This is Jaffna.

This is exactly why I haven't been wearing any jewelry here. Yesterday in Uduvil, Jaffna, a WOMAN attacked a woman, by severing off her ear with a knife so that she could steal her gold earrings. A few days earlier, a Jaffna-born man from Canada had come back to avenge his ex-wife who had fled with another man and their child. Her punishment: murder. Also in the last few days, a child around 5 years old has been admitted to hospital after her father raped her, as "punishment" to her mother for going off with another man. These stories of course speak of the darker side of Jaffna life. These last 10 days I've been settling in the everyday normalcy of it.

It has gotten to the point now where it doesn't even occur obscure to me that I'm waking up to the cock crow; "showering" from a bucket; opening the window to find a cow trudging along; using the light from my phone to walk around the town at night. Having to hand wash all my clothes has made me miss home even more. Especially having to shower and change clothes 2 to 3 times a day, the washing is cumbersome work. The other night, I went to charge my camera while my laptop was charging. The very millisecond I tapped on the switch, darkness eclipsed. The electricity had gone out. I soon realized I was responsible for all the surrounding houses too. I called my new friend in the neighbouring village. She informed me their electricity had just cut out too. Ooops. Major oops. Power cuts here are quite frequent. Another point that's making me miss my cushy life in Canada is the creepy crawlies. The other night, I swear something resembling a flying cockroach was zipping around my room. Around midnight, gripped with terror and unable to sleep, I went and got my Uncle who was happily snoring away. He laughed at it, poked it with a broomstick so the creature could fly somewhere else in my room, and went back to bed. I realized I was all alone in the world. Only I could save myself. My rite of passage came as I smacked the sh!t out of it with my Bata slipper.

This is the first time I've come to Jaffna not as a tourist, but to immerse myself in daily life. I've been staying with my Aunt, Uncle, Cousin who is deaf, and his wife who his deaf. This past week I've been volunteering at 'Deaf Link'. This is a project that is part of the Methodist Church Mission, but is blind to religion in its work. Recognizing the severe lack of social services in Jaffna for those who are differently-abled, the project caters for very poor children who have learning difficulties due to deafness, autism etc.

I've been taking the bus everyday to work. There is no other way to describe this experience other than that Disneyworld could open a ride called, "The Sri Lankan Bus"; though of course it wouldn't pass any of the safety standards. Blaring music, bursting with passengers, and one maniac driver, my 10 minute 767 bus ride from Navaly to Udavil makes me think every single time, "this is it. It's been a nice life. So long world." It is actually less hell-raising to go by motorbike, and you will see that the roads of Jaffna are full of motobikes and bicycles; with the rare Moris Minor car. Interestingly enough, there are just as many female motorcyclists as there are male. On many of the bicycles you'll see teenage boys with their phone pumping out beats as they move 2km/h. It is not hard to see how this translates to Scarborough. Oh by the way, nearly everyone I talk to has a relative in Toronto.

Riding through Jaffna, the sites will tell the story of this place. There is the hustle and bustle of the colorful street vendors, to the serene stretches of paddy fields. Interspersed amongst the life however, there lie numerous derelict houses and buildings. Blackened. Rubble. Abandoned. These serve as a continuous reminder that a civil war took place here - however it does not seem to faze the locals.

My bus arrives just outside Deaf Link. The first half of the day is spent assisting with a program for the children. This entails physical exercise, learning activities, coloring, and playtime. There are 12 boys and girls of varying learning abilities. Some of the handwriting or non-verbal exercises I give them either come back completed and correct, or just with a bunch of swirls scribbled over it. I am particularly fond of Ruben - a nine year old tiny boy who is mute and "dumb", though I think he is just very deep inside his shell. Since giving him attention and playing with him, he's started to smile and even say "Acca".

There is also a 13-year-old girl called Lalitha who has autism. She never participates in class - just runs around the premise smiling inanely and causing chaos. Her story however is far from full of smiles. She is the only child and her family used to live in Colombo. Her condition and the amount of care it demands caused her mother to become mentally affected. Lali can never stay still - she runs everywhere and anywhere, and in the high-story buildings of Colombo this is dangerous. Terrified his daughter could get raped or put in danger in her vulnerable situation, her Dad gave up his prestigious job and moved the family to Udavil, Jaffna, to take full-time care of both his child and wife. I talk to him when he comes to pick her up - my heart sinks everytime. The family are now very poor - Lali comes to the centre wearing her Dad's shirts because she has nothing else. In a place where there is no knowledge of autism, and it is even discriminated against, Deaf Link is providing the essential care. There are said to be over 50 children in the area with some form of learning difficulty that impedes them from going to normal school. However, only 12 attend, as the other families are still not educated on the need for their children to be socialized and given the opportunity to learn. Deaf Link still has a long way to go in terms of learning and recreational equipment. The ball they play with everyday doesn't even have much air.

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Ugh. I just smelt something burning so went to check out the window and saw a pile of rubbish, including plastic, on fire. It just occurred to me that there is no garbage collection - so I guess this how they do it. Just lovely.
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The staff at Deaf Link is awesome. After the kids go home at 1pm, I conduct English classes for them. They are mostly girls around my age - and we chat and giggle about the same things I do with my girlfriends back home. (By the way - Jaffna is not as ultra conservative as I presumed it to be - I see much random flirting going on in the bus). All the staff seem very happy and want to stay in Jaffna for the rest of their lives. In conjunction to teaching the kids, they are involved in a business to generate the funds to keep the place running. Another one of my Uncles, the Reverend who administers the project, clearly stated he did not want to rely on foreign donations. The aim is to create a sustainable scheme. Thus at Deaf Link, the business ventures in place include the sale of such things as Palmyra products, spices, handicrafts etc. Some of the staff working in the business are also deaf, and many women. The idea here is that by providing a salary for these workers - as women and marginalized members of society - they feel empowered by being economically independent.

I've got particularly attached to the girls, and one girl Sutha has taken me under her wing. She took me shopping the other day, where the shopkeeper looked at me and then told her in Tamil, "we only sell clothes for thin people". Just what I wanted to hear. She also took me to her home - and this was a weird experience. Her mother emerged from her room looking like she had never left her house. Turns out she hadn't. She's been sitting at home sulking about her "kulapadi" (naughty) husband who has been in the UK for the last number of years, who has failed to send money in recent months. You know what she made me do? She got me on the phone to him and made say in my awkward Tamil: "Kallo. My name is Ramiya. I am living in Canada. You have a very beautiful wife. Why haven't you sent money? Do you have a UK girlfriend?".

A lot more has happened, but I guess I'll have to spread it out over more blog entries. Something that has frustrated me is that a few of the British volunteers I met in Galle wanted to come visit me and see the North. All foreigners have to apply for a Ministry of Defense Clearance to visit the North and this usually takes 3 days but we haven't heard from them 5 days on - so the girls are unable to come. I have a Sri Lankan passport that's why it's been easy for me but for all those thinking of coming - factor that in mind. On the upside though, I've found out that the government has been training Tamils into the police force for the 1.5 years. I was pleasantly surprised to hear this.

I just came home from a bike ride to the paddy fields with my cousin's wife. It was absolutely breath taking. However, on the way back we found ourselves isolated with three soldiers armed with guns. Panic struck me as stories have me fearful of being raped my them. I probably won't do that again, but I've been asking people if they feel scared with the presence of soldiers. Most people, girls included, actually laugh and say no, that this is not like 2 years ago. Maybe they are used to the constant sight of soldiers, but I can't help being uneasy around them. Now I'm off to another Aunt's who is just up the road. She's the one with Internet so I can upload this. What I love about life here is that all my relatives are literally just around the corner.