ABDF

Friday, May 09, 2008

Hi Everybody!

Yes, another dispatch. I last got you to where I had returned to Batti, after a long, hot bus journey. So now I want to let you know what’s going on here in Batti, as well as catch you up on our projects.

Well for one thing, summer is definitely here. It’s hot as all get-out, and humid! Whew! When the group left for Kandy two weeks ago to open the preschool in Panvila, it was getting warmer, but now…

For example, as I write this sentence, it is 9:06 on Friday evening. I just took a look at my handy-dandy thermo-humidity thing. It’s currently 84 degrees and 70% humidity. Doesn’t sound too bad, but consider that when the sun is up, it’s 10-15 degrees hotter. And I’ve said before, unlike in the West there’s no way to escape the heat; the only place with AC is the bank. So you’re stuck with the heat, all day and all night.

Which brings up sleep. Or trying to. Some of you have wondered how I can sleep, short of passing out from exhaustion. And since a couple of you have expressed interest in coming to visit me, I’d better let you know what you’re in for. So here’s what it’s like to try and sleep in Sri Lanka during the summer, where you only have a ceiling fan, unless of course the power goes out. Which it does at times.

I’m sure that the following description will make my friends who have been here nod in recognition.

To be honest, bedtime is my least favorite part of the day, and the one thing I regularly don’t look forward to. It’s because you never know, night to night, if it will be easy to fall asleep. Sometime you just conk out. Other times you toss and turn, trying to sleep, covered in sweat. And you never know what kind of night it’s gonna be. As a result, I tend to stay up much later than my Sri Lankan family. In Batti most people are in bed by 10. I usually toddle off to bed around midnight.

If you’re fortunate, you have a mosquito net. The advantage of the net is that it keeps the bugs off you and believe you me, there are more than mosquitoes that bite in the night. The problem with a net is that it isn’t perfect; if you sleep with your foot, for example, pressed against it, the bugs will reach down between the weave and bite you. Once or twice I’ve woken up with a perfect grid pattern on my foot. The other problem is that nets cut down the breeze from the ceiling fan by half, making sleep hotter.

On the other hand, if you sleep without the net and still want to avoid the bugs, you have to cover up completely. During the tsunami times, before Claire and Fiona lent me one of their nets, I was sleeping in socks, a sarong, and T-shirt and covering everything else in 99% Deet insect repellent. The problem with repellent is that in the middle of the night you often sweat it off. And especially if there is no ceiling fan, you lay their drenched in sweat. It can be really miserable, and in such cases you can’t sleep until exhaustion sets in.

Or you can do like Jordan did, and sleep in your shorts, and not worry about the bites. Not the option for me.

So those are your choices here. I have a mosquito net, and sleep in my shorts. For me it’s the best compromise between no insects and staying cool.

There’s a whole ritual to going to bed here. First, you take a shower. The longer the better, as it helps lower your body temperature, at least temporarily. I don’t wet my head, although that is very cooling, because wet hair under the ceiling fan makes me congested. I dry off quickly, so as to avoid the mosquitoes that live in my bathroom from biting me in the Tender Places. Then I slip on my shorts, turn off the light and, sitting on the edge of my bed, half squirm, half wriggle under the edge of the net, trying to prevent any insects from coming in with me.

Once in bed, I sit cross-legged in the middle of the mattress. I do this because I have to tuck all the edges of the net under the mattress; just letting the edge dangle will let the nasties in. I then feel my around the whole perimeter of the mattress in the dark, to make sure everything is tucked.

I have a tendency to stretch out when I’m sleeping, and so my feet always press against the net. To avoid more grid patterns, I double up an old kanga cloth I brought from Kenya, and put my feet in it. Makes my feet sweat terribly, but it also keeps them bite-free. And for whatever reason, the bugs ALWAYS go for the feet first: I’d say that 90% of the bites I get are on my feet, day or night. Perhaps it’s the sweat that attracts them. At any rate, at night I usually wrap my feet, which is less hot than wearing socks.

Then I finally lay down, spread eagle, trying to expose as much to the breeze of the ceiling fan. For the first few minutes, you feel nothing. Then it starts to feel very hot and sticky. It’s really uncomfortable, and you start to wonder if you can stand it. Then, after a while you suddenly you realize that you’re much cooler. Your sweat has begun to evaporate in the breeze of the fan, cooling you to a tolerable level. (This process also happens if you’re fully covered, but takes longer and seems hotter.) It’s at this point that you can sleep.

Of course you still sweat. I’m regularly woken up once or twice by the sensation of my sweat-soaked pillow on the back of my neck – really unpleasant. I wake up enough to flip the pillow then drift off again. I wish there was some trick I could do to prevent that icky feeling, but there isn’t. And wherever part of your body touches another, for example your arm as you lay on your side, also becomes slick with sweat.

All and all, sleeping here is not fun. If there were a reasonable way that was healthy to avoid it, I’d do it. It’s the thing I like least about living in Sri Lanka.

So it’s hot as hell here. What else? Ah yes, the election.

Tomorrow, Saturday, we’re having another election. The last was for municipal councils. This one is for provincial offices. And unlike the first election, this one is being actively contested by various parties, including a coalition of national opposition parties. As before, the government proxies are the TMVP, EPDP and PLOTE. This time, the SLMC (Sri Lanka Muslim Congress) has joined the opposition slate. There are two surprises this time.

First, the JVP, the pseudo-Marxist Singhalese-nationalist party is running. They are virulently anti-Tamil. I suppose they are trying to unite the Singhalese vote of the province, such as it is.

The other surprise is EROS, the Eelam Revolutionary (Something) Society. I thought they were dead – literally. They were one of the original armed Tamil militant groups back in the 70s and 80s, along with the LTTE, PLOTE, EPDP, etc. When the LTTE decided that they were the sole voice of the Tamil people, they told the other groups to disband and join the LTTE, or disband and become private citizens thereafter, or be killed. This was, I believe, the late 80s or early 90s. Some people left the groups and joined the LTTE. Some, like the leadership of the EPDP and PLOTE turned coat and allied themselves with the government for protection and influence against the LTTE. Mostly though, a lot of people were killed by the LTTE, even those who peaceably left politics. You see, the LTTE wasn’t about to let a reservoir of potential rivals threaten them from behind at some point in the future. Militias seldom keep their word. EROS members mostly disbanded and went home, and many were killed. My friend Izzadeen was a member of EROS; he survived because he was personal friends with the LTTE commanders in Batti area and had their respect, despite being Muslim. For many years EROS disappeared from view, and it was assumed that it was gone forever. Suddenly in the last month or two we’re seeing EROS election posters all over town. Izzadeen was asked to run for office, but he refused; he has a wife and child to worry about now and many politicians on the east coast traditionally have had short life spans. So EROS is back; like a case of herpes, political parties never entirely go away. They just lie dormant until conditions are right for a recurrence.

At any rate, this is an actually contested election, unlike March’s election, which was mostly government-allied candidates and a few token independents. This time there is real opposition. So Batti is pretty tense right now. Like before, I’ve been advised to stay at home (I’ve stocked up on food and water, “just in case”) but also like last time, I don’t intend to. Nero, one of the Synergy kids, has asked me to his home for lunch. He lives about a kilometer (0.6 mile) away, and in the opposite direction of town, so I figure it’ll be OK. And security and military presence is so high right now that I don’t think there will be any problems. The government knows the world is watching, and is determined to appear both in control and democratic. Which would be the perfect excuse for the LTTE to launch a symbolic high-profile attack. Hence the heavy security. Well, as I said, I’m not going to fret it too much; there’s nothing I can do one way or another.

So forget stupid politics, and let’s talk about some of our projects.

As I mentioned in my last dispatch, I received the books for St. Cecilia’s, and shipped them to Batti. I’m taking them to the school Monday morning. Now if we can only get them some computers for the English lab, we can then get them the English audio/visual software they so desire. However, to stock the lab with computers is beyond our budget, and our per project maximum. We’ve tried to get in contact with one organization, TechSoup, who provides such computers, but they’ve never responded to my emails. Anyone have any ideas? Or want to donate some computers? I can by a complete computer set-up here in Sri Lanka for under $400 each.

Thiraimadu is a tsunami resettlement village just north of Batti. In conjunction with the SFS, we’re helping to supply the residents with a set of coconut seedlings for each household. There are 1,000 houses. Due to circumstances, the scope of the project had to be scaled back; instead of 4 seedlings we can only provide two. Within five years the trees will bear fruit, and coconut is a major food source in Sri Lanka. So even just two coconut palms will help these folks a lot, in the medium to long term. Since the scope of the project changed, so too has the money, and so now the ABDF can afford to pay the purchase price of all the seedlings. The SFS is paying for nursery care (I had sent a picture of the seedlings with a past email), and will pay for transportation of the seedlings to the village. This particular variety of palm only needs six months of nursery care, and they have been growing for five. So next month we’ll take them for planting at the tsunami resettlement site. Then another project will be complete!

Depending on my schedule, I will go to Peace Village to check out progress on the road we’re providing materials for, on either Monday or Tuesday. The transport of the rubble from Kattankudy is almost complete, and maybe will be by the time I get there. So hopefully in my next dispatch, I can send a picture of the work.

You may recall the story I had about going to my friend Balan’s school to celebrate students passing their O-Level exams for the first time. I think it was three or four emails back. Anyway, the school, located outside Batti in the village of Kaluwankerny, received an in-kind donation of 12 computers last year. Since then, they’ve been sitting in their boxes, as the school has no money to set them up. I’ve received a proposal to do just so, and have agreed to fund the project. We will pay for the wiring, tables, chairs, etc. Since I believe that recipients ought to contribute to a project whenever possible, the kids will buy material for curtains to block the harsh sunlight, make dust covers for the equipment, and so forth. Balan has been really good about quickly giving me thorough information, as opposed to some other potential project partners, so I’m bumping this one up to the top of the list.

I had an emergency needs project come my way. It’s pretty heartbreaking. Just down the road from me, not ¼ mile, is a tiny corrugated shack behind a thatch fence. I’ve passed in a hundred times and never knew there was a house there. An old couple live there; the man is an Upcountry Tamil, and is a day laborer. Day labor is the hardest, lowest paid work you can get here. The wife is in really bad shape; she has one or more very serious mental conditions. She randomly has fainting fits, which sound like narcolepsy to me. She also regularly has seizures which, from the description, seems to be epilepsy. And for a day or so after these fits, she has a vacant, haunted stare. This I’ve seen myself, walking in the neighborhood and passing her in the street. I remember the first time I saw her, I wondered what was up.

Anyway, needless to say they’re dirt poor; I stopped by the house two evening ago and saw it for myself. Their shack is the kind you think of when you think of poor refugee-types; corrugated tin and sackcloth. The problem is that they have no source of water. And get this; the neighbors, in their infinite wisdom and compassion, think she’s possessed by demons, and no one will allow them to use their wells. Unfortunately such thinking can be common here. The couple came by the house when Siva was here, to ask for help. So I’ve decided that the ABDF will drill a house well on their postage-stamp property. A house well is exactly like a tube well, but the pump is smaller. It’s designed for household use, as opposed to the tube well, which can draw more water and is used in communal situations.

I took some pictures during my visit, but the light was really bad, so I’ll have to go again. But I’ll send some when I can.

Since it’s a house well, and since the water table in my neighborhood isn’t very deep, it looks like the well will cost under $100. I’m pushing to get this done ASAP.

I’m going to send out a separate email appeal on this particular project, but I figure I will ask here as well (no pun intended):

Of all my readers, can I get four of you to send $25 each to pay for this? If you can do this, send the check with a note saying something like “For the House Well” so Albert (our Treasurer) can take note. 100% of your money will pay for this well. And then send me an email, preferably with a picture so I can show it.

The address is:

The ABDF

PO Box 5548

Santa Monica, CA 90409-5548

For me this is a matter of deep compassion. I hope you see it that way too.

Of course I’m not gonna wait until I get the money to get the well done. The situation is too urgent for that. But the money will have to come from somewhere, which means from another project.

Please consider it.

Saturday, May 10, 2008 (the next day)

It’s Election Day, and all is quiet. It’s 8 in the evening (80 degrees, 75% humidity), and the polls are closed.

There have been no incidents in Batti District, as far as I’ve heard. In Amapra District, to the south of Batti and one of the three that make up Eastern Province, a bomb exploded in a hotel in Ampara town. However, no one is sure if it was political or criminal. In times like these, where political violence is just a breath away, a lot of criminal activity, organized or random, takes place that can be conveniently blamed on politics. The government’s first response is to blame the LTTE, but then sometimes it has to retract after investigating fully. This is why no one knows what really happened in Ampara.

Initial results are expected tomorrow AM, and although my friends had all voted, no one really thinks the government-backed parties will loose, even though everyone I know voted for the opposition. And while admittedly poor, before any of my American readers sneer at the state of democracy in Sri Lanka, they should remember that our own elections haven’t been without controversy, especially the recent presidential ones.

I had lunch today at the house of my friend, Nero. He lives just opposite the Mamagum Kovil, the biggest temple in town. After casting his vote, we went for a walk through the temple and its grounds. Today the temple was quiet and, more importantly, cool. It smelled faintly of ghee and incense. At the end of July this is the site of the biggest and last night of Temple Season. For a month each year, the various kovils around town have festivals and celebrations. It cumulates at Mamagum. Those who read my emails from the tsunami times will remember my description of the huge festival, complete with fire walkers, massive pujas, people with hooks in them, and a whole series of carnival-type attractions. Memories for Katie, Claire and Fiona, eh? It’s a ton of fun, and an experience of the senses, so I’m glad I’ll be here for it. Late July, if anyone is interested in coming for it. David?

So that’s it for the moment.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

B.

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