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Man-eater crocodile in Mankulam

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by Junglewallah

(Continued from last week)

Before leaving Mankulam area, I had an experience worth relating on one of my visits to Karupaddaimurippu . It was in July or August, the time of the drought. In a little hamlet called Olumadu, situated about a mile from Karupaddaimurippu, there was a tiny village tank that had dried down to about half its normal size. Visiting this village I was shown a villager who about a week earlier had been seized around his head by a small crocodile, approximately four feet long, whilst bathing. The wounds around his head had still not healed completely. The villager told Master and me that whilst ducking his head under the water, in the customary village style of bathing, he suddenly found himself gripped round his head.

Since the crocodile was small and he was close to the shore, he had struggled ashore with the crocodile still grimly gripping him by the head. The villagers who were close by had killed the animal. Its skin was shown to me, thus confirming both the story and the miniature size of the man-eater. One can only imagine that it was the absolute drought and scarcity of food that had made the crocodile attack a prey so much larger that itself. Since Olumadu is an isolated village tank, some 20 miles from the sea-coast and away from any estuarine river, the animal was almost certainly a marsh or tank crocodile (Crocodilus palustris) or geta kimbula. The skin shown to me was badly removed and too poorly preserved to make any definite identification possible, but for the reasons earlier stated it was in all probability a marsh or tank crocodile.

What was interesting is that the tank crocodile, unlike the estuarine one, is not reputed to be a man-eater but primarily a fish eater. It would appear, however, that hunger would make any animal forget its normal behavioral pattern and attempt to secure any kind of food that it thinks is edible.

 

Fishing in east coast

I had the good fortune, before the beautifully scenic east coast of our Island became a troubled area, to camp out and engage in fishing at practically all river and lagoon estuaries of the area. Starting from the north at Mullaitivu as far as I could recollect, they were Nayaru, Kokillai, Yan Oya, Puduvaikattumalai, Irakkakandy (Nilaweli), Salapai Aru (Kuchaveli), Kinniya, Kiliveddi, Genge (the main mouth of the Mahaveli), Ilangatturai (the mouth of the Ullakelle lagoon), Verugal, Vakarai, Batticaloa lagoon mouth, Oluvil (where the old Gal Oya flowed out to sea), Sinnamuttuvaram (where there was an idyllic little rest house, now alas no more), Komari lagoon, Kottakal,Arugam Bay lagoon, Heda Oya (or Naval Aru); Wila Oya (at Panama) Panakala, Kunukala, Andarakala, Itigala, Girikula, Yakala, Helawa and Kumana (where the Kumbukkan Oya flows out to sea). The other two estuaries on the east coast that I have visited but was unable to fish at, were Pottana in the Strict Natural Reserve (a lagoon mouth) and Pilinnawa, where the Menik Ganga flows out to sea. Both these estuaries lie within protected areas.

With regard to my experience as an angler, my mentor from schoolboy days and close friend in later years, from whom I learned virtually everything as an angler, was the late Lionel Gooneratne of the Excise Department. This Department had spawned a breed of outstanding anglers in addition to Lionel, such as Willie Obeysekera and Ronnie Grenier, but the one whom I knew most closely was Lionel. I have been his companion on trips to practically all the east coast estuaries named in the list, with the exception of Panakala, Kunukala, Andarakala, Itikala, Girikula, Yakala and Helawa, where my guide and mentor was the legendary Menika, de facto headman of the purana village of Kumana and jungle man par excellence. Menika had been presented with a fibreglass rod and a Penn 209 multiplier reel by one of his other jungle friends, Dr. Douglas de Zilwa (formerly Police Surgeon). When I came to know Menika, he was quite an adept at casting with that rod and reel. I learnt a great deal from him. Another close friend andngling companion from whom I gathered a lot about fishing was the late Frank Kelly of Trincomalee, who was employed in the Irrigation Department.

Yet another close friend from whom I learnt a great deal about trolling for fish in the Eastern seas, ranging from the Great and Little Basses up to the mouth of the Mahaweli, was Cedric Martenstyn. Cedric’s knowledge of fish and their habits gained through years of diving and fishing, could not be surpassed.

I was also fortunate in associating very closely and camping with two professional fishermen, Manuel Silva alias Vedamahatmaya of Nayaru, whose home at Negombo was in Pitipana, and William Nanayakkara of Kallarawa Yan Oya, whose west coast home was at Bopitiya, Pamunugama.

Another close fishing and shooting companion on the east coast was M. Rajavorathiam, the sub-postmaster of Komari and known throughout the area as “Raju”. I learnt a great deal from him of wild boar shooting in the east coast areas, and fishing at Komari Kalapu. Last but not the least of my mentors was Peter Jayawardena, who retired as Game Ranger at Lahugala in the Eastern Province, whose knowledge of the east coast estuaries, particularly from Sinnamuttuvaram down to Kumana, was unparalleled. Peter was also a close friend of Lionel Gooneratne, and what I learned from these giants, both by discussions and by the camping trips we made together, could not have been gathered anywhere else.

At the outset, it must be explained that at any estuary mouth, the fishing is best within the first hour or so of the change of the tide, and at the time of slack water (mandiya) just before the change of the tide. At some estuaries fishing is most productive on the incoming tide and at others on the outgoing, and it is difficult to say which is the case until one tries a particular estuary. Generally however, both changes of tide at the early stage produce fish, and the fishing is much better during the evening tide change towards dusk. It must also be mentioned that fishing is best about three or four days before the full moon, when the tidal flows governed by the waxing moon are strong. Additionally, ,the moonlight in the water eliminates the luminous effects of the sea plankton (called kabba in Sinhala), which otherwise has a tendency to scare off any predatory fish that is tempted to attack the artificial bait that is cast and retrieved by the angler. The kabba makes the retrieved artificial bait look like a miniature comet and no fish would go near it.

A tide change takes place approximately every five hours 55 minutes each day with about a 10 minute period of slack water between tidal changes. The outgoing tide, where the river or lagoon water flows strongly out to sea (ba dhiya) is followed by an approximately 10 to 15 minute spell of slack water (mandiya) where it is neither flowing out nor flowing in. Then follows the five hour 55 minutes of incoming tide when the sea water flows into the river or lagoon (vada dhiya). Each day the tide changes about one hour later than the previous day, governed by the rising of the moon, which takes place an hour later each day. My most extensive east coast fishing and shooting experiences were at Nayaru, south of Mullaitivu where I camped for a continuous spell of about three months from around March 1961. I was looked after like a member of his family by Manuel Silva (Vedamahataya), who built a small wadiya for me to live in. I used to visit Nayaru subsequently as well, at regular intervals.

My next most intimate knowledge of east coast estuaries was of Yan Oya. I have camped there every year in March or April from about 1965 till the 1980s, when conditions in the east became unsettled; and at Kumana and Komari again, where I camped regularly till the 1980s. The incidents recounted hereafter relate to both fishing and shooting, and also contain bits of local history gleaned from my outdoor friends.

 

Nayaru

Dealing with Nayaru first, in the early days I used not only to fish at the estuary mouth, but frequently joined Manuel Silva and his two stalwart sons, Philip and Joseph when they went out to sea in their big sea-going outrigger sailing canoe, a ruwal oruwa to do their daily fishing (rakshava, as they termed it) by hand-lining. Manuel’s family were purist hook-and-hand-line fishermen. They moored their boat out at sea, sometimes as far as five to 10 miles from the shore, over submerged rocks, mud flats and old wrecks, catching fish by hand-lines on baited hooks. They never used nets, saying they caught water- logged and decomposing fish.

When shoals of seer moved in, they ran with trolling lines cast out either with dead baits or the few artificial baits they had, which I had given them. It may be mentioned that artificial baits were virtually unknown to the professional fisherman at Nayaru in the early 1960s.

We had interesting encounters with denizens of the deep on these trips. On a run south of Nayaru towards Kokillai, we passed through a large colony of what must have been close to a hundred sea snakes, banded with yellow and black rings round their bodies and with vertically compressed tails. I subsequently heard that sea snakes gather in swarms during the breeding season.

On other occasions I have seen giant manta rays pass quite close to the ruwal oruwa. Since it had no engine noise, it probably did not scare off these fish. On another occasion, some distance from the boat, one of these giant rays leapt into the air, as apparently they sometimes do, and landed with a tremendous splash. There are conflicting views as to whether this is a manifestation of high spirits or an endeavour to get rid of irritating parasites.

Whales were also sometimes seen breaching the water, and the professional fishermen took them for granted. It was only much later, in the 1970s, that a foreign marine research vessel from the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute of the USA. along with our own famed marine zoologist, Rodney Jonklaas found that the area round Trincomalee was a gathering ground for whales, particularly humpback and blue whales.

According to Manuel Silva, his family from Pitipana, Negombo, at least from the time of his grandfather, belonged to that hardy breed of migrant fishermen. These fisherfolk migrate to the east coast in March each year, when the south-west monsoon sets in and makes the west coast seas rough. The east coast is then calm and there is a strong shore breeze, which is called goda sulang by the Sinhala fishermen, solaham by the east coast Tamil fishermen and kachchan by Wanni jungle villagers. At this time the fish are prolific in the eastern seas, affording good catches.

These migrant Sinhala fishing families were quite fluent in Tamil and used to live in complete harmony with their Tamil and Muslim brethren belonging to both fishing and farming communities. If at all they returned to their homes in the west coast, it was only for a short time during Christmas (they are mostly Roman Catholics). When the migrant fishermen returned for Christmas they sometimes stayed on until February and did fishing on the west coast when the seas were calm at this time. The north-east monsoon makes the east coast seas rough between November or December to February.

I found, however, that with the fishermen off the west coast becoming more numerous, an increasing number of migrant fishing families preferred to stay on in Nayaru and the other east coast encampments over Christmas and engage in lagoon fishing during this period (kalapu rakshava). Lagoon waters, being sheltered, remain calm and unaffected by the north-east monsoon that prevails at this time.

Among the anecdotes related to me by Manuel Silva of Nayaru during my camping days was an interesting account related to him by his grandfather.

During the days his grandfather was a pioneer among the fishermen in Nayaru, the area was desolate and thickly forested. The small group of fisherfolk used to walk from Nayaru to Kokkutudavai about four miles to the south, where there was a fresh water lake where they used to bathe and wash their clothes. The road ran through a deep cutting in a hilly area with brick-red soil (which still exists today); and the story goes that on top of the cutting in the forested cover there lived a leopard that used to periodically prey on the unwary fisherfolk who walked along the path. The leopard used to leap from the top of the cutting, seize its selected victim and take off into the opposite bank where the cutting was less steep. The fisherfolk had no defence except to go in numbers, shouting and beating drums. The leopard after taking a regular toll of victims, apparently vanished one day, possibly killed in some way by the resident Tamil villagers of Kokkutudavai, but how no one knew.

I counter checked this story with another old fishing family at Nayaru, and their account tallied. So, it seems that there were lesser-known man-eating leopards in our Island before those of Punani and Kataragama.

 



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Echoes of NM’s dismissal may have an impact on present crisis

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by Tissa Vitarana

Dr. N. M. Perera, one of the greatest politicians and statesmen produced by our country, was born on June 6, 1905.

In recognition of his stature as a freedom fighter, a trade union leader, an authority who consolidated parliamentary democracy in the country, an economist who defended the rights of the developing world and sacrificed political power to defend minority rights, he remains in the heart of the people 43 years after his death. Each year on June 6, it has become customary to celebrate his birth anniversary by paying floral tribute at his statue in Colombo. Leaders of the Left and many other political parties participated, together with some leading supporters of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP), which he had helped to form in 1935 with socialist objectives.

Among the chief speakers were the current Leader of the LSSP and the Chairman of the Dr.N.M.Perera Centre or his representative. Similar functions would be held at the statues in Thun Korale, Ruwanwella and Yatiyantota, in turn bi-annually.

As usual on June 6, 2021 the function was held, but only with three persons present as a token event, to conform with the three health regulations required to control the Covid 19 epidemic . As the present General Secretary of the LSSP I gave a short speech, the Chairman of the Dr.N.M.Centre who was unwell was represented by Ranil Vitarana, and the LSSP rank and file by Nuresh Rajapakse, a member of the PB whose ample size filled the space left by the absent LSSPers. We retired home to discuss how NM might solve the present crisis if he was alive.

The crisis that NM faced as the Minister of Finance in the SLFP/LSSP/CP Coalition Government in 1972 was far worse than what confronts us today. In 1972 there was the perennial crisis of over production that dogs the capitalist economic system. But in addition the fossil fuel price went up seven times due to the getting together of the oil producing countries to form a cartel, OPEC. The worst global drought in 30 years led to a severe food crisis, with thousands of deaths worldwide. As a result, due to the traditional import dependent policies of the UNP Governments, our people were in grave danger (e.g. the price of a ton of imported sugar went up from $ 40 to $ 600).

NM explained to the people the magnitude of the crisis and called upon the people to tighten belts, stop the import based luxury lifestyle, and develop an import substitution national economy, producing our food and developing value added industry (his budget allocation for science and technology was increased four times). The bulk of the burden should not be passed on to the people but borne by government and the rich. The direct personal tax on the rich was raised to a maximum of 75% (today it is only14%). He managed to balance the budget and in one year in office earn more than the loss. The strict import restrictions reduced the foreign trade deficit and helped to cut down foreign borrowing. The foreign debt was reduced to the lowest in our history.

Today the biggest problem is the high cost of living, mainly due to huge profits made by rapacious middlemen (big mill owners, local money lenders to farmers such as traders etc.). To end this NM and the coalition developed the producer cooperatives (such as farmers) and the consumer cooperatives as genuine peoples’ organizations. By direct dealings between the two he wiped out the profiteering of the middlemen. The cooperatives were so successful that NM brought down the price of essentials to affordable levels, and even gave a measure of rice free. The result was that no one died of starvation unlike in other parts of the world. Due to the opposition of the traders, outsourcing to them was not possible. The result was long queues at the co-ops. This and the other shortcomings were exploited by the media controlled by the rich to lay the blame on the government. They hid the global nature of the problem, but blamed the government.

Besides food shortages a major problem was the shortage of medicine in government hospitals and the high cost of medicines in private pharmacies. Prof.Senaka Bibile, a member of the LSSP, came up with his Medicinal Drug Policy, which was accepted by WHO. NM strongly supported it and it was implemented. The outcome was that medicines for practically every disease was available in all government hospitals free of charge. The shortages were overcome, unlike the situation that prevails today. The foreign drug companies got their governments to intervene and promise a large sum of money to the government to overcome the crisis, provided the NM and the LSSP was expelled. The finance portfolio was taken away from him, and he was given a minor post which he refused and the LSSP was forced out of the Government.

The CP left the next year and the SLFP suffered a major defeat in the 1977 general election. The UNP led by JR Jayewardene came to power in 1977 and opened the door for the commencement of the process of change referred to as neoliberalism. This ideology led by the USA reached its zenith throughout the capitalist world, most of all in America. But it was a failure. It was rejected by the Sri Lankan people at the last presidential and general election.

The anti-UNP political parties helped form the SLPP-led government and are committed to do everything possible to solve the economic, social and health problems facing the country and people.

Like NM, I and the LSSP are very happy that the neoliberal foreign market dependent policies have been rejected, and the commitment is to establish an indigenous economy, where local agriculture and value added industry are to be developed. A major problem is the Covid 19 coronavirus epidemic. In view of my training in virology and experience here and abroad in association with WHO, I could have made some contribution to overcome this problem. In addition where local value added industry is concerned I have already made a significant contribution as the Minister of Science and Technology when Mahinda Rajapaksa was President.

In the four years I established 263 Vidatha Centres, one in each division, and helped 12,300 micro, small and medium entrepreneurs to develop island-wide (17 exporters, 64 suppliers to Cargills and other food chains, and 53 to hotels). To promote large scale industry for the export market I set up a Hi-tech Centre, SLINTEC, with emphasis on nanotechnology near Colombo. But it would appear that I am not fit to be a minister, leave alone a cabinet minister. I wonder whether what happened to NM and Senaka Bibile had any bearing on this.

But why was Prof Sirimali Fernando, Senior Professor in Medical Microbiology at Sri Jayawardenapura University left out. For her post-graduate research in London she not only worked in the field of Virology, but also used the PCR. She could have seen that the PCR test (and the RAT) were properly standardized to give reliable results. Control of the epidemic will be difficult with many false positives and negatives.

You can understand what a person of NM’s stature felt when he was kicked out of the finance ministry, when what has happened to me is related. The only occasion that I could express my views was when the Health Advisory Committee of Parliament met on one occasion, at very short notice, with the Minister in the chair. I proposed that a National Committee of party leaders in Parliament be set up to interact with the minister to exchange views so that we all unite to fight this common enemy. Then truly national Covid committees could cooperate down to village level in the interest of all the people.

The minister turned this down and said that this Health Committee will meet twice a month and any party leader is free to come. Four months have gone and this committee has not met once since then. Secondly I proposed that as community spread had begun a new community based approach was necessary to control the spread and I gave an outline of the necessary measures. She rejected my assessment and approach, stating that it was still in the cluster stage. I said that the cluster approach could continue where indicated, but my proposal too should be implemented. She rejected this proposal.

I might mention that the day Dr. Fernandopulle was appointed as minister she invited me to meet her and I had a fruitful discussion with her for more than an hour. I hope that she will get the necessary support.

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Monastic food – vegetarian food (mildly selective)

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I was directed to the film series on food on Netflix titled Chef’s Table and enjoyed watching the first of series three. It was on the South Korean Zen Buddhist nun, Jeong Kwan, and her preparations of monastic food.

Jeong Kwan

(born 1957) is a Zen Buddhist and chef of . She lives in the Chunjinam Hermitage at the in , where she cooks for fellow nuns and monks, as well as occasional visitors. She had no formal culinary training but is now directing the preparation of vegetarian food in a café in Korea and has visited China and Japan as ‘food ambassador’. Temple food is literally food consumed by ascetic Buddhist nuns and monks. Since their goal is enlightenment, achieved by both mind and body, ascetic food aims at this great achievement – enlightenment.

The bustling Chef

Jeong Kwan ran away from her home in a northern province of South Korea at age 17, leaving her family of seven siblings. At 19 she joined an order of Zen nuns and took to cooking with joy, food for the nuns and monks in an adjoining monastery. She had learned to turn out noodle dishes when she was just seven years old. She refers to her being chef to monks and nuns as her way of spreading the Dhamma as food is a very important component of ascetic life, the food certainly not to be relished, drooled over, hungered for, but eaten mindfully to sustain the body in health and thus contribute to the development of the mind.

Jeong Kwan’s recipes use aubergines, tomatoes, plums, oranges, pumpkin, tofu, basil, chilli pepper, and other vegetables and of course rice or noodles. vegan, Jeong Kwan’s recipes omit garlic, green onions and leeks, which are believed to be mildly aphrodisiacal. In the Netflix film I watched, this fairly well set nun with a serene face and charming smile, grows all the vegetables used in her menus. She sows seeds or plants seedlings, tends then lovingly and then harvests what she needs day by day. She says however: “It’s up to nature and the plants themselves to stay alive. Time flows for them and for myself at the same pace.” Her philosophy on cooking monastic food is: “We cook food that can become one with the person eating it; then it functions like medicine inside our bodies.”

Most of what she used in the film were familiar to me. There was nelum ala or the ‘yam’ of the lotus used; and various leaves she gathered. She uses oil fairly freely in her preparation. I don’t know what oil it was. And of course kimchi is an integral part of what she serves each nun in small dishes; the typical Korean dish always present, made from a certain kind of cabbage dipped in sauces. Nun Kwan dipped into large clay pots of sauces, some of which were very old, the sauces I mean.

 

Vegetarian and Vegan

It is apt to define these two terms here. A vegetarian is one who does not eat meat or fish and sometimes other animal products, especially for moral, religious or health reasons.

A vegan is one who abstains from the use of animal products particularly in diet and believes in the “philosophy that rejects the commodity status of animals.” There are degrees of veganism. The term was coined by Dorothy Morgan and Donald Watson in November 1944. (Wikipedia)

 

Food served at meditation retreats

I wrote a fortnight ago about my experiences of meditation retreats at Parappuduwa Nuns’ Island off Ratgama, Dodanduwa, while Ayya Khema was living there and later; and about 10-day and shorter retreats undertaken at Dhamma Khuta Vipassana Bhavana Centre in Hindagala, Peradeniya. Both places were vegetarian. At Parappuduwa we served ourselves from dishes placed on a trestle table, after the resident nuns and any foreign persons in prolonged retreat, had had their meal. I recollect Ayya Khema would remain in her seat supervising us! I once reached out for a dish to pass on to my neighbour who I thought needed some from that dish. Ayya Khema reprimanded me for reaching out for a dish. I did not explain it was not for me but for another that I did what I did. Extreme respect!

At Dhamma Khuta we went up to the food tables in a two queues – men and women – and held out our plates for rice first and then down the line for the vegetable curries; just four sans red chilly, and a salad or leaf sambal. Everything was served in measured quantities. This was lunch at 11.15 – 11.30. We were served dessert, mostly fruit or a prepared simple pudding. For breakfast we were served boiled seed like green gram, followed by a cup of tea. We were allowed to keep tea and sugar in our dormitories and expected to drink plain tea after noon, which unfortunately some did not follow, copiously adding milk and even snacking, just as they broke the Golden Silence rule. In the evening at around 6.00 we were given the choice of half a glass of fruit juice or a mug of plain tea. Those on medicines were served a couple of biscuits and a banana.

Recollections are many but I will narrate just two. At the first ten-day meditation retreat at the newly constructed and not quite complete Dhamma Khuta picturesque Centre right on top of a hill, with Ven Goenkaji and wife living in the bungalow on the premises, we were rather choc-a-bloc since the organizers wanted to accommodate as many as possible at this unique retreat. We were three in most dormitory rooms with the previous meditators accommodated in the now defunct tea factory below, necessitating an arduous van ride in rain and mud and fog.

One of my roommates was obviously rich and definitely fussy, and oldish. She brought along a huge suitcase which covered half the floor of the room. My small bed was against the opposite wall so I had no jumping across or alongside it. She even brought a winter coat! Before bed there was a ritual she followed: munched crackers and cheese, thala guli and drained a mugful of beverage – cocoa or chocolate made with the hot water given each of us in our flasks after the evening gilanpasa.

The next recollection is me, a novice, standing at the narrow food table with helpers on the opposite side, ready with ladles. On the first day of the retreat, I stood at the rice dish at lunch, waiting for the server to give me another spoonful. I thought the amount served was totally inadequate. A slight wave of her palm to indicate I move on was missed by me. She then moved me to the curries with a big wave of her hand. The point in this story is that by the end of the retreat, say seventh day to tenth, I found the rice served me was too much and waved away the second spoon ready to descend on my plate. Even the measured, restricted quantity was found to be too much as the mind got calmer and body felt rested.

With Ven Goenkaji, samples of the cooked curries were taken to him to be tasted and passed as OK. At latter retreats, maybe Brindley Ratwatte or Damayanthi performed that task to see that not too much spices were added. But bland though the food was, it was so very well cooked by the village women who came to help. We ate with gratitude in our hearts to them, the organizers of the retreats and even the farmers.

A very significant point was that with the glass of juice or tea and the fresh cool water off the clay pots placed at strategic positions, I slept more soundly than at home. I found the cup of tea made before going to bed totally unnecessary and even impeded sound sleep until woken at predawn 3.30.

Conclusion: we normally eat far too much, especially at dinner!

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The Rajeewa Jayaweera I Knew

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For a fleeting period, Air Lanka (before its change to SriLankan) lit up the Oman sky, but it was all too brief, as was the life of the initiator of this success. We commemorate the first death anniversary of Rajeewa Jayaweera and recall with pride the achievements of this dynamic individual who left a significant imprint of Sri Lanka’s landscape among those living in the gulf states.

As a journalist my association with Rajeewa spanned over a decade in the nineties. He was a “stoic and principled” administrator who was forthright and considered in his views. As Manager of the Sri Lankan airline in Oman, he delivered exceptional service not only to our community in many ways over the period of his tenure, but also to those Gulf travelers visiting our island. I was amazed at his dedication, determination and discipline; he did not waver in his search for perfection.

When Rajeewa arrived in Oman in the second half of the nineties, Sri Lanka’s National airline was in the doldrums and was considered “just another airline” competing for a share of the Gulf’s travel market catering mainly to the Lankan workforce. Rajeewa’s vision was different, his desire was to raise the standard of the airline to be on par with the best, but he had to contend with the bureaucrats in Colombo. He faced up to the challenge. Not afraid to speak his mind and to take a firm position on issues that were

important to him and the airline, his persistence to enhance the image of the airline succeeded, commencing with the shifting of the airline’s office premises after 13 long years to a prestigious and prominent location. The airline’s logo was displayed for all to see.

This was followed by familiarisation tours to our Emerald Isle for foreign journalists and travel agents and Rajeewa accompanied them as tour guide, mesmerizing reporters with his in-depth knowledge of Sri Lanka’s history and attractions to leave them in awe.  Rajeewa was a true ambassador for the country and its airline, just like his late father, Stanley Jayaweera, a career diplomat of repute. In 1997, to coincide with 50-years of Sri Lanka’s Independence, Rajeewa hosted Air Lanka’s first-ever glamorous “Top Agents Awards” ceremony at the Muscat Holiday Inn.  The invitees were treated to an extravaganza of what Sri Lanka had to offer interspersed with a cultural show, traditional dancing, and authentic Sri Lankan cuisine courtesy of Jetwing’s finest chefs.  Rajeewa’s positive charm instantly propelled the

airline into the limelight, winning hearts and minds of the Gulf’s expatriate community resulting in Air Lanka becoming the preferred carrier of choice for their holidays. As a disciplinarian he may not have endeared himself to many, but he stood tall with his direct and “no nonsense” approach which provided the basis for the airline’s success in the Sultanate.

After completing his term in Oman, Rajeewa was transferred to Madras and then Paris continuing his drive in these two cities to improve the image of Sri Lanka’s national airline.

In later years Rajeewa bemoaned the plight of Sri Lanka’s national airline and mismanagement.  He had a fierce loyalty for the airline and represented his country with pride and would have been an ideal member to serve on the SriLankan Airlines board with his vision and experience. Unfortunately, those with vested interests thought otherwise and the island nation’s loss was Qatar Airways gain. Those who associated closely with Rajeewa will remember him as a strict disciplinarian with a strong work ethic and an abundance of skill. He was an outstanding role model for young people in particular. He was a beautiful, kind and much-loved friend. We are sad beyond words and extend our deepest condolences to Rajeewa’s family.

 

Clifford Lazarus

New Zealand

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