Story
Story 20
When the huge tsunami caused by the giant Sumatra earthquake struck Sri Lanka in 2004, I was there, and I had a feeling of helplessness.
The damage was beyond description, and I had no idea what I could do.
I was sitting home, and doing nothing for some days.
In my mind, there was one story stuck from my experience of the Great Hanshin earthquake in 1995.
I was one of volunteers who helped people living in temporary housing move to new places.
One hot summer day, I visited a family at a shelter to give some necessities of life.
Then one of the family members said to me if I felt satisfied by “helping” them.
She showed me her destroyed house, and said I would never be able to understand how miserable her family was.
I lost words, and left the family.
I didn’t leave volunteering after that, but the woman’s words had struck home so deeply.
Because of this memory, I was not sure if I should go and help people.
However, one thing came up with me for changing the situation, and that was Sri Pada.
It has been said that the holy mountain accepted any kind of religions, and even animals and insects climbed to worship.
I decided to go up and send my prayer to the victims from the summit.
I knew that it wouldn’t be physically any help for the suffering people, but I needed to do it in order to forget my bitter experience and step forward.
It was before the sunrise of the New Year’s Day when I arrived on the top and offered my silent prayer.
The view from the peak was still dark, and I saw the way of light continued from the bottom of the mountain to where I stood.
I felt slight hope in my heart which encouraged myself to do something.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Sri Pada)
Story 19
In the depth of the jungle, this Sri Lankan holy mountain stands alone.
The 2243 meter tall mountain holds some names as Sri Pada, Adam’s Peak, and the Butterfly Mountain.
On the summit, there is a footprint of a holy person (some say that it is Buddha’s, and other say it belongs to Adam’s).
Among different religions like Buddhism, Islam, Christianity, and Hinduism, this mountain has always been the subject of worship.
When the dry season comes to Sri Lanka, many people head for the top.
Interestingly, when the rainy season arrives and the peak is closed to people, animals and insects start climbing.
As it’s called as the Butterfly Mountain, during a specific period of the monsoon, one kind of butterflies go up in great numbers for their breeding.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Sri Pada)
Story 18
Rain, rain, when are you going to fall?
An elephant is going to take a bath in a pond soon.
A rabbit is going to make a nest soon.
A parrot is going to collect flowers soon.
A purple blanket is flying in the wind in a backyard.
A mother is opening a jackfruit in the kitchen.
And her son is having a nap on an old orange tiled-roof.
Rain, rain, when are you going to fall?
You will rinse away our teardrops that look like our beautiful island.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Colombo)
Story 17
Sometimes, I imagine that trees on the ground are roots, and there are actual trees under the ground.
The underground trees are sucking energy of the world from their tree-like roots, and grow towards the core of this planet.
Then, what are we?
Are we like ants making nests under the ground?
What is the sky then?
Is it like the sea of life where all the souls go back at the end of their physical activities?
When we die, our souls go back to the sea of life, and mix with all kinds of souls of plants, stones, and animals.
After becoming one big soul, little by little, a drop of life is formed, and is sucked by the tree-like roots of the planet.
The drop of life goes underground which is the real mother of life remaining unknown.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Colombo)
Story 16
“Mr. Ten, milk tea?”
Every morning when he noticed that I woke up, he asked me this question.
“Yes, Siri! Thank you!”
Scratching some mosquito bites from the night before in my room, I replied to him in the kitchen.
I was a resident teacher of a small private school in Colombo, and Siri was working at the school as a janitor and chef.
It was little difficult for me to adapt to life in Sri Lanka in the beginning.
Extremely hot and humid weather, nonstop mosquito attacks, unbearably spicy food…
Therefore, Siri’s milk-tea time was a precious relaxing moment for me.
He mixed milk tea with a lot of air, and created a very mild flavor.
While staying together, Siri made my days in Sri Lanka easy and joyful with his pleasant personality.
He was not used to use modern cooking equipment like a microwave.
After used our microwave, he usually kept me away from it, then unplugged the cord, and slowly opened it to see if the food was safe.
It was like a scared boy looking inside his closet in a dark room at night.
The school was run with a tight budget, so our daily meal provided by the school was only rice and pea curry basically.
Siri had 12-year chef experience at a restaurant before he came to the school.
He did his best to make our meal nicer with limited food stuffs, but we could not stop ourselves dreaming of more variety.
Once Siri got tired and said “even a poor family of Sri Lanka won’t eat this simple pea curry every day!”
By the way, Siri knew that the regular Sri Lankan curry was too spicy to me, so he used the least amount of spices for our pea curry.
One day he told me that the Sri Lankan curry became too spicy to him as well after kept eating the mild-flavored curry with me.
Then Christmas came.
We decided to celebrate it by buying some meat for our dinner.
We went to a supermarket, and I bought beer for Siri, too.
When he was working at a restaurant, Siri became sick and hospitalised because he drank too much with customers every night.
Though he still liked drinking, he quit drinking since he started working at the school to not trouble me.
Siri said no to my beer offer first, but later accepted it when I told him that it might be nice if he forgot his daily duty and just enjoyed the night.
As Christmas dinner, Siri cooked the meat with our regular pea curry.
I was already carried away at the first mouthful.
That was the most delicious meal I had ever had.
Siri smiled peacefully when I thanked him.
The unforgettable dinner at our Christmas night taught me what decided taste of the food was not how much we paid for it, but how much we appreciated it.
I feel that I can hear Siri’s friendly voice when I woke up in the hot morning sun even today.
“Mr. Ten, milk tea?”
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, Colombo)
Story 15
"You will never forget this view, brother."
My Mongolian little brother who was my former student at a university in Ulaanbaatar said to me.
In front of us, the sunset was dying the western sky in crimson gorgeously.
"In Mongolia, we say that people and camels watch the sunset and wait for good news."
He continued.
"Why so?"
I asked him keeping watching the sundown.
"It's the legend. Once upon a time, a camel owned a gorgeous antlers. A deer who did not have antlers like today back then asked the camel if the camel could lend his antlers to the deer for one night. The camel was generous and lended the deer his gorgeous antlers at sundown. The deer never showed up and returned the camel his antlers afterwards. Since then the camel kept waiting for the deer's return by facing west where the deer was gone at sunset."
The sun almost disappeared.
"And about people? Why do they think that good news would come from west?"
I looked at my brother's face in the red color of the sunset.
"It's the wisdom. Life of the Gobi is harsh. Every day something unexpected could happen and damage our life. Even if bad luck came to our day and ruined our life, when we see the sunset at the end of our day we could tell ourselves that we had completed our life as much as we could to the day. Seeing the sunset we know that we are brave, we are tough, and we are blessed."
The sun was gone, clouds and winds were flowing towards where the sun had sunk.
"We completed our life to this day, brother."
My Mongolian brother looked at me and smiled.
I always enjoyed his friendly smile.
"Yes, we did. And I will never forget this view, my brother."
I said and gazed at west once more.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, The Gobi)
Story 14
"Come on, join us!"
The bigger boy said.
Rain created streams in the desert.
Humans, camels, horses, all the animals gathered around the streams and enjoyed having a lot of water.
Tough, simple, and beautiful life existed there certainly.
I took off my clothing and jumped into the stream.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, The Gobi)
Story 13
The skylight is a sacred part of Mongolian Ger (a portable round tent).
People draw strings from outside to open and close it.
Ger keeps inside warm when it is freezing cold outside, and it keeps inside cool when it is burning hot outside.
Ger is the embodiment of the Nomadic wisdom.
But we are no match for power of nature usually.
When I was in the Gobi with my Mongolian family, a sandstorm occured at night.
Everyone was sleeping in Ger, the door was closed, but nothing could stop the storm.
Suddenly we heard the sound of Bang!
Then the sandstorm opened the door and came into our Ger furiously.
Before completely awake, we were already covered with sand.
Sand in the Gobi is super fine, they got in everywhere.
10 seconds was long enough for the storm to make us sandy.
After I closed the door with full power agains the storm, I went back to my bed, but my bed was like the beach.
We all managed to go back to sleep anyway, but that moment was brutal.
This is not a joke, I still found grains of sand in pockets of my trousers that I wore at that night after 5 years.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, The Gobi)
Story 12
Naadam, the biggest festival of the three national sports of Mongolia was just around the corner.
The whole nation was excited to see archers drawing their bows to their full extent, brawny men wrestling their opponents to the ground, and apple-cheeked children whipping their horses and going like a whirlwind.
At one place, I saw racehorses being tied.
A horse owner told me that he put his horses like this before their race in order to increase their desire to gallop.
Within a few days, the frustrated horses would unleash their suppressed impulse, and would prove that they were the king of the earth.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, The Gobi)
Story 11
One day, I saw an elder brother cutting his younger brother's hair.
I was standing there and taking photographs.
The younger brother asked me if it was interesting to me.
I said yes.
He asked me if I had never seen someone getting one's hair cut before.
I said I had, but I had never seen someone getting one's hair cut in this wide-open land.
I asked him if it was a good feeling to get his hair cut outside.
He said he would prefer seeing horses to seeing himself in a mirror, then he laughed.
(photo & story by Tengyo Kura, The Gobi)