Sunday Times 2
A traditional symphony
Flags waving, schoolboys taking to the street in trucks and on bicycles, yes, it’s March and we’re into the Big Match season when young and old are at the cricket grounds soaking in the atmosphere, the camaraderie and of course, the cricket. While shouts and cheers and songs fill the air, playing on in the background are a motley crew with an unusual combination of instruments trumpeting infectious tunes. Any crowd would agree that no match is complete without the all important papare band playing popular hits and keeping them on dancing from the beginning to the end of the match.
An integral part of Sri Lankan pop culture, papare music is primarily linked with cricket from national to school level, but today is associated with any kind of celebration. “Everyone loves papare music,” explains Mr. A.K.S.C.Alwis, an experienced musician who has been playing papare for the past 15 years. “We play everywhere from the S.S.C. grounds to five star hotels,” he smiles, explaining that he’s often requested to do a five-minute performance at weddings and other corporate functions.
Mr. Fonseka's papare band
A symphony of so many cultures, papare music traces its roots back to India. According to Kumara Karunanayake another musician, it origins are from the kovils using the ‘nadeswaran,’ a type of clarinet and the ‘Davul bera,’ an oriental equivalent to the bass drum. The music went from being a part of the Kataragama devale festivities to being a part of peraheras as the infectious music accompanying the Kavadi dancers. Today’s papare bands have exchanged the ‘nadeswaran’ for the trombone and saxophone but still use the davul bera.
“We like to think of it as an art form in itself,” the two explain. “Very few papare musicians read music” explained Mr. Alwis who himself is part of a professional band. “You have to have a good ear for it,” he added as the musicians have to be able to pick up any tune and play it continuously. “Even if we could use music notation it would be a bit difficult,” he laughed reminiscing about the strange places they have had to perform from – moving buses, lorries and even on rooftops.
While Alwis and Karunanayake got into the field by chance, many papare musicians learn the ropes from their fathers. “It’s like a tradition passed down from generation to generation,” reflected Mr. Karunanayake.
This year marks their 14th year at the Royal-Thomian Big Match. Originally a group of seven, Mr. Alwis now has 135 papare musicians working under him playing at the different tents. Keeping the Royalist camp going by playing continuously throughout the day can be exhausting. But the Rs. 2000 that they bring in daily is an additional bonus for many of the musicians as for some, especially the drummers, being part of a papare band is a full time job. For others like Messrs. Alwis and Karunanayake who work day jobs this is some pocket money for a hobby. “I have two friends who have been performing with me for eight years now. They both have good jobs and don’t need the money, but they do it for the joy of it,” Mr. Alwis said.
Unlike in usual bands where reeds are used to produce sound papare instruments do without it. This means that the players go on for hours ending up with sore and split lips added to their fatigue. But it’s all in a day’s work for these two who hardly see their job as tiresome. “I like to think that we provide the feel for any event,” smiled Mr. Alwis, adding that they have many fond memories of the Big Match. “It’s nice to see so many people of all ages coming together and having a good time. The camaraderie and the togetherness between the old boys always amaze us. ”
54-year-old H. P Fonseka can hardly remember his school days growing up in Nayakakanda, Hendala. “The school I went to is no longer there,” he laughs but one memory seems to have been engraved in glorious technicolour as he proudly claims, “I have been playing in a band since I was ten.”
Tracing four generations of his family being in the band business, Mr. Fonseka says “that we should carry on the family business.” Having polished up his musical skills on the trumpet and bass to name a few he was a part of his father’s band from as early as he could lift most of the instruments.
Recalling his first experience of a Royal-Thomian, he laughs that he had to play in a moving truck!” Finding the whole experience uncomfortable he decided that “it was very difficult” and definitely not something he would do again. Yet 40 years later ‘the big match fever’ has claimed him and he can now play from moving vehicles, he laughs.
“It’s not that I had nothing better to do” says Mr. Fonseka who worked for 10 years as a part-time musician and then at a factory in Ekala but came back to do what came naturally to him.
Playing the trumpet alongside his “set” as he calls them is special for him because most of the members of ‘The United Band’ started off alongside him as boys of ten. Just like the Old Thomians he regularly plays for at the match enjoying the company of their oldest and perhaps dearest friends, Fonseka too says “most of the band have been around either from my father’s time or since I started. “We don’t take private contacts.” Being a part of ‘The Big Match’ for about 40 years, “we have played for the Old Thomians for about 35 years now,” he smiles.
The United Band is well aware of the hazards that come with being in an enclosed space where a “small fight” may occasionally break out. “We are used to it,” laughs Mr. Fonseka adding that they have become experts at dodging the occasional plastic chair or water bottle. “When you play at the match as long as we have, it’s just an occupational hazard you learn to live with.”
Managing to keep the beat going for so many years is simple according to him. “It all depends on what the crowd wants.” The needs of The Big Match undoubtedly being a ‘Papare Band’ to belt out everything from ‘biscuit-kudu’ bus tunes to baila, Mr. Fonseka has his army of five. “Two drums, three trumpets” he clarifies. When the United Band Plays at hotels, they have about six people and he can even put together 10 man band if need be.
It’s by no means an “easy job” as Mr. Fonseka puts it. Having faced dry spells, he and his band have gone months without work and “making ends meet is hard, but we manage” he says. Travelling is not that easy,” he says for lugging their load in public transport is something they avoid after learning the hard way about packing instruments into crowded buses. The Rs. 3000 each of his crew get for a day of playing at the Royal Thomian is stretched out to cover transport and food costs, which leaves them with not much to take back to their families.
But whether reflecting the pulse of an entire nation at the edge of their seat when the national cricketers are playing, or enjoying ‘the Big Match’ buzz, he is content to be with his men- “without the band, there just isn’t any fun.”