Back in One Piece - Check ✔

I've returned to Canada. Un-arrested, un-abducted, un-ransomed, and my supply of Immodium un-touched. Of course, I never believed the afore-mentioned things would happen to me - i'd just like to drive the point home to my dear family. Turns out this trip was not so serenstupid after all.

As a Sri Lankan living outside the island, I had to go back. In Canada, I felt I was becoming tangled in a plethora of bias and propaganda, and that I was losing touch with why I am so impassioned by the island in the first place. Three months of lone-traveling through Sri Lanka later, I have some conclusions of what I've observed.

This billboard exemplifies the economic frenzy the country is experiencing in its post-war opportunity. Visiting Sri Lanka almost every year, I was astounded this time with the enormous influx of tourists. All-inclusive resorts to chic boutique hotels seem to be popping up everywhere. Riding through what was a ghost-town last year, Killinochchi has now sprouted commercial banks and supermarkets, and even a hotel. Of course, this economic surge is being profited by the opportunists at home and abroad - it is no indication of nationwide prosperity. I'm glad I do not have to listen to another TukTuk driver complain about how prices have gone up, but it is not just him who complains. Speaking to a young, unemployed educated, middle-class man in Colombo, he states that it is a grim situation for people like him to advance without political links or sizable funds to buy your way.

That aside, it's good to know that somethings always remain true - and Sri Lanka is still utterly gorgeous. In a matter of hours, your train journey can go from hugging the palm-fringed coastline to being within the cold clouds of rolling mountains, to next being amidst ancient ruins, and then back in the throngs of the bustling city. Travelling North, East, South, West and Center, I was mesmerized by such varied landscapes, but also by the commonalities Sri Lankans share. Not to sound all hippy and "one love", but really there is not much difference in the people. Family and religious observances play an integral part in Sri Lankan lives from the South to the North coast. Trips to the beach, a serious perchant for dancing, and male-dominated drinking also seem to be customary. Also, people who you've recently met are very keen on welcoming you to their house, introducing you to their family, and treating you with tea and food, and sending you back with something like mangoes from their garden. There seems to be less segregation between the public sphere and private sphere of people lives, seemingly merging into one.

Technological advancement is not a primary focus of everyone in Sri Lanka. I've noticed that a lot of people given a choice between a bed or the floor, or a shower or a bucket, will readily choose the floor and the bucket. If you remember from previously, the hose I got for the Elder's Home to cut down their work time was still not being used when I went back. Many people outside the city seem quite happily accustomed to their simple lives. It made me question what "developing" post-war areas would really mean. Would we be happy when we see nicely-built houses, more supermarkets, and maybe a movie theatre - like they have in Colombo? My answer is that people have their own values in how they live their life, they don't necessarily want our lives - they just want opportunity and freedom to self-suffice their lives.

Not wanting to change ways of life however, is different from not being able to. I saw in Sri Lanka, a culture of inaction when it came to demanding change. I remember being at the Premadasa Stadium for the World Cup, and drunkards on the higher tier were continually spilling beer on those on the bottom stands. There were several policemen in 10-metre intervals looking out onto the crowd who continued to just stand there. I was so shocked that people in the crowd would just get up to leave their paid-seats without complaining. Those who remained would curse profanities at the culprits as if that would stop them. I could not believe that no one was informing the authorities even after 4 hours, and I became the first and last person to go and talk to the police. Maybe people keep quiet because they do not believe in their systems; made evident by the herd of policemen who eventually went to settle the beer matter, 6 hours into the game. Incidents of a similar nature happened a lot. People would sit on bus rides complaining loudly to one another that the air conditioning was on too high, and then give me the "what are you doing crazy woman?" stare when I went to the bus driver to reduce it. I feel that people tend to just accept things the way the are because they believe to be impotent. You can see how this translates on a macro-scale into politics.

If there is one thing I'd like to convey with this concluding entry, I'd like to stress how it is important not to base your perceptions on news reports. It is easy enough to believe that people in the country are all brainwashed and ridiculous. From my travels, I have gathered this is untrue. Citizens of Sri Lanka are just as stratified in their views as those in the diaspora. There are those who I've met, from Colombo intellectuals to villagers in the South, who are against the current administration. Then there are several of those I've met who genuinely believe that this must be the most amazing time for Tamil people to be free from war, and praise the president for "saving" Tamil people. There are also several who are completely politically apathetic. However you look at it, I hope people don't brand Sri Lankans on the island as one monolithic group. Discussing with a young Sinhalese lawyer about my cricket blogpost, I got offended when he belittled the fact that the national anthem does not include Tamil and that cultural identity was not important. He went on to say that it was more important to campaign for language rights in the courts he works at, because many Tamils cannot understand the Sinhalese legal jargon, and he could not imagine how difficult it must be for them. Someone who I had been so quick to judge as antagonistic to the reconciliation process, turned out to provide me such valuable insight into matters that need attention.

This trip has been about understanding Sri Lanka on an a more intimate level than what is presented abstractly through other sources. I urge anyone passionate about Sri Lanka and it's future to make the journey. To begin to understand the differences and similarities between the worlds that youth from Jaffna, Colombo, and Toronto live in is important for any discussion of re-imagining the future. Out of the hundreds of youth I talked to in Jaffna - only one wanted to leave Jaffna for medical school. This seriously astonished me since my perception was that all Tamils in Jaffna would grab the chance to get out of there if they could.

I think one of the most touching iniatives I saw by youth in Jaffna, was the Hatton trip. Hatton is a town in the middle of the country, famous for it's tea plantations. Most regular visitors to the country would have definitely travelled to the hill country, and many within the country will make annual long-weekend trips. In fact anywhere around the island is accessible within 12 hours, so it is customary to go on trips around the island with the family. It had never occurred to me that youth in Jaffna had never had the opportunity to visit outside their confinement in these previous decades. Any journey outside would have been to move for good, to the South or abroad - certainly not for a jolly field trip. Just recently, a large group of young adults my age had organized a trip to Hatton - their first time outside Jaffna in their lives. They were going to see these wondrous mountains that they apparently live on the same island as.

"How can there be peace without people understanding each other, and how can this be if they don't know each other?" - Lester B. Pearson.

Colombo Sunset

***
A group of Sri Lankans in Canada, of Sinhalese, Tamil and Muslim descent, are involved in humanitarian action, and reconciliation through working together, by fundraising for 25 wells in the Wanni region. Please take time to look at the project - http://www.buildchange.ca/

Last days/ East is East

I just came back from an epicurean 24-course meal at Tao in Colombo. Yes, twenty four! I had to sit still for an hour when I came back - but now I'm ready to write. I have to tell you that this dining experience was the least of the fascinating things that happened to me today.

I find a beauty in doing things cyclically, so I travelled to Galle (Southern Coast) yesterday. The place where this journey all started. I stayed at the Volunteer Project again. The volunteers now are all different - all doctors and medical students. This morning I went back to the elders' home to say bye to the old ladies. Then I went back to Unawatuna Beach - where I spent many days of my first 3 weeks in Sri Lanka.

In these past 3 months, I have shoed off any sketchy looking beach Rasta who has come up to me. However, this time I thought about what harm it could really be just to chat to them. Sorry Mum. I could not believe how wrong I was to judge the ones I talked to today. Four of us had a in-depth, half an hour conversation about Sri Lanka - the government, the war, the future. I did not realise how knowledgable of affairs these beach boys were. The conversation moved to Bin Laden, and this is where I had to write down what one of them said.

"It's OK if you think it's a good thing or bad thing, but don't party. Even here, after Prabhakaran died, it was like Christmas party. But the struggle much bigger than the man you know. It's not right to have party. You know this Osama thing... you can blow up the roof, but the foundation still standing."

After this conversation, I trotted off to the vegetarian restaurant where I was the only person. For the West of the island, monsoon season is starting and the tourist season has ended; opposite to the East coast. I had another rivetting discussion with the owner, who is a London-trained Zen Chef and lecturer on Buddhist Economics. He wants to build houses for war-effected people in the North once the government clearance is given. His brother is a colonel in the army stationed in the North. After assessing my "energy", he came back and presented me with a soft pink moonstone for "more energy" and wished me on my way back to Colombo.

I have just met too many fascinating people on this trip - and I wanted to tie it in with my experiences with one corner of the island I haven't talked about yet - The East.

***

The first time I visited the East was in March where I volunteered with Deaf Link's Eastern branches. Travelling through Pasikoda, Batticaloa and Kalmunai, I tried to observe similarities and differences with the rest of the country. Firstly, the East coast is gorgeously lush like the rest of the island apart from Jaffna. There are just miles and miles of fertile paddy fields and serene lagoons, in comparison to the semi-desert of Jaffna. In contrast to Jaffna also, the buidlings are well taken care off with freshly painted coats of bright rainbow colours. Many of these buildings have been rebuilt since the Tsunami. I was happy to see there were no signs of damage from the heavy flooding of earlier this year, apart from the reconstruction of roads going on. It will also strike you that there is a considerably large Muslim presence in the East. People contend that East-coast Sri Lankans are relatively more friendly, and less reserved than those of the North - though they share a common language in Tamil. A theory is that Northern Sri Lankans have had to work harder to gain anything from their dry earth, and this has impacted their social attitudes. 

For me, the most intriguing difference between the war-effected East and the war-effect North was the number of NGOs. There is a sign for World Vision, CIDA (Canadian Internationl Development Agency) and GTZ (German Development Agency) pratically every 1km. When I visited the homes of families, they informed me that they were provided all their post-flooding support from World Vision. However, it's interesting that I've met even people working for these NGOs who are skeptical about how effective foreigners can really be in spheres of development other than crisis relief-giving. I want to briefly describe some of the local level action going on.

The place where I stayed at for a night was called the "The Ashram for Human Self-Reliance and Meditation". I thought this was a highly commendable project given the presence of four major religions in the country. Though the priest is Christian, he creates sermons that are based on a common spirituality between the religions. Villagers of Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Christianty attend the tranquil gazebo daily to hear his talks. Quite creatively, the floor is a mosaic of different tiles from the various homes of the surrounding villagers.

Another lady who is utterly inspiring is Shanthi. I initially met her at the Young Canadians Peace Dialogues - some of you might remember. This time I met her in her office in Colombo, though her work is based heavily in Batticaloa of the East. She has started her own grassroots NGO, actively bringing women into political participation. She creates paraphernalia and drama productions to educate and raise awareness of people's democratic rights; particularly women. Leaflets with comic strips will show village women chatting to one another about how they can use their local authorities. The movement has been so successful in empowering women, that some have even achieved the release of their husbands who have been unjustly held in prisons. I asked her how higher authorities feel about her project, to which she said, that when the authorities cooperate with the local people and address their demands, it is actually better for them because they get re-elected. It's mutually beneficial. For your information also, the Mayor of Batticaloa is a Tamil lady.

And now to Arugam Bay. I feel this should deserve it's own blog entry. Arugam Bay, also in the East Coast, is probably one of the best places I've visited on this trip. It is how I imagine Unawatuna was 15 years ago - before it was colonized by the tourism industry. I did head to Arugam Bay just before the season kicked off - but I still revelled in its unbuilt-up charm. It is a particular hit with surfers worldwide, having staged the International Surfing Association's competition in the Summer of 2004 (before the Tsunami).

Instead of hotels in the Bay, you will find quaint beach cabanas and tree houses. I had never met so many laid back local people who seem to live outside the profit-oriented system. There's been talk about building two 5-star hotels here, which was shut down quickly by locals. However, given the way things work in Sri Lanka, I wonder how long this decision will stand. This question really speaks about the whole of the island and it's direction, given the economic boom it is seeing in the wake of post-war. Money sees enormous potential all over the island.

As we sat looking out onto the beach, I had Chamil, the Sri Lankan realist economist and brown environmentalist on one side of me, and Liam, the Irish green environmentalist farmer on the other side. Chamil talked extensively about how the deserted beach we were looking at now would be swarming with hotels and beach resorts and nightclubs within two years time whether we like it or not. Liam was passionately enlightening us about the dangers this would pose to the local people and the environment.

Liam is highly interesting. He volunteered at the same place I did in Galle - but not at the same time as me. Upon visiting the East Coast, he encountered the desperation of so many who seemed hopeless after many foreign NGOs had picked up their bags and left post-war. He says his life in Ireland is beyond great. However, he could not leave here having felt the responsibility to share in his expertise with those who need it. He has over 30 years of farming experience in Ireland, and now is spear-heading organic self-sufficient farming in villages close to Arugam Bay. His mantra is centred on the "Economics of Happiness". (<< I haven't been able to watch the documentary he has insisted I watch yet : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SYEvFRQchyw )

Liam is in the process of establishing a volunteer project where you can work in local schools and with villagers and the local farms. If you can speak Tamil - you are even more of an asset, as this is a Tamil-speaking area. I cannot stress how amazing the local area is. You would be close to the beach for swimming and surfing, as well Sri Lanka's emergering most-happening spot. Here is the link if you are interested for the project: http://srilankaorganicvolunteer.com/

Penultimate blog! Leaving Sri Lanka tomorrow. Will have my conclusions in the last one.

Welcome to Jaffna Rehab

I haven't blogged in ages. Truth be told I've felt to outpour many times since the Cricket World Cup finished. Debates erupted over the politics and sports question, worthy of causing actual tectonic activity. It did my head in - and i've concluded that discussing this further is ultimately futile. So i'm here today to write up something I found fascinating, yet relatively light-hearted from my days in Jaffna.

***

At 6 foot tall, and gorgeous, there are other reasons why Diana stands out in the assembly hall. Every single girl at the international school in Manipay has perfectly braided pigtails and that manner of a disciplined young school girl. Diana slouches back on her seat as if saying "see if I care" and her is hair volumized and stylized into a beehive. As I walk past her, I'm thinking, "that must be her".

The morning assembly is very formal. I disregard most of it, but a particular address to the students by the headmaster makes me chuckle. He admonishes the boys for their spiked-up gel-ed hair. Insisting that their celebrity heroes look horrendous without make-up and airbrushing, he urges boys to return to what their forefathers used in order to keep the head cool in such temperatures - gingelly oil. Anyone who has smelt its ghastly stench will know that this will unlikely change hair-styling behaviour at the school.

At first, I was not at all interested when my Uncle, who works at the school, asked me to come visit. However, my ears had pricked up when he mentioned that there was a 16-year-old British girl who had been ex-patriated and sent to the school as punishment from her parents. I had met guys who this had happened to, but I was so intrigued as to what this girl had done and how she was coping.

Walking through the corridors of the school with Diana, it was evident she is very popular; hollering out to practically all the students walking past: "Link ya at lunch yea? Peace bruv." I could not help but find sheer amusement witnessing Southall, England in conservative, rural Jaffna.

At first I got to interview her with other students in the classroom, and we moved into an unused classroom for more intimate details. From her greetings, I could tell that she was sweet and didn't put up any attitude or bitterness that I expected. She seemed ecstatic that she was meeting someone else "foreign" after 5 months of being dumped in Jaffna. My first question, looking to ease into the deeper stuff, was what she made of the culture change. She answered, "you see this yea?" and pointed up and down at her uniform. Judging by it's modest coverage, it was easy enough to understand what she meant. She flashes a smile at the girl sitting next to her and speaks to her in Tamil. Her bestfriend here is the daughter of a Pastor, one of those girls with perfect pigtails, who has lived in Jaffna all her life, never wants to step out of Jaffna, wants to be doctor, but has a secret boyfriend from church.

Turning back to Diana, I then asked her how different life was for her, and what she got up to in her spare time as opposed to in England. "It's way different here bruv (brother). In England yea, there are bare (many) clubs and pubs and parks. Here there's nuffin' bruv." She goes to the net cafe so she can watch hours of Vampire Diaries. Music on her blackberry also keeps her going. She doesn't get to leave the house much, but she gets her teenage-girl boy kicks by talking to some on her phone in her room. Figuratively, as well as literally, she's miles apart from the world she knew in England.

"Were you involved in the decision to come here?"
Her parents had told her that her grandmother in Mannar was not well. (Sounds like the beginning of one those South Asian forced marriages doesn't it?) She was more than willing to make the trip to Sri Lanka. When they got to Mannar, her father said that he was going to Jaffna for a few days. The next day, he skype-d her from England. She was absolutely livid. "I really should 'av guessed from the size of the suitcases that somefin' else was up." She ran out of the house with her passport and cash, soon realising she didn't even know where East was, even if the sun rose from it. Returning back to her relatives house, she refused to eat or drink for hours, and then she got hungry.

Soon enough, she agreed to go to Jaffna; the hope of returning back to England eventually carrying her through. She first stayed in a hostel. Finding out no phones were allowed, nor leaving the hostel lesuirely, she flatly said "no way" and moved to her Aunt's house in Manipay. As I scooped further, I asked her how this all happened.

From the age of 14, Diana had been smoking cannabis everyday. Drinking on the occasion too. She hung out with many people from different backgrounds - Tamil, Indian, Black, White, Mixed. "It was all about getting respect and status, and the contacts you had. That's all that mattered to us." She says she presented herself to world as a "whore" even though she knew she wasn't one. Every night she would come home high, and argue with her parents. Eventually the tensions between the family got so agonizing, her parents agreed for her to go into foster care. Personally, I think they knew what the outcome would be. After 4 months, she couldn't take being away from her family and returned.

I asked her if she had any siblings. And here for the first time I saw something of a deeper sadness . Teary-eyed, she softly begin to speak of her little sister. "She hates me... I used to beat her. I didn't realise what I was doing. She's scared of me."

"Do you regret all this? Do regret being here?"
She believes she's changed immensely since being here. Her little sister had even mentioned over the phone how different she sounds. Diana goes on to speak with a sense of hurting resentment about the past and determination for the future. "I've never ever realised how much my parents mean to me. When I go back yea, I wanna be a new person. I'm becoming a new person. I don't wanna hang around my old friends". She speaks of a change in priorities in her life and how being here in Jaffna, has not made her bitter and angry, but given her all the conditions to realise her destructive ways, realise what's important and realise the urgency to change herself. She acknowledges there is always the danger of returning back to old ways, but that she is adamant to thwart it. My mind hopped to two guys I knew who had been sent to India when they were around 13 for a couple years, and how back now in England, they are still losers. I have more hope in Diana. At least reality has shouted in her face. And as if for that single moment, all the beauty in the world rushed in to make her smile, she then asserted: "This is the best thing that ever happened to me".

Sri Lankan Cricket - Identity in the Innings

Do you know how I spent the last World Cup Finals? Let me remind you it was Sri Lanka versus Australia, in Barbados. I was in Colombo. I had to stay home due to security fears. As things started to go Australia's way, the LTTE air raided over Colombo, prompting a city-wide blackout. Fortunately I had power still left on my laptop and internet connection. But obviously it's not the same; having to track a game by the score rather than being able to watch it.

This World Cup for Sri Lankan fans has been drastically different, not only due to the relative peace, but because many of the matches have been played in front of the homecrowd. And what an electric atmosphere it has been here! I was lucky enough to get tickets to the quarter-finals and semi-finals; through painstaking efforts however. The 35,000 tickets for each game were sold out within hours, and well before Sri Lanka had even qualified. So once they had made it to the knock-out stages, fans were on a desperate scramble. I for one, had to call every Tom, Dick, and De Silva in Colombo. In the end I propositioned a TukTuk driver ten times the original price. But that just meant for me that a $3 ticket went up to $30.

Watching the game right infront of your eyes is an experience. At the beginning of the match I was a little disoriented with the lack of commentary, being so used to watching matches on TV. Soon I realised the experience was about being in the crowd just as much as it was to watch the players in your vicinity. Premadasa Stadium was awash with rivers of blue and yellow, and I was soon reminded that Sri Lankans love any excuse to party. Every time there was a boundary or the end of an over, the crowd erupted into dance. And when that Baila music came on - the soundtrack to the Island - not a soul stood still. Behind every game of cricket in the sub-continent however, simmers a whole pot of socio-political completixies. It's never just a simple game of cricket.

I've been hearing for years now that Muslims in Sri Lanka support Pakistan over Sri Lanka. At the games however, I encountered many Muslims; even women wearing full hijabs in the baking sun draped in Sri Lankan flags. However, the more pressing issue has always been the Tamil-Sinhala one.


For the Semi-Final after party I went out with two doctors I had met at the game. One of Sinhalese origin and one being Sri Lankan Muslim. Knowing that I'm of Tamil ethnicity and living in Canada, they asked me whether I was supporting Sri Lanka or not. It reminded me of internet propoganda circulated by some in the Tamil Diaspora I saw a few days ago. It had pictures of horrific war incidents, and a slogan that read, "If you see their National Sport, you may not want to support their Cricket. Boycott Sri Lankan Cricket." It had evoked much in me. I was reminded that those even being born in a country, could choose to go so vehementlty against it. I strongly believe that those behind this propaganda have every right to hold their views, if I am entitled to mine. Just because of artificially imposed state dilieanations (imposed by the wonderful colonizers) Sri Lanka is not organically one nation.

I know that wearing my Sri Lankan cricket jersey will offend some Tamils. I know that I wouldn't wear it Canada. But really Sri Lanka has always been home to me - growing up here, and coming back every year at length. Having lived in Colombo, as opposed to the North or the East, I grew up with both Tamil and Sinhalese friends. I was told as a kid by many Tamils here, that a Sinhalese person is anyday my brother or sister over the Indian Tamil. Even today, after having spent many years out of the Island, I am more culturally akin to the Sinhalese people of Sri Lanka than the Indian Tamils I have met. So when the two doctors asked me who I was supporting, I asserted "Sri Lanka, But...."

The national TV cricket analysis is in Sinhalese. They sure enough have a Tamil guy to speak for 20 minutes or so in Tamil every now and then, but I've realised just how problematic this language issue is. There is also ofcourse Russell Arnold, the national cricketer of Tamil origin on the main panel. He speaks in Sinhalese. Muttiah Muralitharan is the crowd favorite at the stadium. He gets the standing ovation and the chants everytime, and Kumar Sangakkarra even declared him, "The Icon of Sri Lanka". However Sangakkarra goes on to address the homecrowd in Sinhalese. For the minority of Tamils in North in East, and for me (who speaks about 10 words of Sinhalese) it serves as a boundary - one that disallows us from sharing in that 'Sri Lankan' spirit. Having lived in England and heard all the "go home"s, I've never felt truly English supporting the football team. Having lived in Canada for just a few years, I've never felt truly Canadian supporting the hockey team. Sri Lanka, I so desperately wished, was my country. But even here I've had to swallow the uncomfortable reality that, even though I can survive without a word of Sinhalese, I can't feel truly complete to this island without knowing it.

I expressed to my doctor friends that I can accept this for now. They laughed and said it wasn't true. That Sri Lanka is no way not just for Sinhala Buddhists. I shrugged my shoulders. Then I said there's just one thing I want immediately for Sri Lankan cricket and for ethnic solidarity. I know for a fact there are world-class potential cricket players in the North and East. The recruiting for the team only takes place in elite schools in the Colombo and Kandy regions. Aravinda de Silva, national cricket hero, and Coco-Cola have already sampled cricket camps in the North. But if they could reach out all over the island. If they could reach out to the poor, rural villages of the South also; then the Sri Lankan cricket team could have even more crop to pick its creme. My family are from Manipay, Jaffna, and when our local Russell Arnold was playing on the national stage we were so excited. If talent from the Sri Lankan villages of those in the diaspora circulating propaganda were to one day play on the Sri Lankan Cricket Team, it could potentially engage their interest and pride - and well - maybe we could break a boundary - off the field.

Jaffna Wrap Up - The Need for Help

I am back in Colombo – somewhat burnt out. Leaving to Batticaloa tonight, so I know that now is the only time I can blog. Being back in Colombo feels like I’m now in a luxury haven compared to Jaffna, but the pangs have set in of me missing the Canadian comfort. Basically I never want to see a cockroach again, and I miss not having to carry a toilet roll everywhere I go.

My 11 days in the North was the best days of my Sri Lankan trip so far. Not in the traditional sense of “enjoyment” – I’d give that to the beach parties in Unawatuna. But in the sense I’ve gained far more than I could have imagined to expect. It has been beyond worthwile. The reason being: In Galle, I was merely a small fish in a big pond. The voluntary work was more of a community service, worthy, but I didn’t feel like I could offer change in any lasting way. In Jaffna, I’ve realized the mission.

My very last day in Jaffna, Brother Lavakumar took me to visit IDP (Internally Displaced Peoples) families. First we were at a small camp in Udavil, where around 30 families resettled from 1991 have been living in semi-permanent shelters. Their shelter is very basic. Only one family has electricity, and everyone uses a communal water supply. That said, it was important for me to begin to realize that it is not better facilities that people need alone. As humans, we’ll always desire more comfort, but regardless we adjust to what we have. What the people were talking to Brother Lavakumar was not about getting electricity, or a personal bathroom - but bank loans. They want to start up their own businesses.

A 1 hour motorbike ride later, we were in the fishing village of Thondamarnara. Here many families resettled from the last wave of fighting are now residing. They are the poorest of the country, and many are low caste. The caste system is still a major issue in Jaffna. Though not explicitly, children from low castes are discriminated by the school system. Apparently, when they give the area they are from on a school application, it is an indicator of their caste. Just a few days earlier, the Brother had asked if I could write an appeal to some Australian friends of his for funding. I had done so, outlining the need for tables and benches, and hiring more teachers for an after-school initiative that had begun. The main thrust of the appeal was empowerment. While it is just as important for those affected by war to receive infrastructure development, the tool of education can provide the ability for future generations to elevate their communities themselves. Now having the chance to visit the after school classes first hand, I realized just how eager the children are to learn, especially English – a vital language needed if they are to succeed in Sri Lanka. Even though barefoot, and studying on the ground, they are eager. It made me think of my Dad, from a very poor family, who didn’t have shoes until he was 16; did all his science labs barefoot, and yet achieved so much because he had been given the opportunity of education. While there is a government school for these children, it is not wholly effective, and the after-school classes are designed to enhance their education. The families could definitely not afford the Rs.300 that private tuition costs, so Brother Lavakumar started this free iniative. He hopes to expand the project by opening a montessori, starting O Level tuition, and increasing the number of children and teachers.

The Brother took me next to visit individual families in Thondamarnara. These families have lost all their livelihoods from the war, many now living with relatives. There lies a major difference between these families and the ones I had met from Uduvil. Remember that the Uduvil families had been living there for more than 10 years. These recent IDPs in Thondamarnara, having no permanent address, do not qualify for bank loans, as well as receiving no compensation or welfare assistance. They all have skills. One man, through bombing, lost his shop and also the full functioning of his left leg. He is only 30. Now he travels 3 hours in total a day to a gas station where he works pumping gas for Rs.7000/monthly. (Around $70, £35). Half of his salary would go on the bus fare. He insistingly believes that if he opened a small shop near where he is staying it would thrive; saying there is demand. He needs a loan of Rs.100,000 ($1000) but cannot get it from the bank. Another man has 7 children, one in a LTTE detention centre. His fishing net only is capable of catching small fish. With Rs.70,000 he could purchase a net that would double his income. He was the sweetest man ever, and wouldn't let me leave without having tea and a bundle of fried fish. None of them ask for money -  it is Brother Lavakumar who fills me in on their needs. These people are not after handouts nor monthly donations. They simply want a loan - a chance to rebuild the lives they once had where they were taking care of themselves and their families.

Talking with my Uncle, part of the Church, he detailed to me a legitimate and accountable way in which funds raised for loans for IDPs can be sent, and auditted. The major bonus: 0% Admistration costs! Major charities can take up to 40% to pay for their professional foreign expertise, but The Sri Lankan Methodist Church working in Jaffna is a grassroots establishment, utilising local knowledge, and trusted by the goverment; thus having full access of the area. Before I make an official appeal to those who may be interested, I have requested the G.S. (like a District Official) of Thondamarnara to verify the stories of the individuals with his records. There is always the possibility of exaggerated stories.

What is important to note, is that at one time - succeeding in studies spelt the opportunity to go abroad. To leave the island, and all its lack of opportunity given the civil war, was a dream for many. This caused a serious brain drain in last 30 years. Since the end of the war, the locals of Jaffna do not have such a desperation to leave - most of them wanting to stay here forever. By empowering them through education, maybe this sounds idealistic, the region has a chance to flourish and avert social unrest. To do this however, opportunity needs to be created. Development needs to happen.

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.

***
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.
***

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.

Killinochi. Jaffna. North-South Peace for Women.

I just successfully went for a wander by myself in Manipay, Jaffna, to buy a packet of biscuits. It made me realise how I couldn't have done this for the last 30 years without being ridden with fear. Then of course a posse of Sri Lankan army soldiers passed me by on their bikes, and I was reminded that things aren't normal.

On my way here, I passed through Killinochi - a former LTTE stronghold. I got out and stood at the exact same spot I was just exactly a year ago. A bittersweet feeling washed over me. The place last year resembled a ghost town - the rubble of homes bombed, no vegetation, army barracks punctuating the road, and hardly anyone walking the streets. Now, the place has people cycling and ambling along, and there is a sense of life; just as colourful flowers have sprouted. However, this is probably a false perception of real change for locals. Bombed houses have now been rebuilt for soldiers. There are still tents with locals living. Amongst the billboards, banks, and gas stations that have gone up, you are always reminded with a shelled house with no roof that has caved in. One former college in Omanthai is now being used as a detention centre for former LTTE cadres, while the students study in tents opposite the road.

All of 12 hours of a bumpy ride later from Colombo, I had entered Elephant Pass - the gateway into the Jaffna Peninsula. Hot, dusty roads that burn barefeet; whispering Palmyra trees that have seen too much; I knew I was here. There is something different about the green in Jaffna. For the South is full of a sharp and lush, tropical green, and here the green is muted and parched. It is a testament to the arid climate of the region, that once propelled Tamils here to seek education over farming, and factored into the civil war that was to come.

The few times I have come to Jaffna, the birthplace of my parents, I shudder with an eerie feeling. I always feel that people are miserable here. But I soon change my mind - for I never meet anyone who wants to leave. Without the fear of being bombed, shot or raped - the life here is beautiful in its simplicity.

Last Saturday, to mark International Women's Day, 50 Sinhalese women from the South had made the same trip I had to the North, to meet with 50 Tamil women. I was able to attend half of the conference. There was a Tamil-Sinhala interpreter on stage with the speakers, and of course my trusty Aunt as my English interpreter. I'm typing up the main points addressed. It's interesting how the issue of North-South peace was not the only focus, but also the emphasis to band together to protest against the rising cost living. (The notes are a little choppy due to interpretation).

The head representative lady from the South speaks - 

• Before there was no relationship between the North and South of the island. This created much misunderstanding. Now the ladies of the South at this conference would like to change that.
• The last 30 years of civil war has affected ladies the most. For we have lost husbands, brothers, and children due to fighting.
• Now that peace is restored, we have to foster better relationships between the North and South. We should not think each other as bad as we are not different. We need the same things in life. Whether Tamil, Sinhalese, or Muslim, we have to learn to be peaceful.
• As mothers, we need to ensure that our children can grow up - not die.
• We need to wipe war from our heads.
• We are average people - but WE have to push the leaders of our country on our social demands.
• The cost of living is very high.
• Produce from the North & East have to be introduced and advertised to the South, and vice versa.
• We must confront our industrial ministers together.
• We must show eachother our cultures.

Sinhala Priest from the South, addressing the women of the North - 

• No people should ever live under the command of another people.
• I see at every junction, there are army soldiers. Do you like the army standing there?
• Now we have freedom - but we don't know about human deaths in the future. For their success, hundreds of thousands have been killed. Is this rule by the people? Is this good?
• In 1948, a coconut was 5 rupees, now it is 60 rupees. Now we have to import them from India.
• Only we can push our government for change.
• First we have to talk about it. Then we have to take our proposals to the government.
• A journalist once asked a army soldier's mother - "Amma, how do you feel your son is killed?". She answered, "It is to protect the country."
• If we asked the mother of a LTTE soldier, she would say the same thing. Who is right?
• Both mothers are wrong. Your children are your country.
• Sirimavo Bandaranaike, Chandrika Bandaranaike, Benazir Bhutto, Sheikh Hasina; were all women with leading roles. But did they use their power to campaign for equality for women and men? No.
• At a hospital recently, a mother saw another baby crying for milk for awhile. She did not know whether the baby was Tamil or Sinhala or Muslim - but she picked it up and gave it milk.
• The love of being a Mother is much greater than anything else.
• We can ask questions on how to change the world - or we can just remain quiet.

Unfortunately, my aunt ran off sometime before a female Sinhala Professor rose to the stand. What I gathered from the Tamil interpretation is that she was talking about the institutional and social bias towards women in Sri Lanka; that exists in paradox to what is outlined in the constitution. After the lunch break, the ladies got into discussion groups - but I had to go.

It was all-in-all positive to see such an initiative was taking place. Often abroad, we hear how clueless the rest of the country are to what has been going on in the North and East and their government, and about a lack of willingness to understand. This conference signified something important in defying the absoluteness of that claim.

Got lots more to say! Will be blogging soon...
:o)