"What did he say?
"He's inviting you to lunch. Only you, though, not us."
So began the first translation in my introduction to our imminent new neighbour. Bearing a startling resemblance to the Star Wars character, Yoda, the elderly gentleman in front of me was earnestly beckoning me to join him at his house. He seemed aware that I understand barely a few words of Sinhala but this did not faze him in the least from speaking to me at length in his native tongue. The truth was there was a lot to be done here at the new property and I really didn't have time to join him for lunch. However, simply saying no seemed a bit rude.
"What did he say now?"
Michael began to reply, then checked himself and appeared to prepare a different response from the one he had originally intended. "Now he wants something from you."
"Aaaaah! And what's he saying now?"
"He wants you to drink a bottle of arrack with him."
Arrack is the Sri Lankans native swill. I'd tried it before and knew it could be pretty good. Pretty good at 11 PM on a Friday, that is, not at 11 AM on a Tuesday. I laughingly declined but met only with protestations and further gesticulations. Whatever he was saying was drawing a laugh from Paul, Michael and Ravi so I figured another translation was in order.
"He says you have to live life. Before you know it you will be old."
I laughed. So did everyone else. Except my apparent new friend. He only grinned. A sort of lopsided, boyish grin that somehow both contrasted with his bent, elderly frame and accentuated it at the same time.
"Uncle Johnson." The speaker was Ravi. His tone suggested more explanation than introduction. The words would prove to be both. It was as formal an introduction as I would receive to the fellow. It was an explanation as well. Although I did not fully appreciate it at the time, I soon would. What Ravi was saying, in not so many words, was that this fellow was quite a character and that the exchange we had just shared was just one example of it.
Since that day, I have found out much more about Uncle Johnson. He is eighty-two years old. He owns two cows. Prior to our arrival, he was the (unofficial? self-appointed?) caretaker of the property we have bought. He makes very good tea. His last paying job was as a security guard. Given his diminutive stature, this last fact might seem funny at first. Until you see the old man's strength. He has the
proportionate power of an ant. We've seen him drag huge hardwood stumps from our property over to his own.
Uncle Johnson also has a rather loose definition of ownership, particularly when it applies to things we have that he would like. Johnson demonstrated this propensity for light-fingeredness while we were clearing the site. At one point, the faller dropped a tree that fell towards Johnson's property. As it hit the ground, Chris jokingly said to me, "Johnson's going to think that one is his." It turned out to be no joke. The faller cut the tree into three twenty foot lengths so we could carry the logs away. (For those of you more familiar with western-style logging, "carry" is a literal term in Sri Lankan logging terminology. It does not refer to a skidder or harvester or any other machine transporting the wood. It refers to a pair of people picking up the log at either end and carrying it away.) La Santha quickly picked up one end of one of the pieces. Johnson picked up the other. La Santha began to walk with the log on his shoulder towards our "landing" area. To his surprise, he met with resistance. The reason, of course, was that Johnson was trying to pack the log in the opposite direction. When La Santha saw what was happening at the other end of the log, he looked at me, laughed and began to engage in a good-natured tug-of-war with his elderly combatant at the other end of the log. That is to say, it was good-natured from La Santha's end. Uncle Johnson dug in and, bereft of amusement, continued to try to pull the log in his direction. Shanta did not find the whole thing as funny as his cohort, La Santha, did. He stepped in and began to berate the old man. What were only translated for me as "bad words" ensued. Eventually, Johnson realized he was over-matched and gave up the struggle. Needless to say, any interest he had in carrying the log disappeared once he knew he was not destined to be the beneficiary.
Johnson's interests in our wood products on that day did not end there. The sawmillers were set up at our site as well, furiously milling timber in their portable mill. Johnson began by carrying away scraps that no one else would have any use for. His own use for that product, by the way, was firewood. Judging by the amount he had already packed away that day, he must either be cooking over a kiln or, as Michael put it, "planning to live for another hundred years." However, as time wore on during the day and as he met no resistance, Johnson began to pack away better and better pieces. Luckily, the millers had a vested interest in putting a stop to this as we had not yet paid them for the timber they were cutting.
However, Johnson's finest moment that day was yet to come. The faller dropped a coconut tree. As it hit the ground, eight to ten king coconuts crashed down with it. The Sri Lankans rushed in to claim their booty, eighty-two year old Johnson in their midst. Johnson saw a loose coconut and
launched himself on top of it. He was immediately tackled by Shanta, who tried to strip the coconut from his adversary in perfect replication of a linebacker wrestling the ball from a running back. We watched with mixed feelings of disbelief, hilarity and horror. However, any concerns we might have had for Uncle Johnson's health proved unfounded. He emerged not only unscathed but
victoriously clutching the coconut. In a sense, it was a great example of the Sri Lankan spirit. Uncle Johnson is a survivor.
Every day, Uncle Johnson provides us with more stories and more humor. One thing we have not learned is where the name "Johnson" comes from. He bears no resemblance to a westerner and Johnson is anything but a Sri Lankan name.
Stay posted. We may yet find out the answer to this and other things about this curious and remarkable little man.
-Jesper