Here we are now, Entertain us

The heat is beginning to get merciless. I'm losing the war with the mosquitoes. I've decided to blog.

I have been waiting until tomorrow actually, when possible developments may occur in regards to the lady in the previous entry. However, I realized that the last four days have been really been about me doing anything but work - and so I should represent that correctly.

So I want to tell you about Colombo kids and their party party party lifestyle. Of course I use "kids" loosely, because their age ranges into the 30s. Last Wednesday, I mistakenly thought I was going out for dinner with a couple of friends who had come down from Colombo. As with all great nights, I was in for the unexpected.

Colombo radio stations were sponsoring Goa-style parties on the beach. With Poya Day (national holiday) the following day, a couple hundred flocked to Unawatuna. Many made the 3 hour roadtrip from Colombo, with the intent to stay the following day.

Unawatuna is sworn by many to have been an oasis for independent, edgy travelers 6 or 7 years ago. As the crows attack anything edible, hotels and tourists now colonize the beach. (N.B: There is a difference between 'traveller' and 'tourist'). Taking a glass-bottomed boat, you'll no longer see vivid shocks of coloured-coral, but grey coral damaged by these tourist-purpose boats.

I have no previous memory to compare to, but I still see that offbeat charm about the place. There are quite a few boutique guesthouses, quaint little cafes, and side-to-side roadside shops selling colorful garments and souvenirs. Any glance at some of the murals on the walls is enough to clue in that someone was on a serious acid trip when they painted that. During the day, there's nothing better than to sip on juice at a beachside resto, with Bob Marley lulling in the background. By night, the atmosphere comes alive.

My experiences with Colombo Kids - that's forever how I'll refer to them - never fail to astound me. They are from elite backgrounds - spawn of politicians, businessmen etc. - having either gone to a Western-style international school, or one of the prestigious national schools They operate in an entirely different stratum from the rest of the country - socially and economically. At first I misjudged, thinking they were yearning to be Westernized - meeting up for coffee dates, referencing American TV shows, partying like what I thought people only in the West know how to. But I was wrong. They have carved out their own tailored made culture - one fit for their location. They seem to be more liberally-minded than the Sri Lankan diaspora communities in general, and partying is a big part of their lives. 

There are several clubs in Colombo - but the beach party is a manifestation of a different kind of festivity. As I stepped out onto the sand at Unawatuna on Wednesday night, dance beats were thumping, strobe lights were teasing the black skies, and masses of people, many in "I <3 UNA" t-shirts, were out celebrating the night of the full moon. I still can't get over being able to feel the ocean seep between your toes while hearing Cobain chant "Hello, Hello, Hello, How Low" to a fast techno beat. But the alcohol might have had something to do with that. 

Among the crowd, there were many Sri Lankans and tourists. I overheard one guy say to the other, "Machang (bro), there's so many chicks, it's like a farmhouse on the beach". In my opinion, there were far more guys - but then again there's always a majority of guys at any clubbing event in Sri Lanka, I think the guy was just being relative - and a little excited at the multitude of blonde Russian girls.

I didn't stay until the end, but I was still on the beach at 8am, and I could still hear one of the parties (there were 2) throb away with its bass. 9am was when it was officially over. I totally understand why people stay the following day - it's because there is no better way to recover than by lying on a beach by an ocean that sparkles topaz blue. As I observed, I saw the grinders and rolling papers come out, the JD bottles twist open, and the Sri Lankan guys wander over to the deckchairs of unsuspecting white girls to make "friendly" conversation before heading back for work the next day. There's a party like this at least once a week and for the hedonistic Colombo Kid - a chance to blow in one night, the monthly salary of a domestic worker, like the lady working at the Elders' Home.

Paradise Exists Nowhere

I don't know what to do - I feel pretty useless. Today at the elders' home I was playing Connect 4 with one of the staff members. I realized that they need some recreation time as much as the elders - for their work is demanding and the days drone into one another.

I was having a casual conversation with her, in broken Tamil, and she seemed fascinated about Canada, my Sisters, how I'm not married. All of sudden, out of nowhere, she broke down into tears. She could no longer uphold the brave face she was trying to. Her husband gets drunk and beats her. She could barely talk, but when she could her story came out - she's been married since 15, now 39. Her two sons are married and though she loves them, they ignore the problem as they are scared of their Dad. She says she has no one else to live with. Fighting back my own tears, I asked her to stay at the Elders' Home which is run by a Nun.

She says she has been staying here since the beginning of February, and her husband has been searching for her. However she is miserable, as apparently all the staff are - because the Nun overworks them and verbally abuses them. All staff work 7 days of the week, and this lady wakes up early to cook all meals. Feeling hopeless, I suggested maybe enquiring to see if another cook could be hired for 8,000 rupees a month ($80 - the going rate). She was very pessimistic that the Nun would want to spend more of the money coming in from the elders, hinting at possible corruption. Might explain why Sister F doesn't seem too enthusiastic when the volunteers arrive.

Ofcourse the corruption accusations are based on just her words. I even questioned if she had an alternate motive in telling me all this. But I concluded, it is no doubt that she is a victim of severe domestic abuse, and she genuinely didn't ask for anything from me. Language barriers disallowed me to truly scope the situation.

I would appreciate any suggestions you have in working around this.
I'm taking this on as my mission to make this situation at least a little better. I felt hopeless, all I could do was hug her tightly, and source into the same river of tears.

Arrival in Galle, South Sri Lanka

Mock the blog name all you want. I'm sure there are at least 10,000 Sri Lankans who have named everything from their blog to their cat, "Serendipity". Add the fact that my family thinks I'm cuckoo for coming out to Sri Lanka by myself, and voila --> Seren-Stupidity.

So here I am. In Sri Lanka. To break it down, I'm here to:

a) Volunteer. Analyze some of the work being done, and evaluate the work to be done.

b) Gauge the post-war economic and social situation. I'll be making my observations literally in the North, East, South, West of the island.

c) Find a suitor.

d) Only joking.

e) Travel/ explore/ learn, and let you know of anything worth mentioning.

N.B: I have been briefed by my oh-so-loving family that should a ransom be placed on my head, no one shall be paying. So I'll save the chunk of my commentary - the political stuff - for when I get back.

***

I touched down in Colombo on February 4th, Sri Lankan Independence Day. I learned that 1,300 petty offenders had been released from prison to commemorate the day. Woohoo! Let's celebrate with another 1,300 reasons to clutch my purse tighter when I ride the bus.

Driving from the airport with my Uncle, I got the lo-down on the general mood of the public. The price of living has rocketed, and even the middle class is feeling their pockets burn. For example, in recent months, the cost of an egg has gone from 10 to 16 rupees, and they are now being imported from India due to shortage. More astounding, the price of a coconut has gone from 25 to 60 (240% increase!). The next day after my arrival, a Saturday, there was a 12 hour planned water outage. Those fortunate had water tanks.

That said, Colombo is astonishingly different to what it was just 2 years ago. Checkpoints have almost entirely vanished. The streets are filled with people. When I was here back in 2008, people really thought twice about leaving their home. Checkpoints peppered the city, and hearing a bomb go off wasn’t out of the norm. Today, that cloud of fear has moved on and out. If I feel like a walk, I go for a walk. I can get snappy with my camera on the streets, unlike before, when I was forbidden from using it; as to not create suspicion from patrolling soldiers.

***

I've spent 4 working days so far at the Volunteer Sri Lanka Project in Galle, run by Janaka de Silva.

I live with about 15 other volunteers, from England, Scotland, The Netherlands, Switzerland, The Czech Republic, Australia, and China. Everyone comes with their own unique story, skill, and interest in volunteering in Sri Lanka. We eat breakfast together around 7.30am, head off to our various work-spots, meet back for lunch, head off again, and reconvene for dinner.

The most moving place I've been working at is the Ruhunu Orphanage. I cannot begin to describe the soaring emotions I get when I enter the place, and see about 40 kids standing in their cribs, clutching onto the sides, either smiling inanely or crying just to be picked up and hugged. They are aged from newborn to 2. Most of them have been abandoned, and thus by law can never be adopted as they were never signed over to the authorities. Some of them have come from abusive homes, a lot of them have come from parents of drug addicts. Their life at the orphanage is far from a sanctuary from their traumatic pasts. The staff are unmotivated, leave the children in unchanged nappies for hours, cane the kids for playing in the wrong area, and feed them multitudes of chocolate. Worst of all, the diapers the volunteers have given, in replacement to the cloth used, have been sold on by the staff to pharmacies to the point where we now keep them at our house and take them each time we visit. The staff are hostile to us, which makes things difficult. The children, especially those from the abused homes, have come out of their shell tremendously since the beginning of the volunteer project, first standing frozen and now running around and playing with confidence. There is also a 13-year old with cerebral palsy under our care. Though there is staff 24/7, we help out by changing nappies, giving the children a bath, and giving the much needed affection to the children.

I've also been volunteering at an elderly home - where I change beds, and mop floors as the place is understaffed, and play cards and bingo with the elders. They are the sweetest people I've ever met. I've also been doing conversational English with Nurses. Some of the volunteers are trained nurses and physios so they do more technical training with the nurses. One of the volunteers, Penny, a posh British lady in her 60s, who's brimming with energy is a part-time Yoga instructor. So while she's been doing that with the nurses, I've joined in too. I also teach swimming to deaf girls - and trust me, this is more fun than work, but it gives them a chance to let loose and enjoy themselves.

A lot of the volunteers have commented on the fact that they thought the kids they were helping would have been in dire need of their help. This is true with the orphans, but for the most part the children are from a dual-parent, and able home. We are simply enhancing what they already have, and this has been a criticism of mine - but I guess it's a transition into more intense volunteer work. For instance, I assist a school teacher with her class of 30 children. At first I thought, "what am I doing here?". And then I realised how much work she has on her plate, and that me marking homework for her meant she had less to do when she got back home, so it wasn't a complete waste.

The other volunteers are fascinating. The Australian is a professional photographer who has worked for Vogue and Marie Claire. Penny, the Brit, worked in Malawi for 7 years running an S.O.S orphanage. The Scot, who is my age, is a Maths graduate who grew up in Ethiopia. And yet all have fallen in love with this Island, as I have. We plan trips in the weekend. Last weekend we went to Sinharaja Forest on Saturday. Quite a few times, I head to Unawatuna Beach, and chill out, take a swim in the sea, and read my book. As volunteers we get free access to the beach resort - Janaka, the Volunteer Manager is also the Manager of the hotel. I have 2 and bit more weeks here, and I'm sure I'll have more to write about.