Exploring Batticaloa: A Journey Through Nature, Heritage, and Faith
The journey to Batticaloa through the mountains was nothing short of a spiritual experience, each turn revealing the hand of the Creator in nature's wonders. It felt as though we were traveling not merely across the landscape but deep into the heart of beauty itself, where every moment held the grace of divine creation. The sun’s gentle rays kissed the lush crowns of pine trees, transforming them into a spectacle of light that spoke of sacred wonder. As I gazed out the window, I found myself in a kind of moving meditation, my soul uplifted by the breathtaking views—nature whispering its hymns to me through each mountain, each valley. The majestic mountains stood as symbols of strength and resilience, while the valleys held a crystal-clear river, flowing gently as if carrying with it the peace of the heavens. Its waters mirrored the blue sky and the vibrant green of the earth, creating a perfect harmony that filled my heart with tranquility and awe. It was a journey that spoke not only to the eyes but also to the spirit, inviting a deeper connection with the beauty and stillness that surrounds us, if only we take a moment to truly see. God's presence and glory are revealed through the beauty of His creation: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”(Psalm 19:1)
After our early uphill journey, we stopped at a small coffee shop to savor the delightful breakfast. However, our first main destination was Dambana Wedi Gammanaya, an Aboriginal village of the Veddha people in the Badulla District of Sri Lanka. As soon as we reached the entrance, one of the Indigenous people warmly welcomed us and offered a guided tour of the village. Although the village head was not present, we had a chance to interact with some of the local people, who answered our questions and gave us insights into their culture and traditions. It was a fascinating experience that helped us understand more about Sri Lanka's indigenous heritage. Unfortunately, we couldn't visit the museum as it was under repair. However, we got to witness their famous Kiri Koraha dance and received a final blessing, where the villagers used a bunch of leaves, and people offered money as they received the blessing. One of the Indigenous villagers joined us on our bus and entertained us with beautiful songs in their tribal language. He said goodbye to us as we reached a main junction.
After saying goodbye to these people, a thought began to disturb my mind—a lingering unease about our approach toward them. We visit their communities as tourists, often with the best of intentions, but in doing so, we unintentionally transform them into a kind of spectacle. They become objects or showpieces in front of us, captured through the lenses of our mobile phones, framed as mere images or experiences to be collected and shared. It struck me how a living, breathing group of people could so easily be reduced to an exhibit for our entertainment, a fleeting moment of curiosity in our busy lives. As we film and photograph them, we often lose sight of their humanity and focus only on what makes them different. We see them through our own narrow lens, highlighting what seems "exotic" while ignoring the real depth of their lives—their feelings, challenges, and stories. In trying to capture what interests us, we risk taking away their dignity, treating them as objects rather than people with their own voices and experiences. It made me realize how important it is to shift from merely being tourists to being empathetic witnesses, seeking connection instead of collection, respecting the people we encounter not as subjects but as equals.
We continued our journey to the Manresa Retreat House in Batticaloa, where Pradeep, the minister of the house, warmly welcomed us to the Jesuit community. We celebrated Holy Mass in the beautiful chapel of the retreat house, and after enjoying a delicious meal, we had some time to take a short nap before heading to the Jesuit coconut estate.
Fr. Sahayam welcomed us warmly, offering us sweet tender coconut water, and then shared his story about the mission he has taken on. Managing an estate of 450 acres, filled with thousands of coconut trees, is no small task—especially when handling it alone. Despite the challenges, we were delighted to see how thoughtfully the land was being used, with careful cultivation and other creative ways to maximize its potential. It is indeed a mission that reflects a special calling.
According to the Universal Apostolic Preferences of the Jesuits, caring for our common home is a sacred call, a mission from the Creator to inspire and spread awareness about the importance of caring for the world we inhabit. This mission is more than just agriculture; it’s about leading by example, showing others how to nurture and preserve the earth. We have a duty to cherish the wonders of our planet, not as resources to be exploited for our greed, but as gifts that we must protect and pass on. Fr. Sahayam's work stands as a testament to this call, reminding us all of the profound responsibility we hold towards the earth and its future.
Visiting the beautiful and amazing beaches of Pasikuda and Kalkudah in the Batticaloa district was truly a feast for the eyes. The sandy shores, fringed with coconut trees, and the clear, shallow waters created a scene of natural beauty that felt almost untouched. The sight was breathtaking—a reminder of how magnificent God's creation is. However, as we admired this beauty, I couldn't help but reflect on our role in maintaining. The beaches, which offer such peace and joy, need our care to remain unspoiled. One of the greatest threats they face is pollution, especially from plastic waste. It's disheartening to think that human negligence could ruin such a beautiful part of God's creation.
Taking care of the beaches and their surroundings means respecting the interconnectedness of all creation. It’s about seeing the beach not just as a destination for fun and relaxation, but as a living part of the world we share—one that deserves our stewardship.
On the second day of our trip to Batticaloa, we began with Holy Mass at St. Ignatius Church in Kallady, Dutch Bar. The veteran priest, Fr. Joe Maria, spoke with us about the remarkable role of the Jesuits in the parish. He explained how the Jesuit fathers had strengthened the faith of the people over time through various activities. We also spoke with the vicar of Batticaloa Cathedral, who highlighted the Jesuits' contributions to building and shaping the diocese, especially their dedication to faith formation. We then visited a 151-year-old Jesuit school, which was handed over to the government in 1970, and the new Arrupe International School, started in the same campus in 2020. Fr. Roshan and his energetic team of young Sri Lankan Jesuits are passionately working to build this new school, despite many challenges. This day gave us a clear picture of the incredible contributions the Jesuits have made to the Batticaloa Diocese from its beginnings to the present day.
We began our return journey at 3:00 PM, departing from Manresa Retreat House. As we said our goodbyes to this historic place—the beautiful white building standing tall with its quiet grace—I could almost hear the distant echoes of the past. In my mind, the clattering and thrumming of the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF) helicopters reverberated, as if once again landing atop our retreat house. It was a haunting memory, one that brought back the time when this sacred space had become an army base in 1987.
We began our return journey at 3:00 PM, departing from Manresa Retreat House. As we said our goodbyes to this historic place—the beautiful white building standing tall with its quiet grace—I could almost hear the distant echoes of the past. In my mind, the clattering and thrumming of the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF) helicopters reverberated, as if once again landing atop our retreat house. It was a haunting memory, one that brought back the time when this sacred space had become an army base in 1987.
As we travelled back to Kandy through Batticaloa City, the weight of those memories lingered heavily in my thoughts. it was also a journey through history, a reminder of the pain and resilience tied to this place. However, my painful thoughts about the past gradually eased as we continued our journey back, surrounded by the captivating beauty of the mountains. The breathtaking scenery felt like a gift—nature's way of soothing the soul, a grace that unfolded through the splendor of God's creation.
Fr. ROY ALEX SJ(KER)
Thank you, Roy, for this beautiful narrative of your trip. It makes interesting reading, and the photos are nice too. Be well.
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