Features
Copenhagen
A few days before the end of those wonderful months, a car drove up to our station for gas. I was amazed to hear the mellifluous tones of Sinhala emanating from the back of the car. Naturally, we struck up a conversation. These three Sri Lankan gentlemen had been on a road trip in Europe, and were planning to drive back to London after a few days in Denmark. They were all older than my 21- years.
by Vijaya Chandrasoma
During the Summer of 1961, I applied to the National Union of Students for a Summer job as an exchange student in Europe. The Union placed me to work as a grease monkey at a gas station in Copenhagen, which included return train fare from Victoria Station in London to Copenhagen, a trip which lasted, if memory serves, 30 hours; I remember boarding the train at Victoria at midday on a Saturday, armed with plenty of drinking water and sandwiches, ending in Copenhagen around 8.0 pm on Sunday.
The Union had booked me at a hotel near the railway station on Sunday night, and I was picked up by my employer, the owner of the gas station to which I had been assigned, the next morning. I was given a room with attached bathroom next to the service station in the house where my employer and his wife lived. My remuneration included full board and lodging and the princely stipend of 10 kroner per week, the equivalent in Danish money of about Rs. 6.50 in Ceylon currency. I made at least double that amount in tips, and continued to receive the students’ allowance from home. With a beer at a bar/dance hall in the beautiful Tivoli Gardens costing just one kroner, I was one happy grease monkey. My only job was to fill up the gas and clean the windscreens of the cars that I served.
The Danes are a very friendly people, and at least one of the drivers or passengers in every three cars stopped to chat with this strange brown man. Scandinavians have no history of colonialism into Africa and Asia. They have no racial prejudice against colored people; on the contrary, they admire the swarthy hues of Asian and African people. I was often invited to the homes of many of our customers to dinner. They were all very interested in learning about the tropical island from which I hailed. It was the dream of a desert island for most Scandinavians, living as they do near the North Pole. Springtime and Summers are beautiful in Northern Europe and Scandinavia, but the Winters are freezing cold. I once spent Christmas at the Oslo, Norway home of a friend I met in London. The temperature was below zero, but it was a clean and crisp type of cold, unlike the smoggy, polluted cold of London. And the Christmas spirits available in abundance helped to keep ourselves warm.
The evenings in Copenhagen were spent at my boss’ home, watching TV and enjoying the bland but wonderful dinners prepared by his wife or taking a bus for a few drinks at one of the Taverns in Tivoli Gardens, the famous amusement park in Central Copenhagen. I was 20-years old, the girls were extraordinarily pretty and a Carlsberg was one kroner (60 Sri Lankan cents!) per bottle. Life was good. No, I lie. Life was infinitely better than merely good; it was the best four months I spent during my six years in Europe. Maybe in my whole life.
I recall one hilarious incident at one of these taverns in Tivoli Gardens. I was in the gents’ toilet one night when a couple of Sri Lankans walked in. I gathered that they were delegates to an international conference in Helsinki, in Finland, breaking journey on the taxpayers’ dime to spend a few days in beautiful Copenhagen on their return. They were, as was the fashion in those days for nationalist SLFP politicians, clad in resplendent national dress. When they saw the urinals, they looked at each other and one of them said, in Sinhala, “Machang, how are we going to pee?” The Sinhala version of this question is much more colorful. They were forced to lift their sarongs to conduct their business, much to the polite amusement of the couple of Danes who were also there. I was so embarrassed that I immediately changed my nationality and became an Indian for the night.
A few days before the end of those wonderful months, a car drove up to our station for gas. I was amazed to hear the mellifluous tones of Sinhala emanating from the back of the car. Naturally, we struck up a conversation. These three Sri Lankan gentlemen had been on a road trip in Europe, and were planning to drive back to London after a few days in Denmark. They were all older than my 21- years. We met for dinner and drinks at a restaurant in Tivoli Gardens the following night. One of them, Dr. K.N. (Bull) Seneviratne, was the older brother of a senior schoolmate of mine, Mr. Nihal (Galba) Seneviratne, who went on to grace the high office of Secretary General of the Sri Lankan Parliament. They suggested that I cash in my return ticket to London, and join them on their return journey. They were going to spend a few nights in Germany and Amsterdam, and would be in London in a few days. Which was fine by me, that 18-hour train ride certainly was no picnic.
During our return drive, I noticed that Dr. Seneviratne was purchasing miniature bottles of various types of liquors to add to his already substantial collection. As I was scheduled to leave for Colombo a few days after our return to London, the good doctor asked me if I could carry these miniature bottles with me, to be given to his brother, Nihal, who was a collector. I was happy to oblige him as he and his friends made my return trip from Copenhagen to London so much more enjoyable than a dreary train ride on my own.
I am not proud of the ending to this story. My roommate and a few friends had organized a little party in our flat in Fulham to celebrate/mourn my return home, and we ran out of booze. The pubs were closed. Someone noticed the little bottles that were in plain sight – I hadn’t begun packing yet – and we polished them all.
I spent six months after my return to Colombo, making increasingly ridiculous excuses about the fate of these bottles, that they were coming with my stuff by sea and other downright lies. Wrought by guilt, I finally confessed my crime to a close friend, the brother of Galba’s wife. Srima and Galba are wonderful people. I know they have forgiven me, but I also know they will never forget. Neither will I. The fact that those little bottles transformed an already great party to an unforgettable one will give them no consolation. We remain good friends today, 60 years later.
I had a little extra money I hadn’t been able to spend in London before the date of departure of the air ticket my parents had sent me. I arranged for a stopover in Cairo, with a couple of days at the Nile Hilton. I took in all the tourist stuff, rode a camel to visit the Great Pyramids and enjoyed the amenities of a Five Star hotel, a marked improvement from my modest accommodations in London and Oxford. An attached bathroom, for heaven’s sake. I also made friends with an American tourist, also staying at the Hilton. One evening, we were having a drink in my room, he went into the bathroom, where he was perplexed at the sight of the bidet. He couldn’t figure out its function, and asked me if it was used to wash one’s face. Like many Americans today, especially those of the Republican stripe, he had his facts ass backwards!
Features
The invisible crisis: How tour guide failures bleed value from every tourist
(Article 04 of the 04-part series on Sri Lanka’s tourism stagnation)
If you want to understand why Sri Lanka keeps leaking value even when arrivals hit “record” numbers, stop staring at SLTDA dashboards and start talking to the people who face tourists every day: the tour guides.
They are the “unofficial ambassadors” of Sri Lankan tourism, and they are the weakest, most neglected, most dysfunctional link in a value chain we pretend is functional. Nearly 60% of tourists use guides. Of those guides, 57% are unlicensed, untrained, and invisible to the very institutions claiming to regulate quality. This is not a marginal problem. It is a systemic failure to bleed value from every visitor.
The Invisible Workforce
The May 2024 “Comprehensive Study of the Sri Lankan Tour Guides” is the first serious attempt, in decades, to map this profession. Its findings should be front-page news. They are not, because acknowledging them would require admitting how fundamentally broken the system is. The official count (April 2024): SLTDA had 4,887 licensed guides in its books:
* 1,892 National Guides (39%)
* 1,552 Chauffeur Guides (32%)
* 1,339 Area Guides (27%)
* 104 Site Guides (2%)
The actual workforce: Survey data reveals these licensed categories represent only about 75% of people actually guiding tourists. About 23% identify as “other”; a polite euphemism for unlicensed operators: three-wheeler drivers, “surf boys,” informal city guides, and touts. Adjusted for informal operators, the true guide population is approximately 6,347; 32% National, 25% Chauffeur, 16% Area, 4% Site, and 23% unlicensed.
But even this understates reality. Industry practitioners interviewed in the study believe the informal universe is larger still, with unlicensed guides dominating certain tourist hotspots and price-sensitive segments. Using both top-down (tourist arrivals × share using guides) and bottom-up (guides × trips × party size) estimates, the study calculates that approximately 700,000 tourists used guides in 2023-24, roughly one-third of arrivals. Of those 700,000 tourists, 57% were handled by unlicensed guides.
Read that again. Most tourists interacting with guides are served by people with no formal training, no regulatory oversight, no quality standards, and no accountability. These are the “ambassadors” shaping visitor perceptions, driving purchasing decisions, and determining whether tourists extend stays, return, or recommend Sri Lanka. And they are invisible to SLTDA.
The Anatomy of Workforce Failure
The guide crisis is not accidental. It is the predictable outcome of decades of policy neglect, regulatory abdication, and institutional indifference.
1. Training Collapse and Barrier to Entry Failure
Becoming a licensed National Guide theoretically requires:
* Completion of formal training programmes
* Demonstrated language proficiency
* Knowledge of history, culture, geography
* Passing competency exams
In practice, these barriers have eroded. The study reveals:
* Training infrastructure is inadequate and geographically concentrated
* Language requirements are inconsistently enforced
* Knowledge assessments are outdated and poorly calibrated
* Continuous professional development is non-existent
The result: even licensed guides often lack the depth of knowledge, language skills, or service standards that high-yield tourists expect. Unlicensed guides have no standards at all. Compare this to competitors. In Mauritius, tour guides undergo rigorous government-certified training with mandatory refresher courses. The Maldives’ resort model embeds guide functions within integrated hospitality operations with strict quality controls. Thailand has well-developed private-sector training ecosystems feeding into licensed guide pools.
2. Economic Precarity and Income Volatility
Tour guiding in Sri Lanka is economically unstable:
* Seasonal income volatility: High earnings in peak months (December-March), near-zero in low season (April-June, September)
* No fixed salaries: Most guides work freelance or commission-based
* Age and experience don’t guarantee income: 60% of guides are over 40, but earnings decline with age due to physical demands and market preference for younger, language-proficient guides
* Commission dependency: Guides often earn more from commissions on shopping, gem purchases, and restaurant referrals than from guiding fees
The commission-driven model pushes guides to prioritise high-commission shops over meaningful experiences, leaving tourists feeling manipulated. With low earnings and poor incentives, skilled guides exist in the profession while few new entrants join. The result is a shrinking pool of struggling licensed guides and rising numbers of opportunistic unlicensed operators.
3. Regulatory Abdication and Unlicensed Proliferation
Unlicensed guides thrive because enforcement is absent, economic incentives favour avoiding fees and taxes, and tourists cannot distinguish licensed professionals from informal operators. With SLTDA’s limited capacity reducing oversight, unregistered activity expands. Guiding becomes the frontline where regulatory failure most visibly harms tourist experience and sector revenues in Sri Lanka.
4. Male-Dominated, Ageing, Geographically Uneven Workforce
The guide workforce is:
* Heavily male-dominated: Fewer than 10% are women
* Ageing: 60% are over 40; many in their 50s and 60s
* Geographically concentrated: Clustered in Colombo, Galle, Kandy, Cultural Triangle—minimal presence in emerging destinations
This creates multiple problems:
* Gender imbalance: Limits appeal to female solo travellers and certain market segments (wellness tourism, family travel with mothers)
* Physical limitations: Older guides struggle with demanding itineraries (hiking, adventure tourism)
* Knowledge ossification: Ageing workforce with no continuous learning rehashes outdated narratives, lacks digital literacy, cannot engage younger tourist demographics
* Regional gaps: Emerging destinations (Eastern Province, Northern heritage sites) lack trained guide capacity
1. Experience Degradation Lower Spending
Unlicensed guides lack knowledge, language skills, and service training. Tourist experience degrades. When tourists feel they are being shuttled to commission shops rather than authentic experiences, they:
* Cut trips short
* Skip additional paid activities
* Leave negative reviews
* Do not return or recommend
The yield impact is direct: degraded experiences reduce spending, return rates, and word-of-mouth premium.

2. Commission Steering → Value Leakage
Guides earning more from commissions than guiding fees optimise for merchant revenue, not tourist satisfaction.
This creates leakage: tourism spending flows to merchants paying highest commissions (often with foreign ownership or imported inventory), not to highest-quality experiences.
The economic distortion is visible: gems, souvenirs, and low-quality restaurants generate guide commissions while high-quality cultural sites, local artisan cooperatives, and authentic restaurants do not. Spending flows to low-value, high-leakage channels.
3. Safety and Security Risks → Reputation Damage
Unlicensed guides have no insurance, no accountability, no emergency training. When tourists encounter problems, accidents, harassment, scams, there is no recourse. Incidents generate negative publicity, travel advisories, reputation damage. The 2024-2025 reports of tourists being attacked by wildlife at major sites (Sigiriya) with inadequate safety protocols are symptomatic. Trained, licensed guides would have emergency protocols. Unlicensed operators improvise.
4. Market Segmentation Failure → Yield Optimisation Impossible
High-yield tourists (luxury, cultural immersion, adventure) require specialised guide-deep knowledge, language proficiency, cultural sensitivity. Sri Lanka cannot reliably deliver these guides at scale because:
* Training does not produce specialists (wildlife experts, heritage scholars, wellness practitioners)
* Economic precarity drives talent out
* Unlicensed operators dominate price-sensitive segments, leaving limited licensed capacity for premium segments
We cannot move upmarket because we lack the workforce to serve premium segments. We are locked into volume-chasing low-yield markets because that is what our guide workforce can provide.
The way forward
Fixing Sri Lanka’s guide crisis demands structural reform, not symbolic gestures. A full workforce census and licensing audit must map the real guide population, identify gaps, and set an enforcement baseline. Licensing must be mandatory, timebound, and backed by inspections and penalties. Economic incentives should reward professionalism through fair wages, transparent fees, and verified registries. Training must expand nationwide with specialisations, language standards, and continuous development. Gender and age imbalances require targeted recruitment, mentorship, and diversified roles. Finally, guides must be integrated into the tourism value chain through mandatory verification, accountability measures, and performancelinked feedback.
The Uncomfortable Truth
Can Sri Lanka achieve high-value tourism with a low-quality, largely unlicensed guide workforce? The answer is NO. Unambiguously, definitively, NO. Sri Lanka’s guides shape tourist perceptions, spending, and satisfaction, yet the system treats them as expendable; poorly trained, economically insecure, and largely unregulated. With 57% of tourists relying on unlicensed guides, experience quality becomes unpredictable and revenue leaks into commission-driven channels.
High-yield markets avoid destinations with weak service standards, leaving Sri Lanka stuck in low-value, volume tourism. This is not a training problem but a structural failure requiring regulatory enforcement, viable career pathways, and a complete overhaul of incentives. Without professionalising guides, high-value tourism is unattainable. Fixing the guide crisis is the foundation for genuine sector transformation.
The choice is ours. The workforce is waiting.
This concludes the 04-part series on Sri Lanka’s tourism stagnation. The diagnosis is complete. The question now is whether policymakers have the courage to act.
For any concerns/comments contact the author at saliya.ca@gmail.com
(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)
Features
Recruiting academics to state universities – beset by archaic selection processes?
Time has, by and large, stood still in the business of academic staff recruitment to state universities. Qualifications have proliferated and evolved to be more interdisciplinary, but our selection processes and evaluation criteria are unchanged since at least the late 1990s. But before I delve into the problems, I will describe the existing processes and schemes of recruitment. The discussion is limited to UGC-governed state universities (and does not include recruitment to medical and engineering sectors) though the problems may be relevant to other higher education institutions (HEIs).
How recruitment happens currently in SL state universities
Academic ranks in Sri Lankan state universities can be divided into three tiers (subdivisions are not discussed).
* Lecturer (Probationary)
– recruited with a four-year undergraduate degree. A tiny step higher is the Lecturer (Unconfirmed), recruited with a postgraduate degree but no teaching experience.
* A Senior Lecturer can be recruited with certain postgraduate qualifications and some number of years of teaching and research.
* Above this is the professor (of four types), which can be left out of this discussion since only one of those (Chair Professor) is by application.
State universities cannot hire permanent academic staff as and when they wish. Prior to advertising a vacancy, approval to recruit is obtained through a mind-numbing and time-consuming process (months!) ending at the Department of Management Services. The call for applications must list all ranks up to Senior Lecturer. All eligible candidates for Probationary to Senior Lecturer are interviewed, e.g., if a Department wants someone with a doctoral degree, they must still advertise for and interview candidates for all ranks, not only candidates with a doctoral degree. In the evaluation criteria, the first degree is more important than the doctoral degree (more on this strange phenomenon later). All of this is only possible when universities are not under a ‘hiring freeze’, which governments declare regularly and generally lasts several years.
Problem type 1
– Archaic processes and evaluation criteria
Twenty-five years ago, as a probationary lecturer with a first degree, I was a typical hire. We would be recruited, work some years and obtain postgraduate degrees (ideally using the privilege of paid study leave to attend a reputed university in the first world). State universities are primarily undergraduate teaching spaces, and when doctoral degrees were scarce, hiring probationary lecturers may have been a practical solution. The path to a higher degree was through the academic job. Now, due to availability of candidates with postgraduate qualifications and the problems of retaining academics who find foreign postgraduate opportunities, preference for candidates applying with a postgraduate qualification is growing. The evaluation scheme, however, prioritises the first degree over the candidate’s postgraduate education. Were I to apply to a Faculty of Education, despite a PhD on language teaching and research in education, I may not even be interviewed since my undergraduate degree is not in education. The ‘first degree first’ phenomenon shows that universities essentially ignore the intellectual development of a person beyond their early twenties. It also ignores the breadth of disciplines and their overlap with other fields.
This can be helped (not solved) by a simple fix, which can also reduce brain drain: give precedence to the doctoral degree in the required field, regardless of the candidate’s first degree, effected by a UGC circular. The suggestion is not fool-proof. It is a first step, and offered with the understanding that any selection process, however well the evaluation criteria are articulated, will be beset by multiple issues, including that of bias. Like other Sri Lankan institutions, universities, too, have tribal tendencies, surfacing in the form of a preference for one’s own alumni. Nevertheless, there are other problems that are, arguably, more pressing as I discuss next. In relation to the evaluation criteria, a problem is the narrow interpretation of any regulation, e.g., deciding the degree’s suitability based on the title rather than considering courses in the transcript. Despite rhetoric promoting internationalising and inter-disciplinarity, decision-making administrative and academic bodies have very literal expectations of candidates’ qualifications, e.g., a candidate with knowledge of digital literacy should show this through the title of the degree!
Problem type 2 – The mess of badly regulated higher education
A direct consequence of the contemporary expansion of higher education is a large number of applicants with myriad qualifications. The diversity of degree programmes cited makes the responsibility of selecting a suitable candidate for the job a challenging but very important one. After all, the job is for life – it is very difficult to fire a permanent employer in the state sector.
Widely varying undergraduate degree programmes.
At present, Sri Lankan undergraduates bring qualifications (at times more than one) from multiple types of higher education institutions: a degree from a UGC-affiliated state university, a state university external to the UGC, a state institution that is not a university, a foreign university, or a private HEI aka ‘private university’. It could be a degree received by attending on-site, in Sri Lanka or abroad. It could be from a private HEI’s affiliated foreign university or an external degree from a state university or an online only degree from a private HEI that is ‘UGC-approved’ or ‘Ministry of Education approved’, i.e., never studied in a university setting. Needless to say, the diversity (and their differences in quality) are dizzying. Unfortunately, under the evaluation scheme all degrees ‘recognised’ by the UGC are assigned the same marks. The same goes for the candidates’ merits or distinctions, first classes, etc., regardless of how difficult or easy the degree programme may be and even when capabilities, exposure, input, etc are obviously different.
Similar issues are faced when we consider postgraduate qualifications, though to a lesser degree. In my discipline(s), at least, a postgraduate degree obtained on-site from a first-world university is preferable to one from a local university (which usually have weekend or evening classes similar to part-time study) or online from a foreign university. Elitist this may be, but even the best local postgraduate degrees cannot provide the experience and intellectual growth gained by being in a university that gives you access to six million books and teaching and supervision by internationally-recognised scholars. Unfortunately, in the evaluation schemes for recruitment, the worst postgraduate qualification you know of will receive the same marks as one from NUS, Harvard or Leiden.
The problem is clear but what about a solution?
Recruitment to state universities needs to change to meet contemporary needs. We need evaluation criteria that allows us to get rid of the dross as well as a more sophisticated institutional understanding of using them. Recruitment is key if we want our institutions (and our country) to progress. I reiterate here the recommendations proposed in ‘Considerations for Higher Education Reform’ circulated previously by Kuppi Collective:
* Change bond regulations to be more just, in order to retain better qualified academics.
* Update the schemes of recruitment to reflect present-day realities of inter-disciplinary and multi-disciplinary training in order to recruit suitably qualified candidates.
* Ensure recruitment processes are made transparent by university administrations.
Kaushalya Perera is a senior lecturer at the University of Colombo.
(Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.)
Features
Talento … oozing with talent
This week, too, the spotlight is on an outfit that has gained popularity, mainly through social media.
Last week we had MISTER Band in our scene, and on 10th February, Yellow Beatz – both social media favourites.
Talento is a seven-piece band that plays all types of music, from the ‘60s to the modern tracks of today.
The band has reached many heights, since its inception in 2012, and has gained recognition as a leading wedding and dance band in the scene here.
The members that makeup the outfit have a solid musical background, which comes through years of hard work and dedication
Their portfolio of music contains a mix of both western and eastern songs and are carefully selected, they say, to match the requirements of the intended audience, occasion, or event.
Although the baila is a specialty, which is inherent to this group, that originates from Moratuwa, their repertoire is made up of a vast collection of love, classic, oldies and modern-day hits.
The musicians, who make up Talento, are:
Prabuddha Geetharuchi:
(Vocalist/ Frontman). He is an avid music enthusiast and was mentored by a lot of famous musicians, and trainers, since he was a child. Growing up with them influenced him to take on western songs, as well as other music styles. A Peterite, he is the main man behind the band Talento and is a versatile singer/entertainer who never fails to get the crowd going.
Geilee Fonseka (Vocals):
A dynamic and charismatic vocalist whose vibrant stage presence, and powerful voice, bring a fresh spark to every performance. Young, energetic, and musically refined, she is an artiste who effortlessly blends passion with precision – captivating audiences from the very first note. Blessed with an immense vocal range, Geilee is a truly versatile singer, confidently delivering Western and Eastern music across multiple languages and genres.
Chandana Perera (Drummer):
His expertise and exceptional skills have earned him recognition as one of the finest acoustic drummers in Sri Lanka. With over 40 tours under his belt, Chandana has demonstrated his dedication and passion for music, embodying the essential role of a drummer as the heartbeat of any band.
Harsha Soysa:
(Bassist/Vocalist). He a chorister of the western choir of St. Sebastian’s College, Moratuwa, who began his musical education under famous voice trainers, as well as bass guitar trainers in Sri Lanka. He has also performed at events overseas. He acts as the second singer of the band
Udara Jayakody:
(Keyboardist). He is also a qualified pianist, adding technical flavour to Talento’s music. His singing and harmonising skills are an extra asset to the band. From his childhood he has been a part of a number of orchestras as a pianist. He has also previously performed with several famous western bands.
Aruna Madushanka:
(Saxophonist). His proficiciency in playing various instruments, including the saxophone, soprano saxophone, and western flute, showcases his versatility as a musician, and his musical repertoire is further enhanced by his remarkable singing ability.
Prashan Pramuditha:
(Lead guitar). He has the ability to play different styles, both oriental and western music, and he also creates unique tones and patterns with the guitar..
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