Final thoughts on Sri Lanka

There have been many ups and downs on this trip, but I can honestly say it has been mostly ‘ups’.  I feel very privileged to have glanced into the everyday lives of Sri Lankans.  I will never forget this experience and everything I have seen.  Above all I will never forget the people I have met and the kindness they have extended towards me.  I hope to one day be able to pay forward the generosity of the people I have met. 

Next stop: Cambodia!  

Tamil New Years

On last evening in Trinco Nixon was in town.  He invited me to go out for dinner and drinks to celebrate my time in Sri Lanka.  We met at the Green park hotel and first set about arranging my transport to Columbo for the following day.  Then we went to a local bar that Nixon often visits when he is in Trinco. It was a cute little place that had a “jungle” theme (I say that in quotes, because it was a very poor version of a jungle theme).   We shared a lot of beer and discussed my experiences at the clinic, his family, the differences between Western and Eastern culture, etc.  It was a nice way to finish my time in Sri Lanka. 

The next morning Nixon insisted on bringing me to the bus station.  He wanted to make sure I had someone to wave goodbye to from the bus.  I thought that was very sweet of him. As my backpack was tossed into the back of the bus (I cringed as this was being done, because I saw it was amongst boxes of fish and rice… which would be inevitably tossed about while on the bumpy roads…. Yummy, fish juices… agh), I hugged Nixon goodbye and thanked him for everything. 

I arrived in Columbo dusty, and tired from my 7.5 hour bus ride. It was not the best bus experience, as I was crammed into the back corner seat of the bus. However, I was thankful for actually having a seat.  Some people stood up for the entire ride.  For more than half of the trip I sat next to a man who insisted on sleeping all over the people next to him.  At one point he was almost lying on the man’s lap next to him.  I thought I was safe, but then he changed positions and then started leaning on me.  The next thing I knew his head was on my shoulder, and his hair was on my neck.  I had to constantly shrug my shoulder in an attempt to get him off me.  This did not work and finally I succumbed to having a strange man’s head on my shoulder.   This was the second time I had a man resting his head on my neck while on one of my bus trips.  The last time was on the bus from Jaffna to Trincomalee.  At the time, I thought nothing could be worse, but in fact it was better when he was sleeping than when he woke up.  While awake he tired to get me to buy him a Canadian visa, get my phone number, my email address, facebook, work for me, get me to find him a job in Canada, etc.  He was relentless.  When he finally left he gave me his business card and told me to call him.  

When I arrived in Columbo I was lucky enough to have a place to stay.  My Swedish friends gave me the keys to their apartment, as they had gone home to Sweden to get married, but insisted I use their place.  They live in the downtown core of Columbo, which was very handy.  It was so nice to come to an apartment where I could wash my clothes in a washing machine (7 weeks of hand washing clothes in bathroom sinks is not fun), make my own food, and relax at the roof top pool.

Unfortunately for me, it was Tamil New Years when I was in Columbo.  I thought this would be a fun time to see festivals or parades, but nothing was going on.  They don’t even serve alcohol during this holiday, and all the bars, restaurants, stores, etc are closed.    

A few weeks prior to my arrival in Columbo, I had met an American guy in Trinco.  I met him while staying at the Green park hotel.  We had dinner together one evening and arranged to meet up in Columbo to celebrate New Years. Gabriel was an extremely interesting guy; he went to ACAD (art school in Alberta), where he studied all sorts of very creative and interesting things (so cool).  I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Gabriel and the conversations we had. Gabriel lives in Portland, where he designs and makes puppets for the film industry (soooo cool).  He had come to Sri Lanka and rented a motorcycle to tour around on.  He showed me his trip pictures, talked about what it was like to drive a motorcycle in Sri Lanka and we talked about life as a Westerner in the East.  It was great fun.  Since there wasn’t any alcohol or bars open for New Years we celebrated over fresh mango juice and some yummy street food (I had vegetable kotthu, and he had some noodle dish).  

sorry folks... not really that many pictures from Columbo.  

Easter Sunday

Having not had enough of the luxurious atmosphere of the Chaaya hotel, I decided to return there for Easter Sunday.   I grabbed a tuk tuk from the Green park hotel, and headed over.  On route we passed a funeral procession.  First was a small tracker with a trailer filled with sand, with a man scooping out the sand onto the road behind.  This was followed by a couple of men sweeping the sand over the asphalt, a hearse with a casket hanging out the back door, and ended with men following behind the vehicle.  I was told the sand is believed to stop the spread of bacteria that the decaying body would produce.  

I spent the day reading my book and people watching by the pool.  When I grew tired of this, I switched it up for the beach.  Later in the afternoon, as I was packing up for the day, I noticed a huge commotion on the beach.  A large crowd of Sri Lankan men were gathering to bring in some fishing nets.  I had seen the nets being hulled in a couple of times now; I thought it was strange that men would be running over to help, as typically only 30 fish are caught in the nets.  So I decided to investigate.   As I walked over I saw piles and piles of fish on the beach, and more were being hulled onto the shore.  Lots of shouting was going on, as men were sorting out the fish, rinsing them in baskets in the ocean, weighing the baskets and loading them onto a truck.  

The previous day I had struck up a conversation with a man selling souvenirs outside of the Chaaya hotel.  He had asked me what I was doing in Sri Lanka, and I explained my volunteer work.  He quickly pulled out a certificate he had received for his service with the Red Cross during the war and the tsunami. He was very proud of his 7 years working for the Red Cross and was excited to share his experiences. When I was on the beach watching the fishermen pulling in their nets, my friend from the Red Cross greeted me.  He was wearing his Red Cross shirt and had a big smile on his face.  I made a joke about the irony of today’s catch being on Easter; it’s an Easter miracle, I said… but I am not sure he understood my joke, as he is Hindu.  My friend bought some fish, and invited me to come back to his hut to try his fried fish.  He said it would be the best fish I would ever have.  I tried to decline his offer, as I knew how poor he was, but he insisted.  So we went back to his “home” to prepare the fish.  I did not realize his home was the small hut that he sold his souvenirs out of.  (you can see it in the pictures, it is the small wooden shack in front of the pink building… he does not have any access to the pink house in behind).  When I asked where he slept he pointed out a bamboo mat that he rolls out at night to sleep on the concrete floor.  The hut is barely long enough for someone to lie length ways.   

Quickly my friend ran to his neighbors house to get a bucket of water to clean the fish.  He spiced it with some curry, and was already previously salted from the ocean. He cooked it up on a small camping stove outside his home.  

He pointed out two dogs that live outside his place. He said they were his pets.  He had adopted them after they had been dumped in the back alley behind his home.  They were only a few days old, and he nursed them with milk and has been feeding them ever since.  Another very interesting thing he did was neuter the dogs.  This is not a common thing in Sri lanka; stray dogs can be seen everywhere.  The sleep in the middle of the streets and roam the cities for food.  I thought it was very responsible of him.

As we sat and ate the fish he told me about his family which lives in Columbo.  He is trying to save up enough money to bring his wife and 3 children up to Trincomalee.  He also wants to rent out the pink house behind his place, so he can turn it into a souvenir shop.  He has to wait until the lease expires on the current tenant, before this can happen.  My friend from the Red Cross is from a family of 13 children, with 4 boys and 10 girls. He explained that it is the responsibility of the men in the family to ensure the women have a dourly and a house before they are married.  As a consequence, because he was one of the eldest in his family he did not marry until he was 38 years old, (which is quite late for a Sri lankan man), so that he could build the houses with his father and brothers.  

I thanked my friend for the tasty fish and he said to me: “it was my pleasure.  It will be an experience I will remember for the rest of my life”.  It was so sweet of this man to open his house to me, and share a meal together.  Definitely a memorable moment. 

Easter weekend, saturday

I decided to take a break from my travels and spend the weekend in Trincomalee.  The beaches looked so inviting and I didn’t relish the idea of taking another bumpy and dusty bus to another location.  Trinco is quite far in the north-east of the country, so anything worth seeing would be at least 5 or 6 hours on the bus.  

On Saturday I explored the hindu temple kali kovi.  This temple is located the peninsula in Trinco, within the an old Dutch fort.   It was build X yrs ago, and when the Dutch tried to colonize the area, they did not like the temple and pushed it off the cliff it was situated on, into the sea.  Many years later, in 1960s, a diver and archeologist  found it, and decided to restore it to is original location.

Hindu Temple over looking the Indian Ocean

I climbed the “mountain” (hill) to get to the temple on Saturday around noon.  This was not the best time to decide to explore, as it was very warm.  When entering the temple grounds you are required to remove your shoes/sandals.  Having tender white feet, that have enjoyed the protection of shoes most of my life, I found the pavement and cement extremely hot. I had to run from one shaded area to another, but still managed to burn the soles of my feet (they hurt even the following day).  

The temple was a one of the more beautiful sites I have been to.  It over looked the ocean and town of Trinco.   While I was enjoying the view I was offered some guava fruit (religious offerings for the gods and people to enjoy).  Off to the side of the temple I watched men go over to a cage filled with smashed coconuts.  They would bow their heads over the coconut, say a small prayer and then dramatically smash the coconut as hard as they could. I was told this is another type of offering/prayer. 

 

After dashing out of the temple (on-lookers thought it was very funny to watch me navigating the best way from one shaded spot to another… honestly, it was so hot the asphalt was melting in the sun), I headed into Trinco.  I passed by the fish markets, where fish were laid out in on blankets drying in the sun.  I grabbed a tuk tuk to the “fancy hotel” called the  Chaaya Blu, where I enjoyed the rest of the afternoon reading a book and soaking up some sun rays.  It was so nice to go to a beach were I could relax and not be harassed by men. 

Early morning Hindu festival

I woke up bright and early this is morning to join the local Hindu festival that was going to take place on Uppuveli beach.  Every year,  people come from all around to partake in the celebrations.  The local temple is a buzz of activity, and is dressed with lights at night.  There have been various events taking place throughout the week. Whenever I asked the hotel staff about what was going on, I didn't get much of an explanation, as it was beyond their English skills.  One morning I awoke to the thick smell of insense at 6:30 am.  When I went down to the hotel lobby the air was so thick from the incense it burnt your lungs, and the air was grey from the smoke. Almost as though there was a fire in the kitchen.

Hindu temple Kali Kovil at night

This morning I thought I would join in the festivities.  I flagged down a trishaw to take me to the beach, arriving shortly before 6:30 am.  Thousands of people were already gathered, and there dozens of boats floating close to the shore.  After about 20 min, a procession arrived at the beach; A group of men were carrying a statue on their backs, and there were some men playing the drums and clarinets.  The statue (which I was not able to get a great picture of, due to the crowds) was of a peacock and a lion.  These are considered sacred animals, as they are used for transporting the gods.

After the procession arrived, the statue was blessed with water and oils, and later brought under a canopy that was set up on the beach.  During the ceremony the music became more vibrant, and people started climbing into the waters, offerings of fruit and food were being thrown from the boats into the crowds, and people were splashing away.  

Michael (the Irsih man I work with) told me about the festival.  I had not looked forward to getting up so early, but I think it was worth it.

For my P&O readers.

I am a bit behind on this posting.  It is from my stay in Vavuniya.  It is a look at my volunteering at the Vavuniua General Hospital.  I look a few photos of the clinic area, the rectification (aka modifying room) area, as well as some of the devices I worked on with the guys at the clinic. 

No problem! Aton's favourite expression.  He can be seen in the foreground of the picture

The technicians were a fun bunch.  One guy, Aton, kept saying, "no problem" to everything.  I think they were the only English words he knew.  Aton was a very inspiring guy.  He travels by wheelchair 7km each day, with his hand propelled WC.  Another technician works as a trishaw driver on week nights and weekends to suppliment his income.   Most of the technicians were hired with disabilities and are in wheelchairs.  All had suffered a spinal cord injury from the war.  Mary had hired these guys to demonstrate to other Sri Lankans that people with disabilities can be contributing members to society and are willing to work.  This is a big statement for a country like Sri Lanka, where people with disabilities are generally seen as unemployable or considered only to be people that beg on the streets. 

Molded TT sockets, awaiting to be cut out.  The two Cambodian clinicians had cast 21 patients one weekend while up at an army clinic in the north.  Impressive to say the least!  While they were doing the clinic at the army camp, they told all the orthotic patients to come down to Vavuniya because they had a visiting orthoitic specialist who could see them... me?

Assessment and casting area

The biggest achievement was the Hyperextension brace we made for a L2 compression fracture.  Since we were limited on the materials we could find, I had to be creative.  I also wanted to make something that could be reproduced once I left.  We purchased some aluminum barstock from a local supplier.  However, it was not flat, but was something that you use to brace a the corner of a wall (as far as I can understand).  I hammered it flat on a anvil and covered it will EVA for comfort.   This was used for the cruciform components.  I took some thin metal sheeting material for the sternal and pubic pads (so that it could be moldable and formed to the shape of the chest) and covered it with EVA. I cut a lumbar pad out of plastic and heat formed it to the lumbar curve and lined it with soft EVA.  The guys at the clinic were very impressed with my resourcefulness, mostly because I used materials that were available to them and did not push foreign ways or materials.  The brace was a success and they will likely make it again.  The orthopedic surgeon was also very thankful and impressed with the speed at which we were able to make the brace for the patient.

Another brace I introduced to the guys was a thumb spica.  None of them had ever prescribed, seen, or fabricated one before.  The patient who we prescribed it for had a dislocating MCP joint;  whenever she flexed or extended her MCP joint or her DIP joint the MCP joint would dislocate.  It was very painful, and she would visibly jump with pain.  She could not functionally use her thumb.  The fitting of the tumb spica was successful and now she was able to perform a pinch grasp pain free.

I helped out with numerous other patients, with lots of other pathologies.  Things that I would never see in Canada.  For instance building a device for a leg length discrepancy of 12" for a 10 year old (never consulted a doctor before age 10).  KAFO for a child with a knee flexion contracture of 35 degrees and a plantarflexion contracture of 45 degrees.  It has been an incredible experience!

Safari trip in Habarana

Monkey business

Friday afternoon I recovered from a very stressful morning of whale watching, at the fancy hotel just outside of town.  I said goodbye to Hanna, Mary, Rachael and relaxed at the Chaaya Blue hotle.   All the wealthy Sri Lankans and foreigners stay at the Chaaya Blu hotel when they come to Trincomalee.  The hotel has some lovely grounds, a clean beach, and two pools to enjoy.  Other local foreigners also take advantage of the facilities at hotel, and the hotel does not say anything to the "non" guests so long as you buy a drink or meal.  I really like this location because the beach is so clean and  I am  not distrubed by the locals (aka men shouting at me "hello madame", sitting beside me, or taking my picture).
That afternoon as I was eating my hamburger (which was like heaven, because it wasn't rice), I met a group of 40 something Sri Lankan men playing cricket with their wives, girlfriends and children.   They were staying at the Chaaya hotel for their annual class reunion. Most of the men were born and raised in Sri Lanka, but now reside all over the world (Canada, Switzerland, Australia, and Norway).  They offered me drinks and wanted to know why I was in Sri Lanka.  I joined the group for a couple of hours and made some new friends.  Ian and Rebecca were the most friendly of the bunch, and are fellow Toronto-ians.  They asked about my plans for the weekend.  I explained I was thinking of taking the local bus to Habarana, to go on a safari to see elephants. Immediately Ian suggested they drop me off in Habarana, as they would be traveling through the town on their way to Columbo.  His wife said "gosh, you are brave to go on those old, dusty buses.  I couldn't imagine doing that!".  The group had rented a large coach bus for their trip and had lots of room for me.  I immediately said yes!  Yeah, for a/c and comfortable seats.  The journey would be at least 3 hours, so the comforts of a coach bus were very much appreciated.... not to mention less dusty!

Saturday I met my new friends at the Chaaya and we all climbed onto the coach bus, headed for the Cinnamon Lodge in Habarana (which is where I had arranged my safari out of).  It was a great bus ride.  I sat beside a lovely lady from Australia and she told me all about her family and her Sri Lankan husband.  I was everybody's friend, and it felt like I was a family member.  It was a hoot.  They were making dirty jokes on the sound system of the bus and teasing one another the whole way. 

I ate my lunch at the Cinnaomon lodge and enjoyed the luxurious atmosphere of the hotel before my safari started.  It was easily one of the fanciest hotels I have ever been to in my life. There were men greeting you as you arrived at the front entrance, dozens of bell boys wanting to carry your bag, pool boys offering drinks to the people tanning along side the pools, young men running around offering towels to the swimmers, waiters with towels hanging over their arm as they served their guests, pristine gardens and grounds, beautifully designed buildings, large trees hanging over the pool, teak furniture everywhere, etc.  It was something that you would see in the movies.  I was blown away to have found this expensive oasis in the middle of a very poor town.  I felt like an imposter in my ratty clothes.  I was expected to kicked out, but instead I was treated like any other wealthy person at the hotel.  It was amazing.  I asked how much the rooms cost per night; $150.  Not bad. I was glad to have been able to enjoy the hotel, however I was not so happy to have booked my safari from the hotel.  Since I was a single traveler the hotel said I had to pay for 2 seats on my safari.  They would not take a lone person out... I was told this was to cover the cost of gas.... total BS, but whatever! I later asked my safari guide about this, and he told me that was not true.. but a policy only the hotel has.  Grrr.

I met my guide at the hotel and I climbed into the jeep.  He was a very friendly guy, who was curious why I was traveling alone (apparently I should be with a man, more specifically my husband.  "Why are you not married"? is a common question I get). The safari started at 3pm.  This is not the ideal time to see wildlife, as it is still too hot.  The animals start to get more active either extremely early in the morning (like the rooster outside of my hotel in Trincomalee;  he starts his crowing at 4:30am), or later in the early evening when the sun is going down.  We drove around the park (I cant remember the name of the park as it is a smaller one, only 15 000 hectares) for several hours.  We did not go to Minneriya park (most famous for its safaris), because apparently the elephant activity was not as good this time of the year. My guide explained to me a few things about the local wildlife; he is not a naturalist, only a local resident who taught himself about the names of the animals and their habits,  so the explanations were so-so.

Here are a few things I learned:
-females have a box shape figure, and the males are more sloping/rounded
-males do not travel with the herd, but usually alone until mating season
-average elephant weight is 2.8 or 3 tonnes
-average elephant eats 240 kg per day
-a single pregnancy term is 22 months; average female has 5 babies, 1 every 3 or 4 years.
-elephants only eat new grass, which is one of the reasons they migrate to different water sources depending on the time of the year.    

After my safari was over, I asked my guide if I could be dropped off at the bus station.  He was very puzzled why I was not staying the night and why I would be taking a local bus alone.  He tried to convince me to stay in Habarana for the night.  He offered to have a BBQ together, go camping, and in the morning take a hike up into the mountains to see the sunrise.  It sounded very cool, as we would sleep in tree forts above all the animals below.   However, I was not sure if I should be camping overnight with a strange man.  I declined his nice offer, but he insisted I should come back next weekend.  He gave me his card and made sure that I call him.

While we waited for my bus, my safari guide and I had some tea at a local restaurant that was owned by his buddy... and later we had Sri Lankan beer called Lion.  We talked about his family, his job, and life in Sri Lanka compared to Canada. I asked about life during the war, his father who had been killed in the 2004 Tsunami, and about his work with the safari.  We discussed elephant attacks and stupid things that tourists have done to provoke the animals.  My guide said that elephants frequently charge the safari jeeps, but mostly because the drivers get too close the the elephants when a young calf is amongst the herd (which actually had happened that day when we were out in the jeeps; a mother had charged a jeep and the driver had to throw a water bottle at the animal to scare it away.. exciting). 

At about 8:30pm I finally climbed aboard the bus and left for my home in Trincomalee.  It was a 3 hour journey, along some very bumpy and dusty roads (all of which were under construction). Apparently they do not rebuild roads section by section, like in Canada, rather they tear up an entire road and take months and months to complete it.  I was on the bus for 3 hours, and about 2.5 hours of that was under construction.  My white capris were not so clean by the end of the trip.  No other woman was in sight, both on the bus or on the streets.  It seems that women do not travel at night.  I was the source of many stares, but everyone was very friendly and helpful.  When we arrived at the bus station in Trinco (this is what locals call Trincomalee), a young man ushered me off the bus, helped find a trishaw, and spoke to the driver in Tamil to make sure I would get back to my hotel.