Sri Lanka

In my day, it was called Ceylon. (Dang whippersnappers keep changing the real names on me.)

Ceylon was the name of the island off the southeast coast of India. (Kind of like our Cuba.) Now it’s just the name of their tea and cinnamon.

By the way, that strange looking creature isn’t any old symbol of quality, it’s a Sri Lankan national symbol of quality. Paleontologists say that kind of lion actually existed there in dinosaur days. They found a couple of its teeth, rubbed their scientific imaginations together and so there’s your proof. (Don’t argue, it’s got a knife.) 

Quick History: From the dawn of time, Sri Lanka was ruled by tribal kings. It may have been the fabled land of Tarshish from which King Solomon imported “gold, silver, ivory, apes and peacocks.” Then, jump way ahead to the 1400’s and you’ll find friendly Portuguese traders doing business with friendly island tribes. The friendly island tribes got into a brawl and the friendly Portuguese squashed them all except for the Kingdom of Kandy. (Say kids, wouldn’t you like to be the King of Kandy?)

A hundred years later, the Dutch shoved the Portuguese off the island. The Dutch were still laughing at the Portuguese flopping around in the water in 1796 when the British snuck up and kicked the Dutch in after them. That’s when the British changed the hard-to-pronounce Portuguese name “Ceilão” to Ceylon and everything was fine for awhile. Then in 1948, Ceylon became independent and in 1972, changed its name to Sri Lanka or “Mister Island” to you. (“Sri” can also be translated “grand” or “majestic” but the literal translation is “mister”.)

As this cool overlap from Mapflight shows, Sri Lanka is about the same size and shape as West Virginia but with ten times as many people.

I’m sure you remember from high school what their annual flax production is so let’s skip that and go to something more interesting – to me. Ceylonese sapphires.

I have always liked jewels. Not set in anything, just the cut stone itself. Most of my life, I’ve seen pictures of deep, blue Ceylonese sapphires. You can find nice sapphire jewelry in America. But if you want real, pirate chest-quality jewels, go to Sri Lanka. So after landing in Colombo, the first place I headed for was a gem store.

Thanks to relaxed rich guys like Mark Zuckerberg, upscale merchants in large foreign cities can’t tell if you’re a browsing billionaire or a browsing bum. Walk in with the usual friendly American confidence and you’ll be treated well, at first anyway. So ask for the best stuff they have right away because in about five minutes, they’ll have your number. 

“Triple A sapphires? Certainly, sir!” 

You point at a fabulous, cornflower blue stone. “May I?”

“Oh, certainly sir!” he says unctuously and offers it to you on a white silk pad along with a cup of tea. 

“Is Sir looking for lady? Or for ownself?”

“Neither. Just looking.” 

After that exchange you are, as the hipsters say, busted. Nevertheless, you finally got to see with your own eyes and hold with your own hand one of the legendary “Jewels of Serendib”. 

You briefly toy with the idea of popping it in your mouth but think better of it. 

Instead, to commemorate the occasion, you decide to not wash that hand anymore. The very next week, the coronavirus hit. Figures.