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The first Sri Lankan immigration official recalls the days when passports cost just ten rupees
Passport to the past
By Ruwanthi Herat Gunaratne
A cottage. That is what he insisted it was with creepers peeking out of the fence surrounding it. Armchairs just waiting for someone to settle into looked out at the garden, the focal point of which was an enormous coconut tree.

Michael Pieris is not heavily built. He fits beautifully into the world that he'd just invited us to share.

Eighty-two years into his life and he is still learning. "Linguistics was always my forte, I know seven languages and am in the process of studying another two - Spanish and Portuguese," says Mr Pieris, the first ever immigration officer our country produced.

Educated at St. Joseph's College, Colombo he was a teacher by profession. From the very beginning his true love was languages. There is enough evidence to prove that his talent did not go unnoticed in prizes in English, French, Latin and Greek and the first place for French in Ceylon at the London Matriculation Examination which won him a medal from the French government.

This decided his fate. On completing the London Matriculation and the London Intermediate Arts Examinations where he offered English, French, Latin and Greek as subjects, he began teaching at St. John Bosco's School, Hatton. This was followed by a two-year stint as the resident master to a British planter's son.

Teaching allowed him to travel. The following year saw him teaching languages at the Highlands European School in Coonoor, Nilgiris, India. I was the only Asian on the staff, the British male teachers being enlisted for service in World War II, he smiles.

On returning to Ceylon in 1944, St. Thomas Villiers of Adisham, Haputale introduced him to W. T. Keble, the headmaster of St. Thomas' Prep School, Bandarawela. He soon became a familiar sight on the school grounds, performing the functions of teacher, house master, games master, PT instructor, office assistant and welfare officer. Tough job? he smiles.

Whilst teaching English and Latin at St. Joseph's College, he came across an advertisement in the papers calling for applications for immigration officers.

"That was in 1949 when we had been granted our independence and the time had come to establish a Department of Immigration and Emigration. All the languages I had dutifully studied would be perfect for the job. Plus it would ensure a higher salary and a chance for promotion. I started work as the First Authorised Officer, Department of Immigration and Emigration on October 14 and it was twenty-three years after that, that I retired. The Department of Immigration and Emigration was established after the immigration acts were passed in 1949.

"Before this the Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued passports. This did not amount to much. For since SriLanka is part of the Commonwealth, it was not deemed necessary for citizens of our country to obtain visas to travel to the United Kingdom.

"In the good old days, SriLankans were welcome visitors and the Europeans were aliens-now it has taken an about turn," he says.

"Initially, the offices of the Immigration and Emigration Department were at the Galle Buck, Colombo 1. The staff consisted of seven authorised officers, three assistant controllers and 20 clerks. The office itself was like its staff. Small yet effective. I remember asking passport clerk Durai for the number of passports that were issued that day. Never was it more than twenty," he adds. Mr Durai was one of the first passport clerks employed by the department.

Mr Pieris was first stationed as the officer in charge of the Colombo Harbour. "There was never a rush," he reminisces, "Sri Lanka was not being promoted as a tourist destination at that time. It was mainly stopovers that we dealt with. That was the time of resettlement and the maximum visitors we expected were around 1500 Australians at the Colombo Harbour for a stopover every ten days. Even then there was no hurry to get things done.

"When a ship came into the harbour, an announcement would be made. We had no official transport at the time, and had to depend on the generosity of the shipping agents and police launches to get us to the ships. We'd leave the carpentry shed that had been converted to provide office space within the harbour limits and set out for the ship. Once the immigration officers were aboard the ship, the purser would make it known that passports were to be checked.

"Travellers would queue up in an orderly fashion while we checked the documents. Once that was over, we'd wait for another ship to return to the harbour," he said. Amongst the passports that have passed through his hands, are those of heads of state and diplomats.

"They didn't, of course, queue up and present their passports. Their secretaries would walk up and inform us that they were on board, and the passports were checked just like those of any other civilian.

"During the '50s work was completed on a roster basis with three shifts a day. There was hardly anything that happened during the night, unlike these days where the most number of flights seem to arrive at night.

"It was only the Ratmalana Airport that brought civilians in by air. Most of them were from Madras, India," he recalls.

"Offices were set up in Colombo, Katunayake, Kankesanthurai and Ratmalana. Katunayake was a military base right up till 1956. There really was no work as such there during the initial stages. Now I've heard that it is the busiest.

"Those days, it cost just Rs 10 to get a passport. I remember getting an emergency certificate for two rupees when I had to make a sudden trip to India. Those were the days. The rates have changed now, but I believe that the Department just cannot help it."

It is also interesting to note that the first few passports to pass through the newly established Department were British passports. While Sri Lanka had already gained independence there were still British documents that were made use of. "We used these until our own passports were printed," Mr. Pieris says.

But who taught him the ropes?

"We had to learn by ourselves. But the Controller of Immigration, C. J. Oorloff, was always there to supervise if any problem propped up.

His career in the Department was sandwiched between two teaching jobs. After his retirement in 1972 from the position of Assistant Controller, it was back to the classrooms. This time in Zambia.

The father of eight children and nine grandchildren, Mr Pieris has no regrets. Just a desire to learn a few more languages. "I cannot hide my age," he laughs. He has lived his life to extents that we'd only dream of, and as we wish him goodbye he replies, "never goodbye, always au revoir!"

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