Posted in: #feastSL
When a country is mentioned, I usually first think of its landscapes. Someone says Bolivia, and salt flats appear. For Iceland, it’s those mighty waterfalls. Italy is a neatly-laid vineyard. The words ‘Sri Lanka’ have always summoned thoughts of women plucking handfuls of tea, tiny figures within expansive green hills.
Our last few days in Kandy were a flurry of pineapples and processions. One evening, a local family – Kolitha, Deepthi, Chamodi, and Dilumi – hosted me for a cooking lesson and dinner. Their home sat next to a flooded rice paddie, and their two shy, beautiful daughters welcomed me by placing a green betel leaf in my palm, a symbol of friendship and respect.