Train Ride East

Scorpion Bite!

Some of you have heard by now that Miriam got stung by a scorpion a week ago! This was during the last three weeks that we spent away from Colombo - teaching in the East, visiting the boy's home, 3 night break at Nilavelli Beach ;), back to the boy's home and then back to the village again...

First thing that happened during the last week is that we missed our train from Trincomalee on the Monday and had to stay for an extra day there which meant getting the night train to Batticaloa, to arrive at 3.30 a.m only to leave again at 8 a.m to go teach in the village! So, the first day of teaching we were a little tired but enjoying being with our friends in the village as usual :) On the way to afternoon class we were taking the shortcut through a friend's backyard and Miriam spiked her foot on a stick (or so she thought!)...The wound on the top of her foot started bleeding and Miriam was in pain and wondering how a stick could have crept up her foot to pierce the skin like this on top! We sat down at the friend's house and she poured baby cologne on it...in the village the only medicines we've seen so far are baby cologne and vick's vapour rub...other medicines include herbal remedies from what nature provides...so, the baby cologne sealed the wound and it stopped bleeding, we carried on our way to class, played with the kids and everything and thought nothing else of it...

In the night the foot started hurting and by morning she couldn't walk on it. Tavergenie and I left Miriam at the church with her foot up while we went to teach our morning nursery class and by the time we got back Miri said her foot was in so much pain that to walk on it was agony...we called our tuk-tuk to pick us up early. He arrived that afternoon and still not knowing how bad it was, we went back to Batticoloa to take the night train back to Colombo. We made the 11-hour journey without having bought painkillers and seeing as the pain was so bad, I managed to scrounge some from the lady in front at about 3 in the morning! but to no avail! at every stop we just wished that the train would be there already - a long night of waiting! With every bump of the train Miri's face was agony...she can usually cope with pain so to see her like this showed that something was wrong, but we still didn't know what had made the wound!

At the station the guard was kind enough to help us off the train and to send for a wheelchair - two men then accompanied us to the gate - Miriam in the wheelchair and me carrying all of our bags (we have discovered that Sri Lankan men aren't that into chivalry!), our driver picked us up and we went straight to our friend's house. We are still there now!

We got to the hospital and the doctor said it looked like a scorpion bite but because we had taken so long to get to a hospital she was out of the 'risk period' and she just needed one week bedrest and the meds he prescribed...Another doctor did some tests to find that Miriam's blood count showed a very high level of infection, which she diagnosed as cellulitis (after that scorpion sting had worn of she had contracted this)...to cut a long story short Miri's been having antibiotics injections twice daily, getting a lot of bedrest and being pushed around in a wheelchair by me! Blood tests show that the infection has now gone so she just has to wait for the pain and swelling to go down...

With just over two weeks before we come back it's not quite how we pictured spending the last few days in Sri Lanka, but we have been well looked after by friends here which is a big blessing...I don't know what we'd have done if we'd have had to go back to Miriam's flat, which is up a flight of stairs. The family we are staying with is being very kind to us and are happy for us to stay as long as we want :) so we know we are still in God's hands :)

We should have been in Batti again this week, but it seems that plans have changed somewhat and as usual, we really don't have much of a clue what we're doing from one day to the next!..even so, we are hoping to make one last trip to the village to say goodbye before we leave...and soon this great adventure will be over!! :(

We are both looking forward to a hot bath and Mum's pastitsio and Chicken Dijon when we get home though, and jacket potatoes and cheddar cheese and baked beans - yum! ;)

Village Life

All aboard the off-road express...

Last week we made our first village trip in just over a month. This time we were looking forward to seeing people again but unsure of what to expect as we were moving bases from our friend’s house (the one who got married and caused uproar after the last time we visited – apparently, in the village if a lone man visits a woman on her own in her house and they ‘like’ each other, that’s the wedding over and done with…when this was explained to us, we realised it hadn’t been exactly planned, hence the reason we were totally unaware of the prospect when we visited the week before!) to the church building up the road, in another part of the village. Despite the small size of the village (possibly about 300 families in all) there are many splits and divisions, so even just to move up

the road is like going into new territory as we had never visited this part before. One thing we did know what to expect though was that the pastor had kindly built a toilet (hole in the floor set-up, course!) in our honour. The village now has three toilets - the rest of the three hundred households who don't have one are happy to use the bushes, but we were quite glad of our little concrete cubicle when we got there as it was the only privacy we had, even if the door didn't close properly and there was a hole at the top of the back wall...

On arrival we direct our three-wheeler towards the church. We drive up the main road and looking over at the church and at the ground in between realise there is no ‘road’ to church. We pile out, leaving our tuk-tuk man to figure his way through the scrub and along some kind of pathway towards the building. He stops at the gateway which leads into this part of the village – the church building and a small cluster of houses. The first little house is the one where we drop our bags. Its two small rooms are dark and damp and unlived in. Apart from one window covered by a unicef tarpaulin there is no other way for light to enter other than through the gap under the roof as the doorway is also covered by a sheltered corridor. We try to adjust our eyes to see, thinking that this must be our new village home. By the time we put our bags down it’s already time to start school.

At nursery we are greeted by ‘Good morning teacher’. We wonder if the children have managed to remember any other English since the last time we saw them. But first thing’s first; this time we’ve come equipped with 30 fluorescent toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste! As we hand them out the toothbrushes are received shyly with smiles and ‘than-goo’s. Miri dishes out the toothpaste and then we sing the ‘This is the way we brush our teeth’ song. When we ask if they already have toothbrushes at home the majority say they use their finger, so we learn how to brush your teeth with a toothbrush and toothpaste. This produces lots of giggles. We all brush our teeth inside and then spit in the ash pile in the school yard. Afterwards the children open their mouths wide to show off their newly cleaned teeth. Many of the kids’ teeth are already in a bad way but we hope they catch onto the habit in time to save their second set. As they leave, all holding their new possessions, their smiles and ‘bye’s are more lively than usual. They seem pleased with their gifts :)

After school we go to Ruby’s house (one of our 'favourites' from nursery!). It’s Ruby’s Mum, Brigitta, that will look after us while we stay at the church. When we arrive she’s not in. The neighbour behind calls us over to sit with her by the fence, passing over some plastic chairs, while we wait. After a while it is decided that we must be hungry and seeing as Brigitta will be cooking lunch for us the lady we are sitting with insists that we just eat ‘conjam’ (little) at her house and then a ‘conjam’ when our friend arrives. ‘Conjam’ turns out to be a full plate of rice accompanied by a green spinach-like vegetable. We finish our plate, almost ready to burst after our ‘little’ starter and waiting for our next meal in a somewhat stuffed and distressed manner. So that day we eat two ‘little’ lunches and then go teach the after school club in the afternoon – very tiring stuff! In that session the children all get Christmas lollipops sent all the way from Poundland, Llandudno by my Mum. So, in the morning we gave the nursery children toothbrushes and then we give out lollipops! The guilt of giving out this sugariness shrinks as the sweets are received by big smiles all round ;)

That afternoon we visit the lady we usually stay with, Selvi. She seems extra happy to see us as she seems to have fallen into good luck since we last met her - along with her new husband (who despite bringing along much strife in the shape of his mother who is demanding a 200,000 rupee dowry from her for the privilege of having him (an amount of money that is unthinkable for these people, whose budgets probably exceed no more than a couple of hundred rupees a week)) her brother is also visiting from Saudi Arabia where he and his mother live to work and send money back. Her brother has brought with him everything you need to live a life of luxury as put forward by the ideal of the western version of ‘civilisation’ and modernisation – a fan and a computer (probably the first computer this village has ever seen, especially since there is no electricity as of yet). Her mother has also sent some goodies, which our friend demonstrates as she proudly peels the potatoes with her new peeler. This is met with a stir of excitement from all there as we exclaim ‘ooo, a potato peeler’ – as if to say ‘look at you, aren’t you going up in he world!’. We eat mango the village way – unripe, still hard with its ripe flesh and sprinkled with salt or dipped in salt water – and then we feed on a meal of fish and rice and ‘bitterguard’ – a new vegetable discovery for me. It’s wrinkly round the edges and…bitter. As it goes dark we’re shuttled across the plain on the back of the bikes of two boys who seem to enjoy racing as they ride along with us balancing precariously on the back. They are probably wondering at how heavy we are after such a big meal. As after every other meal, we are stuffed. We go to finish the evening off at Ruby’s house with every intention of collapsing in ‘bed’ (tarp and straw mat on a sand floor) back at the church as soon as possible. As we sit in the light of the oil lamp, playing with the children, we hear shouts coming from the neighbour on the other side – Rita, whose house we ate at on the last visit and the mother of one of our nursery children. As we wonder what the commotion is about Brigitta comes over to break the news: Rita’s cooked dinner for us tonight, thinking it was her turn to cook. We’re going to have to go eat something to make her happy! We look at Brigitta in despair at the thought of even trying to fit anything else in! These people are so hospitable they’ve cooked for us twice! And to cook a meal for four extra guests is no small thing…we are going to have to fulfil our duty to eat and be filled – very filled! Brigitta begs us to just eat a ‘conjam’ to make her neighbour happy, so we concede and after an hour or so we are sat down on the mat at the neighbour’s house, pleading ‘conjam conjam’ as we watch her dish up…This ‘conjam’ is even bigger than the last! In the flickering light we can just about see our plates piled high with rice and curry as she brings them over. We gulp and try our best to be good. When I’ve eaten a normal meal size and there is still a plateful left, I come to a stop, feeling that carrying on stuffing my-self could have disastrous consequences! Thankfully in this culture it seems that they don’t get too offended at leftovers (although they usually tut over it, but sympathetically). People just seem happy to have been given an opportunity to exercise hospitality, which is a blessing for us, despite being continuously full to the brim!

So on the first night we almost roll home and go to sleep for the night in the church building, which has been designated as the bedroom – the house as the wardrobe and storage cupboard. Inside the church is quite the opposite of the house. It is the same red brick and tin roof structure with air holes and light coming in all over the place. If you want an airy place, this is the room to choose – There are three big windows – two of them looking out to a beautiful view of the plain stretching out ahead of us. Each window is a hole about 4 foot across, with a grid over it - the air flows through rather freely! Added to that is the bonus of missing bricks in the walls that seem to have been left their as air holes and the gap under the roof. The church building comprises of 1 room with two plastic chairs, a pile of breeze blocks and no floor. We are so tired that we’ll sleep anywhere and after sharing our floor with mr.rat and a monster spider on the last few visits to the village, I drift off quickly, resigned to the fact that creepy crawlies will crawl in the night, and go to sleep. The sand is most comfortable :)

In the morning, when I open my eyes there is a row of bemused faces at the window looking back at me. The adults stand at the window and the children stand at the open door. It seems that the whole of our little bit of village has come out to say good morning and are wondering why we’re not already up and about like they are at this hour of the day – it’s already 6.45! I get up in my pyjamas much to their amusement (I’m wearing a top with teddy bears and easter bunnies on it and purple check pj bottoms – I just didn’t think it through!!) I smile back in a sleepy state, happy to be of some amusement – yet again - and explain to some of the girls the next morning: ‘these are English pyjamas’, as if to excuse myself from looking completely out of place - here where the girls are all lady-like in their house dresses, shalvas and skirts at all times. (note from Miriam…I don’t wear house dress and shalvas..but my pyjamas are normal)

The second morning we are given a breakfast of red rice mixed with coconut milk and bananas and then are given a second breakfast by some of the nursery mums which we eat the teacher – string hoppers and paripoo (dahl/lentils). The eating follows the same pattern for the whole time we are there. If we aren’t given two meals we are at least fed until we are stuffed every day. If we are invited to say hello as we pass someone’s house there is always a certainty that you will get food or drink – either mango or papaya picked from the tree (one house we visited was under a big mango tree and most of its mangoes were ripe already – that was an enjoyable visit ;)), or a large amount of rice and curry. Miri and I don’t have much tamil between us but it seems possible to make conversation just by using the words ‘erevitti munde’ (23), ‘conjam’ (little), ‘nala russi’ (tasty), ‘kulapadi kurange’ (naughty monkey) and ‘micke nundry’ (thank you very much) with a few other words and phrases thrown in along the way. The tamil girl that comes with us does most of the talking and when we see them look over and talk about us we just smile :) There’s a lot to be said for body language and actions. They seem rather good at striking up friendships. Added to that, of course, is the obvious – we’re not from around here – so people are intrigued and enthusiastic to encounter this visitation from the outside for themselves. When we sit with the children they stroke my legs, they point at my spots and mosquito bites, they find all my blemishes, amused at the fact that you can see them because they show up on my skin. You learn not to mind and not to be surprised when people prod you and poke you and pat your belly!

We leave the village waving to our new friends and looking forward to the next visit, but also looking forward to a shower and a cold drink ;)

Our roof guests a.k.a The Common Golden Civet

Here are our civets. Mother top and bottom. Baby in the middle. They haven't been round the last couple of nights (since I spent the night watching them with a torch) but apparently they are quite sticky and hard to get rid of, so it's quite possible they'll be back!.. We also have news of the other baby which got caught the first night we became aware of them ... We had been told that it was in a cage at the neighbour's house across the road and that they were looking after it, bottle feeding it even. So, yesterday we knock on their door, ready to take pictures of their new baby pet civet. The lady answers and in broken English says, 'Oh, yes, that thing...I give it to my friends...they eat it.'... !! So, farewell the 1st baby civet! After looking up about these animals online and watching some youtube videos of tame ones (apparently they're quite friendly with humans and shouldn't be dangerous), I was beginning to warm to the idea of keeping our guests...and then to find out that one of the family got eaten and it was our fault for alerting the landlord in the first place..! The baby didn't even have much meat on it!! I guess here they're like pests, so it's just like eating a pigeon or a rabbit...which some people do..?!

The Case of The Mysterious Paw Prints: Solved

Once upon a time in the middle of the night, Miriam awakes to see the shadow of a strange creature walking across her ceiling. She has no idea what it is. She goes back to sleep. In the morning she describes it to the landlord who says they are sometimes dangerous. She still has no idea what it is…

A month or two ago I am lying in bed looking up at the wall above us and notice some paw prints. At first we think chipmunks, then maybe a cat, but wonder how on earth whatever made it managed to walk along the wall horizontally…The Case of the Mysterious Paw Prints…

Sunday morning I wake at 6 a.m to the sound of things running across our roof and crows making a racket overhead. I look out of the window and the crows seem to be diving at our house. I go back to bed and while I’m lying there listening, I hear a chirping noise coming from underneath the roof, just above the bathroom (The bathroom has a false ceiling which makes a shelf so that we can’t see under that bit of roof. The rest of the roof is an open tin/asbestos roof with a five-inch gap round between the roof and the top of the wall.). It sounds like a nest of chicks has just hatched in our house. I make a mental note to investigate when I wake up again.

But Sunday is a busy day. Until Miriam starts sneezing with hayfever I forget about the birds. We’re out for the day and it’s nearly 9 in the evening when we get back from our friend’s house equipped with freshly made rotti, chicken curry and dahl, ready to start packing and preparing for leaving for Batti the next day. We start to dish up dinner - the smell filling the room - and then…

Something moves above us, we look up to see a pink mouth laced with teeth open wide and squawking at us. At first we thought maybe a fruit bat but when it turned around a long black tail hung over the side of the wall. It turns back again to look at us and then there are two – two pairs of black glistening eyes set in two round black heads inspecting us. We seem to be invading their space. We stare back, wondering what on earth we are looking at and whether it’s going to come down to steal our dinner. As we watch they wander along to what seems to be their new home – the shelf above the bathroom, making the same bird-like chirping I had heard in the morning. As we wait for them to appear again the mother comes along the wall – the mother is big, black and furry and with tail measures about a meter long. This gives us a bit of a shock and as we watch her enter the house under the roof she stretches her paws down onto the wall below so that she has room to squeeze under the beams. Case of the mysterious paw prints solved!

As she also retreats to the shelf above the bathroom we wonder how long we’ve been sharing a house with these animals and what we’re supposed to do about it! We carry on looking up to the gap above the bathroom shelf, not quite believing what we just saw and slightly nervous at the possibility that the mother might have sharp teeth. The babies wander along every now and then to watch us, maybe also wondering what these two strange creatures are. They look cute with their little round faces and round ears, but their mother is not and she seems upset that they’ve ruined their cover. We decide the best thing to do is to cover up our dinner and to go downstairs to pass the problem onto the landlord who comes up and is equally bemused by the situation. The animals come out to stare him off too until he starts poking them with a broom and their mother comes along again. This time she leaves the house with one of the babies. We watch her climbing up the neighbour’s wall towards the hole in their roof. The landlord tells us to go inside the house and shut the door, which makes us think that this angry mother does actually have sharp teeth and is coming back. But then as we watch out of the window we see the left behind baby climbing up the wall of the neighbour’s house to find its mother. Unfortunately for it our landlord is also out there with the neighbour who is on the roof between our house and the next with a broom. As we watch it get knocked off the wall and down onto the hedge below we scream and wonder what’s become of it. We hear shouts from downstairs and conclude that it must have come to a sad end. There’s certainly no RSPCA so it won’t have gone there. But when we see him afterwards our landlord says it’s in a cage at the neighbour’s house across the road, adding to their menagerie of peculiar pets. Sad for its mother but safe in the knowledge that it’s being taken care of, we turn back to our rotti dinner and hope that the mother doesn’t come back for revenge..!

So last week we went to Batti and got back the day before yesterday. Lastnight, I wake up in the middle of the night to see a shadow walking across the beam. I get up and turn the light on and after a while realised I am being watched. The baby animal – whatever it is – stares at me silently with big round reddish eyes – rather disconcerting as it doesn’t seem at all scared of me. It seems to be wondering what I am doing in its house. I try to go back to sleep but find it hard with this unknown creature lurking in the roof above us. I text my Dad and together we decide that the animal is a Sri Lankan Palm Civet. I follow the mother and baby with a torch as they walk along the wall, thinking that I should try to scare them off but knowing they have teeth, don’t want to scare them so much that they fall in the room with me and they’re interesting to watch. If I could hoist up a camera onto the shelf above the bathroom I’d have a documentary to compete with Attenborough, I think to myself as I go back to bed. So for now we are sharing a house with a family of Palm Civets. Civets are those animals which make that really expensive coffee – Kopi Luwak or the coffee made from poo, so maybe if we keep them we can get rich and buy a car and all live happily ever after..? They don’t seem scared of us. They just stare silently…I think tonight they’re going to have to go....

Current Activities

I mentioned in the Trincomalee post about the boy's home that we visited. As Miriam now finds herself heading to Trincomalee in the near future to head a girl's home we've decided to carry on visiting the boys as much as we can while I'm still here. Our work in Batti seems to be coming to an end due to several obstacles that have been put in our way and also just because of the lack of autonomy that we have to work in that village without our own transport and without proper communication, etc. So, while we don't want to abandon that work completely we feel that the next couple of times we go will be the last for a while and then Miri can visit again in the future.

The boys that we'll be visiting are between the ages of 7-10 and they have all lost their parents in the war. Most of them have come from the camps in the North. After we left Trincomalee God really put it on our hearts to pray for them and see how we can help bring healing and life to their home. At the moment they are safe from the dangers of the war and the camps, but it seems that the house parents in charge are not aware or don't know how to cope with the psychological and emotional problems that these children have developed. Their basic needs are met - they have accommodation and food - but to us the home seemed a little like boot camp. It seemed like these children were occupied with doing chores and doing their homework the whole time, with no time to play. When we did try to play with them they behaved as if they didn't have the right to play with the toys they'd been given and instead carried on tidying up.

So, when we go back we're going back to change things. The parents are open to input so it might be possible that we can introduce an atmosphere of love and play into that house and to make it into a home. That's the plan anyway! The children don't smile so want to make them smile :) They don't have a mum and dad so we want to encourage the house parents to show affection and love towards them. We want them to be a family. At the moment it's all a bit like an institution. We feel that it's very important to focus on the boys before Miriam has her home when she will focus mainly on her girls.

So that's the plan! Tomorrow we go to the village near Batti and maybe the week after that too, but the rest of the time will be spent with the boys. We need wisdom to understand their situation and to know how we can help. As it is we definitely don't know it all and have a lot to learn!

Hopefully I will be able to post some pictures of some smiling happy boys soon :)

Night Train : Tincomalee – Colombo

The carriage rocks from side to side as the tracks rattle by below. Outside, everything is in darkness apart from the window frames of light that rush along with the train, lighting up paddies and jungle as we go by. The bright greens of the rice paddies and the deep greens of the undergrowth go past in shades of grey and brown. After each station the steam streams through the wide open windows.

Inside, the clunky grey fans come to a halt as everyone drifts off to sleep. The sleeping faces are lit up by the bright lights above while I settle down for bursts of jolted disturbed sleep, waking at intervals to keep an eye on our bags and to try and find a more comfortable position. At one point we are woken by a man who seems adamant that we need to move our bags so that he can sit next to us. I look at him in a sleepy state trying to figure out this non-sober looking man but before matters go any further the men who stand in between carriages are at our rescue, telling him to find another seat. We get an odd sense of security from these men who keep watch over us. There is always at least one on every train ride. They spot us on the platform and next they are in our carriage - not threatening or overly-forward, usually not speaking to us at all - just there to look over at us from time to time and smile…at first creepy, but also reassuring that our bags are less likely to get stolen this time because they are there...unlikely travel companions?? (still, with no CCTV and no trustworthy security forces, you judge for yourself!!)…

As sleep is unsuccessful I observe my surroundings and gaze into the black outside...

Hundreds of flies – house flies, fruit flies and dragonflies – flicker around the strip lights overhead. The mosquitoes stay down below, drifting around us – their prey (At night the toilet becomes a mosquito’s lair – you visit at your own peril!). The window frame I am trying to make into a comfortable headrest is dusty and rusty. The seats are at an upright angle - worn brown leather with wooden armrests. The ceiling peels off grey paint and the baggage racks overhead are home to spiders lying in wait for their meal, already trapped by the train as it whizzed by (when I say whizzed by these trains usually chug along at 60 km/h but this seems fast when it’s dark and next to an open window.).

As we coast into Maho Junction – our halfway point – at around 1a.m, echoes of ‘koppi, koppi, koppi’ (having tasted this we don’t know if they are just mixing up their ‘f’s and their ‘p’s as many Sri Lankans do, or if this is a mixture between coffee and tea - it doesn’t quite taste like either!) and ‘Amba, amba, amba’ (mango – buy a whole bag of them for 50 rps, or buy one already chopped and devilled with chilli and salt.), make their way up the platform. A lady holding a bowl of betel wrapped in banana leaves (betel chewing is a long-standing Sri Lankan tradition – betel being a mixture of tobacco and spices and some other leaf – red-eyed men and old women chew it and spit it out in a fountain of red spit in the street.), men with kettles, flasks and plastic cups at the ready along with basket-full of rotti and ‘short eats’ for the sleepy travellers. Further down the platform a man stands next to bunches of ‘king cokey, king cokey’, selling king coconuts as a late night drink. This rhyming chorus interrupts the quiet murmur of the passengers gathered in groups on the platform as the carriage lights go out and we are left in darkness looking out at this late night market place. A Sri Lankan flag flutters above the dimly lit platform and the chants from a mosque somewhere in the distance drift over the station.

At each stop the warm breeze flows through the carriage, bringing with it the sickly smell of urine from the platform and from the toilet at the end of the carriage. As the breeze turns we wish away the wait at each stop, holding our breathe for some fresh air. On leaving Maho Junction it’s fresh air we get as the night air becomes cool and flows over us. Talk about a remedy for over-heating – as we move further into the night the cold air comes through and shakes our bodies, adding shivers to an already restless sleep.

Trinco & Nilaveli

We pick out the name of a hotel from our guide book, having no other knowledge of the area, and when we are driven through the gates of Nilaveli Beach Hotel it suddenly occurs to us that we might have picked the nicest hotel around and that actually it might be a little above us! This thought is confirmed when we are shown the price list of $100+ dollars a night but when we are asked if we are foreign or not, Miri shows her resident’s visa, we are shown the Sri Lankan citizen and ex-pat price list and we breathe a sigh of relief!

We are welcomed to the hotel with a glass of fresh juice and then settle down for a weekend break in a luxury hotel by the beach! Of course, we were only here because Miri needed to rest but what a nice place to rest! Thick white towels, clean sheets, air-conditioning, no mustiness, no dustiness, hot and cold water – even a kettle with tea and coffee! It may have seemed just up to standard in the UK but to us it was luxury! Along with the trees that stretched out in front of us to Nilavelli beach, the air-conditioned cabin, the swimming pool and the restaurant opening out onto the sand was a haven. The brunt of the heat that shone onto the scorching sand of our beach flowed between the trees and became a warm breeze. There was even a troupe of monkeys that hung around in the trees and came to spy on us from the branches above while we waited for a room.

So we had another holiday ;) A swim in the morning and the afternoon in between sleeping and eating. I did the eating rather than Miriam who was saddly forced to abstain from the evening buffets of all sorts of cuisine – much to her horror there was even barbecue and Chinese! I used this as an excuse to say that we’d have to come back again oneday so that she could enjoy it too ;p

Nilavelli isn’t so much of a beach resort as just a sparse string of hotels dotted along the beach after Trincomalee. The beach that belongs to the hotel, looking out at Pigeon Island, is next to a navy base which also fronts out onto the sand. In that direction there’s a ‘No Entry’ sign and in the other direction the beach is sepearated from the rest of the stretch of sand by a rope fence. While our sand was white and virtually empty apart from the odd milky white and rosy-skinned holiday-maker the other side of the rope brimmed continually with groups of school children in their white school uniforms, fully clothed families and groups of boys playing in the sea. One time a group of monks, robed in their signature orange, came bursting onto the beach, throwing off their cloaks as they ran towards the sea before diving in. That side of the beach, like the Sri Lankan side of the beach at Unawatuna, was always buzzing. The guards from our hotel would eye the few who ventured onto our side of the beach with suspicion, as if they were bound to be trouble-makers. Again, that blatant separation between the holiday-makers and the locals, between those with money and those without.

On leaving our hotel compound the culture shock was more obvious than when I first came to the country. Inside we were treated like queens by those who came from outside. Now, back into the real Sri Lanka – no sprinklers, no-one to sweep the pavements and gardens from dawn till dusk, no air-conditioned, luxury rooms to hide in, no choice between hot or cold water, no stillness or quiet – just the bare necessities, just the raw-ness of life that is prominent in everyday life in Lanka. On the way back to Trinco I wonder whether it’s right to afford ourselves such luxuries and then go back to our boy’s home and be with people who live worlds apart from our beach retreat. It’s as if we are part of two worlds, as if we have the choice to run away and hide when we are tired and weighed down by the vividness of it all while most of our Sri Lankan friends only have the choice of and have only ever known the real Lanka.

But when we do go back, there doesn’t seem to be any sense of hard-feeling. It seems that they take it for granted that being foreigners here we are going to need to escape from time to time. In fact, they seem surprised that we can cope with Sri Lanka at all – How do we cope without air conditioning, how do we cope without electricity when we go to the village? They look at us in amazement…

So, for now, we’ve found a good hide out…It also occurred to us that it might be a good place to bump into kind rich people who might give us money and cars and things like that ;p

Colombo - Trincomalee

So as usual, the last two weeks have gone entirely not according to plan! We were supposed to be going to Trincomalee to visit the boys’ home the Monday before last. Instead we ended up taking the train on the Thursday morning, getting us there for Thursday afternoon. The two days before this were spent wrapping wedding cake (a very long process, which we escaped the last day of, because everyone had gone to sleep and had just left us to it…so we also sneaked off!!) and surprising our friend with an ice cream party for her Birthday. We arrived at our friend’s house where she works (in which she is the maid) with a pot of melting chocolate ice cream and chocolate wafers, stick a winnie-the-pooh candle in it and sing Happy Birthday – she says it’s like a dream and she will remember this day forever :)

The next day a friend comes to collect us at 4:45 am on the dot and drives us to the train station in Colombo. We drive through the deserted streets of Wattala and along the river to Colombo. On the way there is one dimly-lit shop front - the old shop-keeper sitting on a stool amongst packets of Anchor milk powder and devilled cashew nuts, under a fading light, waiting for the sun to come up and for his first customers to arrive. The fish stalls along the river lie in wait as one lone boat glides sleepily towards the estuary for its daily catch. At the bridge the guards do their usual ‘smile check’ and wave us on. The streets are still quiet on this side of the bridge – with just the odd wanderer here and there. At the opening of one street a man stands in the middle of the road looking down at a kitten who sits at his feet looking back at him – it looks like they are having some early morning fellowship before both go about their daily business.

Further into Colombo a trickle of cars and buses appear. As we drive by one of the bus stops where a bus is backing out directly into our path, our Sri Lankan friend begins a rant about Sri Lankan drivers, Sri Lankan roads, Sri Lankan officials, comparing with despair the pot-holes we are now trying to avoid to the smoothness of the tarmacked roads in Britain. As we contemplate the traffic laws of the UK, I notice that I’m the only one of the three of us wearing a seat-belt. This results in our friend turning around in his seat to verify the incredulous fact that I am actually using the seat belt provided – most probably a first for this car - and he turns back to the wheel shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

As we near the station we enter the market area. In the dark, mounds of king coconuts sit waiting to be collected from the wholesalers who mingle on the side of the road. Huge jack fruit stand the pavement and crowd the back of one of the tuk-tuks driving away with the day’s supplies. The street is buzzing with chatter and commerce. Watching all the goings on I get the impression that at it’s heart, this city never sleeps. Tall bundles of leaves and clusters of brown coconuts pack candle-lit shop doorways leaving just enough space for the vendors and their customers to barter and socialise in the cool before dawn. People and their wares spread out across the pavement as the deals that will stock the shelves of Colombo for the day are made.

By the time we board the dark train at 5:45, it feels like half a day has gone by already. As daylight floats into the station we’re off.

What is supposed to be a 7-hour journey to Trincomalee inevitably turned into a 9-hour one. It’s the same distance as from Colombo to Batticoloa and for most of the way we follow the same track. At the last major junction the carriages attached to ours go on their way to Batti and we are left looking at the empty track trailing off behind us. Past the rice paddies, through the jungle, no elephants this time but we do see a 2m long green snake exploring a pile of rubbish at one of the stations and as we get into Trincomalee there is a monkey playing in a tree. If you see a tree with its branches thrashing around and its leaves falling off, then you know there is a cheeky monkey somewhere in its greenery :p

As we pass a station called China Bay and move onto Trincomalee the road we run along is newly tarmacked with a fresh yellow line down the middle. We have heard that, since the war, investment is being put back into the town in order to renew its tourism status. It seems that Batti never quite achieved the same status. Both, despite being capitals of the Eastern region, look more like suburbs or stretched out towns rather than cities with centres, etc. You still see the odd cow by the side of the road. The shops are the same open-front ‘living-room’ shops. Fruit and veg, fish stalls, convenience shops, bread vans, shops selling anything and everything. There is no variety but there is everything you need.

When the train comes to a stop at Trincomalee the big black crows waiting on the platform hop through the windows to scour the brown leather seats for scraps left by the few remaining passengers who have stayed with us until the final destination. We gather our bags in a hurry to avoid getting in their way!

At the station we are met by the man who runs the boy’s home with his wife and their 3-year old son. When we get to the home the boys are all hiding from us until they are found and told to come in and say hello. The 11 boys stand in a line in front of us with their house mother. 11 boys all the age of 10 or under, all around the same height, all with the same crew cuts. They look at us shyly and in silence until they are encouraged to tell us their names. After that’s done they are still quiet and remain silent at our attempts to get them to laugh or to smile. They speak no English and we speak very little Tamil. It’s clear that we are going to have to resolve the situation with play. We tell the parents of our hopes to teach English and play games with the boys. Hopefully this will dissolve their fear towards these strange girls and their alien language.

It looks like the boys are occupied for the afternoon so our day is given to a whistle-stop tour of Trincomalee, and first of all the beach. We drive past the lagoon and on to the seaside where there is an ice cream van and a promenade and everything! The sea is turquoise blue and clear, quite unlike the most recent seascape we visited at Colombo – black sand and brown waves overflowing with rubbish. Locals and holiday-makers paddle fully clothed and a group of men swim and play in the shallows (In Sri Lanka, swimming is not considered as an essential life skill, so most of the visitors to the seaside don’t swim and if they do venture into the water they usually stay in the shallows – this discounting those who have grown up by and make their livelihoods from the sea, who are in it all the time.). After a paddle and a sit, our guides take us up the hill at the end of the beach called Rama’s Seat. This hill and the temple that sits on top of it is a very important and historical site for Hindus who make pilgrimage from all over Sri Lanka at certain times of the year. At this time of the year it’s quiet. The stalls leading up to the temple display their wares – cheap toys and souvenirs, religious ornaments, decorations and sweets – to empty streets. We are the only passers by and unfortunately for them, we’re there for the view. Fishing boats go back and forth over the water below, the sky turning to sunset in soft pastel shades. Hazy hills surround the town and its surrounding lagoons in the distance. A sea eagle soars above us. Speckled deer rummage in the leaves below the giant tree (these trees are common but I have no idea what they’re called and neither do our Sri Lankan friends – they’re just great big huge trees wrapped in thick vines that fall from their branches (see the picture of the one in Galle in the Unawatuna album below)) that begins the walk up to to the temple. Sunsets always pour out a calmness and serenity onto the day and all its goings on, wherever you are in the world, and this is just one of those nice places to enjoy it from.

Unfortunately, by the the next day Miriam is not feeling so well so we decide that it’s best to leave and come back when she’s better. We escape to a hotel along the coast…