A Journey of Healing: Moving School Sri Lanka 2024

Nestled in the gentle embrace of Minuwangoda, amidst lush greenery and the tranquil hum of nature, a transformative odyssey began. The Dew Arana Oblate Institute of Higher Learning, a sanctuary of serenity, opened its arms to participants from all walks of life for Moving School Sri Lanka 2024. This was not just a program; it was a symphony of hope, orchestrated by the Asian Lay Leaders Forum (ALL Forum) under the theme, “Church as a Field Hospital to Heal the Wounded in Conflicts for Genuine Reconciliation and Peace in Sri Lanka and Asia.”

The air on November 23 was thick with promise, a quiet hum of anticipation resonating through the halls. Faces, both familiar and new, bore expressions of curiosity, nerves, and quiet determination. Felicia Dian, with a voice as warm as the morning sun, welcomed everyone with open arms, setting the stage for what would become an unforgettable journey. As the days unfolded, the participants stepped into a world they had never seen before, yet one that would soon feel deeply familiar.

They ventured into the heart of Sri Lanka, where stories whispered by the winds and etched into the lives of its people awaited them.

In the emerald embrace of Bathalegoda’s tea estates, the air was heavy with the aroma of earth and leaves, mingling with the quiet strength of the workers. These were men and women whose hands, weathered by years of toil, carried a beauty that spoke of resilience. Their voices, soft yet powerful, painted pictures of survival amidst adversity.

Elsewhere, voices of pain and pride emerged from the shadows. LGBTQ+ individuals, sex workers, and those scarred by the Easter Sunday attacks shared stories that carried both anguish and defiance, like fragile flowers growing through cracks in stone. Each word was a revelation, pulling back the veil on lives so often unseen.

In Raddoluwa, the silence of monuments built for the disappeared was deafening. Families gathered, their eyes filled with longing and memories, as they recounted tales of love and loss. Every word, every tear, hung in the air like poetry, weaving a tapestry of sorrow and hope.

Along the shimmering shores of Negombo, fisherfolk cast their nets into waters that promised sustenance but offered struggle. The salty breeze carried their laughter and laments, blending them into the rhythm of the waves. Refugees, too, stood resilient, their eyes burning with the desire for dignity, their voices a testament to their unyielding spirit.

Discussions in the days that followed pulled threads from the fabric of Sri Lanka’s painful history, weaving them into lessons of understanding. As a Tamil participant, I found myself listening with a heart laid bare. For years, I had wondered, “How do the Sinhalese see us?” The answer came not in words but in the tenderness of shared stories and mutual pain.

Their grief mirrored ours, the loss, the longing, and the dreams of a future free of division. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth long buried: we were not enemies but kindred spirits, bound by the same scars and the same hopes.

Workshops delved deeper into the injustices etched into the landscape of our nation. The struggles of Tamil estate workers, brought to Sri Lanka generations ago by colonial hands, revealed a history of resilience in the face of unrelenting hardship. The Church’s reflections on renewal and inclusivity offered a glimmer of hope, like the first light of dawn after a long, dark night.

One evening, the halls of Dew Arana transformed into a kaleidoscope of culture and celebration. Tamils sang Sinhala songs, their voices blending with laughter and applause. Sinhalese danced to Tamil rhythms, their feet moving with joy that transcended language. Korean and Indonesian participants joined in with unbridled enthusiasm, their energy as infectious as a summer breeze.

It was more than a cultural night; it was a love letter to humanity, a reminder that even in our diversity, we share the same song, the same dance, the same beating heart.

As the final day arrived, the air was heavy with the bittersweetness of parting. During a heartfelt Mass, the walls of Dew Arana echoed with prayers and gratitude, tears flowing freely as participants embraced one another. These were not goodbyes; they were promises. Promises to carry the lessons of compassion, unity, and hope into the world beyond.

Moving School Sri Lanka 2024 was not just a program it was a symphony of humanity, a tapestry woven with threads of pain, resilience, and love. It taught us that even the deepest wounds could heal when touched by understanding and that reconciliation is not a distant dream but a reality we can create together.

As I left Minuwangoda, the horizon seemed brighter, the air lighter. I carried with me not just memories but a piece of each story I had heard, and each life I had touched. The journey reminded me that peace begins with a single step, a single conversation, and a single connection.

As I look ahead, I see not just the path I walk but the paths we all walk, converging into one a path toward unity, toward peace, and toward a world where every heart beats in harmony.*