Christmas in old Ceylon of The 1930s

by David Jansze

Here I am on the ocean liner THE PACIFIC SKY in the Coral Sea on a pre-Christmas voyage from Sydney to New Caledonia. 

The memories of how we celebrated Christmas in Sri Lanka come back.  The house was painted, the walls white-washed with low black tar edgings all round the rooms and the chairs were re-cushioned. 

The traveling tailor came home, measured the rooms, and made the curtains on our old Singer sewing machine. Red Mansion polish was applied on the cement floor, which got a shine from a heavy handled brush.  Cake making was a ritual, where my mother laid the rules and we offered to help.  We ate a good many cadjunuts and raisins when no one was looking. 

There was the wooden ice-box with sawdust and a heavy metal covering for slabs of ice.  Two weeks before Christmas the children were taken in a hired car to Pettah’s Main Street. The well known shoe store was T.G.M. Perera’s and we were fitted with the best shoes.  Even Jamaliya’s Shoe Store in Wellawatta took in orders for boots, the teenage fashion of the thirties.  Before World War II, there was Ono & Co. 

This Japanese toy shop owned by a Mr. Numano had a wonderful array of toys from Japan.  The Main Street tailor measured us, as we provided China silk for our shirts. 

The silk of course was bought in early November from the Chinese peddlers who plied their trade on bicycles. 

Some of the Chinamen carried their bundles on their back, with a heavy stick for balance.  Main Street in Pettah in the early thirties was very narrow.  It had to cope with the tram lines and bullock carts.

Our Christmas shopping included a visit to X.P. Paivas for lunch and ice cream.  Round the corner was The Rupee Store, where for one rupee you could buy many things.  Millers, Cargills, Simes and Whiteaways dominated the Fort shopping. 

We went to Hunters and Siedles and The Roche Brothers shops for many items. I cannot forget the shopping in the golden mile of Colpetty, Bambalapitiya and Wellawatta. 

The Wickremesinghe Brothers headed by George imported the famous Mende Radiograms from Germany.  We cannot forget the well known shops in Wellawatta: M.P. Gomez, A.W. Jansz, J.B. De Pinto, Nooranis, Jamaliya’s Boot Works and many famous boutiques. 

As a boy I went with my father to A.W. Jansz’s store near High Street. We bought Dutch Edam Cheese, as an accompaniment for the Christmas breudher.  I still remember Jansz bellowing to a tardy salesman: “What are you standing there shooting ‘papaws’?! Jansz sold liquor and all types of hardware.  We bought wire-netting to build chicken coops. The shopping spree in Colombo included a visit to Pilawoos for a treat of buriyani. 

Elephant House played a significant part in booking Christmas cakes.  Yet there was one last item that was in the shopping list: Fireworks. We gazed in wonder at the array of fireworks in the Fireworks Palace opposite the Fort Railway Station. 

Sparklers, Roman candles, sky rockets, Catherine wheels, squibs, crackers of every size were there in the showcase. Christmas was on.  The cake was made and sent to the bakery. 

The servants were pounding and roasting, making string hoppers and pittu, cutting up A.W. Jansz ham, with cutlets and seeni sambol. Churches saw long queues at the Confessional.  I remember well the Allied troops celebrating Christmas in Ceylon.  In the Seminary in St. Francis Xavier in Bambalapitiya, the African troops came for Midnight Mass. In Bandarawela, the Italian prisoners of war, brought tears into our eyes when they sang the Adeste Fideles.

As I look out now at a placid sea, the Christmas memories for an expatriate find no sequence. There were Christmas trees from up-country estates sent by train. Carol parties on Christmas Eve went about in lorries. 

Arthur Van Langenberg helped me to stage a massive Christmas pageant on Christmas Eve at St. Lucia’s Cathedral Square in Kotahena.  There were hundreds in the cast. 

The beautiful teenager Camille Cramer played Mary, as she was seated astride a real donkey, led by a young doctor, who played Joseph. 

As Gerry Paul hit the Police drums, the donkey took off, with Joseph clinging to its tail, and had the audience, including Mary in ripples of laughter.

As midnight came, there were a never-ending sound of fireworks and sky rockets, that would surely have awoken the Christ Child.  Carol parties came to the doorstep. 

At Kawdana, children in costume came around singing Sinhala carols. A handcart with an illuminated crib was the backdrop. They even brought a portable harmonium.

Of course the homes saw families sitting for a feast of string hoppers, ham, breudher, cheese, mulligatawny and cake. There were presents near the family Christmas tree. 

The postman, the dhoby, the baker, the fishmonger were the regular Christmas early birds. They all got cash, plus a tot of arrack or gin. As my ship went on its voyage, I was dreaming not of a ‘White Christmas’, but of the Christmases I spent in Sri Lanka. 

Nowhere in the world did I ever experience Christmas, as the Ceylonese prepare and enjoy it.  I can still hear the hustle and bustle in Pettah, the cries of the street vendors and the pavement hawkers. The wailing of the mamma-pappa balloon, the rattle of the toy-carts, and the delicacies from the gram sellers are unforgettable.