Features
Remembering Elmer de Haan – Colombo’s irrepresible eccentric
by Hugh Karunanayake
Very few, if any, in modern Sri Lanka would aspire to the levels of eccentricity displayed by Elmer de Haan, self styed Citizen of Wellawatte, who passed away 43 years ago in 1979. It is therefore time enough to look back into the life of an unusual man well known in 20th century Colombo.
Elmer de Haan was a cynic, iconoclast, and sceptic, all rolled into one hilarious personality. His proud claim was that he belonged to the island state of Wellawatte, a suburb of Colombo to everyone else but him! De Haan had a subtle point however, which he thought went over the plebian heads of his detractors, who he would condescendingly consider as part of the city’s hoi polloi.
Wellawatte is an island he would insist, surrounded by the sea on one side, and by the Dutch canal which wrapped round the suburb, giving it the insular and unique character that made it stand out from the surrounding suburbs of Colombo. Where in Ceylon he would ask, would you find this unique mix of the rich, the middle class and the poor, and the ethnic make up of Sinhalese, Tamil, Burgher, Malays, Muslims, Chinese, all living in harmony as in a large happy family? Not anywhere in Sri Lanka he would say, not until the communal bogey was raised by politicians with their own agendas.
Elmer de Haan lived down Sinsapa Road, opposite the Savoy Cinema in Wellawatte. He was a familiar sight in the area, riding his bicycle with a pet monkey perched on the handle bar. The monkey would at times leap off the handle bar on to his shoulder as he cycled, distracting Elmer’s eyes from oncoming traffic, causing on coming motorists to brake or sound their horns .Not one to be easily intimidated, Elmer would give the motorist the “clenched fist with upright middle finger” salute, the significance of which, fortunately most did not understand in those days. He may well be the originator of digital abuse so well known and practiced across the roads around the world today.
For some years de Haan’s bete noir was C.V. de Silva who owned the Plaza Cinema, and later the Savoy Cinema. De Silva lived in a neighbouring street and had a high regard for de Haan’s musical talent. De Haan however would never forgive him for building the Savoy Cinema on what was previously a bare patch of land used as a ground for weekend cricket, in which Elmer too was an eager participant, whenever he was not swimming in the sea at Wellawatte.
Before the Savoy opened in August 1949 with the premiere of the film The Jolson Story, a rumour was rampant around Colombo that the Savoy was sinking, and in danger of collapse. There was no need to second guess, as it was obvious that de Haan was the originator of the rumour!
Former President J R Jayewardene who was a contemporary of de Haan at Royal College, was also at the receiving end of some stinging barbs from Elmer, but was gracious in the acknowledgment of his eccentric schoolmate. Wherever he saw JR, he would run up to him and say” kohomada Dickie” accompanied by a hearty back slap. JR would almost always reciprocate affectionately, but at times wince with not a little embarrassment. That would make the day for Elmer !
Many of his peers at school and in the University regarded de Haan as gifted and extraordinarily talented. There was however, a little ‘something’ in his persona that made him rebel, and more often than not, to be confrontational with those in authority. At Royal College he roused the ire of Principal HL Reid by not rising from his chair when the colony’s national anthem “God save the king” was played. When asked by the Principal why he showed disrespect to the anthem, de Haan replied that he had nothing against the King being saved by anyone. He only disliked the music! De Haan was administered six strokes with the cane for his insolence.
At the university, he incurred the wrath of Professor Marrs, an imperialist at heart, who he fuddled into believing that he was donating a contribution to the war effort on Armistice Day, whereas de Haan was actually collecting money for the Suriya Mal movement organized by the Lanka Sama Samaja Party which he supported. It was no great surprise that de Haan’s career at the University ended not long after. He then joined the Customs Department where he served a brief period during which he vented his feelings to all and sundry, protesting against the corruption that was rampant in the Department.
The Head of the Department recognizing de Haan’s well known talents in the field of music made the regrettable decision to seek his views on the music to be played at the opening of the “Harbour Lights” carnival organized to raise funds for the war effort. De Haan suggested that if the Customs Department had anything to do with it, the most appropriate music to be played at the opening was ” Hear the robbers passing by” !! That brought his career in government service to a premature end. Elmer, however, settled into a life long career as a music teacher. He spent most of his time practising on the piano, and became quite adept as a self taught pianist.
He earned a living by giving what was euphemistically called “pianoforte lessons” to selected pupils who he would choose with meticulous care. He strongly believed that middle class parents were wasting money on kids who did not have the basic talent nor the ability to benefit from tutoring. Those children that he thought had no potential for professional advancement were rejected out of hand accompanied by a verbal blast that sent unsuspecting parents scampering for cover. De Haan mastered the spoken word especially unbridled invective. He specialized in vitriolic sarcasm which were the hallmarks of his reviews of piano recitals that he made for the Ceylon Observer and the Times of Ceylon for many years.
Elmer de Haan was born of Dutch-German ancestry and his forbears in Ceylon date back to the time of the De Meuron Regiment which had a significant role in the transfer of power from the Dutch to the British in the 1790s. His parents were god fearing, law abiding folk, but young Elmer turned his back on the Christian faith at the age of 11, and remained an agnostic until his death. He was stricken with cancer but the undaunted de Haan a realist to the end, invited all of his friends to a banquet dinner at the Hotel Ceylon Intercontinental a few weeks prior to his death. Despite the ravages of cancer, he exclaimed that he “wanted to make his farewells when he was alive”! His friend Amaradasa Fernando wrote an eloquent tribute to him to mark the 25th anniversary of his death, referred to the testament read at his graveside by another friend Fr Justin Perera which stated “I die as I have lived, an unrepentant unbeliever. I have never worshipped at the gods of myth and legend created by the Graeco-Jewish priesthood. I want it emphatically stated that since my 11th year, I have followed the reasoning and arguments of rational teaching’. An embarrassed Fr Justin Perera had made it explicitly clear that he was only carrying out the last wishes of a dear friend, and was seen making the sign of the cross and muttering under his breath ” forgive me father’
Elmer de Haan was laid to rest on June 19, 1979, dressed in a banian and pyjamas as decreed in his last will.
( Based on the article by the writer, which first appeared in The Ceylankan, the journal of The Ceylon Society of Australia #46 of May 2009)