Ancient Cities: Sigirya

 The ruins of Sigirya, claimed by locals to be the remains of an ancient palace but archeologically verified as a former Buddhist monastery, are almost assuredly the highest of all Sri Lanka’s ancient cities. The climb to the top involves over one thousand stairs.

At the ground level, there is a moat, as well as various supposed terraces, gardens and ponds, most of which amount to little more than shallow remnants of brick walls. Among outcroppings of trees at the mesa’s base, we began the laborious ascent. Brick stairs gave way to steps carved directly into the stone as we rose steadily (or in my case, sweating and taking frequent breaks) above the land.

A spiral stairwell, nearly rusted-through in places and shuddering in the strong winds, led us to Sigirya’s famous frescoes (read: a cave full of paintings of topless ladies). And another series of stone steps dumped us onto a high plateau on the left side of the mesa and an incredible view across the Lankan countryside.

Since it was still morning, we had spent the entire climb shaded by the gargantuan mesa. Before us, yet more stairs, framed by an enormous pair of stone lion paws, gave way to even more rickety iron stairs, all of which had to be climbed in the blazing sun before we reached the top.

If I haven’t said it before, let me state now, for the record, I hate climbing stairs. Give me a difficult hike and I’ll tough it out, but the repetitive nature of climbing endless steps is abysmal, daunting, and just flat-out, the worst. And to top it all off, there were signs everywhere warning that loud noise would awake swarms of wasps, and several families had screaming children.

I reached the top, sweaty, thirsty, and terrified of a wasp attack, but triumphant. The ruins themselves amounted to little more than tiered squares of foot-high brick walls, but the view was stunning and the breeze refreshing. 

Ancient Cities: Dambulla

Well-endowed with World Heritage Sites, Sri Lanka is home to a cluster of ancient cities, palace ruins, and incredible old Buddhist temples and monasteries, each with its own unique draw. First on our quest through the ancient cities, due to its proximity to Kandy: Dambulla.

The town of Dambulla is nothing more than a handful of shops, homestays, and “cool spots” (places with cold beverages and the possibility of food), as well as a slew of tuk-tuks, most of which have sprung up due to interest in the Cave Temples.

The Cave Temples are basically two separate temples, one new, one old. At the base of a hill, a flashy new Buddhist temple flaunts a lion-mouth entrance, a museum, and is topped with a giant, seated Buddha. The signs claim that at 30 meters tall it is the tallest Buddha statue in the world, but in reality it isn’t even close, although it is still impressively imposing.

Beyond this temple, a flight of stairs rises swiftly up the hillside. Vendors selling overpriced ice cream, water and souvenirs line the stairways, seeking refuge in what little shade is available.  They are joined by clusters of stray dogs, as well as hordes of chattering, curious families of monkeys.

Upon reaching the summit and removing our shoes, we made the scalding run across the sun-heated stones to reach the temples’ modern entranceways. While the Sri Lankans, after years of walking barefoot on scorching earth, strolled casually, I was forced to run from one patch of shade to another. (This turned out to be a common theme at the majority of Sri Lanka’s holy sites.)

Inside each of the cave temples, cool and damp without the midday sun, resided numerous Buddha statues and images, the size, number and positions tailored to each specific space. The care with which the caves had been converted into temples was evident in the details. Miniature dagobas filled empty spaces, and the soles of the reclining Buddha's feet were elaborately decorated. The ceilings undulated with geometric paintings, and many Buddhas had been built directly into the rock facades. 

Strikingly different from the temples we typically encounter in Thailand, Dambulla's Cave Temples were certainly worth the hillside stair climb. Although, as we would come to find out, in a country that values altitude among its holy cities, a mere ten to fifteen minutes worth of stairs is nothing.

Kandyan Karma

Kandy, nestled around a glistening, oblong lake, is a World Heritage City and one of Sri Lanka’s primary pilgrimage sites. Safely tucked away in a lakeside palace-temple is Lanka’s claim to Buddhist fame: a tooth from the Buddha. Supposedly snatched from the funeral pyre and then whisked away to Sri Lanka in the elaborate hairstyle of a princess, the Buddha tooth relic has migrated around the tiny island, most recently calling Kandy home.

The Tooth has caused much political strife among the Sri Lankans, as it is believed that whoever controls the Tooth, controls the land. Due to a terrorist attack in 1998, the Buddha Tooth is heavily guarded by military guards with machine guns, and everyone entering is subjected to a search and a metal detector. However, once you get past the road blocks and the unsmiling military guard (okay, they will smile, but only if you start it), the atmosphere is calm and reverent.

As it is free for locals, the Buddha Tooth Palace is chockfull of Lankans, with a handful of tourists for good measure (and good money). Shoes left behind, worshipers and spectators make their way up stairs, under elaborate archways, and through various museums and shrines. Slowly queuing up the wide staircases, the throngs of devout worshippers make offerings of flowers, rupees, and prayers. Seated and kneeling pilgrims fill the room of the relic, the murmurs and chanting echoing, hushed and personal.

A pilgrimage to the Buddha Tooth Temple is supposedly a Must-Do for the Sri Lankans, as well as a big boost of positive karma. Hopefully we soaked up some of that good karma as well. 

Rice & Curry

Lacking a restaurant culture, Sri Lanka was a challenge when it came to food. With Sri Lankan cuisine, Rice and Curry is the traditional main course. Taking two to four hours to prepare, the simple phrase ‘Rice and Curry’ does little to encompass the variety, both in terms of the complete mystery of what foods you will actually be served and what flavor combinations you may end up with.

A meal of Rice and Curry consists firstly of your choice of meat, dependent of course on what is available, and what the chef wants to cook that evening. Chicken, beef, fish, fried eggs, hardboiled eggs, mango, banana, jackfruit (meat, fruit; tomato, tomahto), you name it, they’ll curry it. Then, an assortment of small curried vegetable dishes, anywhere from two to eight, fill up all empty space on the table. Green beans, onion, tomato, okra, string beans, beets, peppers, potatoes and various indeterminate veggies abound. It’s a complete gamble, but usually also includes dhal (lentils, useful in the event of extreme spice).

And if this veritable feast from the curry gods sounds too good to be true, that’s because we haven’t yet touched on the Russian roulette of flavors involved.

As native New Mexicans living in Thailand, we thought we were acclimated to spicy foods. Sri Lanka takes spicy to new levels. Personally, I prefer to be able to taste my food and feel my tongue. From bland with horrendously spicy aftertaste to eye-wateringly spicy mango curry with a smoky flavor, the Sri Lankans certainly manage to pack in the chili. However, there is little flavor aside from the heat; rarely did we encounter sweet, salty or savory, and when we did they were overpowered. The right balance of spice and taste just never seemed to come to fruition. Ultimately, Rice and Curry turned out to be nothing but a buffet of squandered potential and burning taste buds on a heaping pile of steamed rice. 

A World Away

Following a year of Southeast Asian travel, Sri Lanka provided a drastic change and a trip full of the unexpected. The climate varied between much hotter and much colder than Thailand, with little in between. While we were expecting food similar to that of southern India, we received many uniquely Lankan culinary experiences. And, all of the coconuts were orange.

Everywhere we went, we were apparently an equally unexpected sight. Dhoti-clad, shirtless men and saree’d women sent sour-faced stares in our direction; however, even the slightest smile was answered with big toothy grins and friendly ‘hello’s.

From Negombo’s pack of stray Pomeranians and the hordes of crows crowding telephone wires and trees nationwide to beach-roaming cows and Galle’s freakishly large monitor lizard population, not even the animals were what we expected.

We wanted a change from the life to which we have become accustomed, a change from the similar cultures, foods, religions, and travel experiences of Southeast Asia. And that is most certainly what we got in Sri Lanka.