Simple pleasures

It's not so long ago that a friend and I found ourselves happily flinging a frisbee back and forth along the water's edge on a sunny tropical beach. Whilst, to the casual onlooker, we may have appeared  fairly cack-handed, clumsy and graceless, in our heads at least, we were effortlessly and brilliantly balletic in our shared acrobatic genius. Sweaty and sated, having given the disc one final spin, we strolled lazily along a line of palm trees whilst passionately extolling the joys of the pastime. The humble frisbee, we agreed, is without question one of life's simple pleasures.

As I reflect on my time in Sri Lanka, it's the simple pleasures that have made it both extraordinarily special and rather unremarkable. Unremarkable, as I think life's simple pleasures are fundamentally the same everywhere, and special, because the treats on offer here all come with a unique Lankan twist. It's definitely these simple pleasures that I will miss most when I come home. And so, let me share just a few of them with you here.

The Vegetable Roti - A pleasingly pocket-sized tasty triangular treat, the vegetable roti has seen me through some tough times, believe me. These hot and handy snacks, carefully folded into neat little origami style parcels by the unsung roti masters of the island, carry untold delights. Bite into the doughy exterior, and you're instantly rewarded with the hot and soggy kick of the spicy potato innards. Get yourself into a sticky situation, and a couple of these weighty bad boys could do a whole lot of damage if lobbed, paper bag and all, in the direction of anyone making a nuisance of themselves (I haven't tried this, but I'm pretty sure it would work!). Yours for just 30 rupees from any roadside hotel, the Lankan equivalent of a mashed potato sandwich...they make me very very happy indeed. I honestly don't know how I will live without them.

The Papaya - Now, this had to go on the list, for the humble papaya too often gets a bad press. So simple, so giving, so pleasing; how can I not fight its corner? If you find the smell a little off-putting, as some people do...then, no matter; Squeeze a little lime over it; slice open a ripe passion fruit, or blend it with banana and fruit juice. You will not be disappointed. Get yourself into a sticky situation and, well, just imagine the damage you could do with a couple of small ones, or even better, a big ripe one! Yours for just 50 - 80 rupees (depending on size), the papaya should not be overlooked. I am already mourning the loss.

The People - There are 3 people of note who deserve mention in this section. They have brought me great joy and made me smile, whilst all sharing something in common...I've exchanged little more than a basic greeting with them and don't even know their real names. To me, they will always be Raccoon Man, Arm Stroking Guard Girl, and The Overjoyed Lady. 

• Raccoon man is a security guard at a nearby residential property. Despite his 12 hour shifts, 7 days (or nights) a week, he is always smiling. He greets me warmly whenever I pass, most commonly with an enthusiastic salute. I have no evidence that raccoons do such things, but there is something about the way he executes this greeting (along with his striking silver eyebrows) which brings to my mind a friendly yet courteous raccoon. 
• Arm Stroking Guard Girl works at the local supermarket. She often arrives at work as I am on my way to the bus stop and never fails to miss an opportunity to stroke my arm. Occasionally she tells me about her "no good" boyfriend and I sigh and offer my sympathies. 
• I pass The Overjoyed Lady perhaps once every 2 weeks as I sweat my way up the driveway to the hospital. She must be in her 70s at least, but always marches towards me with the energy of someone half her age. I don't know who she is or what she does at the hospital, but she always, without fail, looks utterly delighted to see me. Sometimes I am convinced she might spontaneously combust, there is so much of joy on her face. The smile is always accompanied with a long and drawn out high pitched "GOOOOOOD MORNIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!". I love her. 

If I got myself into a sticky situation, I'm pretty sure all three of them would come to my rescue. 

The Great Fruit Bat Escape - This item consists of 2 simple pleasures in one, for I experience this dusk spectacle most often whilst swimming at my pool. I've always intended to try out Saltdean Lido, an open air pool just a couple of miles down the road from me back home, but have never made it there. The great British weather means that the only time it's worth going, all the other idiots and their mothers are there too. Here, however, electric storms aside, it's always a good time for an open air swim. However, the very best time is just before dusk, as thousands of fruit bats fill the sky overhead, flapping their big old bat wings on the way to who knows where. If ever you are in a sticky situation, I'm not sure the bats would help you. But this simple pleasure is free, so you can hardly complain. Fruit bats, I already miss you.

And finally, last but not least...

The Squirrel Highway (a.k.a. my flat) - The squirrel highway is a place the local palm squirrels also like to call home. They love it. So much so, that there are some days I consider asking them to contribute towards the rent. And yet, they entertain me so often that perhaps I should be paying them. Leaping from window ledge to chair arm and then dashing along the bannister (occasionally pausing to sniff around by the kitchen) before making their acrobatic escape through the side door, they don't seem to be concerned about my being there. And so, we live together happily. Apart from when they start squeaking. If I have a spare roti to hand, I am sorely tempted to lob it at them. If I was in a sticky situation, that squirrel squeak (canned and sold as an personal alarm) would be enough to drive anyone away. Squirrels, you are annoying, but I will miss you.  

So....that's it.

As I take my leave from the island in just a few weeks time, I'm fairly sure I'll do so sweaty but sated, content in the knowledge that it's been one heck of a year, full to overflowing with simple pleasures.