By: John S. Morlu II, CPA
Let me tell you something unexpected about my time in Sri Lanka: I came for our team and to oversee the completion of FinovatePro, but I stayed for the diplomatic relations — not just with the people, but with the dogs.
Yes, dogs.
In Gambia, cows roam the streets like they’re late for a cabinet meeting or attending a protest titled “We Were Here First.” They chew slowly, cross randomly, and sometimes stand in front of your car as if asking, “Where exactly do you think you’re going, sir?”
In parts of Ghana — especially around Ho, Tamale, and the Volta Region — goats and sheep are the real pedestrians. You’ll find them roaming the middle of the road in full confidence, looking both ways before crossing — and sometimes not. They even join local football games, invade wedding parties, or attend town meetings uninvited.
But it doesn’t end there:
- In India, cows are not just sacred — they’re road royalty. You slow down. You stop. You wait. One friend told me, “You can honk at a Prime Minister, but not at a cow.” The cows know it, too. They walk like they’re on a spiritual runway, calm and unapologetic.
- In Nepal, monkeys are the unofficial mayors of some towns. They steal sunglasses, throw mango peels, and take unapproved dips in rooftop water tanks.
- In Rwanda, you’ll see bicycles racing with goats being balanced like groceries. One farmer told me, “If the goat falls, the bike fails.” Deep philosophy.
- In Vietnam, chickens, pigs, and scooters share the same five-foot-wide village road in what can only be described as organized mayhem.
- In Tanzania, donkeys stroll across the road like philosophers, often carrying entire households on their backs while chewing in deep thought.
- In Liberia, chickens treat every sunrise as a presidential address. They crow nonstop, walk across compound gates like landlords, and fly just enough to confuse you into thinking they might respect boundaries. They don’t.
But Sri Lanka?
Here, you say hello to dogs. Not wild dogs. Not barking strays. But peaceful, observant, Zen-like canines.
They are everywhere: lying under tuk-tuks, napping at the steps of ancient temples, slowly blinking at you as you pass by. They are not in a rush. In fact, they often look like they’ve seen too much — like they’ve been here before.
And the people? Also smiling. Also calm. I found myself juggling these two relationships: kind people offering tea, and silent dogs offering eye contact and quiet judgment.
The Sigiriya Incident: When Bark Meets Boombox
Everything was going smoothly until I visited Sigiriya — the ancient rock fortress, safari gateway, and spiritual marvel. Think Machu Picchu meets Lion King, but with a Buddhist filter and better curry.
Now, full disclosure: I brought my American voice with me.
See, in the U.S., talking loud is a personality trait. It’s how we bond, how we order, how we confirm existence. You say “Hey!” and wave like you’re landing a plane. In America, volume equals energy, and energy equals “I’m here.”
So, I’m walking and talking through Sigiriya, explaining something to my guide in full audio performance mode — dramatic hand gestures included. I’m mid-sentence when I hear… silence.
But not peaceful silence. Suspicious silence.
One dog looks up. Not with joy. Not with curiosity. But with intellectual concern. As if he were a monk mid-meditation and I had walked into his temple with a leaf blower.
He steps forward. Slowly. Calmly. Like a bouncer at a spiritual nightclub.
No bark. No growl. Just the aura of ancient judgment.
I freeze. The guide freezes. The air freezes.
I turn off the TED Talk in my throat. I lower my tone. I slow my breathing. I act like I belong in a monastery.
The dog watches. Waits. Then turns around and fades back into the forest, like a samurai whose duty had been fulfilled.
What I Learned From My Furry Diplomats
- Sri Lankan dogs are not street animals. They are civilian regulators, enforcing cultural peace.
- Volume is a currency. Spend too much, and Sri Lankan society — including its dogs — will politely revoke your speaking license.
- These dogs have masters degrees in social awareness. They don’t chase. They correct. They vibe-check humans in real time.
- I swear, one dog I passed in Kandy looked me in the eye like he was the reincarnation of a 4th-century monk who had seen it all and simply wanted silence and respect.
These are dogs that don’t bark for fun. They bark for philosophical reasons. You don’t just pet them. You ask permission with your soul.
Final Reflection: Dogs, Discipline, and the Art of Lowering Your Voice
In many countries, animals and humans compete for the streets. There’s noise, chaos, movement, tension. It’s a dance of survival. But in Sri Lanka, there’s a quiet rhythm — a kind of living peace pact between people, animals, and nature.
The people taught me hospitality.
The dogs taught me boundaries.
In a country this calm, even the animals follow unspoken rules. They coexist, not because someone told them to — but because it’s just how things work here.
And that’s what makes Sri Lanka magical.
Here, your loudness doesn’t prove your power. Your silence proves your awareness. Even the dogs will remind you.
So now, when I walk through a quiet town, I think before I speak.
I read the room.
I glance at the dog.
If he’s at peace, I match it.
If he stares too long, I lower my voice and repent quietly.
Because in Sri Lanka, the streets aren’t ruled by noise.
They’re ruled by respect — and the dogs are watching.
About the Author
John is an entrepreneur, strategist, and founder of JS Morlu, LLC, a Virginia based CPA firm with multiple software ventures including www.FinovatePro.com, www.Recksoft.com and www.Fixaars.com . With operations spanning multiple countries, John is on a mission to build global infrastructure that empowers small businesses, entrepreneurs, and professionals to thrive in an increasingly competitive world. He believes in hard truths, smart execution, and the relentless pursuit of excellence. When he’s not writing or building, he’s challenging someone to a productivity contest—or inventing software that automates it.
