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Celebrating January 1, 2000 in Sri LankaMomo brought the message from Dr. Ari that I was to be at his place at 8:45 in the morning to be ready toleave for Anuradhapura. He changed the time from 1:00 so that he could make it to his appointment to kissthe Bodhi tree before evening, and so that I could get to the district center to start my research. So, I gotmyself to bed by 1:30 a.m. after sad phone calls from mom and dad and Richard and the kids, and after stuffing my things into a backpack while gathering extra toilet paper from Karun-aka, and winding up mymosquito netting.On the morning of the 1

I got up too early to an unusually great Canteen breakfast of kiri bat or milk rice.Milk rice is served on all auspicious occasions, the first day of the New Year being one. Served with it are adelicious concoction of shaved coconut with peppers and hot onions, called polsambol. I then walked over to the guardhouse where Dr Ari was waiting. He shepherded me to his home and insisted that I haveANOTHER breakfast, as he is supposed to wait for a visitor (I being the only visitor there) to eat the first bite of food on the first day of the New Year for good luck. Realizing how historic this was, I ate again--another great breakfast of kiri bat. We waited around his house for a very long time while people frominside and outside of Sarvodaya came to prostrate themselves before him and wish him their respect on the New Year. Literally, people brought beetle leaves in their hands, and placed themselves on their knees, onthe floor in front of him, head down arms outstretched in front of them in prayer. I spoke to his wife, Neetha-aka, who from time to time was the receiver of such prostrations herself.FINALLY, we left his house only to get in his brand new Volvo S40, and drive about a half a mile toChadika’s house, who is his eldest daughter. She was sick, sick with some sort of asthma-- so sick that itworried me to look at her. Dr. Ari gave her a speech about plugging into the healing energy and told her thatshe was one of the reasons he was going to Anuradhapura (“too many doctors in the family… they need to be totally vegetarian and meditate to health”). She prostrated herself in front of as we walked out the door to the garden and out to the car.We then got in the car and drove another mile to Vishva Lekha, the Sarvodaya printing press, where therewere probably a hundred people waiting for Dr. Ari to begin the “family gathering.” After several longspeeches, the longest by Dr. Ari about Christ and the significance of the year 2000, we went upstairs to eateven more food. I couldn’t eat another bite but could manage to drink more tea. More prostrations. After staying there for another hour or so, we picked up two of his best friends-- Susiri, his friend who runs theVishva Lekha press, and Dharma the retired principal of the boy’s school where he used to teach-- andheaded out to what I supposed would be Ahuradhapura (although at this point I wasn’t sure where we weregoing to end up).

I fell asleep in the back seat of the car, in spite of Dr. Ari trying to talk to me. I awoke to Dr. Ari the race car driver. He was accelerating and breaking around vehicles, cows, bicycles, people on foot and tri-shaws,yelling back to me “Denese, I’m testing out the new machine! But don’t worry I am protected by the gods!”I was pretty sure that if anyone was protected it was he, although I didn’t know how many folks on the roadwould be safe if he kept up the erratic driving.I was so full and possibly car sick that I couldn’t possibly think of food, but Dr. Ari kept saying, “Denese is

sooooo

hungry.” So, finally we stopped under the shade of a forest of beautiful old trees in a protected area,and ate a boxed lunch (actually the rice, curries and chutneys are wrapped in saran wrap-- a substitute for banana leaves-- then wrapped in newspaper and placed in a picnic type box. The newspaper wrappingkeeps the food warm). We got back in the car and Susiri and I slept again for an hour and a half until wewere almost to Anuradhapura, some 200 from where we started out, which because of the road conditionsin Sri Lanka is like driving 400 plus miles. We arrived at the District Center to Winsor’s and Thalatha’shouse, which is inside the iron gates of the Anuradhapura District Center. It is a lovely landscaped place,where luscious flowers surround the house and where the beds outside appear “swept.” Fat buds from the pink poinsettia trees dripped over the doorway, and clay pots loaded with red, chocolate and orangeanthurium were strewn on the ground in the front yard. Interspersed around them were small containersfilled to the brim with different sizes of ferns and bright, delicate flowers.I tip toed around the plants and inside the house where we had tea and fruit. Then we were whisked off tosee the Bodhi tree-- but not before Winsor made sure that I had my passport. I was in Dr. Ari’s car, andWinsor led the way in his white Mitsubishi truck through numerous military checkpoints guarded by menand women soldiers who were carrying some pretty serious looking guns, wearing camouflage-gear withflack jackets--complete with grenade belts encircling their waists. Each of these soldiers was sitting or standing around black and red 10X6X6 foot corrugated metal huts, all of which were hidden from our initial view behind big black, white and yellow striped oil drums that had, what else, flowers planted ontop!Apparently most people walk to the tree. However, because of Dr. Ari’s stature they arranged for him tohave a pass and we were allowed to drive to the center of the ruins, even side-stepping most of the check points and searches. Five years ago the LTTE massacred 300 pilgrims there on a holy day, with this guardstructure being the result. Finally, we hit the end of the road and got out of the car, barefoot, walking toseveral stations where we were searched, the guys at the “man’s” side and me at the “woman’s” side.Finally, we entered through the main gate, where we were thoroughly searched—breast and groin pats--again at an inner chamber, usually in a hut or enclosed room with a ratty curtain hanging at the doors toshield the room from outside view.

We then headed straight to a rot iron “tree” of many little cups that were to be filled with a bottle of amaretto colored oil we brought. In each of these, we placed little wicks that we lit (the Singhala version of the votive candle at the Vatican) but only after Dr. Ari told me to “touch the bottle of oil” as he poured it inthe little containers. Not knowing what to do, I said a prayer each time I touched the bottle. We meditatedand prayed, and as I looked around I saw gray monkeys sitting stoically on top of the 2500-year-old ruinsin back of us, some with their young in their laps. Then, Dr. Ari lit a hand full of incense. He gave one bunch to me and pointed to where I should place it. Following directions, and with great effort, I stuck probably 20 sticks of incense, one-by-one in the brass containers filled with sand awaiting such gifts.After running past the candles and through a gate, I finally caught up with Dr. Ari, after which, we walkedup the stairs to the Bodhi tree entrance. One of the district employees then offered me a tray of white, thick- budded lotus flowers, one of which I took. I walked up to an altar filled with flowers and prayed with myhead down, hands in prayer with the flower in them above my head, and deposited the flower in an offeringto their Lord Buddha. Just as when I was in the Vatican, my eyes filled with tears. We then sat andmeditated. After a time, we left and went to another vantagepoint farther away from the masses of people but facing the Bodhi tree, and meditated again. From time-to-time people would recognize Dr. Ari andwould prostrate themselves before him.We went to another alter, inside a building with a very large and colorful Buddha sitting in a meditative posture, and offered more flowers, which were promptly arranged according to color and type by attendants(different colors going to different locales). We finally left the center of the Bodhi tree and went to the headmonk’s dwelling to offer gifts. When he didn’t come, Dr. Ari abruptly got up and left, leaving the gifts on atable. We exited the ruins without incident, driving past smiling guards carrying big machine guns.We came back to Winsor’s house to more tea, and then Dr. Ari suddenly looked at me and in his high pitched voice, said, “are you going to come and see the show?” So, I said, “why not?” and I got in his new blue car with he and his buddies and went several kilometers to a monk’s house who always helps Dr. Ariusher in the New Year. We showed up at this house and this smiling monk met us—and like all monks inSri Lanka he was bald and dressed in an ochre colored man’s sari-type garment, called a Seeu’ra, reservedfor Buddhist religious devotees. He was very jolly and laughing and told Dr. Ari that he woke-up thatmorning knowing that Dr. Ari would come. At that point he said he cleared his calendar and asked that theevening be left free for us.He showed us into his cement home, painted many colors—blue, yellow, red and white-- with carvingsoutside around the door itself, on the stoop (carved out of stone) and on the walls. He showed us into aroom with six white plastic lawn chairs against the wall, two of which had pink satin pillows decorated