ABDF

Well, I feel a lot better today. Yesterday I was sick. Every year around this time I seem to get some sort of 24 hour virus. It’s a typical cold; fever, congestion, cough and some joint pain. Getting a cold in the tropics is miserable because with the fever you are never comfortable.

The breeze from the ceiling fan feels unnaturally cold and you shiver like there’s no tomorrow. But without the fan you feel like you’re burning up and you’re constantly covered with than icky sheen of sweat. So you have to decide which is the lesser of two discomforts. I usually go for the fan. Like with this time, I spend the day at home, drink tons of water, shower frequently (no, it doesn’t do anything to cure me, but feeling clean makes you feel better) and sleeping most of the day. And so today I’m almost 100% except a little congestion and a cough.

But enough about that.

On Sunday I went with Prabha to see our newly-completed water tank in Mangikkadu. I’m pleased to report that it had been filled for the first time four days prior, and was already been used. I was also happy that when the villagers turned out to say thank-you that there was no ceremony involved, just a small crowd that smiled and shook my hand.

I really like these water tanks. In a very real way they are much more useful than individual tube wells. A tube well will only help a few families, but a water tank is accessible to the entire community. Plus, when 100 households lack water, how do you decide who gets the well and who doesn’t? I might also add that most of the tube wells I’ve seen on the interior side of the lagoon, in places like Mangikkadu and Navatkuda, have dried up and are thus useless.

After viewing the water tank, Prabha and I went to see two more villages where we plan to put tanks. Seeing these places made me appreciate the usefulness of the tanks even more. At one village, Pallakuda, there is a huge deep community well. I looked down the thing and was astonished; it was dug deep, at least two or three stories down, all the way to the bedrock, which I could see because there was no water. I was told that as recently as two months ago, the water table had been only a few feet below ground level. I was amazed at how fast the water level fell between the end of the rainy season and now. At least 30 feet by the looks of it. Astonishing.

Equally astonishing was the fact that right now the villagers have to collect their water by bicycle from a source 2 kilometers (a bit over a mile and a quarter) away. This means ALL water, including water for cleaning and washing, not just for drinking. And having driven over the dirt “road” that services Pallakadu, I can only imagine the difficulty of riding a single-gear bike loaded with canisters of water.

There are 50 households in Pallakadu, and the Divisional Secretary has specifically asked us to build a water tank in the village. So this one is our next priority, when we get the funds.

At the second village, Shalampailkerny, I also looked down their communal well. Deeper than the well at Pallakadu but a lot smaller, there was still about three feet of water. Unfortunately ground water in this region tends to be brackish and thus not fit for drinking; only washing. Shalampailkerny does have two old UN-donated plastic water tanks, but they are pretty well worn out. The thing I noticed about Shlampailkerny is that other than a couple of palms and one tree, there is no shade in the village whatsoever.

As I mentioned, the Divisional Secretary is very keen on us building these tanks, and is very cooperative. I can see why. His office is trying to serve the local population, but is starved of funds. Our water tanks help him a great deal, by saving him both time and money. This is because instead of driving through each village everyday and waiting while residents run out to fill their pots and pans, the water truck instead can come and fill the tank, and then proceed on to another village. This is a win-win situation for everybody, and I like those.

Ironically enough, the Chinese government is sponsoring a huge water project intended to bring water from interior sources to the coast. On of the main pumping stations is within eyeshot of Shalampailkerny. And although the pipes are going to run through the region, none of these interior villages and hamlets will benefit; all the water is intended for the coastal strip on the sea-side of the lagoon. So while Batti will benefit, it does no good for anyone in the interior.

As an aside, I have to tell you that every time I go out to these villages on the land-side of the lagoon, I enjoy it more and more. Very few people speak even a lick of English, but they exude an open friendliness that can be quite charming. Folks in the interior tend not to be nearly as shy as they are on the coast, particularly the old ammas (mothers). I especially enjoy meeting them, the village ammas. They have been through a lot in their lives, but generally have a broad sense of humor and are brash, opinionated, and outspoken. They are, I think, the true powers in these villages. True, it would drive me crazy to live in the same house with one, but I do enjoy getting to know them. They are so strong, in their own way. The nearest comparison I can think of would be the Church Mothers in black churches in America.

A couple of letters back I mentioned getting stuck in one of these villages while one of my companions’ motorcycle was getting repaired. I described watching a rehearsal for a performance of the Ramayana, the ancient Hindu epic, and explained how unique these performances are. While in Mangikkadu I saw another such rehearsal. The village headman explained to me, through Prabha, that in fact these performances last all night from about 8 in the evening until 7 or 8 in the morning, and cover the entire epic. Given that in written form the epic takes two thousand pages or so, I can only assume that this is an abridged version. He explained that the performances are given on the Final Night of kovil festivals in the area, and that they are unique to the land-side villages; in Batticaloa they are rarely performed. So of course I expressed interest is seeing one of these, and Prabha said he will try and make arrangements (he will be out of town during most of the land-side festivals) and that it shouldn’t be a problem. That sure would be an experience: to be under the stars all night in one of these tiny villages, watching an age-old dramatic performance. What an opportunity! I can’t wait.

I’m happy to say that we have gotten enough funds to provide a second six-months worth of transportation for the handicapped kids at the Puhalidam school. My old friend Lara had provided the money for the first six months. Our goal was to provide a full years’ worth, and thanks to Albert in LA, we’re able to come through on our commitment. Thank you Lara and Albert!

In terms of other project news, our computer lab in Vantharamoolai is finished. Well almost; we’re waiting for the CEB (Ceylon Electricity Board) to connect the lab to the power grid. We HOPE that this will happen in the next week or so, but it really is beyond our control. So stay tuned on that.

So to close, other than my little cold and my water tank adventure Sunday, I don’t have much else to tell you. So until next time…