A case of mistaken identity
4 pm. The chiming doorbell wakes me from a deep sleep. I vaguely remember the hotel manager asking us yesterday if we could be in our room around this time for a surprise. I shake my husband awake. We had spent most of the day exploring the ruins of Sri Lanka’s ancient city of Polonnaruwa and had been completely wiped out by the energy-sapping heat.
Bleary-eyed and face slick with sleep-drool, I answer the door. I must look a fright.
The guest services manager at the door is unfazed. “Good afternoon, Miss Kate. Please, can you and Mr Robin come with me?”
I glance at my husband, who shrugs, and our rumpled forms obediently follow him along to the lobby.
Several smiling staff members are waiting for us. A saturated-pink bouquet is thrust into my hands. Both my husband and I have floral crowns placed on our heads. The doors open and we are hit with a wall of damp heat.
Outside, a photographer is snapping away like a paparazzo. We are asked to offer a blessing at the Buddhist shrine near the hotel entrance. A cacophony of Kandiyan traditional dancers and drummers suddenly appear and we are prompted to follow them down the street. People are lined up watching the action and cheering us along.
Robin and I are completely bemused, wondering if this is a case of mistaken identity.
We eventually circle back, following the somersaulting dancers and clamouring drummers around the exterior of the hotel to its front lawn. This is a beautiful lakefront area. An infinity pool, entirely shaded by a giant frangipani tree, merges with the lake.
Instructions are coming fast now. We light an oil lamp as a symbol of hope and success. We stand under a decorative bower and feed each other rice cake as a symbolic pledge to take care of each other for life. We are seated before a monk who binds our index fingers together and chants blessings over us. Finally, we are asked to stand inside a giant heart outlined on the lawn with bougainvillea. Here the photographer has us posing cheesily, while the hotel manager cracks open the champagne with a great flourish.
I briefly put down my bouquet which is quickly stolen by an opportunistic macaque. A mad scene ensues as staff members give chase, to no avail.
By now we are fizzing with excitement. No one has told us exactly what this is, but it seems safe to assume it’s a mock Sinhalese-Buddhist wedding. It was an extraordinary and surreal experience on what was a memorable tour of Sri Lanka (we were there during the Easter 2019 terrorist bombings, but that’s a whole other story).
This tiny hotel, EKHO The Lake House, is where Queen Elizabeth resided during her 1954 tour. In fact, we were staying in her suite, complete with golden bath-tub.
The next morning when our driver picked us up he grinned broadly and said, “I hear you got married yesterday!”