Sri Lanka Trip

January 1, 2011

Just back from Sri Lanka & I hope it was not a wasted journey. I went seeking a taste of India & Asia and some good family time together. I also longed for a fresh perspective and a rest from life in Kuwait. My mind is never far from my mission here and I had to get away to free up some mental space. I also longed to celebrate Christmas in a special way...on that account, we failed.

Soon after arrival I realized God had not given me the compassion and generosity of spirit for these people as he has in Q8. The press of people, the smells, the honking horns & furtive eyes that accompanied the outstretched hands provoked the same reaction in me as as the touch-me-not weed our guide pointed out in the ancient city of Polonnaruwa. I did not like this about myself: I wanted to fold in on myself and hide. Young men would grab our bags to heft into the van then expect a tip. Throughout the week I felt like a walking ATM required to crank out rupees for anything from snapping a photo to using a smelly hole in the ground marked "toilet." I hated being seen as the rich American and having people see us as only a potential source of cash. Everyone wanted to sell us something and many just wanted a gift; rupees, Ethan's water bottle, candy, markers, a pen??? This fear of getting taken advantage of spilled over into each relationship. I swung from gratitude for our host and travel agent (are we paying him enough?) to "Oh my gosh, we were so gullible to pay him this much without knowing what kind of rooms he will book for us...this is extortion!" My Western propensity for comfort, cleanliness, and convenience was stalking me at every stop as well.

I've digressed. We left Q8 on Sri Lanka Air via Dubai. The beautiful carmel skinned flight attendant welcomed us with hands together as in prayer. They wore exquisite saris with peacock feather designs. Our seats were the most spacious and comfortable we've ever had. The Indian food was good and the wine was complimentary. This was the last of "comfort, clean and convenience" we would see for a week! We arrived around 5am and had to adjust our watches by two and ONE HALF hours! This was our first experience with "offset time zones" and it was very strange. After an eternity of waiting, Steven (he must have Westernized his name for us!) met us with a nice van and we spilled onto the curb with the masses. Traffic inched along at a snail's pace as he drove with his horn on the "wrong side of the road," weaving between buses, 3 wheel "tuk tuks," motor bikes, and the occasional cow herd. We were told SL is "India lite" and I was grateful we were not arriving in Delhi as we had earlier discussed.

From the airport, we drove to Kandy; the city in the mountainous heart of the island. This journey was allegedly 2.5 hours but with the drenching rain and stops, it took most of the day. Before the rain started we enjoyed stunning green vistas with every imaginable fruit, veg, and flower growing along side tumbledown shacks, where men in skirts (sarongs) and western shirts lounged under coconut palms enjoying the Christmas holiday. While passing a pineapple garden our host taught us the source of this luscious fruit. Roadside stands lined our journey as did the soaring Buddha statues. The "highway" to Kandy was never more than a winding road thru village after village. The road was edged with women in vibrant saris, barefoot children, vendors and even a few elephants. We saw a lot of the county as we proceeded up to the hills, then back down the the beaches in the south. The north part of the island is still to be avoided as the war there has only recently ended.

Out first adventure was a stop at an elephant reserve. For $30 each (gasp) we got to ride around the village barebacked on these gentle giants. Feeling the powerful movement of their muscles under my legs as she ambled along terraced rice paddys in the dripping rain was wet but wonderful. The kids rode together and our guide chased along with th camera under an umbrella as the rain picked up. We were fairly soaked so the kids bit on the offer to ride their guy into the river for a bath. They were the ones who got showered as he scooped and dumped water on them "smiling" all the while! We had to ask if we could have some warm tea and everyone seemed to find us a bit odd (imagine that!) This was the first time I felt the lack of hospitality I'd expected.

Our bed & breakfast in Kandy was charming for about 20 minutes. Pink mosquito nets hung over each bed and from out balcony there was a stunning view of the village below and the surrounding hills. The soggy weather brought out armies of mosquitoes that no amount of DEET could keep away from Molly. Their appetite for her fairly guaranteed our safety when we were traveling together. Our rooms were reasonably clean but the nets around us stunk as did the towels that refused to dry. When we discovered Ethan's jeans would take 2 days to get cleaned & dried we realized that no one owned driers; the sun was supposed to do that service. When we asked for new towels, you would think we'd just asked for wireless internet...seems the "standard" here is every other day. I couldn't help but think of the waste in Q8 as we were "indulged" with clean towels. So much of this trip reminded me of my time in St. Lucia...the way bed sheets in the hospital were recycled by turning them over instead of changing them every day. We often wondered how clean our sheets where but we had to be brave and assume the best.

In spite of the heat, we were severely admonished to lock our doors & windows at night. The local monkeys are known to be aggressive and very naughty to unsuspecting tourists, so we obliged. Soon, we encountered the troublemakers but were taken in by their cuteness as the many photos we took confirm.

Day 2 was spent exploring Kandy. The rain paused while we strolled through the botanical gardens and enjoyed the exotic trees and flowers there. Besides monkeys, the enormous bats that swooped then hung upside down in trees above us were fascinating. Bamboo and spice trees like cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves spread canopies for couples walking hand in hand. Even this was charming after months in Q8. Eager to explore on our own, we asked Steven to take us away from touristy areas into the local market area. We were soon smothered by people and felt like fresh meat in a bread line. Everyone wanted to show us something and help us locate what we wanted. Browsing unnoticed was impossible and we quickly looked for an escape route. Retreating to a local restaurant (it's all we could find, not a single recognizable franchise was around) we tried to be optimistic about the standards of the food we were ordering. Based on the amount of time Emily & Ethan spent on the pot that night, I fear we should have stuck with the bread from the bake shop. While people around us were quickly served, we waited 45 minutes for our food. This was to be repeated on other occasions and we never understood why.

At an evening cultural dance show we ran into a group of teachers from Emily & Ethan's school. This seems to be a favorite destination for them. The dancers were impressive in their masks and costumes. Their gymnastics abilities set to the thrumming beat of the drums was quite a spectacle. An old man peddled Cokes in bottles with straws for 70 rupees (less than .70 cents.) When our driver stopped at a local market we got 5 water bottles for $1.25; we soon realized there were two prices for everything, a locals price and a tourist price.

On Christmas Eve we drove north 3 hours to Dambula, on to the ancient city of Polonnaruwa, and back to the Blinkbonnie Hotel. In addition to all the sights along the way, this was our time to explore Buddhist temples and gain some insight to it's influence on the culture, "not a religion but a way of life." While Christians, Muslims, Hindi and Buddhists live together in relative harmony, there were clearly many more Buddhist shrines than churches, mosques, & Hindi temples. Only once did we hear the call to prayer and see signs like "Muslim Hotel." Imposing Buddhas towered above simple villages as they sat in a pose of meditation or stood up with the trees in a stance of teaching. These statutes dwarfed everything around them by their size. At the Dambula Caves the Buddha Museum looked like an amusement park with life size figures of the orange toga clad monks lined up to pay homage. After the slippery ascent to the caves that housed the ancient Buddhas carved into the rock, we were rewarded with a bright old gentleman guide who spoke fluent English. He was happy to answer our questions on this mysterious way of life; perhaps it was the hope of a good tip but he earned it! As a devotee knelt with her face to the floor beside us, we asked "if this is not a religion, why do the followers pray to Buddha?" He dismissively said that was how less inteligent folks responded who are not able to connect through meditation, but this was a lower form of practicing Buddhism. He explained that there is a holiday every full moon when the devotees bring offerings of food and flowers to the temples. Not to be partial, they also take off for Christian holidays and many areas were adorned with scrawny Christmas trees and creepy masked Santas (we figured this was because Santa couldn't have a dark face!) To enter the sacred caves or temple we had to take off our shoes. Seeing the feet around me made me queesy to walk barefoot in these public places. We were not allowed to have a photo made in front of Buddha because our backs would then be to the statue. (There went another possible Christmas card shot!) This felt very weird to me when it all felt so contrived anyway. Psalm 135:13-18 in the Message put this in perspective:

"The gods of godless nations are mere trinkets,

made for quick sale in the markets:

chiseled mouths that can't talk,

painted eyes that can't see,

carved ears that can't hear--

Dead wood! Cold metal!

Those who make and trust them

become like them."

Indeed, everywhere we turned there were people peddling carvings of Buddha.

Polonnaruwa was a highlight for Robert & Emily but I struggle to remember any of the history we learned. It was the capitol city from where kings ruled the country 1000 years ago and the ruins were still in remarkedly good condition. The scenes of island life and the good food along the way were just as interesting to me. Emily was very intent on seeing a monitor, a Sri Lankan lizard of crocodile proportions.. Ever the accomodating guide, Steven pulled off the road when he saw some of them on the bank. A local boy was feeding the creepy creatures fish to show off their snapping mouthful of teeth. As their bellies were full, Ethan & Emily accepted the invitation to join him behind the monitors for a photo. As Molly was snapping the pics, 2 more crawled out of the water behind them so that they were surrounded by the meter long guys...priceless expressions on Emily's face as she tiptoed out of the dragons den!

Our best meal was at a rest house along the way where locals (including our driver) ate the hot stuff in the back and the tourists had milder versions at a buffet up front. This also meant we couldn't see them mixing & eating their food with their fingers which made us squeemish at times. Forks were always available to us but rarely used by the locals. The array of unnamed vegetables & delicious sauces were a treat. It included the usual fish, chicken & beef currys, rice, dahl (lentils) and the yummy fried pompodoms. We were laughing at some French tourists who'd ordered cheese sandwiches...then again, maybe they were not doubled over with diarhhea in their hotels?

I would have loved to attend a Christmas eve service but after driving us for 12 hours that day it seemed too much to ask of Steven to take us out again at midnight in the rain.Another steamy, somewhat sleepless night spent wishing I was at home and praying.... Before going to bed, Ethan pretended to be disappointed that there would be no Christmas tricks, then went off to bed leaving some of his things, including his shoes in our room. Next morning, he looked excited to see some wrapped "gifts" outside his door. He called Emily & asked permission to unwrap them...we all howled with laughter when he discovered mom had brought wrapping paper along and wrapped up his dirty boots and deoderant! Score! He had his trick after all. Emily thought it was a trick when her hot water shut off just after she got soaped up in the shower but I couldn't take the credit for that.

Leaving Kandy we were driven by Basil, a Catholic man of quiet dependability. A rosery swung from his mirror, a symbol of where his loyalties lay. He safely drove us over horrible construction clogged roads down steep mountain slopes with never an incident. After the constant crashes in Kuwait it was shocking to see NOT ONE accident all week. Our long day of travel was broken up by a stop at a tea plantation. The Brits are credited with bring tea to "Ceylon" when their coffee crop failed. It is now a major export. Our tea tour was most enlightening. All tea, from green to black and even "silver tips" come from the same plant; the difference is all in the processing. The fermentation is what distinguishes caffeine from non-caffenated tea which I never knew. The factory was fragrant with tea and clean but horribly hot in spots. The backbreaking work was carried out mostly by women. The heavy grinders and blowers looked antiquated. WE wondered what pitiful wages these women recieved for ther labors. The tea we sampled was nothing short of incredible.

By afternoon we were in Nuella Ella known as "little England." The influence of Colonial times was very evident here when a golf course, race track and a plantation style Western hotel spread across the hilltop. Gingerbread trim edged faded white homes whose grandeur was now slipping away. For a taste of "home," we decided to have fish and chips for one Christmas lunch at the hotel coffee shop. Stepping inside we breathed a sigh of relief: a glittering tree, nativity and Christmas music greeted us. It was not the ticky tacky decor that we'd seen other places but rich symbols of home. The veneer turned out to be deceptive: the service and the food felt a long way from London buit it was fun to pretend!

No place seemed far from the reach of poverty in spite of the lush production of food, tea, and even rubber. The roads passed inches from open doors and the sparce homes were only a notch above the squatter camps of South Africa if that. The plight of the working poor was impressed on us when we arrived at our overnight destination in Ella. We'd read about the herbal spa treatments here and decided to give the kids a memorable massage for Christmas. By this time all three of them were sick with some variation of respiratory & GI bugs. I'd bought over the counter amoxicillin for Ethan, anti itch meds and tummy meds for the girls and decongestant for all. The scene at the local pharmacy where no one had any medical training was rather comic as bystanders advised us on what we should be taking! Fortunately, the herbal spa treatment was good medicine for Emily & Ethan, clearing their chest and helping them get a great night of sleep...Molly was troubled by the smells & spells cast by the green massage oils rubbed into her scalp & body. Emily was sure they'd be cooked in the "Hanzel & Gretel" oven where only their heads poked out of a casket like chamber with a cooker underneath but they found it pleasant. The 3 towel draped teens inside the sauna with spices all over the floor and Christmas lights strung around the door was a sight to see!

Emily managed a conversation with her therapist though her English was sparse. She learned the lady was leaving Sri Lanka in 6 months to come work in Kuwait. Her desire was to send her kids to school and pay for their education. Dam's broke behind my eyes when I heard this and I wanted to plead with her NOT to come. "What to do?" as they say with bobbing heads. These ladies were so sweet with the kids and so good at what they did...yet it was not enough. We tipped them all heartily and gave the Q8 bound lady our contact info in case things don't go well for her. Later, at our hotel, the manager spoke good English; he told us he spent 10 years in Q8 and saw how maids were treated. We got him to call the lady and try to dissuade her but she was determined to come.

Our B & B in Ella had to be quickly re-booked when Basil discovered a scheduling error. Our place was very basic (a notch above camping) with a bed, net, & a crappy bathroom. In the breakfast room we met a couple of travelers; she was American, he a British doctor, both between jobs and traveling across Asia. They joined us for a game of Apples to Apples and we swapped stories for awhile. I love connecting with people like this along the way.

We arrived at the beach near Tangala on the south coast of S.L. on Boxing Day, Dec. 26: Exactly 6 years after the tsunami that claimed 90 lives in the village where we stayed. It was eerie to listen to the sea outside our cottage which was resting on stilts a meter off the ground. It was touching to hear some of the stories of the survivors; one lady invited us to her house as they were having a big meal for family who gathered to remember the loss of her 2 year old grandson to the water. Our waiter shuddered at the memory when we asked if he'd been there. Many places along the coast looked like they never bothered to rebuild. It was apparent how vulnerable the population was there and sadly, probably still are.

To our delight the skies were blue and rain was scant for the 3 days at the beach. We built a super sand castle one day and an awesome Buddha modeled after Robert on the next. People came to view our creations and we enjoyed the interaction with the few other tourists and locals who seemed amused by us! We swam in the warm water and Robert, Emily & Ethan body surfed in on the waves. Once we were "attacked" by a school of mini fish: 1 inch long clear and thin fish that we were peeling off the skin under our swimsuits when we went to shower! It felt like being in a sand storm except we were under water when they hit. This creeped Molly out and she would not get in the water after that.

We all enjoyed time to read, rest & observe life on the beach of a small fishing village. Watching the teamwork of neighbor men hauling in the nets full of fish or pushing a fishing boat off the beach into the water was serene. Their reward appeared to be a fresh fish from the day's catch for their dinner. One night we walked up the beach where we'd put in our order for dinner at an Italian cafe. With only the moon & starts to guide us, we picked our way along holding onto the person in front of us hoping if anyone stepped in cowpies it would be Robert and we would be warned in time! The beach was pretty clean except for these delicacies that dotted the sand. After an hours wait our pasta was delivered and it was exceptionally good (or we were starved by then!)

Our last night we stayed near the airport in Nugumbo. This was a more tourist oriented place with shopping and restaurants all in walking distance. The girls & I took a Tuk-Tuk to the main street where they found the saris they'd been looking for. Blond girls in saris is funny but sweet. I found some tops made there for Marks & Spencer in England. Our rooms were spacious and nice after we did battle against the mosquitoes waiting to suck our blood. We even had TV for the first time. One final breakfast of toast & eggs and we were happily on our way to the airport.

It was a long flight with time to chat with the lovely flight attendant who shared her perspective on the ladies from SL who come to the Gulf countries to work as maids. She assured me they do know the dangers they face but the economics at home demand the risk and sacrifice. I was so grieved as she told me they (Sri Lankan Airlines) carried back the bodies of THREE maids from Q8 over the past ONE month. What can I say? Such a gorgeous place it could be the Garden of Eden, poisoned by corruption, greed and politics.

God, don't let me shrink from the suffering I see, inspire my kids to make a difference on a scale I never even dreamed possible. Let justice roll on like a river, and don't let experiences like this leave us unchanged.