A tear drop shaped Island off the southern coast of India, a former British colony known as Ceylon-A magical country where time slows down.
The British left there mark here in many ways; some good, some bad. They may have transformed the once lush jungles into tea plantations killing off who knows how many endimic species, but a benefit to us is basic Englsih is widely spoken and understood even in remote villiges. This coupled with the peoples gentle way and eagerness to smile made for a lovely visit.
As usual 'no plan' was our plan. The first night we used airbnb; a kind of couch surfing where you pay people to stay in their house. We stayed with a very humble family outside the busy town of Kandy. This was a perfect introduction to the country- having a local pick you at the train station, take you to his house and feed you. That night we drank beer on his patio while his father-n-law chatted with us about Sri Lanka; from how to they make their local liquor to how the county us now emerging from a violent 3o year civil war. It was nice to learn some interesting facts about the country since we did no research before hand. Like...
It is illegal to smoke cigarets in public
The religious make up-70%Buddhist, 12% Hindu, Islam 11% and Christianity 7%
With a literacy rate of 92.5%,Sri Lanka has one of the most literate populations amongst developing nations
There is one tuk-tuk per every 20 people in the country! That is way too many!
13% of the land is protected but the civil war had a devestasting effect on the wild life.
The family and their cute house was so welcoming we decided to stay another night.
Monkey Business near our homestay in Kandy
Monkey's on hospital
Temple, Kandy
Meat Market
Market-Kandy
Can you take my photo- he asked.
We Westerners have a soft spot for trains despite the fact they are slow and stop every few kilometeres; we are more than willing to make them our main mode of transport in this country. The brightly colored train twists and turns it's way through the lush countryside. Up and around mountains, adorned in tea plantations-it is appears as though the mountain is a Japanese garden with bonsia trees cut into perfect intracite patterns. The train slowly chugs along creating a melodic click-clacking interupted frequently by the blow of it's horn. The windows are large and open but the door is the best spot to post out, hanging your feet off the edge. The Sri Lankan train is the best way to adjust your busy western mind to the slow-unhurried way of the locals. Waving to children, enjoying the brightly colored sari's that dot the countryside and allowing thoughts to come and go freely to your mind.
From train to train
Tea-Country
Waving to trains never gets old, I remember near my nonna's house running to wave at the train.
The freedom of the train
Best seat in the house
We ended our train trek in a random village, so random that even the conductor asked us if we missed our stop since the main tourist towns had past. We had heard this town had access to a national park were a guide was not required (a rarity here). Once we set foot in the village we knew we were in for an adventure...
After a walk down the mountainside we found a guy with a room to rent, a very simple, simple, and dirty room. But, for five dollars who can complain. I wondered what we would eat and what we would wipe our asses with but first things first...beer. Coming from a Muslim world we were anxious to be back in the world of 'free' drinking, and so we were surprised that although alcohol is available it is restricted and not a big part of the culture outside of resort towns. When Aaron inquired to our new friend if there was anywhere to buy beer he replied, " too, too far" but offered to take us to the nearest store for water. Although store seems to formal of a word for this closet that was littered with a few dusty commodities; it made Colombian tienda's look like super walmarts.
He took us in his tuk-tuk, his new, only-three-day-old tuk tuk, that he clearly did not know how to drive. This was not a good place to be with an inexperienced driver- steep, switch back mountain roads in the mist, we could see far below a place we did not want to crash to our death. A few stalls and swerves later, Aaron took over as the driver and some how we were now on our way to a boot-leg whiskey dealer. A ramshackle cottage at the top of the world where tea plantation workers are living a hearty life- their teeth were unspeakable but through the rot the smile was friendly and welcoming and seem to say 'sure buy my bootleg booze.'
The long drive back to the cottage Aaron honed his skills as a tuk-tuk driver and soon he was hired by some villagers to take them to the town which was about an hour away. He couldn't refuse and they thought it was the funniest thing to be in a tuk-tuk with a white driver. Aaron was up for the adventure and I stayed behind and played with the neighbor children; they gave me some lesson's in their language Sinhalese. Much appriciated.
The night started out wonderfully- after crying our way through a spicy meal with the neighbors we drank whiskey, sat by a bonfire while listening to sitar music and tried the local equivalent to chewing tobacco called Beetle Nut. Then when we went to bed it was all down hill...mosquitos came in herds, buzzed our ears and munched our face- we laid awake all night in the world's most uncomfortable bed staring at the world's dirtiest ceiling. The rising of the sun was sweet relief. Over-tired we headed to the nearby national park- a beautiful cloud forest with plains, monkeys, deer and wide opened spaces with wind swept trees.
Waiting at the quiet railway station
Horton Plains National Park
A train, bus, and tuk-tuk later we were on the coast just outside the small surf town of Aragum Bay. We stumbled upon an incredible place that was yet to be open for the season but with some persuasion we convinced the owner to let us stay. We stayed for a week, the only tourist sleeping on this beach, for a mere 15 bucks a night with amazing meals. The view, isolation, peacefulness and ideal proximity to the surf made up for having to share our room with many creatures including....a snake, toad, and families of cockroaches....it was really a nice place though.
Our home for the week
The beach and break a few meters from the home...
The coast in this area was quiet, as the true season had yet to begin, the little town is set among rice paddies, where water water buffalo and peacocks roam. We spent the majority of our time surfing and relaxing- the surfing (for us) was ideal- consistent, uncrowded (many times we had the wave to ourselves) and an incredibly positive vibe- especially from the locals.
We took a few excursions with rented motor bikes and tuk-tuks. Where we got to see some wild animals from the road side. Our nights were quiet, with curry, cards and early sleep. A few times the owner (a kid a little younger than us) had friends over and once we joined them as they played tablas, sang local music (kind of bali-wood style) and at jumbo prawns. The songs were entertaining as they were in a foreign language but as they tried to translate the meaning, I had the realization that this was the equivalent of five shirtless 20-somethings getting together and singing love ballads in the vain of Brian Adams and Celine Dion. Hard to judge as they explained that they had all lost someone in the 2004 tsunami. One had lost a child, another a wife and another their parents- they explained that is why these songs meant so much to them. These tsunami stories were everywhere and often left me wondering how a place survives such loss or more literally what did this very beach look like as the water rushed it's shores and stole so many lives? Strange.
Fisherman down the beach
Bathing Water Buffalo
Roadside temple
Cruising & Burning
Pulling over to see wild elephants from the roadside, and added bonus since we had decided we were NOT going on a 'safari'
Plowing the rice padis
In our seven days at the beach side cabana a lovely Swiss couple made the journey each day by tuk-tuk to surf on the beach where we were staying. We became quick friends, filling our days with intriguing conversations, great laughs and waves.
After a week, we decided to travel together back west as we made our way back to Colombo to fly home. The coastal road that led back was windy and narrow and our van had to share the way with bikes, cows, cyclist and insane buses. It was white knuckles for six hours. I was wondering if we would live but our driver remained calm and peaceful even when a large bus was rapidly approaching us in our lane. I was more than glad to arrive in the coastal town alive. We found a beautiful beach to spend our last few days of freedom. Turqiouse bays, sea breeze, delicious seafood and wonderful company. We didn't want it to end.
View from our room
Our last Sri Lankan Sunset
Morning fishing
But alas, nothing gold can stay so we said good-bye to our friends. We boarded a hot, muggy, stuffy, sweaty, sweltering train and meandered up the coast line toward Colombo.
Hungry, and perhaps dehydrated, from the four hour sweating marathon we stupidly stopped at the first road side eatery we could find. Three hairs and two rocks found in 5 rotti- are bad odds but the wasn't the worst of it. As the ginger beer brought us back to life, we took a look around and realized that we were eating in THE most dirty establishment in our lives....and we have been to some bad ones. I could have puked but was too hot. This plus drinking the local water- I am just waiting for the sickness to set in.
A short video, vocals provided by my 10-year-old Singhalese teacher...cameos include Aaron 'the white tuk-tuk driver', fast friends surfing slow waves and transport Sri Lankan style.
So we are back...back in the heat as the Arabian Summer begins. We thought we could squeeze in one more weekend camping at the beach but as we slept under the stars, the wind seized, the bugs attacked and we sweated our way through our last night of camping. Saying good-bye to this littered desolate beach that has become our only saving grace would have been emotional except it was too f'n hot to be anything but aggrivated. 'So Long-ghetto Carlo!'
In a small town outside of Abu Dhabi was a water sport festival/competition- typically weird for this region.
Aaron
With camping finished and Spring Vacation passed all we can do is count our days till freedom. And counting we are.
Looking forward to seeing so many of you, and returning, if only for a few days, to my city that has had the unfortunate fame these last few days- it has been hard watching from a far and I am so glad my family and friends are safe. Crazy, crazy world.
