The lights go out, but I barely notice. Another power cut. Tonight is my birthday. We’ve ordered a nice bottle of wine, savoring it after a month and a half of sobriety in the Arab countries.
A few days ago, we experienced power cuts caused by storms when we first arrived in Sri Lanka. Now we’re in the tropics, where storms can be intense. But when the restaurant lights dim this evening, it’s not because of a storm. Instead, a cake with candles is carefully making its way toward me, carried by the restaurant servers, all lined up to wish me a happy birthday in song. I see the surprise in Jurgen’s eyes as he immediately says, “It wasn’t me.” The cake is delicious. Anna is beaming. It’s so important to her that my birthday is a special day. “Was it you, Dad?” she asks. No, we soon discover that it was Benny, our driver, who arranged everything.
Benny is now a part of our journey. He welcomed us at Colombo airport at 5 a.m. and drives us wherever we want to go. It’s a luxury that Jurgen appreciates after being our family driver in Jordan and Oman. Now he can finally enjoy the scenery.
Today was a very hot day. We set out to explore the ancient city of Anuradhapura and the sacred mountain at Mihintale. Pagodas, temples, and other places of worship. The site is vast—impossible to see everything in a single day. At every pagoda, we take off our shoes, cover our legs and shoulders, and bare our heads, all under the scorching sun and in the tropical heat. Our feet burn on the hot stones, bruised by the gravel, while we’re wrapped in scarves with our heads exposed to the blazing sun, discovering Buddhism. One, two, three, and yet another stupa. I find myself wondering, can we go inside? Benny explains that there’s nothing inside. It’s a solid, round mass made of millions of bricks, like a breast resting on the ground, pointing towards the sky. There are a few temples around, tables for offering flowers, coconuts, fruits, and other treats, which the macaques devour, leaving nothing for the god who isn’t a god, Buddha. And we walk around, like hundreds of Sri Lankans who come to this city on pilgrimage.
“Who is Buddha?” the kids ask me. “Why is there nothing inside? What are they singing? Why doesn’t the man in orange have hair? Why is Buddha sleeping? Are kids monks too? Why does that tree have gold poles holding up its branches? Why are Buddha’s hands like that? And why are they orange?” So many questions, and no answers.
The day ends at Mihintale with a climb to another stupa on top of a hill where Buddhism was born in 247 BC. I don’t feel like taking the stairs under the blazing sun without my shoes. My feet are now winning over my curiosity. I decide instead to take the shaded path that seems to lead up the hill from the other side, where a Sri Lankan family had just started walking. We only pass locals coming down, and after reaching a stunning viewpoint, I quickly realize why. These people are not pilgrims; they are believers renovating one of the stupas. They are laying new bricks and cementing the foundations. We are not where we should be. This path leads to a construction site.
I love these moments when a mistake lets us see behind the scenes. Jurgen grumbles a bit, scolding me for choosing this route. “I get it now, why everyone was looking at us.” But on a journey to discover the unknown, we must allow ourselves to make mistakes.
All day, I kept repeating the same thing: we learn… Every little thing that doesn’t go as planned is a lesson. I let myself be inspired by the day. It’s my birthday. I’m also struggling with the heat, but I don’t want it to overshadow everything. We left too late, we don’t have the right clothes. We should have brought socks, been better prepared for exactly what we wanted to see… It’s easy to find fault all day long, but today, even my mistakes make me happy. I’m happy to learn, to discover, and to share this day with Jurgen and the kids.
We finally find the entrance, the view is magnificent, and once again, we are full of questions. We look out over the forest stretching below us, where we see the white tips of stupas peeking through, the vast water reservoirs dug to hold water, and the scattered massive granite boulders dotting the surrounding forest in strange patterns.
The next day, we visit Sigiriya and the famous Lion Rock. This ancient capital succeeded the one we visited the day before and was built by King Kasyapa in an improbable location—atop an inaccessible rock with steep cliffs. 1,860 steps to climb. Unfortunately, he didn’t get to enjoy his fortress for long; he committed suicide on the battlefield while fighting the army of his half-brother, who accused him of killing their own father to seize the throne. Each king had his capital, and his successor would move it again to the third city we will visit: Polonnaruwa. This time, we are better prepared, with socks to protect us from the hot stones and gravel.
We will also visit Dambulla and its cave temples, where we will almost feel like we are entering an Egyptian temple with its statues and frescoes. And then there are all the elephants carved into the moonstones, the temple borders, and whose descendants we encounter along the winding roads…
In three days, we’ve traversed 1,500 years of history and begun to understand Buddhism, a quest for happiness and truth.
The day has been hot—very hot. Benny has brought us back to the hotel, and after diving into the pool to cool our feet, we sit down together for dinner to celebrate my birthday. Since this morning, I’ve been grateful for the chance to celebrate my birthday in Sri Lanka with my family.
Ultimately, if the secret to happiness is doing what you love, and the secret to success is loving what you do, then today, I’ve succeeded in being happy.
Globetrotterdammers 