George Braine

Looking beyond the burning aircraft at Haneda – By GEORGE BRAINE Yesterday, as I watched, live on TV, the aircraft burning on Haneda airport’s tarmac, the thought that drove me crazy was “Where are the passengers? Are they still inside the aircraft?” I live in Sapporo, the capital of Japan’s northernmost island, and each time I leave Japan, I first take the 90-minute flight from Sapporo to Haneda or Narita, one of the airports in Tokyo. In fact, I had just returned home on December 26 after a trip to Sri Lanka. The burning aircraft had arrived from Sapporo, my hometown. Later, we were told that all 367 passengers and 14 crew members had evacuated. Then, videos from inside the aircraft taken by passengers began to emerge. The aircraft was filled with smoke and some passengers were almost lying on the floor. A flight attendant, with a flashlight, was urging ...

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The death of Jude – By GEORGE BRAINE Jude passed away two years ago, at the height of the covid pandemic, from covid. He was mourned deeply by his small family, but, no memorial service was held for him, no obituary written, no monument constructed. In accordance with prevailing regulations, he was cremated, and not even his ashes could be recovered. Behind the passing of Jude lies a lifetime of neglect and exploitation – by family and fellow villagers, by an evangelical church, by doctors and nurses and hospital workers, even a crematorium attendant. This narrative memorializes an ordinary man who did not move mountains and whose death did not make headlines, but deserves to be remembered. Some background to begin with. My paternal grandmother lived at Boralessa, a village 43 km north of Colombo. Her older brother Charles was married thrice, and his eldest son from the third marriage ...

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Nightmarish Travels and Travails during Covid – By GEORGE BRAINE Since moving to Sapporo, Japan, in 2019, I had not been to Sri Lanka in two years. Not seen or spent time with my sister Beula; my cousin Marie and her husband who were my neighbors; their son and his family; a 95-year old aunt and her family; my friends Victor, Eileen, and a few other friends and relatives, some elderly, others ailing, some both.  I missed “Pondside”, the greenery around my small home there, the sound of the birds and the crickets, the mangoes and other fruits, delicious meals loaded with coconut curry prepared by Indra, my housekeeper. I missed sitting on my verandah and watching the world go by, the daily visits and con chats with distant relative Ignatius. I missed travels with Gamini, my part-time driver, chatting with him for hours as he drove. I missed the rain on the roof, the ...

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Ceylonese planters, too, died at Gallipoli – By GEORGE BRAINE My sister and I were at the Beach Cemetery in Gallipoli, where 285 British Commonwealth troops are buried. Our Turkish guide was listing the countries from where the fallen were from, and Ceylon was not mentioned. I was wondering around, peering closely at the gravestones, when I spotted three graves of riflemen from the Ceylon Planters Rifle Corps. I shouted out that Ceylonese were also buried there, and the guide came running to check. From now on, he assured me, Ceylon would be among the countries he listed. The three graves, of A. Forrest, G. Middlemiss, and H.A. Carlisle, are located next to each other. The first landing by the Corps at Anzac Cove was on April 25, 1915, so these three had succumbed within about ten days of the landing. Fascinated by its location between Europe and Asia, I ...

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Que Sera Sera – By GEORGE BRAINE My memories go back 60+ years, when, as a 7-year old, I lived with my parents and two siblings in a provincial town. My sister had just been born. My father was unemployed and we relied on my mother’s meager salary to see us through. To make ends meet, mother even stitched all our clothes. My school was more than a mile from home, and I trudged to school and back, crossing a railway line and walking along a busy road. Most students rode bicycles, and hundreds would be cycling along the road each morning. I passed the houses of three classmates on my way to school. One, who lived barely 500-yards from school, was driven there every day in a Hillman. I don’t remember ever being offered a ride. We lived in a small rented house. Tiny veranda, sitting room, two bedrooms, ...

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In a “bankrupt” country – By George Braine The hardest part were the power cuts, one in the afternoon (when the temperature felt like 38 centigrade, with added humidity), and again around 7 pm, for a total of three hours. I had a battery operated radio, and two rechargeable lights for the evening cut. Thankfully, three weeks into my stay, the cuts ended. I last visited Sri Lanka in late 2021, when travel restrictions were tough and changing frequently. Sri Lankan Airlines suddenly canceled the outbound flight, throwing my internal flights and hotel bookings in Japan to disarray. Then, upon return to Japan, I had to quarantine in a hotel for 14 days, under strict supervision. In comparison, the journey this year was a breeze, and not having to wear a face mask in Sri Lanka came as a relief. The endless petrol and cooking-gas queues seen worldwide on TV ...

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Warner Troyer, Rupavahini, and me – By GEORGE BRAINE This was early 1981, and the government was planning to start a state-run television service. Applicants were invited for an inaugural training course for producers, directors, researchers, and writers. I had applied, and was called for an interview. The interview was at the newly set up National Television Planning Center at Kirulapone. Not having any political or family “strings”, I did not expect to go beyond a cursory meeting and the eventual rejection. But, to my surprise, I was met by a ruggedly good-looking, ebullient Canadian named Warner Troyer. I can’t recall what we discussed, but he did point to a tall stack of papers, saying he had received thousands of applications. Apparently, the glamor of television and the opportunity to become a pioneer were irresistible (A newspaper later reported “over 5000 applicants”). Troyer and his wife Glenys Moss, television personalities, ...

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“Kai Tak Heart Attack” – By GEORGE BRAINE In the mid-1990s, when I began to play casual cricket in Hong Kong, some games were at Mission Road grounds, in Kowloon. Cricket was a low priority sport, so football was also played there, and the grass was somewhat patchy. Kowloon is a crowded part of Hong Kong, and we could see mid-rise buildings and a multi-storied public school nearby. Cricket at Mission Road was dramatic, but not due to the prowess on the field. The ground was right beneath the flight path to Kai Tak airport, only about two nautical miles away. Kai Tak was one of the busiest airports in the world, and jets landed every five minutes or so. And some of them flew over Mission Road. A thundering noise of a low flying aircraft would signal another approaching flight, and a great shadow would glide across the field ...

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A Disneyland for Sri Lanka – By GEORGE BRAINE This idea, apparently put forth by a somewhat controversial MP, has been criticized and even ridiculed. But, I believe a local Disneyland deserves serious consideration. Currently, Disneyland(s), which are theme parks, operate in five countries – the USA, France, Japan, Hong Kong, and China. A theme park is defined as “a large permanent area for public entertainment, with entertaining activities and big machines to ride on or play games on, restaurants, etc., all connected with a single subject”. I was living in Hong Kong when the idea of a local Disneyland was proposed to counteract the economic collapse in the late 90s, and saw it come to fruition.   Eventually, an agreement was reached with Disney, and the Hong Kong government invested $3.2 billion for 57% stake, and Disney invested $314 million for the balance 43%. Disney would manage the park. ...

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Sapporo Soup Curry – By GEORGE BRAINE Recently, The New York Times carried a feature article on what to eat while traveling in Asia. It recommended a specific dish from India, Thailand, Korea, Japan, and Singapore. Soup Curry was the dish from Japan, and Sapporo, in the northern island of Hokkaido, where I live, is the home of soup curry. To a Sri Lankan, “Japanese curry” sounds like such a mismatch. What would the consumers of sushi – raw fish – know about curry, in which ingredients are cooked to death? So, for a couple of years, I thumbed my nose at local curry. Most supermarkets display a mind boggling variety of packaged curries, but they did not appeal to me.   Curry is said to have arrived in Japan in the 19th century, when Anglo-Indian members of the Royal Navy brought curry powder with them. Since then, the Japanese ...

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