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…

School

Village in the East

Zoë’s lil’ encyclopaedia of Life in Lanka*…

Children – Adored, especially by men who play with them and spoil them freely and publicly without fear of raising suspicion. Children are given responsibilities at a young age.

Chilli – Chilli is an essential ingredient to every curry – chilli powder and fresh chillis in large quantities. Tamil curries are hotter than Sinhalese curries. Some curries are so hot they make the Sri Lankans themselves cry! Chilli, salt and pepper are also sprinkled on mango, pineapple or any other kind of fruit as a snack.

Consumer choice

Once the good clothes and good cotton have been shipped off to Debenham’s and Marks&Spencer’s the average Sri Lankan consumer is left with the rejects. Each clothes shop (barring those in the up-market areas of Colombo) is a rainbow of gaudy colours and poor materials. Everything seems to be the same size, despite the erratic labelling system, under which what would be labelled a size 10 in the UK becomes an XXXL. This labelling system also accounts for the reason that on the same rack of one type of clothing you’ll find Florence+Fred labels mixed in with M&S, Next and other random labels.

The good thing about this is that there is no set ‘fashion’ to keep up with, apart from a growing trend to become more and more western. Colours, patterns and styles do not have to match and do not conform to what everyone else is wearing. People are a happy, buzzing colourful patchwork. Miri wants to add that, in fact, if you’re lucky enough you might see a man with a Hello Kitty handbag wearing black shiny trousers with beautiful sequins! It also seems that when away from home foreigners wear what they like too – we learnt this the other day after seeing a white man walk by the window wearing bright pink shorts, along with vest, Burberry shoes and flat cap – it made us chuckle, to say the least!

Traditional dress is a different matter – you can get any shalva and any saree you want. They come in a variety of colours and beautiful materials.

When it comes to food, everything is locally grown and reared. Imported foods are rare and very expensive so only eaten by rich people who can afford to go to the western style supermarkets. Everyone else shops at the market and local shops and stalls. Everyone eats what is in season and what is available (rice and curry lunch packets are always available everywhere).

Cricket – Legacy of the British. The national sport that everyone is obsessed with. It is on the tele at all times of the day and night. Children play it in the street. Cricket stadiums are very important places.

Fruit

Banana – Is eaten after every meal and comes in different colours and sizes – the most popular being the small, sweet banana. There are also green bananas and pink bananas. Branches of bananas hang from the ceiling and fill the windows of every fruit shop.

Brown Coconut – the no.1 coconut of Sri Lanka, used for:

· Frying - EVERYTHING is fried in coconut oil – even popcorn has a strange coconutty flavour.

· Food – No curry is complete without coconut milk, of which there are two types – 1^st milk and 2^nd milk. Discard the watery liquid in the middle (the stuff we would use). Scrape the flesh of the coconut out (there is a special tool to do this - an essential part of a Sri Lankan kitchen) and squeeze its juice into a bowl, add water and get your 1^st milk, squeeze the gratings a second time and get 2^nd milk, which is weaker. Other food that contains coconut is rotti, …

· Household items – Coconut hair can be used to wash dishes with and to make brooms, toilet brushes and string. Coconut shells are cut into serving spoons.

· Hair products – Coconut oil for moisture and shine.

· Cleaning product – left over coconut gratings are used to clean and polish the floor.

Jack Fruit – The flesh of the Jack Fruit is mango orange with a litchi texture - very sweet – ugly on the outside – delicious on the inside. Jack Fruit trees are very common. One fruit can grow so big that it sometimes looks too heavy for the branch – watch out when they fall! The flesh and stones of the Jack Fruit can be curried. Along with Jack Fruit you can curry just about anything – beetroot curry is very popular, leek curry, cabbage curry, brinjal (aubergine) curry, mango curry – curried everything!

Jambo Fruit – a small bell-shaped fruit which tastes like an apple but the flesh of which is softer…nice!

King Coconut – the king coconut (as pictured at the top of this blog) is one of the most popular for eating and drinking in its raw state. In our area, this is also the most common coconut tree, and you better watch out when these are falling too! You drink the juice and eat the flesh, which is translucent and slimy. It has a milder flavour than the brown coconut.

Palm Fruit – when it’s not ripe you can eat the jelly from inside with a spoon – the jelly is translucent and tastes of king coconut – when it’s ripe you can eat the white fleshy bit.

Wood Apple – so far have only had wood apple jam - a mixture of sweet and sour. Round and mouldy-looking on the outside - gooey on the inside. Very tasty!

Other fruits on the list to taste are: rambutan, mangoustine…

Health advice – some of the advice we have received since being here: Curry and rice for every meal every day makes for a healthy balanced diet (It is a great cause of worry to people if you say you just had soup for dinner.). Whatever sickness you’ve got, a Sri Lankan will always tell you to stay away from cool drinks and fruit while you are sick.

Health and Safety (or lack there-of)

Fire – Burn anything at any time. Burn your own rubbish if the council doesn’t pick it up.

Motor Bike helmets – Apart from the adults, for whom it is the law to wear a helmet, children ride freely, squashed in between parents or at the front, holding the handles and squinting against the breeze – babies and young children all go helmetless and beltless and seeing as it is rare to be able to afford a car, it is possible for a whole family of four to fit on a motorbike.

Seat Belts – who needs them??!

Sewers – Try not to fall in.

Imported goods – Cars, fridges, electrical goods are all imported. The duty on them makes them massively expensive. This turns what would be a brand new £10,000 car in the UK into a £35,000 over here. This accounts for the large amount of scooters, motorbikes, tuk-tuks, buses and push bikes on the road. Cars are only for the rich. A fridge can cost anything from £100 – £2,500. Considering that the average Sri Lankan wage is £50-£60/month, fridges are also usually for rich people.

Law and Order – While soldiers and police line many of the main roads, the law is mostly in the hands of the people.

Wildlife in the house

Geckos: Other than the cockroaches and ants that will come if you leave the slightest bit of dirt or sugary stuff around (a trail of ants will find any miss-laid or spilt sugariness, e.g. when my toothpaste arrived from the UK with a split in the bottom, the ants went for that. Essential tip: keep sugar, sweets, chewing gum, dried milk, lemsip – anything sweet – sealed in a zip-loc bag inside a plastic tub, and anything un-tubbable, like sweet chilli sauce or jam, in a dish-full of water (as noted above, fridges are for people with lots of money)), there is some wildlife that we like having around the house – the geckos J We have one adult gecko and several baby geckos – some are a dull green, some are brown and some have speckles. They come in the evening to hang on the wall and eat flies or to rummage in the bin. If you hear rustling in the bin, don’t be alarmed – it’s only a gecko!

Other wildlife: the chipmunks that live in the roof of the house opposite often come under the eaves of our house and run along the top of the wall to play. As there are now baby chipmunks this type of wildlife is also welcome :)

Snakes – are poisonous. If a snake comes in the house the recommendation is to spray kerosene at it (the smell is supposed to make them leave). If it doesn’t leave, I guess you have a bit of a problem! Miri and I started to discuss a snake emergency plan – we don’t have any kerosene – and then decided just to wait and see what happens at the time! As of yet, no snakes have ventured into our house :)

Unknown wildlife/The case of the mysterious paw prints: The other day, I noticed some footprints about a foot from the top of the wall and on further inspection noticed the same footprints on the other side of the room. At first we figured they must belong to the chipmunks, but looking at the chipmunks we realise that one of the footprints is about the size of a chipmunk’s head and that actually, chipmunks do not have padded feet. Our temporary conclusion is that this must be the paw prints of a cat that can walk horizontally along walls! For now the case remains open!

* Please note that this encyclopaedia is by no means extensive and may not be entirely accurate. These are just a few of my observations of the things you get used to after a while as well as the differences that make life as a foreigner in Sri Lanka so vivid and adventure-filled…Life for the average Sri Lankan is not wrapped up in cotton wool...