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 18: Whoa! That's Not the Sort of Thing You Want to Find in Your Bathroom!

Our home, like many Sri Lankan homes, has become the abode of many and assorted creatures. In a place where no house is completely sealed to the outside elements due to slatted window spaces for airflow and the need to air out houses daily in order to keep the insides from mildewing, it's just a fact of life.

We have had our share of winged creatures. Butterflies drift through. All sorts of flies - damsel flies, houseflies, gnats. Mosquitoes, the bane of mine and Elanor's existence. Despite mosquito coils, mosquito screens in the bedrooms, mosquito nets over the beds, Elanor and I still awake with mosquito bites every morning. Yesterday a tuktuk driver in Colombo saw Elanor's legs and told us about a product called soffel which is supposed to keep mosquitoes away. It is on our list of items to find today.

Beetles have also made their way through. Yesterday we had a scarab beetle trudging along the floor until Steve put it outside. Beetles are his thing, not mine. He loves beetles. That's why he and his best friend Sam have a collection of about 35 000 of them from all over the world. You can read about some of Sam's beetles adventures here.

Spiders are common as well. There is a species here that I am calling a ghost spider, for lack of a better name. So transparent you barely see them, with tiny bodies and long legs. Most of the time I only know they are there as I see them scurrying away from the morning's dust pile as I sweep the floor. We love watching the jumping spiders. Completely harmless - to us! - but they sure make quick work of other insects.

Geckos are also plentiful. Last night Elanor had the tiniest one I have seen yet crawling down her wall. While I was cooking supper another ran along the wall in front of me. Every night we fall asleep to the click click click sounds that they make. Surprisingly loud for such little creatures. We love them. Sri Lankans have a love-hate relationship with them. They love them because they eat all the bugs. They hate them because they can get into your food and they do poop on your walls.

Ants also come and go. We had harmless big black ants one day, but I just swept away their trail as they went out the door and they haven't been back. There are also tiny little red ants. They mostly leave us alone, unless we are in the shower. And they are surprisingly strong. Elanor and I watched a dozen of them carrying a bite of pancake that she had dropped, all twelve tiny ants moving in perfect unison to carry away their prize.

There is a palm squirrel that thinks he owns the place. We think he lives in the roof in the two feet of space between the red tile shingles on the outside and the wooden slats on the inside. The same palm squirrel that tried to move into the spare bedroom one day.

Our yard is slowly becoming populated as well. A koel spends part of every day in one of our trees now. I am not sure which wakes me in the morning - the koel calling or the local mosque! He also starts telling us about 4:30 every evening that the day is done.

Sometimes creatures show up in the bathrooms, Elanor's bathroom especially, since it is on the ground floor. Geckos are common, as are ants, mosquitoes, gnats, beetles, damsel flies, as she chooses to keep her bathroom light on so she "doesn't have to turn it off and on all the time" despite both Steve and I frequently telling her that she is attracting insects by doing so. Like many ten year olds, she knows best and her parents could not possibly know what they are talking about.

And so, a few nights ago, she took a shower, then came into her bedroom where I was sitting in the A/C and working, and said, "Uh, Mom? Something skinny and black just went under my shirt that's on the floor." Note: We have also been telling her that she shouldn't leave things on the floor.

I looked at her said, "I don't have anything to do with skinny black things in bathrooms. That's Dad's area! Go tell him!"

Steve went into her bathroom, and the next thing I hear is "Whoa! That's not the sort of thing you want to find in your bathroom!"

I don't know about you, but that's not the sort of thing I want to hear. Ever.

Apparently one of these things - or one very similar to it - crawled out of Elanor's drain, across her floor, and eventually into a crack in the wall.

Courtesy http://franmart.blogspot.com/2011/09/golden-moths-peas-and-other-delights.html

It was a centipede. A scolopendra, for those interested in knowing the scientific name. These (not so) lovely creatures can get up to 30 cm (1 ft) long in the tropics. The big ones can take out rats and bats, and their bites can be very painful, though not fatal.

That is not very comforting, though, when reading the experiences of Chulie de Silva on her blog. She writes: "The pain was sharp, excruciating, just below the elbow.  This must be the pain that precedes a heart attack  says my sleepy mind and  if so might as well die in the comfy bed – why get up?  Coming out of deep layers of slumber I wait for the heart attack that shows no sign of coming."

But don't kid yourself - they are found in smaller varieties all over the world. In Newfoundland we call them 'earwigs', and we were cautioned by adults to steer clear. With good cause - even the small ones can deliver a painful poisonous bite.

I never wanted to find these in my bathroom back home.

And I really don't want to find them in my bathroom here!

I get the heebie jeebies just thinking about it. As I said, Steve is the bug guy, not me!

2015 March 16: Global Sri Lanka

Sri Lanka finds itself in a strangely awkward position.

Life for many people is still very much conducted in third world conditions. Little or no indoor plumbing. Low wages. Menial jobs. Small houses with poor planning and little knowledge of basic things we take for granted, such as traps to keep sewer gas out of the house. I passed a cement block home on the main tourist street, Lewis Place, early one morning, that had its door open. There was a small clay oven against the wall outside, an outhouse in the backyard, and only one room in the house. It had a wooden chair against one wall and a pile of blankets in the corner.

Oddly, though, the average family only has two children, not the three to seven children that one would expect in such conditions given the average fertility rates in other similar countries. Family planning is very much in effect here. One woman we know told us that while she and her husband love their children, they will not have more than two because they are very expensive. She didn't mean to raise. She meant in case they get sick and needed medical attention. One trip to the doctor can cost 3000 rupees - 1/7 of the average monthly income. Thankfully, most pharmacies here do not require prescriptions. You show up, tell them what's wrong, and they give you the medication for it at a very reasonable rate. Or, if you are like me, you take a picture of your husband's heat rash and show that to the guy behind the counter, who then gives you the cream your husband needs for 200 rupees ($1.53).

Yet, for others, life is good. Very good. Hotel owners that we know paid $65 000 cash for a luxury car recently - 8.5 million rupees, or 32 years salary for the average worker. The gap between rich and poor is so wide that ordinary people are being shut out of their ordinary neighbourhoods, as land prices are on the rise exponentially in popular areas like Negombo.

Sri Lankans in general are very well-educated. According to wikipedia, "Education in Sri Lanka has a long history that dates back two millennia. The Constitution of Sri Lanka provides for education as a fundamental right. Sri Lanka's population has a literacy rate of 98.1%, higher than that expected for a third world country; it has the highest literacy rate in South Asia and overall, one of the highest literacy rates in Asia. Education plays a major part in the life and culture of the country and dates back to 543 BC." Girls have a slightly higher literacy rate than boys.

This focus on education has led to many Sri Lankans looking for work overseas. The Middle East is a popular option, as is Australia, Malaysia, and France. They are even finding their way to Newfoundland. This is in addition to the many people who left Sri Lanka during the civil war. Many of those who leave are the most educated.

And this has led to many Sri Lankan families becoming truly global citizens. One friend of ours has several children, all of whom live overseas. To visit them, he has traveled to Switzerland, France, Canada, the United States, Australia and Malaysia. Some of his grandchildren he can speak to - they don't know Sinhala, but they do know English. Other grandchildren he cannot speak to without a translator, because they speak French or another language as their mother tongue. But he, like many others who find themselves in similar situations, do not begrudge this one bit. They are happy that their children are happy, their grandchildren are happy, and that they were able to help their children rise to a level of success that would likely not have been possible here.

Even businesses reflect the diverse international community. Drive down any major street in Colombo, the capital city, and there are billboards and signs advertising jobs abroad and language classes in Japanese, Chinese, German, English, and a host of others. Chinese, Japanese, Italian, and Indian restaurants abound, North American chains such as Pizza Hut and KFC and Burger King are easily found. There are even restaurants that serve Swiss and German fare!

Steve receives many compliments on his ability to speak Sinhalese and Tamil. One tuktuk driver actually stopped the vehicle, turned around, and exclaimed "You're Sri Lankan?" when Steve gave him directions one day. Some Tamil fishermen we met on the beach near the hotel we stayed at for the first week we were here often greet me with "Where is your husband, the man who speaks our language?" if I run into them without Steve.

But it's different in Colombo. One tuktuk driver asked Steve why he was bothering to learn Sinhalese since it's not an important language. The answer is simple. Sinhala is an important language. While Old English was just getting started around 550 A.D., Sinhala had already been around for almost a thousand years, with a rich literary history that influenced the development of Buddhism, now with over 300 million followers around the world. While the Western world was floundering in the dark ages, Sri Lanka was famous as the "rice mill of the east" and was trading cinnamon globally.

And so, we come full circle to the awkward situation that Sri Lanka finds itself in, this strange mix of keeping long held traditions and culture alive, while moving forward and working its way out of third world status. This is why the government is pro-Chinese waterfront development, why it is involved in so many infrastructure projects to rebuild roads and town services, and why it is against huge Australian casinos being built here.

Sri Lanka deserves more credit for what it is doing right from the global community. Perhaps then it would not find itself in the strangely awkward position it is in.

2015 February 20: Muthurajawela – The Marsh of the King's Pearls

Friday was our first real bird watching outing. We went to Muthurajawela Marsh, a 6000 hectare wetland at the south end of the Negombo lagoon. Relatively unknown by tourists until the 2012 edition of the Lonely Planet Sri Lanka Guide, it is becoming a popular tourist attraction, and is currently rated as the #4 (out of seventeen) must-see Negombo attractions on TripAdvisor.com.

Before the Portuguese arrived in Sri Lanka in the early 1500s, the area was a rich basin filled with rice paddies. The Portuguese constructed a canal - now called the Hamilton Canal - that ultimately flooded the fields with seawater, and over the ensuing centuries, the basin has become Sri Lanka's largest saline wetland, home to many different species, including one hundred ninety-four plants, forty fish, fourteen reptiles, one hundred two birds, twenty-two mammals, forty-eight butterflies, and twenty-two dragonflies. Of these, fifty-two species are on the nationally endangered list, and one - the Grey Slender Loris – is on the globally endangered list.

"Slender Loris" by Kalyan Varma (Kalyanvarma) - Own work. Licensed under GFDL 1.2 via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Slender_Loris.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Slender_Loris.jpg

Despite the importance of the Marsh with respect to biodiversity, there is constant pressure on the wetland from encroaching industrial development, prompting a study of the economic potential of the area in 2003.

We traveled by tuktuk through the non-tourist side of Negombo, an area with many traditional homes interspersed with grand luxury houses probably owned by wealthier fishermen and businessmen. We passed by the fish market, reminiscent of my childhood home....the smell of salt water in the air, seabirds wheeling and diving for savoury bits of rejected offal, the revoltingly comfortable odour of fish left too long in the blazing sun, the call of fishermen comparing their catch, the quick hand movements as nets are repaired.

Steve spots all four species of egrets of as we make our way through the port, then grey herons and a Eurasian spoonbill.

We arrive at the Visitor's Centre, described by more than one guide book and travel site as “moth-eaten” or worse. While a little rundown, it basically houses posters of some of the more common flora and fauna that one is likely to see. For a mere 1000 rupees per person ($7.81 US) we enjoy the cool shade of the visitor's centre, its restrooms, conversation with three centre personnel, a personal guide for our boat ride through the marsh, a boat operator, and the two hour ride itself.

The tour begins in front of the visitor's centre, where we spied white-breasted waterhens on the road,

and an Indian robin drinking from the Canal and then preening in the branches of a tree hanging over the water. That little bird can certainly shake a tail feather or two!

Rose-winged parakeets and Indian mynas fly overhead, and in the trees we can hear a coucal calling. A brown-headed barbet flies past. A juvenile Brahminy kite sits in a tree. 

We spot it a few seconds after we pass chasing a rose-winged parakeet. The parakeet flees and escapes – good news for the parakeet, but the kite is still hungry.

Barn swallows and long-billed sunbirds and blue-tailed bee eaters are everywhere. Pale billed flowerpeckers eat the seeds of the Penjamic tree and drink from the flowers of the parasitic plants that grow on it.

The ever present crows – both Jungle or Long-Billed and the House variety – are present but in small numbers. We see a total of five, in sharp contrast to the flocks of thousands that fly south along Negombo's beaches every evening.

A white-bellied drongo watches us motor underneath the bare branch upon which it sits, its deeply forked tail pointing the way we must follow along the canal. Poisonous Eve's Apple trees - also know as the Forbidden Fruit - are abundant. A bright red dragonfly hurries to join a horde of hundreds that flits through the forest. 

Our guide turns the boat around and we head back the way we came. There on the concrete bank of the canal lies a two or three month old crocodile, basking in the warm sun. 

Our guide tells us to watch the holes along the muddy banks. 

There! We see them! White breasted kingfishers leaving their cool earthen nests. 

Striated herons and cormorants and red-wattled lapwings watch our progress from their front row seating on the shore. 

Steve spots a crimson flameback woodpecker and a spotted dove. 

Our guide becomes excited. There, on the antenna of a house under construction on the left bank of the canal we have spied a rarity for this area – an Indian roller. It watches us carefully as we approach, flits away as we draw near, then returns to its perch. 

We approach the mouth of the canal where it enters into the lagoon. Whiskered terns feed on a school of fish directly in front of us.

Little egrets and intermediate egrets join the many terns feeding in the shallow waters.

We drift close to a tuft of vegetation to see purple sea holly up close. Traditionally it is used to treat asthma and rheumatism.

Wait! What's that? Steve and our guide start frantically flipping through our bird book while I catch a few seconds glimpse of a mottled yellow and brown bird before it dives into the plants and can no longer be seen. It's a yellow bittern, somewhat common in the marsh but rarely seen due to its habit of hiding and seclusion.

Ahead – fishermen spreading their nets in a lotus patch. We watch as two of them wade through the water, setting the net in a semi-circular shape. Two others wade towards the net, pushing leafy palm fronds ahead of them. As the school of little fish enters the net, the first two walk towards each other, trapping the fish inside.

Lesser whistling ducks watch carefully nearby. 

Among the weeds, purple swamp hens and a lone moor hen join the ducks.

As we approach the mangrove swamp, pond herons, purple herons and little cormorants make their appearance. 

Acrostica ferns grow in large mounds throughout this side of the Marsh. The tender leaves can be eaten and are considered to be good for treating diabetes. 

A darter, rare for the marsh, makes it appearance. A white-bellied sea eagle soars overhead. Our guide is excited once more – they are very hard to find in the marsh, due to a spectacle which we observe just a few moments later - two Brahminy kites drive the eagle away. 

Water hyacinth abounds. In old times, water hyacinth was a weapon, with the people using it to trick their enemies. When the enemy alighted, ready to fight on what they thought was dry land, they sank and drowned, entangled in the long roots. Once found only along marshy shorelines, as in Florida this beautiful but invasive plant is spreading rapidly through the marsh and other wetland areas, choking out indigenous species. The Sri Lankan government has passed an ordinance requiring landowners to destroy the plant if it shows up on their property, and for conservation officers to do the same on government owned or communal land. It has also introduced an African beetle that feeds only on the water hyacinth to help curtail its spread. 

Surrounded by dozens of whiskered terns, we approach the entrance to the canal once more. A greater egret soars by. In the distance, we spot an open billed stork, another rare bird in the marsh.

We wind our way through the canal. A stork-billed kingfisher displays its brilliant blues and yellows.

Two Oriental magpie-robins watch from an overhead wire. A rare forest wagtail flits by.

On the bank we see a small monitor lizard atop a recently burnt garbage heap, scrounging for food, not minding the heat of the coals underfoot. Another attacks a bag of garbage in the river. A dead one is spotted near the shore. 

Back to the Visitor's Centre, where a young guide excitedly surveys our list, identifying the species that are rare and rare to the marsh. Our meager entrance fee helps pay his salary and that of the others, basic upkeep on the building, boat maintenance, gas.

One last sighting – Steve spots two lowly rock doves.

Back we go in our little three-wheeled tuktuk, through the port, along the sleepy streets of the real Negombo, back to the fast pace of Lewis Place, that tourist hot spot where we are currently staying.

2015 February 16: The Long Road to Chilaw

Map courtesy Google Maps.

The Negombo Bus Station. The clamour of drivers hawking the virtues of their particular routes. No orderly lines and ticket counters here - in fact, there are no lines or ticket counters period. We study the rows of brightly coloured buses in all shapes and sizes, find one that is going to Chilaw, and board. There are no timetables or schedules - when the bus is full, it leaves. No matter...all day long another is waiting to take its place. The assistant passes by, asking for end locations and accepting payments....three people traveling 51 kilometres (31 miles) is just 177 rupees ($1.38 US). As people disembark en route, the driver's assistant loudly calls 'ilaw ilaw ilaw ilaw' (short for Chilaw) to the passing throngs of people, trying to refill the bus and maximize his profits on this trip.

The road is lined with street vendors of all sorts, everything one could imagine available as we pass by....pastries, candy, fruit, shots of liquor, t-shirts, dresses, shoes, kitchen strainers, vegetables, water, pets, farm animals....

Nainamadama....a town filled with tiles factories, with their hot kilns and mounds of clay ready to be made into roofing tiles and bricks.

We pass the Coconut Research Institute, a very important and prestigious government department, with its acres and acres of coconut plantations, many of them doubling as cow pastures as they attempt to maximize the use of the land.

Cathedrals, Catholic schools, shrines, white robed nuns, uniformed school children line the entire length of this Catholic corridor, and everywhere, everywhere are leftover signs welcoming the Holy Father, Pope Francis, who visited Sri Lanka in January of this year. With 1.2 million Catholics in the country, this made worldwide news, as did the mass that was celebrated in Colombo, the capital city, with some estimates of over one million attendees.

Marawila....waiting for more riders, the intoxicating fragrance of row upon row of bakeshops fills the senses, a sharp contrast to the sweetly acrid and smoky air in Nainamadama.

To our right....ancient tanks or wevas (reservoirs), constructed up to 1700 years ago, filled with waterfowl, yellow lilies, pink lotus flowers - part of an irrigation system envisioned by King Parakrama Bahu the Great (1153-1186), who declared "Let not even a drop of rain water go to the sea without benefiting man."

To our left....mile upon mile of rice paddies and marshes, resplendent with myriad types of fowl, including three kinds of egret surrounding the cows peacefully grazing.

Madampe....vast coconut plantations, canals filled with pampas grass, fences lined with sweet smelling jasmine, Hindu temples, Buddhist stupa, shrines to the Horse God, the Roman Catholic Church of San Sebastian, a mosque complete with Ladies Prayer Room and women's clothing store pass quietly by.

Sewer construction causes a small traffic jam as motorists and pedestrians of all sorts attempt to get through. No careful city planning and pipe placement here...to build one's sewer line simply dig a trench from one's house to the sidewalk, line it with concrete blocks, lift the concrete pavers covering the sewer ditch and hope it slopes properly. Then, replace the concrete paver to turn the ditch into a sidewalk again. Block traffic while doing so.

The Madampe Bus Station....just a widened part of the road at a vacant lot where people gather to wait for their bus. We wait for more passengers. In a nearby storefront I spy women's blouses for 350 rupees ($2.74), men's dress shirts for 295 rupees ($2.30), complete children's outfits for 150 rupees ($1.17). A group of white uniformed giggling schoolgirls flee when Steve catches them staring wide-eyed at his huge scary American self. 

Fully loaded once more, we return to the main road, passing vendors lining the fence outside a brightly painted blue Hindu temple surrounded by coconut groves.

Kakkapalliya....40 kilometres (24.5 miles) into our journey. An odd building that looks like a viking boat complete with Chinese dragon head and a door where the mouth should be gives us pause...it's called the Bum Boat. Mynas, egrets, and cormorants line the canal.

Chilaw at last. The driver's assistant finds a bus for us to a well known Hindu temple in Musseswaram, found in the Tamil Region. We are one day early for for the Shiva festival Sivarathri, but it cannot be helped - we have to be in Colombo tomorrow. We buy fruit for an offering - it being a Hindu temple we feel this is okay as the money goes towards feeding the poor, the offering is to be eaten by us afterwards, and Hindus believe in the sanctity of all religions and all gods/Gods. Our guide is delighted to hear Steve speaking Tamil, gives us a personal tour, explains the ceremony and the temple's shrines to us.

The many faces of Shiva, "Great God".

Sariswati, the Hindu goddess of knowledge, wisdom, arts, music       and learning.

Our guide.

Afterwards Steve quickly makes friends with two of the men and a woman at the stand to buy fruit for offerings. As Tamils, they were very impressed that Steve had been to Tamilnadu and many of the shrines found in the parts of India that he has visited.

As our host takes us to meet his friend, a tuktuk driver who can take us back to Chilaw, others call out insults in Sinhala. He quickly chastises them, "They speak Sinhala so you better watch your mouth", with a shake of his head and a dismissive gesture of the hand. His friend agrees to take us back to Chilaw and stops several times along the way so we can do a little bird watching, and when asked, takes us to an eatery that he knows of, Wadiya Restaurant.

A huge flying fox colony.

 Water buffalo and sacred ibises.

Open billed stork.

After a delightful meal of curried dal, beetroot salad, green onion salad, hot okra, rice for the three of us, and spicy fish and devilled prawns for Steve and Elanor (1100 rupees or $8.60, including three litre size bottles of water, and one small bottle of water), the quality of which was no doubt aided by the owners' surprise to hear Steve speaking Sinhalese to him, we head back to the bus station for our return journey.

Past the cows wandering the side streets of Chilaw, past the rural areas just to the south with the numerous Serene Gardens Coconut Plantations, past the rice paddies with their red-wattled lapwings, past Marawila's beautiful rivers and furniture carvers and egrets and bee eaters, past the storefronts and street vendors and beautiful houses and tropical gardens of Katunariya, Wennapuwa, Nainamadama, Waikkala, and Kochchikade....

Back to Negombo.

 Fishermen in the late afternoon.

A murder of crows at breakfast.