By Renton de Alwis
Written
in August 2010 a few days after his death, this story is about a few encounters
I had Deshamanya Vidyajothi Eng. Dr.
Phillp Ravatha ‘Ray’ Wijewardene, a very special human being. My first
interactions go back to the early 1980’s when we met frequently at meetings of the
Association for the Advancement of Science (SLAAS). Thereafter those ties were
renewed during my days at Sri Lanka Tourism. This article is reproduced in
memory of the work, achievements and the many lessons left for us by this doyen
of a man, who wanted to be known simply as Ray Wijewardena.
It was an early Saturday morning just a little over two years ago. We
had agreed to meet at a point in the Wennappuwa town to follow our hero to his
estate at Kakkapalliya. Having met the week before at the tourist board again,
like we had done on several occasions earlier to discuss how we could make another
dream project of this doyen turn into a reality, we were gracefully invited to join
him on his visit to the estate farm, during the weekend.
Precise instruction
That was for me a most memorable experience. I had heard and read that
he had been daring in his ways and I was somewhat surprised at the way he
conformed, to the convention of time. His instruction to us for that morning
was precise. Exact spot and exact time. We were to meet by the roadside close
to the turn to the govipola. We did not have to wait for him for he was already
there with his driver, waiting for us.
We got there sharp on time. Yet he had arrived before us as a gracious
host would. He was 84 years old (or
young) then and it was a lesson for the two young colleagues who accompanied me
from the tourist board. They were impressed and that made me happy. It was a
lesson for them for making their own futures bright.
Keeping the balance
Kakkaplliya is located beyond Wennappuwa on the North-western coastal
belt of Sri Lanka
He explained to me, when standing outside the tourist board’s porch, while
I saw him to his vehicle after one of our meetings; the logo represented the
four elements of Patavi (matter/solidity), Apo
(water/flowing), Thejo (fire/heat) and Vayo (air/movement). The elements and
its samadhi (concentration/equilibrium) he said formed the philosophy and
conceptual base for the engineering and agricultural innovation and other
sustainability options he adopted.
Standing by the vehicle door pointing to the sign on it, he said to me (then
only 24 years his junior at 60), “Young man, this is what we must aim for. We must
keep these elements in balance. That then, will mean we are being sustainable”.
He was referring to an earlier discussion we had on the need to educate the
young on adopting sustainable ways. Thank you, Comrade Ray Sir, for reminding
me of that lesson in life.
At the farm, we drove through on the gravel road in the surrounds of
lush green coconut palms, many other large trees and Gilicida plantations
direct to the ‘Attalaya’. Attalaya was his self-designed farm dwelling; a
modern version design of a tree-house in a dry-zone chena farm. It was totally self-sufficient in its energy
requirements. Solar panels were in place and the design ensured ample sunlight
during the day. A free flow of cool air was blowing across the house and the
bata-palali (bamboo screens) provided protection from rain-spray when necessary.
It was an innovation of a small open concept adobe, three stories high.
Our own ways
He had an English university professor friend already waiting for him, at
the Attalaya when we arrived. We all met on the top-most floor of the dwelling
for tea, biscuits and a chit-chat before taking on a guided tour of the
govipola. Here, the man was in his elements. He took on the wheel of the vehicle
and had us sit with him. We were taken to a world that was, his own.
He told us to look around and compare the variation in the greenness of
the foliage with the neighbouring estates. His was lush-green with no brown
patches on leaves indicating the absence of any plant disease. “This is the
result of eight years of endurance in not using any chemical fertilizer. The
whole place nourishes on organic fertiliser alone and we now have 40 percent
more yield, than all others in this area” he said.
We were then treated to an educational discourse on traditional methods
of Kandyan garden agriculture he had adopted.
He showed us the rows of Gilicida plants grown along the rows of coconut
palms. The gaps of pathways created between them were called the ‘Saru Alliya’
(path for fertilising and maintenance) and the ‘Gaman Alliya’(path for plucking
and picking) he said.
Rewarding success
“I had a time convincing these people,” pointing to his manager who had
stayed through it all at the govipola, “that not using chemical fertiliser will
yield results. It took us eight years more to learn that it works”. “Look”, he
said emphatically and in child-like excitement “see the ‘gaddavilla pus’
(earthworm churned soil), it is only now they are back in action. They were all
dead when we still used the chemicals”. Turning again to the manager he said
“this man wanted us to go back to using those fertilizers several times and
that was in frustration. I kept insisting and about a year ago, he admitted that
we had succeeded. He stuck with me, when many others before him left, and I am
grateful”. At the end of our tour we learnt that VRW had requested the manager
to buy air-tickets for him and his family for a leisure trip to Singapore
The other highlights of the tour included inspecting the gasifiers where
Gilicida branches were used as fuel-wood. This was to generate energy for
operating machines that prepared and rolled coconut husks into coir-rope. The Gilicida
leaves were used as the substitute for the urea fertiliser the coconut trees
needed. They were soaked in water and mixed with the soil along the ‘Saru
Alliya’.
Since his passing away last week, much has been written about this unique
individual by several others. That he was an alumnus of Cambridge and Harvard, Chancellor
of the University of Moratuwa, Chairman of several institutions, a creator and
crasher of light aircraft, a daring pilot, an Olympian and an Asian Games silver
medallist Yachtsman and the inventor of the Landmaster two-wheel hand-held tractor
and more.
Dreams into reality
I dare not attempt to repeat reminisce all of his achievements, for that
I imagine would not be what he would have wished of me. To me, the memory of
this man will remain as the caring and humble humanist, who gave and wanted so
much from life. He was a visionary dreamer and a realist all in one.
There is one other dream, I know of, he wished to see fulfilled and that
was his desire to set up an innovation activity centre for the children of our
land. We began talking about it, but it yet
to take off the ground. It is now left in our hands to explore how we could
pursue his wish further. That, I think will be fitting tribute for persons the
likes of Late Vidayajothi Rayvatha (Ray) Wijewardene; turning unfulfilled
dreams into reality and learning lessons from the wisdom left behind.
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