School Days in Negombo

My formal schooling started at St. Mary’s Girls School, Negombo, on 12th January 1931, Admission No. 1174. Earlier, I had attended the kindergarten at the boy’s school, which was taught by my older sister Rosie. I was an incorrigible pupil and my sister could no longer tolerate me and had me transferred to the girls section under Rev. Sr. Imelda, a strict disciplinarian. I was the only boy in a group of about 30 girls.

My days at this convent linger in my mind for two incidents. One was when I had to stand with a girl named Gertie Silva under the red jambu tree in the playground in view of the whole school, our punishment for eating jambu flowers that had fallen under the tree. Everyone was shouting “Teddy Bear” at me. The other incident was when I acted in a school play as Tom the Piper’s son who stole a pig (a cotton specimen, actually) and had to run across the stage several times chased by a whole lot of girls and boys calling me to drop the pig, which I never did. All the students and their parents were shouting “Come on Teddy Bear.” Finally I was caught and received a thorough beating from the farmer.

I left the convent on the 28th February 1934 to join Maris Stella College. My sister Rosie, Sr. Imelda, and the Principal Sr. Annunciata would have shed a sigh of relief the day I left, but the girls in my class were sorry as much as I was to leave them. My school leaving report said “Conduct V. Good”, quite a miracle considering my behavior. It was probably written to please my sister Rosie.

At Maris Stella College
I entered the gates of Maris Stella College on the 1st March 1934, Admission No. 414. The principal of the school was Rev. Bro. Anthony. I was admitted to the 2nd Standard class of Mr. Elias Fernando. My older brother George left me in the class and went away, then I felt lonely and cried a lot. Fortunately my classmates came to my aid and I was feeling better.

We lived in Boralessa, a hamlet about 10 miles north of Negombo. I travelled to College with my sister Rosie in a tiny Austin 7 car. The driver Leander would wait until classes were over and then drive to the convent pick up Rosie. We would often spend some time at the Negombo beach before returning home. Rosie took a lot of pain to coach me in my studies and general upbringing. Being a strict disciplinarian, she would insist that I “mortify for God’s sake” (a popular phrase of hers) and take the various medicines like worm tablets, cod liver oil, and Scott’s Emulsion, which smelt like kerosene. In the evenings, she would sit beside me cane in hand and make me study the next day's lessons and do the homework until I felt sleepy and would go to bed. However, I was never a child prodigy and school life was a pathetic waste of time as I never took to studies seriously.

Rosie and I were for some time residing at “Daisy Dale” owned by Rosie’s friends on Sea Street and attending school. I mention this because of a terrifying incident that took place there. Those days, itinerant Chinese vendors would go from house to house selling cloth. One day, Stanley, a son of the house owner, had an argument with a Chinese vendor, who drew a long bladed knife and threatened to cut Stanley. He ran into the house and came out with a fierce dog that was about to attack the Chinaman. I was so scared that I ran into the bedroom and peeped through the window expecting the worst. Fortunately, Stanley’s sister Daisy intervened and pleaded with Stanley to let the man leave the house in peace. Daisy’s son Terry and his little brother who were playing in the garden were so scared that they ran into the house and hid under the family bed, and it took Daisy some time to get them out of their hiding place.

During my time at Maris Stella, Latin was a compulsory subject and I hated to go to Mr. “Bandi” Silva’s Latin class. Everyone called him by that nickname because he had a large potbelly and was a holy terror. During the Latin period I read books on aircraft instead. So, when Mr. Silva asked me a question I couldn’t answer, and my classmates would on purpose prompt a wrong answer which in turn annoyed Mr. Silva even more. He would then detain me after school to write 200 lines from the Latin unseen, and my friends would start playing marbles just outside the door to tease me. I was also poor in Mathematics and the good teacher Mr. Gomes would make me stand outside the class, which I gladly did so that I could watch the English soldiers of the Royal Artillery drill outside. (These were the days of World War II and a detachment of the Royal Artillery was stationed at Maris Stella.) My friends would then start munching my share of gram, wadai and plantains hidden in my desk. Elephant House “Ice Palams” (popsicles) in triangular paper packs cost only 5 cents each, but there were days we did not have that much pocket money left to buy any.

Another teacher we feared was Mr. Charles Silva (nicknamed “Giant Boxer”), a huge 6 footer Sinhala teacher who used the cane liberally. He wore a white cloth and coat and rode a 27-inch rim size bicycle. The Tamil teacher was Mr. Mirando and the boys who offered Tamil as a subject like Ben, Cyril, Austin and Nadaraja would play the fool in class. Rev. Br. Xavier, who was from Spain, taught Chemistry and his classes conducted in the science lab were another place for our fun. We had to cross the playground to get there and this gave us time to eat whatever eatables that were still left in our pockets. 

Ben whose hobby was radio receivers, would filch any useful item lying about in the lab like pieces of flexible wire, soldering lead, plugs, etc, helped by his friend Douglas. Mr. Manuel the lab keeper never detected the culprits. Ben would invite us home to see his handiwork and let us listen to the B.B.C. broadcasts of the war situation. His father and mother would sometimes peep into the room to see what the commotion was.

The subjects I loved were English Language and Poetry under Mr. Storer. When he read Wordsworth’s poems, like “A thing of beauty is a joy forever,” and Thomas Gray’s “An elegy written in a country church-yard,” it was music to my ears. I also liked Geography, Botany, Art, English and Singing. Our music teacher was Mr. Ferdinands, who would sit at the piano and we would sing “O Danny Boy” at the top of our voices just to annoy him and disturb the other classes. Sometimes the principal who had his office five blocks away would come and stand at the door to check what the racket was; we would then drop our voices and be innocent boys until he left. “Benja” as we called Ben affectionately, could not sing for toffee, and would play truant at the rear of the class. (By the way, Ben was the younger brother of actor and film director Premnath Moraes.) Cecil Lobo was a fair handsome boy and Mr. Storer would point at him and say “A thing of beauty is a joy forever.” This made Cecil blush shyly and the whole class would make various noises to annoy the teacher. I stood up one day and said I did not agree with Wordsworth’s version and said,

“A thing of beauty is not a joy forever,
Its loveliness may increase,
But it shall some day pass into nothingness.”

The whole class clapped and laughed which in turn annoyed Mr. Storer, who sent me out of the classroom. 

Another prank in class was to make paper rockets and paper balls and throw them at each other in between periods before the next teacher takes charge. Ben sent a rocket which flew out of the door and struck Bandi Silva who was just then entering the room. He called Ben and gave him a thundering slap, and all the gram he had been munching flew out of his mouth onto the teacher’s face and clothes. Ben was in a state of shock and ran out of the class crying. Mr. Silva wiped himself, took his seat, and inhaled a copious pinch of snuff, wiped his nose with his filthy brown handkerchief and started the Latin class. Another day, while Mr. Silva was writing on the black board, Nadaraja placed the chalk-filled duster where the brown hanky was. Mr. Silva through habit stretched his hand and took the duster and wiped his nose. The chalk covered his face like a powdered baby and almost choked him.

Boarding Life
College boarding life was also very rewarding. Bro. Lawrence and later Bro. Aloysius would ring the bell at 6 am sharp and we would rush to the long bathroom with our soap, tooth-brush and towel in hand, to the row of twenty taps, wash and rush to the seven toilets, after which we would go back to the dormitory, get dressed, arrange our beds properly and go to the study hall. All this had to be done within half an hour. By 6.30 we were in the chapel for holy mass which usually took half an hour, then back for breakfast and studies, and to school at 8.15 am. Weekends were always the most enjoyable, ending with a walk to the sea beach on Sunday evening. Whatever discipline and etiquette I learned at that time has stood in good stead even in my old age.

Those days, there was a drain carrying dirty brackish water running around the playground bordering the side road. It used to have little fish and crabs and worms, the filthiest drain possible but we small boarders would get into the water whenever the boarding prefect was not watching, catch these fish and keep them in bottles on our cupboards.

The annual college feast was eagerly looked forward to by the boarders owing to the extra special meals served on this day which included cakes for breakfast, chicken for lunch, and ice cream for dessert. After Holy Mass, the students would assemble opposite the chapel and sing the college anthem followed by “God Save the King” and the cadets would march past saluting the College flag with Bro. Anthony standing below. The celebrations included a cricket and football game between the old and present boys.

Once during the school holidays three class mates and I cycled all the way to St Anne’s Shrine at Talawila and back, a distance of over 100 miles. In that bygone era the church had to be reached passing a stretch of thick sea sand two miles wide which no motor vehicle could traverse. We had to hire a donkey drawn cart which towed our cycles held upright by us in the blistering heat of a mid day sun, which in turn heated the sand; it was a penance by itself. Years later, Sir John Kotalawela constructed a metal road to the shrine.

At Maris Stella, the Rev. Bros. I remember are Bro. Anthony, Bro. Pascal, Bro. Conrad, Bro. Valentine, Bro. Lawrence, Bro. Xavier, Bro. Clement, Bro. Aloysius, Bro. Jonas, Bro. Neizer, and my batch mate Bro. Gerard. Bros. Valentine and Jonas being sports prefects took great pains to convert the marshy land into the perfect play ground it is today. My first teacher was Mr. Elias Fernando in Grade Two. Thereafter Mr. Peiris, Mr. Silva, Mr. Storer, Mr. Gomas and Mr. Charles Silva. They were all genuine teachers and devoted their whole life on their profession. Our cadeting officers were Mr. Vincent, Captain Jayamanne and Mr. Nicholas, and the sergeant was Denzil Fernando, later M.P. for Negombo.

Goodbye to School
In 1944, my father Charles Stanley Braine, who had been ailing for some time, passed away. He had been the manager of Mawatte Estate near Dankotuwa, and was loved by his subordinate staff and labour force who called him “Raja”. They wept bitterly at his gravesite. Daddy’s death was a sad and severe blow to me as a schoolboy still in Form III (which was Senior Prep) and I decided not to go back to school and thereby ended my mediocre “academic career”. A number of my classmates too left school in order to seek employment as the country was still on a war footing and times were hard.

On the last day in school, we all went to the sea beach and had a bath, when someone (probably it was Benja who was a tomboy), suggested going into deeper water on a catamaran. Everyone jumped at the idea though only Basil could swim. I was seated on a tin of army biscuits to prevent seawater getting into it. Having gone about a 100 yards in deep water we decided to turn back when the boat almost capsized, and there was panic as the boat rocked from side to side when turning around. Basil shouted at us to keep calm and managed to guide us back, the tin of biscuits floated away. Closer to the shore where the waves break, I jumped into the water and was nearly carried away by the under current when Basil pushed a log for me to cling onto. I experienced the fear of death by drowning and avoided going for sea baths ever after. Mother and sister Bridget were unaware of this when I went home in the evening like a good boy; my corpse might have been taken home instead. What a sad calamity it would have been to mother.

This is a rare photo, circa. 1943, of the morning assembly at Maris Stella College. The cadets and the students can be seen in the background. These huge “mara” trees, which still stand, circle the playground. Captain Jayamanne, the cadeting officer, could be seeing marching towards the main building where the Principal Bro. Anthony stood to take the salute. Teddy Braine was a cadet at this time.