Heard at the club

After a hard day’s work, we used to gather at our club in the evenings for relaxation and to be away from the cares of the world over the cups that cheer. Those evenings were most enjoyable, educational and diverting. Some indulged in idle gossip or discussions on current events. Some others played billiards or table tennis or chess or cards. There were still others who enjoyed their cups in solitude.

A club member, who had served in a Sri Lankan Embassy abroad, said that their Embassy parties were poorly attended, as the invitees were fed up with ‘orange juice’, as no liquor was served. He added that this ambassador never took his wife to any diplomats’ parties or get-togethers. One day at such a party, the wives of some diplomats staged a revolt and forced the ambassador to bring his wife to the party!

Another day, a former diplomat said that when he was serving in Burma, one of his daughters held a very successful exhibition of artificial flowers which she turned out herself. They were made out of bread. When the French Ambassador saw these flowers, he had quipped: “All these years I have seen nothing but bread made of flour and today I saw flowers made out of bread.”

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Way back in 1974, the then Prime Minister, Sirimavo Bandaranaike was on an official visit to Iraq. She stayed at the Baghdad Palace. As she was having a bit of a cold, she requested our ambassador to send her some kottamalli (coriander). So, complying with the PM’s request, our man sent a large flask of kottamalli to Baghdad Palace through the driver of one of the Embassy cars. The driver was an Iraqi. There were two heavily manned security check-points between the Embassy and the palace, and the driver was stopped at the first one and asked where he was going.

“To the Baghdad Palace to deliver this flask to the Prime Minister of Sri Lanka, who is staying there,” replied the man. “What’s in the flask,” snapped the sergeant in-charge of the checkpoint. “I don’t know,” shrugged the driver. The flask was opened, the contents sniffed, and the flask was passed suspiciously from hand to hand. “Step out,” ordered the sergeant, and pouring a goodly quantity of the contents of the flask into a large cup, handed it to the driver and ordered him to drink it. With a rifle pointing at his head, the Iraqi drank every drop, grimacing and spitting at the end of it. They watched him closely for several moments, and when he didn’t seem to be suffering any ill-effects, allowed him to proceed.

It was the same story at checkpoint two. He was asked to drink a copious draught, kept under close observation for a few minutes and allowed to go. The driver then arrived at the Palace and gave the flask to an official. The following day when our ambassador called on the Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike, she asked him in concern whether there was a shortage of coriander at the ambassador’s residence. “There was hardly half a cup in the huge flask you sent me,” she said. The ambassador explained what had happened, and everybody had a good laugh.

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When the Austrian Head of State visited Iraq, they played the Australian National Anthem by mistake (an unpardonable gaffe). So, our Ambassador took great care that our National Anthem would be played when Sirimavo Bandaranaike visited Iraq. We had a similar experience when we celebrated the Vietnam National Day, at Galle. It was a folk song that was played instead of the Vietnam National Anthem which was on the other side of the record!

Being in his early thirties, a certain club member was one of the youngest of the Sri Lankan diplomats. He once represented the Governor General of Ceylon, William Goppallawa, at the 2500th anniversary of the Pahlavi Dynasty in Iran. His wife accompanied him. The eastern dress elegance of his wife at this celebration was highlighted on Teheran Television.

One day this Ambassador demonstrated to the Philippine Ambassador how our illegal ‘national’ card game ‘booruwa’ (asking hitting) was played in Sri Lanka, amidst lot of police raids by calling for a particular card. The Philippine Ambassador had then said “Why waste time? In our country it is red or black.”

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One day a member told us of the expert pickpocket who was married to an even cleverer female pickpocket. “Soon, this woman became pregnant, and when her labour pains began, the local midwife was hastily summoned. The delivery was an uncomplicated one. But everybody noticed that the newborn’s right fist was tightly clenched. Fearing some sort of deformity, the baby’s mother with great difficulty pried open the little one’s fingers, and lo and behold, the midwife’s gold ring fell!”

Another day, a member reminisced of a giant of Galle (he was also a giant killer for he had defeated the almost invincible W. Dahanayake, then Prime Minister, at the March 1960 general election), the late W. D. S. Abeygunawardena, better known as ‘Peti Mahattaya’. As he stood gazing at the thousands of multi-coloured bulbs that illuminated the Galle ramparts on February 4, his mind went back 43 years to that unforgettable first day of the 4th of February, 1948, when ‘Peti Mahattaya’ lit the ramparts at his own expense and gifted 10,000 popsicles to schoolchildren who took part in the Galle Independence Day Parade.

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This story is about a girl who sold a large member of tickets for a school variety show. She found everybody looking for feeble excuses not to buy a ticket. So, waving her ticket book, she would ask the prospective victims whether he (or she) was free on the 20th. “Sorry child,” the victim would hastily answer, “I have a very important, appointment on that day. If your show was on any other day, I would have brought ticket.” Then the smart girl would gleefully say, “Good thing that your appointment is on the 20th, for our concert is on the 21st.”

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One member was a clever crackpot. One day when a member ordered a pack of Bristol cigarettes, he asked this member whether he knew that the word ‘Bristol’ is actually an acronym? The letters, he said, stood for Brithanya Rattay Inna Sinhalayange Tikak Oluwa Lokui! (The Sinhala expatriates in Britain are a little swollen-headed). Of course, we are familiar with the fake accents and superior airs of some of them. Not only they, another began speaking with an accent on the day his brother left for Europe!

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A friend, a planter, who went to Kandy was on his way to Galle. He was coming all alone, when at the Kandy Town, a charming lady signalled him to stop and asked him whether he could give her a lift to Colombo. To our friend, it was a godsend. They chatted and joked all the way, when at the Kelani Bridge, all of a sudden she switched off the engine of the car and hid the key inside her blouse, demanding Rs.1,000 to give back the key. Just then, two thugs appeared at the scene and they threatened him to pay the money or face dire consequences. It was a set-up.