ABDF

I arrived in Batti last night after a long 8 ½ hour van ride across the island. It was good to get back to the house here and see my Sri Lankan family. But I’m putting the horse before the cart, so let me start with last Tuesday.

My flight out of LA was delayed two hours. The announcement brought groans from my fellow passengers, but it didn’t bother me; my layover in Heathrow was 6 hours, so it meant that much less of a wait for me. I did manage to sleep most of the 10 ½ hour flight thanks to a sleeping pill and a glass of wine.

The wait in Heathrow wasn’t too bad. Terminal 4 has lots and lots of restaurants and shop selling goods at exorbitant prices, but walking around and looking is free. Surprisingly, my Sri Lankan Airlines flight left on time, and arrived on time in Colombo.

I arrived in Colombo around 1:30 in the afternoon last Thursday. The airport itself is located about 35 km (about 25 miles) north of Colombo and takes an hour to drive from. Colombo and its environs have a ramshackle half-built look to them. Buildings are generally made from unpainted, unadorned concrete and the streets are in a constant state of repair and disrepair. The only nice area is called Cinnamon Gardens, the old colonial era ritzy neighborhood, but even then most of the houses are behind high compound walls. Nope, Colombo ain’t a pretty city. No quaint architecture, no sweeping vistas, no grand central squares, nothing like you see in beautiful cities around the world. Colombo is pretty much utilitarian, and even at that things are barely functional. And given the state of things here in Sri Lanka, the city has been let go more than usual.

In fact, since last year, things have taken a steep and sudden downhill turn. Inflation is now at 24%, and the poor are finding it increasingly difficult to buy the basics. Industry has taken a big hit, both from the current war situation as well as cheaper competition from places like China and India. The government response to all this has been to print more money and hope for an early victory in the war.

The war is the only bright light for the government, and even that must be taken with qualifications. Yes, the Liberation Tamil Tigers of Elam (LTTE) was kicked out of the east of the country last summer, and yes, the government has been very good at putting the squeeze on the LTTE by cutting off external supply routes and intensive artillery and bombing. But in terms of taking land from the rebels, that has slowed down to a crawl. The LTTE is now fighting a defensive war, and it has become more and more costly for the government to continue. Thus all resources are channeled to the war effort, and the economy is left to flounder. The government promises to take all rebel territory by the end of the year, but many feel this to be an impossible goal.

But anway, back to me in Colombo. I stayed for three nights at the house of my friend, Jeewan, as I always do. I spent Friday and Saturday running about Colombo taking care of errands. I got my visa extended, registered with the US Embassy, and so forth. I’ve gotta say, getting things done in Colombo is an exhausting experience. It’s not like in the West, where you hop into your car, and drive here and there, taking care of business. Here, you have to flag down on of those three wheelers (called a tuk-tuk) that swarm the street, and negotiate the price to your location. Then it’s off through the hazy traffic to your destination. I say “hazy” because as far as I can tell there are no pollution controls here in Sri Lanka. As a result the streets are filled with fumes. And those tuk-tuks are open on the sides, making you ground level and in direct line of the exhaust pipes of the busses and trucks. Given that traffic is very slow stop-and-go, it is common to get bulls-eye blast after blast of diesel exhaust. For me, it takes but a few minutes for my throat to get irritated and I start to cough. You really can feel it in your lungs, throat and eyes.

Once you arrive at your destination and the tuk-tuk driver is paid, then you have to locate the room or office you need, and get your business done. Lines don’t really happen here; queuing is more of a hope or suggestion than a social norm. So you gotta be aggressive and not let anyone cut in front. And when they do, you’ve got to shame them loudly into getting to the back of the crowd. Generally speaking, people here are helpful, although you do come across the occasional bureaucrat-type who so obviously would rather be elsewhere.

So once you’ve conducted your business, you push your way back to the street to hail another tuk-tuk for your next errand. Basically, what would take a couple hours in the West takes all day here. On Friday I had a list of 6 things to do and it took all day to do 5 of the tasks. Pretty good, I thought.

Needless to say, my real love is Batticaloa (by the way, pronounced ba-tick-low; Batti for short) and not Colombo. And so I try to get out of Colombo ASAP. I hire a Batti friend, Natallaratane, who owns a van, to come to Colombo and drive me to the east coast. He charges me a fair price for the trip which for him is a two-day trip there and back. Here’s a measure of the economy for you: in 2005, right after the tsunami, it cost about $100 for the trip. Last year it cost $140. This time it cost $170. And gas is so expensive here, more than what we pay in the US, that almost half of that $170 went to fuel. I know; I watched him gas the van up.

I suppose I could have taken the train and saved a bunch of money, but I was juggling so much luggage, and the train doesn’t have baggage service, that stuff would have gone astray. However, the only time I hire a van is when I first return to Sri Lanka; I can’t afford to do it regularly.

At any rate, Natallaratane is a really good guy, fun to be around, and so I don’t mind paying him the money.

We did the 8 ½ hour drive yesterday, Sunday, leaving at 9 in the morning. I prefer driving during the day (versus overnight) because I can really see the land as we drive by. You start out in the loud, packed, frenetic, smog-filled streets of Colombo. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you enter the outlying districts of Colombo where the traffic thins out and there are no buildings more than 2 stories high. Eventually you reach the countryside. There are few wild open spaces in Sri Lanka; the island is densely inhabited, and almost all the space between towns is filled with farms. (This isn’t true for the north and east of the island, but more on that later) The land is extremely fertile (again, except for the east and north) and filled with lush green rice paddies, coconut plantations and the like. In fact, as I’ve mentioned before, the rice paddies can be so brilliantly green that in direct sunlight it can almost hurt your eyes. It veritably shimmers. I have never seen such vivid intense greens.

Once you reach the center of the island, the altitude rises and the foliage starts to change. It’s a little drier in the center of the island, and so there are fewer rice paddies but more orchards and plantations. The towns are also a little further spread out. On the road to Batti there are even a couple of stretches, several miles long, where you actually go through jungle. It’s pretty cool to be under the high shady trees. I’ve seen troops of monkeys along the road, and on this particular trip a wild elephant moseying down the side of the road, unafraid of the vehicles or the people driving them.

Once you hit the eastern third of the island, things change dramatically. The land is low and flat and much, much drier. The jungle ceases to be high trees and becomes palm and low scrub brush. The soil ceases to be a rich loamy brown and becomes a sort of tawny sandy dirt. Rice and coconuts are still grown here, but it requires a lot more work to get the same yield as elsewhere.

Also, once you are in the eastern third of the island, you slowly begin to transfer from Singhalese areas to those dominated by Tamils. The signs become trilingual – Singhalese, Tamil, and English.

When you finally enter the Tamil area, you know you’re there. First, the quality of the road, never very high to begin with, deteriorates abruptly and remarkably. I mean it’s like you cross the border into Eastern Province and BOOM! the road goes to crap. The upkeep of infrastructure has never been a priority in Sri Lanka – past governments have tended to react only when things completely break down – but this is especially true in Tamil areas, especially since the civil war got going in the early 80s. What little political will there was to keep things up in Tamil areas evaporated completely. So in the East, the roads are crap, the electrical grid is ca-ca doo-doo, the schools get almost no resources, government agencies, such as they are, are under funded, and almost all positions of import are held by Singhalese bureaucrats who don’t speak Tamil, couldn't care less about Tamils, and are merely putting in their time until a better position opens up elsewhere.

But you REALLY know you’ve entered the Tamil part of the country because suddenly you see the military everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE. All vehicles going in and out of the province are searched, and everyone’s information is taken down (except for me; as a foreigner, I’m not considered a security risk). There are military checkpoints every 10-15 kilometers (about 12 miles) or so; you have to stop at each one, and the soldiers look at you to decide if you are somehow suspicious. With me, they smile and wave me through, but locals can get into serious trouble just because they fit some criteria that no one seems to be able to define. The roads themselves are patrolled by soldiers; you see them spaced out every 100 meters (yards) or so, fingers cocked on their AK-47s.

To be honest, I kind of feel sorry for those guys. Not the military higher-ups, of course, but the lowly foot soldiers. The military is something like 98% Singhalese, mostly made up of young men from the impoverished South. Joining the military is the only way these boys can crawl out of poverty. So then they are given a modicum of training, an automatic machine gun is put in their hands and they are shipped out to a place where they don’t speak the language, it’s essentially a foreign culture, and the enemy looks exactly like the civilian population. So then they go out on these 10 hour-long patrols along some stupid stretch of road in the middle of nowhere, and have to stand within shouting distance of their comrades. And what do they do all day? Just stand there and watch the traffic for “suspicious activities.” How very boring! And yet how very scary too; the Tigers have no uniform and specialize in guerilla tactics, so the people in the next vehicle coming down the road might toss a grenade at you and you’d never see it coming. That next motorcycle or bus or bicycle could bring sudden death. Or maybe not. Can you imagine dealing with that combination of boredom and fear, day in, day out? I know I’ve said this before, but I’m gonna say it again: shades of Vietnam, anyone?

The road eventually leaves this dry jungle area and follows the coast south into Batticaloa. Here the population becomes dense again; I estimate that 75% of the population of Eastern Province lives in this coastal strip no more than 10 miles wide. You pass through towns and villages, mostly Hindu with Muslim communities scattered amidst. There are roadblocks and checkpoints between them all, and the final 50 miles or so can take two hours to get through. But eventually, tired and with a sore butt, you reach Batticaloa.

I live in a residential section called Sinnauppodai, which translates into “Little River” or “Little Lagoon,” depending on who you ask. And, in fact, there is a small saltwater lagoon surrounded by palm trees. Many of you have already seen the pictures. I live right across from it, on the second floor of a two story residence. The family I stay with lives on the first floor. I have a room with a bed (that’s about it) and a bath. The second story has a huge veranda overlooking the lagoon. It’s a fabulous view. It also picks up any breeze that might blow by, which during the summer can be a great relief.

Right now, however, it is the tail end of the monsoon. So far it has been a little cool at night and somewhat warm during the day. The humidity has been relatively low (this morning it was 60%) and so right now it is comfortable. In a few months it will be very hot and VERY humid. So for now I will enjoy the mild weather.

I am feeling quite well; to my amazement, I did not automatically come down with a case of traveler’s diarrhea, as always has happened before. I haven’t done or eaten anything different from before; perhaps it means my body is finally building up tolerance. I do seem to be allergic to something in Colombo, where it is still quite rainy. As soon as I got there, I had a runny nose and sneezing. Now that I’m in Batti, it seems to be going away. As always, my feet are proving my Achilles’ Heel. Upon my arrival, right on schedule, they have swollen up to the point where I can’t see my ankle bones. This happens every time, and every time I go to the doctor, who gives me a pill and a week later the swelling is gone. I have no idea why this happens. Eh, well, if that’s the worst of it, I’m doing well!

So my friends, that’s how things stand at the moment. There’s a lot more to tell you about, but I’ve got to get moving and run some errands, including sending this out. So expect to hear from me again quite soon. My best to you all!

xoxoxoxoxo

B.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 4th, 2008 at 7:01 pm and is filed under Letter from Batticaloa. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.