On Sal Mal Lane (59 page)

Demala
- Tamil (language)

Demalā
- derogatory term for a person of Tamil origin

Demala huththo
- Tamil fuckers

Dhaham Pāsal
- Sunday school (Buddhist)

dhal
- lentil curry

dhansala
- a stall that provides alms to people on their way to temple, usually food, drink, and flowers

dhara mudalali
- manager of a small store that specializes in wood

dhobi
- laundryman

Elankandiya
- “Ela kanda” refers to the banks of a stream; “Elakandiya,” a takeoff on that term, refers to a slum near Sal Mal Lane.

ekel broom
- broom made for sweeping the outdoors constructed by stripping each frond on the branch of a coconut tree and binding the stiff bark left together

gāthā
- Buddhist stanzas in the Pali language

genavane
- has been brought

gingelly oil
- sesame oil

goma pohora
- fertilizer made with cow dung

guruleththuwa
- long-necked clay jug into which boiled water is poured for cooling and for taste

hoonu bittara
- literally, “gecko eggs”; here, very small candy-covered anise

huththa
- fucker

ice-palam
- Popsicle

indul
- scent left behind by spices or curries when one eats with one’s fingers

Issarahata yanna.
- Move forward.

Jathaka tales
- folktales

Jooli hathay mala keliyay.
- Those born on the seventh will suffer terrible tragedy.

jungi
- women’s panties

kabal lansis
- trashy Burghers (mixed-race); equivalent to “white trash”

kachchan
- hot, dry winds usually associated with drought (Tamil)

kalu
- black or dark

kalu kella
- dark-skinned girl

kamak neha
- it does not matter

Karaniya matthakusalena

Yam tam santam padam abhisamecca

Sakko uju ca suju ca

Suvaco c’assa mudu anatimani

This is what should be done

By one who is skilled in goodness,

And who knows the path of peace:

Let them be able and upright, the epitome of humility

kassippu
- crude, home-brewed form of alcohol

kitul
- a palm tree that yields a sap, which produces a thick sugar or treacle

kohu
- coir

kolla
- boy

kottamalli
- coriander, roasted and prepared with water to soothe a cold or cough

Koti enawa!
- The Tigers are coming!

kovil
- a Hindu temple

kurumba
- the water from a young coconut

kusu-kusufying
- hobnobbing, fraternizing (slang)

lansi
- derogatory term for Burghers (mixed-race)

lansi ponnaya
- Burgher homosexual; slang, referring to ineffectuality

Letchumi
- Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of wealth; often used to refer to a Tamil girl (slang)

lungi
- a piece of fabric, usually cotton, that is used as a full- length, wraparound skirt; in Sri Lanka, it is worn by older women

machang
- friend or dude (slang)

Mahapiritha
- literally, “the great prayer”; refers to the Buddha’s Discourses, including the three main sutras, the Mangala Sutra (the auspicious factors), Ratana Sutra (the gems), and the Karaniya Metta Sutra (universal love)

Mahavamsa
- chronicle of Sri Lankan history from the coming of Vijaya in 543 BCE to the reign of King Mahasena, 223–361

mallun
- salad made of finely chopped green leaves

mehendi
- henna

mirisgala
- a heavy oval stone used for grinding chillies

muthu
- pearl (a variety of
samba
rice that resembles pearls)

Naa sahodaraya, gini kooru vitharay thiyenne.
- No, brother, I only have matches.

Nangi
- little sister

nebiliya
- a shallow steel bowl with grooves used for destoning rice

nona
- lady

paan
- bread

pakkali
- servility; literally, “currying favor” (e.g., running and opening the door of the boss’s car, carrying his bag, etc.)

Palayang!
- Get out!

palu
- the section in the front end of a sari, usually heavily embroidered

pandal
- a large colorful display decorated with lights; usually erected in public spaces during Vesak, they depict scenes from the life of the Buddha

Para Demalā/Demellu
- Tamil pariah/s

parisaraya
- environment (social and natural)

pchah
- clicking sound made by the tongue against the teeth

pirith
- the Sinhala translation of the Pali word
paritta,
which means “protection”; it is supposed to protect the listener, and is a recitation or changing of the word of the Buddha

pola
- farmers’ market, usually on Sundays

ponnaya
- slur for gay boy

pota
- a short term for the fall of a sari

Poth pennanna.
- Show us your books.

pottu
- mark made on forehead by Tamil women using various forms of dyes or pastes to signify marital status

Poya
- full moon day, which is always a Buddhist public holiday

PT
- short for “physical training”; also known as the “games period” in schools

Putha
- Son

Samavenna
- Forgive me

sambaaru
- a vegetable curry cooked with a mix of vegetables and lentils; a Tamil specialty

sambol
- a side dish made from grinding fresh coconut together with onions, dried chillies, and lime juice

sambrani
- natural resinoid benzoin that give off a scent of frankincense when burnt

sari pota
- the fall of the sari

satyagraha
- fast unto death for a political cause

seeni kooru
- a type of candy; literally, “sugar sticks”

Seeya
- Grandfather

Seth Pirith
- chanting of Buddhist prayers to soothe the troubled

Sinhalada demalada?
- Are you Sinhalese or Tamil?

siri-siri bag
- plastic bag named for the tissuey sound it makes

sudhu
- white

takarang
- aluminum sheets

Tha
- short version of
Thaaththa,
which means “father”

thali
- gold necklace worn by Tamil women to signify marriage

Thambiya
- Muslim (derogatory term, slang)

thuppai
- half-baked

Unname udakam vattam yatha ninnam pavattati

evameva ito dinnam petanam upakappati.

Yatha varivaha pura paripurenti sagaram

evameva ito dinnam petanam upakappati.

Even as water flows from the high ground to a lower ground,

what merit is given here reaches the departed.

Even as the waters of a full river reaches and fills the ocean,

what merit is offered here reaches the dead.

vadai
- savory finger food made of lentils and spices fried into cakes

Vayadamma Sankaara.
- All things are impermanent.

Vedda
- indigenous person

Vel
- festival celebrating the Kataragrama deities

-vem
- a common ending to Tamil names

veralen kiri kavadi soya kenek puthuta gena denava

thavath kenek paata paata pabalu kaden gena enava

e kavadiy e pabalui eka noolaka amunanava

evaayin havadi sadaa puthuge ine palandinava

One man brings seashells for him from the beach

Another one brings colorful beads from a shop

I string these together on the same string

and drape them around my baby’s waist.

verti
- Indian sarong

Vesak
- celebration of the birth, death, and attainment of nirvana of the Lord Buddha

vesi
- whore

watalappan
- sweet dessert made with kitul juggery and coconut milk (Muslim)

yalhulanga
- hot, dry winds usually associated with drought (Sinhala)

Acknowledgments

For the gift of time, I thank the Corporation of Yaddo, where this book was written, and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts, and Pendle Hill, where it was edited.

As ever, I owe Michael Collier a debt of gratitude for welcoming me to the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference; his grace remains my strongest affirmation.

I have the highest regard for my agent, Julie Barer, who never loses sight of the human being—and life—behind the writer; I have taken more time and worked harder because of her. I thank my editor, Fiona McCrae, who is practiced at the art of asking for more by seeming to ask for less; the darlings died happy thanks to her. I am grateful to the gray wolves who have given this book their hearts, particularly Katie Dublinski, Erin Kottke, Michael Taeckens, and Steve Woodward.

Chiro Nanayakkara and Shirani Seneviratne helped with the research for this book. I owe a special thank you to Ranjan Madugalle for sharing his stories of cricket with me. I am especially grateful to architect and friend Susanna Billson, for her clear renditions of Sal Mal Lane and Sri Lanka.

I thank my fellowship of mushroom-loving souls: Leslie Brack, Daniel Brewbaker, Elisabeth Condon, Paul Festa, Edward M. Gomez, Lisa Hamilton, Curtis Harnack, Jane Hirshfield, Jill Lear, Alan McMonagle, David Rakowski, Jonathan Santlofer, James Scott, and Joan Wickersham. I completed this novel, observed the first anniversary of the death of my mother, and danced back to life in their company at Yaddo. The music here is a gift from David, Sonna grew into his story thanks to Alan, and the poetry and compassion are Jane’s. This book belongs to them, too.

I am indebted to a host of writers. I mention a few I have counted on both to steady the boat and to sail away from the safe harbor: Mary Akers, Xhenet Aliu, Richard Bausch, Charlie Baxter, Noreen Cargill, Hache Carillo, Ted Conover, Eugene Cross, Lynn Freed, Ursula Hegi, Jenn de Leon, Matthew Nienow, Chang-rae Lee, Charles Rice-Gonzalez, Natalie Serber, Cheryl Strayed, Sara Taddeo, Cindy and Luis Urrea, Brandy Wilson, Elliott Woods, and Clarence Young.

I am infinitely grateful to Christy Beck, Susie Billson, Claire Conway, Pam Laughman, and Eve Weiss for filling in for me in the most important job of all. Likewise, my mother-and father-in-law, Barbara and Jerry Freeman, and aunts, Laurel and Sara Hartman, made it possible for me to leave home, knowing that my four blessings were in loving hands.

Without my brother Arjuna, the thoughtful, musical one, there would be no Suren, and this book would be missing both its rhythms and its quiet. My brother Malinda is my first reader, my fact-checker, my one-line critic, my hero, and, for this book, my muse. My nieces Mithsandi and Dayadi Seneviratne, and Indivara Miltaso, along with my daughters, will recognize some of their words and deeds in those of the children of Sal Mal Lane. There are some aspects of my parents, Indrani and Gamini Seneviratne, in these pages; it would take many books to do justice to the depths of their complexity and the generosity of their hearts, though I can assure them that, despite the many who adore them, the love of their children is greater still.

I am thankful each day for my beloved, Mark. If there is truth to Donne’s conceit of the compass, then it is true of you and me: your firmness makes my circle just, and makes me end where I began. I am full of gratitude for the ones I must learn to let go, each to a world of her own making: my daughters, Duránya, Hasadrī, and Kisārā. My words are my history, written for you. Your skies are your canvases—use all your colors!

I am grateful to the people who live down the many small roads of my beloved country; any one of those tributaries might have contained this story. May peace be yours.

RU FREEMAN is a Sri Lankan-American writer and activist. Her debut novel,
A Disobedient Girl,
was long-listed for the DSC South Asian Literary Prize and translated into seven languages. She has been a fellow of the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, Yaddo, and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. She blogs for
The Huffington Post
on literature and politics and is a contributing editorial board member of the
Asian American Literary Review.
She calls both Sri Lanka and America home and writes about the people and countries underneath her skin.

This book is made possible through a partnership with the College of Saint Benedict, and honors the legacy of S. Mariella Gable, a distinguished teacher at the College.

Previous titles in this series include:

Loverboy
by Victoria Redel

The House on Eccles Road
by Judith Kitchen

One Vacant Chair
by Joe Coomer