The family photo on my fridge now has a tinge of sadness
There are some very important things stuck to my fridge door. A council garbage collection schedule. A business card for a local plumber. A post-it note with the handwritten message "CLOSE THE FREAKIN FREEZER DOOR!”, the “FREAKIN” added in two weeks later when the original message didn’t seem to be having enough passive-aggressive impact.
But by far the most important thing stuck to my fridge door is a photograph. It’s got pride of place right in the middle and it’s held on with my fanciest fridge magnet - the fake chocolate made out of dark brown rubber with a set of teethmarks in the corner. My teethmarks. The magnet looks very realistic.
The photo was taken in 2012 and it’s of my entire family: my parents, my siblings, all our partners and our kids. We’re all sitting at a long table in a hotel restaurant in Colombo, Sri Lanka, on the first morning of a big family holiday; 12 people, 11 days, 10 food intolerances - we’re smiling at the camera but there’s the tiniest hint of nervousness in our eyes, it’s palpable. And we’ve just finished eating a traditional Sri Lankan breakfast of “string hoppers”, which are rice noodles topped with curry and coconut chutney - a delicious, nutritious meal, guaranteed to keep you in motion for the rest of the day, in every conceivable motiony way.
I love this photo. I look at it every time I go to my fridge - and I go to the fridge quite a lot, so I’m looking at the photo almost as much as I’m not looking at the photo. It makes me feel happy, bringing back memories of an amazing holiday in a beautiful country where we bonded as a family, shared lots of adventures and came home with golden-bronzed skin, partly from the sun, mostly from turmeric. And I’ve been thinking about that photo extra-hard this week after I saw a near-identical photo in the newspaper. A Sri Lankan family - grandparents, parents, kids - sitting at a long table in a hotel restaurant in Colombo, Sri Lanka, not far from the hotel where we stayed. They’re all enjoying breakfast and smiling at the camera, just like we were, but they’re much better-looking and there’s no curry globs all over their table and shirts and chins. The photo was taken by a woman named Nisanga Mayadunne and shortly after taking the photo, she posted it on Facebook, and shortly after posting it, she was dead, and so was her mother, when a suicide bomber detonated an explosive at the hotel breakfast buffet.
I’m not sure what I’m trying to say about these two photos, there’s not much that can be said, only that my fridge photo now seems a little sadder - it reminds me that beautiful happy moments can change in an instant for any of us. And it also makes my heart hurt for a country and its people.
Sri Lanka means a lot to me: it was my childhood home for three years when my father was sent there to teach geology at a local university, specialising in “Taking Advantage of University Funding to Travel to Interesting Countries and Teach Locals About Rocks They Probably Already Know About, B.S, M.Sc. Phd”.
The place is heaven on earth, it’s got magic about it, and even though it’s in trouble right now I plan to go back there soon and enjoy the kindness of the people, walk around Kandy Lake at sunset, eat string hoppers for breakfast and come home with a golden, glowing turmeric tan.
Danny Katz is a regular columnist.