I had read that you must arrive a few hours ahead to secure a place from which to watch one of these processions. I figured it would begin around nightfall, sometime near 7:00 p.m. I strolled along the shore of the lake toward the temple, and arrived on the path of the parade at about 4:00. Crowds of spectators had already lined the narrow walk between the lake and a fence separating the walkway from the parade route. Any place where people could sit was covered with blankets, and already occupied. I was frequently notified that there were grandstands set up for foreigners, where one could sit to observe the event for the special low price of about $100. I figured I would just stand… and stand I did, for a total of about six hours!

A three foot concrete barrier prevented people walking the lake shore from falling into the water. I leaned up against this to relieve the stiffness from standing after a couple of hours. A security officer charged with patrolling the event came by and told me I was not allowed to lean against this wall, but that for only $100, I could have a seat in the foreigners’ grandstand. I demurred and went back to standing. A light rain began to fall. This did not deter the crowds at all. Vendors came along selling tiny shelled peanuts that were pretty hard to eat and fairly bitter. I was hungry, though, and paid eighty or a hundred rupees for a sack (about thirty cents). Other vendors came along selling different items, some of which I could not identify. Some sold toys or amusements for the multitude of tiring children who had joined their parents to observe the spectacle.

The policeman who had urged me away from the fence was trying to keep a narrow area behind the crowd seated on their blankets and the barrier clear for pedestrian traffic. The path was nevertheless quite narrow, and passers by as well as vendors often bumped and jostled me as I stood there for hours awaiting the parade I had come to Kandy particularly to see. The wait was long and uncomfortable. I had guessed incorrectly that I would find a place to get a meal while I waited. The peanuts wore off long before the procession arrived. I always enjoy people watching, though, and that was interesting. As always, I was somewhat of a spectacle to the vertically impaired South Asian spectators. Children stared, but responded joyfully when I interacted with them a bit, or shared a peanut or two. As darkness fell, the lights around the lake made a pretty sight. I bent over and stretched, moving my legs around to keep from stiffening up too badly.

It was a good experience, overall, though. The parade was indeed quite a spectacle, and when it was all said and done, I was glad I had not shelled out $100 just to sit for a few hours. A couple of sentinel fellows led the procession. For some reason that I never completely understood, everyone threw small coins out in front of them as the rest of the parade approached. The coins clanged, and rolled on their flat edges in the street. They were followed by groups of dancers. There were fire dancers, cultural dancers, men doing all sorts of different rhythmic motions as they marched. They came in groups, each coordinated by color and outfit. There were no female dancers until the third hour of the parade. Occasionally interspersed were Buddhist flag bearers. The parade included dozens of elephants. Sometimes the elephants came one at a time, and sometimes in groups of twos and rarely threes. They were all colorfully adorned in jeweled sheets crafted specially to serve as elephant clothing. Most had riders, and some of the elephants even danced. They would rock back and forth to the beat of the constant music, swinging their trunks or raising a leg. Observing carefully, I could see the elephant’s handler subtly directing the dance maneuvers.

(Continued)