I was in my room today listening to my laptop on headphones, and Harith walked in and wanted a piece of the action. I gave him the earbuds and turned on the iTunes visualizer and let him have fun for a while. I'd been listening to Cirque de Soleil, which I figured he'd like. And he did. He was completely enthralled by the visualizer and he sat still for 15 minutes. If you've ever known a 5 year old boy, you know what kind of achievement this is. But I wanted my music back after a while.
I decided that rather than just kick him off the computer, I'd just play some music that he didn't like. He'd get bored and leave, and life would be good. And, being fairly well versed in all forms of heavy metal, I figured I had more than adequate resources at my disposal.
I'm not a mean person by nature, so I started out with "Eye of the Tiger." Logic suggested that while it's a great song, it doesn't have any trace of a Sri Lankan beat to it, so it probably wouldn't appeal to most people here. Harith liked it though, so it was time to move on to bigger and louder things.
I ended up going through Skid Row, Godhead, Disturbed and Megadeth, among others. No curse words, and I made sure that the volume was at a very safe level, but I've found that people who aren't used to metal just find it unpleasant. That was not the case here. He liked them all. What kind of unholy witchery is that?! I finally had to resort to just taking the earbuds back and escorting him out of my room.
The last few days have been really busy at the center, so I dropped off the face of the earth for a while. I have a stack of emails to read, and I'll get to them all eventually.
Friday morning I didn't do a whole lot of anything, other than answer a few emails. Then, Trish picked us up in a tri-shaw and we went to the grocery store to shop for dinner. The grocery store in Hambantota is fairly small, and it has mostly Sri Lankan food. I've never seen so much cardamom in one place. The international section not quite non-existent, and we found some pasta, a few jars of sauce, spices, and chicken breast. We also grabbed a few ice cream popsicles for the road.
Some of you might remember that I'm allergic to cold temperatures (yes, really). This does, in fact, include food. But it doesn't bother me enough that I avoid ice cream. So I was sitting in the tri-shaw eating my ice cream and my mouth started to swell. A lot. Suddenly I was in the ring with Angelina Jolie and Natalie Imbruglia. I felt like the victim of a collagen bee sting. I think this may be a new area of cosmetic research.
We drove to a few other stores to get some errands done, and then we went to David and Trish's house. They live fairly close to us, down a dirt road and behind a pond. They've lived in Australia for the last 30 years or so, but they both grew up in England and they retain a delightful Britishness about them. We went out to the veranda for drinks (and they use words like "veranda." I never get to use words like that. In the States, it's "deck" or "porch". But here, veranda. Wow.) and talked for a bit.
Then we started dinner, which was an adventure in itself. The house is a typically Sri Lankan house, with a typical Sri Lankan kitchen: 2 gas burners, a hearth for building fires, and a sink. And some counter space. Things were a bit cramped. We didn't even attempt to build a fire, and instead restricted ourselves to the stove. It ended up working out fine. Trish is a bit like one of my grandmothers - very practical and very tolerant. Meanwhile, David and Meg were throwing on the radio in the living room and continuing their conversation. David had managed to find a radio station with American music, so occasionally I'd hear some Dire Straits or Paul Simon.
Dinner itself was heavenly: pasta with red sauce and Italian seasoned chicken breast. I ate more meat in one meal than I normally do in a week. Most protein in the Sri Lankan diet comes from fish. I've tried really, really hard to like fish since I've been here, and I just can't do it. I wish I could. Sorry, mom and dad.
The radio was still playing in the middle of dinner, and as some of you have probably been expecting, Meg and I suddenly burst into laughter for seemingly no reason at all. I have never been so happy to hear Sledgehammer in my life.
We spent all of Saturday and Sunday helping the staff get the monthly reports filled out. They were due last night and this is the first time they're using a new report format, so things were taking longer than normal. I ended up staying late a few nights, and I have to say it felt really good. I think it's the CMU work ethic. I feel like I haven't been doing enough.
Saturday, classes at the center start at 9 or 9:30 in the morning, and they end around 12:30, I think. This meant that the center was quite crowded, both with kids and the extra staff that come in on the weekends. I try to find a quiet corner to do my work, and that day it was proving particularly difficult. I finally went into the main activity room, which happened to be empty. I sat down in a straddle on the floor and bent over my notebook, intending to work more on the IT curriculum. It's a weird position to be in, but I like to stretch occasionally, and it keeps me more awake.
This was successful for about 5 minutes. Then, the kids finished whatever activities they were doing and started coming into the main room, where they found me. I found out much later that there are maybe 2 gymnastics centers in all of Sri Lanka, so this might have accounted for the number of kids who came up and stood in a circle, just staring at me like I had 3 heads. Then, they started to try to imitate me.
Well. Here's a game I just can't pass up. I slid into a split. The kids tried their best. And more came over. I stood up and went through a few simple jumps. My class got bigger. And then M2 told me I was going to teach that day, and before I could protest, she had all the kids (all ages) in a circle facing me.
Suddenly I had 40 students. I did the only thing I could do. I taught gymnastics. Very simple stuff, nothing dangerous. Just jumps and leaps, and a few tricks for them to watch, but not imitate. Of course, the rest of the staff thought this was just great, and now I think there are pictures somewhere.
I also managed to rip up something in my shoulder during all of this. If you ever have to describe a muscle injury to a Sri Lankan, don't say you pulled a muscle. It doesn't make sense to most people. Say you tore it. Then they'll understand.
The kids left, and I scrambled for the IBUprofen that I keep stashed away for just such emergencies. Treatment for a torn muscle is a combination of pain killers and stretching. To adhere to the second half of this regimen, I was in a corner somewhere adopting all sorts of weird poses, when M2 caught sight of me...and my navel ring.
Now before you get all up in arms, I don't generally go around showing my stomach. I'm not that kind of person. But I had to stretch, and when I pulled my arms over my head, my stupid little t-shirt rose a bit too much. And I guess navel rings aren't all that common here. M2 thought this was the greatest thing ever, all the time saying she could never get one herself because it would hurt too much. Giggling ensued.
She had pulled me into a more private room to check out my jewelry, and then she said she really liked my "belly." Err? Come again? "Belly dancing." Ohhhh. But I don't belly dance. I've never had a lesson in my life. I wouldn't know the first thing about it. But she was not to be deterred, and she wanted me to teach her.
After my last little recital, I'd had a suspicion that an encore performance would be requested, so I'd made a CD of a bunch of American songs that I like to dance to, and I keep it on me at all times while at work. I grabbed that and I asked M2 where I could play it.
And now I have to leave to go meet Maaike.
To be continued...
Monday, June 26, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
B++
There was some stuff that went on at work that I'll get to in a minute, but the big story tonight is that my computer FINALLY dual boots into XP. It only took 3.5 weeks, an XP cd, 1 3 hour download, and 1 lost product key (many thanks to B. for his help in acquiring the necessary XP cd and getting the key again after the first went missing).
For those who care about these things, this is through boot camp. I wiped my XOM partition so I could do it "the right way." My version of boot camp has a very interesting quirk: if you partition your drive using disk utility, boot camp will recognize that there is a partition, but it will not let you install on it. So I had to unpartition the disk (read: back up everything onto my iPod), reinstall everything, reinstall boot camp, partition with boot camp, update my OS X installation, and then install windows. Sigh. But it works. It FINALLY works, and Star Craft and Heroes of Might and Magic III run beautifully. Life is goooood.
Back to work... Yesterday, we held a staff meeting to introduce the new monthly report format. I've never experienced a bilingual staff meeting before. It was a trip. I get the sense that not quite everything was translated for me, and the whole thing took 2 hours, but the bottom line is that the staff seemed happy, as did the administration. So I feel pretty good.
When I came home yesterday, Thushari and Malmi were curled up on one of the sofas looking absolutely miserable. It has been cool here (maybe 75 or 80), and it has rained the past few days. Apparently the change in temperature and pressure was enough to make Malmi's ears hurt to the point of tears, and both of them had headaches that laid them up all evening. They seemed much better today though.
Maaike has arranged to cook lunch for the staff members on Tuesday, and I'm helping. So I think buschetta, spaghetti (with red sauce!), and either Russian Creme or apple crisp. And lots of garlic. Everywhere. It's going to be great. Also, Trish invited Meg and me to her house tomorrow for dinner, so Trish and I will cook then. I don't know what we're doing. The plan is to go to the grocery store in the afternoon and figure it out there. This will also give me the opportunity to get bleach for my shirts. I'm so excited to cook again after so long. I hope I remember how.
Next week is my last week at the center, and I'm really sad to leave. I feel like I was just getting to know the staff and make friends, and now I have to start all over again. They're great people, and they seemed to tolerate me well enough. I'll miss them a lot. In the beginning, I was really excited to be working at 2 places. I felt it would keep me interested in work and prevent me from getting into too much of a routine. I still think this, but I'm less excited to leave Hambantota than I was. I'm just now starting to figure out how to live here, and I think people have finally gotten used to seeing me around town.
For those who care about these things, this is through boot camp. I wiped my XOM partition so I could do it "the right way." My version of boot camp has a very interesting quirk: if you partition your drive using disk utility, boot camp will recognize that there is a partition, but it will not let you install on it. So I had to unpartition the disk (read: back up everything onto my iPod), reinstall everything, reinstall boot camp, partition with boot camp, update my OS X installation, and then install windows. Sigh. But it works. It FINALLY works, and Star Craft and Heroes of Might and Magic III run beautifully. Life is goooood.
Back to work... Yesterday, we held a staff meeting to introduce the new monthly report format. I've never experienced a bilingual staff meeting before. It was a trip. I get the sense that not quite everything was translated for me, and the whole thing took 2 hours, but the bottom line is that the staff seemed happy, as did the administration. So I feel pretty good.
When I came home yesterday, Thushari and Malmi were curled up on one of the sofas looking absolutely miserable. It has been cool here (maybe 75 or 80), and it has rained the past few days. Apparently the change in temperature and pressure was enough to make Malmi's ears hurt to the point of tears, and both of them had headaches that laid them up all evening. They seemed much better today though.
Maaike has arranged to cook lunch for the staff members on Tuesday, and I'm helping. So I think buschetta, spaghetti (with red sauce!), and either Russian Creme or apple crisp. And lots of garlic. Everywhere. It's going to be great. Also, Trish invited Meg and me to her house tomorrow for dinner, so Trish and I will cook then. I don't know what we're doing. The plan is to go to the grocery store in the afternoon and figure it out there. This will also give me the opportunity to get bleach for my shirts. I'm so excited to cook again after so long. I hope I remember how.
Next week is my last week at the center, and I'm really sad to leave. I feel like I was just getting to know the staff and make friends, and now I have to start all over again. They're great people, and they seemed to tolerate me well enough. I'll miss them a lot. In the beginning, I was really excited to be working at 2 places. I felt it would keep me interested in work and prevent me from getting into too much of a routine. I still think this, but I'm less excited to leave Hambantota than I was. I'm just now starting to figure out how to live here, and I think people have finally gotten used to seeing me around town.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Mrs. Who?!
My previous work experience includes several jobs that put me in close contact with many young children, so I had some relevant experience upon arrival at the center. Yesterday I confirmed a long held suspicion that kids will be kids, and they love nothing more than to imagine the soap opera lives of the adults who work with them.
I was standing in the computer room watching the children use the computers. One of my tasks is to help develop an IT curriculum for the center, so that children learn relevant skills that will help them get jobs. This is a hard problem to begin with, and it's made more difficult by the fact that the center only has 5 computers, and at any given time there are probably 15 or 20 students trying to use them all at once. So the curriculum needs to address the fact that even though not all of the kids can use computers at the same time, they all have to learn the material. Hence my time spent yesterday, watching the kids and trying to figure out how they split up the computer time.
There were 2 extra places to sit: a stack of plastic chairs, and a desk chair on castors. B. was sitting on the plastic chairs (it's his class) and I was standing, unsure of the protocol of taking a seat in a class that wasn't mine. B. invited me to sit, so I sat down in the desk chair for a few minutes until I was called away to do something else.
Upon my return, 3 or 4 young girls were clustered around the desk chair, saying that it belonged to B. There was a lot of smiling and giggling going on. I was immediately suspicious, the way I think most people are when they see a group of girls with a secret, but I also wasn't sitting in the chair. I told them that it was just fine, I'd stand, B. could keep his chair, and life would be good. This didn't seem to be the correct response, as they kept on telling me about this chair (and they called me "pimple face" in Sinhala...I don't know where that came from). So the chair. The legendary, mystical chair. The talking wouldn't stop. And gradually I realized that they weren't saying it was B.'s chair, but Mrs. B.'s chair, and the implication was that I was Mrs. B. I had a near heart attack imagining the ramifications of having those sorts of rumors flying around the office. Here I am, trying so hard to resprect cultural mores and the end result is that I'm the latest gossip, and probably in trouble.
I spent a good hour inwardly terrified of the consequences until I noticed that none of the other staff seemed to care. To them, it was a funny joke. I took a moment to think back to my days as a gymnastics coach, and things started to fall into place. Kids in the States do this all the time. They enjoy nothing more than to make up love affairs and tease the staff about them. It seems that kids here do the same. I was just so nervous about making a mistake that I didn't notice.
The other really interesting part of yesterday was the arrival of David and Trish, an older Australian couple who have spent their lives working with NGOs all over the world to manage rebuilding projects. They were in Africa during a coup, in India, 62 other countries that didn't get enumerated. It seems they want to help the center, which is great. They're here indefinitely.
I really envy David and Trish their travel experience. They seem completely at home with culture shock. They're a lot less uptight than I am. They've also been to Sri Lanka before, so that certainly helps.
I was standing in the computer room watching the children use the computers. One of my tasks is to help develop an IT curriculum for the center, so that children learn relevant skills that will help them get jobs. This is a hard problem to begin with, and it's made more difficult by the fact that the center only has 5 computers, and at any given time there are probably 15 or 20 students trying to use them all at once. So the curriculum needs to address the fact that even though not all of the kids can use computers at the same time, they all have to learn the material. Hence my time spent yesterday, watching the kids and trying to figure out how they split up the computer time.
There were 2 extra places to sit: a stack of plastic chairs, and a desk chair on castors. B. was sitting on the plastic chairs (it's his class) and I was standing, unsure of the protocol of taking a seat in a class that wasn't mine. B. invited me to sit, so I sat down in the desk chair for a few minutes until I was called away to do something else.
Upon my return, 3 or 4 young girls were clustered around the desk chair, saying that it belonged to B. There was a lot of smiling and giggling going on. I was immediately suspicious, the way I think most people are when they see a group of girls with a secret, but I also wasn't sitting in the chair. I told them that it was just fine, I'd stand, B. could keep his chair, and life would be good. This didn't seem to be the correct response, as they kept on telling me about this chair (and they called me "pimple face" in Sinhala...I don't know where that came from). So the chair. The legendary, mystical chair. The talking wouldn't stop. And gradually I realized that they weren't saying it was B.'s chair, but Mrs. B.'s chair, and the implication was that I was Mrs. B. I had a near heart attack imagining the ramifications of having those sorts of rumors flying around the office. Here I am, trying so hard to resprect cultural mores and the end result is that I'm the latest gossip, and probably in trouble.
I spent a good hour inwardly terrified of the consequences until I noticed that none of the other staff seemed to care. To them, it was a funny joke. I took a moment to think back to my days as a gymnastics coach, and things started to fall into place. Kids in the States do this all the time. They enjoy nothing more than to make up love affairs and tease the staff about them. It seems that kids here do the same. I was just so nervous about making a mistake that I didn't notice.
The other really interesting part of yesterday was the arrival of David and Trish, an older Australian couple who have spent their lives working with NGOs all over the world to manage rebuilding projects. They were in Africa during a coup, in India, 62 other countries that didn't get enumerated. It seems they want to help the center, which is great. They're here indefinitely.
I really envy David and Trish their travel experience. They seem completely at home with culture shock. They're a lot less uptight than I am. They've also been to Sri Lanka before, so that certainly helps.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
You Might Have Mentioned...
There are two long posts in very quick succession, and I blame this stupid software update. I was about 2/3 done downloading on Friday when we lost power and I wasn't able to get my post up in time. So today, I posted Friday's entry, and now I'm writing this one.
Yesterday was a big day for us at the center. We ran the final network cable, connecting the office computer to the rest. So now we can print from any computer in the center. I know this is not a big deal for most of my readers, but here it's huge. We're quite happy.
Overall it was a fairly weird day. I've taken to doing most of my work in one of the smaller, less used rooms of the center. The office gets crowded very quickly and there isn't much desk space, so I take my notebook and retreat to the psycho-social room down the hall (it has couches). I was there yesterday, trying to develop an IT curriculum for the young'uns (5-10 yrs) when Meg came tearing down the hall with a big grin on her face. She told me that she'd found out that B. is 20, and this means she has a younger brother (if you don't know Meg, this makes no sense and I'm not going to try to explain). I was skeptical. B. doesn't look old, maybe 25 or 27, but he certainly doesn't look 20. And if my Indian friends are any sort of guide, then he's probably older than he looks. Also, the office has taken to playing jokes on us.
So I told Meg that I was pretty sure she was wrong. In an effort to confirm her guess, she dragged B. back to me and asked him his age (apparently this is not impolite). "31." !? Whaaaa...? This guy is 31, and he has to sit and take lessons from 2 college girls? I have nothing but pity for him. He's been a great sport throughout, but I can't imagine he's got infinite patience for us.
To be fair, he doesn't act the way I would expect someone in his 30's to act. I don't know too many people of that age, but I know plenty of people who are mid-late 20's, and they act like B. So my guess was not totally unreasonable.
I have no idea how old B. thought we were. He asked me my age (like I said, apparently not impolite) and when I told him, his eyes bulged and he started laughing. I guess we look old here.
For the past 2 weeks or so, we've had about 16 guest counselors at the center. They're all about my age (I think...) and they do a lot of group activities with the kids. Games, sports, discussion...and dancing. There is a lot of dancing. Free form, rehearsed, with masks... It's really neat, and the children have a lot of fun. The conselors are also fairly good dancers, so when these dancing sessions occur, many of the staff will come out to watch, myself included.
Yesterday, after the age thing was sorted out, I was watching the dancing. I went to get lunch, and B. asked me if I liked to dance. I said that I did, but that I'm not good at it. I stressed that second point heavily. Well, after lunch, I was rushed by about 8 kids who all put in concerted efforts to drag me onto the dance floor. They were being encouraged by the guest counselors. I resisted mightily, but to no avail. So I eventually got dragged onto the floor, and the kids and counselors said they wanted to see me dance. I was almost ok with the idea of dancing with everyone else, in a group. But the music started and all the kids and counselors stayed seated against the wall. So they wanted me to dance. Alone. In front of them. Oh.
I didn't really have much choice. So I danced. Alone, in front of everyone. I think I'll try to avoid it in the future.
After a few minutes of dancing, I'd had about enough so I stopped. And then all the staff members, who'd just gotten the memo that the klutzy american girl was bustin' a move, ran out of their offices. There was a lot of encouragement for me to keep dancing. Nothin' doin' there, other than a few accusatory remarks directed towards B. about his involvement in the Hallie Dancing Conspiracy (he's denying everything and pretending he doesn't understand my English. riiiiiiight).
This Morning, or, Sri Lanka Health Education Needs Work
For the last week, I've seen Thushari performing tick checks on Malmi. I didn't think much of it, other than, "I didn't know there were ticks here."
This morning, as I was getting ready for work, Meg tramped into my room and ordered me to grab a comb and sit down. Apparently those tick checks were really lice removal expeditions. Not "checks", mind you, but actual efforts to eradicate organisms from Malmi's hair. Malmi and Harith both spend a fair amount of time in our room on our beds playing with the computers. And Thushari hadn't seen fit to mention that maybe we should be careful. It sounds like the myths about lice here are that they're not contagious, adults can't get them, and even if you are infected, don't worry about your clothes. The muttering that went on this morning... you can't imagine.
So Meg and I sat down to do lice checks. She found one on my head (f$%#&*@), as well as a few nits. I didn't find anything on her, but neither of us were really convinced that this meant anything. So we went to go find Thushari.
Meg had mentioned that the word "lice" doesn't really play a big role in the Sri Lankan English vocabulary, so we felt it would be necessary to present physical evidence of what we were talking about.
When we were doing the lice checks, we were faced with the problem of how to dispose of the critters without making the problem worse. Neither of us had any tape, but I mentioned that I had used the sticky side of Maxi Pads on ants with great success, and I had Maxi Pads in abundance.
Now I want you, the reader, to use your best imaginative skills to picture the following: Meg and I, in a part of the world where American girls are considered whores for using tampons, approach our... parent, for lack of a better word, with a Maxi Pad full of lice. Just think about it. The significance will hit you eventually.
Well. Party time. Thushari, fortunately, had some lice shampoo. Meg and I doused ourselves in some of the foulest smelling stuff since the Neutrogena T-Gel mess. Then we set about boiling our clothes.
And then I appreciated the full significance of the lack of water heater. Unfortunately, it wasn't until after both of my (white and eggshell) dress shirts got tie-dyed red. None of Thushari's clothes had ever been washed in hot water, and this included the threadbare red towel that bled all over my stuff. Tomorrow begins the Great Bleaching Project, with a possible encore supplied by the Dye The Damn Things Pink endeavor. And, because I'm trying to be courteous, this all has to be done without me swearing like a sailor.
Speaking of laundry. I cannot get my clothes clean. We have a washing machine, and I think the stains come out (I haven't had any to really test on), but my shirts in particular don't smell clean. I stress the smell. I really hope they have Febreze here.
The rest of the lice story is fairly boring. I called Ashan this morning to ask him to somehow find a lice comb. He's in the States right now, so I have no idea what time it was there (Ashan, I'm really sorry. Really). He told us that in a rural area like Hambantota, there's no stigma attached to getting lice, the way there is in the States. Good. After we washed the shampoo out of our hair, we went to work for a half day. We'll do some more checking over the next few days, because neither of us believe we've really solved the problem. Thushari said that many parents of lice-infected children won't actually do anything, so I can't image that Malmi won't be reinfected. School starts tomorrow, which will probably exacerbate the problem. <
Attn: Ex-HoTties
It is really amazing how easy it is to adopt a "hands-off" attitude when you don't have sufficient bandwidth to making checking the abtech inbox worthwhile. Amazing. I highly recommend it for all future Lame Ducks. Pure bliss.
Random
While I was at the Colombo airport waiting to be picked up, a couple of young kids started talking to me. They would ask me my name, and when I'd tell them, they'd run away laughing. That was the first time that I worried that my name met something in Sinhala. I didn't think any more of it until yesterday at work, when I got a new nickname: hali gemba. Or something close. It translates to "big frog." Hallie is "big". I don't know where the frog part came from. But now, I'm "Big Frog." I'm not too broken up about this. I like frogs. Even the biggest frogs are still small. And this nick name was derived from my name. I don't think it would have been created otherwise. Meg, on the other hand, is now "Elephant" and it has nothing to do with what her name sounds like. Nudge nudge wink wink say no more.
Yesterday was a big day for us at the center. We ran the final network cable, connecting the office computer to the rest. So now we can print from any computer in the center. I know this is not a big deal for most of my readers, but here it's huge. We're quite happy.
Overall it was a fairly weird day. I've taken to doing most of my work in one of the smaller, less used rooms of the center. The office gets crowded very quickly and there isn't much desk space, so I take my notebook and retreat to the psycho-social room down the hall (it has couches). I was there yesterday, trying to develop an IT curriculum for the young'uns (5-10 yrs) when Meg came tearing down the hall with a big grin on her face. She told me that she'd found out that B. is 20, and this means she has a younger brother (if you don't know Meg, this makes no sense and I'm not going to try to explain). I was skeptical. B. doesn't look old, maybe 25 or 27, but he certainly doesn't look 20. And if my Indian friends are any sort of guide, then he's probably older than he looks. Also, the office has taken to playing jokes on us.
So I told Meg that I was pretty sure she was wrong. In an effort to confirm her guess, she dragged B. back to me and asked him his age (apparently this is not impolite). "31." !? Whaaaa...? This guy is 31, and he has to sit and take lessons from 2 college girls? I have nothing but pity for him. He's been a great sport throughout, but I can't imagine he's got infinite patience for us.
To be fair, he doesn't act the way I would expect someone in his 30's to act. I don't know too many people of that age, but I know plenty of people who are mid-late 20's, and they act like B. So my guess was not totally unreasonable.
I have no idea how old B. thought we were. He asked me my age (like I said, apparently not impolite) and when I told him, his eyes bulged and he started laughing. I guess we look old here.
For the past 2 weeks or so, we've had about 16 guest counselors at the center. They're all about my age (I think...) and they do a lot of group activities with the kids. Games, sports, discussion...and dancing. There is a lot of dancing. Free form, rehearsed, with masks... It's really neat, and the children have a lot of fun. The conselors are also fairly good dancers, so when these dancing sessions occur, many of the staff will come out to watch, myself included.
Yesterday, after the age thing was sorted out, I was watching the dancing. I went to get lunch, and B. asked me if I liked to dance. I said that I did, but that I'm not good at it. I stressed that second point heavily. Well, after lunch, I was rushed by about 8 kids who all put in concerted efforts to drag me onto the dance floor. They were being encouraged by the guest counselors. I resisted mightily, but to no avail. So I eventually got dragged onto the floor, and the kids and counselors said they wanted to see me dance. I was almost ok with the idea of dancing with everyone else, in a group. But the music started and all the kids and counselors stayed seated against the wall. So they wanted me to dance. Alone. In front of them. Oh.
I didn't really have much choice. So I danced. Alone, in front of everyone. I think I'll try to avoid it in the future.
After a few minutes of dancing, I'd had about enough so I stopped. And then all the staff members, who'd just gotten the memo that the klutzy american girl was bustin' a move, ran out of their offices. There was a lot of encouragement for me to keep dancing. Nothin' doin' there, other than a few accusatory remarks directed towards B. about his involvement in the Hallie Dancing Conspiracy (he's denying everything and pretending he doesn't understand my English. riiiiiiight).
This Morning, or, Sri Lanka Health Education Needs Work
For the last week, I've seen Thushari performing tick checks on Malmi. I didn't think much of it, other than, "I didn't know there were ticks here."
This morning, as I was getting ready for work, Meg tramped into my room and ordered me to grab a comb and sit down. Apparently those tick checks were really lice removal expeditions. Not "checks", mind you, but actual efforts to eradicate organisms from Malmi's hair. Malmi and Harith both spend a fair amount of time in our room on our beds playing with the computers. And Thushari hadn't seen fit to mention that maybe we should be careful. It sounds like the myths about lice here are that they're not contagious, adults can't get them, and even if you are infected, don't worry about your clothes. The muttering that went on this morning... you can't imagine.
So Meg and I sat down to do lice checks. She found one on my head (f$%#&*@), as well as a few nits. I didn't find anything on her, but neither of us were really convinced that this meant anything. So we went to go find Thushari.
Meg had mentioned that the word "lice" doesn't really play a big role in the Sri Lankan English vocabulary, so we felt it would be necessary to present physical evidence of what we were talking about.
When we were doing the lice checks, we were faced with the problem of how to dispose of the critters without making the problem worse. Neither of us had any tape, but I mentioned that I had used the sticky side of Maxi Pads on ants with great success, and I had Maxi Pads in abundance.
Now I want you, the reader, to use your best imaginative skills to picture the following: Meg and I, in a part of the world where American girls are considered whores for using tampons, approach our... parent, for lack of a better word, with a Maxi Pad full of lice. Just think about it. The significance will hit you eventually.
Well. Party time. Thushari, fortunately, had some lice shampoo. Meg and I doused ourselves in some of the foulest smelling stuff since the Neutrogena T-Gel mess. Then we set about boiling our clothes.
And then I appreciated the full significance of the lack of water heater. Unfortunately, it wasn't until after both of my (white and eggshell) dress shirts got tie-dyed red. None of Thushari's clothes had ever been washed in hot water, and this included the threadbare red towel that bled all over my stuff. Tomorrow begins the Great Bleaching Project, with a possible encore supplied by the Dye The Damn Things Pink endeavor. And, because I'm trying to be courteous, this all has to be done without me swearing like a sailor.
Speaking of laundry. I cannot get my clothes clean. We have a washing machine, and I think the stains come out (I haven't had any to really test on), but my shirts in particular don't smell clean. I stress the smell. I really hope they have Febreze here.
The rest of the lice story is fairly boring. I called Ashan this morning to ask him to somehow find a lice comb. He's in the States right now, so I have no idea what time it was there (Ashan, I'm really sorry. Really). He told us that in a rural area like Hambantota, there's no stigma attached to getting lice, the way there is in the States. Good. After we washed the shampoo out of our hair, we went to work for a half day. We'll do some more checking over the next few days, because neither of us believe we've really solved the problem. Thushari said that many parents of lice-infected children won't actually do anything, so I can't image that Malmi won't be reinfected. School starts tomorrow, which will probably exacerbate the problem. <
Attn: Ex-HoTties
It is really amazing how easy it is to adopt a "hands-off" attitude when you don't have sufficient bandwidth to making checking the abtech inbox worthwhile. Amazing. I highly recommend it for all future Lame Ducks. Pure bliss.
Random
While I was at the Colombo airport waiting to be picked up, a couple of young kids started talking to me. They would ask me my name, and when I'd tell them, they'd run away laughing. That was the first time that I worried that my name met something in Sinhala. I didn't think any more of it until yesterday at work, when I got a new nickname: hali gemba. Or something close. It translates to "big frog." Hallie is "big". I don't know where the frog part came from. But now, I'm "Big Frog." I'm not too broken up about this. I like frogs. Even the biggest frogs are still small. And this nick name was derived from my name. I don't think it would have been created otherwise. Meg, on the other hand, is now "Elephant" and it has nothing to do with what her name sounds like. Nudge nudge wink wink say no more.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Don't Panic
Dear the authors of the Rough Guide to Sri Lanka,
Please take your paranoid, xenophobic tendencies somewhere else, and stop using them to publish books. You're scaring the rest of us needlessly. If you really can't deal with the food, the accomodations, the people, the bugs, the heat, the humidity, the public transportation, or the stores, then JUST STAY HOME.
That is all.
-Hallie
This entry is really long because I have a 3 hour download to sit through. Sorry.
I bought 2 guide books in preparation for this trip: Lonely Planet and Rough Guide. I like using multiple sources and the most recent Lonely Planet was written before the tsunami, whereas the Rough Guide was published a few months after it hit. I'm living in areas that were very badly affected by the tsunami, so I felt it important to do some targeted research.
The Rough Guide authors have a very frank voice. Optimistically, they really want to be thorough about preparing travellers for all eventualaties, and they realize that the Sri Lanka life style is much different from those of their target audience. But the book lacks balance, and the warnings of crowds, bumpy roads, and scams far outnumber the good points. This, combined with my experiences of being a white female in Sri Lanka, made me more than a bit wary of trying to get anywhere beyond walking distance. So I spent a lot of time cooped up in the house, and finally I just couldn't take it any more.
This morning, Meg and I decided to brave the bus system so that we could get to Ambalantota, a near by town about 15 minutes away. The Rough Guide had few kind words about the buses, but really they're quite handy. The rates are extremely cheap ($.30/per person round trip) and as long as you're going to a town, it's pretty easy. There aren't many roads, so generally you get on the first bus you see that is going the way you are. A conductor will find you and take your money in exchange for a ticket, and they'll always have change, unlike the three wheelers that run around. The buses can be very crowded, but they'll get you where you want to go.
We walked through Ambalantota to the computer store where we picked up a flash drive, some blank CDs, and a power strip. Then we walked back through down, stopping in a few shops, and caught the bus home. No big deal, and now I feel a lot more confident about trying to travel further to some of the historic sights around. So maybe on Monday I'll be a bit more adventurous. So the moral of the story is that the Rough Guide people are wimps.
One of the really frustrating things about Sri Lanka is that although the heat is sweltering, there are very few places to get cold drinks. Most of the time, the bottles are room temp. No one seems to own ice trays either. I don't know why. Maybe they just don't like cold things. It's a pity. I've been craving a Thai iced tea ever since I got here, and even if I can find the tea, I don't know what I'm going to do about the ice.
Tangentially (Tim, if you're reading this, stop saying that word because it rubs off on the rest of us).... I haven't been able to find Thai tea in the States. The restaurants must get it from somewhere, but the biggest supermarkets don't seem to carry it. If you know where to get some, please tell me.
The frogs in the shower have gotten a bit voyeuristic lately. In particular, one of them likes to hang out on the shower knob at night, so when I go to shower, we have a bit of a negotiation. The frogs are very cute, but they're not doing a whole lot to reduce the mosquito population. And the lizards really need to get cracking on this fly issue. Clearly, they're not eating enough.
One of my coworkers, B., decided to start copying some DVDs for me, which is great. Meg and I have gotten into the habit of watching them when we get homesick. Trouble is, I wasn't able to get any blank DVDs today to return the favor. Yesterday, however, I brought in my USB game controller, and I showed it to B. in conjunction with my Street Fighter Alpha 3 ROM. I've never seen someone's eyes light up like that before. So then the whole office was playing Street Fighter and getting a kick out of it. I think that the way I'll repay B. is by downloading a few emulators and a bunch of roms so that he can play after I leave. The roms themselves are platform independent, and it's easy to find PC emulators. So now all that remains is the controller. I may have to ship one when I get home. I don't know where I would find it here.
Everything else is cheap, but hardware is jaw droppingly expensive. It all has to be imported, and there isn't much of a market beyond the business sector. People here have never seen Apples before. The IT guy at the e-learning center thought I was running Vista, and I don't think he ever really understood that it wasn't Windows. B. asked me if it was OS/2. How someone might hear about OS/2 and not OSX is somewhat puzzling to me, but hey...
I finally got to do some yoga last night. I used one of the upstairs rooms in the house. Yoga has never seemed that strenuous, but it takes on a whole new dimension in 85 degree heat and humidity. I imagine this is what bikram is like. It's...different. And concentration is very hard when you're carefully balanced on one leg and you have to keep swatting mosquitos. So this morning I woke up and was all sore. I didn't even do the full routine. I was supposed to do everything twice, and I only did it once. Tonight I'll try again.
The IT guy here just called us all in to a room where we had a video conference with a class of kids in Kandy. Full (if very compressed) video and full sound. It was really neat. They sang and danced and we watched. The internet connection is flaky here, so we kept getting disconnected, but overall it worked very well.
Please take your paranoid, xenophobic tendencies somewhere else, and stop using them to publish books. You're scaring the rest of us needlessly. If you really can't deal with the food, the accomodations, the people, the bugs, the heat, the humidity, the public transportation, or the stores, then JUST STAY HOME.
That is all.
-Hallie
This entry is really long because I have a 3 hour download to sit through. Sorry.
I bought 2 guide books in preparation for this trip: Lonely Planet and Rough Guide. I like using multiple sources and the most recent Lonely Planet was written before the tsunami, whereas the Rough Guide was published a few months after it hit. I'm living in areas that were very badly affected by the tsunami, so I felt it important to do some targeted research.
The Rough Guide authors have a very frank voice. Optimistically, they really want to be thorough about preparing travellers for all eventualaties, and they realize that the Sri Lanka life style is much different from those of their target audience. But the book lacks balance, and the warnings of crowds, bumpy roads, and scams far outnumber the good points. This, combined with my experiences of being a white female in Sri Lanka, made me more than a bit wary of trying to get anywhere beyond walking distance. So I spent a lot of time cooped up in the house, and finally I just couldn't take it any more.
This morning, Meg and I decided to brave the bus system so that we could get to Ambalantota, a near by town about 15 minutes away. The Rough Guide had few kind words about the buses, but really they're quite handy. The rates are extremely cheap ($.30/per person round trip) and as long as you're going to a town, it's pretty easy. There aren't many roads, so generally you get on the first bus you see that is going the way you are. A conductor will find you and take your money in exchange for a ticket, and they'll always have change, unlike the three wheelers that run around. The buses can be very crowded, but they'll get you where you want to go.
We walked through Ambalantota to the computer store where we picked up a flash drive, some blank CDs, and a power strip. Then we walked back through down, stopping in a few shops, and caught the bus home. No big deal, and now I feel a lot more confident about trying to travel further to some of the historic sights around. So maybe on Monday I'll be a bit more adventurous. So the moral of the story is that the Rough Guide people are wimps.
One of the really frustrating things about Sri Lanka is that although the heat is sweltering, there are very few places to get cold drinks. Most of the time, the bottles are room temp. No one seems to own ice trays either. I don't know why. Maybe they just don't like cold things. It's a pity. I've been craving a Thai iced tea ever since I got here, and even if I can find the tea, I don't know what I'm going to do about the ice.
Tangentially (Tim, if you're reading this, stop saying that word because it rubs off on the rest of us).... I haven't been able to find Thai tea in the States. The restaurants must get it from somewhere, but the biggest supermarkets don't seem to carry it. If you know where to get some, please tell me.
The frogs in the shower have gotten a bit voyeuristic lately. In particular, one of them likes to hang out on the shower knob at night, so when I go to shower, we have a bit of a negotiation. The frogs are very cute, but they're not doing a whole lot to reduce the mosquito population. And the lizards really need to get cracking on this fly issue. Clearly, they're not eating enough.
One of my coworkers, B., decided to start copying some DVDs for me, which is great. Meg and I have gotten into the habit of watching them when we get homesick. Trouble is, I wasn't able to get any blank DVDs today to return the favor. Yesterday, however, I brought in my USB game controller, and I showed it to B. in conjunction with my Street Fighter Alpha 3 ROM. I've never seen someone's eyes light up like that before. So then the whole office was playing Street Fighter and getting a kick out of it. I think that the way I'll repay B. is by downloading a few emulators and a bunch of roms so that he can play after I leave. The roms themselves are platform independent, and it's easy to find PC emulators. So now all that remains is the controller. I may have to ship one when I get home. I don't know where I would find it here.
Everything else is cheap, but hardware is jaw droppingly expensive. It all has to be imported, and there isn't much of a market beyond the business sector. People here have never seen Apples before. The IT guy at the e-learning center thought I was running Vista, and I don't think he ever really understood that it wasn't Windows. B. asked me if it was OS/2. How someone might hear about OS/2 and not OSX is somewhat puzzling to me, but hey...
I finally got to do some yoga last night. I used one of the upstairs rooms in the house. Yoga has never seemed that strenuous, but it takes on a whole new dimension in 85 degree heat and humidity. I imagine this is what bikram is like. It's...different. And concentration is very hard when you're carefully balanced on one leg and you have to keep swatting mosquitos. So this morning I woke up and was all sore. I didn't even do the full routine. I was supposed to do everything twice, and I only did it once. Tonight I'll try again.
The IT guy here just called us all in to a room where we had a video conference with a class of kids in Kandy. Full (if very compressed) video and full sound. It was really neat. They sang and danced and we watched. The internet connection is flaky here, so we kept getting disconnected, but overall it worked very well.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
More Past Posts and the Perahera
Wednesday
Joe showed up yesterday around 1, and the man is a giant. I didn't notice it when I arrived, but Sri Lankans are generally shorter than Americans by about 6 inches or so. At 6'2", Joe towers over everyone here. Even I am fairly tall among my colleagues.
First on the agenda was lunch, followed by a presentation of the scope of work, and then a field trip. We saw wild elephants (!) at a landfill. They're surrounded by green plants, and yet they dig through the trash to find food. There were 5 of them. I have good photos, and I'll show them off when I get back. We stopped by the beach afterwards, and Meg got drenched by a wave. She went home to change, only to find that everyone had left. Neither Meg nor I has keys to the house. Joe lent her a t-shirt, but she spent dinner in wet, salty clothes.
We had dinner at Joe's hotel. It was about 7 courses for 900 Rupees, which is about $9.00. Incredibly cheap for us, although in Sri Lanka, you can get a meal for about $1.00, so this is very expensive for them.
Joe stayed at his hotel while the rest of us went to Thushari's house. Meg and I thought we were being dropped off, but A. told us that the custom here is to stop in and say hi for a few minutes. Thushari and her mom were both still up, so w. and A. talked with them in a torrent of Sinhala while Meg and I listened.
Saturday
Yesterday was a day off, so Meg and I spent some time on the beach and just relaxed in general. The ocean is rough and the sand is coarse, so there isn't oo much swimming that happens. Maaike told me that people here don't know how to swim. They just wade and get their ankles wet.
You'd think that after 2 weeks without a constant internet connection I'd be used to life without it. No such luck. I'm still trying to get my computer to dual boiot and after spending most of Thursday night and yesterday trying to get things to work, I found I need a 160mb software update. Hmph. It will take about 3 hours to download.
Monday
Last night was a full moon, a significant event for those of the Buddhist faith. Since most of the country is Buddhist, full moons are considered national holidays. Meg and I went to work for a few hours to set up a LAN, and then we went home around noon.
The Buddhist observance of a full moon involves a perahera, a huge parade after dark with dancers, musicians, and elephants. There is a perahera every month, in a different city each time, reperesenting some significant event. Last night's parade in Tissa memorialized the arrival of Lord Buddha - and thus, Buddhism - in Sri Lanka.
Maaike was able, through her husband's work, to get VIP seats to the parade, so Meg and I hopped in a van with Maiike, her husband Mark, and two of their friends - Stephie and Coralee. Maaike and Mark and Dutch, Stephie is from Germany, and Coralee is French, and they're all ineffably European. Coralee is also very brave, as she was the one driving the van. The 6 of us headed out to Tissa around 3. We arrived at a guest house to meet Una and David, of the UK, and then we threw ourselves in the pool.
The guest house looks out over Tissa Lake, a huge expanse of waterlogged seaweed and wetlands in front of some of the mountains. Una had spoken earlier with a local guy who owned a boat and was willing to take us around the lake. We stand out a lot, and locals will approach us all the time with offers of safari tours, boat tours, guest houses, etc. I've never really felt comfortable with this, but Una is apparently quite at home.
We went around the lake in a small motor boat, and the landscape was gorgeous. The most striking element of the lake tour was the birds. They were everywhere and there were hundreds. Pelicans, cormorants, ibis, gulls, and an eagle were all spotted. After they had fed, the birds retreated to a small island in the middle of the lake to settle for the night. The trees were FULL of these birds. I've never seen a pelican roost before, but apparently it's the thing to do here.
The boat trip took about an hour, and when we got back on dry land we made our way to the Tissa Inn for dinner. The Dutch were playing in a World Cup match that night and Maaike and Mark were really hoping to see it. Unfortunately, the game was not being broadcast locally. This was my first time eating at a guest house and the lesson to be learned is to order early - preferably before you arrive. It took about 45 minutes for our food to appear once we ordered. It was a pelasant wait, but still, quite a long time. Mark said this was pretty normal for guest houses here.
AFter the food, we got back in the van and drove to the site of the perahera. The parade starts at a temple (suitable lit up with Christmas lights for the night), circles through town, and makes its way back to where it began. The VIP passes allowed us seats right next to the temple at the start of the parade. Most people didn't get seats at all.
The parade started around 10:30 at night, and it took about 2 hours to pass us. First came the fire dancers, then a series of dancers, musicians, and elephant, and then an elephant decorated to the extreme with velvet, sequins, and lights. ON its back was a small shrine that contained one of the relics of Buddha. After the shrine passed, we saw another hour of dancing and singing. It was incredible.
When we were ready to leave, the parade was between us and the van, so we had some time to kill. We wandered across the street to a parking lot with many vendors. More than a few families were curled up in blankets on the ground in the dust, apparently sleeping out the night there and then returning home in the morning. We had tea from one of the vendors and slowly made our way back to the van. We got home around 3 am.
Wednesday
I've got some time to kill because W. isn't at work yet, and he's the only one with the key to the office. Harith has been crankier than usual the past few days, and this morning Thushari took him to a doctor. The doctor thought he had dengue. Thushari is getting a second opinion this afternoon. Dengue is spread by mosquito, and though it is not generally fatal, it lasts for weeks and causes a lot of fluid loss and weight loss. We will see what the second doctor says, I guess. Maaike mentioned that when dengue occurs, there are usually many cases in a small area at once.
Thursday
I'm finally back up to date. I'm headed in to work very soon, and tomorrow is my day off.
I was talking to Ashan yesterday, and he mentioned that although my next work site is Weligama, our house is in or near Mirissa. Mirissa has some of the best beaches on the island, I think. I can't wait to go.
So far I've identified 4 distinct types of bug bites. I have no idea what they're from, but apart from the familiar mosquito bites, they're all pretty vicious, and they entail redness, swelling, a bit of pain, etc. And they don't stop. Whatever little critters are causing these don't want to leave. I keep getting more of them.
The first order of business when I get home is a pedicure.
Joe showed up yesterday around 1, and the man is a giant. I didn't notice it when I arrived, but Sri Lankans are generally shorter than Americans by about 6 inches or so. At 6'2", Joe towers over everyone here. Even I am fairly tall among my colleagues.
First on the agenda was lunch, followed by a presentation of the scope of work, and then a field trip. We saw wild elephants (!) at a landfill. They're surrounded by green plants, and yet they dig through the trash to find food. There were 5 of them. I have good photos, and I'll show them off when I get back. We stopped by the beach afterwards, and Meg got drenched by a wave. She went home to change, only to find that everyone had left. Neither Meg nor I has keys to the house. Joe lent her a t-shirt, but she spent dinner in wet, salty clothes.
We had dinner at Joe's hotel. It was about 7 courses for 900 Rupees, which is about $9.00. Incredibly cheap for us, although in Sri Lanka, you can get a meal for about $1.00, so this is very expensive for them.
Joe stayed at his hotel while the rest of us went to Thushari's house. Meg and I thought we were being dropped off, but A. told us that the custom here is to stop in and say hi for a few minutes. Thushari and her mom were both still up, so w. and A. talked with them in a torrent of Sinhala while Meg and I listened.
Saturday
Yesterday was a day off, so Meg and I spent some time on the beach and just relaxed in general. The ocean is rough and the sand is coarse, so there isn't oo much swimming that happens. Maaike told me that people here don't know how to swim. They just wade and get their ankles wet.
You'd think that after 2 weeks without a constant internet connection I'd be used to life without it. No such luck. I'm still trying to get my computer to dual boiot and after spending most of Thursday night and yesterday trying to get things to work, I found I need a 160mb software update. Hmph. It will take about 3 hours to download.
Monday
Last night was a full moon, a significant event for those of the Buddhist faith. Since most of the country is Buddhist, full moons are considered national holidays. Meg and I went to work for a few hours to set up a LAN, and then we went home around noon.
The Buddhist observance of a full moon involves a perahera, a huge parade after dark with dancers, musicians, and elephants. There is a perahera every month, in a different city each time, reperesenting some significant event. Last night's parade in Tissa memorialized the arrival of Lord Buddha - and thus, Buddhism - in Sri Lanka.
Maaike was able, through her husband's work, to get VIP seats to the parade, so Meg and I hopped in a van with Maiike, her husband Mark, and two of their friends - Stephie and Coralee. Maaike and Mark and Dutch, Stephie is from Germany, and Coralee is French, and they're all ineffably European. Coralee is also very brave, as she was the one driving the van. The 6 of us headed out to Tissa around 3. We arrived at a guest house to meet Una and David, of the UK, and then we threw ourselves in the pool.
The guest house looks out over Tissa Lake, a huge expanse of waterlogged seaweed and wetlands in front of some of the mountains. Una had spoken earlier with a local guy who owned a boat and was willing to take us around the lake. We stand out a lot, and locals will approach us all the time with offers of safari tours, boat tours, guest houses, etc. I've never really felt comfortable with this, but Una is apparently quite at home.
We went around the lake in a small motor boat, and the landscape was gorgeous. The most striking element of the lake tour was the birds. They were everywhere and there were hundreds. Pelicans, cormorants, ibis, gulls, and an eagle were all spotted. After they had fed, the birds retreated to a small island in the middle of the lake to settle for the night. The trees were FULL of these birds. I've never seen a pelican roost before, but apparently it's the thing to do here.
The boat trip took about an hour, and when we got back on dry land we made our way to the Tissa Inn for dinner. The Dutch were playing in a World Cup match that night and Maaike and Mark were really hoping to see it. Unfortunately, the game was not being broadcast locally. This was my first time eating at a guest house and the lesson to be learned is to order early - preferably before you arrive. It took about 45 minutes for our food to appear once we ordered. It was a pelasant wait, but still, quite a long time. Mark said this was pretty normal for guest houses here.
AFter the food, we got back in the van and drove to the site of the perahera. The parade starts at a temple (suitable lit up with Christmas lights for the night), circles through town, and makes its way back to where it began. The VIP passes allowed us seats right next to the temple at the start of the parade. Most people didn't get seats at all.
The parade started around 10:30 at night, and it took about 2 hours to pass us. First came the fire dancers, then a series of dancers, musicians, and elephant, and then an elephant decorated to the extreme with velvet, sequins, and lights. ON its back was a small shrine that contained one of the relics of Buddha. After the shrine passed, we saw another hour of dancing and singing. It was incredible.
When we were ready to leave, the parade was between us and the van, so we had some time to kill. We wandered across the street to a parking lot with many vendors. More than a few families were curled up in blankets on the ground in the dust, apparently sleeping out the night there and then returning home in the morning. We had tea from one of the vendors and slowly made our way back to the van. We got home around 3 am.
Wednesday
I've got some time to kill because W. isn't at work yet, and he's the only one with the key to the office. Harith has been crankier than usual the past few days, and this morning Thushari took him to a doctor. The doctor thought he had dengue. Thushari is getting a second opinion this afternoon. Dengue is spread by mosquito, and though it is not generally fatal, it lasts for weeks and causes a lot of fluid loss and weight loss. We will see what the second doctor says, I guess. Maaike mentioned that when dengue occurs, there are usually many cases in a small area at once.
Thursday
I'm finally back up to date. I'm headed in to work very soon, and tomorrow is my day off.
I was talking to Ashan yesterday, and he mentioned that although my next work site is Weligama, our house is in or near Mirissa. Mirissa has some of the best beaches on the island, I think. I can't wait to go.
So far I've identified 4 distinct types of bug bites. I have no idea what they're from, but apart from the familiar mosquito bites, they're all pretty vicious, and they entail redness, swelling, a bit of pain, etc. And they don't stop. Whatever little critters are causing these don't want to leave. I keep getting more of them.
The first order of business when I get home is a pedicure.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Blog Fixes
I think I've got most things under control now (thank you, Adam!), so hopefully I'll go back to posting more regularly. If you were trying to leave comments before, sorry, my fault that it didn't work. But all the backlog is cleared now, so they're all posted, and new ones should show up immediately. Sorry for the mess. :)
Time to clear the blog backlog...
I'll go back to journaling in a minute, but I found out that my audience has extended further than the States (Hi Ashan, Swasha, and Mr. and Mrs. Dias!) which is really cool. Anyway, everyone reading should understand that this is a journal of random ramblings, and I may complain a bit, but don't worry. If there really is a problem, I'll get in touch with the right people. In the mean time I'm having fun being a stranger in a strange land with all that that entails.
Monday
I am a gallery of bug bites. During work yesterday, I noticed an odd redness on my foot. A closer inspection revealed oozing, swelling, and more discoloration. This worried me a bit, and later when I realized that the bite wasn't closing, I was concerned enough to seek out G., the financial director of the center, and the employee available with the best English. G. examined the bite and then sought out a few more poeple. Lots of pointing and Sinhala ensued, along with the physical repositioning of my foot (by them) to get it into the light. Meg thought all of this was absolutely hilarious and couln't looks at me without laughing hysterically. After much discussion, D. disappeared briefly and came back with a lime that she rubbed vigorously on the bite. G. explained that lime juice will neutralize the poison. !
When I woke up this morning, my foot was still swollen. So far, no one has been able to tell me what bit me, although the popular opinion is ants. I can believe that. There are red ants of all sizes here. I don't remember stepping on an anthill, but it might have happened.
Meg tells me that W. works 7 days every week and "invites" everyone else to do the same. I've been assured by MIjka through Meg that a 7 day work week is not the custom here and that I should be very firm about getting days off. So be it. I think we've come to an agreement with W. that Mondays and Fridays are our holidays, but the problem now seems to be enforcing the point that holiday means "no work." Today is one of my days off, but Meg and I are still leaving at 2:30 to go to a computer store with B., the IT supervisor, to pick up networking gear for the center. I'm not thrilled about this, but it means we'll get to see another part of town and it should be a short trip. Hopefully, after that, the beach.
Las night I was given a bit more insight into the lack of English here. I wandered into the kitchen to find Thushari studying a series of English instruction booklets. The booklets looked very nice and they were probably expensive. I peered over her shoulder. The book had sections of sentences, divided by verb usage. The english sentences were riddled with errors, both in spelling and grammar.
Tuesday
My mystery bug bites are getting better. They've turned an ugly purple, which in my experience means they're healing. I have about 4 of them on my feet and ankles, and they're each about .75" in diameter, so my feet are atrocious right now.
The visit to the computer store yesterday was unremarkable. The biggest difference between stores in the States and stores here is that here, people are much more devoted to customer service. The customer walks in and immediately sits down at a service counter. The employee behind the counter records everything the customer wants, then goes and retrieves it. This makes it a bit harder to browse the store, so I can't decide if I like it more or less than the States style of offering help only when asked.
Thushari made us macaroni for dinner last night. It had eggs, carrots, leeks, sausage, and chicken stock. Great stuff, reminded me of home. Very salty though, and after Sri Lankan food for a week, I'm not sued to it.
Time to clear the blog backlog...
I'll go back to journaling in a minute, but I found out that my audience has extended further than the States (Hi Ashan, Swasha, and Mr. and Mrs. Dias!) which is really cool. Anyway, everyone reading should understand that this is a journal of random ramblings, and I may complain a bit, but don't worry. If there really is a problem, I'll get in touch with the right people. In the mean time I'm having fun being a stranger in a strange land with all that that entails.
Monday
I am a gallery of bug bites. During work yesterday, I noticed an odd redness on my foot. A closer inspection revealed oozing, swelling, and more discoloration. This worried me a bit, and later when I realized that the bite wasn't closing, I was concerned enough to seek out G., the financial director of the center, and the employee available with the best English. G. examined the bite and then sought out a few more poeple. Lots of pointing and Sinhala ensued, along with the physical repositioning of my foot (by them) to get it into the light. Meg thought all of this was absolutely hilarious and couln't looks at me without laughing hysterically. After much discussion, D. disappeared briefly and came back with a lime that she rubbed vigorously on the bite. G. explained that lime juice will neutralize the poison. !
When I woke up this morning, my foot was still swollen. So far, no one has been able to tell me what bit me, although the popular opinion is ants. I can believe that. There are red ants of all sizes here. I don't remember stepping on an anthill, but it might have happened.
Meg tells me that W. works 7 days every week and "invites" everyone else to do the same. I've been assured by MIjka through Meg that a 7 day work week is not the custom here and that I should be very firm about getting days off. So be it. I think we've come to an agreement with W. that Mondays and Fridays are our holidays, but the problem now seems to be enforcing the point that holiday means "no work." Today is one of my days off, but Meg and I are still leaving at 2:30 to go to a computer store with B., the IT supervisor, to pick up networking gear for the center. I'm not thrilled about this, but it means we'll get to see another part of town and it should be a short trip. Hopefully, after that, the beach.
Las night I was given a bit more insight into the lack of English here. I wandered into the kitchen to find Thushari studying a series of English instruction booklets. The booklets looked very nice and they were probably expensive. I peered over her shoulder. The book had sections of sentences, divided by verb usage. The english sentences were riddled with errors, both in spelling and grammar.
Tuesday
My mystery bug bites are getting better. They've turned an ugly purple, which in my experience means they're healing. I have about 4 of them on my feet and ankles, and they're each about .75" in diameter, so my feet are atrocious right now.
The visit to the computer store yesterday was unremarkable. The biggest difference between stores in the States and stores here is that here, people are much more devoted to customer service. The customer walks in and immediately sits down at a service counter. The employee behind the counter records everything the customer wants, then goes and retrieves it. This makes it a bit harder to browse the store, so I can't decide if I like it more or less than the States style of offering help only when asked.
Thushari made us macaroni for dinner last night. It had eggs, carrots, leeks, sausage, and chicken stock. Great stuff, reminded me of home. Very salty though, and after Sri Lankan food for a week, I'm not sued to it.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Blog Weirdness
For some reason, blogspot isn't dating my posts properly, so they're appearing out of order. The most recent (before this one) is "She's Calling You Fat". Assume that I will post pretty much daily, and scroll down for new entries.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
She's Calling You Fat
Saturday
I've been working with Meg on a brochure for the center. They want some sort of publication to hand out to potential donors. It has been a struggle, not in the least because of the language barrier. In Colombo, most people speak a fair amount of English, but Hambantota is different. As Thushari put it (and I just found out that it's spelled Thushari, not Tushari), people in Hambantota know enough to communicate, but they don't know correct English. This has been hurdle all week, and it's a bit frustrating.
I may have mentioned before that Sri Lankans tend to say what they mean, and they don't mince words. I got a great example of it today at dinner, when Malmi, Thushari's daughter, called Meg fat. I forget what brought this on, but anyway, Malmi told Meg she was fat, in front of me, Harith (her brother), and Thushari. I figured she just didn't know better, until Thushari said the same thing. "You are fat! Hallie thin!" Apparently it's not so impolite to tell the truth, here. This had me in stitches, and Meg was quite confused. So ensued a series of tests in which Meg tried to prove that she is my size, and I argued with her. Thushari was laughing hysterically through the whole thing. Pretty much everyone who meets Meg calls her a baby, because she is always playing, and acts very young. They haven't said much of anything to me. Thushari really likes my clothes though (I wear a lot of skirts).
I've been here almost a week, and the food is really starting to exhaust me. I haven't been here long, so every day, everything is new. I didn't realize just how hard it would be to have every meal, every day be something I haven't ever seen before. It's very good, and very simple, but I miss American food. Especially pizza. So I started trying to make subtle inquiries about availability of pizza, or failing that, its ingredients. I haven't seen a pizza place since I've arrived, and I haven't seen any cheese, so I thought I might be out of luck. But one of the girls from the center told me that they love pizza here, but it is very expensive at restaurants. That gave me enough hope to very casually ask Thushari tonight at dinner if I could get cheese at the local grocery store. I said, verbatim, "Does Food City have cheese?" and immediately she said, "Yes. You are making pizza?" So much for subtle. Thushari described her version of pizza, which she really likes, and I think I'll stick to the Americanized version. So there may be a shopping trip in the near future. I really miss pizza.
Sunday
This morning, we found that a piece of siding had been ripped off the house and was lying in the yard. Apparently one of the monkeys was responsible. It had fallen when a monkey tried to jump onto it from a tree. So Thushari's mother took a rather large kitchen knife and set about cutting down all of the trees and branches near the house.
There is no way to be alone here. I share a room with Meg, the house is always full of people including 2 very rambunctious kids, work is full of people, and I'm not allowed to go anywhere by myself. This includes the beach out back. I had romantic visions of spending sunrise in front of the ocean, but to get there, I have to walk through some pine barrens. Maybe 50 feet or so. Thushari says it's jungle, and dangerous for someone alone. If this keeps up, I'll go nuts.
Today at work, Meg and I held a meeting with our boss, W., and the senior advisor of the center, A. As consultants, we are tasked with evaluating the center, coming up with a list of projects that we could do, and deciding which projects are most feasible and valuable to our clients. We wanted to present W. and A. with our project proposals, so we sat down with every intention of a quick, 30 minute talk about networking, databases, and curriculum development. We got as far as explaining our desire to network the computers in the class room, and W. was trying to figure out a schedule so that he knew when to buy equipment and when we would be finished. Then he and A. started talking about our days off. Specifically, they started making lists of sights we should see, and places we could go. This went for 20 minutes, and all the while Meg and I kept trying to turn the discussion back to work related matters. We were a bit irritated until it dawned on us that we have bosses who are more concerned about our vacations than our work. Whee!
I have to be very careful about what I say here. If I express interest in anything, even casually, people start trying to arrange it for me. Sri Lankans are very hospitable, and they are justifiably proud of this. But if I'm not careful, my vacation days get planned for me.
I may have mentioned previously that our work agreement included a personal chef. The purpose was twofold: to avoid getting cheated at markets, where most people speak only Sinhala; and to make sure that everything is safe to eat. I was confused as to how we were going to save money by hiring a personal chef. The mystery has been solved. Thushari cooks breakfast and dinner, and the center has a housekeeper who cooks lunch and tea for us during the day. This is a great arrangement, because we get to try all the native foods. It also works well because Thushari and her mother do their cooking over an open flame (coconut husks - kindling and hard wood all in one) and I'm not that skilled. I've never made curry before.
Note to the cooks traveling here: cardamom appears to be VERY cheap. Thushari puts it in everything, in large amounts. She made a fabulous crepe filled with shredded coconut, sugar, and cardamom. It was incredible. She also made a cake out of wheat flour, sugar, margarine, eggs, and milk. Simple and fantastic. It sounds terrible to say that it tasted just like Pillsbury vanilla cake mix, but it was great, and the first familiar food I'd had in a week.
I have a day off tomorrow, so I won't be posting anything for a few days.
I've been working with Meg on a brochure for the center. They want some sort of publication to hand out to potential donors. It has been a struggle, not in the least because of the language barrier. In Colombo, most people speak a fair amount of English, but Hambantota is different. As Thushari put it (and I just found out that it's spelled Thushari, not Tushari), people in Hambantota know enough to communicate, but they don't know correct English. This has been hurdle all week, and it's a bit frustrating.
I may have mentioned before that Sri Lankans tend to say what they mean, and they don't mince words. I got a great example of it today at dinner, when Malmi, Thushari's daughter, called Meg fat. I forget what brought this on, but anyway, Malmi told Meg she was fat, in front of me, Harith (her brother), and Thushari. I figured she just didn't know better, until Thushari said the same thing. "You are fat! Hallie thin!" Apparently it's not so impolite to tell the truth, here. This had me in stitches, and Meg was quite confused. So ensued a series of tests in which Meg tried to prove that she is my size, and I argued with her. Thushari was laughing hysterically through the whole thing. Pretty much everyone who meets Meg calls her a baby, because she is always playing, and acts very young. They haven't said much of anything to me. Thushari really likes my clothes though (I wear a lot of skirts).
I've been here almost a week, and the food is really starting to exhaust me. I haven't been here long, so every day, everything is new. I didn't realize just how hard it would be to have every meal, every day be something I haven't ever seen before. It's very good, and very simple, but I miss American food. Especially pizza. So I started trying to make subtle inquiries about availability of pizza, or failing that, its ingredients. I haven't seen a pizza place since I've arrived, and I haven't seen any cheese, so I thought I might be out of luck. But one of the girls from the center told me that they love pizza here, but it is very expensive at restaurants. That gave me enough hope to very casually ask Thushari tonight at dinner if I could get cheese at the local grocery store. I said, verbatim, "Does Food City have cheese?" and immediately she said, "Yes. You are making pizza?" So much for subtle. Thushari described her version of pizza, which she really likes, and I think I'll stick to the Americanized version. So there may be a shopping trip in the near future. I really miss pizza.
Sunday
This morning, we found that a piece of siding had been ripped off the house and was lying in the yard. Apparently one of the monkeys was responsible. It had fallen when a monkey tried to jump onto it from a tree. So Thushari's mother took a rather large kitchen knife and set about cutting down all of the trees and branches near the house.
There is no way to be alone here. I share a room with Meg, the house is always full of people including 2 very rambunctious kids, work is full of people, and I'm not allowed to go anywhere by myself. This includes the beach out back. I had romantic visions of spending sunrise in front of the ocean, but to get there, I have to walk through some pine barrens. Maybe 50 feet or so. Thushari says it's jungle, and dangerous for someone alone. If this keeps up, I'll go nuts.
Today at work, Meg and I held a meeting with our boss, W., and the senior advisor of the center, A. As consultants, we are tasked with evaluating the center, coming up with a list of projects that we could do, and deciding which projects are most feasible and valuable to our clients. We wanted to present W. and A. with our project proposals, so we sat down with every intention of a quick, 30 minute talk about networking, databases, and curriculum development. We got as far as explaining our desire to network the computers in the class room, and W. was trying to figure out a schedule so that he knew when to buy equipment and when we would be finished. Then he and A. started talking about our days off. Specifically, they started making lists of sights we should see, and places we could go. This went for 20 minutes, and all the while Meg and I kept trying to turn the discussion back to work related matters. We were a bit irritated until it dawned on us that we have bosses who are more concerned about our vacations than our work. Whee!
I have to be very careful about what I say here. If I express interest in anything, even casually, people start trying to arrange it for me. Sri Lankans are very hospitable, and they are justifiably proud of this. But if I'm not careful, my vacation days get planned for me.
I may have mentioned previously that our work agreement included a personal chef. The purpose was twofold: to avoid getting cheated at markets, where most people speak only Sinhala; and to make sure that everything is safe to eat. I was confused as to how we were going to save money by hiring a personal chef. The mystery has been solved. Thushari cooks breakfast and dinner, and the center has a housekeeper who cooks lunch and tea for us during the day. This is a great arrangement, because we get to try all the native foods. It also works well because Thushari and her mother do their cooking over an open flame (coconut husks - kindling and hard wood all in one) and I'm not that skilled. I've never made curry before.
Note to the cooks traveling here: cardamom appears to be VERY cheap. Thushari puts it in everything, in large amounts. She made a fabulous crepe filled with shredded coconut, sugar, and cardamom. It was incredible. She also made a cake out of wheat flour, sugar, margarine, eggs, and milk. Simple and fantastic. It sounds terrible to say that it tasted just like Pillsbury vanilla cake mix, but it was great, and the first familiar food I'd had in a week.
I have a day off tomorrow, so I won't be posting anything for a few days.
Friday, June 02, 2006
To Colombo and Back
Now that I finally have my laptop, my posts will get more thorough. I'll type them at home, at a reasonable pace, and then post them at work, when I get the chance. Prepare for some small novels.
I have adopted a manner that can only be described as meek. I think it comes from having to rely on everyone else for translation and not wanting to appear as a "typical" American tourist. Additionally, the less eye contact I make with others, especially men, the less I get honked at while walking down the street. So I spend the day looking at the ground trying not to get noticed. This is...alien.... to my nature and I will be quite happy to return to the States. People think I'm helpless here, and they tell me not to go out alone, not to walk anywhere. I wonder what they'd think if they saw me in my own environment.
The trip to Colombo yesterday was long, but informative. We went through the mountains, through Ratnapura and the center of the country. It's all jungle. There are no yards around houses here. No grass. Just trees and animals. And everything is wild: cats, dogs, cows (yes, cows. Wild cows. They hang out next to roads). Meg has been trying to pet every wild animal she sees, and so I spend my time babysitting. The last thing I need is for her to get rabies, a real threat here.
There are no highways in Sri Lanka. I haven't seen any roads wider than 2 lanes, actually, even in cities. The road system is not extensive, so there are a few main roads, named for the cities they go to (Galle, Tangalle, etc) and other streets in the cities. Outside the major towns, the roads are very bumpy. This all leads to two very odd consequences.
Sri Lankans have only a passing acquaintance with seat belts. Those in the front seat will usually wear them, but people in back will not. Vehicles rarely travel above 40 mph here, so it's not quite as terrifying as it sounds, but still it takes getting used to.
On long trips, it is rare that the car will stop. There are no cross roads, so we just keep going. I was surprised by this, since the business roads in the states all have stop signs, and more traffic than here, I think.
The first time I experienced Sri Lankan driving, I almost turned around and got on the first plane home. To someone from the States, the traffic looks like a a text book example of Brownian motion and mass chaos. People drive on the left, and though the roads are only 2 lane by our standards, people turn them into 4 and 5 lane roads. Passing is constant, both on the right and wrong sides of the road, and people will cross the median to pass into oncoming traffic far more than I am comfortable with. Horns are used almost constantly, and I spent my first car ride unwillingly trapped in a vision of a 40 car pile up as every driver had a heart attack all at once.
But my driver, though he was no stranger to the horn, was quite calm, and I noticed that most others were too. There is a definite system in place here; without one, there would be no driving. It seems that here, drivers use the horn the way we would use the turn signal or flashing head lights. If someone cuts you off, you honk, but only to let them know that you're there, not to express displeasure. If you're coming up behind someone, especially if your vehicle is bigger than theirs, you honk. If you're passing someone, you honk. The result of all this is that people here are actually much better drivers than we are. They are much more alert, and they are more prepared to make sudden stops and swerves than most American drivers would be. This hypothesis is strengthened by concrete evidence: I have seen very few dented cars here. No matter how old, their bodies are in pretty much perfect condition (I saw a body shop yesterday called Body Parts... I wonder if they have any idea).
I have been trying to pick up a little Sinhala, but I am having much more difficulty than I expected. In Greece, most street signs were written in both Greek and English, so I could learn the alphabet and pronunciation by reading the signs. Here, signs are also written in both Sinhala and English, but in a much different way. English is a national language here, and especially in Colombo, most people speak at least a little. So rather than having 2 full translations of one sign, shop owners will headline their storefronts in English and have subtext in Sinhala. So nothing is actually repeated. And this makes it much harder to pick up the alphabet. I noticed this in the airport in Bombay too. News programs had "BREAKING NEWS" at the top of their ticker tape, and then all the headlines were in Hindi.
Back to the trip...
We eventually arrived at Ashan's father's house. Ashan is in the States right now on business, and I had given him all of my luggage documentation so that he could forward it to his travel agent and she spent her time tracking it down. I needed it back in order to pick up my stuff, hence the stop.
Perhaps I spend too much time with my nose buried in books. There is a character that keeps reappearing in my literature. This character is typically, but not always, male, past 50, rich, and wise. Most importantly, he is old enough and rich enough to have the freedom to be frank and direct in his speech. This person is never malicious, but brutally honest. I have always liked and respected these characters, but I didn't think they actually existed in real life. Imagine my surprise then, when I realized that Ashan's father is just such a man. He invited my traveling companion and myself to have lunch with him and his family, and it was quite an experience. Ashan's father has a commanding presence, and he was not afraid to talk politics, or to ask me directly what I thought of our current president. I gather that most Sri Lankans would not speak of such things with foreigners. I think he was testing me. He also warned me never to go out alone.
We went to the airport and I managed to get into a few disagreements with the staff. I don't think these were entirely my fault. The first was at the baggage claim counter. The woman helping me asked for my local address, and then wrote down "Ambantota" when I gave her the town name. I tried to correct her spelling (Hambantota) and she told me my pronunciation was wrong, and that really there was no 'H' in the spelling. I was fairly sure she was misinformed, since I had just spent a week staring at all the signs here that say "Hambantota", but since I am foreign, she would have none of it. The first thing I did today, upon arriving at work, was to confirm the spelling of the town (I was right).
The second issue came up when I went through customs. My bag was opened and searched, so that the agents could confirm that I had declared the right things, and the customs agent going through my belongings came upon two religious texts that I had not intended to make public. Before I came, I tried to find information on Sri Lanka's religious laws and tolerance. My research turned up nothing, and these books could not be left at home, so I had resolved to keep them out of site. The official found them and immediately questioned me. I said that theology was a hobby of mine (true) and that those books were my research over the summer (also true, after a fashion). A bit more of this, and he put the books back, with a stern warning that extreme forms of this faith were dangerous. Thank you, Mr. Customs Official.
Finally, we were able to leave and start the drive back home. At that point, it was 4:30. The drive home was relatively uneventful, except for one thing: the road blocks. The Sri Lankan police have set up check points on the main roads. They will stop and search random vehicles, asking for drivers licenses, agendas, and occasionally my passport. This happened many times, and at one of the stops, I was told to open my luggage. I do not know the search and seizure laws here, but my personal convictions include not arguing with people holding assault rifles, so I complied. As soon as I'd shown that I was willing to open my bag, the guards desisted, and let us pass.
We stopped for dinner at a small Chinese takeout place and- wait, there is much to be said here about Chinese takeout places. I have seen A LOT of Chinese takeout restaurants here. They are especially numerous in Colombo, but even the smallest villages will usually have at least one. There are two traits common to every Chinese place that I've seen so far: All the signs look like Italian flags (red, white and green, every single one) and they are all run by Sri Lankans. I haven't seen any other ethnic food places, just Chinese, and I haven't seen any Chinese people at all. Anyway, as I was saying.
...we were at a Chinese takeout place for dinner. We had the Sri Lankan version of Chinese fried rice, which is probably about as authentically Chinese as the American versions I've had (but I like ours better). At the end of the meal, Madu asked me if I wanted to use the bathroom. I said yes, and she and the driver promptly disappeared. They came back a few minutes later, and Madu told me there was no... comma? comma'd? comet? Was I supposed to clean the bathroom? I decided that if she could handle whatever was there, then so could I. It wasn't until I arrived at the bathroom stall that I was finally able to translate her heavily accented english. Among the other elements missing from the bathroom (light, lock on the door, toilet paper) was the toilet. Madu had said "commode" and I had not understood. Instead, there was a hole in the floor. And ants. Ants everywhere. I dealt with it as quickly as I could, and we left.
On an unrelated note, I met my personal savior a few days ago, at work. Mijka, a Dutch woman, has worked at the CRC for 8 or 10 months and she speaks perfect English. She also has a good understanding of what it is like to be a foreign, white woman here, and she has steadily been feeding me bits of very useful information.
One such gem involves the LTTE and the north and east. I had suspected, before coming here, that the LTTE was wary of involving foreigners in this internal conflict. I was more right than I knew. Mijka told me that in the north and east, which are under Tamil control, there are very concerted efforts to keep tourists out of the conflict. When tourists arrive, representatives of the LTTE will come to their houses and record names, addresses, agendas, the places they'll shop, and so forth, and then there will be no bombings at those places.
Meg tells me that Mijka is also the one to thank for our 5 day work week. The people at the center mostly work 6 days (Tuesday - Sunday). When Mijka arrived, she tells me she was very firm about her work schedule and refused to work weekends, since that is when her husband is off. So I guess she explained to my boss that most people from Europe and the U.S. work 5 days per week.
As one might expect, Sri Lankans have some great secrets that they've learned over time. Occasionally, they share them with me, so I'll record them here.
Sri Lankan Wisdoms:
-If, in an attempt to commit suicide (or, presumably, for any other reason), someone ingests gasoline, give them coconut milk immediately to induce vomiting. Just FYI. (It seems that drinking gasoline is a common way to kill yourself, here).
-If you think you are getting sick, make tea with ginger and coriander. This will ward off illness.
-To clean a pillow (not the case, but the pillow itself), place it in the Sri Lankan sun for a day. The heat will kill the germs living there.
TEA
Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, has a very intimate relationship with tea. There are 3 tea times that I observe each day: before breakfast, mid morning, and mid afternoon. There are two types of tea: milk tea and plain tea. Milk tea is tea with cream and sugar (quite good, I love the stuff), and plain tea is tea with sugar only. I have not heard of tea without milk or sugar. It seems as though they do not drink it.
THE FOOD
Before I arrived here, I was warned, both by guide books and personal friends, that Sri Lankan food is very spicy, "some of the hottest in the world." After some research, I have not found anything even close to inedible, which is what I was expecting. In fact, everything is quite nice, and for those working on the Pittsburgh Indian scale, I have not had anything above a 5 or so. I don't know what everyone got so worked up about. Maybe I just haven't had the right food, or maybe those people who didn't grow up with a cabinet dedicated to hot sauce would find things a bit less palatable but I just don't see what everyone is whining about.
HOT WATER
There isn't any. Neither Tushari nor the center has a water heater. It makes some sense, since all water must be boiled before it is consumed. And the water that comes out of the tap isn't exactly cold. It's probably about 75 degrees or so. But this does mean that I take cold showers every night. It took me about a week to get used to it.
THE WEATHER
The temperature doesn't really change here. It is always in the mid 80s. But the humidity varies, and it makes a huge difference. Today it feels very nice because it's not very humid. Yesterday was miserable.
I have adopted a manner that can only be described as meek. I think it comes from having to rely on everyone else for translation and not wanting to appear as a "typical" American tourist. Additionally, the less eye contact I make with others, especially men, the less I get honked at while walking down the street. So I spend the day looking at the ground trying not to get noticed. This is...alien.... to my nature and I will be quite happy to return to the States. People think I'm helpless here, and they tell me not to go out alone, not to walk anywhere. I wonder what they'd think if they saw me in my own environment.
The trip to Colombo yesterday was long, but informative. We went through the mountains, through Ratnapura and the center of the country. It's all jungle. There are no yards around houses here. No grass. Just trees and animals. And everything is wild: cats, dogs, cows (yes, cows. Wild cows. They hang out next to roads). Meg has been trying to pet every wild animal she sees, and so I spend my time babysitting. The last thing I need is for her to get rabies, a real threat here.
There are no highways in Sri Lanka. I haven't seen any roads wider than 2 lanes, actually, even in cities. The road system is not extensive, so there are a few main roads, named for the cities they go to (Galle, Tangalle, etc) and other streets in the cities. Outside the major towns, the roads are very bumpy. This all leads to two very odd consequences.
Sri Lankans have only a passing acquaintance with seat belts. Those in the front seat will usually wear them, but people in back will not. Vehicles rarely travel above 40 mph here, so it's not quite as terrifying as it sounds, but still it takes getting used to.
On long trips, it is rare that the car will stop. There are no cross roads, so we just keep going. I was surprised by this, since the business roads in the states all have stop signs, and more traffic than here, I think.
The first time I experienced Sri Lankan driving, I almost turned around and got on the first plane home. To someone from the States, the traffic looks like a a text book example of Brownian motion and mass chaos. People drive on the left, and though the roads are only 2 lane by our standards, people turn them into 4 and 5 lane roads. Passing is constant, both on the right and wrong sides of the road, and people will cross the median to pass into oncoming traffic far more than I am comfortable with. Horns are used almost constantly, and I spent my first car ride unwillingly trapped in a vision of a 40 car pile up as every driver had a heart attack all at once.
But my driver, though he was no stranger to the horn, was quite calm, and I noticed that most others were too. There is a definite system in place here; without one, there would be no driving. It seems that here, drivers use the horn the way we would use the turn signal or flashing head lights. If someone cuts you off, you honk, but only to let them know that you're there, not to express displeasure. If you're coming up behind someone, especially if your vehicle is bigger than theirs, you honk. If you're passing someone, you honk. The result of all this is that people here are actually much better drivers than we are. They are much more alert, and they are more prepared to make sudden stops and swerves than most American drivers would be. This hypothesis is strengthened by concrete evidence: I have seen very few dented cars here. No matter how old, their bodies are in pretty much perfect condition (I saw a body shop yesterday called Body Parts... I wonder if they have any idea).
I have been trying to pick up a little Sinhala, but I am having much more difficulty than I expected. In Greece, most street signs were written in both Greek and English, so I could learn the alphabet and pronunciation by reading the signs. Here, signs are also written in both Sinhala and English, but in a much different way. English is a national language here, and especially in Colombo, most people speak at least a little. So rather than having 2 full translations of one sign, shop owners will headline their storefronts in English and have subtext in Sinhala. So nothing is actually repeated. And this makes it much harder to pick up the alphabet. I noticed this in the airport in Bombay too. News programs had "BREAKING NEWS" at the top of their ticker tape, and then all the headlines were in Hindi.
Back to the trip...
We eventually arrived at Ashan's father's house. Ashan is in the States right now on business, and I had given him all of my luggage documentation so that he could forward it to his travel agent and she spent her time tracking it down. I needed it back in order to pick up my stuff, hence the stop.
Perhaps I spend too much time with my nose buried in books. There is a character that keeps reappearing in my literature. This character is typically, but not always, male, past 50, rich, and wise. Most importantly, he is old enough and rich enough to have the freedom to be frank and direct in his speech. This person is never malicious, but brutally honest. I have always liked and respected these characters, but I didn't think they actually existed in real life. Imagine my surprise then, when I realized that Ashan's father is just such a man. He invited my traveling companion and myself to have lunch with him and his family, and it was quite an experience. Ashan's father has a commanding presence, and he was not afraid to talk politics, or to ask me directly what I thought of our current president. I gather that most Sri Lankans would not speak of such things with foreigners. I think he was testing me. He also warned me never to go out alone.
We went to the airport and I managed to get into a few disagreements with the staff. I don't think these were entirely my fault. The first was at the baggage claim counter. The woman helping me asked for my local address, and then wrote down "Ambantota" when I gave her the town name. I tried to correct her spelling (Hambantota) and she told me my pronunciation was wrong, and that really there was no 'H' in the spelling. I was fairly sure she was misinformed, since I had just spent a week staring at all the signs here that say "Hambantota", but since I am foreign, she would have none of it. The first thing I did today, upon arriving at work, was to confirm the spelling of the town (I was right).
The second issue came up when I went through customs. My bag was opened and searched, so that the agents could confirm that I had declared the right things, and the customs agent going through my belongings came upon two religious texts that I had not intended to make public. Before I came, I tried to find information on Sri Lanka's religious laws and tolerance. My research turned up nothing, and these books could not be left at home, so I had resolved to keep them out of site. The official found them and immediately questioned me. I said that theology was a hobby of mine (true) and that those books were my research over the summer (also true, after a fashion). A bit more of this, and he put the books back, with a stern warning that extreme forms of this faith were dangerous. Thank you, Mr. Customs Official.
Finally, we were able to leave and start the drive back home. At that point, it was 4:30. The drive home was relatively uneventful, except for one thing: the road blocks. The Sri Lankan police have set up check points on the main roads. They will stop and search random vehicles, asking for drivers licenses, agendas, and occasionally my passport. This happened many times, and at one of the stops, I was told to open my luggage. I do not know the search and seizure laws here, but my personal convictions include not arguing with people holding assault rifles, so I complied. As soon as I'd shown that I was willing to open my bag, the guards desisted, and let us pass.
We stopped for dinner at a small Chinese takeout place and- wait, there is much to be said here about Chinese takeout places. I have seen A LOT of Chinese takeout restaurants here. They are especially numerous in Colombo, but even the smallest villages will usually have at least one. There are two traits common to every Chinese place that I've seen so far: All the signs look like Italian flags (red, white and green, every single one) and they are all run by Sri Lankans. I haven't seen any other ethnic food places, just Chinese, and I haven't seen any Chinese people at all. Anyway, as I was saying.
...we were at a Chinese takeout place for dinner. We had the Sri Lankan version of Chinese fried rice, which is probably about as authentically Chinese as the American versions I've had (but I like ours better). At the end of the meal, Madu asked me if I wanted to use the bathroom. I said yes, and she and the driver promptly disappeared. They came back a few minutes later, and Madu told me there was no... comma? comma'd? comet? Was I supposed to clean the bathroom? I decided that if she could handle whatever was there, then so could I. It wasn't until I arrived at the bathroom stall that I was finally able to translate her heavily accented english. Among the other elements missing from the bathroom (light, lock on the door, toilet paper) was the toilet. Madu had said "commode" and I had not understood. Instead, there was a hole in the floor. And ants. Ants everywhere. I dealt with it as quickly as I could, and we left.
On an unrelated note, I met my personal savior a few days ago, at work. Mijka, a Dutch woman, has worked at the CRC for 8 or 10 months and she speaks perfect English. She also has a good understanding of what it is like to be a foreign, white woman here, and she has steadily been feeding me bits of very useful information.
One such gem involves the LTTE and the north and east. I had suspected, before coming here, that the LTTE was wary of involving foreigners in this internal conflict. I was more right than I knew. Mijka told me that in the north and east, which are under Tamil control, there are very concerted efforts to keep tourists out of the conflict. When tourists arrive, representatives of the LTTE will come to their houses and record names, addresses, agendas, the places they'll shop, and so forth, and then there will be no bombings at those places.
Meg tells me that Mijka is also the one to thank for our 5 day work week. The people at the center mostly work 6 days (Tuesday - Sunday). When Mijka arrived, she tells me she was very firm about her work schedule and refused to work weekends, since that is when her husband is off. So I guess she explained to my boss that most people from Europe and the U.S. work 5 days per week.
As one might expect, Sri Lankans have some great secrets that they've learned over time. Occasionally, they share them with me, so I'll record them here.
Sri Lankan Wisdoms:
-If, in an attempt to commit suicide (or, presumably, for any other reason), someone ingests gasoline, give them coconut milk immediately to induce vomiting. Just FYI. (It seems that drinking gasoline is a common way to kill yourself, here).
-If you think you are getting sick, make tea with ginger and coriander. This will ward off illness.
-To clean a pillow (not the case, but the pillow itself), place it in the Sri Lankan sun for a day. The heat will kill the germs living there.
TEA
Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, has a very intimate relationship with tea. There are 3 tea times that I observe each day: before breakfast, mid morning, and mid afternoon. There are two types of tea: milk tea and plain tea. Milk tea is tea with cream and sugar (quite good, I love the stuff), and plain tea is tea with sugar only. I have not heard of tea without milk or sugar. It seems as though they do not drink it.
THE FOOD
Before I arrived here, I was warned, both by guide books and personal friends, that Sri Lankan food is very spicy, "some of the hottest in the world." After some research, I have not found anything even close to inedible, which is what I was expecting. In fact, everything is quite nice, and for those working on the Pittsburgh Indian scale, I have not had anything above a 5 or so. I don't know what everyone got so worked up about. Maybe I just haven't had the right food, or maybe those people who didn't grow up with a cabinet dedicated to hot sauce would find things a bit less palatable but I just don't see what everyone is whining about.
HOT WATER
There isn't any. Neither Tushari nor the center has a water heater. It makes some sense, since all water must be boiled before it is consumed. And the water that comes out of the tap isn't exactly cold. It's probably about 75 degrees or so. But this does mean that I take cold showers every night. It took me about a week to get used to it.
THE WEATHER
The temperature doesn't really change here. It is always in the mid 80s. But the humidity varies, and it makes a huge difference. Today it feels very nice because it's not very humid. Yesterday was miserable.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Luggage Party!
I got word today that my luggage has been found and is now in Colombo. This is great, except that I am in Hambantota, and I'm the only one who can sign for my luggage. So, tomorrow I will travel back to Colombo to recover my luggage, eat a quick lunch, and then come back to Hambantota, all in the same day. It is frustrating, but well worth the trip to get my stuff back. I have spent every morning before work hand washing the clothes I wore the day before. It takes 2 days for clothes to dry, so I rotate among 3 shirts.
I have tried more new food than I can name so far, and it is only the third day at work. I am not usually so receptive to new foods, and I have found that the secret is to try everything first, before I ask what the ingrediants are. It keeps me unbiased. We eat with our hands here, and that in itself is odd. Right now, the most difficult part of eating is persuading a Sri Lankan to eat first, so that Meg and I can learn how it's done.
Some of the guide books I read recommended that single women pretend they were married, and that they should come armed with not only a ring, but also a photo of the husband that they could produce at a moment's notice. I brought the photo, but not the ring, and maybe that was a mistake. There are very few caucasions in Hambantota, and we get waved at and honked at a lot. Since we are American, we represent a way into the country and it took less than 2 days before someone suggested that they come to the U.S. with me.
I have tried more new food than I can name so far, and it is only the third day at work. I am not usually so receptive to new foods, and I have found that the secret is to try everything first, before I ask what the ingrediants are. It keeps me unbiased. We eat with our hands here, and that in itself is odd. Right now, the most difficult part of eating is persuading a Sri Lankan to eat first, so that Meg and I can learn how it's done.
Some of the guide books I read recommended that single women pretend they were married, and that they should come armed with not only a ring, but also a photo of the husband that they could produce at a moment's notice. I brought the photo, but not the ring, and maybe that was a mistake. There are very few caucasions in Hambantota, and we get waved at and honked at a lot. Since we are American, we represent a way into the country and it took less than 2 days before someone suggested that they come to the U.S. with me.
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