This was our 2nd trip to the East. This time the train left on time and got to Batti early! And this time we saw 3 elephants! Once you see an elephant standing in the undergrowth it is hard to go to sleep or to close your eyes even for a second, for fear of missing out on the next sighting!
When we arrive in Batti we find out that our usual tuk-tuk driver is out of town so our friend sets about the difficult task of finding someone else who is willing to take us out to the village. Most of the drivers refuse but finally by morning we have a ride from a young tuk-tuk driver, probably wondering what he has let him-self in for!
On arrival at the village: plain tea and a lift to school. Today, animals: Hop like a rabbit, wave your trunk like an elephant and ‘meh’ like a cow..?! After class we play with the children while the older ones from the class next door all come to watch through the fence. It seems that they spend the whole morning waiting for their teacher to arrive, if he does, and by the time we are leaving he is having a nap at his table in front of the blackboard. We walk past the rest of the children who run outside to wave us off. It seems that either their teachers didn’t come to school today or they have better things to do than teach the children.
Next, lunch and nap, then the after-school club. We give pencils out to those who don’t have anything to write with and one of the older girls takes over the role of pencil keeper to ensure that no pencil swindling is going on. Some of the kids hide their existing pencils because they want a new red one, but unfortunately we are on strict pencil rations. After class: rounders. At one point the ball lands on the roof of the school and before we know it two of the teenagers are up the tree and racing across the sloping tile roof to get the ball. I laugh at how many ‘health and safety’ rules we’d be breaking if we let this happen in a youth club in
The first house we visit is the Grandma of a little girl from nursery, the cheekiest, most out-going of them all, the best at English. We are honoured to be at her house. I know you’re not supposed to have favourites, but she is just one of those children who you have to love ;) Her mother then takes us to her house for dinner. Their house is a mud hut with palm roof and goat house next to it, in a large clearing under the trees. We sit there as the sun sets and the children play, picking up sticks from the fire and chasing each other. These kids are ruthless! They shake the unripe mangoes from the tree we are sitting under and proceed to chop them open with a huge carving knife, which they seem used to handling. I sit there thinking about how resourceful and fearless these kids are – hardy, to say the least! When we have eaten it is dark outside and everyone is worried about us riding back along the plain on our own, so we are given two torches and an uncle to accompany us.
Riding across the plain in the pitch black is surreal. I focus on the torchlight bumping up and down in front of me, to try and stay on my bike and on the road. I can’t see to the right or to the left of me but I can see the stars above and the lightning that pulses across the sky in the distance. With no street lights around for
When we get home we sit outside by candlelight, under the stars. My admiration of the stars and my exclamations of ‘it’s so beautiful!’ amuse my hosts for who the night sky is just an extension of their living room ceiling, part of their routine. Sun down at 6.30, the children do their homework by candlelight inside, the adults sit outside. Sleep at 9 and up with the sun at 5. During the night we either sleep to the songs on the tamil hindu radio (battery-charged) or the silence in which crickets chirp on the floor next to us and the whir of wings as an unknown flying insect comes closer and crash-lands on our heads. In the next room the family can see our torch light flashing on and off throughout the night as we try to catch whatever insect we feel running across our legs or lurking in the darkness next to us.! The night air is filled with the noise of dogs howling and growling until dawn, when we wake to the sound of sweeping outside and the children getting ready for school.
Outside the air is still cool until 7, when the sun catches the tin roof we sit under, watching the world go by. Men pile onto tractors and bikes to the fields where they will work for the day. Children cycle to school in their bright white uniforms, usually two to a bike. By 6.30 we already have a visitor. People literally pop in anytime. They bring news/gossip, they come with a question, a request to borrow something, to eat, to drink. For the most part everyone’s house is open to everyone in the little village.
The children go to school until 1 o’ clock, when they come back for lunch and to nap, play, do their homework and to help where they are told to. The 13 year-old in our house goes out to fetch water from the well whenever the pots are emptied. When Miri and I offer our help, they give us the plastic pot to carry between us while the little girl follows behind with the metal pot balanced on her hips and a bucket full in her hand. The metal water pot weighs twice as much as the plastic one and each carries about
On our arrival back in Colombo, after another 12 hour train journey the heavens open. Our bus wades through the waters, which have now turned the streets into a seascape. 200 miles away in our little village (yes, only200 miles away despite the 12 hour train journey!) while lightning lingers on the horizon there is no sign of rain. Here, waves roll up onto the pavements of Colombo and lap at the shop-keepers feet. Watching the water threatening to flow over the doorstop into their shops, they simply roll up their trousers and smile at the clouds :)
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