one way ticket

FACEBOOK, A HILL AND A BUCKET OF WATER

2011-08-22T17:28:00.010+05:30

I've been thinking lately of giving up Facebook. Those who know me well will know that is a big call, not a decision I would take lightly. For about 3 years now, Facebook has been the major contributor to my social life (sad, I know). It has been the invaluable link between me in my world and many of my dear, dear friends back home (and in other parts of the world). It has kept me linked to people I would not want to drift apart from, even if distance does interfere. That being said, there are some pitfalls to Facebook that I'm not sure I am equipped to handle (and, no, I'm not talking about Farmville).

The trouble I have seems to arise whenever I come home late from a particularly long and draining day at work. I'm tired and, looking for a quick pick-me-up, I turn to Facebook hoping for a funny story or to be able to leave a light-hearted comment somewhere. Instead I quickly find myself being discouraged by the amount of criticising, complaining and condemning. We are so archaic because we don't have daylight savings. The shops aren't open early enough, late enough, long enough. We have to work extra shifts. We're so angry because there are stupid people who don't agree with our opinions. Or we're so convinced of our opinions that we'll voice them however and whenever we like. Let's broadcast our uncensored thoughts of whoever has upset us most recently. Where are our tax dollars going? We want more, we haven't got enough, we missed out. We've had a bad day.

But I didn't. I had a great day. I went to work - a three-and-a-half hour drive there and a three-and a-half hour drive back at the end of the day. I can't complain though, because my newest apprentice had an hour on a bus before even getting in the van with us. Then, when we arrive at work we have to walk a slippery path uphill, each of us carrying boxes packed with books and things. Doesn't sound like the makings of a great day to you? Let me explain a little more.

Today I had a meeting at the home of my co-worker, invaluable assistant and friend. I hadn't seen her in nearly a month, so I suppose that was the biggest part of what made it a great day. But, more than that, I love a visit to her house. There is something there that can't be seen in too many places and I would like to try my best to show it to you.

This house, as I've mentioned, is built on the side of a hill. The land was given to people who were unable to buy land elsewhere and some who had lost homes in the tsunami. They've settled up here and made a home of it - a small community. You can't access the houses by road - though the houses on flat ground have good infrastructure and there is a large town not far away. We park the van on a small field at the base of the hill and then have to walk the small path that has been worn into the hillside by those who go and come. It is not a long walk, but it is gravelly, a bit slippery for those of us who may fall a little on the clumsy side of things, and a small challenge if you have to carry things with you in the heat of the day. Still, I love the walk. It reminds me of when I was a kid living in the bush, always running off to go exploring amongst the trees and following the paths I discovered. I miss that.

About halfway along my walk I will pass a plastic tank - like a rainwater tank, only smaller - and a . . . hmmm, I'm not sure I know how to describe it. It is about the size of a small meeting hall but it is only the floor and half-walls in the parts where it has been built into the sides of the hill. I think it is partly tiled and partly concrete. I can't describe it too well because I know what it is and, seeing as most times I've gone past it has had people in it, I usually avert my eyes. Along part of the perimeter of the rectangular construction runs a small ditch with a pipe through which, I'm pretty sure, trickles water from the tank. A small part of the 'hall' is separated by a half wall, with a drain to let water out and a plug to keep it in. I suppose it's a bit like an empty swimming pool. This is a communal bathroom. People living on the hill will come here to bathe and to wash their clothes. (It might be worth pointing out that they don't bathe naked. I avert my eyes because I figure if I had to bathe in an open-air bathroom, I don't think I'd appreciate any old passer-by watching me like I was a TV programme.)

The tank is the community's water supply. The houses don't have running water. They don't have electricity either. Each day they will walk down the hill, fill a bucket and carry it back to the house. At my friend's house they then pour it into a large pot and then return for more. She says it takes three trips to fill the pot. Apparently, after the land was given, the government declared that there was the risk of landslides in the area and that it would be unsuitable to put in water or electricity connections. I have been told that a few attempts have been made, prior to elections, to put water connections in but these attempts have ground to a halt after each election.

At least it is not too long a walk from there up to my friend's house, though the incline does increase at this point. Then up a few steps and you're there! A perfect example of the premise that the most beautiful places take a bit of extra effort to get to. My friend lives here with her mother - her father having passed away years earlier - and other family members live nearby. Whenever I have come, it has been to a house of women - smiling, happy, welcoming women. My friend has clearly learnt from her mother, because both always carry a beautiful, big smile, and it seems to rub off on anyone who walks through the door. It's not an empty house; it's a house of happiness.

It's a great house - well-kept with a sweet little garden out the front. It's not a shack, they have worked hard and waited patiently to build something suitable. It's not fancy compared to what you might be used to but it's got what is needed. The main room has a table and a comfy place for guests to sit, while a large, open window lets in cheery sunshine and a cooling breeze. There's a kitchen and also, in faith, a bathroom which doubles as a storeroom while waiting for the day when there might be running water. Because they can't build back, right or left - the house is built hard against solid rock - they've built up. Go upstairs and you get a beautiful view looking down from the hill across all the greenery. Words at the back of my mind try to push their way forward - something about 'meek' and 'inheriting the earth'?

We are welcomed in and my friend's mother is soon busy making tea for us all and putting together a meal of cake and bananas. There's more than we all could eat. My friend takes our new worker outside with a bucket of water so she can wash her hands and face and freshen up after our travels. That simple act of hospitality takes on so much more meaning when you realise that it is one-third of their water-holding capacity, one trip down the hill and back, given away so generously, without holding back.

And then it is down to business. I am finally home at about 7pm, tired but satisfied. And then - I should know better, I really should - I look at facebook. I look, and then all the energy that remains in me at the end of a long day seems to be sucked right out. How can we who have so much complain about so little, while those who have so little seem to live with such satisfaction? (Though, don't be fooled; I know full well these are generalisations to which there are definitely exceptions!) Why are we standing in the shower (and a hot shower at that!), whinging about our day, while elsewhere someone is giving away a bucket of their hard-earned water and their smile doesn't waver at all? It doesn't bother me so much that we do it, - we all have moments where we just throw away words - it's just that sometimes I wonder if we even realise that our grievances are so petty. It's not that we get upset, it's that we get upset out of proportion.

Now I'm worried I might be sounding sanctimonious or hypocritical (whinging about whinging) or I might have got you thinking, "Is she talking about me? She's talking about me, isn't she?" No, I'm not talking about you. So I wanted to confess how I have caught myself getting upset out of proportion and tell you about the kick in the pants that I got which I now use to remind myself whenever I start getting upset out of proportion.

I had an early start for work one morning and a two hour drive ahead of me. I hadn't been getting much time off and I was already tired before I left. I was expecting the day to be hot and long and I knew that when I got home I would be expecting an overnight guest. I must confess, I started to get a bit whiny with myself. Oh, how much I do! Oh, how much more I deserve! I just wanted to get things over and done with. (Oh, how bad I feel as I write this confession!)

The people we were going to see had left their home to go and work in a difficult area, helping others. They have been there for several years now. Their work isn't easy but they keep at it. Several times, someone has come along and offered to help them with what they're doing but eventually those people have left again because they found the work too difficult or needed something that provided more financially. As we spoke together, the lady broke into tears. She told of how discouraging it was to have people leave them time after time. She also spoke of how isolating it felt to be struggling with this work alone.

So, as you might imagine, I was hanging my head in shame at right about this point. Here I had been feeling like I was the noble martyr for going out and doing for one day what she was doing every day of her life. How humbling. It threw a whole lot of perspective at me that I thought it might be good to hang on to. Since then, whenever I become tempted to let the things that are irking me get out of proportion, I remember that morning. A bit of perspective makes a world of difference.

What I could hear her yearning for was a sense of being connected, of not being alone. And I suspect part of what is behind the generosity and satisfaction that fills my friend's house is that sense of community looking out for each other. And I suppose our problems do start to blow out of proportion when we lose sight of the wonderful things we do have, like the people around us who support us. One thing I have learnt from Facebook is that even though there are a multitude of things that people can say that can drag us down, and even though there might be a small number of people with something positive to say, just one word from a person like that will lift us higher than any negativity around. I'll take a person like that wherever I can find them and I want to be one of those people. So I suppose, for now, Facebook gets to stay. Besides, I like the games.

THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES

2011-08-20T18:08:00.008+05:30

A WONDERFUL WEEKEND

2011-03-14T14:02:00.004+05:30

I have a confession to make. These days it's getting harder to get around to blogging (that's it, that's the confession; I'm sorry, I imagine you were hoping for something juicier). I love writing but it gets hard to find the time to do it and you have to come up with an idea to write about. I'm not even entirely sure that anyone is reading what I write!

Lucky for you (yes, consider your good fortune), every now and then inspiration comes my way. It is hard to find that inspiration when a steady routine guides your days, but when the unexpected or the different drops by, it gives me something to talk about. Last weekend we went away on a trip to Anuradapura. For the first time in quite a while, we found ourselves exploring a place we had never been before. This is the perfect circumstance to discover new wonders all around you. So today's blog is a tribute to the Wonders of my Weekend. I hope you enjoy my WoWs!

WoW #1: The first WoW really deserves to go to how much driving can be packed into my day. We left the house around 7am on Friday and drove out to drop the kids at school. Fifty minutes later we were driving back past the house on our way out to Chilaw, an hour and a half's drive in the other direction. After teaching there for three and a half hours, we drove back, past the house and on to the school to pick up the kids. Then back to the house to collect Darren. An hour later and we're driving through Chilaw again (only an hour this time because we're going through Chilaw town, not heading out to where my class is) and then about another hour further to get to Puttalam. This is as far North as I have been so far. Puttalam was one of the places we went to when we first arrived and I remember being anxious, hoping that we were not getting too close to the war zone. Sigh! The naiveties of youth. But this time we were pressing on further, quite a deal further. Driving on for another three hours, we finally arrived at Anuradapura at 8pm. In all fairness, I believe Cedric deserves the honours of WoW #1. Hail to the bus driver, bus driver man!

WoW #2: On the morning drive to Chilaw, we went past four young blokes standing by the side of the road, waiting for the bus or something. They all wore jeans of matching cut - one in fluorescent pink, one in bright orange, one in deep red and the fourth in royal purple. I would tell you whether or not this was a hip and funky fashion statement but, the truth is, the glare from their trousers rendered visual observations impossible.

WoW #3: Cows on the road are quite commonplace in Sri Lanka. Even so, the sight of an entire herd moseying along at their own pace, quite oblivious of the traffic weaving a way around them, right in Chilaw's town centre is still pretty amusing. These were the temple cows. They don't have owners; they have been donated to the local Buddhist temple so they are allowed to roam free. Luckily for them, the Buddhists don't practice animal sacrifice.

WoW #4: I always find paddy fields pretty WoW - they seem to stretch forever and they look so soft when they're green - but when they give way to surprise you with a reservoir, that's definitely an audible 'WoW!' It's pretty breathtaking to be driving along a long strip of road with no roadsides, only water stretching as far as the eye can see on either side and scattered trees growing up out of the depths.

WoW #5: An eerie WoW, a strip of road lined with house after deserted house - roofless, doorless, windowless, crumbling. Once these were homes, but I was told they had been deserted during the terrors of war, when people did not want to be unprotected in their homes at night. Families had fled to find another place to live. These homes are on the land bordering national park and nature happily moved right on in. Many of the homes are completely filled by greenery as mother nature reclaims her territory. Also on the side of the road are signs warning that this is a place where wild elephants may wander - as if these people didn't have enough to contend with. Further along the road, where there is less cover of national park for enemies to suddenly appear from, homes are still occupied. These houses are surrounded by elephant fences.

WoW #6: Bottles of soft drink for 30 rupee (30 cents)each. I don't really need to say anything more than that, do I? This fellow is now guaranteed that we are going to stop by his simple, dried-mud shop every time we pass. Adding to the WoW factor was sitting out the front of his s hop, enjoying the drinks and the breeze, while my kids played cricket with his kids, waiting for the adults to finish their drinks.

WoW #7: I've said it before, I'll say it again: paddy fields are pretty WoW. Even more so when the sun is setting over them in the most beautiful and iridescent of colours that I've only seen matched once before - by four boys in multi-colour pants standing by the side of the road on the way to Chilaw. Wish I had a photo of this one for you.

WoW #8: Not a bad piece of architecture. Plus, the monkeys hanging around were huge. I think they were on guard duty - when they weren't eating out of the bin.

WoW #9: On Saturday we stopped at a nice hotel for lunch and a swim in the pool. Most hotels will let non-guests use the pool for a small fee and many will even let you use the pool for free if you have lunch at their restaurant. The hotel had beautiful grounds and the pool was massive - and we had it all to ourselves! (Hmm, I better stop telling you all how wonderful Sri Lanka is; I might have to start sharing). I think I was even more impressed with the change rooms and found myself wondering how much they might charge me to bunk in there overnight. Not to say that our guest-house was bad (in fact, it was beautifully clean and looked after), nor that this hotel was so very fantastic (although it was pretty great) - but it had HOT WATER . . . in the change room! . . . and it had a hair dryer. As you can tell, I'm easily impressed.

WoW #10: Having Sunday lunch at a friend's place just outside of Anuradapura. This lunch invitation was the reason we found ourselves exploring Anuradapura for the weekend. I believe we invited ourselves. Glad we did too. First the boys enjoyed a game of cricket with some neighbourhood kids. Then our hosts showed us to a table set up in a breezy place under the shade of a large jak tree, laden with jakfruit, spread with a traditional Sri Lankan feast. I don't think a fancy restaurant could do better. An awesome meal with awesome company. And I still got to stop and visit my new friend with the 30 rupee soft drinks on the way home.

WoW #11: (Why stop at 10?!). We were not the only ones travelling North for the weekend. A Catholic church up around Puttalam way was celebrating a large festival that weekend and many people from all around the island were travelling up to enjoy the weekends festivities. It was easy to identify them. They were the ones in the vans crammed with family members, with the load of camping necessities - like mats, plastic chairs and cooking pots - tied to the roof. Anyway, as we came back into Chilaw at the end of the weekend, we drove across a bridge over a large river. I have never seen so many people in a river. This was clearly the place to stop when everyone has just had enough of driving. The river bank was dotted with vans in the places where people had decided to stop, set up a circle of chairs and enjoy a bit of a picnic and a play in the river. Everyone seemed to be having so much fun I just wanted to stop and join them. Unfortunately for us - and I don't think I would have convinced Darren anyway - we needed to get ourselves home.

So that was my Weekend of Wonders. I just love finding delight in the simple things of life that can still make you say WoW!

THE NIGHT OF THE POLECAT

2011-01-13T14:33:00.003+05:30

This month is proving to be a month of anniversaries and celebrations. The most recent was last night, celebrating the good news of the birth of my fourth niece. Almost upon us is the 10th birthday of our eldest son, growing up so quickly. Almost forgotten was our 14th wedding anniversary, trying to slip by unnoticed amongst the New Year season and the upcoming birthdays and yet cherished more than the rest. And, nestled inauspiciously in the midst of all this, the third anniversary of our arrival in Sri Lanka.

As we embark on our fourth year in Sri Lanka, I think it is reasonable to say that there is little that surprises us anymore. Our eyes have grown accustomed to the sights that would make a newcomer point and exclaim in wonder and amazement. No, we're not really surprised by the number of people on that motorbike. We barely notice the enormity of the coconut collection defying the laws of physics to remain piled in the back of that truck. These days we're lucky if the kids even bother to look out the window when someone spots an elephant by the side of the road.

So it was quite delightful when, last Friday night, we experienced the excitement of another quirky 'first' in Sri Lanka, that reminded us once again that we are indeed living in a land of adventure. It all started with the sound of tremendous crashing and shattering at about 10:30pm. I had been painting in a room that I have turned into a little studio and Darren was reading in the bedroom. Wondering what Darren could have dropped and smashed so very badly, I entered the bedroom only to find him staring questioningly at me.

"So you didn't do it, then?" I asked.

"No. I thought it was you." The kids had long been asleep in bed, so we made our way downstairs to investigate.

Once downstairs, it was quite obvious what had been broken. One of the ceiling squares lay smashed all over the dining room floor and we could peer up into the roof cavity through the hole where once it was. The next question was, what caused it to fall.

My immediate concern was that somebody may have been trying to break into the house, and yet I knew full well that our ceiling would not support any person, not even a child, who might try to walk over it. They would not have made the distance and they would be lying, rather uncomfortably, alongside the shattered pieces of tile. Still, I wanted the comforting reassurance of hearing my husband and protector telling me that there was no way this could have been done by an intruder.

Before I had even finished the question, we heard noises coming from the study. Not only had we had intruders, but they were at large in our house. Now, this would be scary at the best of times, but this was 10:30 at night. I was wearing a simple beach dress, that to any Sri Lankan would be considered a bathing dress, worn when showering. Darren, having retired for the night, was clad only in his boxer shorts. Not the type of attire that one would want to face a potential attacker in. Yet my fearless husband, hero of the hour, pressed onward to face our foe.

As I cowered in the corner, I heard him say, "It's just a cat," followed by, "No it's not, it's a really, big . . . "

Now, the only word I could expect to follow this was 'rat' and I was considering if I would want to see a rat so large that it could be mistaken for a cat when Darren concluded his summary of the situation with, "Actually, I don't know what it is."

Peering into the unlit study, I could see a large, furry creature with an unusually pointy nose and a long, thick tail. My immediate thoughts were, "Well, it's a possum. Oh hang on, we're not in Australia right now. Are there any possums in Sri Lanka?" Darren flicked on the light and the creature hid itself behind our curtains, furry tail hanging down like a rope. He laughed (Darren, not the creature) and said, "Well, he's done a big poo on your desk." Aw man!

We decided that it must be a mongoose, as that was the only furry Sri Lankan creature that we knew that might be mistaken for a possum. The only times we've ever seen a mongoose have been when we were driving and we've seen one streak across the road (no, not in the same way it might if it were at a televised sporting event!). At those speeds and distances, it is difficult to get a good look at a mongoose, so we weren't really sure what a mongoose looks like. Still, the creature needed to be identified. A friend of ours who has lived in Sri Lanka longer than us was later able to correct us and told us that what we had come across was a polecat. Thanks to the wonders of Google, we learnt that it was actually a civet - a common palm civet, to be precise; polecats being more of a European critter - but that the name 'polecat' was still the name they usually went by.

So now that we had assessed the situation - big critter in study; big pooh on desk - the question was what to do now. We shut the door to the study to prevent escape (the polecat's, not ours) and to buy us some thinking time. On the other side of the study is a door that leads to the front yard. We figured the thing to do would be to open that door and shepherd the polecat out that way. Unfortunately, being late, we had already locked this door and we could not unlock it from the outside. One of us (being Darren, of course) was going to have to enter the room with the polecat, unlock the door and then convince the polecat to exit it. Having no experience with polecats, we had to base our plan of action on the next closest thing somewhat within our range of experience - moving a possum. Not that we have ever had to move a possum either, but I hear those things can get quite feisty and scratchy, given the inclination. Darren thought that changing into more polecat-removing attire before any further action should be the next step.

Minutes later, Darren reappeared downstairs, looking ready for a game of basketball. It's extremely rare that we wear shoes and socks around here but Darren wasn't about to risk a polecat nibbling on his toes. He grabbed a towel and my laundry bucket. I was a little anxious that any mission involving a polecat, a towel and a laundry bucket was destined to finish in disaster so, before Darren opened the door and crossed the point of no return, I called, "Wait!" I mean, this is a time for a camera.

Minutes later, I reappeared downstairs, trusty camera in hand. Right, now we're ready. Slowly, we opened the door and assessed the scene. The polecat was now hanging upside down - or rather, I think he had somehow braced himself - between the wall and my desk. We took a few snaps and then I positioned myself bravely up on a chair while Darren unlocked and opened the front door.

Now it was 'do or die'; now was the time to co-erce the wild, untamed beast of nature back to the wilds from whence it had come. Darren backed away from the door and, docilely, the wild beast trundled obligingly through and off into the night.

Darren assessed the situation with, "I think he's not quite right."

"Well, he did just fall from the ceiling," I replied, hoping that civet concussion doesn't take long to shake off.

Of course, this simply left 'Operation Clean-up' to be done. Naturally, Darren declared that, seeing as he had been the brave hero to face the beast, 'Operation Clean-up' was my responsibility. And, let's face it, she who owns the computer desk is always going to be the one most desirous that it is free from pooh. So, armed with paper towels and plastic bags and disinfectants and buckets and mops, I went into battle. I quickly noticed that I could follow the flight of the polecat, if I had wanted, for the poor, frightened creature had left a trail of pooh behind him as he went.

"I think he's not quite right," I called to Darren, who had made a rapid retreat from the study.

"Well, he did just fall from the ceiling," Darren called back.

Then from outside we could hear the sound of scuffling up the drain pipe and shuffling in the roof. I guess he's okay then.

The next morning, Jaymon woke up and saw the hole in the ceiling. "I think I've found where the roof has been leaking," he reported.

"That's not where the water's been leaking," and we told him about the large furry creature that had fallen down from there in the night.

He looked at us dubiously. "Are you tricking?"

Thank goodness for photographic evidence.

THAT'S SO CLICHÈ

2010-11-24T09:37:00.006+05:30

Clichѐs. We all know they are trite; that's what makes them, well, clichѐ. Yet, how often do we take these 'one-size-fits-all' expressions and let them direct our actions.

Consider the clichѐ, " I'd rather give a hand up than a hand-out." Now, don't get me wrong, there's a lot of wisdom behind this expression and the original author must have given themselves a pat on the back for their clever play on words. I bet that person is currently wishing s/he had a dollar for every time someone uttered that sentence, but it is worth noting that nobody ever remembers the author of a clichѐ.

Sorry, I digress. When I first moved to Sri Lanka, I heard many different takes on the whole 'hand-outs vs hands up' debate. Modern thought usually falls towards the side of the 'hands up' camp - and for sound reason too. Hand-outs rarely change the world. In fact, I've seen many hand-outs simply go to waste. People would rather use their money on a strategy that will bring about long-lasting change.

And yet, although I'm pretty confident that most people might espouse the 'hands up' philosophy, I've also seen that many are quite quick to jump into the 'hand-out' boat. Well-intentioned foreigners throwing money around to anyone they meet (He's not poor, you silly, he's wearing a sarong because he finds it comfortable!) and encouraging fat, little children to follow you around the street with hands stretched out, calling, "Bon-bon (lollies)". What do you think I am - a vending machine? If you are one of those who are uncomfortable with the behaviour of certain unscrupulous individuals you might meet when travelling overseas, maybe we should first consider the behaviour of uninformed foreigners. What would you do if a stranger came up to you in the streets, insisting they give you $50? I don't know of anyone who gave Kevin Rudd his $1000 back, saying, "It's okay, Kevin. I'm doing all right, thanks. How about you keep the money and put it towards something else."

So are you trying to guess which camp I fall into? I bet you reckon I'm a 'hands up' girl, right? Then consider the following. How helpful is access to education to a child who hasn't eaten this week and is not eating tonight either? Is a man going to be able to fully appreciate an income-generating opportunity if in his mind he is worried about his current medical condition. Income generated next week is not going to buy the medicine he needs today.

Which camp do I fall into? Neither. I've heard the 'hand up' argument used as an excuse to ignore an immediate need; I've seen hand-outs that have produced nothing but an attitude of greed and entitlement. I've seen hand-ups that have changed the way of life for whole families; I've seen smiles of relief, encouragement and hope break upon the faces of people receiving hand-outs, small but timely. Does one size ever really fit all?

Consider this pearl of wisdom: "Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime." So wise. So true. So important. So valuable.

But what if the man lives in the middle of the desert?

What if he can't afford (or find or construct) a fishing rod?

What if his fishing rod breaks?

What if the man is too old or sick to fish?

What if the man is allergic to fish?

What if the fish are being poisoned by the large factory upstream?

What if the man is not a man but a lady? (I know feminists might argue that this shouldn't make a difference but, let's face it, in some societies, it does.)

What if the man is religiously or ethically opposed to fishing?

What if it is raining and the man will not go fishing in the rain?

What if the man just doesn't want to go fishing?

What if he just wants you to keep bringing fish?

The collective wisdom of the ages pats its answers into handy little sayings; we adopt the ones we like and - hey presto! - a clichѐ is born. We say it a few times until it rolls easily off the tongue and then use it as we wish to justify our actions. Of course, the problem is that when the things we say are said without thought, they become meaningless and irrelevant - clichѐ.

One size fits all? I'm sure we'd all be skeptical about that.

WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD? TO FETCH A LADDER

2010-11-11T09:10:00.004+05:30

Here's a tale of one of our businesses that I've been dying to share with you.

Some of you may remember Winnetha. She was the very first small business we helped start. Originally, she was buying fabric remnants to sew together into pillowcases. She would sell these pillowcases to owners of small local shops. The pillowcases would take some time to make on her foot-powered machine, especially when the fabric remnants were small. Unfortunately, she was not allowed to open the bags of remnants at the factories and she was often disappointed to return home and discover that the bag she had paid for was filled with remnants that were too small even for patchwork pillowcases. And all of this for 20 rupees profit a day.

But Winnetha never complained. In fact, whenever we went to visit her, she had a huge smile on her face and loved to tell us how well the business was going. One day, she got a new opportunity - hemming napkins for hotels and restaurants. This was a great opportunity for her because a supplier bought the napkins to her door and collected them when complete. She did not have to prepare the fabric in any way, she simply needed to hem the fabric squares. She could do these much more quickly than the pillowcases, she didn't need to find buyers and her profit increased dramatically. She was able to buy a motor for her foot-powered machine and then upgrade to an electric machine with more stitching options. And this brings me to the tale of the chickens.

As Winnetha's business began to grow she was able to invest in some laying chickens. These chickens would provide eggs for the household and also some for sale. Darren was visiting her one day and she explained what was involved in caring for the chickens. First she fed them - but she didn't just scatter seed around for them to find, as you might expect. She started calling, "Enna, enna, enna!" (Come, come, come!") and, sure enough, like a litter of well-trained puppies, they came to eat their meal out of a little bowl.

Then Winnetha explained how she needed to put them to bed. You see, Winnetha could not keep her chickens in a standard chicken coop for fear of them being eaten by snakes or mongooses . . . mongeese? . . . mongi? whatever, you get the point. So, to protect them from ending up in that great chicken coop in the sky, these chickens have a great chicken coop in the trees. Suspended from the trees is a cubby house that would make your kids envious, ready and waiting for when the tired little chickies are ready for bed.

"But how do the chickens reach their treetop bed?" I hear you ask. Well, they need a ladder, of course (silly people, do I need to explain everything?!). As night approaches, Winnetha leans the ladder on the chicken coop, calls the chickens and they climb their way up to bed. Oh, I see . . . wait . . . what?! Yep, that's what I said, folks, these clever little chickens climb their way up the rickety ladder, all by themselves, and happily pop themselves to bed! Now, I admit I had a hard time believing this story when I first heard it. Surely, you mean Winnetha carries them up? No? But how do they stop from themselves from falling off the ladder? Do they hold on with their wings? Hang on, I'm just trying to picture a line of commando chickens climbing their way up the crude ladder. I think these chickens would survive a bootcamp better than I would. They would probably be up the ladder in no time and then could still drop and give me twenty. But after extensive questioning I was assured that this story was completely true - the chickens do indeed climb the ladder unaided and put themselves to bed. And then Winnetha removes the ladder to stop the enemy sneaking up in the dark of the night.

So what happens in the morning? Does Winnetha come and replace the ladder for the chickens to climb on down? The answer, (which is 'no', in case you also were wondering), comes accompanied with looks of amusement at my silliness. They've got wings, they just flap their way down when morning comes. (Of course, silly me!). Well, what is to stop them flapping their way down in the night? I am told they won't do that at night time, they might get eaten. I'm thinking these chickens go to bed better than my children do.

In fact, as Jaymon climbs onto the top bunk to put himself to bed at night, I can't help but think, 'Sure he can do it, but would he be so good if his arms were made of feathers?'.

PS: Darren just reminded me about an important element to this story. So as not to leave you misinformed, I felt the need for this important post-script. If you ever find yourself in Colombo or some other city-region of Sri Lanka and find, with some disappointment, that the chickens do not climb ladders, please do not doubt this story of ladder-climbing chickens. Apparently, only rural chickens are able to climb ladders. It seems that their city-cousins, sadly, cannot include ladder-climbing in their CVs as it does not fall in their skills set. Oh yes, there is a difference between city and country chickens - and it's not just that the city chickens like to spend their time in art galleries and chic little cafes whilst the country chickens prefer to go cow-tipping. City chickens prefer to take the elevator.

LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL

2010-11-08T12:24:00.004+05:30

Once again we've been able to enjoy having a few friends around for a visit. It's been great having good company tag along to work with us, pitching and helping out. Sure made my life easier! Thanks :)

HOW MANY SRI LANKANS DOES IT TAKE TO CUT DOWN A TREE?

2010-10-12T13:56:00.004+05:30

In the process of getting small businesses off the ground, I see various businesses that are profitable in ways that would not be possible in Australia. Because labour is so cheap here, there are many jobs that would not even be available in Australia.

Sarath has started a business selling firewood to the roof tile factory. They, in turn, use this fuel in the kilns to fire the clay tiles. When I was first given the application it looked like a simple enough concept, or so I thought.

As part of our procedure, Priantha or I conduct an interview to find out more about the family and the business. Now that Priantha has been working with me for six months, I usually send him alone or allow him to lead the interview. He is able to assess the business and he can communicate much more easily.

Once we have all the details I sit down with Hayley, Priantha, Kanchana and sometimes Ronald, our driver, as he was previously a manager for a large business here in Sri Lanka. We discuss the details of the business, if they fall within our criteria and where any problems may lie in the business or their ability to repay the loan.

Sometimes cultural differences and practices become obvious and we need to assess whether the practices make for bad business or if they are just a different way of doing things. To make this judgment, I like to make sure I have a clear understanding of how the business works. In this particular instance, my preconceptions were making it difficult for me to see precisely how the business would work.

I started asking questions to try and work around this impasse. To start off on the right foot, I began with something that I was sure I understood, like the fact that Sarath goes and chops down the tree. I assumed Sarath must want the money to buy a chainsaw. Confidently I put the question out there, and prepared to write down the yes and move on to other details.

"No" was the answer from all the Sri Lankans at the table.

This was going to be a tough day. Wanting to put this behind me, I thought the best way forward was to find out who did cut down the tree.

"The man with the chainsaw," they replied, looking at me as if I really didn't know anything about business.

So I moved on to what I thought was the next obvious idea, getting the wood to the factory.

"Does he want the money to buy a landmaster to take the wood to the factory" I asked undetered.

Once again, the Sri Lankans look at each other, have a quick chat in Sinhala and then reply, "No."

Naturally I wanted to know who does take the wood to the factory. Once again the obvious reply, "The man with the lorry. A landmaster is too small"

Strike two. Wanting to sound like I understood the scenario so far, I gave them a rundown of what I had learnt. So the Chainsaw Man rings Sarath and tells him that he has a tree to cut down. Sarath pays him to chop it down and rings the Lorry Man to come and collect the wood and he pays him. So thats what he wants the money for?"

"No"

"What?! So what does he want the money for?"

At this point everybody is laughing and convinced that I am in no position to be giving out loans.

Once again they try to explain it

"Tree person calls Sarath and tells him they have a tree they need removed. Sarath calls the Chainsaw Man and the Guy With The Lorry"

At this point, Hayley, passing through on her way to the biscuit jar, interjects. "Why don't you call the Tree Man, Greg, Chainsaw Man, Bob, and Lorry Guy, Steve." She is an invaluable part of this process, given her skills in giving characters names.

Trying to salvage the situation, I thought that finding out the cost of things would be an easy way to distract them from my previous inability to grasp simple Sri Lankan business.

"First Greg calls Sarath and tells him that he has a tree that needs removing?"

"Yes"

"Wohoo! Great! Now I am getting somewhere. So, how much does Sarath get for chopping down the tree?"

Now I had them looking confused and there was quite a bit of Sinhala discussion going back and forth. Finally they aswered, "Sorry? We don't understand. Sarath has to pay for the tree. That's why he needs the money."

"He pays to chop someone's tree down?"

"Yes."

At this stage we all are laughing. We are amused that the Sri Lankan tree removalist would pay to do his job. The Sri Lankans are amused that Australians would pay to give their tree to someone else. It's all so weird.

Pushing on, I continue in my attempt to clarify the situation. "Sarath pays Greg to remove his tree. Sarath pays Bob to chop down the tree. Sarath loads the wood into Steve's lorry and takes it to the factory, where they pay Sarath and he pays Steve.

"Yes!"

However I was still perplexed. "So why doesn't Sarath cut the tree down himself?" I asked.

More incredulous looks and laughter. "Bob only charges a little money and Sarath does not have the time!"

An hour after we started I decided to leave it there and ask the most important question. "Is it a good business?"

"Yes, it is very good" came the quick reply.

THE WEEKEND THAT WASN'T

2010-10-05T14:24:00.011+05:30

Isn't it the way?! When I have time to blog, I have little to blog about. When things are busy and there is much to report, I don't have the time to sit and tell you about them. Well, today I am under the weather and unable to drum up the energy or inspiration for any more administrative tasks, so I am ignoring the waiting tasks and writing to you about my weekend instead.

Friday was Children's Day - if I have understood correctly - and this was the reason for our busy weekend. Despite having taught a class in a nearby town on Friday evening, I was up bright and early on Saturday - a scenario I would normally do my best to avoid. We had been invited as special guests to an Children's Art Exhibition in honour of Children's Day.

Not that the Art Exhibition was bright and early; in fact, it was at a very reasonable hour. It's just that it was a three-hour drive away. However, we were meeting a friend who said he knew a short-cut and that 2 hours would be sufficient. Ah, the Sri Lankan short-cut - we've been fooled before. I am coming to understand that short-cut actually translates to alternative route and there is no guarantee that any time is saved at all. In fact, chances are high that it could take longer.

So, at the designated time, we were still far from the designated venue and, as Darren's mobile is just another thing in the long list of broken appliances/machines in our life of late, we were unable to contact anyone to say we were on our way. Finally, three hours after our trip began, we arrived at the venue with profuse apologies. Next time I will place more confidence in my own sense of time.

The Art Exhibition was a most enjoyable occasion. It started with a presentation of flowers for each of the honoured guests and the lighting of the candles in the brass lamp. This is a tradition that is part of any special event in Sri Lanka. Several candles are placed on an elaborate brass stand and special guests will each light a candle before proceedings begin. After the candles were lit, the children welcomed us and gave a speech to all the guests. Then the special guests were given a tour of the exhibition by the children before it was opened to all the guests for their enjoyment. I find Sri Lankans to be quite artistic, as a general rule, and the standard of work presented was very high.

After we had all perused the artworks, there was a singing competition, followed by a game of musical chairs. There was also a parade of a herd of water buffalo heading down the road in front of the venue, heading for a field to graze in. Okay, that wasn't actually part of the day's program, but it was also a bit of a highlight for me. I enjoyed watching these creatures tramping past but I was also a little anxious, hoping that my children, who were out playing in the nearby field, would have the good sense to get out of the way. They did.

As the day's program drew to a close, there were speeches given to the children by the Sinhala-speaking special guests and then awards for the winners of the art competition and the singing competition. We enjoyed a delicious lunch with our hosts and then it was time to begin the long journey home.

On the way home, Cedric decided he would try a short-cut (you would think we would know better by now!). Goodness knows if this short-cut would have saved us time but it did get us a little lost. I wasn't too bothered. I fell asleep, as I usually do on long drives home, but I was disturbed from time to time by Darren, with his Google maps, and Cedric, with his own plans, debating which roads to follow and which roads to turn down. Unfortunately, all debates became moot when we did finally find our way back to the main road. A large school in that area was having a special parade to celebrate Children's Day. Roads were blocked as children marched down the Colombo Road (the main highway from Negombo to Colombo) on floats, under banners, with displays, holding posters. It was all very lovely, if you weren't all tired and ready for home and wondering if there ever was an end to this parade. The roads became choked with traffic as vehicles tried to edge themselves into pole position for after the parade had passed and the vehicles on the highway tried to maneuvre past the marching children. Finally, we were able to get back on our way home, all thankful that we were heading away from Colombo and not part of the massive queue of standstill traffic trying to make its way in.

Now, don't think an important weekend like this would let you get away with one appointment. The following day we were up bright and early once more, ready to head another couple of hours in the other direction from home. This time our meeting was being held in a small jungle village. This is the kind that my kids like because they get to go exploring - follow the path one way to rice paddies, the other way to jungle. I thought I would join them for a bit of an explore - partly because it was reminiscent of all the running through the bush that I used to love doing when I was a kid growing up in a small, country town and partly because I thought it would be a good opportunity to impart some of the wisdom I gathered running around in the bush in summer and learning how to avoid snake bite. So, the intrepid explorers can't have gone much further than a few metres into the jungle when they came - almost - face to face with a face-sized spider, hanging face height! Lesson effectively learnt - always keep alert; your eyes open and your wits about you. The intrepid explorers beat a hasty retreat - not too hasty, because lesson 2 was 'don't panic and then step on a snake while you are running away!' - closer to civilisation, but not without a photo first. I felt like such a hero, brave enough to take the photo, but thank goodness for good zoom!

By mid-afternoon, our hosts had an unexpected situation to deal with so we bid a timely adieu and made our way back home again. The place was beginning to look unfamiliar. What do you mean the weekend's over now? Where did it go? Sigh, it's only a week until there's another one. We had a fantastic time with all the things we did, but thank goodness the next weekend is expected to be a lot quieter!

SIGNS OF THE TIMES

2010-09-30T20:13:00.003+05:30

WHEN THE AUSSIES COME TO TOWN

2010-09-02T13:00:00.007+05:30

We've once again been able to enjoy the good company and helping hands of a group of Aussie helpers. This post is in their honour.

GO FIGURE

2010-06-29T20:54:00.003+05:30

Driving from Negombo to Moratuwa - a drive that takes me through the capital - I have discovered that I pass at least 100 people every minute. This count is based upon timing how quickly I can count 100 people. Therefore, it doesn't include passengers in buses nor people in crowds that are too large for me to count as we drive past. Neither is this an average; I discovered that I could easily count 100 people every minute. Based on this, during the five hours of a return journey to Moratuwa, I pass at least 30 000 people.

The drive from Negombo to Yakwila for my Tamil lessons takes me in the opposite direction, out to rural areas. Here I find that it takes me two minutes to pass 100 people (again, discounting buses). This result has been confirmed by repeated tests. Therefore, in the hour and a half that it takes to do a return journey to Yakwila, I pass at least 4 500 people. Not in the vicinity of the previous figure but still rather impressive, considering location.

Both trips produced a tally of around 70 stray dogs. The Yakwila trip tallied around 35 cows, compared to the Moratuwa trip, which tallied around 40. I found it surprising, even given the difference in lengths of the journeys, that there were more cows to be seen driving in the urban areas than in the rural areas. In fact, the cows out Yakwila way were usually in pairs whereas it was the urban areas where I saw herds. Both trips produced sightings of one goat and one cat.

I think these figures show two things. Firstly, population density in Sri Lanka is on a scale that would blow the mind of the untravelled Australian - even in built-up areas, where the population is still readily visible, as compared to Australia, where the population is usually inside vehicles or buildings. In Sri Lanka, you are constantly reminded that you are never alone. I guess that's what you get for fitting a population about the size of Australia's inside a land area about the size of Tasmania. Secondly, I need to find some new past-times to occupy myself during my many long journeys.

WELL, I NEVER . . .

2010-06-07T17:06:00.003+05:30

TEN FOODS I HAD NEVER TRIED BEFORE MOVING TO SRI LANKA

1) King Coconut Juice. A very thick, clear liquid; king coconut juice is not the same as coconut milk. It is very filling and I can not drink a whole coconut's worth. It doesn't have a strong flavour but it can take you quite by surprise if, when served in a glass, you thought you were drinking water.

2) Salted Cordial. This must be an acquired taste. The problem is that when you are offered cordial you can never know if it is salted or not. There has been many a time when we have gratefully accepted a drink only to given a salty surprise.

3) Peppered Pineapple. Sri Lankan pineapple has to be the best pineapple in the world. Why on earth they want to pepper it is beyond me!

4) Wattalapan. Wattalapan is a gelatinous pudding, a bit like a creme caramel. It is sweet, brown and nutty. Sri Lankan dessert menus are never very long - dessert is typically fruit salad, perhaps with some icecream - so this traditional dish is a bit of a local celebrity.

5) Kottu Roti. A mix of roti (flat bread), vegetables, chicken and spices, chopped into thin slices by some pretty impressive knife work, cooked on a grill and served in a pile. Yummo! We prefer ours without the bones but we are told that Sri Lankans like to see the chicken bones in the kottu roti so they know the cook isn't tricking them by adding poor chicken meat. The man we buy kottu roti from was so confused by our request for no bones that, for a while, he was sending the bones along to us in another bag so that we could be reassured that we were getting what we paid for.

6) Curried Mango. Not for me, but if you're a fan of mangoes and curries, it might appeal. As with the peppered pineapple, I'm not quite sure why anyone would want to do this to such a delicious piece of fruit.

7) Cream Soda. Not red creaming soda, just creaming soda, this soft drink is a pure sugar hit. Needless to explain then, I love it.

8) Brinjol. A vegetable somewhat akin to a zucchini (which I love) and an eggplant (which I hate). I know a guy who prepares the yummiest brinjol. I'm yet to make him teach me how.

9) Breadfruit. Breadfruit, when cooked and prepared, is a bit like potato. The aforementioned man cooks it with coconut milk and spices to make a very tasty dish. Once again, I'm not in on the secret. Perhaps some cooking lessons are in order. Don't confuse breadfruit with jackfruit, which is a large prickly fruit that looks a bit like durian and is, in my opinion, rather dry and tasteless.

10) Kangaroo Meat. We brought some back by request for some friends of ours. They had tried it in Australia and their children had loved it. It wasn't that bad, actually, considering that my mind connects kangaroo meat with the horribly smelly dead animal that my dad once got to feed the dog with. Not the greatest though, a little chewy. I think it was the marinade that I liked. Still, I think it is nicely ironic that my first - and probably only - taste of kangaroo meat was an overseas experience.

THE THONG THEORY

2010-06-04T17:51:00.009+05:30

I have a theory that the world is filled with, for lack of a better word, a 'magic' that is all around us, masqueraded in the mundane. I'm not talking magic like sorcery and mysticism, but more a sense of wonderment that we only experience when we allow ourselves to be aware of it. It's nothing fancy or expensive and it rarely announces itself and yet it displays itself every day, right under our very noses. Allow me to illustrate by explaining the 'thong theory'.

First of all, let me be clear that in the Aussie vernacular, 'thong' refers to an item of footwear, not an article of ladies underwear. A significant difference, it is true, so for readers of other nationalities it might be appropriate to read 'slipper' or 'flip-flop' in place of the word 'thong'. Now that we are on the same page, I shall continue. Imagine, if you will, a single thong, marked with the grubby outline of a foot; it is probably old, perhaps even battered. Following the pattern of one of life's phenomena, it finds itself awash at sea. It's origin is unknown; perhaps it has been discarded, perhaps the tides stole it from an evening fisherman. How it got there, however, hardly seems an issue because it's just a thong. It's not an expensive runner or a chic heel; it doesn't even belong to someone's favourite pair of comfortable shoes. When its absence is noticed, if it is even noticed at all, it will probably be replaced without a second thought. It is just an insignificant piece of footwear being tossed about on the vast expanse of the ocean.

Now imagine the journey of this insignificant piece of discarded rubber. It floats over coral reefs, alive with fish of all colours, shapes and sizes. It floats past amazingly oversized whales, a bare speck in comparison. It floats alone in the deepest parts of the ocean, where even few vessels would dare to travel. It experiences the storms of the deeps; is thrown by waves that would inspire fearful awe. It is pushed by gentle breezes over calmer waters. Sharks swim silently beneath and it is unafraid. Dolphins leap playfully about it. It is carried through waters of every hue of blue and green. It allows the waters to push it forwards as, all around, mother tortoises are making their remarkable journey towards the moonlit shores to bury their treasured eggs in the sand. As the light of the rising sun sweeps over the land, the thong is found resting on sands never imprinted by the feet of humans, on a postcard-perfect beach.

In a most unspectacular manner, the thong has undertaken a most spectacular journey and nobody has noticed. It has been where most of us would pay good money to holiday. It has been within touching distance of some of the wonders of nature. It has been to places that most of us will only ever experience from the other side of a television screen. It has faced danger with the courage of a hero and yet will never be given a medal. It has travelled the oceans like a solo yachtsman and yet we will never see its photo in the paper; no ticker tape thrown as it finally reaches shore. Like a great explorer, it has gone where no man has gone before and yet it will not plant a flag and will never have its name recorded in any recount of history. This is the magic of the mundane that many of us miss.

If I were a sci-fi enthusiast I might be able to speak in greater detail about the theories of parallel universes; this idea that there might be innumerable existences for each of us, played out trans-dimensionally. Each of these different worlds play out simultaneously - same actors, different plays - with each world unaware of the existence of the others. Parallel universes aside, perhaps the sci-fi enthusiasts are onto something. Planet Earth is a web of innumerable worlds, soaked in the magic of the mundane. Each world, the story of a connection of people, unfolding in real time, the spectacular wrapped in the unspectacular. Stranger than fiction, truer than a movie, more tangible than live theatre. And the beauty of it? You can write the storyline; you can help develop the characters; you can step on the stage. The magic of the mundane is accessible to anybody and at any time you might suddenly feel it bursting upon you.

Yesterday I was delightfully visited by the magic of the mundane. Like an old thong floating through the ocean (perhaps a scarily appropriate simile), I was privileged to be a front-row spectator to one of life's simple but beautiful stories and to feel the honour of knowing that I was getting to be part of something that most will probably never experience. It was nothing spectacular - in fact, it was an English class. I had gone to visit a friend as she taught an English class to four pre-school teachers. Because she had asked for feedback and advice, I had put myself inconspicuously in the corner of the room so that I could observe without distracting her students.

In the heat of the afternoon, the fan turning faithfully above our heads created a pleasant breeze. In the next room, around 40 pre-schoolers lay in two neat rows on a woven floor mat, napping under the supervision of two of the school's helpers while their teachers became the pupils for an hour. Just outside the door, a small, black dog also enjoyed a mid-afternoon doze. In the custom of Sri Lankan hospitality, one of the ladies bought me tea, a sweet brew with tea leaves that had escaped the strainer sitting in the bottom of the cup and the recognisable flavour of powdered milk. This is the tea that, for some reason, reminds me of my nana and the teacups she used when I was a child and that I realise I now think of as 'real tea'.

So I sit under the gentle beat of the fan, drinking my 'real tea' and watching the young ladies at the table and the young lady who is teaching them. As this is a beginner class, there is a lot of Sinhala spoken, punctuated by the familiarity of English. The students seem to have learnt their early lessons well and, although they seem a little anxious about possibly making mistakes while I'm in the room, they also seem to be thoroughly enjoying their lessons. The young lady furthest from me seems to have had some previous exposure to the English language and comes across as the most confident. She is thoroughly amused when she confuses the words 'horse' and 'house'. The second student seems to be the least confident, compensating with all sorts of jokes and merriment. I wonder if she realises how difficult a task learning a new language is, and how very well she is doing. The third student enjoys the speaking and listening tasks and I am impressed by her command of expression in her voice.

The student closest to me is the quietest. She is not distracted by the merriment around her. She quickly and competently finishes her work so that the teacher may mark it while the others are still writing. I know that she is the sister of the second student and I contemplate the marked difference between the two. One is surprisingly tall for a Sri Lankan, while the other is pocket-sized. One has talked and laughed without ceasing throughout the class, while the other has not spoken an unnecessary word. One approaches her learning with humour, the other with quiet dedication. There is something comfortable in these observations; an awareness that even in different worlds there are common elements -familiar personalities, familiar relationships that connect them, familiar similarities and differences between us. And bringing them all together, the teacher, patiently instructing them and creating opportunities for them to realise their success. I am impressed by her teaching skills; she leads them confidently and has a lovely disposition that makes her students at ease.

I know I risk boring you with a rather mundane description of four students and their teacher but I'm wondering if my words allow you to see through the description to what I actually had the privilege of witnessing. I got to experience the magic of the mundane. None of the other ladies in that room would have thought there was anything spectacular about that class - not the room, not the tea, not the fan or sleeping dog or children. For them, it was all quite normal. But I got to enjoy the magic of another world, quite different to what I am used to. I got to see the story of five women unfolding before me - to bear witness to their joy and to their friendship. I had the honour of knowing that this was a story that I have been able to be a small part of and I know that this is a story that will tie into the stories of the children sleeping in the next room and the two women caring for them. These stories will continue to grow out from there, growing and spreading into an intricate network of stories. And that, my friends, is the thong theory at work - recognising the magic of the mundane and being part of the spectacular unspectacular.

GETTING AROUND

2010-05-25T13:49:00.006+05:30

Once, in our early days here in Lanka, we showed Prince around our hometown using Google maps. During our virtual tour he was to ask us, "Where are all the people?" What he noticed about our suburban and city streets was the absence of action that is characteristic of Sri Lankan streets. He was wondering if people were asked to stay inside while these photographs were taken.

The contrast between the streets of Sri Lanka and those of Australia is substantial. Right now, the Colombo/Negombo road will be alive with people about their business - a weaving, honking, zooming assortment of vehicles with a side-serving of pedestrians and generous sprinkling of cyclists - and most of the streets spreading off like a series of arteries are not all that different.

Of course, the side streets are free of buses - probably the most common form of transportation. The buses are, I suspect, a little like me - susceptible to the wear-and-tear of their environment and older in appearance than they are in actuality. Red buses are government buses and white buses are privately run. Smaller coach buses are also privately run and, for a slightly more expensive ticket, offer the luxury of air-conditioning. There seems to be no passenger limit for buses and it is not unusual to see several people hanging out the doors of an over-crowded bus, hanging tightly to each other and trusting that the one closest to the bus will not let go. It may not come as a surprise then that we know of 3 people that have had falls from buses (in fact, it may surprise you that we do not know of more). However, one did fall while talking on his mobile so I suppose an awareness of the hazards of talking on the phone while travelling may have prevented this accident - it's not just for drivers, it seems.

The other form of public transportation is three-wheeling. Three-wheelers are those little vehicles common to many Asian countries but known by a variety of names: becak, bemo, tuk-tuk, (motorised) rickshaw and the like. In Sri Lanka, these mostly come in red, green or beige, with the occasional blue ones. These are able to transport, it seems, 4 or 5 adults or extra if there are children involved. Also, shopping, goods to be sold at market, fish of any size and shape, dogs both large and small, timber, whipper snippers or anything else you would like to move. Three-wheelers mostly try to cling to the sides of the road as their engines are no match for cars, trucks and buses and neither are their chassis, but this is not a hard-and-fast rule and these little smarties on wheels are not afraid to weave in and out of the traffic as necessary. Best to try and avoid being a passenger in a three-wheeler during rain though as visiblity is very limited once the side-flaps are pulled down.

If you don't want to send your kids to school in a three-wheeler, a school van is another option. There are a plethora of vans to be found on Sri Lankan roads at any point during the day and they are commonly used for school or factory transport, as well as driving lessons. I think it may be impossible to limit the number of people you can fit inside a van, especially when you're dealing with children - they're so small. In the morning vans full of white school uniforms, red hair ribbons, sleepy faces, cheeky grins and small, waving hands can be found all over the place. Oh, and point of note, I think it is a fact that people who travel in vans are super cool ;)

The wealthier and those who enjoy a house with car access will probably own a car. Big, black, shiny 4WD seem to be the status symbol here (although other colours are also acceptable). Government ministers drive these, often with a convoy of military bodyguards ahead and behind. They don't yet know that the super-cool people travel in vans.

More common family transport, however, is the motorcycle. Motorbikes are practical if your house doesn't have car access and, at least while the children are younger, you can fit the whole family on there. For a while, apparently, the government passed a law to limit the number of people allowed on a motorbike but when an overwhelming number of indignant families asked, "How are we supposed to travel now?" the government changed its mind. Still, adults are supposed to wear a helmet and it is illegal to keep your mobile phone wedged inside your helmet so you can take calls while riding.

But we can't all be lucky enough to have a motorbike, so there is still always the trusty bicycle. You can't really fit your whole family on the bike but it is usual for there to be two or three people on the bike. Unless, of course, you're on your way to market with your goods strapped on the back. Or you can walk. Few places have footpaths, though, so it's best to stick close to the side of the road. Or, if you are lucky, you might be able to catch a ride in the back of a truck. The rule with trucks, as with three-wheelers, is the more decorated the vehicle, the better it is.

And for those travelling long distances, there is always the train. With open windows and open doors, the trains offer a better ventilated and usually less crowded alternative to bus travel. Word of advice from Darren (who has travelled to the East Coast via rail): it is best for the unseasoned traveller to take a cushion as the seating is rather firm.

So, you see, there are many ways for you to travel around Sri Lanka. You can pick your fancy - just try and avoid the ambulances.

'TIS THE SEASON

2010-05-18T11:46:00.003+05:30

Here on the West Coast of Sri Lanka we are heading into our rainy season, which runs from May to August. It has marked its arrival with heavy rain, growling skies and intimidating tropical thunderstorms. Sunday night was particularly bad. The perpetual rumblings of thunder had me dreaming that I was in a war zone. The rain was torrential and by yesterday (Monday) morning, with no sign of letting up, many roads were underwater.

Still, life goes on so we set out to take the kids to school as usual. At least with all the rain, there was a lot less traffic about. Only those who had to be out, were out. Yet there were still many to be seen braving it on foot or riding their bikes, holding an umbrella in one hand. I'm not sure how many would manage to see the morning out without being drenched by spray created from vehicles passing through the puddles that now consumed most of the road. We drove past one girls' school where the students were all removing their shoes and socks to wade through knee-high water to reach the school grounds. At one place, we navigated a piece of flooded road while two men, perhaps father and son, watched on from the threshold of their simple home, stranded by a moat of water around their house.

By careful navigation we managed to avoid the flooded streets and make it to the school. However, once there, the thoughts that had been gathering in my mind were confirmed. The school was closed for the day so we turned for home. However, Prince is on holidays so this was our first day with Cedric driving. Cedric was not confident with the roads I had navigated him down to get to the school and wanted to go home via the more direct route. This road tends to be chaotic in the mornings at the best of times but I was happy to let him make the choice.

Sure enough, a large portion of the road was flooded and vehicles from both directions were doing their best to navigate the waters. We were about to turn around and go back (which would be no mean feat as there were now vehicles hedged in behind us) when a man wading out of the waters got our attention. He was carrying an umbrella and wearing nothing but a short sarong and a motorbike helmet (well, that would get your attention!). My immediate thought was, "It must be bad. He seems to have lost his motorbike and taken off all his wet clothes." Yet, somehow I don't think that is what happened (though I can not tell you why he was wandering around the flooded streets wearing a motorbike helmet). Anyway, he seemed to have taken it upon himself to direct the traffic and he convinced Cedric that he would make it through the waters. And he was right. With the sound of water sloshing outside the doors, we took on the giant puddle and won, driving off with Cedric saying, "He was a good man. He was a very good man."

We made it home to surprise Daddy with two energetic little boys with a day off school. It also happened to be the day we had chosen to resume our English/computing classes after 6 weeks in Australia. We were barely expecting to get a class, considering the weather but we were pleasantly surprised. One of the students was coming from a town which had not had any rain yet so she was unaware that there might have been a problem but two who had to catch the bus from South of Colombo had a bus ride that extended to 6 hours through the flooded streets to come to class. The rain eased off throughout the day but returned by evening. Reports were coming in that if the rain didn't stop, Colombo would be losing power as the power stations were almost submerged.

With hopes of better weather, we sent the kids off to school today. However, the rain returned and at lunchtime we received a call asking us to collect the children as the school had to close once again. So Darren went out to face the rain and the roads. It was to be almost three hours before he was to return. Almost every road between home and the school was flooded and choked with vehicles trying to navigate the waters. To add to the situation, adjacent to the school is a factory which was sending all its workers home due to the conditions. In the meantime, the sky was throwing down everything that it had and we now had a river rushing down our driveway, through our yard and back out to our neighbour's property. My phone was able to receive calls but I could not ring out so I was worrying about what had happened to my family. Thankfully, a call from Darren early on had alerted me that this would not be an easy trip and I knew a friend of mine was also waiting on her children to get home from school. Still, it was with great relief that I finally saw the van coming down the drive, right at the point where I couldn't keep anxiety at bay much longer and I was pondering my next move.

At the moment, the rain has ceased and there are no outbursts from the sky; no thunder - either in deafening bursts or subtle rumblings - and no sky-splitting flashes of lightning. There are just the frogs, singing in froggy chorus; a deep bass complimented by a croaky alto with a somewhat syncopated rhythm. There are undoubtedly people trying to find a good place to sleep in flooded homes and hoping that the rain will hold out long enough for mattresses and other things to dry. We'll see how the weather goes tomorrow and perhaps make a call to the school office before deciding whether we'll try sending the kids to school tomorrow. But for now, I'll enjoy the peace, be thankful that my family is safe at home with the kids snug in dry beds and be grateful that all I need to deal with the leaks in my roof is a strategically placed bucket or two.

CLASS IS IN

2010-02-26T11:31:00.004+05:30

One of the things we are trying to do while we are here is to give people who can not attend English classes (either because they can't afford them or because of distance) greater opportunity to develop English skills. We want to train and assist volunteers with reasonable English skills to be able to share these skills with others, with the aim of having English programs running in impoverished or rural areas. This will open more career opportunities for the students than what is available to those without any skills in English.

After a year of developing a program for volunteers to use, we have finally been able to begin training our first group of volunteers. We have three volunteers who have been meeting on Saturdays to learn how to share English skills with others in creative ways. They are also learning teaching/classroom techniques. Although this is a small start, we are hoping that it will grow into big things. They have only a few Saturdays left of their training program and then we will assist them in getting their own classes started. The classes will be started as a result of generous donations, but a manageable (read 'small') student fee will allow these classes to continue in a self sufficient manner.

From little things, big things grow.

GIGGLES

2010-02-19T10:32:00.002+05:30

Those of you who know us well will know how much we both like a good laugh. We both tend to see the funny side of things (maybe because of the way that we look at them). So, today I thought I might share a couple of things that have caused some giggles.

:) I asked one of my students to translate the sentence, "Ohu kakul mace miladi garnava" (He is buying socks) into English. As she worked through trying to form this into an English sentence (tricky work when you consider that English and Sinhala have very different sentence structures), the word 'chicken' kept coming up. We were all a little confused and then it dawned on us all at once. 'Kakul mace' are socks and 'Kukul mas' is chicken meat. A good giggle for the class. One thing's for sure, I will not be sending her to buy me socks! I'm just relieved that it's not just me who says silly things with Sinhala.

:D English class is a great place for a giggle. The students can always be counted on to say something amusing. If your day needs brightening, just show them a picture and ask, "What is this?" My favourite terminology to date includes the 'teafork' (an implement that makes putting sugar in your tea a difficult task) and 'shoe noodles' (for the pasta fanatic who needs to tie their shoes).

:P At lunch recently, one of our students opened his lunch parcel and exclaimed happily, "I told my wife to put minnows in and she did. She is such a good wife; she listens to what I say." In walks another of our students and she says, "You've got my lunch!" So he gives it back, looks in his actual lunch parcel and says, "She didn't give me any minnows. She gave me prawns. I told her I don't like prawns." I guess it's an easy mistake when you all bring your lunch wrapped in a banana leaf.

:} We spent last weekend in Colombo, with many appointments to keep. When we arrived back home on Sunday afternoon we were all ready for a nap. How can you tell? Because instead of telling Brenton to "Get the gate", Darren instructed his son to "Eat the goat".

Have a happy day!

UPCOMING ELECTIONS

2010-01-19T10:01:00.003+05:30

We are now a week away from the upcoming presidential elections. Although we aim for political neutrality in our blog, I think it would be remiss of us to not to make note of some of the ways we have seen this event affecting life around us.

The most obvious indication that election fever is in the air is the plethora of photos of the president that you will see as you travel around Sri Lanka. The roadsides are swathed in images of the president; from the giant figures of him striding across billboards to the lines of posters of his smiling face, if you came to Sri Lanka not knowing who the president is, it would not take you long to find out.

Another way that the impending election is affecting daily life in Sri Lanka is that the cost of many goods has been reduced. Recently, when I received more than the expected amount of change for my bread I assumed they had made a mistake. I tried to do the right thing and return the extra five rupee (five cents), but they assured me that bread was now only Rs. 75. My Sinhala was insufficient to try and find out why without causing confusion, so I walked away with my extra five rupee and a clean conscience. Prince was able to tell me later, that the cost of bread has been dropped because of the election. Fuel is also cheaper as well as some other goods. (On the other hand, the cost of a roast chicken is now significantly higher as we face something of a chicken shortage. Chickens are being directed to Jaffna as part of the rebuilding process after the war (which is not to say that chickens are rebuilding Jaffna, just that the people are getting to eat them!). Although it is not pleasant watching the price of roast chickens go ever upward, I feel satisfied now that I know that it is because the chickens are going to those who need them more. I don't think this is election related, but I thought it was an interesting side note.)

The promise of an election has also brought about travel disruptions. Buses have been pulled from their usual routes to be used to transport people to rallies and public political events, meaning that travel plans have become increasingly uncertain for those relying on buses. Roads have been closed for these events or for the president (or those associated with him) as he travels. This can cause significant delays in travel as Sri Lankan roads are very busy and often only have one route between towns.

Lastly, you can tell an election is on its way by the patches of blue and green. The major political parties are identified by a colour and a picture; one is represented by the colour blue and a picture of a leaf, the other by the colour green and a picture of a swan. As you travel around Sri Lanka you will occasionally pass through areas of support for one party or the other. Blue or green ribbons (depending on the political allegiance) will festoon a group of houses and other nearby structures. Unfortunately, these allegiances can often become manifest in hostility towards supporters of the opposite party, which can lead to fighting. Yesterday we learnt that two people had died as a result of violence stemming from political differences.

So in one week's time we should know who won: the blue guy or the green guy. Here's hoping that bread still costs Rs. 75 in two weeks time.

EGG-CITING NEWS

2010-01-12T10:26:00.004+05:30

We are pleased to be able to finish off the old year and start the new with good news. Niwton the Eggman, who received one of our initial micro-credit loans a year and a half ago has made his final payment. Yay! How egg-citing!

THE NEW YEAR STARTS WITH A BANG

2010-01-07T10:11:00.002+05:30

Midnight, December 31st 2009/January 1st 2010: I was awoken from my slumber by a great noise. Was it the rumbling of a tropical thunderstorm? Could I hear waves crashing on the seashore? Were the ancient Romans invading Negombo with their chariots and multitudes of legions of soldiers? No, this was the arrival of the New Year in Sri Lanka.

Across the land, thousands and thousands of firecrackers were being let off in unison. The sound was amazing, like the sky had become one big, fizzy drink; it was like listening to a gigantic bowl of Rice Bubbles. While the war had been on, we had heard the sound of gunfire over Colombo but that had nothing on the sound of the New Year. From my bedroom windows I was able to enjoy several light shows, the best coming from the yard of a nearby neighbour.

It was quite some time before I slipped back into bed and returned to my sleep. It wasn't a restful night though, as I was woken several more times during the night by outbursts of firecrackers. The firecracker frivolity continued through the night and on throughout the following day. We were to hear later that over 2000 people went into Sri Lankan hospitals over the New Year period with cracker-related injuries. I can understand why Australia has made private firecrackers illegal.

To all our readers out there, we wish you a cracker of a New Year. May it be a year of love, hope and promise.

A LANKAN CHRISTMAS

2009-12-29T10:28:00.005+05:30

So it was my first Christmas away from home. What a big step! Of course, it gets one contemplating the differences between the new experiences and the old, so I thought I'd tell you about some of the things I learnt about Christmas in Lanka.

1) A snowman is called an 'ice bubba'. I think that's pretty cool - no pun intended.

2) A common sight on the streets are the stalls selling inflatable Santas. The inflated Santas hang in lines from the tops of the stalls, or even from nearby trees.

3) I don't think I've heard so many Christmas Carols in a single Christmas season. The radio pumped them out on the days leading up to Christmas and even the days after. It seems that the most popular one would be "Mary's Boy Child", though I think "Little Drummer Boy" also got a fair amount of airplay. "Stay A Little Longer Santa" was one I'd never heard before and I have to admit that someone singing of Santa as their love interest was something I found a little unnerving.

4) I learnt that if you write Charismas Eve in a fancy font, nobody will probably even notice the spelling mistake.

5) Decorating houses with lights isn't done for Christmas. Instead, nativity scenes are the go. Straw nativities are made with statuettes placed inside to depict the events surrounding the birth of Christ. You can register your nativity for local competition. Judges will go around visiting registered nativities and will select a winner, who collects a cash prize. In fishing areas, the straw nativities are often made in the shape of a fishing boat.

6) I was showing my English students a selection of old Christmas cards. One had a picture of Santa standing by a chimney and this aroused the curiosity of my students. They asked me if there was any truth behind the legend of Santa Claus, so I explained the history behind the legend and how the legend is told in modernity. When I told the part about Santa going down and up the chimney, there were 'ah!'s of understanding all around. Now they understood why Santa was standing on the roof. A little explanation about reindeers and flying sleighs also helped to make things a little clearer (one girl thought that Santa delivered presents with his team of donkeys).

As I told my (adult) students the story of Santa travelling around the whole world in one night and leaving presents for all the girls and boys, I found myself wondering how this tale must sound to those who have grown up without piles of presents under trees, without stocking stuffed with toys and treats. Would a child wonder why this magical man would travel the whole world with goodies galore and never come to them? Do they wonder if there's backpay? I wondered if part of the reason that so few of us spare a thought for the needs of others at Christmas is because we've grown up being told that Santa visits all children - kick back and enjoy your goodies and count on

Santa to take care of everyone else. At that point it seemed that the Santa story as it is told in modern society is actually a story of exclusion; we would like to believe that Christmas is for everybody and yet it we can choose to build it around a concept that is only for a few.

Wherever you are around this world, I hope this Christmas was a blessed time for you and your loved ones. More than that, I hope you were able to look around you and be able to give to another who might not have had a wrapped gift sitting under their tree. And, even more than that, I hope that this is something you will be able to do each and every day in the coming year.

CULTURAL SHOCK

2009-11-30T11:17:00.001+05:30

Recently I have been reading a book about a family that moved to Nepal to work as volunteers in a small hospital. The author speaks about his expectation upon arrival and what he found surprising during his time there. I found myself relating to the subject of cultural shock. I cannot remember specific examples of people telling me that I would experience it, but I do feel that there must have been some reference to it. Maybe this is what I told myself, what others may have said, or what I have picked up from reading.

My understanding of cultural shock was that it was having to deal with the spicy food, hard beds, regular cold showers with no pressure, not being able to understand the language, being stared at no matter where you go. However reading this book I have come to see that what he experienced had crept into my everyday life. Because Cultural shock goes past the physical, it is also the way we treat others.

Culture is simply the way we do things in our country. The way we drive, talk, deal with strangers and interact with friends that have come to visit. For the most part these are not really right or wrong- it is just the way we do things. But, I have found myself seeing the way I do things to be the correct way-even the best way. I have assumed an arrogance that I did not even realise was there, it had crept up on me because I thought I was right. I have experienced Culture shock in a way that I didn't even realise.

Slowly I have had to learn that my way is not the only way. The Western world may have many advantages but it doesn't mean that it is all right. I may have had the benefit of an education that many here could not, but the way I treat people needs to be free of the condescension that is part of the everyday expat community here. However, respecting their culture doesn't mean I look the other way when someone is going to put butter on a burn. Or when the neighbours burn rubber products outside their house I will ask them to stop because it is not good for their kids.

LEARNING TO DRIVE

2009-11-17T09:49:00.004+05:30

Sri Lankan driving definitely has a style all of its own. As anyone who has visited here can attest, it is enough to make an Aussie laugh, cringe, close their eyes or cry, depending on their temperament. You may ask yourself, "Where do these people learn to drive?". Allow me to enlighten you.

There are indeed driving schools, as we have in Australia. Aspiring drivers practise by driving the instructor around town (no task for the faint-hearted!), just as you might expect. However, it might be appropriate to mention that the vehicle is not a car, it's a van. The driver has maybe 6 other passengers apart from the instructor, sitting patiently in the back. They are the rest of the class. Lessons last for around 2 hours, with students taking turns at being the driver. Each student drives for around 15 to 20 minutes and spends the rest of the time as a passenger. I suppose you'd be hoping that the rest of your class are good drivers!

GIVING MY TWENTY CENTS WORTH

2009-10-13T09:34:00.004+05:30

Recently we visited a lady who sews pillowcases for a living. After some number-crunching we deducted that she can work all day for an average profit of about 20 cents a day. What's more, while I found this astounding, she did not seem to think it was any great deal. She was happy for her income. My mind began to turn to contemplate the ways that I devour her day's income in the blink of an eye. Leaving the light on unnecessarily - a day's work. Those extra biscuits I just don't need - a day's work. Even a mouthful of my dinner - a day's work.

Puts things in a bit of a different perspective really. For one, it gives a new sense of appreciation for all the good things in life. It also gives a great incentive not to be greedy or wasteful. It is also a reminder to never underestimate the power of sharing - even the little things. Interesting what can happen when you start to see your life in twenty cent pieces.

AT THE BEACH

2009-10-06T14:09:00.009+05:30

We Aussies love our beaches. I often miss the beautiful white shores and blue waters of home but that's not to say that Sri Lankan beaches don't have a charm of their own. There are crowded beaches, quiet beaches, tourist beaches, local hotspots, fishermen's beaches - something for almost anyone.

Local hotspots are quite an experience on weekends and public holidays, particularly in the hours leading up to sunset. These beaches rapidly become crowded with people enjoying the beachfront. Unlike Aussies, who tend to like a sunbake or a quiet dip, Sri Lankans really play at the beach. It's not a place for individuals, it's a place for families and groups. They will pull friends, usually fully-dressed, into the waters - the 'victim' usually protesting profusely but grinning widely. They don't usually venture too far into the water but splash and play along the shoreline. Men seem more likely to get into the water than women. Maybe this is because it is rare to see a woman with a swimsuit and, really, who likes going in the ocean fully-clothed?! People walk along the shore, collect shells or fly kites. Groups of young men may come down with a drum or a guitar to play, sing and dance. The beach is also a popular place for young couples. It is common to see the beach dotted with umbrellas, with courting sweethearts sitting cuddled beneath, shaded from the sun. And, like the Aussies, Sri Lankans are partial to a good old game of beach cricket.

Drying fish

Trying to catch the eye of the tourists.

Fishing boats.

Training maneuvers.

THE EVERYDAY THINGS

2009-09-29T17:14:00.007+05:30

Preparing a meal

The kitchen tap. (There are public water taps at various places around town. Twice a day, people who don't have water connected at their house can go to one of these taps to fill up with water to take home. The water is shut off at other times.)

Grocery shopping

Want a cuppa?

Central heating, hot water system and oven . . . all in one.

Cleaning the yard

Laundry time

At school

MIXING BUSINESS WITH PLEASURE

2009-09-08T14:46:00.007+05:30

We recently had a visit from some friends who helped us with some odd jobs we had lying around the house. The following snapshots are our way of paying tribute to them and saying thank you for all their hard work!

ELEVEN DAYS WITH FRIENDS

2009-09-01T14:51:00.032+05:30

DAY 1: A CROSS-CULTURAL EXPERIENCE

Guest lecturers at today's English class were Flicko, C-Train and Damo. Today's lesson: sharing life's experiences through photographs. Here our Sri Lankan students learnt that Australians like to jump: out of things; off things; just jumping in general; off jetties; out of planes. Yep, Aussies like to jump. Why? Well, that question from the panel of students had our guest lecturers stumped. Why? Well, why not?

DAY 2: GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS

Day 2 was a good day for visiting some of the small businesses in Colombo. Here you will see Flicko and C-Train checking out the merchandise produced by one of our small business owners.

DAY 3: WE'RE HAPPY;

FEELING GLAD

Well, Day 3 ended up being one of those days that can

give a Westerner a glimpse into Sri Lanka beyond the beaches, tuk-tuks and palm trees. The van we had hired had technical difficulties and ended up being 2 hours away at the time we had arranged to be picked up, causing us to miss our library appointments at the pre-schools. So we sent the fearless 3 off in a tuk-tuk while we waited for the van to arrive. However, the tuk-tuk driver thought he knew better and took them where they wanted to go via every touristy snapshot site he could think of, then charged them 10 times the price we had suggested. Of course, in

their excitement, they had not heard our advice, so they still felt pretty proud of themselves when they haggled the price down - until we let them know that the amount they had paid could hire them a tuk-tuk for the day! Add to that one credit card eaten by an ATM and we had figured that today was just one of those days that was going to refuse to go to plan. At least we mastered the art of changing plans at the drop of a hat long ago. Oh, and of course, ice cream goes a long way towards making things feel better.

DAY 4: BIRTHDAY ADVENTURES

Day 4 was a birthday for

the C-Train - a perfect day for white water rafting. The intrepid explorers successfully navigated the river and even had their request granted when

they asked, "Can we do that again?!" Sadly, however, the birthday boy did lose his glasses.

And how can you have a birthday without cake? That night, back

at the guesthouse, the management surprised the birthday boy with a cake and a hearty rendition of "Happy Birthday". An impromptu mini-concert in Tamil and Sinhala by the room boy (a one-time contestant on Sri Lanka's version of 'Idol') was an added bonus.

DAY 5: CONQUERING MOUNTAINS

Day 5 began at 2am. Fresh from conquering rivers, the fearless explorers decide it is a good day for conquering mountains. Sri Pada - Adam's Peak - was the goal for the day, all 4800 steps. After reading 'The Lonely Planet' we felt prepared and set off after our guide, all rugged up and with 5 friendly dogs in tow, who seemed quite excited about the

prospect of a 2am walk. Still, we hadn't even begun to ascend before the layers of clothing were coming off. We weren't to be needing those until we got to the top.

The climb to the top was a challenge, to make an understatement. In the dark, the steps seemed never-ending. The air was thin and the legs seemed to doubt themselves. And yet, at 6:15am we arrived, victorious, at the summit and were ushered into a small room - occupied by 3 young boys who were there to care for the temple - to rest before sunrise. And then we noticed the cold. We were wet from walking through cloud and it was freezing. We piled on jumpers and rugged the kids up in sleeping bags and Jay promptly fell asleep (even though the kids had actually bounded up the steps like mountain goats). Oh, and the leeches fell off.

At 6am we went outside to watch the sunrise. We had been told that from the top of Adam's Peak the sun seems to rise three times, like it is bowing to the mountain. We had also read that it casts an amazing shadow. Unfortunately, we had come at off-season and there was nothing to be seen but cloud. The climb had exhausted us and we were freezing and this concrete block in the middle of clouds seemed like such an anti-climax. I was so disappointed . . . and then the sun peeked through a break in the clouds, disappeared, and then peeked through another couple of times. And with this small change, it all seemed worth it. I turned from a tired, cold mess to a mountain-conquerer. The sense of victory became tangible. We made it! I had seen the sun from the top of a mountain!

Of course, the next logical direction was down but it was done with renewed vigour. We survived up, so down was never going to beat us. The sun continued to climb and the cloud dispersed. We were treated to the majestic scenery of the world spread out below us; giant hills and distant waterfalls. And when we turned around we could see what we could not in see in darkness - thankfully! - this mountain towering behind us, and the sense of accomplishment rose anew, aside a sense of amazement. Mountain conquerers! (Don't think I'll do that again for a while though!)

DAY 6: HAIR OF THE DOG!

By day 6 we had moved on to Haputale. Although all intents were for a quiet day, in the end the decision was that there was nothing better to follow a walk up a mountain than . . . more walking. Well, it is hill country. All the best views are found at the top!

DAY 7: A PAUSE . . .

Well, there's gotta be a day of rest sometime! Time to meet up with some locals.

DAY 8: . . . AND BACK INTO THE VAN!

Day 8 and it was time to get back into the van for the drive out of the hill country and back to Colombo - but not before goodbyes to friends.

By now the crew knew what a drive in the van in hill country meant - a long drive; a windy drive; a not-feeling-so-great drive. Up the front if you get car sick!

DAY 9: BACK TO SCHOOL

So day 9 meant a second attempt at making a library visit to the pre-schools - and today we were to prove succesful. Hooray! There were gifts for children and our crew even got to help give the lunch to the hungry children - all 100 of them!

DAY 10: SHAVE & A HAIRCUT!

So now we're back home and in the mood for something slightly less adventurous. The crew figured it would be a good day to visit the barber (and hairdresser) for a bargain that just couldn't be passed by. A few hundred rupee will get you a shave, haircut and a head massage. Well, if you're the C-train, a shave is a haircut! For our ladies it will cost a little extra for a style and some highlights. Then it was onto the hunt for cheap DVDs.

DAY 11: THE GRAND FINALE

Well, you didn't think we'd finish our adventures with haircuts and shopping, did you?! Of course not! We were off for elephant adventures. First to the elephant orphanage at Pinnawala - following the elephants down to the river. After the elephants returned to the orphanage, it was time for an elephant ride and a bath for the elephants - and our friends! Day 11 was a day for awesome elephant photos but, in the end, I still couldn't go past this one!

A GOOD DAY'S WORK

2009-07-14T22:03:00.011+05:30

Today I thought I might post some photos of people at work. Now, I don't want to present a misleading picture of life here in Sri Lanka. Every day you will find people working hard at the same kinds of jobs found all over the world: teachers, doctors, policemen, bank tellers, truck drivers, shopkeepers, journalists, accountants. Many aspects of life are the same. But today I want to show a side of the work world that people from my 'world' wouldn't normally see.

Fish seller

Coconut picker. This man has three bamboo poles roped together. A very sharp knife is tied to the end. He will use this contraption to try to knock coconuts off the tree - for sale, processing or just so they don't fall down and bonk someone on the head. Another option is scaling the tree barefoot. Ropes can then be tied from tree to tree so that the picker can access the coconuts. But he must be very careful before stepping out, just in case rats have been gnawing on the ropes since last use.

This gentleman is making lanterns to sell. These lanterns will be used to celebrate Vesak Poya, a Buddhist holiday.

This lady makes and sells doormats. She also makes paper bags. She makes these bags from the pages of exercise books discarded by students and other second-hand paper. The bags are then sold to local store-keepers, who will then sell confectionery and other nibblies in them.

MY STREET ACHEE

2009-06-23T20:50:00.005+05:30

It has been getting harder to keep up with the blogging lately. Partly, this is because we have much more of a routine now and more things to keep us busy throughout the days. The other reason is that as our eyes become accustomed to the sights around us and as the things we do become part of the norm, it becomes harder to think of what to tell you about.

So, seeing as I had decided that it had been far too long since I had posted an entry, I found myself trawling through our multitude of photos, looking for something that might spark my imagination - a photo that might give me a springboard to dive into a post about Sri Lanka or our life here. Almost despairing of finding the 'right' photo, I came across my street achee.

Achee used to sit everyday at the statue erected to St. Anthony. All through the intense heat of the day, she would sit there. When she got tired, she would lay on the hard tiles and sleep. The traffic roared around past her all day long, throwing noise and dust her way. The devout would pass her to kiss St. Anthony's feet or offer a prayer; the kind might give her some coins. When the rain came, she might cross the busy road for shelter on the other side. Thankfully, there were times when kind strangers would help her across, as this is a main road and Achee had very little sight left. I have no idea where she went to at night.

We got to pass Achee every week day as we took the kids to school. I soon found myself checking every time we passed St. Anthony's statue, to see if she was there and how she was looking. To me, she became 'my street achee' (Achee is Sinhala for grandma). Grandmas should be sitting in a comfy chair at home, with a good meal and lots of love. They should not be sitting, day after day, on the hard ground as the rest of the world rushes on their way. From time to time I would take her a loaf of bread or a lunch packet. I figured that bread was good because she could eat some and save the rest for later. I used to have to shout, "Achee . . . Achee . . . parn, parn (bread, bread)" and put the loaf in her hands. I would help her take the elastic band off the loaf - that required a bit too much co-ordination for dim eyes and elderly fingers. Once I tried to find out how old she was. She told me 108. Although it would be possible, I had my doubts. Still, whatever her age, I am amazed at her durability, living day after day that way.

I found myself worrying more and more about street Achee. It would horrify me to think that if my grandma was sitting there, that nobody would help her. I began to look into getting her into an aged care home. We found one that was free, for old people who might find themselves in similar circumstances, but unfortunately it was full. Sadly, the other few required expenses beyond my grasp. Still, it gave me a bit of an interesting insight into life in Sri Lankan nursing homes. Thank goodness for those beautiful people taking such care of those coming to the end of their lives.

Now, I really don't want to sound like I'm blowing my own trumpet here. In reality, I'm sad to say that what I did for my street Achee was barely anything at all. It may have come to your attention that throughout this post I have refered to Achee in the past tense. I can't actually tell you of her fate. One day, she simply was not there and we did not see her again. Prince and I hypothesised. Perhaps some kindly people took her and were able to get her into a home. Perhaps she took ill and was taken to a government hospital for treatment. Still, although these were comforting 'perhapses', we both knew that the odds were more likely that she had died. It has been months now, and with nobody able to tell us what became of Street Achee we can only assume that on her time on earth was finally up.

I still find myself checking St. Anthony's statue whenever we drive past. Maybe, just maybe, she'll return and there will be another chance to get her into a home, where she might die in a warm bed with a full tummy. Opportunities can be so fleeting. Yet, the slow learner that I am, I am still learning how to take them while they are there. So this blog is written in loving memory of my street Achee. May nobody die unnoticed.

22/9/09: A Happy Postscript

I have recently been told that Street Achee is still alive. Prince did some investigations and discovered that Street Achee has been moved to a home for elders. The story behind it seems to be that some of the local worshipers at St. Anthony's statue complained to their priest. They did not appreciate the smell that accompanied Street Achee (and, in particular, her use of the shrine area as a latrine). The priest got together and spoke with the village head (although 'village' is hardly an apt description of our area, we have been told that each area of Sri Lanka still falls heavily under the influence of village heads) and it was arranged for Street Achee to be moved into a home. Hooray for worshipers with delicate noses!

DECISIONS, DECISIONS

2009-05-25T11:05:00.006+05:30

When anyone plans a move, hard decisions inevitably have to be made about what to take and what to leave behind. For us, we did not want to take a great deal of things so we tried to take the bare minimum. Furniture was sold and some stored away in our gracious relatives' sheds. My parents, who had just moved from a small unit to a house, also provided invaluable assistance in taking a lot of the large items.

The lawnmower went (hooray!) as did all the gardening equipment. I love a good garden but they are a full time job and I am much happier without one. The BBQ was sent off to a new, loving home. This proved to be a wise idea. It would have gathered dust as good sausages and steaks are nowhere be found.

All the childrens' toys were kept to start up the toy library for the preschools in the slums. These are treasured and returned meticulously on each visit. We sold the childrens swing set and trampoline, much to their dismay. However, Brenton's good friend has a swing set and trampoline which they can now use on every visit.

Cutlery, glasswear, crockery and cooking utensils made the long journey. Hayley was not going to give up on cooking and, after just polishing off a muffin, I am convinced this was the right move. However, we have carried all the glasses and dinner sets in suitcases back to Australia as the house we are in came complete with these items.

Children's books came, once again as a good start up for the library, and these English books seem to be more popular than the locally bought Sinhala books. Our rather large collection of books remained with their shelves at my parents' house for their perusal.

The most difficult decision was what to do with my tools. As a carpenter, I enjoying building and fixing things and I don't like paying someone else to do it. Selling the tools was not an option and storage seemed like a waste of their purpose. Eventually I settled on leaving the large, single-purpose tools behind. Although they can make a job faster, most jobs can be done without them. Since being here I have built some shelves and fixed some doors and changed washers and general fixing, so the tools have been useful, but not indespensible. I wanted to find something that I could use them for that would help in our work here. It wasn't until a visit to one of the pre-schools that I realised what I could do.

These schools depend on donations as the parents are too poor to offer any form of payment. We help by offering games, toys, jigsaws and books for them to borrow, similar to the toy libraries that we have back in Australia. At this stage, we have been unable to bring in any large items that can be used in the schools. I noticed that they had very little play equipment. They had wanted one of those plastic cubby houses which, we were to discover, cost more than they do in Australia. From this came the idea to build some cubby houses for the library. Below are some pictures that were taken after we dropped off the first prototype. You be the judge of if I made the right decision to bring the tools.

EXPLORING

2009-05-05T21:31:00.006+05:30

Every now and then we like to travel a little further from home to explore this island we have found ourselves in. April brings the Sinhala/Tamil New Year and two weeks off school for the kids, so it is the perfect time for such a venture. We had some business to attend to in Polonnaruwa and we had often heard Prince extol the virtues of Sigiriya, so we thought this would be a great time to merge business and pleasure by visiting both places.

We decided to do the drive to Sigiriya over two days, stopping overnight in Kandy. It is not often that we can take our time like this, so it was a real pleasure to enjoy a 'short' drive and not feel like we were rushing. There was even time for the kids to have a swim in the morning and for us to take a stroll before we needed to move on. We stopped in Dambulla for lunch and then it was on to Sigiriya to trawl for a place to stay. We finally picked a place, complete with monkeys running around the grounds.

The next day we decided to visit the Sigiriya Rock Fortress. This is the magma plug of an extinct volcano which is now home to ancient ruins. Many archaeologists believe it to be the site of an old monastry, but locals will tell you that it was the home of an ancient king, who built his palace on the top and this seems to be the description that has stuck. Whatever it was, its pretty amazing to see.

First you will cross the moat and then walk through the remains of the water gardens. You can see the rock in the distance and you will wonder how on earth you are ever going to make it to the top. As you start up the stairs you will be met by many guides wanting to adopt you for the ascent, obviously looking for rupees. We prefer to explore on our own. As you continue up the stairs you will cautiously heed the signs not to make to much noise for the risk of upsetting hornets. The hornet nests are massive. By the time you get to the top of the stone staircase you will know that its a hot day and, undoubtedly, you will have worked up a fair sweat. And now you are at the foot of the rock.

Here you can climb up a large spiral staircase attached to the side of the rock (don't look down!) to view the ancient rock art. Most of these ancient drawings have been destroyed but a few still remain, protected from the harsh sun by a canvas that has been erected. To view the drawings you stand on a plank scaffolding, a bit like a window-washer for a multi-storey building. Definitely not for the faint-hearted, but well worth it. Upon descent you will pass the graffiti wall where, over centuries, people have written praise for the beauty of the ladies drawn on the rock wall. This wall is now protected from the public, so no new graffiti allowed.

You will now go around the rock to the point where you will begin your ascent to the top. On the way you will pass a gigantic boulder that rests on a series of smaller rocks, set up like dominoes. This is an ancient defence mechanism, set up but clearly never used. Should invaders have come, the dominoes would have been activated to set the boulder sliding down the hill, crushing those in it's path. Around from here you will find yourself at the Lion's Staircase. In ancient days, a huge statue of a lion stood over the foot of the staircase. One would begin their ascent by passing through the open mouth of the lion. All that remains these days are the large lion's paws.
The stone staircase ends and one must now climb a set of metal steps attached to the side of the rock. Although the more timid might find that this climb leaves their heart in their throat, they will find it preferable to the way people used to have to get to the top - scaling the side of the rock using notches carved into the rock face. At the top, climbers are able to check out the ancient remains - a palace or a monastry, depending on which story you follow - and are treated to a pretty spectacular view. Up here you will also find the ladies' pool and a throne where the king could appreciate the vista unfurled before him (or the ladies bathing, depending on which way he was looking). Upon descent you will pass the council chambers. This is a large piece of boulder that had broken away from the main rock and is believed to have been used as a meeting place for court matters.

The next day we decided to take the kids for an elephant ride. There is a town, not far from where we are staying, where several houses on the main road have signs advertising elephant rides. We went with a guy who was a friend of a friend of a friend. I was relieved that this elephant ride was in a basket. This was my third elephant ride, but my last one was bareback. Riding an elephant bareback gives you a true perspective of how large these animals really are and, for me, it's quite scary when you realise how far away the ground is. Our elephant was named Rajah and he took us along the main road and then down some back streets to the open plains. As Rajah took us down into the river, the rain began to fall. It was such a fantastic experience to be riding this creature through the river and then up through fields of mango trees, with the cool rain falling on us to break through the hot morning. By the time we returned to the main road, the rain had stopped and the hot sun made short work of drying us out. As Rajah lumbered along the road, passing vehicles slowed and we waved cheerily at the staring onlookers. At the end of our journey we were able to reward Rajah for his efforts with some fruit. Later that afternoon we decided to go for a walk to explore the area around our hotel. Thankfully we did not come across any elephants then, as wild elephants are considered to be quite dangerous.

From Sigiriya, we moved on to Polonnaruwa. Polonnaruwa is also home to many ancient ruins but this was not to be on our agenda this visit. We chose a hotel situated on the large tank (or dam). This tank was first constructed under the direction of an ancient king, although it was more like a series of tanks. Over time, the tanks were combined to create one massive tank, which is a place where locals can fish, wash, do laundry and play. Our purpose in Polonnaruwa was business but after we met those obligations, we were still able to go for a drive looking for wild elephants. Much to our delight, we were lucky enough to see and photograph a wild elephant before it disappeared again into the bushes. No flash photography though, that aggravates them.

Finally it was time to head back to Negombo. This time we decided to do the entire journey at once, so this was a full day's drive. By the end of the day we were back; sleepy, with suitcases over the floor, a full memory card in the camera and heads full of memories.

BEING A LOCAL

2009-04-22T11:19:00.003+05:30

Having now been in Sri Lanka for about 15 months, we consider ourselves locals to some degree. Without giving away too many trade secrets, having the resident stamp in your passport ensures that we get some perks of being local without having to change our skin colour. Mostly these are financial gains. For example, hotels generally have two different prices: one for foriegners (what we look like) and one for locals (what we can now say we are). This can make a difference of up to 50% in the price. This price differentiation also extends to entry into nature parks, musuems and zoos. Usually a portion or all of this goes to the tour operator or the local driver that has taken you there.

As "locals" it is nice to go out and be recognised rather than being noticed. Being stared at is quite normal for us when we go out and it is something I have learnt to live with. But recognition is so much better and makes us feel like we are a part of Negombo. We are known around our house and also down on the main road by the beach. This means we are no longer asked if we want to go to the fish markets, Negombo city or have a massage every time we pass a three-wheeler. In fact one Croatian guy we know has started printing t-shirts with that exact slogan. We have even got to know a few of the local beggars so that now they are happy to sit back and wait to see if we have any loose change for them, as we give more often than not. We know and are content in the fact that we will never be free from shouting "Hello" and "Goodbye"halfadozen times to the children living on our street that we pass each day.

However, there are often a few locals that want to offer more than a stare and a quick hello. One such fellow is the security guard where we do our shopping. His job is to ensure no one takes bags into the shop and help the cars reverse safely in the car park, which Prince always protests about as if it is an affront to his driving skills. If he spots us he always comes over and says hello at least four times and a hearty double-handed handshake. He will come over and open doors for us, but as his English is poor he ends up just hovering around, smiling, until we leave. His English may be bad but our Sinhala is not much better (though if I need to know where the fat, black cat was sleeping, he would be the first person I would ask.)

Still, there are still those occasions where we are happy to settle for trips to the pool just to blend in with all the other "Suddas".

INTRODUCING THEODORE

2009-03-31T13:51:00.005+05:30

We are beginning to wonder if our house is turning into a halfway house for local animals. The latest little fellow to find his way into our home is a baby chipmunk. Prince brought him along one morning. He had fallen out of a tree (the chipmunk, not Prince!) and, being a baby, still lacked the climbing ability to get himself back home. After some not-so-subtle hints from Prince, we agreed to take him in.

Considering that Lovely the Egret only managed to survive 10 days with us and our turtles escaped, Darren has been hesitant to give the chipmunk a name. I call him Theodore, but I also like what the Sri Lankans call chipmunks - Tinting (from the sound they make). Whatever we call him, there is no denying that he is unbelievably cute! He is incredibly affectionate. He sleeps a lot but when he is awake he loves human company. He loves to crawl all over you and look for places to burrow and snuggle. Now that he's getting more confident and more capable he loves to go exploring, especially if he can climb or burrow. He likes to bask on the laptop (it generates a fair amount of heat) but he gets jealous of my mouse and tries to attack the scroll wheel on it.

So, as you can probably tell, even in the space of a couple of days we have all become particularly fond of Theodore/Tinting/technically unnamed Chipmunk. We know that eventually he'll probably find himself a proper home in the wild, so we keep reminding ourselves, but until then I guess the McQuades Halfway Home for Sri Lankan Wildlife remains in operation.

OUR NEW CLASS

2009-03-24T09:10:00.004+05:30

We have recently begun work with a new group of students. We are excited about this because this is our first group that we will work with on a regular basis. It is also our first adult class. This class has four students,who are also completing a college course. They spend one day a week with us learning English and computing. This will not only help them in their current course but will help them be accepted into higher level college courses in the future. The students come from various places in Sri Lanka but, for their course, are based in a town a few hours away from us. They travel by bus to get to and from our class, which means a long day and lots of travelling, but they are so keen to learn. We are hoping to have a second class starting a few months from now.

HEADING EAST: PART 2

2009-03-17T17:29:00.004+05:30

After visiting the pre-schools we were invited to visit the homes of some of the locals. The people we visited were neither Sinhala nor Tamil, but Veddah. The Veddah people are the aboriginal inhabitants of Sri Lanka. Where the Sinhalese people and the Tamil people both have their origins in India, the Veddah have always lived in Sri Lanka. Veddah have a close relationship with the land and, even today, many still practise traditional ways of hunting and cultivation. Unfortunately, much of the jungle area which would be their traditional land has been cleared. Also, intermarriage has meant that Veddah culture is at risk of being lost. Thankfully, it seems that recognition of the benefits of the traditional Veddah land practices is encouraging a comeback for Veddah culture.

It was a particular honour to be able to visit the local Veddah tribal chief. The chief was blind, but he told us the story of when, years back when his eyesight was better, he was taken all the way over to the West coast so he could have an operation to have his cataracts removes. The doctor explained the operation to him and he thought that the doctor was saying that he would have his eyeballs removed. Naturally, the chief was terrified and he ran away back to his home on the other side of the island. Later, when the opportunity arose again and he better understood the operation, it was too late.

On our way home from visiting the Veddahs we noticed a curious sight. As we drove we passed many men on bicycles, travelling in the opposite direction, carrying rifles across their laps. Our host was able to explain. It seemed that, at some stage in the past, the government had supplied the locals with guns, just in case they found themselves caught in the middle of the ongoing conflict. On regular occasions, these locals need to present themselves and the guns at the local police station for inspection. It turned out that today just happened to be gun-checking day.

HEADING EAST: PART 1

2009-03-17T16:44:00.005+05:30

Recently we made a weekend trip to the Eastern side of the island. The Eastern Province has long been a front in the conflict in Sri Lanka, which has had it's toll on the people, socially and economically. However, of late it has been becoming increasingly stable, so it was deemed safe enough for us to go and visit. This was quite a trip though - requiring several hours driving and the most stringent security checks we've experienced so far.

Our visit was a research trip. We were to visit three pre-schools out there - to meet their staff and children, to have a look at their resources and to get a feel for their needs. The first pre-school we visited was held in a simple room attached to a house. It can have up to 15 children but today it had 5. The communities we visited were in rural areas and we were told that when the parents needed to be in the fields they often had to take the children with them for the day, so the children did not go to school. A couple of the children here found our camera a bit too scary!

The second pre-school we visited was held in a small, mud hut. This school had no budget to work with so all they had to use with the children were a few sheets of paper, a few pairs of scissors and some glue. Still, the classroom walls, adorned with colourful pictures, were testament to their ability to make do with very little.

The third pre-school was the biggest and best equipped of the three. This pre-school educates about forty 4 and 5 year olds. We were lucky enough to arrive in time to witness the rice-and-onions lunch meal that the school provides before the children are sent home.

When we arrived there were many parents waiting outside the school building for their children to be dismissed. I was intrigued to notice that there were also several older children. I was told that this village lies in the corner of it's region so there is no nearby school for the older children. Most can not afford the daily bus fare nor can they cope with walking home for hours in the heat of the day without having had lunch, so they do not go to school. They go to the fields with their parents or they stay home to take care of the younger children while the parents work. I took some photos and chatted with these lovely children, to learn that some of them did not even know how old they are. These children really are growing up a whole world away from so many of the rest of us.

A LOVELY MEMORY

2009-03-17T15:05:00.003+05:30

For 10 days we were parents to an injured egret. Brenton found it wandering around our backyard one day. It's wing was so badly injured that it just dangled badly from it's body, only just still attached. We didn't know what to do with it so we just took it in and figured we would just see what happened. At night we put him in a box so that he didn't become prey for one of the many neighbourhood cats. We had to put a stick in the box for him to perch on though, otherwise he wouldn't sleep. During the day we put him outside to get some fresh air and to stretch his legs. Still, he actually seemed to prefer our company. If he got bored or hungry he'd come and wander through the house to see what was going on. He particularly seemed to like Prince, though I don't think Prince was so keen on him, and would stand at a safe distance watching him while he cleaned the van or covered books. Other times he would just wander around the house and try and make sense of this strange new world.

He was a fish-eating bird, so we went to the pet shop and bought a small tank of guppies. We would put them in my laundry tub and he would go fishing. We also got him a little frog and he scored a few of the prawns that I was shelling for dinner once. Apart from that, we went to the fish market and bought some smelly, little fish that we could freeze and break off a few whenever he needed feeding. He was quite willing to come and take the fish out of our hands.

We really hadn't been that sure he would make it through the first night, but after a few days we figured it was safe enough to give him a name. Because Brenton had found the egret, we gave him the privelege of picking a name. Brenton decided that 'Lovely' suited him quite nicely, so Lovely the egret he became. But unfortunately, despite his inquisitive behaviour and healthy appetite, his injuries must have still been quite severe because 10 days after he first came into our yard, he died. Brenton was brokenhearted. Still, our constant travelling really made it difficult to take such continued care of him. I'm just glad he died with a full belly.

BORDERS

2009-02-19T09:34:00.003+05:30

Not far from our place there is a canal. It is part of a canal system that was constructed by the Dutch during their 'stay', stretching for over 120km. The canal system was originally used to transport goods from one place to another, between Puttalam and Colombo. However, disuse has seen it come to be overgrown with weeds to the point that it looks as though you could walk right over the top of it (I wouldn't recommend trying).

Of late, efforts have been made to clear the weeds from the canal. An excavator has been parked on the canal bank. Although I've yet to see it in action, it clearly has been used at some stage because as we pass over the bridge we can see the results of its work. We were driving over the bridge recently and it came to our attention that the weeds had been cleared from one side of the bridge, while the other side was just as choked as ever. It looks as though water flows under the bridge and emerges out the other side as greenery. We pondered this phenomenon for some minutes, trying to figure out why they would worry about one side of the bridge and not the other. Finally, Prince came up with a suggestion that seemed quite feasible. One side of the bridge, he suggested, probably falls under the responsibility of the Negombo municipality while the other is the responsibility of the Kochchikade municipality. We wondered at the logic of this, assuming that the Kochchikade weeds will eventually spread and reclaim the Negombo water.

It was, of course, just a theory. It is just as possible that it was decided that, for some reason, this bridge was just a good place to start and that they will return and do the other side later. Those of us who like to see the glass as half-full can undoubtedly give the municipalities the benefit of the doubt. Still, it does get me pondering this strange notion of 'borders' that we humans have.

Throughout history we have managed to carve this planet into patches and allocate patches to people (or, perhaps, people to patches). We have claimed patches as our own, tried to drive people from their patches and allocate them to different ones. We have fought, and even killed, over patches. We have covete what other people find on their patch. We have made people pay, and continue paying, for the right to have a patch. We clear our patches, build on them, landscape them and develop them. And, of course, we compare them. Oh, the prestige when my patch is better than your patch. And heaven help those who don't have a patch. All of this stemming from these borders that you will see marked so clearly on your map but may not even notice as you cross a bridge.

But when we look at it we might have to wonder if borders are really mind-games that we play with ourselves. Oh, for sure, they can be extremely beneficial when it comes to good administration and good government and we've probably all heard the saying, "Good fences make good neighbours". I definitely believe that order is a good thing. Still, there are times when you might have to question if borders belong on a list with Santa Claus and the tooth fairy, something that shapes human behaviour without actually existing (it's always dangerous saying things like that about Santa - hope I haven't shattered anyone!). Our borders do not keep smoke from fires in Indonesia from polluting the air in Malaysia. We are all quite aware that in the case of a nuclear mishap - attack or accident - our borders will not protect us. Rubbish thrown in the ocean will not stop at maritime borders and we are gradually learning that, even if we don't have a heart, we still need to care about the economic well-being of people in other 'patches' because if we don't we may well find ourselves suffering economically as well. And, of course, water weeds are not a respecter of municipal boundaries.

At some point, it must be worth considering whether we ever really own the patch we find ourselves inhabiting or should we merely consider ourselves to be caretakers. I'll be interested to see what happens in the canal.

BUYING BREAD

2009-02-16T15:33:00.004+05:30

Today I would like to introduce you to some friends of mine. To me, they go by the communal title of 'The Bread Ladies' - though to be fair, as you can see, they are not all ladies. The ladies give me the bread and the gentleman works the cash register, so perhaps 'The Bread Ladies' is still an apt title if I also add 'and Tillman' to the introduction.

Anyway, we need to buy our bread fresh each day and this is the shop that we visit to do this errand. We stop here each morning on the way home from dropping the kids at school. This means, because we take turns at taking the kids to school, that every second day I get to see the Bread Team. This is truly the highlight of my morning routine. The Bread Team are so friendly and always greet me with huge smiles. They know exactly what I'm after - a large loaf of bread - but they love to help me practise my Sinhala. The bread will be on the counter as soon as I enter the store (and I've caught them out at checking the loaves to try and find me the best one) but they will still wait for me to ask for it in Sinhala (Mata loku parn denda) before I'm allowed to have it. I will ask them all "Kohomada?" (How are you?) and they will respond in various ways that I can only assume mean "Yeah, I'm well". Then they will ask how I am and I will respond with the easiest response in my repertoire (Hondai). By then I will have paid for the bread and will give a "Gihin enang" (Goodbye, which I am told literally translates to 'I will go and I will come") and then I am on my way, buoyed by their smiles and encouragement and the thought that I have successfully used Sinhala in public.

Anyway, I enjoy my visits with the Bread Team so much that I wanted to get a photo of them to share with you all. So, one morning, in I go with my camera to get a shot of the team. It was funny that they were so obliging considering that if I went down to Baker's Delight and asked if I could take a photo of them, they would probably just get totally weirded out. However, I will share that this photo does come to you with a price. In return, the team asked me if they could each have a photo of me with the family. I asked why they wanted a photo of me because I was worried they might put it up in the shop. Prince said they were going to get it enlarged and put it on the shop wall. After I had been sufficiently horrified (can you imagine going to get your bread each day with your photo on the wall like the patron saint of bread?!) Prince let me know he was just joking - they just wanted the photo to take home. I figured it was a fair swap.

THE ANTS CAME MARCHING TWO BY TWO

2009-02-12T12:27:00.004+05:30

One of the small but significant things about living here in Sri Lanka is sharing our house with the ants. I don't think we ever had ants in our house in Australia and if we did, it was never in the numbers that we have here. There are ants in both of my kitchens; ants in the loungeroom; ants coming up the drain in the downstairs bathroom and, of late, ants walking all over my desk. I don't know what has suddenly attracted them to my desk and I would chase them away if it didn't seem so futile. When we first moved in we tried to combat the ants with ant powder and spray but we've come to see that it is a losing battle. Now we live peaceably with them, keeping as much food as we can in the fridge and making sure that you clean up really quickly after preparing any food. Oh, and of course there's the golden rule: always make sure you look at anything before you put it in your mouth.

Still, you learn a few things about ants. You learn that the only places they don't get into are the fridge and the oven (well, for now anyway!). You learn that they can move really quickly and they are determined. At the same time, you learn that they aren't that clever. They can work together to move a gigantic (well, in comparison anyway) crumb across the kitchen bench and then will work for hours, to get it through the flywire even though it's too big. And yet, they can still figure out how to work their way along the thread of a screw-lid container. You might think that things like sugar and honey would be their favourite but, surprisingly, this is not so. In fact, the honey is one of the few things that is safe in the cupboard - they have not tried for it at all. They would much rather peanut butter. However, this can not compare with their all-time favourite: cheese. Get some cheese out of the fridge and every ant everywhere will be running to your kitchen within seconds. Oh well, at least they're not charging me rent yet.

THE INCIDENTALS

2009-02-10T20:40:00.003+05:30

We have just returned from two days in Colombo. Although it wasn't a particularly eventful trip, I feel the urge to tell you about the incidental things that happened over those couple of days. These little things aren't particularly spectacular - in fact, some of them are downright mundane - but they give a little glimpse into our world.

Sunday morning started as the sun was rising because we had a couple of hours drive ahead of us. Before we were to leave I was to find myself at the kitchen sink, scrubbing my thongs (footwear, people, I am Australian - and therefore refuse to call them flip-flops, slippers or any other silly name). I have a blue pair which I wore to the fish market recently. It was not my usual fish market so I was not expecting to have to walk across such a wet floor. I wouldn't normally consider myself to be a princess but I did have to draw the line at washing my thongs, which I figured were covered in something that must have been in contact with fish guts, before I would wear them again. My other pair is a pretty pink pair of Kustoms thongs that used to be my mum's. She commented that they probably weren't a sensible colour for a place like Sri Lanka but I thought I could just keep them to be my 'good thongs' - you know, for those times when I have to dress up. Anyway, I had to go into town the other day and, because I hadn't got around to washing the blue fish-water thongs yet I wore the pretty pink ones. I must admit I was feeling quite proud of actually owning a pair of 'brand-name' thongs in such an attractive colour and really enjoying how comfortable the writing felt on my feet - so much more comfortable than the cheap thongs that I would buy - and I really did feel pretty cool. Of course, you know how pride comes before a fall, and the next thing I know one of my thongs had disappeared from my foot. You see, some men were re-tarring the road and the not-quite-dry-yet tar had stuck my shoe to the road and I had walked on without it. After that first instance of confusion, I had to go back and peel my shoe off the road and put it back on my now-sticky foot. The black dots have only just washed off my foot. Anyways, so that is why I would find myself at the kitchen sink on Sunday morning (I don't have a laundry sink, but I do have two kitchens), scrubbing furiously at my thongs and thinking that perhaps I should have done this before I put on my gleaming white new t-shirt.

Sunday morning is a good time to drive to Colombo because the traffic is a lot quieter. We made it in reasonable time and I headed off to a class that I needed to run for a group of children. There were about 30 children in the group, ranging in age from about 4 to 14. We get the honour of being involved with several out-of-school classes and most of the groups tend to be made up the same way. I find that my Sinhala is getting better because I can occasionally throw in sentences without needing them translated. This always goes down a treat, especially if I'm telling a story and I take them - and my translator - by surprise by throwing in some unexpected Sinhala. It's usually bound to get some laughs! Actually, I find teaching English is a great way for me to improve my Sinhala at the same time.

After the class finished it was time for lunch, which we decided to have at a nearby hotel. Here we met a lovely gentleman who works for the hotel and who is also vice-president of the Origami Club of Sri Lanka. He made some origami birds for the boys and we got to talking. He showed us a sample from his repertoire of origami creations, the most notable being the set of 9 nesting origami boxes, the smallest of which held an origami crane about the size of a grain of rice, and a naughty frog that seemed to be alive and had quite a mind of its own. He also showed us one of his magic tricks but, although he tried to teach us to do it ourselves, we proved to be rather dense students and could not master it at all. It was quite difficult to believe this spritely, animated man could be all of the 79 years he told us that he was.

After lunch we scouted the area for a place where we could spend the night and finally settled on something adequate. This was no mean task, as the next day was poya - a Buddhist public holiday in honour of the full moon - and the long weekend meant that most places were full. The place where we stayed was adjacent to the beach, which also means that it was adjacent to the train track but so are most of the hotels in that area anyway. Besides, you find that once you know that trains will be passing from time to time you find that the noise doesn't really bother you all that much. Plus, to our delight, we were to find that our room had proper hot water - not just the standard luke-warm.

After a rest we headed down to the beach for some dinner. Being poya, and a long weekend poya at that, the beach was absolutely packed. It is not that unusual to see busy beaches in the evening, particularly at poya, but this was definitely the most crowded beach I've ever seen. We made our way to the same restaurant that we always visit for dinner when we find ourselves in this area. We watched the sun go down while we waited for our meal - it was a blazing red that night, like the Japanese flag, and didn't seem to set so much as suddenly disappear as though it had fallen through a hole in the sky - and let the children run on the sand and visit the park. That night we had the added surprise of finding that another diner at a nearby table was also an Australian. It is incredibly rare for us to come across Australians in Sri Lanka so, after some precursory conversation, we invited her to come and join us at our table. I find that it is incredibly enjoyable meeting other foreigners here in Sri Lanka and finding out about what has brought them to this part of the world. There are always so many different stories to hear.

The next morning we were off to meet with a group of teachers. These teachers are involved with schools that are run for children from tsunami camps and other poverty-stricken children. We have a collection of toys, books, games and puzzles that we lend out to teachers such as these so that they can extend their curriculum and offer lessons and activities that are fun, colourful and stimulating. We were there to collect the items that were previously borrowed and to allow them to choose some items for the upcoming few months. My kids also had fun demonstrating a selection of the toys.

After this, our work in Colombo was done. However, on the way home we did make sure that we stopped off at the shopping centre. There are some things that it is just a little difficult to find in our local stores so when we're in Colombo we're bound to make a trip to one or two of the special places where we know these little treasures might be found. Some of these things are always hard to find and Colombo is our chance to stock up for a while. Cheese is one of those items. Other items can usually be found locally but occasionally they go missing for a period of time (once imported goods are sold out you must wait until more come in before they are re-stocked). Tomato soup is one of those items; it went missing just before Christmas and is yet to return to the shelves of my local store. So, it was as proud owners of cheese and tomato soup we were to finally to return back home.

See, I told you that it wasn't anything spectacular, but now you know why my pink thongs have tar-sealed soles for extra-grip and why you can no longer find tomato soup at my special Colombo shopping centre.

LITTLE KNOWN FACTS

2009-02-09T01:23:00.002+05:30

Having spent one year in Sri Lanka we have discovered there are some stories that we hear from locals that are not found in your traditional guidebook. Although some are humorous, I am not intending for this to be an opportunity to poke fun at those that said them. It is just interesting to have an insight into some of the common thoughts found here. Some of these little gems were quite unknown to our Australian minds which is why, in a lot of cases, we are given incredulous looks when we show our ignorance in these areas.

Firstly, balm fixes everything. It doesn't matter if you have sprained your ankle or been bitten by a dog, Sri Lankan balm will ensure a quick recovery. Well, fingers crossed!!

When offering water to visitors it is worth knowing that cold water, although considered more refreshing in many countries, is thought to give you a cold and make you sick here. A bit like those mums you may know of who tell you going out without your jumper can give you a cold, I suppose. Along the same lines is the refusal to eat yogurt on a cold day as it will make you sick. No probs - more yogurt for me!

When you get a burn, butter is still considered the best thing to apply. In vain we protest with horrified expressions that it is the worst thing you could do. We are not believed. However, in a lot of cases the locals use coconut milk, which is probably a better option in the absence of ice. Of course, you could always try some balm!!

There is also the belief that somehow playing in the dirt can cause you to get a bad cough. The conversation went something like this "We took him to the hospital because he has a bad cough because he keeps playing in the dirt".

I used to get cracked heels in Australia but since being here I haven't had too much of an issue with it, which I am quite happy about. Well, I finally found a theory as to why we have these. Apparently, cracks in your feet let out the heat so you don't get too hot. Ironically enough, this is probably the best place to use that balm!!

Finally, although these beliefs may be unfounded, at least they will probably not cause any long term health problems. However, I am concerned about the belief that anything can be burnt and that it is the best way to dispose of rubbish. Just because plastic and rubber can be burned doesn't mean they should be burned. Maybe an "Its OK to drink cold water but it isn't OK to burn your tyres!!" campaign wouldn't go astray.

THE UNCOMFORTABLE THINGS

2009-02-05T15:47:00.003+05:30

Recently I have been reading about issues associated with war and I came across the following excerpt:

"In one analysis the comparative cost of civilian (unprotected) casualties is $2 000 per square kilometre with conventional weapons, $800 with nuclear weapons, $600 with nerve gas weapons and $1 with biological weapons."

It got me thinking about how we use our money.

With $2000 I could blow hundreds of people to smithereens; I could buy a gold necklace with diamond pendant; or I could take an old lady off the street and put her in a nursing home where she will have shelter, food and healthcare for almost a year.

With $800 I could incinerate hundreds of people with searing heat, or doom them to suffer from the effects of nuclear radiation; I could hire a yacht overnight; or I could establish a small school for 20 pre-schoolers, pay their teachers for a month and provide them all with one meal a day for a whole month.

With $600 I could destroy the nervous systems of hundreds of people; I could perhaps stay a few nights at a 5-star hotel or could buy 5kg of rice for around 130 people.

With merely $1 I could destroy hundreds of people by purposely inflicting them to horrible, deadly diseases; I could buy myself a chocolate bar (if I'm lucky); or I could provide a day's wage for one of the just under 1 billion people across the world who is living on around $1 a day.

So, because I was pondering these things, I looked for a few more statistics. Now, please forgive me that I have not quoted my references as I am simply pondering and not trying to write an essay. I am hoping that my sources will not begrudge me sharing their statistics with you and I am hoping they have been as accurate as they could be. I'm not too sure how recent these figures are but I'm sure the picture they try to paint is still valid. With that in mind, this is what I found.

Almost half the world lives on less than $2.50 a day. At least 80% of the world lives on less than $10 a day.

Around 30 000 children die each day due to poverty. It is held that every second child lives in poverty.

Less than 1% of what the world spent every year on weapons was needed to put every child into school by the year 2000 and yet it didn't happen.

I came across a table of statistics claiming that the world spent $780 billion on military costs and $400 billion on narcotic drugs. Europeans spent $105 billion on alcoholic drinks and $50 billion on cigarettes. In comparison, consider the following additional costs needed to provide access to basic services. $13 billion was quoted as being necessary to provide basic health and nutrition in developing countries. $12 billion could provide reproductive health for all women. $9 billion could provide water and sanitation for all and $6 billion could be used to provide basic education for all.

Maybe we could all use a little change.

PUTTALAM

2009-02-02T12:19:00.003+05:30

Recently we visited Puttalam for the weekend. Puttalam is a small town, a couple of hours North of us (depending on what day you travel and what the traffic is like). What I find happens whenever I travel away from home in Sri Lanka is that I find myself thinking, "I like this place. I could really enjoy living here." Of course there have been the occasional exceptions but Puttalam was not one of them and I once again found myself thinking, "Hmmm, I could really enjoy living here."

Our purpose in Puttalam was to meet with some applicants for loans to begin businesses. We have (as regular readers of our blog may recall) visited Puttalam previously but this trip was a little more relaxed and we had more time to enjoy being there. Our first item of business was to find somewhere to spend the night and we were thrilled to find a lovely bungalow that we could hire for the night. After lunch we had time for a drive to the beach. We had considered a swim but beach accesses were via fisherfolks huts and we were a little shy of the attention we might attract. Instead, we headed back to the bungalow for a nap.

We had arranged to meet the loan applicants later in the afternoon, so that they would have time to come in from their various locations. We met with 4 people; one wanting to buy a large fishing net, one wanting to start a business selling vegetables and 2 others, each wanting a loan to help them in a business selling everday goods. We spent the afternoon asking them questions about their businesses and plans, as well as their family situations. It was quite saddening to learn from one woman that she was currently having to work in a factory, packing salt, to earn a little over $2 a day. At this stage we will be able to offer loans for two of these people, with the possibility of returning later on in the year with a loan for the others.

We returned to the bungalow for the evening. The caretaker there had a young dog that the boys enjoyed playing with. The next day we were able to see a little more of Puttalam and were able to meet a few more of the locals. Then it was time to return home. Although it was a fleeting visit, we look forward to more trips there in the future.

BRENTON'S 8th

2009-01-30T17:18:00.005+05:30

We only had a week back in Sri Lanka before Brenton's birthday was upon us. Eight years old already - amazing! We allowed him to decide what he would like to do for his birthday and he chose to have a party at McDonalds after school.

We had to re-wrap his presents before he got home as they had been unwrapped at the airport in Malaysia before we boarded. Those guys scrutinised everything and your efforts were in vain, Mum & Miwa, because they didn't just neatly open the packaging but tore it open like it was their present. Anyway, when the kids got home from school there was just enough time for him to tear them open again (he made less mess than the airport staff!) and then we were off to pick up a school friend and begin the almost-hour-long drive to McDonalds.

It was a pretty routine McDonalds party. The kids played balloons or played in the play area. They played musical chairs, 'pick-up-the-straws' (straws are thrown around the room and the kid who picks up the most wins) and treasure hunt (a sticker is hidden in the room and the kid who finds it is the winner). And, of course, there was food, cake, presents and party bags. Pretty much what you might expect for a McDonalds party anywhere, except this one came complete with two young children standing outside the window, watching proceedings with great curiousity. Of course we couldn't resist but to give them some cake and a lolly bag too.

CATCHING UP

2009-01-26T14:42:00.004+05:30

So, those in the know will be aware that we were back in Australia for the month of December. We were there for so many reasons, including catching up with family and friends (as well as healthcare and taxes!). So, before we move on to the year ahead, I would love to take a moment to catch you up on the month that was.

One of the great joys of being home in December was being able to spend Christmas with our loved ones.

Our trip reunited us with family.

The kids got to spend time with their friends . . .

. . . and we got to spend time with ours too.

Our stopover in Malaysia on the way back to Sri Lanka became a holiday to celebrate our 12th wedding anniversary. We spent four days in Kuala Lumpur. While there we spent a day visiting the zoo.

We explored Chinatown, enjoying the cuisine and grappling with chopsticks.

This is the place where we enjoyed a 'fish spa'. You sit on the edge, place your feet in the tank and hundreds of fish come and nibble the dead skin off your feet and in between your toes (weird fish!). It's a peculiar sensation. The boys couldn't sit still long enough so they had a hand spa instead, although they seemed to enjoy it more like a petting zoo.

We visited Lake Titiwangsa Gardens which, although it is no longer home to the giant 'Eye on Malaysia' ferris wheel, is home to an extensive children's playground and exercise park.

We had dinner at the revolving restaurant in the KL Tower one night. Although it is not the tallest building in KL, it is the highest view of the city that is open to the general public. Without fear, Jaymon was, in an instant, laying on the glass to try and gain a full appreciation of the city below him!

We also spent a day at Sunway Lagoon. We hope that you will not be disappointed that we can't share any pictures with you but our main objective there was fun and not photos. The place was awesome and we had heaps of fun on the rides and in the water park.

Kuala Lumpur was a fantastic place to visit - quite a change from both Sri Lanka and Australia. We mastered the public transport with pride, using it to ferry ourselves to and from the many sights. The shopping opportunities were astounding. How much shopping could possibly be done in one city?!! From malls that would easily be 20 storeys high to malls dedicated entirely to technology; from malls with their own theme parks to malls with their own ice-skating rink (it was like dinner and a show!) and bowling alley. There was so much to see and do and we clearly only scratched the surface - and that was only Kuala Lumpur! Here's hoping we get back some day.

WE ARE BACK

2009-01-15T16:58:00.002+05:30

This week marks the one year mark of our stay in Sri Lanka. Last year was such a whirlwind of activity that it just flew by. It was really good to have a break back in Australia over Christmas and catch up with our family and friends.
As we look ahead we are hoping to really consolidate and build on our achievements from last year. We are looking to increase the number of English classes we are involved in. We are hoping to increase the size of our current classes and start three new ones by the end of next year.
The small business loans are only going to continue to grow and managing them will give us plenty to do. We will incoperate the visits to these with our new mobile resource library which will be great. We are really looking forward to what this year holds.

TO SARONG OR NOT TO SARONG: THAT IS THE QUESTION

2008-11-30T22:15:00.003+05:30

One thing that still intrigues me - and I believe always will - is the sight of a man in a sarong. Obviously, coming from a Western country, I am unaccustomed to seeing so many sarong-wearing men on a daily basis and it has got me wondering what it is that causes the sarong to be so enduring. Sure, many men wear shorts or trousers but it seems the encroachment of these modern, Westernised garments has had little threat on the existence of the sarong. I figure the sarong must have some serious advantages for it to fare so well in the face of trousers.

If I find myself sitting watching a conversation, say, between three men - two wearing sarongs and one wearing trousers - I will inevitably start wondering what caused two of them to decide to don sarongs that day and the other trousers. And are they in any way conscious of the differences in their attire. Do sarong-wearers secretly think that pants-wearers look silly? Do pants-wearers laugh about sarong-wearers behind their backs? Does a sarong-wearer ever wear pants or a pants-wearer ever wear a sarong?

Now I know a few simple questions could put an end to all this wondering but now I wonder if I really want the answers or would I rather keep the mystique. If I were to find that to a Sri Lankan the difference between someone wearing trousers and another wearing a sarong was akin to the difference in my eyes between a lady wearing a skirt and another wearing slacks, would the enigma of the sarong be lost forever? So I won't ask. I'll just watch a shopkeeper standing behind his counter in his sarong and bare chest and think how great it is to be able to go to work in the same clothes you might wear while kicking back at the end of the day.

HOW NOW BROWN COW?

2008-11-28T11:56:00.005+05:30

Unlike Australia, where cows will tend to be found in paddocks, Sri Lankan cows can be found anywhere, getting up to all sorts of mischief. Today I thought I would share my favourite cow anecdotes with you.

One sure-fire place to find cows is along the road leading up to the school my children attend. At the start of the road there is a large bull, owned by a man who chops wood to make kindling. He then puts it into his bullcart for the bull to pull and him to sell. When the bull is not pulling, he is usually found grazing across the road from the owner's house. However, occasionally I have seen him tethered to a post out the front of the owner's house. Not such a big deal, except that this bull is massive and the post is small and simple - and supports the house! It's a good thing for the owner that the bull never decides to go walk-about while tethered to the house.

Further along the road you will find a small herd of cows - maybe about 5 - and their calves. They are there every day, without fail, always at the same place, ambivalent to the traffic congestion around them. And why are they there? Well, this seems to be the place that people dump their rubbish. So the cows gather there and munch their way through plastic bags of refuse. Cows love rubbish. In fact, I suspect they actually love rubbish more than grass, as there are places where they might potentially graze on green grass but still they choose the rubbish. Burger, anyone?

Occasionally the cows do go for a bit of a wander along the road but it's not grass they're looking for. A sight that never fails to amuse me is a cow that has wandered up to one of the open-fronted shops that line the street and is standing at the counter as though it is trying to purchase a bun or banana. If it gets a little too inquisitive the shop owner will try and shoo it away before it tries to enter the shop but, more often than not, it is ignored until it figures it's not going to get anything and wanders back to the rubbish pile, where it figures it has better chances of getting something to eat.

Of course, the road to school is not the only place to find cows. In the centre of town, near the market area is an open area that is mostly gravel but does have patches of grass. Recently, a small herd of cows - again, maybe 5 or so plus calves - spent the day here (though goodness knows how they got there). Anyway, in one corner of the open space is a gravel pile. On this particular day the cows were up for a bit of excitement and adventure so they all decided to climb the gravel pile. There they were, all trying to fit themselves atop the gravel pile; the uppermost cows standing very proudly at the peak. I think they needed to plant a flag and claim the gravel pile in the name of all cow-dom.

But my all time favourite place to find cows is in the McDonalds car park. Does any more need to be said? Yes, today's blog was simply my excuse to use my favourite Sri Lanka photo.

DRIVING AT NIGHT

2008-11-17T10:05:00.003+05:30

Driving long distances is never fun, especially with two children. In Sri Lanka, long distance takes on a whole new meaning. A trip to school can take as long as thirty five minutes in the morning, when traffic is bad. However, travelling the same route in the evening it may only take ten minutes. So it is not so much the distance that gobbles up all the time. It is more the condition of the road (bad to very bad), the traffic (busses, trucks, bikes, tractors, cars, vans and pedestrians in a single lane) and the speed limit (60km on open road) that ensure that a 100km trip can take as long as two and half hours.

We have now revised our concept of a long drive. Previously anything over two hours was long. Now we consider long to be anything over three or four hours. Below that is just a part of getting from A to B. If it doesn't become too frequent the boys actually look forward to a good trip as they get to play with the trip toys - their handheld computer games. The favorite at the moment is Star Wars, which can be a bit tricky, with Brenton being the master and Jaymon his padawan. Brenton is particularly patient generally and will guide his young apprentice in the ways of the gameboy without too much fuss.

Jaymon takes just as much enjoyment out of watching someone else play, especially any visitors that happen to be in the car. He will usually berate any that are unable to help him in the harder levels of Star Wars. Observing their failure, he will launch into an in-depth explanation of the best characters (which is Darth Vader "cos he can choke") and the best way to win (obviously without the help of his new pupil).

Most of the time we travel during the daylight hours as we try to keep some kind of regular schedule for the boys. However, at times it is neccessay to travel at night. Each time we do I invariably say to Hayley, "I really like travelling at night here", to which she generally replies, "Yeah I really love it too. Don't we say that every time we travel at night?". (Yes we do)

In Sri Lanka, the night is the best time for driving. Not because the traffic is any better, because it never is (you put 20 million people on an island the size of Tassie and see how the traffic is). But you get to see an entirely different side of Sri Lanka. People are more relaxed and lively at the same time, with the night offering relief from the ever present heat that is part of the daylight hours. Its not like there are more people around, it's just that they seem to stand out more. During the day the people just form a vague moving mass, while at night you see individuals living their life.

You notice the bbq shops that are scattered every few hundred meters down the road that in the day were empty dull concrete stalls. The produce at stalls tends to jump out of the darkness as each shop is lit from the inside while the road is rarely lit except by the headlights of passing cars. Each shop has it's own version of lighting, with the most common being fluro tubes that hang elegantly by their wiring. This lighting entitles you to a glimpse into each little shop, leaving you imagining the life that is being lived in that little world.

IN THE WORLD WHERE YOU LIVE (A CROWD OF HOUSES)

2008-11-14T19:08:00.010+05:30

I think one of the most common questions I have been asked about Sri Lanka is "What are the houses like?". It's a difficult question to answer because there are so many different types to be found. There are Portuguese-era houses, Dutch-era houses and British-era houses. There are city houses, rural houses, high country houses and low country houses. There are slum houses and mansions and houses for anywhere in between. Plantation bungalows and fishermen's houses; modern buildings and ones that look like they have come straight from a story book; there is such a diverse range of architecture that I thought that the best way to answer the question would be with a photo tour.

A modest Negombo home. The family here can not afford all the finishing touches but it is a solid roof over their heads.

Most larger, modern houses follow this style. They are common in developed areas and occassionally can even be found springing up in rural areas. They are elaborate and decorative and, like a frightened animal, like to appear bigger than they really are.

A fisherman's home on the beachfront.

A beautiful rural home, complete with immaculate garden. Something pretty to drool over.

Here's a novel concept. The owner of this old home leases out his verandah to numerous lawyers. Several old tables are lined up along the verandah, each one being the 'office' of a different lawyer. The signs you can see along the lattice are advertising the different lawyers who can be found there. The home owner and his family still reside inside.

In the jungle.

Every now and then you will come across grand old dames such as this one. Cracked and falling apart in places, they still ooze so much more character and charm than most of their modern counterparts.

I doubt I'd be brave enough to stand on it, but it sure is pretty to look at.

From simple (the pile of coconut husks out the front will probably be used for fuel) . . .

. . . to modest, yet stylish . . .

. . . to Sanath Jayasuriya's house. (For those, like me, who aren't really into cricket, Jayasuriya is a member of the Sri Lankan cricket team. Nice digs, huh?!).

A stilt house in the hill country.

Hidden treasures . . .

. . . and the bare necesseties.

A single-room thatch building in Puttalam. It can be said that a home is more than bricks and mortar . . . but then again, sometimes bricks and mortar would be a nice start.

I hope you enjoyed today's tour. Please watch your step as you alight from the bus and have a nice day!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GRANDMA!

2008-11-10T09:50:00.007+05:30

Brenton is simply fantastic when it comes to playing with the local kids.

Recently, the kids' school celebrated United Nations Day with a parade celebrating the 15 different countries represented at the school. Here are the proud representatives of the best nation in the world!

The kids playing on a recent trip to Nuwara Eliya.

Jaymon listening to a story in class. No, his class is not a training ground for batmen. This photo was taken on a special fancy dress day for the younger children.

Brenton waiting for the fancy dress parade with his class.

Jaymon's class at the fancy dress parade. Jaymon is Darth Vader. The excitement of being able to go to school dressed as Darth Vader gripped him for days prior to the event. Naturally, his light sabre was a big hit in this predominantly male class.

NUWARA ELIYA

2008-11-03T12:22:00.008+05:30

Recently we made the long road trip up to Nuwara Eliya for the second time. We were there to look at amenities for future Australian trips, visit prospective micro-finance applicants and see the general needs of this unique community.

We love going there because it is such a different part of Sri Lanka. Its great to be able to get away from the heat and humidity of Negombo. Nuwara Eliya is the only place in Sri Lanka where your main concern for accommodation is the hot water and not the airconditioner. At 2000m ASL the children take immense pleasure in going through the clouds and wearing their jumpers for a few days.

As you travel up the mountain the vehicle air conditioner is turned off and the windows are opened, letting in the cool mountain air. The tea estates start to appear and eventually all that can be seen in all directions are the tea bushes interspersed with larger trees to control the erosion on the steep slopes. Some of the more common trees used for this are Gum trees so it really makes us think of home with gum trees everywhere.

As you approach the city you see vegetables sellers have their wares spread alongside the road. Those that can afford to have covered stalls while those that don't, display theirs on the road verge. The area around Nuwara Eliya is great for growing vegetables and you can get sorts that are not grown in the low country. Carrots, leeks, potatoes and rhubarb are the ones that I can recognise and have English names. Regardless of it's name, it is all a fraction of the cost of Colombo. As a result, the majority of these stalls cater to those that have come to Nuwara Eliya for a visit and then stock up on the cheap fresh produce on the way home.

The vendors are supplied by the market gardens that surround Nuwara Eliya and every possible piece of land is utilised with terraces and retaining walls. The ground is rich and the gardens produce the vegetables and also flowers. The locals wander round with jackets and beanies on all day which gives it an almost alpine feel, although they still have bare feet.

Heading out of Nuwara Eliya the mountain gets particularly steep for about 20km and the road twists and turns, with hair pins, blind corners and steep drop offs. However, the view is spectacular as one minute you are looking over the top of a villiage or tea factory and the next you are driving alongside those you have been peering down on. People are oblivious to the danger and quite happily wander next to the road. It is truly an amazing experience.

VISITORS FOR THE WEEKEND

2008-10-17T10:42:00.005+05:30

Last weekend we were fortunate enough to have friends from home come and stay for the weekend. A couple of days is not long to show off the best that Sri Lanka has to offer, so it was definitely an action-packed weekend.

First stop after the airport was Colombo. We visited a family that lives on the train tracks. We had a delivery of art materials to make here. We had discovered a young lad with artistic talent and we were equipping him to start a small business making and selling cards. The good news for him is that he already has his first order.

Saturday morning was spent with a group of children we have been doing English classes with. They learnt a new song and loved performing a story in drama.

We read them a story from a book.

An art activity was a special treat for the children. They enjoyed tracing and decorating their hands.

One of the finished products.

We then headed off to have lunch with a local family. After lunch, there was a special music lesson and a bit of a sing-along. I'm sure you can imagine this boy's delight when he was told he was being given this guitar to keep. He kept practising for hours afterwards while we drank tea and admired wedding photos.

Sadly, though, all good things must come to an end. By Sunday morning it was time for our friends to move on. There was time for a whirlwind tour of Negombo; the heart of the town, the vegie markets, the fish markets, the boats on the lagoon and the all-important shopping centre for the obligatory box of Sri Lankan tea. Then a peaceful coffee on the beach strip before dashing off to the airport. Oh, how time flies when you're having fun!

BIG BUSINESS IN SRI LANKA

2008-10-03T13:46:00.002+05:30

As part of our work we are helping people to start their own business. This is based on what skills they possess and the needs of a particuar area. As a result, we have been learning a bit about the way business works in Sri Lanka.

The road that we travel to take the children to school is a very busy road. In reality, it is probably better described as a very busy sealed track. Noting the amount of traffic, an enterprising young lady decided that it would be an ideal place to put her little stall. This sells fruit, nuts and a few vegetables that passers by could pick up. It must be a success because it is still there even after a few months. This success was obvious because shortly after someone else had decided to cash in on it. Another lady has set up a stall selling exactly the same thing right next to hers. Anywhere else this would cause no end of anomosity, but not in Sri Lanka. Both of these stalls are operating right next to each other still.

The exact same principle has created a lot of the small towns around Sri Lanka. This is extremely obvious on the road to Kandy. First you pass through cashew town, where young girls flag down passing cars to sell cashews - this waving becomes quite animated when white skin is seen. You will then pass through cane basket town, followed by clay pot village and lastly hot salted corn place in the middle of nowhere (maybe soon to be village).

In Colombo there are entire districts that are dedicated to one particular industry or selling a particular product. Although respectful of each other, competition is fierce. This results in any small difference being scrutinised and duplicated. So a successfull shop will inevitably have their signs copied. Trying to identifiy a partcular shop can be difficult but on the up side if I need a clay pot I know which town I need to go to.

THE MOMENTS I'VE MISSED

2008-10-02T13:20:00.003+05:30

When I was a child my aunty gave me my first camera for my birthday. I remember my Grandma telling me that I should take it with me wherever I go because you never know when the perfect photo opportunities might present themselves. Today's post is all about how I should heed my Grandma's advice more diligently. I want to share with you four fleeting moments I wish I could have captured on camera but, sadly, I did not have it with me.

The first moment occurred while I was waiting outside the shipping agents while Darren was trying to organise the arrival of our goods into the country. On the opposite side of the street was a long, rendered wall, standing a good couple of metres high. It seemed to be an old wall, although sometimes it is hard to judge. It's grey surface was patterned with blacks and greens where the climate and time had played their hands. Even on it's own it held an interest for the eye. A lady hurried past and the vibrant yellows and oranges of her punjabi suit and head scarf shone out against the backdrop of this timeless wall. The brilliant colours billowed as the wind played with the materials and then in a moment both she and her colours were gone. In that instant I knew that this was the stuff that travel photographers would dream of and I felt like I had, indeed, stepped straight inside a travel book complete with beautiful, glossy photographs.

The second moment was found and missed on a trip to take the boys to school. As you drive along the streetsides are busy with a steady stream of bicycles and pedestrians, streetside stalls, shops and homes. I like to try and look further back, trying to catch glimpses of what lies behind the busy street side. That morning I caught sight of a large shed, or it is probably more appropriate to call it a lean-to; large sheets of corrugated iron held up by poles and boarded around with rough planks. There was little inside the shed; a dirt floor and one basic, wooden bench upon which sat a man, perhaps a little past the prime of his life. He wore a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, both of which had clearly seen a lot of work, and his feet were, naturally, bare. Around him, little beams of light pushed their way into the otherwise dark area through the multitude of holes in the tin and cracks between wooden planks. They shone brightly, catching the dust that was floating in the air. One of those moments where light plays so perfectly with shadow and the subject seems to display the very essence of humanity. Ah . . . so perfectly designed for a photo and then in a second the van had moved on and, once again, the busy streets dominated.

For the third moment I actually had the camera with me, but again we were travelling in a van . . . so quickly moving on. We were on our way back from hiking in World's End, which is situated in national park. It was a Thursday and, as it turns out, Thursday is wood collecting day. On Thursdays, locals have permission to collect firewood from within the domain of the park. As we travelled out of the park we passed several women carrying firewood. After collecting the long, thin branches, the women bundle them up and carry them home, balanced upon their heads. It was an amazing sight to see these women emerging from the forest hills piled up with sticks. Sadly, I was too embarrassed to ask the driver to stop so that I could happy-snap this delightful image and now, as I write this, I am kicking myself. Next time I go back to Horton's Plains I am going on a Thursday.

The final moment I wish to share with you was seen on a trip home from school with the boys. Ttwo men were walking down the street carrying a single bed. Now, I'm pretty sure that you have a mental image of two men carrying a bed between them, one at the head and the other at the foot. However, these men were carrying a bed EACH! The mattresses had been removed and so had two of the slats in the centre of each bed. Each man then stood in the middle of the bed where the removed slats had once been. They carried a wooden pole over their shoulders, as though bringing water from a well, but each end of the pole was attached to an end of the bed by a rope. They then walked down the road carrying their respective beds around them, bearing the weight with the pole on their shoulder. Amazing!!

So I wish I had my camera with me to capture those moments. I know they are captured in my mind but it would have been so much quicker and easier to share them with you visually than verbally. So I hope that my humble attempts to make words serve me have inspired your imaginations so that they too might see these beautiful, fleeting moments. We're off to do an English class this afternoon. Think I might just go and pack my camera now, before I forget.

JAYMON'S BIRTHDAY

2008-09-08T11:02:00.010+05:30

Jaymon is now five. Although his birthday was on Friday, according to him that was only the day that he was turning five. He wouldn't actually be five until after his party on Saturday. You can't argue with that logic. I know - I tried and failed.

As is the tradition, we had a party and - against the tradition for children's parties - we didn't go to Maccas. We thought that a pool party would be great. It is always warm and we wouldn't have to organise many activities.

Then came the rain or, should I say, and the rain kept coming. We have had maybe two dry days in the last two weeks. So we went to plan B and moved the party inside, which was quite successful although more work! I bought some huge balloons which popped proportionally louder than their smaller cousins, like crackers going off. There was literally a cheer from the parents when the last one popped. After some inside games the kids were getting restless. Fortunately the rain stopped enough for a game of lolly hunt in the garden and by the time cake was eaten and I let off another a king size party popper (it was as big as a roll of wrapping paper and fires a wheelbarrow full of streamers, all for $4.00-bargain) the show was begining to wind down.
Finally we were able to use the pool. How great is that?! Even though it rained all morning it was still warm enough for a swim.

NIWTON AND WINNETHA

2008-09-01T11:20:00.009+05:30

As part of our priorities here we are providing money to Sri Lankans to start their own small businesses. I have given an insight into one of these already (see The Eggman - Niwton).

The other is Winnetha, a single mother who previously had a sewing business until her machine broke beyond repair. As so often is the case, she didn't have enough money to buy a new one. We gave her a loan so that she could buy a new machine. She currently makes pillow cases and sheets from offcuts from the large garment factories that are in her area. Any offcuts that are too small for this are used to make doormats. The thread that she uses is also from the garment factories, now too small to be used in the automated machines.

The business has progressed in the last two months and she now has a regular order of 100 pillow cases a month. Her son makes these deliveries and sells the goods on a bike she was able to buy from the profits. He also maintains the machines and assists with the cutting and is learning some basic tailoring. Here in Sri Lanka, most of the tailors are men so this hopefully will give him some opportunity in that field.

On my last visit we collected the monthly repayment and got some feedback on her business and how it is impacting her. She tells me, "Having the business has given me a hope for the future because I am in control of my income." Previously Winnetha relied on odd jobs and the generosity of others in her community and family to survive. She also mentions that having to make repayments keeps her accountable and committed to her work.

Winnetha hopes in the next 12 months to sell her machine so that someone else can start a small business in another area and buy a more sophisticated machine. She will then be able to make more than just simple items and increase her profit.

We are currently looking at three more businesses to start up in the next few weeks. This is something that is making an obvious change in people and we are excited with what the future holds.

FLASH THOSE PEARLY WHITES!

2008-09-01T09:45:00.021+05:30

Living in a country where English is not the mother tongue, I have come to a greater appreciation of how vital communication is to each of us. Almost every moment of every day we are communicating to those around us, or afar, often without being aware of it. And yet, after months of developing new language skills, it is only fairly recently I came to a greater awareness of the significance of a communication tool that transcends language, is learnt in infancy and can be used by all.

The smile. There is some piece of trivia that surfaces occasionally (I'm sure you will be familiar with it) exhorting us to smile as

frowning requires the use of many more muscles. It seems like a trite piece of trivia but
further thought might encourage us to put those smiling muscles to

work. We all know that a smile can show that you're happy but so much more can also be communicated with a simple smile

A smile can be disarming. It can show that I come in peace and mean no harm. It can ask you to trust me and can indicate that I only intend to treat you with kindness.

With a shy smile, accompanied perhaps with a drop of the head or lowered eyes, one can show deference to another, humbly requesting that they treat you with kindness and sympathy. Or one might use a broad smile and a nod of the head for a confident greeting.

A stranger can be made to feel welcome and accepted with a friendly beam. Without a word, they can be made to feel safe and at ease. A smile in return can communicate appreciation for these simplest of kindnesses.

A smile allows us to tease or flirt. A coquettish smile and fluttered eyelashes can win a heart. Yet a leery grin can have completely the opposite effect. And, girls, don't we well understand the importance of knowing when a smile should be absent!

A goofy grin can be our apology when we are feeling socially awkward. In return, a friendly smile can ease the discomfort of the one who feels so very out of their depth.

A smile can show our approval; for a tasty meal, a child's artwork or someone's hard efforts. Our smile can bring encouragement to others who have possibly poured their heart and soul into what they have done and simply want to feel appreciated.

All without a word! It's amazing how much can be communicated in a fleeting moment and how little we realise what we are 'saying'. What's more, do we ever fully appreciate how much effect these communications can have on others? So, smile! Besides, it takes much less effort than frowning.