minus the punctuation, the actual name of a cake/pastry I saw in a bakery here
Guess what? We're not in Jaffna.
Argh, argh... after a long day of errands and pleasant hedonism in Colombo (bus-ticket wrangling, embassy whatwhat, minor crucial shopping, movie/beer/cheetos/swim at pool) we were finally at the departure place and time. Half an hour before the bus leaves we hear there's been a hartal (general strike) called for Jaffna.
Oh no! We asked lots of people, through several communications media, what was up. What, then? A hartal today and tomorrow. After some agonizing (I'll spare the details; painful enough for me to rehash) we decided it was a bad idea to start a trip with possibly two days of staying inside. I almost cried, after all the insanity with the trishaw and meeting up and so on. Today I found out that the hartal was cancelled after all and we should have gone.
These kinds of no-win situations (especially when hidnsight is involved) make me really upset. I can't distinguish between intractable/hard choices and things that are my fault. Sometimes can put on a brave face, but often it just wears me out and I need to get rid of excess bad energy somehow: cry, yell, etc. I question my levels of risk-aversion and control-taking, and I alternately feel worryingly fraidycattish or virtuously responsible. Ah well; left to my own devices I make some stupid choices and some wise ones. This one, of course much driven by Jill's and Lisa's desires, looked wise but with later information was stupid, if not stupid.
Anyway I had a good sleep last night, which I wouldn't have gotten on the bus. Today I've been watching TV (so entrancing!) and reading Melville and being happy with good conversation. Also having a stomachache. I should write some about the process of understanding reality as meaningful--i.e., is it wise to continually believe that things happen for a reason?--which has been a major topic lately what with the whole several-iterations-of-blockage-to-travel experience. But now I'm going to go out.