Vestiges of British Colonialism: Harry Potter sans Quidditch

The British educational system, established in Sri Lanka during the 19th century, may be one of the most obvious vestiges of Sri Lanka's British colonial heritage.  This week I attended two events in Kandy (the Kandy Girls' High School Annual Inter-House Sports Meet and University of Peradeniya's General Convocation) which demonstrate the ongoing influence of British academic customs and conventions (paired with Kandyan flare).  

The Kandy Girls' High School Annual Inter-House Sports Meet was straight out of Harry Potter (minus the quidditch).  The school, which has about 4,500 students, is divided up into four houses (Sanson, Lawrence, Eaton, and Langdon) in order to compete annually for the school cup.  Marks are given to houses throughout the year for good disciplinary records, athletic victories, and the like, but the final competition and marks tally comes down to the annual Sports Meet.  This year's event (the 130th annual Sports Meet) began, presumably as it always has, with the four house captains circling the arena and lighting the ceremonial torch (think olympics) as "Chariots of Fire" blared over the sound system.  [Other epic songs blared over the sound system throughout the day included Queen's "We are the Champions" and Europe's "The Final Countdown"]  By 1 o'clock the events had begun.  Most events were related to track and field, but there were also band displays and dancing.  My favorite portion of the meet involved about 400 girls (100 from each house) and 20 minutes of dancing: the Drill Display (see video footage above).  

On Thursday, I donned my Kandyan saree and ventured off to Peradeniya to attend the 2008 General Convocation.  After wandering around campus for about fifteen lonely (deer-in-the-head-lights type) minutes, I finally found the entrance that I was supposed to use (I'd been given a faculty ticket from the director of the ISLE Program who couldn't attend due to a scheduling conflict).  It turned out that I didn't need to wait in any of the parents' lines which, in order to accommodate the thousands of attendees and create an orderly process, stretched out across the university grounds, winding around buildings and through fields.  For security purposes, no water, cameras, bags, umbrellas, or even cell phones were allowed into the gymnasium where the convocation was being held, so I entered with just my ticket.  Though I was seated by about 8:30, it took another hour for all of the 1,500 "graduands" to be seated and the Chancellor's procession to arrive.  Apart from a few ceremonial flourishes–like the Kandyan drummers leading the procession and the lighting of the traditional oil lamps–the convocation was not unlike your run of the mill U.S. university graduation.  So, in other words, attendees were subject to the usual boredom of listening to two hours worth of names being read.  Don't get me wrong, I am so glad to have seen the convocation, but there's not a Sri Lankan there who would tell you that it wasn't a little tedious, including the "graduands."  

I'm grateful to have attended both the sports meet and the convocation, as they provided insight into not only the Sri Lankan iteration of the British educational system, but also into student life in Sri Lanka and the educational experiences of my Sri Lankan family and friends.