A centenarian in the family!

Aunty Alice Nicol, the fourth child of my grandparents, turned 100 on March 2. On that day, a rather low-key "birthday party" was held at the Anglican Church Hall in Springwood, Brisbane, not far from where aunty lived for many years.

With daughters Maureen, Virginia and Heather

We have 31 cousins. Ten, including the three daughters, turned up. Seven are resident in Australia, five in Brisbane or within driving distance. 

Standing: Lloyd, me, Gordon, Roy, Virginia, and Stan. Seated: Beaula, Heather, Delphine, & Maureen

Cousins with aunty

With Beaula

Greeting from the Queen. Aunty also received greetings from the Governor General of Australia, The Prime Minister, the Leader of the Opposition, the Governor of Queensland, the PM of Queensland, and other political figures.

Along with the Queen's greetings, aunty would have been happiest with the collage of Braine parents and siblings presented by second cousin Jenny (Delphine's daughter). Aunty seems to most enjoy recalling her childhood with her parents and siblings, so this was a thoughtful gift.

"He knows everything"!

Beaula and I with Aunty Alice

A few days before she reached 100, my sister Beaula, cousin Stanley, and I visited Aunty Alice at the retirement home in Brisbane where she lived. We went around 10 in the morning and stayed past her lunch hour. Aunty was in god spirits and her memory was clear.

I had done my homework. I recalled what Aunty Bee and my dad had told me about their childhood at Boralessa and at nearby Mawatte Estate, where grandpa lived. I also reread what Sinniah had told me about the family. In the previous blog post, I described Sinniah's first visit to me (he as visited twice more since then) and his recollections of grandpa, grandma, and the children.

So aunty and I talked, she recalling and I matching her recollections, for two hours. We talked about Boralessa, Mawatte Estate, and "Stanlodge", the house in Negombo that grandpa had bought for his children. Near the end of our conversation, aunty turned to cousin Stan, and referring to me, said "He knows everything"!

For all the time and effort I have spent on this blog - finding information, documents, photos, and uploading them - aunty's comment was reward enough.

Aunty married in 1943 and left to join her husband at Aspokuna farm, near Digana in the Kandy area. She would have been 27 years by that time. She worked as a nurse, and would have therefore left her parents' homes even before marriage. But her fondest memories seem to be of her childhood, spent at Boralessa and Mawatte. She barely referred to her long life after 1943, at Aspokuna, Melsiripura, and Brisbane. Perhaps the most enjoyable period of her life was spent with her parents and siblings, and that is what she remembers best.

Sinnaiah, who remembers our grandparents

Sinnaiah came to see me recently. He is 98, and still lives, with his youngest son, at Mawatte Estate, where he has spent his entire life.

Sinnaiah remembers our grandparents. About how they met, his father, who also worked on the estate, told him that grandpa had seen grandma (who was called “Engo”) at the coir factory and arranged for her to move into the bungalow, with her own room and a servant to take care of her! 

Sinnaiah says grandpa took a liking to him, allowed him to hang around the estate bungalow, and also took him to other properties. He remembers the Lewis Place house in Negombo, the 50-acre Greenwood property at Hettirippuwa, and “The Meet” at Boralessa. 

In order to collect cash to pay salaries, grandpa came by car or cart to Boralessa and took the rail car to Colombo, where the nearest bank was. Salaries were paid with coins, with sovereigns (equivalent to Rs. 12/ those days) and silver coins. Sinnaiah remembers coins piled on the office table on pay day. He says the large bungalow, with spacious verandah running around and hanging lamps in every room, was demolished and the smaller bungalow built more recently. The estate, which was 540 acres during grandpa’s time, is reduced to 300+ acres now.

Sinnaiah remembers the pond being dug on the property where I live now ("Pondside"), for grandpa’s children to swim and have fun. On the estate, grandpa provided lunch for the children of the laborers. He knew enough Tamil to communicate with the Tamil laborers, their children, and grandma.

Mawatte Estate owned two padda boats (small barges) that plied the Hamilton Canal, to transport copra to Colombo. On the return journey, they brought provisions (groceries) for the estate laborers. The “captain” of the padda boats was called Thandaley. [Basil Fonseka, son of the Thandaley, was my dad’s close friend. That’s how Basil became my godfather.]

Sinnaiah remembers the accident grandpa had while riding around the estate, on a Tantuwa, a fast, open cart. The cart was pulled by a tall, white bull, and the carter was named Antony. Grandpa, who already had a limp and used a walking stick, was badly injured by the accident. The laborers gathered around, wailing for “Rajah”, which means boss/king in Tamil.

Grandpa died in 1944, seventy years ago. Not many people who remember him are still alive. Aunty Alice, of course, is a witness to what I heard this morning.

Later, my dad had hired Sinnaiah tor contract work on one of the estates where dad worked.

Group photos of Grandpa -

Grandfather C. S. Braine. Perhaps his passport photo, which he has signed, dated 1910. He would have been 38.

In this and the photo below, we see grandpa's sisters, Muriel and Delphine. May have been taken when one of them got married.

Looks like the back portion of an estate bungalow in the background. Lush vegetation. Low country (coconut estate)? 

May have been at Mawatte Estate, or at Yakwila, or at Andigama. Who are the others? Is Herbert Brett here? 

Aunty Alice at 99

At Brisbane, on March 2

St. Stephen's Church, Negombo

The lovely St. Stephen's Anglican Church atop the Old Dutch fort in Negombo. When my grandfather C.S. Braine resided in Negombo towards his last stages, he is most likely to have attended this church. It's still in pristine condition.

Four Nurses and a Midwife - A Family History

In Sri Lanka, Nurses and midwives are in the news now, for being at each others' throats. But they made me recall my family’s history in these services.

My late father had six sisters.  Four of them – Lucy, Alice, Kate, and Amy - became nurses, two rising to become matrons. Amy retired as the head of Ragama hospital, which is now a teaching hospital. Lucy, too, retired as a matron. Alice, the lone survivor of the family at 98, lives in Brisbane. She last worked at Kandy hospital.

My mother Fernie took the SSC (Senior School Certificate) exam at a time when the newspaper printed the names of those who passed. Her name proudly appeared in the list. For reasons she never explained, she decided to become a midwife. One of her instructors was Lucy, before they became in-laws. My mother recalled that the harshest word  Lucy used on her trainees was "nariya” (fox). Gentle Aunt Lucy, whose last days were spent in sadness.

My mother worked as a field midwife, conducting pre-natal clinics, delivering hundreds of babies,  and following up with home visits. She never learned to ride a bicycle and must have trudged hundreds of miles during her rounds. She worked in remote area like Galgamuwa, Teldeniya, and Dankotuwa. I have memories of her, dressed in an official issue white cotton saree with a blue border, carrying a handbag and a black umbrella.

When she was in labour to deliver me, my mother was taken to the Negombo hospital, late at night. At the maternity ward, when she heard some midwives and attendants scolding (in foul language) the expectant mothers who were screaming in pain, my mother refused to stay there and insisted on being driven home. On the way back, when she couldn’t bear the pain any longer, they turned into the Sandalankawa hospital, where I was born in the wee hours of the morning.

I still pass Sandalankawa hospital on the way to Kandy. Perhaps I should visit my birthplace one of these days. I hope the nurses and midwives there are getting along.

PS. Towards the end of her career, my mother, ironically, worked in the maternity ward of Negombo hospital. I hope she was kind to expectant mothers. (Unlikely, because she had a temper!)

In Hong Kong, I met a Sri Lankan who was born at the maternity ward of the Negombo hospital, a couple of months after my mother refused to get admitted there. The midwives may have been kind to his mother because her husband was the DMO (District Medical Officer)! 

Aunty Kay