2016 Sri Lanka: Serendipity Pt III – Interpretainment at Uda Walawe

We woke early, at 4am to be ready for our National Park encounter. A driver had been arranged the previous day and, only a few moments late, we met him at 5am for our sojourn. My companion napped in the reclining seat while I, fully awake, soaked in our journey. Our driver did not speak a great deal of English – a common circumstance – but enough for a few words of conversation now andthen.

A few hours later, after a pot of tea and a switch to a jeep, our park guide at Uda Walawe climbed aboard and we set off into the majestic preserve. We rambled for hours through a wonderland of flora and fauna, a Sri Lankan safari reminiscent of the universal idea of what Africa is like, even for those who have never been. The landscape was transcendental, with the valley full of streams, watering holes, copses and giant rocks, while beyond the hills and mountains were clear as day.

A family of elephants, including a week-old baby, were among our first and last encounters. In between, our guide pointed out monkeys, water buffalo, hawks, eagles, peacocks (including one in full ‘dance’ mode), iguanas, and countless other birds. At the watering hole, two water buffalo were in a ‘fight’, although that mainly consisted of one stubborn bull chasing another (smart) one who was not interested in throwing down in the slightest. More power to you, brother.

Nearby the buffalo, lying in wait for unobserved calves no doubt, were three or four crocodiles. Swimming, lying prone, sinister, and terrifying – these monsters put to shame the ‘monster from the black lagoon’ we had feared in Tangalle. They swam to and fro, or sunned themselves, jaws agape, on small islands.

On the other end of the lizard spectrum, our guide was so amazing as to spot a chameleon on a branch from our rambling jeep. With his usual ‘tap-tap-tap’ of his ring on the railing, he signalled to our driver to halt- -pointed out the amazing creature – then, ‘tap-tap-tap’ we were off again.

BUT, and it’s a but…our guide knew the names of the animals in English and ‘Sir’ and ‘Madame’ and not much else. It is a privileged complaint to be sure – while English is the lingua franca for all the Germans, French, Chinese, and other tourists (a few brits – but we’re the only North Americans we’ve encountered) – I don’t expect all the Sri Lankans to learn flawless English alongside their Sinhalese and, often, Tamil.

BUT, and it’s a but…I went away not knowing much other than that these animals existed. That is, I went away entertained. But, as a tour guide and trainer of tour guides (all tour guides are interpreters, though not all interpreters are tour guides) I was a bit disappointed. Interpretation is a bit like goldilocks: we talk of Interpretainment – interpretation without a message, and Interpretorture – interpretation with only a message and no sense of wonder – and then proper interpretation is ‘just right.’

This was definitely the former. And what a waste! The national park has – I have read – a ‘halfway house’ for Elephants who are injured. They do a great job preserving natural species in the face of Sri Lanka’s expansion. They have troubles with local farmers knocking down the electric fence surrounding Uda Walawe and letting their cattle graze on the grass. There is a huge plastic-pollution problem in Sri Lanka.

But we heard none of it and we heard no call to action. We were not inspired to donate more than our entrance fee, nor to change how we live or do business in Sri Lanka (preserve water, not waste plastic bottles, etc). We thanked our guide, tipped him, and transferred back to our van for the rest of our trip to the hill-town of Ella.

I do not begrudge our guide, a veteran of ten years at the park who can spot a chameleon in a bush from a speeding jeep. I will always remember the magical experiences with the mountains in the background and the crocodiles gliding in their terrifying way towards the buffalo herd. But I can’t help but feel there could have been more to the experience.

A few days in Ella have been marvelous – with the great food promised (Rotti, a fried-dough sandwich reminiscent of Remedy) and a marvelous host at our guesthouse. He drew a map for us the other day and we followed it to the marvelous Nine-Arch Bridge, then climbed up to the local green tea factory for a tour. After that we strode past the 98 acres hotel (which has a helipad .A Helipad!) and climbed up to the ‘Little Adam’s Peak’ mountain to be treated to stunning vistas.

Unfortunately, in the opposite of serendipity, I stepped on a jagged rock on our last night in Tangalle and my left foot has a gash in the arch. I can sort of manage these hikes, but the awkward limp has made my ankle sore and I am worried for the weekend, when we attempt the top two hikes in Sri Lanka – The World’s End and Sri Pada (or Adam’s Peak).

I guess the only problem with this last hike, besides my sore foot, was the jungle leeches that jumped up from the muddy earth to nestle – some noticed and some unnoticed – in between our toes.

But what’s a blood-soaked sock in the face of Sri Lankan hill country?

2016 Sri Lanka: Serendipity Pt II – Seafoam and Fireflies

Hello from the sun-soaked beaches of Tangalle,

Nearing the end of our stay in this once-fishing-village-now-beach-house-mecca and very satisfied. We have just moved from a second-floor hotel room with an ocean view (simple, small, pleasant, hot) where we fell asleep to the ocean and awoke to the clattering of breakfast dishes and into a mud hut.

Seriously, though, it’s awesome. We wanted to try the mud-brick cabana nearer the inland lagoon (larger, cooler, just as nice, lots more bugs). It is proving a very pleasant change. Both have mosquito nets, but the mud cabana is so cool at night that we didn’t even need the fan (which also keep the bugs down). We are awoken in the morning to birds and not forks and fall asleep to the sound of crickets.

I wake up in the morning well before my companion, and head out up the beach. There is a small outcropping of rock just ten metres from the beach and in it’s lee, the surf is more bearable and the swimming is very pleasant. Swimming might be too grand a word, as I merely cavort and gambol in the crashing waves, mostly enjoying myself but also occasionally getting turned ass over teakettle and swept up on the shore like so much flotsam (or is it jetsam?).

By my return an hour later, I am hungry as an ox and we break our fast with the guesthouse buffet. We generally drink about three cups of the delicious tea, and I have hardboiled eggs, sambol (coconut, onion, and spice) in a popper (bowl-shaped pancake), followed by pineapple, papaya, and bananas.

After that, we find something to do for the rest of the morning – sometimes a walk, sometimes a kayak in the lagoon, sometimes another swim. Then head out into town for lunch (sometimes not quite as far as town, there are many pleasant beach cafes). Yesterday I had rotti, a fried bread stuffed with your choice of sweet or savouries. Today I had khottu rotti, where the fried bread is cut up into strips and served as lunch – in this case with eggs and veggies. We have explored the town over two days, but there is not a great deal to see. Mostly industrial, residential, and the places that the people of Tangalle frequent for shopping. By night we are back on the beach and visit one of the many beach cafes, with tables right in the sand for fresh seafood. As I think I said before, a good meal at dinner costs you about $10 and lunch about $5. Beer is plentiful, and we usually follow it up at night with arrack, a cognac-like liquor made from palm syrup. I have read that it is good mixed with ginger-beer, but we find we prefer it on its own – although it does pack a kick.

Much of the day, especially the hotter parts of it, are spent in hammocks and lounge chairs, listening to the surf and reading in the hot sun. I am just finishing a book on the history of the East India Company (very enjoyable, relevant, and a nice complement to my beloved HBC!) and my travelling partner a feminist book on spinsterhood. After this book is done I have another account of the Sri Lankan civil war to start upon.

While we read the local squirrels dash about the cabanas and restaurant, retrieving what they can – in some cases sampling the leftover lhassis on tables. Crows are usually faster though, or if they are not, easily bully away the squirrels to drink the lhassis themselves. I’m not kidding.

Like Thailand and Myanmar, there are stray dogs everywhere – Buddhists in this part of the world, I understand, are generally very kind to animals but do not have the same sense of pet/master as North Americans. The dogs are not  friendly or frightening, they seem to have little interest in humans. About the same size are the huge lizards whose names I do not know. When we saw the first one we were sure it was a crocodile, especialy given the four-foot long tail, the strangely moving legs, and the semi-aquatic nature. But their heads look more like iguanas or komodo dragons. We kayak’d beside one or two, but have not managed to get a good picture.

Last night we saw fireflies! My brothers can correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t think I’ve ever encountered them before so it was a magical evening.

Tomorrow we are off to a National Park (Uda Walawe) and then to Ella, a hill country town with some good hikes. Tangalle has been lovely, but like Thailand, the separation between the tourist guesthouses and the people is distinct. Besides our hosts, who are lovely but professional, we have only met two Sri Lankans.

One was an artist Indika Pathmananda, with whom we had a good conversation in his gallery and bought some pieces. He has studied art all his life, given exhibits in Europe, teaches in Colombo, but still lives and works in Tangalle. He lost 160 paintings in the tsunami and only recently re-opened his gallery here. He makes knick-knacks and lovely bowls and such for tourists, and also paints canvases.

The other was a young boy we met on an unsuccessful journey to a different gallery. He was about 10 and walking home from school and engaged us in conversation. We discussed where we were from and his schooling – his favourite subject being dance! When we asked him if he was studying English, he shook his head. “No, I only speak it. I cannot read or write it,” his reply was typical of non-North American linguistic ability. I was reminded of a TED talk we watched this year, about an Educator who ran experiments with self-directed learning in India. He would leave computers unattended there for a year and then come back. Sometimes he would give them tasks, sometimes not. Once he came back and the young people of the village were annoyed with him. The computer was set to English, they complained, so they had to teach themselves that language before they could begin to use the machine.

The south does not have reefs, but there is snorkelling on the East coast, Dad, and it sounds quite lovely, but we won’t have time to try it out. I’m sure the guesthouse could have arranged a day-trip for us, but I was too busy lying in a hammock and reading! The East is less touristy, I understand too, so it sounds like the place for you. There is some wreck diving as well.

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Serendipity #3 – We have, this last year, been enjoying via youtube a show called QI, a quiz-comedy show with Stephen Fry. The other night, while looking at the guesthouses library, we found that some other traveller had left behind the travelling quiz game based on said show. Nights of quizzery followed quickly, lubricated by the dark amber arrack and scored by the foaming Indian Ocean.

2016 Sri Lanka: Serendipity Pt I: Contrails, Rail-lines, and Footprints

I left on Tuesday morning.

It had been a hectic, but fun lead-up week, full of serendipitous events. First, a podcast Way with Words had a segment leading to the discovery that that most wonderful of words, serendipity, is derived from the Arabic word for Sri Lanka. A geographic locale hiding in plain sight.

Second, B and I’s Sunday event, the Frazey Ford concert at McDougall United Church had ended with that chanteuse’s rendition of “Indian Ocean”, a watery wonder that I have only recent spent time within.

I left on Tuesday morning, I arrived on Thursday morning. It was a long, punishing journey. Weather delayed our first flight, leading to a missed connection in Toronto. Our carefully planned hopping and skipping seemed doomed. To make matters worse, the gents in front of us at customer service were the worst sort of entitled, and confided to each other that they would be satisfied with no less than a bump up to First Class. They yelled and gesticulated, supplementing their designer clothes and fur-lined coats with power moves and low-throated ‘calm’ demands. Ugh.

The customer service agent we approached after they had been passed on to management was in rough shape – but confided to us that she was just about to go on 12 dsays of vacation herself. We were overly friendly, embarrassed at our fellow customers, and the long-suffering woman seemed to appreciate it. She rebooked our flights through London.

From Edmonton to Toronto, to London, to Dubai, to Colombo. Each flight at least six hours, with only about an hour in between every one of them. On the bright side, many of them were Emirates flights: comfortable, with good food and flight attendants in amazing red hats with a sandy-coloured swatch of cloth coming down from one side to drape across their shoulders.

On the downside, they lost our luggage.

So on Thursday morning in Colombo, we spent several hours finding our way to our ultmiate destination in the south. Dad will appreciate that the bus from the airpor was about a $1 and faster than the $30 dollar taxis. A train for little more than a $1 (About 100 Rupees) took us on another six hour jaunt to the south. Then to a bus. Two more hours. Then to a Tuk-tuk.

Finally, Thursday night after counltess hours of travel, we arrived after dark at Ghanesh Gardens, our idyllic beach-front hotel/huts in Tangalle.

Our bags arrived this morning, Saturday and the trip is already looking up. The Sri Lankans are lovely, their food is amazing, their beach is titanic, and the stars light up our nights. Beer is about $4, and a good meal about $10 – but these are ‘resort’ style prices, and things should be cheaper away from the tourist spots.

We will stay here on the beach for about a week, relaxing and reading in hammocks ; caovrting in the crashing waves; canoeing with crocodiles in the lagoon, and feasting on curries and hoppers (pancakes) and lhassis. After that, a journey through some of the Nat’l parks and interior, up to Kandy and the tea plantations, some hikes and then back to Colombo.

The return journey should be about 24 hours altogether.

Don’t look for a happy camper in March!

P.S. The entitled jerks at the airport didn’t get first class, but they did a comp’d limo to and from a fine hotel for the night. Ugh.