ‘The Education cross roads: Liberating Sri Lankan classroom and moving ahead’ asks the critical question that should be the bedrock of any attempt at education reform – ‘Do we truly and clearly understand how a human being learns? (The Island, 16.02.2026)

Dr. BJCP describes the foundation of a cognitive architecture taking place with over a million neural connections occurring in a second. This in fact is the result of language learning and not the process. How do we ‘actually’ learn and communicate with one another? Is a question that was originally asked by Galileo Galilei (1564 -1642) to which scientists have still not found a definitive answer. Naom Chomsky (1928-) one of the foremost intellectuals of our time, known as the father of modern linguistics; when once asked in an interview, if there was any ‘burning question’ in his life that he would have liked to find an answer for; commented that this was one of the questions to which he would have liked to find the answer. Apart from knowing that this communication takes place through language, little else is known about the subject. In this process of learning we learn in our mother tongue and it is estimated that almost 80% of our learning is completed by the time we are 5 years old. It is critical to grasp that this is the actual process of learning and not ‘knowledge’ which tends to get confused as ‘learning’. i.e. what have you learnt?

The term mother tongue is used here as many of us later on in life do learn other languages. However, there is a fundamental difference between these languages and one’s mother tongue; in that one learns the mother tongue- and how that happens is the ‘burning question’ as opposed to a second language which is taught. The fact that the mother tongue is also formally taught later on, does not distract from this thesis.

Almost all of us take the learning of a mother tongue for granted, as much as one would take standing and walking for granted. However, learning the mother tongue is a much more complex process. Every infant learns to stand and walk the same way, but every infant depending on where they are born (and brought up) will learn a different mother tongue. The words that are learnt are concepts that would be influenced by the prevalent culture, religion, beliefs, etc. in that environment of the child. Take for example the term father. In our culture (Sinhala/Buddhist) the father is an entity that belongs to himself as well as to us -the rest of the family. We refer to him as ape thaththa. In the English speaking (Judaeo-Christian) culture he is ‘my father’. ‘Our father’ is a very different concept. ‘Our father who art in heaven….

All over the world education is done in one’s mother tongue. The only exception to this, as far as I know, are the countries that have been colonised by the British. There is a vast amount of research that re-validates education /learning in the mother tongue. And more to the point, when it comes to the comparability of learning in one’s own mother tongue as opposed to learning in English, English fails miserably.

Education /learning is best done in one’s mother tongue.

This is a fact. not an opinion. Elegantly stated in the words of Prof. Tove Skutnabb-Kangas-“Mother tongue medium education is controversial, but ‘only’ politically. Research evidence about it is not controversial.”

The tragedy is that we are discussing this fundamental principle that is taken for granted in the rest of the world. It would not be not even considered worthy of a school debate in any other country. The irony of course is, that it is being done in English!

At school we learnt all of our subjects in Sinhala (or Tamil) right up to University entrance. Across the three streams of Maths, Bio and Commerce, be it applied or pure mathematics, physics, chemistry, zoology, botany economics, business, etc. Everything from the simplest to the most complicated concept was learnt in our mother tongue. An uninterrupted process of learning that started from infancy.

All of this changed at university. We had to learn something new that had a greater depth and width than anything we had encountered before in a language -except for a very select minority – we were not at all familiar with. There were students in my university intake that had put aside reading and writing, not even spoken English outside a classroom context. This I have been reliably informed is the prevalent situation in most of the SAARC countries.

The SAARC nations that comprise eight countries (Sri Lanka, Maldives, India, Pakistan Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Nepal and Bhutan) have 21% of the world population confined to just 3% of the earth’s land mass making it probably one of the most densely populated areas in the world. One would assume that this degree of ‘clinical density’ would lead to a plethora of research publications. However, the reality is that for 25 years from 1996 to 2021 the contribution by the SAARC nations to peer reviewed research in the field of Orthopaedics and Sports medicine- my profession – was only 1.45%! Regardless of each country having different mother tongues and vastly differing socio-economic structures, the common denominator to all these countries is that medical education in each country is done in a foreign language (English).

The impact of not learning in one’s mother tongue can be illustrated at a global level. This can be easily seen when observing the research output of different countries. For example, if one looks at orthopaedics and sports medicine (once again my given profession for simplicity); Table 1. shows the cumulative research that has been published in peer review journals. Despite now having the highest population in the world, India comes in at number 16! It has been outranked by countries that have a population less than one of their states. Pundits might argue giving various reasons for this phenomenon. But the inconvertible fact remains that all other countries, other than India, learn medicine in their mother tongue.

(See Table 1) Mother tongue, medium of education in country rank order according to the volume of publications of orthopaedics and sports medicine in peer reviewed journals 1996 to 2024. Source: Scimago SCImago journal (https://www.scimagojr.com/) has collated peer review journal publications of the world. The publications are categorized into 27 categories. According to the available data from 1996 to 2024, China is ranked the second across all categories with India at the 6th position. China is first in chemical engineering, chemistry, computer science, decision sciences, energy, engineering, environmental science, material sciences, mathematics, physics and astronomy. There is no subject category that India is the first in the world. China ranks higher than India in all categories except dentistry.

The reason for this difference is obvious when one looks at how learning is done in China and India.

The Chinese learn in their mother tongue. From primary to undergraduate and postgraduate levels, it is all done in Chinese. Therefore, they have an enormous capacity to understand their subject matter just not itself, but also as to how it relates to all other subjects/ themes that surround it. It is a continuous process of learning that evolves from infancy onwards, that seamlessly passes through, primary, secondary, undergraduate and post graduate education, research, innovation, application etc. Their social language is their official language. The language they use at home is the language they use at their workplaces, clubs, research facilities and so on.

In India higher education/learning is done in a foreign language. Each state of India has its own mother tongue. Be it Hindi, Tamil, Urdu, Telagu, etc. Infancy, childhood and school education to varying degrees is carried out in each state according to their mother tongue. Then, when it comes to university education and especially the ‘science subjects’ it takes place in a foreign tongue- (English). English remains only as their ‘research’ language. All other social interactions are done in their mother tongue.

India and China have been used as examples to illustrate the point between learning in the mother tongue and a foreign tongue, as they are in population terms comparable countries. The unpalatable truth is that – though individuals might have a different grasp of English- as countries, the ability of SAARC countries to learn and understand a subject in a foreign language is inferior to the rest of the world that is learning the same subject in its mother tongue. Imagine the disadvantage we face at a global level, when our entire learning process across almost all disciplines has been in a foreign tongue with comparison to the rest of the world that has learnt all these disciplines in their mother tongue. And one by-product of this is the subsequent research, innovation that flows from this learning will also be inferior to the rest of the world.

All this only confirms what we already know. Learning is best done in one’s mother tongue! .

What needs to be realised is that there is a critical difference between ‘learning English’ and ‘learning in English’. The primary-or some may argue secondary- purpose of a university education is to learn a particular discipline, be it medicine, engineering, etc. The students- have been learning everything up to that point in Sinhala or Tamil. Learning their discipline in their mother tongue will be the easiest thing for them. The solution to this is to teach in Sinhala or Tamil, so it can be learnt in the most efficient manner. Not to lament that the university entrant’s English is poor and therefore we need to start teaching English earlier on.

We are surviving because at least up to the university level we are learning in the best possible way i.e. in our mother tongue. Can our methods be changed to be more efficient? definitely. If, however, one thinks that the answer to this efficient change in the learning process is to substitute English for the mother tongue, it will defeat the very purpose it is trying to overcome. According to Dr. BJCP as he states in his article; the current reforms of 2026 for the learning process for the primary years, centre on the ‘ABCDE’ framework: Attendance, Belongingness, Cleanliness, Discipline and English. Very briefly, as can be seen from the above discussion, if this is the framework that is to be instituted, we should modify it to ABCDEF by adding a F for Failure, for completeness!

(See Figure 1) The components and evolution of learning: Data, information, knowledge, insight, wisdom, foresight As can be seen from figure 1. data and information remain as discrete points. They do not have interconnections between them. It is these subsequent interconnections that constitute learning. And these happen best through the mother tongue. Once again, this is a fact. Not an opinion. We -all countries- need to learn a second language (foreign tongue) in order to gather information and data from the rest of the world. However, once this data/ information is gathered, the learning needs to happen in our own mother tongue.

Without a doubt English is the most universally spoken language. It is estimated that almost a quarter of the world speaks English as its mother tongue or as a second language. I am not advocating to stop teaching English. Please, teach English as a second language to give a window to the rest of the world. Just do not use it as the mode of learning. Learn English but do not learn in English. All that we will be achieving by learning in English, is to create a nation of professionals that neither know English well nor their subject matter well.

If we are to have any worthwhile educational reforms this should be the starting pivotal point. An education that takes place in one’s mother tongue. Not instituting this and discussing theories of education and learning and proposing reforms, is akin to ‘rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic’. Sadly, this is not some stupendous, revolutionary insight into education /learning. It is what the rest of the world has been doing and what we did till we came under British rule.

Those who were with me in the medical faculty may remember that I asked this question then: Why can’t we be taught in Sinhala? Today, with AI, this should be much easier than what it was 40 years ago.

The editorial of this newspaper has many a time criticised the present government for its lackadaisical attitude towards bringing in the promised ‘system change’. Do this––make mother tongue the medium of education /learning––and the entire system will change.

by Dr. Sumedha S. Amarasekara

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