Christmas in the Good Old Days In Ceylon – By Noel Crusz
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The memories of how Christmas was celebrated in the good old days in Sri Lanka come back to mind.
Before the Christmas season the house was painted, the walls white-washed, and with a low black tar edging
all-round the rooms.
The chairs were re-cushioned. The traveling tailor came to the home, measured the rooms, and made the curtains on our old Singer sewing machine.
Red Mansion polish was applied on the red cement floor, which got a shine by rubbing with a heavy handled brush and then mopping with a soft cloth. It was hard work.
Cake making was a ritual, where the mother laid the rules and the children offered to help. We ate a good many of the cashew nuts and raisins when no one was looking.
Two weeks before Christmas the children were taken in a hired car to Pettah’s Main Street. The well-known shoe store was T.G.M. Perera’s and we were fitted with the best shoes. Even Jamaliya’s Shoe Store in Wellawatta took in orders for boots, the teenage fashion of the thirties. The Japanese toy shop, Ono & Co. had a wonderful array of toys from Japan.
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The Main Street tailor measured us, as we provided Chinese silk for our shirts. The silk of course was bought in early November from the Chinese peddlers.
Main Street in Pettah in the early thirties was very narrow. It had to cope with the tram lines and bullock carts.
Our Christmas shopping included a visit to X.P. Paivas for lunch and ice cream. Round the corner was The Rupee Store, where for one rupee you could buy many things.
Millers, Cargills, Simes, and Whiteways dominated the Fort area shopping. We went to Hunters and Siedles and The Roche Brothers shops for many items.
One cannot forget the shopping in the golden mile of Colpetty, Bambalapitiya, and Wellawatta. Well-known shops in Wellawatta: M.P. Gomez, A.W. Jansz, J.B. De Pinto, Noorani’s, Jamaliya’s Boot Works, and many other famous boutiques.
As a boy, I went with my father to A.W. Jansz’s store near High Street. We bought Dutch Edam Cheese, as an accompaniment for the Christmas breudher.
The shopping spree in Colombo included a visit to Pilawoos for a treat of biriyani. Elephant House played a significant part in booking Christmas cakes.
One last item that was on the shopping list: Fireworks from the Fireworks Palace opposite the Fort Railway Station.
Christmas was on. The cake was made and sent to the bakery. The servants were making string hoppers and pittu, cutting up A.W. Jansz’ ham, and making cutlets and Seeni sambol.
Churches saw long lines at the Confessional. I remember well the Allied troops celebrating Christmas in Ceylon. In the Seminary in St. Francis Zavier in Bambalapitiya, the African troops came for Midnight Mass. The Italian prisoners of war brought tears to our eyes when they sang the Adeste Fidelis.
Famous artist, Arthur Van Langenberg helped to stage a massive Christmas pageant on Christmas Eve at St. Lucia’s Cathedral Square in Kotahena. There were hundreds in the cast.
The beautiful teenager Camille Cramer played Mary, as she was seated astride a real donkey, led by a young doctor, who played Joseph. As Gerry Paul hit the Police drums, the donkey took off, with Joseph clinging to its tail, and the audience, including Mary, in ripples of laughter.
As midnight came, there was a never-ending sound of fireworks and skyrockets, that would surely have awoken the Christ Child. Carol parties came to the doorstep. At Kawdana, children in costume came around singing Sinhala carols.
Returning home from mid-night church service families sat down for a feast of string hoppers, ham, breudher, cheese, mulligatawny, and Christmas cake. There were presents near the family Christmas tree. The church Annavi rala, the postman, the dhobi, the baker, and the fishmonger were the regular Christmas early birds. They all got cash, plus a tot of arrack or gin. Later in the evening when it became dark once more, we lit our fireworks. Saw the servants lighting the big Roman candles and skyrockets. The radio blasted yuletide melodies.
Nowhere in the world did I ever experience Christmas, as the Ceylonese prepare and enjoy it. Can still hear the hustle and bustle in Pettah, the cries of the street vendors and the pavement hawkers. The wailing of the mamma-pappa balloon, the rattle of the toy carts, and the delicacies from the gram sellers are unforgettable.
Here I am on the ocean liner THE PACIFIC SKY in the Coral Sea on a pre-Christmas voyage from Sydney to New Caledonia, I was dreaming not of a ‘White Christmas’, but of the Christmases I spent in Sri Lanka.
NOEL CRUSZ
