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Remembering Avurudu past
By P. Munasinghe
Tomorrow another Sinhala New Year will dawn. But we hear the traditional raban no more.

I used to see the erabadu flowers in bunches on trees along the fences, lining a marshy area behind our house, but they are no longer there. Nowadays walls made of cement bricks have replaced tree-lined fences. Marshy areas are filled up and houses built over them.

With all the mildewed memories of new years past, the image of my grandmother stays fresh in my mind. I recall the actions of that courageous woman who remained stoic and cheerful throughout the hardships of life.

When we were very young, it was my grandmother who made 'konda-kavum' for the New Year. My mother being a school teacher did not know and did not want to make as 'kavum'. My grandmother's 'kavums' were not very elegant. They had a very short stubby 'konde', and the lower part of the 'kavum' was not a perfect circle. But they served the purpose (although at times we bit into hard grains of salt, as she used salt grains instead of salt water).

I cannot say that I was happy to get the New Year holidays. For during my childhood, school was a much better place than home because my father chose to correct our mistakes and reform us whenever he was at home. I was an obvious target because unlike my sister, I was not good at household chores. He believed in New Year rites and customs and would not accept a cup of tea from my mother before the auspicious time for eating. We would light a fire outside the house and wait in semi-starvation till the auspicious time came to eat kiribath. The time for money-exchange was a happy time for the children because mother would give as much as one rupee, in exchange for a ten cents coin given by us.

My grandmother would make 'konda-kavum' and hide them in a tin under a bed but we would always find and eat them before the New Year. She would never give us a hot one just out of the ‘thachchi’ because that would invite the evil spirits. She used to have a 'kalagediya' full of water by the side of the ‘thachchi’ with boiling oil because she believed less oil was burnt then.

After partaking of the New Year meal, neighbours exchanged gifts. A gift was invariably a plate containing kiribath, kavum, an over-ripe plantain or two, a few biscuits and aggala or aluwa, which no one wanted to eat. I am sure every household had kiribath and sweetmeats on that particular day. Very often a neighbour's child would bring the plate and we would ask him to sit down, serve him kavum, kiribath and a cup of tea, and send him back with another plate of kavum and kiribath of our own. I do not know whether this exchange of gifts strengthened friendships or not. It was the custom and a real headache for me as I grew up, got married and had a home of my own with a family without knowing how to make kavum, aggala and aluwa.

New year festivities are enjoyed not by adults alone but by children. The more varieties of sweets are prepared in the house, the happier the children. I always wanted to buy the sweetmeats from a boutique because I knew that I could never make a kavum with a real 'konde' and making aasmee was a magic craft. But my husband would not think of buying sweets. So he ground measures and measures of raw rice and mixed them to make kavum without knowing how exactly to do it.

Once there were some powdered soya packets in the kitchen and he mixed them too with the batter to make it more nourishing for the children. But that was a disaster. Two huge pots of batter were kept in the fridge for a long time and then thrown away after they turned bad.

Now the children are older and the New Year has become much simpler for us. My eldest daughter has married and left us. My second daughter is abroad and only our youngest daughter will come home for the New Year vacation, but she is no longer a child. The sweetmeats will only be needed when exchanging presents with the neighbours; but we could always buy them!

Naran and Sedhi kavum
By Kariyawasam G.G. Dayananda
The preparation and eating of certain sweetmeats are very much a part of the Sinhala New Year, that has come down from the days of yore.

Avurudu Kema fills every house, from the affluent bungalow to the humble hut across the country.

The Aluth Avurudu Mesaya is laid out with kiribath, kavum, kokis, athiraha, aasmee (or assadha) aluwa, mun aluwa and some other traditional sweetmeats with plantains. Among these foods, kavum takes pride of place.

Traditionally kavum has to be prepared by the housewife. Once prepared, the sweetmeats are stored in chatties or cane boxes not only to adorn the festive table but also to be distributed among kith and kin.

In ancient times when paying homage to the king during the New Year, the chieftains had to bring thagi bhoga (gifts and grain) including the compulsory food of kavum.

Even today, this custom is followed by villagers who carry a Kavum pettiya (box) to the homes of loved ones.

A European trader, Cosmas, noted that kavum had been taken to the Roman court of Emperor Claudius during the 6th century. Cosmas, who visited Ceylon in 545-550 AD, mentions that gold, gems, pearls, delicious fruits, Kavum and Kalu dodol from Ceylon were presented to the royal court by the country's ambassadors.

Generally, oil cakes are made of rice flour mixed with treacle fried in coconut oil. Pouring the batter for a kavuma into a sizzling pan of oil, the shape is made with a thick spike or pol iratte from the centre, which is called buriya (navel). This requires much skill. The kavuma is taken out of the boiling oil when it turns golden and as such it is called run van kavum.

The Dhathuwansaya noted that there were 18 kinds of kavums including, Sedhi Kavum, (kavum made by the spoon) mun loalu (Kavum made of green gram flour), ulundu kavum, kavum made of ulundu flour), uthupu (kavum made by using coconut shell) and ginipu (fire kavum).

Another delicious one is the konda kavum, the upper part of which resembles a knot of hair.

Another is naran kavum, which takes the size and shape of a mandarin. It is prepared to a different recipe, with the batter being more like the rotti mixture with coconut and smeared with sugar syrup. Garappu kavum (oil cake made with a fork) would have come about after the arrival of Europeans who introduced the fork to Ceylon. Here the batter is put on a fork, rolled into a cigarette shape and fried.

The Pana kavum (oil cakes made of scum or froth) is a rare variety these days. It took the shape of a comb. Undu kavum is mentioned in the verses of devil dances and ritual ceremonies, with the demon of the cemetery said to be very fond of this delicacy.

The verses describe the Sohon Yakaas food tray as having sesame-milkrice, oil cakes of ulundu flour and roasted meats. The yaka is supposed to eat this food and cure the patient on the sixth day.

Diya kavum is meant to be a liquid food prepared for those who cannot digest the more rich, oily kavums.

Whatever its names and wherever kavum originated, it is a sweetmeat enjoyed by both young and old during the Sinhala New Year.

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