February 20, 2020
The philosophy of headwinds and why we're never content
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MINNERIYA - Have you ever noticed how unjust the world is when you have a headwind? Only a cyclist would understand.
The wind always seems against you on a bike because of a phenomenon called vectoring, which turns crosswinds into something more disagreeable. When you ride the other way, of course, you congratulate yourself on your youth and vitality, how well you're riding. Only grudgingly, when you see the trees bowing in the same direction, do you accept that, just a bit, you have the wind behind you.
And so it was as we bowled over rises too small to be hills but which hinted that the mountains were on their way.
There were no dirt roads today for this short hop to Minneriya. The road was quiet and often empty. It wound from side to side, having started in a long straight line across the top of a dam. Steph, who inclines towards these things, observed once more how civil engineering is valued here. The main roads are smooth outside cities, water and electricity are assured by reservoirs and dams, and a railway network covers the island in a way that larger and more prosperous nations can only admire. The trains, it's true, don't run fast but a train that runs is better than no train at all.
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There is no obvious poverty and no begging. On the two occasions that kids have asked for money, it's been more from mischief than malice. Tipping is not expected.
There are still problems, though. The army barracks have gone now but instead we have road blocks. A cynic would say it gives the army something to do in a land unthreatened by the world. It gets soldiers out the office and they put up low red and white fences to create a chicane, then show no interest in who weaves round them.
People say they're looking for those involved in an outrage in Colombo and elsewhere. But - and I offer this insight without charge - it strikes me as improbable, first, that soldiers would spot the culprits in the time it takes to pass them and, second, that anyone lying low is unlikely to travel on main highways.
There are enough soldiers on this small island that we asked if there was conscription. But there isn't. Maybe it's just a quiet life, as armies go. When we asked what the air force did, the answer was that it flew "in a support role", which could mean anything but certainly didn't mean bombing Delhi. And the navy looked more interested in smugglers than restarting D-Day.
Anyway, we slid round today's barriers to the waves of soldiers and, on one occasion, the military police. We passed countless yellow signs warning of elephants and we stopped beneath a tree to order a banana roti from a roadside stall.
If you're interested in how languages develop, and I concede that most people aren't, roti is Hindi for a wrap, sometimes of meat. In Sinhala it means a light pastry wrap for whatever you put in it, meat or not. In French, rôti means roasted, and that's the sense that passed into English as roasted.
But you may not be interested, of course. Most people aren't.
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4 years ago
4 years ago
Thanks for that. I have, as politicians put it, clarified my statement. In other words, I got it wrong and I've put it right. Thanks again.
happy days
léo
4 years ago