The many kilometers of highway from Negombo to the south give little or no indication as to what would follow.
When we arrived at Balapitya, Ary, the slow-mannered guide who was leading us, asked us “We are getting to the river, do you want to go on safari there?”
So, out of nowhere, we didn't count on the possibility of a safari in those parts. Much less, with a river safari. We flooded Ary with questions and requests for explanations, to the point that the guide got bored.
We ask you to stop for lunch near the starting point. When we get there, the scenery turns out to be so tropical and lush that the verdict becomes simpler. We would go ahead with the river safari, or whatever came out of there.
Rickshaw crosses bridge over the mouth of the Madu River
A final concrete bridge with some traffic separates us from the unknown. Ahead, there is a mangrove swamp. Green.
The mangrove as far as the eye can see and the water colored by it. Four or five bright boats break the vegetation predominance.
The owner of one of them welcomes us. Once the price was agreed, we boarded.
Without further delay, we set sail.
Inside Madunganga: Discovering the Madu River and Lagoa
We follow a branch of the river that seems closed by a dense coconut grove.
Instead, a hidden meander reveals, first, the right direction, then, a mangrove tunnel that opens a passage to some side of there.
Boat with passengers crosses mangrove bridge at Lagoa Madu
The deeper we go, the more diverse the fauna we encounter becomes.
We see a few bats hanging from the top of a tree. Herons, kingfishers, monitor lizards and langurs.
We passed crocodiles and cormorants balanced on cane structures.
Langur monkey in Madu Lagoon, Maduganda
These structures are used as shrimp farms, an ancient activity that the Sinhalese in the region call Jakotu. Once upon a time, it was one of the most profitable that the Madu river and lake provided.
With the intensification of tourism in Sri Lanka and the popularity of the so-called Maduganga, the number of boats traveling along it increased significantly.
The agitation caused by the engines causes frequent damage to structures and affects the spawning of shrimp in the mangrove.
Boatman rests on a structure of a Fish SPA
Little by little, fishermen and fishpond owners became discouraged.
Many surrendered to the profit coming from visitors to the Madu river and lake, in different forms that the imagination of the native people multiplied.
The Local Fish Spa Industry
The boatman points out another floating structure, different from the ones we had seen until then. She invites us to disembark. A walkway takes us to a series of other nurseries.
When we looked at them, we noticed that, instead of shrimp, they contained hundreds of fish in different shades of red and orange.
The Sri Lankan in charge of the platform sees us wandering around without the destination that interests him. To suggest it, sit on the edge of one of the rectangles.
Put your feet in the water. Immediately, hundreds of doctor fish fight for his feet. At first, they nibble them in a frenzy.
Little by little, they organize themselves into a centripetal whirlwind.
Owner of a Fish SPA, with his feet inside the doctor fish pond
These are Mozambican tilapia and Nile tilapia, instead of the popular claw-ruffa.
In 2010, inspired by experiences from other places, a foreigner living in Sri Lanka remembered installing a pioneering fish SPA there. Over the years, several others appeared. To the point that the activity has already merited scientific and university studies and reports.
Fish breeders keep them in different sizes to provide more or less gentle exfoliation experiences. It's similar to what they do with prices.
The amount paid by Sri Lankans is half – or even less – than that paid by foreigners. Boatmen like ours receive corresponding commissions for the passengers they disembark there.
We had already used this same therapy four or five times, in other parts of the world, with its debut in Singapore. Those scarlet whirlwinds, we were seeing them for the first time.
We photographed one of them, amazed. After which we resume navigation.
The Madu River Lagoon and its Islands
Moments later, we were confronted with a new business initiative. A man approaches, paddling an elementary canoe.
Fisherman approaches visitors
He brings what looks like a juvenile civet.
With the consent of our commission boatman, he displays it in the palm of his hand.
It places it in the head and in other balances, with the purpose of enchanting us.
Fisherman with a civet on his head
We photographed their intimacy with the exploited mascot. And we proceed.
The lagoon formed by the Madu, the river that descends from the jungle that covers old Ceylon, is vast.
Fifteen islands dot it. We continued to tell intricacies without setting foot in any of them.
Until we find ourselves facing a long, aged iron bridge.
Children cross bridge
Women in bright saris cross it, followed by children carrying school bags. Large flying foxes, also known as fruit bats, fly above us.
The bridge connects the shore to the largest of the lagoon's inhabited islands, Madhuwa.
To the south of this, is the “cinnamon island” of Kurundu Duwa, entirely inhabited by the family of GH Premadasa, one of the region's wealthy cinnamon producers.
There they explain how to peel cinnamon in order to produce oil with the most diverse medicinal properties.
Kothduwa, the Holy Buddhist Island of Maduganga
The islands don't stop there. Near the northern end of the lake, we find Kothduwa. In religious and historical terms, it is the most important of Maduganga.
As soon as we disembark, a message on a panel asserts its uniqueness: “Special cosmic powers exist in this place. Stay calm and silent. The cosmic power will enter your body and mind and create spiritual development.”
At the entrance, a Buddhist monk charges a registered contribution.
Buddhist monk receives donation
We went inside the temple.
We stood in front of a statue of Buddha, yellowish, dressed in an expected orange robe, just a little lighter than that of the collector monk.
A mother and daughter place small white flowers on the low table that serves as an altar.
They praise the figure and the Buddha as any Sinhala Buddhist should praise.
This is what the historical and mythological past of those parts dictates, shared by another sacred Sinhalese temple, located in Cândia.
Girl praises Buddha.
The Chosen Hideout of the Buddha's Tooth
Buddhist narratives say that, around the 4th century AD, a certain King Guhasiva from the Indian region of Kalinga kept a tooth of Buddha.
For centuries, this tooth gave whoever possessed it the divine legitimacy to govern.
As such, he was envied by several other suitors who sought to obtain him, no matter what. Afraid of losing it and his sovereignty, Guhasiva gave the tooth to his daughter and husband, princess and prince, so that they could keep it safe.
The princess hid the tooth in her hair. Soon, the couple left for Ceylon.
Buddhist stupa on Kothduwa island
The Chronicle of the Tooth Relic reveals that they disembark in Balapitya, the same village we passed through before beginning the discovery of the Madu river and lake. From Balapitya, they went to Kothduwa.
They buried him in the sand of the island. Later, they handed him over to Sirimeghavanna, the then king of Ceylon, whom they considered a trustworthy guardian.
Let's fast forward to the 20th century. XVI. The island of Ceylon it became divided and fought over by the kingdoms of Kotte and Sitawaka. The Portuguese would enter the scene in 1603.
By that time, Prince Veediya Bandara was already the guardian of the tooth.
Pavilion in the middle of Madu Lagoon
Afraid of losing it to rival powers, he decided to return it, for a while longer, to the safety of Kothduwa.
In the complex conflict for control of Ceylon, the relic passed through several other places.
It is believed that rmoved to the city of Cândia.
Despite attacks that were repeated until as late as 1989 and 1998, it continues.
Madu and the Providential Rescue of Kothduwa
Kothduwa has gone through periods of forgetfulness and neglect. Devout Buddhists and scholars have preserved knowledge of its history.
In 1860, one of them, a businessman called Sansom Rajapkse, dictated the construction of the current temple, around a banyan tree, considered sacred, because, during his lifetime, Siddhartha Gautama (Buddha) sat on another , known as the Bodhi fig tree.
We set sail from the island. Two other Buddhist monks cross the Madhuwa causeway bridge. Monsoon clouds, heavy, darken the slightly brackish water of the lagoon.
The boatman knows what they're coming for. It points to the river of the same name that connects it to the Indian Ocean.
When we disembarked, the boat was already refueling the flooded Maduganga.
HOW TO GO
Book your Sri Lanka travel program with the operator TRAVEL QUADRANT Tel +256 33 11 10
Email: [email protected]
