Sri Pada – or Adam’s Peak as it was called by their British conquerors’– is the holiest mountain of the country. That’s where our personal story began, just as everything in and around Ratnapura, as all the rivers in the city’s vicinity descend from this mountain, bringing plenty of gems with their waters which Mother Earth had been baring for millions of years deep inside Sri Pada.
The pilgrimage season starts on the 27th of December during Christmas, and I get the 11th place in the eight–person minibus packed with villagers. Forgetting the choking heat, I stare in awe at how people have lined up along both sides of the road with huge sacrificial trays in their hands. They are giving out fruit, rice or refreshing drinks to the pilgrims so they too can offer their share through the hands of those aboard the bus.
It takes us from 7 am to 7 pm to make the 30 km drive to the foot of the mountain. The lengthy trip is time well spent as we gaze at the wonders among the highest mountain peaks, providing one spectacular view after another. It’s getting dark and as we approach the base, I think my awe can’t grow any stronger when I get a look at Sri Pada fully lit from the foot to the summit! The government had steps built up to the 2,340-meter-high peak and brought electricity to them for the pilgrims. All around the stairs there is thick jungle, full of monkeys, poisonous snakes and wild elephants. Even the bravest traveler refuses to try to get up there.
We set off at about midnight, as tradition prescribes, so we can reach the peak at sunrise. Sunil and Ayanthi have brought their two small sons with them; Nadee, 3, and Lakshitha, 7. For a while both are fighting heroically, but soon they exhaust themselves and fall asleep, draping on their mother and father. No one finds it strange or rare as the pilgrimage full of such merit, good points, so the weak and old members are carried up by their family in order to receive the blessings that follow.
The last, steepest steps are bathing in the first rays of the rising sun. The goal is near, and the time left is short. We feel new power in our legs yet, we are out of breath. However, with the expectations of those waiting in the gate of miracles we get to the top of Sri Pada, home to Saman Devio, the protecting god of the province.
The scene is divine, indeed. All around, and even beneath us, are other mountain peaks dressed in a rose-colored shine, the brightly lit lakes among them are like pearls. The sight automatically rises everyone high above themselves…we are on the “top of the world”.
For Buddhists, that is from where the Buddha stepped up to eternity leaving his footprint behind. For Catholics, it is where Adam landed after he had been expelled from Eden, meditating as he stood on only one leg as a penance for his sin. It is believed that his sacrifice moved the Almighty so much that the mountain was interspersed with gems. There is even a legend that says butterflies come to the mountain to die to become part of its glory.
He who left the enormous, and sole footprint there, is debatable. However, no one can see it as the government had filled it with concrete in an effort “to protect” it. Around it there is a little chapel–like building, so even if the crowd had allowed it, we couldn’t have seen anything. However, all of us feel as a particle of the body of the “devotee” that we have formed today. The presence of sacredness is almost tangible.
We became friends with Sunil and Ayanthi by the time we get back down at the feet. We don’t share a common language, however we can understand each other, and also while listening to the local news. That morning a Tsunami hit the coasts, causing the death of three hundred thousand people. The whole country is in mourning.
We say a warmhearted good buy, and Sunil invites me (three times, just to be sure), to come again. The next time I come he insists “no hotel, my home.”
That next time came two years later when I spend a whole year with the family in Ratnapura, one of the most ancient and famous gem epicenters in the world.