Sweat, Soda, Surveys & Sand

Day two in the field. We were off again, picked up our take-away curry and rotis from the local diner, and hit the ground running. I gave an impromptu, and short, speech to the Ampara office staff about HQ, who we are and what we could do for them. The mother-ship is such a far off entity, that it is easy to understand the confusion and sometimes apprehension that surrounds its mystique. A face to my name, assurance that we are there to help the field office get the support it needs, and a bag of dark-chocolate Hershey kisses, all seemed to elicit friendly smiles.

Today we headed north to an area that had been held by the opposition until the last year or so. This seemed especially evident by the increased number of check-points and armed soldiers standing on either side of the road. I had tried to sneak a few pictures of said armed guards, but on this particular drive, it was confirmed that that might not be a bright idea, since one of the staff sitting behind me in the van apologetically said “Madame, you must put your camera away, they might think you are taking pictures of them”. And, well, they would be right. And so away, is where it went.

In the village we visited, we were observing the staff conducting a final survey of participation and knowledge of beneficiaries in particular programs. It was hot, hot, hot, and while we found shade to sit in, and the occasional breeze blessed us, I proceeded to sweat, sweat, sweat. Some kind and hospitable hostesses brought us cream soda and bright orange soda, which tasted so, so good, and much like the coconut yesterday served to get me through to our very late lunch stop, though I had acquired a throbbing headache. However before that, we visited some farmers growing eggplant, peppers and squash in very sandy soil just inland from the beach. So what’s a group of expats to do? We visit the beach of course. This was a tricky business because the military guards the beach. So our poor staff convinced the guards that we were of the harmless, silly foreigner variety and they would keep an eye out for any shenanigans – or else they just said a bunch of NGO staff wanted to visit the beach – and to the ocean we went. It was deserted and beautiful. But no trip to the beach is complete without the requisite sneaker wave which dosed us all, soaking our community leader's front, splashing straight up my skirt, and getting James’ socks (yes, socks with sandels - crazy) and trousers sandy and wet.

Field Day

We are staying at a hotel that wants to be a motel, or a hotel without a shell. And in true S. Asian, style, the construction on upper floors does not get in the way of being fully operational. Which explains the ban-saws at 6:45am. My room is supposedly one of the best, and I guess I just lucked out, because it is opposite the restaurant, the service desk and a sitting area where the staff seems to take its rambunctious breaks late at night. But I don’t mean to complain, just to be descriptive. It’s the best hotel in town, the foyer is rather luxurious, there should be wireless but seems to be on sporatically, and it has good A/C, but only cold water.

Our first full day in Ampara, saw us traveling out to the field to visit a village to pilot a training for farmers to use a record keeping tool. This form will help the staff collect data about how the program is or is not helping the farmers and will also help the farmers keep track of their expenditures to better assess their production needs. Our van got lost trying to find the meeting, and after a hour or two of traversing one-lane dirt roads between rice fields, the staff opted to call together a bunch of other beneficiaries. So with a late start, and a training that took an hour longer than planned, we missed lunch. And just when I thought I was going to become one with my plastic chair, one of the trainees jumped up and started handing out the king coconuts that they had earlier cut down from a larger palm tree nearby and had hacked off the tops with a rustic machete. Oh, that coconut water hit the spot. Then they cleaved it in half and scraped out the meat for us. This kept us going until we could finally get back to town for some snacks.

It was a beautiful day out in the village. A storm was thundering off in the distance and a cool breeze made me feel (albeit without the hunger factor) like I should be sitting on a colonial patio whiling away the day. Instead I tried to stay engaged while farmers calculated how much it costs them to produce a harvest, and since many are illiterate, several of the young women in the community were helping the older men fill out their forms. Once done, away they went, newly acquired pencils, pens, knowledge, and absconded calculator tucked in pockets, on foot and on old bicycles, absorbed back into the nooks and crannies of the community from where they emerged. We got back in our good ship MC – flag to boot – and headed back down the bumpy roads to Ampara, to the internet, a/c, and noisy hotel rooms.

Road to Ampara

Today, the J-team: Jarrod, Ajaz, James & Joanna (and the driver and me), hit the road for day long journey to Ampara on the east side of the country. The drive took us through small but chaotically organized towns, up in elevation in the hill country, through the picturesque cultural town of Kandy, past blue lakes, green fields, and lush jungle. And past security check-points a plenty. The check points sprung up after we left Kandy and headed toward the east, which up until a few years ago was partly controlled by the opposition. Check points consist of several armed, uniformed guards asking our driver where we are going and checking both his and Joanna’s MC id badges. We’d been told they might check our passports but so far (several days later) they have not. Our vehicle is fully marked and while the government is not terribly welcoming of NGOs, they so far are okay with them and the UN remaining in the area, where they have been since the tsunami in 2004.

As we passed through Kandy, they are having a week long exhibition of Buddha's tooth at the Temple of the Tooth. Long, long lines of white clad visitors line the path around the central lake waiting their turn for a viewing. The city was beyond it's usual level of chaos and traffic and slowed our trip, but increased our experience greatly.

Weekend in Colombo

After one final half-day conference session on Saturday, and the requisite attendee photos, the gates were opened and we were released into the city to do some damage. As it turned out, mine was of the monetary variety. Under the consumerist-wing of my colleague (and predecessor) Rachael, who is now based in Myanmar, she guided, okay, pushed, me through the world of salwar kameez shopping. She may as well have been S. Asian in a previous life because she knew what to ask for, what to look at and better yet, was a fairly decent haggler. Because Afghanistan will probably be a sure bet on my travel destination list this year, we looked for long sleeved plain outfits. Salwar kameez are the long tunic, billowy pants with a scarf thrown backwards over own’s shoulders. In AFG that translates into a head wrap instead. This being Colombo, we found mostly bright and sometime outlandish colors and decoration. In the end bought four – one of which required a tailor since it was only the fabric with the decorated neck line. I’m still in a bit of shock over purchasing so much that I will wear so infrequently.

That night, our crew reconvened at Galle Face Hotel for a lovely sunset and dinner on the ocean. Many were leaving that night and the next day while I few of us were departing Monday for the long drive out to Ampara for a field visit.

Conference with a view

My initial reason for coming to Colombo is to attend the regional design, monitoring & evaluation (DM&E) conference for work. Monday through Saturday we spend the work day in a conference room at the hotel, meeting for breakfast and stopping for morning and afternoon tea/ coffee breaks and lunch. And it's the only time we have internet access so, um, yeah, I'm listening to a presentation right.this.very.minute. Staff are here from Afghanistan, Pakistan, Nepal, Myanmar, India, Kashmir and Sri Lanka. It's very "small world after all" hearing staff from AFG, PAK and India speaking to each other in one native language.

Our evenings are free though we seem to be rather isolated in this part of town. Tuesday evening, my boss Diane, who is based in Bangkok, and I discussed work over a glass of wine on the veranda of the old colonial style Galle Face Hotel, looking out over the Indian Ocean as dusk fell. Yeah, it's tough but someone's gotta do it. Later after a nice Indian meal, on my way back to my hotel, I mused over how much I enjoy humid, night-rides in tuk-tuks weaving through the crazy traffic of South Asian cities.

Wednesday evening was our group dinner with the Colombo office staff where we dined out at a restaurant on the beach. While very nice and full of ambiance, not as romantic as it sounds with stray cats circling your chair for handouts, the occasional rodent making a mad dash, and as one expat staff claimed, the possibility of picking up worms if you go barefoot in the sand. Interestingly, the rail lines run between the main road and the ocean, thus any business that wants to be on the beach requires customers to navigate these busy railroad crossings. It makes you wonder about the casualty rate of inebriated people stumbling across three sets of tracks after a night out. However, well fed and talked out, we all made it home safely.

Colombo city of heat and shopping

Today a city tour had been arranged so that we could have a day to decompress, get to know each other and see something of the city - since the rest of our days we would be housed in the hotel conference room. But it was not the city tour we were expecting. The tour guide took us past non-descript government buildings, the city library, and a few monuments. However we kept zipping by some really cool temples and religious sites. Finally we made the guide stop so we could visit a Buddhist temple that was out on a man-made lake, despite his protests that we would have to pay - we didn't. In the end we really didn't see much, but maybe there isn't much to see in Colombo?

Regardless, our "tour" was side-tracked by everyone's desire to visit the renowned shopping centers where consumer lore tells of finding high end fashion at bargain basement prices. Four years ago my friends and I had spent several hours in these places and had been duly impressed. Not so, this time. Higher prices and chintzy garments had replaced what I remembered. But it was still enjoyable to be in air conditioning and soak up the local consumer flavor.

Our hotel is located across a busy road and railroad tracks from the ocean and, with the luck of facing west, every night we are treated to a sunset over the Indian Ocean. My first evening, after our tour, a few of us decided to head to the beach. No easy task this. We dodged the haphazard traffic, crossed three train tracks to then navigate the garbage dump of a beach to join 200 hundred of our closest local friends (it was Sunday and crowded) to find a semi-clean spot on the sand to watch the great orange ball drop into the haze on the horizon above the sea. Still, it's Sri Lanka, it's the beach, it's warm, and it's the ocean. Very nice.