By Pankaja Waidyasekara
Ah, the allure of the open road! The promise of shared oratory experiences, the whispered charm of the hilltop university, and maybe, just maybe, the chance to forge connections that go beyond mere friendship… Our recent inter-university meeting with the estimable members of Pera Gavel was, to put it mildly, an adventure worthy of chronicling.
Unlike last time, when we needed two buses, this time we all squished into a single, gloriously tacky bus. It was like a bad theme park attraction on wheels; all flashy lights and gaudy liveries with a dash of tasteless decorations on the side. For those of you reading this in the future, this was a time when the cops were actively on the lookout for overly decorated (for the lack of a nicer phrase) public transport, so we were all low key terrified they’d pull us over and fine us. Or something.
Our chariot, in all its glory, arrived at 5:30 AM, the scheduled departure time for our grand adventure to Kandy. “Scheduled” being the keyword here. Because, in true Gavel fashion, “5:30 sharp” actually meant 6:30. The first part of the trip was pretty chill. Most people were catching some Zs, a few were attempting conversation. Around 9 AM (fun fact: the meeting was supposed to start at 9) we stopped for breakfast. Did we linger a little too long? Maybe. Was the food worth it? The food, my friends, was Gucci (as the kids say these days).
Back on the bus, and now that everyone was awake, the singing started. But we didn’t have a fancy boombox or even a drum thingy, so it was mostly vocals and bad a cappella. Kinda tuneless, if I’m being honest with ya. But hey! It ain’t a group trip if the singing’s pitch-perfect, am I right? The important thing was that everyone had a jolly good time.
The drive up the mountain was painfully slow. And then, just to add insult to injury, we hit rush hour traffic ten miles from campus. So, honestly, it wasn’t entirely our fault we were late. Okay, maybe it mostly was, but the traffic definitely didn’t help!
Meanwhile, some of our highland compatriots from Gavel Mora had opted to travel directly to the University of Peradeniya. Unlucky for them, they were met with a wait. A long wait. Our hosts, the Pera Gavel club, were getting understandably antsy. So, the motley crew of Mora folks in Kandy had to stall. Which they did, with varying degrees of success. One of our more mischievous members even managed to sneak a video of them playing some weird kids’ game. “Oh, how different the customs are beyond yonder hill!” we mused.
Finally, around 1 PM, we rolled onto campus. Now, from the outside, Pera might not look like much, but let me tell you, it’s HUGE. “Massive” doesn’t even begin to cover it. It took the bus a full fifteen minutes – blame the speed bumps, not us this time – just to get from the entrance to the meeting location.
After that short but bumpy ride, and a few collective groans from aching backs, we finally stopped beneath the cool shade of a tree. (Look, I’m not a botanist, okay? It was a tree. A big one.) We all piled out, yawning, stretching, and blinking in the sunlight. And the air was, as Goldilocks would’ve said, not too hot, not too cold, just right.
Looking around, I had to do a double-take. Coming from Moratuwa, where our roads are basically glorified driveways, Pera’s sprawling campus was a shock to the system. Here, the roads – actual, proper two-lane roads, mind you – curved gracefully through the landscape like ribbons. You could actually fit two buses side by side here! With room to spare! The kind of roads that make you go “Ah, so THIS is what a university should look like” (while silently judging your own campus’s cramped layout).
The sheer amount of breathing room was almost offensive to our Mora-trained sensibilities. Buildings weren’t crammed together like sardines in a tin; instead, they stood dignified and apart, each surrounded by its own generous helping of that perfectly manicured grass.
The grass really was greener on this side of the hill.
Once we’d regained our bearings, our gracious hosts led us down an idyllic path toward this grand, old-school building. I don’t know about everyone else, but my jaw was on the floor. Pictures were snapped, “wow”s were uttered. The place was stunning. We filed into a quaint lecture hall that had been transformed into a meeting room, and let me tell you, it blew every Moratuwa meeting room out of the water. It was big, for one. And it somehow felt more better. Maybe it was the high ceiling. Maybe it was the old-fashioned heavy oak door. Or maybe it was the cushions on the chairs that were carved out of wood. Ok maybe not the last one but the weather was perfect. We didn’t even need fans, let alone AC! How cool is that? (Pun absolutely intended.)
Now, after the initial shock at just how green the grass was over yonder hill, we got another shock: the size of their club. Pera Gavel, bless their hearts, numbered a mere ten souls. We were sixty strong that day, and that wasn’t even everyone from our club! I couldn’t help but feel like we were a conquering horde descending upon their beautiful, but sparsely populated, kingdom. Maybe their soldiers were planning an ambush or something. Hill country folk are known for that sorta thing.
The meeting itself kicked off with some opening remarks from the Pera Gavel president, Pomodya. After which, the Gavelier of the Day, Yashwanth took over. The role players were a mix of Mora and Pera folks, a nice touch of collaboration. For the round-robin session, we were split into three groups, each with its own designated Round Robin Master. Our group had the ever-enthusiastic Sham as our Round Robin Master. If memory serves (and let’s be honest, after that bus ride, it might not), the topic was “An event you enjoyed at your respective university.” Cue a flurry of nostalgic campus anecdotes.
Following the round-robin, Harshi, a brave lass from Gavel Mora, delivered her CC2 speech, titled “The Demons I Summon”. It was a compelling piece that emphasized the importance of appreciating the people around us, illustrated through a whimsical account of supernatural entities—or perhaps just an imaginative and somewhat forgetful main character—summoned to help with household chores.
Then came the moment we’d all been waiting for: Table Topics. With the charismatic Nimesh as the Table Topics Master. Three topics were thrown out into the wild, and five Mora Gaveliers, along with one Pera Gavelier, stepped up to the stage. Impromptu speeches flew, each more impressive than the last. Thulasi’s speech, in particular, grabbed the attention of the Pera Gavel Table Topics evaluator Hansika. It was, without exaggeration, one of the most amazing (wink wink. Nudge nudge. If you know, you know) impromptu speeches I’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing.
The meeting wrapped up with heartfelt closing remarks from Udula, the Gavel Mora president, followed by the cute group pic. Smiles all around, cameras clicking away—it was the perfect end to a thoroughly enjoyable session.
Post-meeting, we were ushered down yet another charming little path towards our luncheon destination. More grand architecture. More impeccably pristine lawns. (Seriously, the (un)spoken rule was “DO NOT STEP ON THE GRASS.”) And, again, surprisingly few people.
We were handed packed lunches at… what I think was a girls’ hostel. A slightly odd choice of venue, but hey, when in Rome, right? The food was decent, the water ice-cold, and we were promised a campus tour after lunch. It was already pushing 5 PM, so we were warned it would be a short one.
Our self-appointed guide, a somewhat serious-looking but surprisingly chatty fellow named Kanishkar, took the reins. He led us on a scenic route, hitting all the highlights. Majestic buildings, pretty flowers, picturesque (and strictly off-limits) grass, and even a statue of Sir Ivor Jennings himself! The legend who designed and basically ran the place. Props to him, because Pera really did feel like 19th century Oxford. Minus the cobbled streets and the Bodleian Library, of course. It was like stepping into a time capsule, a place perfectly preserved in a fold of history. Humbling, to say the least.
Along the way, Kanishkar also gave us the lowdown on Pera’s “culture,” its rules and traditions. But that, my friends, is a story for another time. The official tour concluded at their open-air theatre, known as “Wala.” Imagine Lagaan, but older and bigger. Which was a good thing, because that’s where we took still another obligatory group photo. After the usual “Selfie time!” frenzy subsided, we were herded down a new path, this one slightly less scenic, towards a bridge with a rather ominous name: “Yaka Palama.” Which, loosely translated, means “The Devil’s Bridge.” Color me intrigued.
The Devil’s Bridge, as it turned out, was a bridge. Over a river. The “Yaka” part probably came from the fact that it was a railway bridge. You know, the kind your parents explicitly forbid you from walking on? So, naturally, we did exactly that. We balanced precariously, hopping from sleeper to sleeper like the responsible, mature adults we totally were. Did I mention it was a rather significant drop into the river below should one misstep? Oh, and get this: there was a train scheduled to arrive at 6 PM. It was currently 5:53 PM. Mhm.
Fortunately for us, Sri Lankan trains adhere to a flexible interpretation of the concept of “on time.” The train actually chugged along at 6:06 PM, a few minutes after everyone had made it to the other side. Still, incredibly risky. But hey, worth it for the photos, right? And the chance to see a train up close. Thrilling stuff.
And that, my friends, was the grand finale of the tour. With darkness creeping in, we bid our teary (not really) farewells and clambered back aboard our gaudy chariot.
The return journey, like most Gavel trips of late, was… eventful. Think campfire stories without the fire or the camp. Instead of spooky tales, we had romantic sagas so captivating that everyone crammed into the back of the bus to listen. How the rear axle survived, I’ll never know. I won’t go into details for the sake of everyone’s dignity (what happens in the bus, stays in the bus), but let’s just say the stories were both remarkably educational and entertaining.
Nearing 11 PM, we finally arrived back at our own, decidedly less impressive (and significantly smaller) university. It wasn’t much, but it felt like home.
All good things must come to an end. So, with memories and photos to last a lifetime (and maybe a few slightly embarrassing stories we’d rather forget), we mumbled our sleepy goodbyes and went our separate ways after a joyful, if slightly chaotic, day. Thus concluded the joint meeting between Pera Gavel and Gavel Mora.
Until next time, Pera Gavel.