A Ride in the Countryside


I sit with an empty coconut shell, straw still in place, in my lap. Uncle, Loku, Podi, and I are snugly fit into the back seat of a three-wheeler. As we bump along we scan the roadside stands for papaya.

Riding through the countryside in a three-wheeler

Loku and I are still wet from our swim in a rural bathing hole. Sitting on Loku's lap is Podi, who is also wet, but not from swimming. She had been moving from rock to rock and called out to catch her dad's attention. I chuckle, remembering her crying out "Apaaaaaaaaaa!" as she suddenly slid into the water. Despite the air being cool on our wet clothing, and our hair being whipped into dreads by the wind and exhaust fumes, we are soothed by the constant, deep rumble of the motorbike and its occasional hiccuping backfire.

 

Loku and I in the bathing hole



After the bath



 

A truckload of workers passes us. A man bangs out a rhythm on the tailgate, his gold ring giving it a lively twang. The rest of the men sing and clap. We watch them careen down the road, their voices going in and out behind our three-wheeler's grumble. There's always a song in Sri Lanka. We pass three herds of water buffalo. Little children and teenage girls in white uniforms and braided pigtails return from school. 

The sun hangs low in the sky, hovering over the rice paddies like a good farmer to his ox after a long day's work. The dying sun still heats my skin while the wind rushing into the three-wheeler cools it immediately after. The only sounds inside the cab come from the engine, and even it seems to know that the cargo it carries must be handled with care.

 

 

 

 

 

"Are you tired?" Loku asks during a stop at a local market.

 

"I am," I answer. "But I'm a happy tired."

 

Water buffalo and the stream that leads to the bathing hole