Happy New Year!

What's that, you ask? New Year's in April?

Yup! According to Sinhalese astrology, the new year begins when the sun moves from Pisces to Aries, and signals the end of the harvest and the beginning of spring. It is also one of two times a year that the sun shines directly over Sri Lanka.

We began our New Year's celebrations on April 14. We went to our friends Champika and Padmasiri's house in Kochikade for the afternoon.

He is an organic farmer, among other things, and was featured in a television special a few years ago on organic farming techniques. They served us traditional New Years treats, and we toured their property, startling two very large water monitors in the process! Our driver and the elders from our church were also invited in for some true Sri Lankan hospitality.

Elanor and I left with new sandals, gifts from these very generous folks, as well as a bag of fruit that Steve helped to pick, vegetables, and sweets.

It was a wonderful afternoon!

Then, on Saturday the 18th, the local branch of our church had their New Year's celebration. Oh, the fun that we had! The organizers put a lot of effort into making this a huge success. Our day started with Champika and her girls giving Elanor a beautiful traditional Sri Lankan dress that they had made for her.

Believe it or not, Elanor and Piyumi (in the purple dress) are almost the same age. Deshika (in the green dress) is three years older than Elanor.

You can see how much we all enjoyed ourselves throughout the rest of the day by clicking here to watch the video I made.

2015 May 18: Ekay Dekay Tunay

Steve often talks about his so-called 'nemesis bird', the one species that no matter how hard he looks, he just cannot see - the Indian pitta. He has spent over two years of his life in India and Sri Lanka, and this bird always eludes him. In this trip, one small newly created national park that we stumbled upon is known for having numerous migratory pittas throughout the winter months...and we arrived one week after they left. Poor Steve.

As for me, I seem to have found my nemesis language.

Growing up, I had no trouble learning French. In university, I took German and Spanish classes, and quickly learned to read and understand those languages, and although I can no longer speak them due to lack of practice, I can still read some German and can usually understand or at least get the gist of written Spanish. I also studied Russian and Italian on my own, and can still read a little of the latter. The three times I lived in northern Canada, I learned basic Inuktitut, some Cree, and a little Chipewyan, and had no trouble learning those. Even today, almost twenty years later, I can often read and understand what my Inuit friends are saying in Inuktitut on Facebook, although I have forgotten most of the language for speaking. (Just last month, for example, I was part of a conversation about walrus meat.) When I was in China I learned enough Mandarin in six weeks to be able to go shopping, order in restaurants, ask directions, read maps and street signs, and (most importantly!) find the restrooms. About a year and a half ago I began doing volunteer work for my church, where I answer the questions that people send in to the main church website. I found that my language experience was very useful, as I am able to understand the questions asked in many languages, and using a translation program, am able to respond in French, Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian, Italian and German. More importantly, perhaps, I am usually able to tell when the machine translation is poorly done, meaning that I have to tweak the answer in English so that it makes sense in the other language.

But Sinhala? Boy. This language just does not stick with me. I have tried phrase books. I have tried several 'Learn Sinhalese' textbooks. I have tried just looking up random words in the dictionary to get me started. Even the text that Steve swears by has been of no use to me...I have read and reread and studied chapter one a dozen times, and every time, it's like I have never seen the words before.

It's been most frustrating.

What is weird about the whole thing is that I have daily conversations with our driver, with him speaking Sinhala and me speaking English. I understand at least the gist, and sometimes more than that, of the sermons and lessons at church. Usually I can join in the conversation (again, in English while they speak Sinhala interspersed with a little English) in the weekly women's meeting.

I have managed, however, to learn a (very) few words. Mostly food related, but hey, at this point I'll take whatever I can get!

So I was pleasantly surprised when I went shopping today and had my first real conversation.

It went like this:

Me: Do you have any batteries?

Clerk: Oh. [Yes]

Me: (shows package of lithium batteries) This kind?

Clerk: (gets package and puts it on the counter) Oh.

Me: How much?

Clerk: 750 rupees.

Me: (raises eyebrows) Okay. (points to package) batteriyah ekak tunsiyah [One battery 300]

Clerk: (waggles head in the decidedly South Asian style that indicates agreement)

Me: mama tunay packages [I (need) three packages]

Clerk: 1800 rupees

Me: But 750 times 3 is 2250 rupees.

Clerk: I know. (smiles and winks at me) But you pay 1800 only.

A savings of 450 rupees for trying a few words in Sinhala. I was pretty pleased with myself.

2015 March 5: River Baths

On March 5 Elanor and I went on a road trip with the Relief Society, the women's group in my church, to a place called Kithulgala, a small town in the heart of the wet zone rain forest in western Sri Lanka. 

It is where the movie ‘Bridge on the River Kwai’ was filmed. 

It is also famous for its white water rafting...

...and is a popular place for Sri Lankans to take a bath.

Most houses here, the ones in larger towns and cities anyway, have a shower in the bathroom. But in the smaller villages, especially in very rural and traditional areas, there is no indoor plumbing. It's common to see wells and the Sri Lankan form of outhouse. It's also common to see semi-circular enclosures in yards, about five feet high, where people clean themselves using a large tub of water. Instead of getting into the water, you dip some out, get yourself wet, lather up, then use more water to rinse off. This keeps the water in the tub clean for the next person to use.

Which is why river baths are so popular.

We met at the church as the sun rose...

and over the next hour as we waited for some late comers and our bus, I was able to snap some great bird pics of a red-wattled lapwing who was confusedly fishing in a rainy puddle in the paved church parking lot,...

a white throated kingfisher sitting in one of the oldest trees in Negombo - at over 150 years old, it was saved when our church was built on the lot just a few years ago,...

 and this pond heron sitting on some wires.

I also saw house crows, koels, common mynas, cattle egrets, cormorants, barn swallows, great egrets, pale bellied flowerpeckers, purple rumped sunbirds and rock doves as we waited.

Finally, at about 7:20 we were ready to go, with breakfast, lunch, and an overfull bus load of women, children, and three men. With members spread from outside Negombo all the way to Chilaw, we also stopped along the way to pick up a few more people. As we passed by the airport, I saw a hawk circling overhead, and lesser whistling ducks swimming in the airport pond.

After we passed through Nittambuwa, we stopped at a little roadside pull-off for breakfast - spicy onions and fresh bread. Most women had brought their own recipe of the onions, so there was a lot of comparing of notes as each was sampled. We had a wonderful view of cattle and water buffalo in the fields below, and could see the branches of the trees swinging as monkeys hopped about.

A white-breasted drongo watched as we ate. 

After a few more hours, we arrived at Kithulgala.

We had a great time splashing about in the water, especially Elanor.

Then, time to relax as we listened to groups of men and boys playing instruments and singing in the middle of the river, on little islands, and on the shore.

After everyone had finished playing in the water and soaping up from head to toe before rinsing off, we headed back to our bus for some lunch, a pot luck of all sorts of Sri Lankan food. As it was a holiday, we ate in the shade on the steps of some nearby stores.

Completely refreshed, we began the long ride back to Negombo. Things were going wonderfully, and after about two hours we stopped to stretch our legs. I watched a little cricket being played. 

Then joined everyone in the shade of some trees, where we played a trivia game and had some snacks. Pretty soon, we saw this purple leaf monkey watching us from the nearby roof. 

And then it started to rain. When I say rain, I mean downpour. The skies opened and everything was drenched. I'm told it was a pre-rainy season rain. (You can see what I mean if you click on the coloured letters here.) We scrambled back into the bus and headed west again. Pretty soon, the rain had stopped and the roads had dried, so we were making good time despite the many road construction projects we passed.

That is, until we got a flat tire.

And like many things here, we discovered some problems - our bus had a spare tire, but no tools to remove the original tire and replace it with the new one, or a jack to lift the bus so that the tire could be replaced in the first place.

Thankfully, there was another bus stopped nearby, so our driver went to borrow their tools.

They didn't have any either.

Nor did the bus or the motorcycle or the car that stopped.

Finally, after several trips to houses we had passed and many conversations with passersby, the correct tools were found, and the flat could be changed.

In the meantime, the children had some fun playing in the nearby sandpit. 

And the women enjoyed the spectacular sunset. 

Until it started to pour again.

With only one home nearby, the owner generously allowed an entire over-packed bus load of women and children to take shelter under his carport and the eaves of his house. Lightening flashed and thunder boomed directly overhead, as rain fell in sheets so thick you could not see the field just beyond the modest home.

As soon as our driver had finished changing the tire - the poor man changed the tire in the middle of this storm - we ran in small groups back to the bus, between flashes of lightening, and quickly boarded, eager to be on our way. A few more hours, and we arrived back in Negombo.

Exhausted. Hungry. Sun burnt.

And feeling completely satisfied with such a wonderful day.

2015 March 2-3: Our Resident Palm Squirrel is Mad

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

Our resident palm squirrel is mad.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

I mean, really mad.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

He has been making this noise since about 5am, right about the time the local mosque started calling its faithful to prayer.

Hayya'alas-ṣalāh

I'm not saying there is a connection. Our koel started calling about the same time, as he does every morning.

taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

A new voice enters the fray...

WEEKa WEEKa WEEKa

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

A few cars pass by but something is missing from the usual morning noise of Cemetery Road. Ah! I have it - there are no construction sounds.

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

The dogs start barking.

Arf arf arf.         Arf.

And the crows begin their morning serenade.

Caaaw caaaw.   Caw caw caw.

taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT

Chirp chirp chirp chirp chirp!

 taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT taLOOT

Arf arf arf.         Arf.

WEEKa WEEKa WEEKa

The songbirds join in, and our myna imitates the dogs.

They all seem to be out of sorts this morning, probably due to the torrential rain last night.

Elanor and I had gone to our chapel for a movie night with our congregation. (If you have not seen the movie Baptists at Our BBQ, I highly recommend that you do!) There was a light mist in the air as we left, but by the time we got to Sebastian Road, it was raining. From Sebastian Road to Beach Road a light rain continued to fall. Unlike home, no one here moved. The streets were lined with people standing or sitting around in lawn chairs enjoying the cool rain after a brutally hot and humid day. So hot and humid that it was impossible to tell whether you were sweating or condensing.

By the time we turned down the street that takes us to the alley that takes us to our road, it was torrential. In an instant, the heavens let loose and the streets were flooded. Even inside our tuktuk with the curtains drawn, we were soaked.

By the time we got home, our yard was a lake, our patio stones flooded, our red clay tile roof streaming waterfalls.

We fell asleep to the thunderous crash of lightening, the calling of geckos, the screaming of bats.

Clang clang clang.

It appears the construction workers have returned, several hours later than usual. Normally they work through the cool of evening, into the wee hours of the morning, then begin again as the sun comes up, leaving during the hottest part of the afternoon.

The squirrel has stopped. His world is right again.

2015 February 19: A Rare Perfect Day. Or, Jesus Got Our Number.

Ever have one of those rare almost-perfect days when everything seems to be going just right? when every care seems to melt away? where everything in the universe seems to perfectly aligned, for a few brief hours?

That was us today.

Steve and I awoke to a glorious gorgeous dawn.

We saw several species of birds while sitting on our top floor veranda waiting for Elanor to awake, and I was able to get this picture of a grey heron. Birds in flight are often difficult with my camera, as the shutter speed is too slow, so I was pleasantly surprised to see this.

We watched three coucals feeding behind the vacant lot next door, and I was finally able to get a fairly decent picture, something I have been trying to do since we arrived last Saturday.

At breakfast, one of the hotel workers offered to take our picture for us.

We began looking for a house, and Steve ran off to follow up on a lead given to him by the District leadership of our church here in Sri Lanka. A little while later, he came rushing into the hotel room, and very excitedly told us to come with him - the tuktuk driver was waiting to take us to the house he had looked at. Two exhausting but rewarding hours later, we had made an agreement to rent this house, a new luxury dwelling on Cemetery Road here in Negombo, close to shopping, groceries, the beach, church, restaurants, and downtown, for a very reasonable price. (More to follow when we get moved in.)

After our marathon two hour housing ordeal this morning, Elanor and I waited inside the open air lobby of our hotel while Steve paid our oh-so-patient tuktuk driver for all of the running around and waiting we had asked of him. We were chatting with the desk clerks when we heard Steve's raised voice say, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you!" Uh oh, we thought. This did not sound good.

It turned out that Steve had offered him 100 rupees (78 cents) for his hours of work. Not wanting to insult Steve, our driver, named Jesus (pronounced with a 'j', not an 'h' sound like the Spanish), with clear disappointment in his voice, said, "I thought I would get at least 300 ($2.34)." Steve became flustered and couldn't think of the words he wanted to say in the sun addled state we were in - while the days start off at a 'cool' 25 or so degrees, the temperatures rapidly climb - and finally resorted to shoving a 1000 rupee note ($7.81) towards him while saying that he he misspoke, that he meant a thousand not a hundred and wasn't trying to insult him. Jesus protested that it was too much, and finally they got it sorted out between the two of them.

Pleased with ourselves for finding somewhere to live, we thought we would get some lunch and check out a nearby marshland for some bird watching. Jesus, our tuktuk driver from the morning, came to see if we needed to go anywhere. Now that he knows we are not trying to cheat him - plenty of tourists try to get the cheapest rates they can from some of the poorest people in the country - he was eager to help us, and gave Steve his number. He knows where our new place is, so we will likely be seeing him again and calling him if we need to take a tuktuk a longer distance.

We walked south along our street to Sha Indian Restaurant, where we had a simple lunch of rice and curried chickpeas - Elanor had shrimp, which she has learned to eat Asian style with shell and all intact. The servers were marveling over our binoculars - a luxury item in many poorer places - and were excitedly taking turns while we ate our meal. This was a second story restaurant which overlooked a garden full of trees across the street. More excellent bird pictures followed, as well as observations of just how these birds feed.

We continued south, looking for a tour company that arranges boat tours of the marshlands that we are interested in seeing. We didn't find it, but did find ourselves on the beach where Steve spent much of his time when he was here previously. (More about that later, too.) More great pictures, such as this one of a big yellow crab.

Back to the hotel for a couple of hours of rest in the blazing heat of the day. And then we went to the beach, intent upon taking a cool dip. As Elanor and I walked down the pathway, I got distracted by this Pond Heron.

Elanor ran ahead as Steve and I stopped to talk to some of our new Tamil speaking Muslim fishermen friends. Yesterday when Steve was in Colombo, they approached me at the nearby taembili (King coconut) stand, asking, 'Where is your husband, the one who speaks our language?" They were happy to see him and talk to him in Tamil. Steve glanced to where Elanor was standing near the water and then suddenly exclaimed, "There's one!" and took off running. I followed, perplexed at what was going on.

Well, while Steve and I were attempting to find out where the nomadic snake charmers he is here to study actually are, Elanor was happily talking to one of them and playing with his pet monkey! A long discussion and introductions ensued, Steve received all sorts of valuable information, an invitation to visit, and assurances that he would be quite welcome to learn whatever he wanted to from them.

We then went for an hour-long ride in a traditional outrigger fishing boat with our fishermen friends. We paid them, of course, but you know you are being accepted by a people when they start kidding around with you and joking in their language!

A sunset swim in the sunlit waters of the warm Indian Ocean was the perfect ending to such a rare day as this. May there be many more.

Celebrities

Ever wonder what it feels like to be a celebrity? Today, we found out just what that feels like!

The former Negombo chapel where Steve attended - 12 members the first time he went there in 2000.

Fourteen years ago while studying a dialect of Tamil spoken by the Catholic fishermen of Negombo, Steve attended church here with a very small group of people. He came to love them and they loved him back. Many of them are still friends with him these many years later. And so, today, he anxiously returned to church with these never-forgotten friends, with Elanor and me in tow.

The new Negombo chapel, completed in 2010 - currently housing between 500 and 600 members.

And what a reception it was! There were hugs, there were kisses, there were handshakes, there were pats on the back, there were tears, there were smiles, as word spread throughout the building that Bonta had returned and people came running to greet him. He was given a king's welcome by these wonderful people that he holds so dear.

As the wife of their great friend, I was also warmly welcomed and greeted with the traditional pressing of cheeks, enveloping hugs from the women, and hearty handshakes from the men. One of the men very enthusiastically told me, "You deserve many congratulations for being Steve's wife!" And as I sat in my Sunday School class, I could hear a growing murmur that eventually stopped the lesson until it died down again, as pointing fingers and head nods and whispers of "Bonta's wife! Bonta's wife!" announced my presence to everyone in the room. The excited outpouring of mutual esteem between Steve and his old friends and their families and even the people he had never met but who had heard of him from the others was honestly like nothing I have witnessed before.

I attended Sunday School in Sinhalese, with some explanations of the discussions being provided in English. But, one of my talents is being able to understand, even if only in small and simple ways, what others are saying when they speak in other languages, and this experience was no different. Between the anglicized words found in Sinhala, the scripture references, the study guide, and the brief explanations of what others were saying, I had no trouble following the gist of the lesson after just a few minutes, and then helped an older woman visiting Sri Lanka from Finland to follow the gist of the lesson as well. She, by her own admission, does not speak English very well, but between the sections I was pointing out to her in my English language scriptures, the very simple summaries of what the teacher said, and some pantomime, she was also able to follow the lesson. She and her husband came here to meet a girl whose schooling they have sponsored since she was young. This young woman is about to graduate from university in Europe, and they came to celebrate this tremendous accomplishment with her.

Elanor experienced some culture shock as the day passed by. We told her that we were guests in this country, and that as guests, we needed to make sure that we respect the language, culture, and customs of the people here. Part of this includes her attending her Sunday School (Primary) classes in Sinhala, not English. We want her to learn some Sinhalese while we are here. She is a little anxious about that, but I explained to her that we believe she can do it. After all, her step-sister Amber learned Inuktitut when she and I lived among the Inuit for two years in northern Canada, and there is no reason why she can't do the same here in Sri Lanka.

After church we were treated to lunch by one of Steve's closest friends here at a roadside open air restaurant usually frequented by locals found not far from the chapel. Served family style and all-you-can-eat, we feasted on basmati rice, curried manioc, onion pickle, jackfruit mash, thin noodles with carrots, a grilled mackerel-like fish with spiced gravy, barbecue chicken, and tiny dried fish with coconut shreds. Total cost? 1108 Sri Lankan rupees - about $8.65 total for all four of us.

Sri Lanka is, in many respects, a third-world country. There is a lot of garbage everywhere you look. Mangy dogs roam free. Street vendors and small sidewalk boutiques line every available space in some places. We paid less than a dollar for the same adaptor we could have bought at Walmart back home for $12. Our hotel costs about $35 per night. Yesterday our tuktuk driver spent close to an hour taking us to downtown Negombo so we could buy adaptors, fruit, and anti-histamines for Elanor, and it cost us 600 rupees - $4.70. A beggar came into our church today looking for 10 rupees - 7 cents - to buy rice.

But don't let any of the above fool you. These people are generous and kind and good-hearted. They are modest, well-kept, and dress well - skirts and blouses or dresses or traditional attire for the women, dress shirts and slacks or wraps and well-shined shoes for the men. Even the few locals that we have seen wearing our typical Western leisure clothing look nothing like Westerners do in Western clothing - nothing is dirty, frayed, offensive, immodest, baggy. At the beach last night there were throngs and throngs of people of all ages enjoying the sand, the ocean, the beachside Valentine's Day concert / political rally, with nary a bikini in sight. The only immodestly dressed people we saw were two European men wearing speedos, one American woman wearing a one piece swimsuit that would be considered completely modest back home, and two fisherman who stripped to their underwear and dove into the warm waves to clean away the results of their day's labours before they headed home.

And their spirit is unquenchable. We met a woman at church today with the brightest smile, the most loving eyes, the most welcoming words...and yet her story is one that would have broken most people. She was originally from the south of Sri Lanka, but came to Negombo after the 2004 tsunami as a refugee. For three months she looked for her youngest son, who had been washed out to sea by those terrible waves. For three months this mother never gave up hope. And when she finally began to despair of ever seeing her son again, she found some church members here in Negombo who told her to keep having faith and helped her to look for him. And, beyond all miracles, she found him. She had been a devout Buddhist her entire life, but became a member of our church after experiencing the love and care and compassion and help of the members here. In her words, "For everyone around the world, tsunamis are terrible problems. But for me, our tsunami was a blessing, a wonderful blessing in my life, because it brought me here, where I could be with these good people." A man whom Steve has known for a long time here grew up as the son of the leader of another church here in Sri Lanka. He had been granted a full scholarship to study medicine at one of the best medical schools in India, but gave it all up to be here with these members.

As I heard life story after life story - all told with cheerful faces with no regrets - it struck me that while we were given the royal treatment, these people were the real celebrities. Celebrities inspire awe and humility in us, a desire to want what they have and to be like them. If I can learn to be half as joyful, half as hopeful, half as optimistic as these good people, I will consider myself to be very blessed indeed.

**********************************************

A few more sights from today....

No idea what kind of tree this flower grows on, but each flower lasts for only one day before it falls to the ground with a loud whump that is audible from our balcony three stories above!

  Yellow billed babbler

Cattle egrets