Home-comings – Sri Lankan style

By Godaya

First off, I think we are the only country in the world with the tradition of having a Home Coming. It's one of those (grammatically wrong) Sri Lankan phrases which refer to a unique Sri Lankan practice. The roots of the said practice (as far as I've figured out) are quite interesting.

In the olden days, the groom went all the way to the bride's place to fetch her. Hence the traditions of the bride's family hosting the wedding, the younger sibling washing feet (or the modern day equivalent of pouring water onto shoes and pretending to wash feet) etc. etc.. Then after the whole ceremonies are done, the groom would be accompanied by the bride's entire family on his way to HIS house. Hence, direct, utterly meaningless translation of Gedara Enawa to Home Coming, and the tradition of the groom's family hosting the said event, including the groom's relatives eyeing the size of the dowry.

Well, enough with (my version of) the history of the whole deal, and back to the Home Coming. So here we are my parents and I, arriving as late as ever. Since this is one of those deals where the event is something of a house party, and not using a wedding planner, the first task is to find a place to sit. Two interesting things are to be noted here.

Both my parents and I are Sri Lankan (Duh!). Therefore, we look for someone we know. This, despite me doing it, is one of those things which I'm yet to comprehend. I mean, here we are, at a place where there are couple of hundred tipsy people whom we've never met, who are more than willing to call you putha / duwa / aunty / uncle / jack-in-the-box, and we look for someone we know. Quite anti-social, I think.

I've broken my specs. This, for the few readers out there who know me, would mean quite a bit. See, I'm blind as a rock, even with my specs. You probably haven't heard that term before, and that's quite okay, as that's a term that I just invented. As comparing myself sans the spectacles to Bats, would be an embarrassment, and an injustice to Bats. And as you might've realized at this point, I tend to veer a wee bit off topic at times.

So after a couple of minutes of peeping around (I have no other word for it!), we manage to find a couple of family friends and the chitter chatter began. Time now? 9pm. The booze starts to flow, people's jackets come off, and ties are loosened alongside their tongues, and the party is in full swing. Time now? 10:30. Any sign of food? No. This is another uniquely Sri Lankan tradition: Stuffing yourself with "bites" and not having space for food (which arrives late, really late).

So we eat. And oh the criticisms flow, something is spicy, something is salty, the chicken is chunky, the fish were alive, and the ice carving blinked. And then comes the oh-so glorious part of the night.

The goodbyes. And I can picture fellow Sri Lankan nodding knowingly. When we were evolving, somewhere couple of centuries back, we lost the gene of "saying goodbye, and then leaving". In its place what we Sri Lankans have got is a "saying goodbye, hanging around for another hour, and leaving" gene, which sounds deceptively similar, but performs a totally different action.

So, after the numerous goodbyes to the couple, the family, the friends, the caterers, the people at the parking lot, we leave. I think the Sri Lanka Tourist Board hit the spot with their tagline: A land like no other!