Surviving Sri Lanka just fine, thanks!

Cows, dogs, monkeys, goats, ravens, and the odd cat and deer.  There is wildlife on all city streets in Sri Lanka. 

A bit of a slow start to the grand adventure of Sri Lanka but that’s to be expected as I readjust to life on the road.  I’ve quite confidently determined that I am far too old to be lugging a 20kg backpack around but am still at a loss as to how to diminish the already meager belongings I’m carrying along the way.  This isn’t including the extra kilos of computer & camera & random crap that sit snugly on my lap for most journeys.  I don’t have a lot, I really don’t.  When I unpack it all and lay it out on the bed, it’s actually quite sad to see that this is everything in the world that I own (I truly did have a few moments of choked up self-pity when I looked at my life laid out on a small twin-sized bed) but somehow it’s still impossibly heavy to carry around.  Maybe I’ll get stronger, maybe I’ll continue to shed bits and pieces along the way, maybe I’ll meet a talking donkey who will be willing to share the load with me.  Maybe, maybe, maybe.  Ah, the joys of life as a wandering fool. 

The one thing I’ve been blissfully thankful for as I’ve restarted my life of lost this week is how shockingly unfazed I am by shocking situations.  The places I’ve eaten in, the transportation I’ve taken, the silliness of it all should have sent me shivering and sobbing back to the safety of whichever sketchy room I had holed up in for the night but meh!  I seem to be fairly unfazed by most of it.  Kinda has me a bit concerned.  I mean, I should still be sicked out by some of these things, shouldn’t I?!  You’re going to give me a plate of rice that was 3 seconds ago barely visible as it was covered in flies?  Okay.  I’m going to squeeze my ass into a rusty, rocking, rolling, barely there bus hurtling down the road mach 5, horn blaring, wheels squealing, people spilling out on all sides because this is the way to go?  Alright then.  The only challenge I foresee will be making it out without succumbing to dengue or malaria (ever present fear after my ass-kicking in Mozambique).  Mosquitoes weren’t too much of an issue in Indo but here they’re aggressive, ever-present warriors.  All told, being my first weeks in, it has been fairly easy going.  KNOCK. ON. WOOD.

People – lovely.  Really lovely.   Hardly any staring other than when I’m marching down the street fully loaded and come on, let’s be honest, I’d stare at a pack mule like me as well.  Lots of passing hellos and big smiles and willingness to help when I ask questions here and there.  Everyone seems to speak a bit of English and as is always the case, sign language and charades is universal.  “Hello!  Where you going?” appears to be the standard greeting.  I had to shake my head as two men yelled this to me from the street while I drove away, seated inside a bus leaving a bus station.  Really?  Don’t be ridiculous.  The other, even more common question is:  “Where you come from?” or some variation of determining my country of origin.  I’ve gotten a little bored with the whole thing so I’ve become quite exotic.  I’ve been from Venezuela, Switzerland, Egypt, Jamaica, Mozambique, Argentina, and keep changing as the people pass.  *sigh*  the same question 7,000 times a day – ya gotta mix it up a bit.

I’m slowly figuring out prices and have been RIPPED on a few things but again, that improves with time.  Have found that the owners of the little “hotels” (where you go to eat, not sleep) are the worse culprits.  They come waltzing up, all smiles and English welcome, and if they can get to the cash guy before you do, the price manages to double somehow.  Again, it’s pennies I’m paying for bits and pieces here and there but for those of you who have travelled these roads, it’s the principle.  It’s frustrating but yes, it will come in time.  Only the beginning.

There’s a stamped out tourist route that I’ll get to in the south but wanted to head north to see a few cities I thought I should check out before heading to the travel books’ sights to see list.  Hardest part?  I can NOT pronounce the names of these places with more than 6 letters in them.  Seriously annoying.  Quick run down of the places I’ve seen so far:

Colombo.  City.  Surprisingly clean city compared to where I’ve just come from.  Chaos and congestion but somehow fairly manageable.  Got on a bus and everything!  Didn’t get to see too too much but impressive coastline and functioning infrastructure with fairly happy people all about.  Memorable moment, dropping my camera out of my bag and smashing the UV lens.  Frick.  Camera still works, pics seem to be fine, moving on. 

 Anuradhapura.  Yeah, YOU say it!  Old capital city, temples, history, yadda yadda.  Tuk tuk driver insisting on taking me on a tour to see all these temples and important places.  *yawn*  He started quickly dropping prices as he could see 1., not interested, 2., that I was going to walk and check things out on my own before making any decisions.  $30 was his going rate before I ventured off.  Wander, wander, wander, not so far, and I find myself at the entrance to these temple / tree / sacred places.  Checkpoints and official people manning the gates but I nonchalantly stroll up, feigning any knowledge of where I am and chatting to all the cows and dogs lounging about.  Seems that the official looking people simply want to make sure you aren’t carrying any weapons and poof!  I’m in, looking at this sacred tree and lovely temples for the grand total of $0.00.  Even got ash smudged on my forehead and pretty white thread wrapped around my wrist (think that means I’m blessed for today).  Funny how it works out like that. 

After holy tree place, off to Jaffna.  Tamil territory.  Give me some drama.  Nope.  Can’t even really get anyone to talk much about it.  My presence turned very few heads in this town even though I only saw maybe 4 other white faces.  Not that I’m by any means head-turning-worthy, but you know what I mean.  The entire town of Jaffna, from the roads to the buildings to the EVERYTHING, is under construction.  It’s hard to tell what’s old, what’s new, what is war ravaged and what is just Sri Lanka.  But the town is in progress and that’s never a bad thing.  Not a lot of information to be had and I’m just not a military fort and history kind of girl so I tired of the city pretty quickly.  The mania of the market and centre of town was amusing but cities, well, I’ve gotta keep moving.  Was in Jaffna for Diwali, walked endless in search of something celebratory.  Nada.  Pretty lights on trees and candles alongside the road but that was it.  Guess you needed to be connected to get into a house party. 

From Jaffna to Trincomalee.  250km, 2 buses, 8+ hours.  Ugh.  But I learn on these torturous journeys.  I’ve learned that while the aisle seat may offer a quick exit, it also means getting pushed, shoved, twisted, smushed, smacked by bags, handed bags to hold in your lap, and generally sat on (lap, shoulder, head, any exposed area) as the aisle fills to over capacity with bodies on the move.  The window seat may jam you in, but you’ve only got that one other body to deal with.  See.  I learn quickly.

Trincomalee.  Rain.  Arrived in the tiny little town, found a guesthouse, tried to get a bit oriented, almost drowned.  It’s rainy season on the east coast.  Fine enough as I was shattered from the cross country bus marathon, but come the next morning and it’s still raining, let the pacing begin.  I’m the only one staying here (as most people realize it’s rainy season and are smart enough to stay away) the owner and care taker arranged a tuk tuk tour to see some of the sights around town.  Game.  I’m in.  Learning to barter a bit more and like it less and less.  Some people are made for it and shine like superstars.  Me?  Not only do I suck at it, I don’t like it.  Hate talking money at the best of times, haggling for what I want or need – fail.  Massive.  But I’m getting by.  Again, the people are lovely and it has yet to turn ugly.  Maybe that’s because I’m paying way more than what I should be and have no flipping clue??   Regardless, I haven’t pissed off the locals.  Yet. 

A nice few hours about town with temples and rainy beaches and a local look around.  Tsunami area and wow, the water here scared me just looking at it from the rain soaked beach or the tops of temple ridden cliffs.  It’s big here.  I don’t know how else to describe it.  There’s a bit of sandy beach, maybe 100 meters, then massive, boiling, wave-smashing water that looks like it would swallow you whole as soon as you stepped foot in.  Granted it’s rainy season and the water is always much rougher and wilder this time of year but I was amazed at how CLOSE everything is built to this raging coastline.  A brand new hospital has been built ON THE EDGE OF THE WATER!!!  The tsunami funded housing (which is so painfully obvious but who cares when you need a place to live?) is built far back from the water, there are the obvious re-constructions of battered but still existing buildings but the newer constructions, I don’t get it.  Maybe it’s that lightning never strikes twice optimism, maybe it’s simple necessity, nostalgia, who knows.  But made me nervous just standing there.  Come summer time, I bet it’s a beautiful stretch of water though.  For now, too much rain.   

Temples are lovely, I need to learn more, but enough.  Much to the frustration of locals trying to show me various sights, I have ended up getting distracted by street puppies or meandering cows .  I drew an entire street worth of attention after scooping up a palm-sized kitten off the middle of the road and sitting on a curb to cuddle her.  Dissolved into tears of laughter as a sweet, brave lady emerged from the crowd of onlookers and came over to ask, “Do you like pussy?”  Oh dear gawd, how do I answer THAT one?!  Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous.  The kitten was left in her care.  Week one, done.