ABDF

Hi everybody!

Well, since my return to Batticaloa last week, I’ve been concentrating on our projects, and can report a lot of progress. It’s really great when things start to come together.

I delivered the donated books to St. Cecilia’s Girl’s School on Monday. After all nine boxes were brought into the English Lab, a group of girls came in to help unpack them. Well, it didn’t take more than a minute before all the boxes were opened and the contents being closely examined. While I would love to fill the whole room, top to bottom with books, those books we donated easily quadrupled (or more) the number of books in English at the school.

Sister Elizabeth, the school principal, was enormously pleased, but the girls a bit disappointed that they couldn’t borrow books right off; Kala, my partner in this venture and a teacher at the school, wanted to go through and sort and list the books first. However, as of Tuesday morning, the books were ready for borrowing.

I myself appreciated the lack of ceremony that accompanied the delivery of the books; Sister Elizabeth had even wanted to call out the school band, but Kala calmed her down, thank goodness. So what ceremony there was consisted of a lovely little speech read by one of the girls, me ceremonially handing out a couple of books for a good picture, and a short speech by me telling the girls that the books were personal donations by my family of their childhood books (I showed them a couple family pictures) and then I thanked the girls for giving us the opportunity to share our books with them. It was simple, sweet, heartfelt, and very importantly, short. No speeches in Tamil!

Yesterday, Tuesday, I went to Olikulam, where the Peace Village tsunami resettlement village is located, to see the progress of the road we’re helping build. I’m happy to say that our part in this endeavor is just right; the hauling of material from Kattankudy is 25% done, and has cost exactly 25% of our budget for the project. Couldn’t be more spot-on. The ABDF is paying for rubble to be brought from Kattankudy to Olikulam. The houses along the road-to-be are grouped into sets of five; each group must contribute labor, by all members, in sorting and transporting the rubble to their appointed section of the road. I like this. When the recipients contribute in some way, however big or small, to a project, they feel ownership of it, rather than something that is just plopped into their laps. So when this road is complete, it’ll be their road.

Once the rubble has been completely transported, the village then faces the challenge of finishing the road. If I understand correctly this involves one of those giant, heavy roller vehicles to squash and grind everything down, then covering it all with gravel, then the roller thing rolls over everything again. The ABDF can’t pay for this part itself, but I’ve pledged to help them find other sources of funds, as this is part of our mission here (that is to say, helping local groups help themselves). I think the fact that the village will already have the raw materials on hand will make finishing the project an easy sell. Hey – anyone into road building?

You all will hopefully remember our coconut seedling project. This is where we’re going to supply two seedlings to each of 1,000 houses in the new tsunami resettlement village at Thiraimadu. Well today I paid off the cost of the seedlings, so those seedlings are now officially OURS. We’re going to transport and distribute them next month.

In my last email I talked about the sad story of the old couple who can’t get any water from their neighbors. I know my appeal was sort of buried at the end of the dispatch, but so far I’ve gotten one response for $25 (Thank you, Princesses Bit!) and I still hope to hear from some more of you. At any rate, the well goes in tomorrow starting at 8AM: I will monitor the progress, and send pictures.

So now on to other things.

Tragedy has struck the extended family. Yesterday the grandchild of Siva’s father’s brother drowned. They own a house next to the Mamagum kovil, which I described in my last email. On the temple grounds is a lotus-covered pond. The family in question lives on this pond, opposite the kovil. I’m not sure how it happened, but the little boy, only two years old, was found floating in the water. By the time the pulled him out, he was already dead. When I got home last night from Izzadeen’s around 9, the house was dark and quiet. I immediately knew something was wrong, as there is always family in and out and about the house. An aunty living next door, who was the only one around, explained the situation to me. Poor thing.

Today was the funeral and, unusually, the boy was cremated. In Sri Lanka, cremation is a very rare thing, even among Hindus. In India, as we all know, Hindus cremate their dead, most famously at the burning ghats in Varanasi on the river Ganges. In Sri Lanka the dead are buried. I once asked why and was told that yes, ideally, Hindus should burn their dead. But in Sri Lanka this was an extremely costly thing to do. It makes sense. Hard woods are very rare in Sri Lanka, the island being so tropical. Tropical woods don’t burn hot enough or long enough. Thus only very special persons are cremated. For example, Siva’s father, being very highly regarded for his musicianship across the island, especially with sacred temple music, will be so honored. It’s an interesting adaptation of something so religiously vital in the face of practical circumstance.

I wasn’t invited to the funeral, which is probably just as well. I’m not sure it’d have been appropriate for me to intrude upon such deep and personal grief. I know that branch of the family a little, and I feel very bad for them, but it would have felt a bit like “car-crash” voyeurism for me to attend. Plus its one thing to witness the cremation of an older person, quite another that of a two year old, I would imagine.

On a lighter note, I’ve noticed a silver lining to all that rain I was complaining about a month or so ago. It might be my imagination, but it seems that there are a lot fewer mosquitoes than normal. I seem to recall reading that mosquitoes need to have still water for their eggs to mature. Agitated water apparently cuts the eggs off from oxygen, as the eggs float on the surface. (This is also why one effective counter-measure is to put oil in standing water; the film keeps the eggs from breathing.) It seems to me that the cycle was disrupted, as the rain kept agitating the water, thus asphyxiating the eggs that had been laid. At least I hope so. I’m sure that the mosquitoes are now still laying their eggs and new generations will soon arise, but for now, at any rate, there seems to be a respite from their attentions. Knock on wood.

Thursday, May 15, 2008 (the next day)

I just got back from Kattankudy, it’s seven in the evening and meltingly hot. On top of that, we’re in low current time (7-9PM) and so the ceiling fan only works at quarter strength. Ugh. I took a shower as soon as I got home, but the water seemed hardly any cooler, and I’m still sweating like a pig. I just gulped down a full liter of water, so that should help.

So today I had installed the house well at that older couples’ shack. It only took 4 hours to dig. It was also cheaper than expected, so now I only need two folks to send me $25. Unfortunately, the couple wasn’t home, so while I got some pics of the well being dug, I don’t yet have any of the recipients pumping water. Hopefully tomorrow.

I also spent some time in Kattankudy doing some shopping, namely for a motorbike. Up until now, and in the past, I’ve had to rely on either tuk-tuk, which gets real expensive real quick, or lifts from friends, which are on their schedule and thus often at bad times. I finally have the money to buy the ABDF a motorbike, so I can conduct business quicker and in a timely way. It will also enable me to more easily visit project sites out of town. The problem is finding a good safe bike for me at a reasonable price. I’m currently in negotiations with a guy down in Kattankudy, and I have my eye on a nice sturdy used bike. Negotiations continue Saturday (Friday being the Muslim day of rest) after my mechanic takes a look at it. The man wants 150,000 rupees (about $1,500) for it, a bit more than I’m budgeted for. I think I’ll get him down to 120,000, although it will take some time and pressure.

Fortunately, his cousin (or maybe second cousin – it gets confusing) is Firthous, husband of brain curry Aneesha, and they are my primary partners at the Olikulam Peace Village project. So with Firthous at my side, I’ll appeal to his sense of pious charity; whatever below price he goes down, I’ll use the savings to supply the school at Peace Village. After all, charity is one of the five pillars of Islam. Since I know that the village headman at Peace Village will be giving me a proposal for just that, in a month or two, I hope to kill two birds with two stones, in a manner of speaking. I’ll let you know if the strategy works.

OK, so I’m going to wrap this one up, and send it out when the power goes back up.

xoxoxoxoxo

B.