A Nice Cup of Serendipity

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Serendipity. Defined as: the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for. Such as: getting nailed by a car and turning it into a career as a jet-setting travel writer. Or: meeting a Dane in China and being advised to visit a magical little country called Sri Lanka. Further: Having the opportunity to act on such advice and visit this little-known country a few months later. And: bumping into one of the handful of foreigners in a 100,000 strong religious festival who just happens to know of an insane gonzo ritual involving knives, holy men and self-mutilation.

Serendipi-tea? Ceylon, renowned the world over for the world’s best tea, and abovementioned Dane in China happens to be friends with someone who’s family owns possibly the best (and certainly the most ethical) tea company in the world.

Serendipity: the warmest smile in a war zone, a bolt of lightning in a shoebox, a romantic kiss from a blood-sucking leech. Ancient Greeks called a lush island in the Indian Ocean Taprobane. The Portuguese had it, the Dutch took it from them, until the British moved in and called it Ceylon. When ancient maritime Arab traders discovered this fertile teardrop to the south of India, they gave it a different name. They called it Serendib, and we still use their word, and their meaning, to this day.

Travel advisories are like overbearing mothers. They tell you where you can’t go, what you can’t do, which food to eat, which clothes to wear, and which kids you really should stay away from. The travel advisory for Sri Lanka screams, in red letters: “Avoid non-essential travel unless you have critical business or family reasons to do so.” Yes, a civil war has torn the country apart for decades, and bombs have a habit of exploding in the capital of Colombo. Yes, Sri Lankan presidents have the life expectancy of an opened milk carton. But lets be honest: it’s cool to sit with the bad kids at the back of the bus. It’s cool to eat too many chocolates. It’s cool to wear weird clothes, open the door for authorized personnel only, and take calculated risks for the inevitable and thrilling rewards they bring. Admittedly, it’s not cool to get maimed or killed, but the travel advisory notwithstanding, if you stay away from well known hot zones (which is easy enough to do) there’s more chance you’ll be attacked by an elephant than by a terrorist. Now Sri Lanka, an island of 20 million people, certainly has its hot zones, known to boil over. North, where Tamils rebels control an entire region. East, where they’re prone to attack military bases. The capital, where they’ll get the most column inches (and innocent bystander carnage) for an explosion. That’s why I head south to learn more about a religious pilgrimage, and into the central highlands, to learn more about the far more civilized life of tea. Along the way, I meet some of the friendliest, most welcoming people on the planet. Sri Lanka is tropical, hot, and just a little wild, the way I like my adventures.

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