2 weeks Ago
Once a year, I return to the clammy embrace of Sri Lanka. I plan it in such a way that I can attend 'pub quiz on Wednesday,' a Colombo institution that's been going strong for decades. As much as my annual participation may befuddle, it also holds the key to why the island keeps luring me back.
I attended my first quiz when it was still held at Barefoot Cafe, a complex of interlocked buildings that culminate into a sprawling courtyard. My friend Suchetha, Barefoot Prince of Colombo, famous for going shoeless most of his life, had taken me on a road trip to Polonnaruwa and Sigiriya the previous day. Driving down dusty roads at breakneck speed, avoiding cattle and pointing out the occasional elephant emerging from the jungle, he knew exactly which resthouses to stay at and laze about on the porch after a long day at the ruins.
Yet, as the week turned into Wednesday, he suddenly seemed to be hitting the gas a bit more forcefully, rushing me through Anuradhapura as if being chased, seemingly in a hurry to get back to Colombo in time for something. I remember the final miles as happening in a blurry blaze - us parking the car on Galle Road, and running down the lane that leads to the back entrance of Barefoot Cafe. We arrived panting and were greeted by his friends, already properly sauced, pens and papers ready.
The quizmaster said something to the sort of 'There you are!' And then the first round of questions appeared on a big screen.I'm not sure if we won that evening. Or on any other day, for that matter.
Colombo consists of rituals that are sort of the opposite of winning. Following a quiz at Barefoot, I usually head for lunch at Dutch Burgher Union (DBU) the next day. Its VOC Cafe is the best place to have lamprais, a quintessential Sri Lankan dish that, fortunately, has little to do with Dutch food.
Wrapped in banana leaves, lamprais consists of two curries, meats, and holds two obligatory frikadeller meatballs. It probably started as a convenient way for Dutch burgher housewives to pack leftover food from the previous evening for their husbands for lunch the next day. It does sound like a decidedly 'Dutch' thing to do - not waste food (or money).
Sri Lanka's Dutch period lasted from 1658, when they took over from the Portuguese, till 1796, when the island became British. Dutch burghers of Ceylon had long intermarried with other Sri Lankans, and the mestico (Portuguese for 'mixed person') community. Dutch linkages are often thin, or non-existent.
Although DBU once offered Dutch classes, they were soon disbanded, as there was limited interest. It is a vibe Michael Ondaatje captures particularly well in his 1982 book, Running in the Family, a semi-fictionalised account of his Dutch burgher heritage that depicts his family as slightly mad, decidedly alcoholic, but capable of the most magnificent feasts. 'Quiz' encapsulates that too, possibly reflecting life in Colombo more generally.
These days quizzes are no longer held at Barefoot, but in the courtyard of a pub called The Joint. Located behind the Dutch Hospital, this old colonial building has long stopped functioning as a hospital, and is now a shopping precinct where one of Asia's top restaurants, Ministry of Crab, is located. It's not where my friend would take me to have Jaffna crab.
He will assert that if you can't go to Jaffna yourself, the region's best crab is best to be had in small Tamil eateries tucked away in Colombo back alleys. You will have to remove the meat from its bones with your bare hands, the piping hot masala making the whole experience a messy, sweaty, but delicious one. The Barefoot Prince is now a quizmaster himself, his questions the right blend of pop culture trivia and the sort of stuff you've been coming to Sri Lanka for.
Last Wednesday, as I found myself wondering if we will 'win' this time, I knew I would be back once more..
