I had a clever title all worked out
but now I've forgotten it. What to do?
Am in a hurry to get some lunch and get some work done, but hopefully tonight I can get the computer up and running and on the net. Hopefully, I say, because it will take hope and perhaps prayer and probably cursing too to get the thing going. (Yester-afternoon I tried and for my efforts got a zap from the wall socket. Aiyo!)
But: I have a home! I even slept there! It has hot water and a phone and a decent kitchen (although no propane quite yet) with a biggish fridge and a 2-burner cooker and cupboards and things. My "business-minded" landlady gave me kitchen things--one each cup, saucer, big glass, small glass, plate, bowl, side plate, pot, pan, knife. Therefore I'm engaged in the fun task of shopping for housewares. Today I scored a fancy computer protector (UPS), some speakers, some plastic thingies for keeping ants out of the biscuits and sugar, a cutting board. Yesterday I spent about 40 minutes buying groceries and had a small saga of trying to get a trishaw in the rain to take me home with my passel of stuff. I spent Rs.3500 for about six bags of stuff--that's ridiculous, I know.
You all can now call me, for real!
home: (oo-94) o81-447-5523
mobile: (00-94) 077-311-5531
or write, c/o ICES Kandy, 554/6A Peradeniya Rd, Kandy, Sri Lanka
Anyway. Off to work.
10.28.2004
10.24.2004
Hedonism in the Big City
This is my first attempt at writing an entry from my computer at home and uploading it off disk at the internet café. With any luck the formatting won’t be insane.
After many errands and adventures enroute, Jill and I made it to Colombo on Wednesday. Notably I was met at the train in Kandy twenty minutes before it left by my mobile-phone agent (who is an assistant professor at Peradeniya; shows you how well they are paid) on a motorcycle with my new phone. He promptly zoomed off to get the connection chip for the phone and returned, as promised, ten minutes later and ten minutes before we departed, phone in hand. Of course the phone doesn’t work yet—that would be too easy!—but it’s nice to have it, look at it, whatever.
The trains here run very much on time, at least vis-à-vis departures. It’s one of the few left-over British things. Well, there’s a lot of left-over British things, but most of those have been adopted and changed to a remarkable degree, whereas the trains’ timeliness is nothing less than shocking in a country where, for example, “I will be back in my office after lunch” can mean “I will be back in my office the next day which is technically after lunch today”.
The train itself is pretty pleasant, especially in first class where they don’t sell “open” tickets and therefore there isn’t a whole passel of folks standing up in the aisles. When the train pulls into the station to load up (about an hour before it is leaving generally!) all the people in third class run, jump, and shove their way into the cars, because they are the least likely to get seats. Then you sit on the platform and wait and wait and buy little cups of Nescafe and packets of biscuits from the guy trundling a cart up and down the platform. It’s tiring, even though one is sitting down.
Colombo is generally tiring. The only way I can explain how expats and rich people live a jet-setting kind of life is that they have cars and drivers and always go from one clean, posh, air-conditioned place to another. When I am in Colombo I am generally hot, dirty, and wilting from the combination. I catch glimpses of myself in shiny surfaces and think, who is that frazzled girl?
This time Jill and I agreed that in the interests of getting-things-done efficiently and not feeling totally rushed all the time (ha), we would forgo the elaborate process of walking and taking buses to save money and just take trishaws whenever necessary. This proved expensive by Sri Lankan standards but cheap by the standards of, say, the New York City subway system. It’s sobering to think that for the price of a ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan you can get from Kandy to Colombo in first class. Trishaws are relatively expensive—Rs.150 for rides of a moderate length—but oh so handy.
We did many important errands, including going to the Fulbright Commission to get mah money. I never got my first month’s check, which means I’ve been making it on the settling-in allowance, which is less than a month’s pay, and I’ve spent less than half of it. We also ran into our pal Bill, who is a Senior Fulby English professor. He’s working in the middle of nowhere and has had a hard time so far—they keep asking him to teach a class with about half an hour’s notice, and stuff like that. He is incredibly good natured and funny and smart about it though, so I can see him being really happy once the bullshit gets sorted out.
We also went to the Embassy to check out the commissary store, where they sell all kinds of American foods and stuff that it’s hard to get here. The store is cute and vaguely pathetic—neat little rows of Jello and Tide, you know—but enticing at moments. They have Ghirardelli chocolate chips and four kinds of mustard (French’s, something else yellow, Grey Poupon in a squeeze bottle, Grey Poupon in a jar) and totally tax-free booze. 1-litre bottles of Tanqueray for $10. You have to pay to join the store, so Jill and I gave it a pass. We were going to be schlepping around all day anyway. Judy and Yvonne have joined already and promised to get me some Grey at some point…
The purpose of the Embassy trip was really to VOTE! It was anticlimactic but very bureaucratic; many little forms and envelopes to stick’n’seal and slips of paper. I hope desperately that the vote is far enough towards Kerry that they never even think of opening the absentee ballots (they don’t unless the volume of such ballots could possibly swing the state). We made it into the diplomatic pouch by about an hour. The consular section folks were extremely pleasant and chatty. You get this funny perspective on “Americans” when the only Americans you see are academics and diplomats; everyone is so friendly, and helpful, and interested in what you’re doing. The State Department certainly has the right people overseas…
After Business came Pleasure, which basically amounted to a lot of good old Colombo shopping. I made an appointment for a haircut at the poshest salon (or so I hear) in town: Fin(o)men-aL. I can’t really do it justice because the name is supposed to be covered with weird diacritical markings and the letters are not supposed to be in line with each other. Anyway before doing that we went from Crescat Boulevard (super posh mall) to Odel Unlimited (super posh old-school ‘department’ style store) and shopped in the cheap section. Odel is where you get the Banana Republic linen pants for $9, which I did. Their store is a wacky paradise of fancy stuff; a Lush store, a sushi bar, a Delifrance, handicrafts, eveningwear, designer labels, Western beauty products… and… a gelateria. Jill and I bought a monster takeout styrofoam container of gelato and, pleasure of pleasures, took it to the Embassy pool complex.
There we met Jeremy, who had finally purchased a floor lamp for his house and was lugging it around proudly. We swam and ate gelato from the container. We tried to feed some to the ambassador and his wife, who were there a'swimmin' as is their habit in the early evening. I went off for my (severe, artistic) haircut.
The haircut deserves a long entry all it's own but as I'm finishing this one up in the net-cafe itself I'll abstain for the moment. Suffice it to say that it was the most elaborate haircutting process ever and I have almost no hair anymore. I like it. After the haircut I met J&J for a fancy Indian dinner at our boss's favorite restaurant. Friday we dashed around, back to the Commission, to Barefoot (chichi fabric and housewares and clothing store) for shopping and falafel lunch, then off to the train...
...where we had not bought tickets for the express and so had to w-a-i-t in the heat and dirt for the next one. We finally got back to Kandy at 8:15 and I fell asleep in Jill's bed waiting for Judy and Yvonne to get home so I could go 'home' to their house. I dragged myself over there at 10 or so.
Saturday we slept late, made Bisquick pancakes, and spent the afternoon at Le Kandyan, a fancy hotel atop a mountain near Dangolla. Big buffet lunch, a quick swim as it was thunderstorming and we darted between bouts of rain, tea, relaxing with books, ogling the underdressed tourists. (And how!) What else could be more fun?
AND! Before I finish up--I have decided on an apartment. It's not all settled yet, but it will be tomorrow. It's 1-br, lovely with huge verandah and nice kitchen. All ye who are coming to visit, fear not; it is across the street from a nice cheap hotel and I am also getting a spare bed to stick in the living room. The kitchen and verandah more than make up for the non-having of a guest room. Besides, I'm going to move in February to a 2-br place. So come on down. (Up, if you're in Colombo.)
Oh, and my non-working cell phone is 077-311-5531. Country code is 94. Don't call until I say so. Then call. Often.
This is my first attempt at writing an entry from my computer at home and uploading it off disk at the internet café. With any luck the formatting won’t be insane.
After many errands and adventures enroute, Jill and I made it to Colombo on Wednesday. Notably I was met at the train in Kandy twenty minutes before it left by my mobile-phone agent (who is an assistant professor at Peradeniya; shows you how well they are paid) on a motorcycle with my new phone. He promptly zoomed off to get the connection chip for the phone and returned, as promised, ten minutes later and ten minutes before we departed, phone in hand. Of course the phone doesn’t work yet—that would be too easy!—but it’s nice to have it, look at it, whatever.
The trains here run very much on time, at least vis-à-vis departures. It’s one of the few left-over British things. Well, there’s a lot of left-over British things, but most of those have been adopted and changed to a remarkable degree, whereas the trains’ timeliness is nothing less than shocking in a country where, for example, “I will be back in my office after lunch” can mean “I will be back in my office the next day which is technically after lunch today”.
The train itself is pretty pleasant, especially in first class where they don’t sell “open” tickets and therefore there isn’t a whole passel of folks standing up in the aisles. When the train pulls into the station to load up (about an hour before it is leaving generally!) all the people in third class run, jump, and shove their way into the cars, because they are the least likely to get seats. Then you sit on the platform and wait and wait and buy little cups of Nescafe and packets of biscuits from the guy trundling a cart up and down the platform. It’s tiring, even though one is sitting down.
Colombo is generally tiring. The only way I can explain how expats and rich people live a jet-setting kind of life is that they have cars and drivers and always go from one clean, posh, air-conditioned place to another. When I am in Colombo I am generally hot, dirty, and wilting from the combination. I catch glimpses of myself in shiny surfaces and think, who is that frazzled girl?
This time Jill and I agreed that in the interests of getting-things-done efficiently and not feeling totally rushed all the time (ha), we would forgo the elaborate process of walking and taking buses to save money and just take trishaws whenever necessary. This proved expensive by Sri Lankan standards but cheap by the standards of, say, the New York City subway system. It’s sobering to think that for the price of a ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan you can get from Kandy to Colombo in first class. Trishaws are relatively expensive—Rs.150 for rides of a moderate length—but oh so handy.
We did many important errands, including going to the Fulbright Commission to get mah money. I never got my first month’s check, which means I’ve been making it on the settling-in allowance, which is less than a month’s pay, and I’ve spent less than half of it. We also ran into our pal Bill, who is a Senior Fulby English professor. He’s working in the middle of nowhere and has had a hard time so far—they keep asking him to teach a class with about half an hour’s notice, and stuff like that. He is incredibly good natured and funny and smart about it though, so I can see him being really happy once the bullshit gets sorted out.
We also went to the Embassy to check out the commissary store, where they sell all kinds of American foods and stuff that it’s hard to get here. The store is cute and vaguely pathetic—neat little rows of Jello and Tide, you know—but enticing at moments. They have Ghirardelli chocolate chips and four kinds of mustard (French’s, something else yellow, Grey Poupon in a squeeze bottle, Grey Poupon in a jar) and totally tax-free booze. 1-litre bottles of Tanqueray for $10. You have to pay to join the store, so Jill and I gave it a pass. We were going to be schlepping around all day anyway. Judy and Yvonne have joined already and promised to get me some Grey at some point…
The purpose of the Embassy trip was really to VOTE! It was anticlimactic but very bureaucratic; many little forms and envelopes to stick’n’seal and slips of paper. I hope desperately that the vote is far enough towards Kerry that they never even think of opening the absentee ballots (they don’t unless the volume of such ballots could possibly swing the state). We made it into the diplomatic pouch by about an hour. The consular section folks were extremely pleasant and chatty. You get this funny perspective on “Americans” when the only Americans you see are academics and diplomats; everyone is so friendly, and helpful, and interested in what you’re doing. The State Department certainly has the right people overseas…
After Business came Pleasure, which basically amounted to a lot of good old Colombo shopping. I made an appointment for a haircut at the poshest salon (or so I hear) in town: Fin(o)men-aL. I can’t really do it justice because the name is supposed to be covered with weird diacritical markings and the letters are not supposed to be in line with each other. Anyway before doing that we went from Crescat Boulevard (super posh mall) to Odel Unlimited (super posh old-school ‘department’ style store) and shopped in the cheap section. Odel is where you get the Banana Republic linen pants for $9, which I did. Their store is a wacky paradise of fancy stuff; a Lush store, a sushi bar, a Delifrance, handicrafts, eveningwear, designer labels, Western beauty products… and… a gelateria. Jill and I bought a monster takeout styrofoam container of gelato and, pleasure of pleasures, took it to the Embassy pool complex.
There we met Jeremy, who had finally purchased a floor lamp for his house and was lugging it around proudly. We swam and ate gelato from the container. We tried to feed some to the ambassador and his wife, who were there a'swimmin' as is their habit in the early evening. I went off for my (severe, artistic) haircut.
The haircut deserves a long entry all it's own but as I'm finishing this one up in the net-cafe itself I'll abstain for the moment. Suffice it to say that it was the most elaborate haircutting process ever and I have almost no hair anymore. I like it. After the haircut I met J&J for a fancy Indian dinner at our boss's favorite restaurant. Friday we dashed around, back to the Commission, to Barefoot (chichi fabric and housewares and clothing store) for shopping and falafel lunch, then off to the train...
...where we had not bought tickets for the express and so had to w-a-i-t in the heat and dirt for the next one. We finally got back to Kandy at 8:15 and I fell asleep in Jill's bed waiting for Judy and Yvonne to get home so I could go 'home' to their house. I dragged myself over there at 10 or so.
Saturday we slept late, made Bisquick pancakes, and spent the afternoon at Le Kandyan, a fancy hotel atop a mountain near Dangolla. Big buffet lunch, a quick swim as it was thunderstorming and we darted between bouts of rain, tea, relaxing with books, ogling the underdressed tourists. (And how!) What else could be more fun?
AND! Before I finish up--I have decided on an apartment. It's not all settled yet, but it will be tomorrow. It's 1-br, lovely with huge verandah and nice kitchen. All ye who are coming to visit, fear not; it is across the street from a nice cheap hotel and I am also getting a spare bed to stick in the living room. The kitchen and verandah more than make up for the non-having of a guest room. Besides, I'm going to move in February to a 2-br place. So come on down. (Up, if you're in Colombo.)
Oh, and my non-working cell phone is 077-311-5531. Country code is 94. Don't call until I say so. Then call. Often.
10.19.2004
Untreated sinus phlegm may result in obstructed Norse
Dire warnings for Scandinavians from the Kandy Herbal Ayurveda Centre. Take care, Norse! You too, Swedes! Actually I think the Norse are in town... I saw a busload of incredibly inappropriately dressed people going up the road to this one fancy resort area. I am embarrassed to be white when I see people in town behaving improperly... walking around smoking (not something you do on the street), wearing tight or scant clothing, putting on socks to wear inside temple grounds, eating babies, etc. Then I am reassured because they are definitely getting SO ripped off by every tout they see. They deserve it! As Jill put it, "it's not like Lonely Planet doesn't tell you to wear some damn sleeves!"
No really, I am so Lankan. I stare at sudda holding hands. I goggle at their spiffy camcorders and weirdly rugged sandals. Didn't they get the memo about flipflops?
On the poetic side: one of the things I had forgotten about is how Dangolla sounds in the morning. It's like a hearing a distant sports match--you hear thousands of birds cheering, crying, cawing, cock-a-doodle-doo-ing, and crak-crak-crak-ing; cows mooing and their bells klonking; buzzing whines of motors of all sizes (and all levels of disrepair) from many echoey hills; shouts of children on their ways to school; and then birds again. It's the everyday Super Bowl of Kandy. You hear it even as the mists from the previous night's rain have yet to burn off and the valleys and steeps are veiled in cloud. As the blue sky becomes more visible and midday heat bears down, the noise quiets--children in school, traffic slowed, birds eating or sleeping or whatever it is that they do during the day. Cows blocking the roads.
Anyway. Annexes: went back to see a favorite. It badly needs cleaning and has no phone or hot water (mercy!) but is still a frontrunner for location and space. However, when I say "badly needs cleaning" I am talking about worse than the Barn. As in, the spiderweb in the bathroom is a work worthy of preservation as an nth Wonder of the World; the kitchen has bizarre streaks of something on the walls; the curtains look like they're from the reign of the last Kandya king (ie early 19th century, for those who are keeping track). Aiyo. The phone is what bothers me, though... however the landlady promists that I can use her lawyer-daughter's computer for internet. I am skeptical. But, as we say here, what to do? I suppose in the long run hot water is really more desirable.
I did however have a nice time seeing an old friend who runs the best jewelry shop in town. He used to host for the ISLE program. He gives students great prices on beautiful stuff and is going to introduce me to the wedding-manager of the Queens Hotel (the poshest hotel in Kandy) and also try to garner me an invitation to the biggest society wedding of the year--which will be in December or January. The daughter of the Maliban biscuit/cracker company owners is marrying a foreigner. (This is like Chelsea Clinton or Paris Hilton or Suzy Q. Nabisco getting hitched in terms of social importance.) He is also going to introduce me to the island's most posh gown-designer. I think I am going to sign myself up to be a model so I can have an excuse to meet these people.
I am only partially kidding about modeling. I wonder if they would have me... I need a haircut.
I saw also a tiny, tiny, adorable puppy on the road today. It followed me and for about 25 yards I seriously thought about taking it "home" with me or picking it up another time and having a puppy in my life. It is very hard to see all the street animals that are suffering, especially the cute baby ones. The dirty annexe does have a dog with pups living upstairs! Bonus bonus. The dog however is named "Dinky" which explains why she's having a crisis of self; she wants to lick/bite/climb up any person she sees.
Dire warnings for Scandinavians from the Kandy Herbal Ayurveda Centre. Take care, Norse! You too, Swedes! Actually I think the Norse are in town... I saw a busload of incredibly inappropriately dressed people going up the road to this one fancy resort area. I am embarrassed to be white when I see people in town behaving improperly... walking around smoking (not something you do on the street), wearing tight or scant clothing, putting on socks to wear inside temple grounds, eating babies, etc. Then I am reassured because they are definitely getting SO ripped off by every tout they see. They deserve it! As Jill put it, "it's not like Lonely Planet doesn't tell you to wear some damn sleeves!"
No really, I am so Lankan. I stare at sudda holding hands. I goggle at their spiffy camcorders and weirdly rugged sandals. Didn't they get the memo about flipflops?
On the poetic side: one of the things I had forgotten about is how Dangolla sounds in the morning. It's like a hearing a distant sports match--you hear thousands of birds cheering, crying, cawing, cock-a-doodle-doo-ing, and crak-crak-crak-ing; cows mooing and their bells klonking; buzzing whines of motors of all sizes (and all levels of disrepair) from many echoey hills; shouts of children on their ways to school; and then birds again. It's the everyday Super Bowl of Kandy. You hear it even as the mists from the previous night's rain have yet to burn off and the valleys and steeps are veiled in cloud. As the blue sky becomes more visible and midday heat bears down, the noise quiets--children in school, traffic slowed, birds eating or sleeping or whatever it is that they do during the day. Cows blocking the roads.
Anyway. Annexes: went back to see a favorite. It badly needs cleaning and has no phone or hot water (mercy!) but is still a frontrunner for location and space. However, when I say "badly needs cleaning" I am talking about worse than the Barn. As in, the spiderweb in the bathroom is a work worthy of preservation as an nth Wonder of the World; the kitchen has bizarre streaks of something on the walls; the curtains look like they're from the reign of the last Kandya king (ie early 19th century, for those who are keeping track). Aiyo. The phone is what bothers me, though... however the landlady promists that I can use her lawyer-daughter's computer for internet. I am skeptical. But, as we say here, what to do? I suppose in the long run hot water is really more desirable.
I did however have a nice time seeing an old friend who runs the best jewelry shop in town. He used to host for the ISLE program. He gives students great prices on beautiful stuff and is going to introduce me to the wedding-manager of the Queens Hotel (the poshest hotel in Kandy) and also try to garner me an invitation to the biggest society wedding of the year--which will be in December or January. The daughter of the Maliban biscuit/cracker company owners is marrying a foreigner. (This is like Chelsea Clinton or Paris Hilton or Suzy Q. Nabisco getting hitched in terms of social importance.) He is also going to introduce me to the island's most posh gown-designer. I think I am going to sign myself up to be a model so I can have an excuse to meet these people.
I am only partially kidding about modeling. I wonder if they would have me... I need a haircut.
I saw also a tiny, tiny, adorable puppy on the road today. It followed me and for about 25 yards I seriously thought about taking it "home" with me or picking it up another time and having a puppy in my life. It is very hard to see all the street animals that are suffering, especially the cute baby ones. The dirty annexe does have a dog with pups living upstairs! Bonus bonus. The dog however is named "Dinky" which explains why she's having a crisis of self; she wants to lick/bite/climb up any person she sees.
10.18.2004
Urgent!
cc: Sri Lankan Trishaw Drivers
bcc: Sidewalk Salesguys
from: Irate Whitey Girl
Look, folks, I just want to help you in your business methodology. I am certainly a consumer of many goods and services provided by you and your class of individuals. I enjoy shopping and riding in tuk-tuks very much! However, this business of solicitation has got to stop.
No, really: if I want something, I will ask for it.
It is not helpful when every trishaw driver in a whole line of you asks me, "taxi, ma'am?"! You see, if I said no to the first guy, chances are that I am not tired enough to want a ride once I have walked five yards further! I am not comparison shopping!
It is especially unhelpful (and in fact off-putting) when every single one of you says "hello! hello!" in an effort, I presume, to gain my attention. I will not be wakened from some bizarre reverie and suddenly realize I am in dire need of a ride. I am somewhat aware of my surroundings and cognizant of the distance I have left to walk. If that distance is dismaying, I will seek assistance, do not worry.
And you there on the sidewalk, with the fabric/toys/knives/safety pins/scrub brushes/bric-a-brac, I am in fact capable of seeing what you are holding. You don't have to yell what you have. You don't have to waggle it at me--do I look sorely in need of an orange plastic toy baby that winds up and swims?
All y'all--seriously, "I don't want it" means "go the hell away," not "please convince me because I am only saying no over the price".
Many thanks!
ps--if you are holding five or six different things, mostly of decent value, like two necklaces, a knife, a teapot, and a walkman, I know you stole them. Shame on you.
cc: Sri Lankan Trishaw Drivers
bcc: Sidewalk Salesguys
from: Irate Whitey Girl
Look, folks, I just want to help you in your business methodology. I am certainly a consumer of many goods and services provided by you and your class of individuals. I enjoy shopping and riding in tuk-tuks very much! However, this business of solicitation has got to stop.
No, really: if I want something, I will ask for it.
It is not helpful when every trishaw driver in a whole line of you asks me, "taxi, ma'am?"! You see, if I said no to the first guy, chances are that I am not tired enough to want a ride once I have walked five yards further! I am not comparison shopping!
It is especially unhelpful (and in fact off-putting) when every single one of you says "hello! hello!" in an effort, I presume, to gain my attention. I will not be wakened from some bizarre reverie and suddenly realize I am in dire need of a ride. I am somewhat aware of my surroundings and cognizant of the distance I have left to walk. If that distance is dismaying, I will seek assistance, do not worry.
And you there on the sidewalk, with the fabric/toys/knives/safety pins/scrub brushes/bric-a-brac, I am in fact capable of seeing what you are holding. You don't have to yell what you have. You don't have to waggle it at me--do I look sorely in need of an orange plastic toy baby that winds up and swims?
All y'all--seriously, "I don't want it" means "go the hell away," not "please convince me because I am only saying no over the price".
Many thanks!
ps--if you are holding five or six different things, mostly of decent value, like two necklaces, a knife, a teapot, and a walkman, I know you stole them. Shame on you.
10.16.2004
Mage Address Eka
please, write me a letter or something, y'all.
is there a y'all? (i count three regular readers. if there are more than that, let me know.)
Rebecca Ennen
c/o ICES, Kandy
554/6A Peradeniya Rd.
Kandy
Sri Lanka
saw five more annexes today. i am going to pull my hair out by the roots: one was hella far (over 15km!) and one was someone's house (and therefore huge and full of stuff), and one was dark, menacing, and unfurnished, one was small, far, and taken during April, and the Only Acceptable Nice One has no phone. (and no furniture, but the landlords promise to "put some things.") at this point i'm moving to the house of Judy-Yvonne-Mina, the Senior Fulbright Family down the street from my hotel, because it cost fucking Rs.7,000 to stay in the hotel for a week. they are being very nice and sharing their place with me.
tomorrow i will try to chill out a bit--maybe an afternoon of hedonism is wanted, with perhaps a massage or a swim or something. it makes me cry to think that that's the only way for me to relax. i did have a good time with Yvonne (2), my Tamil friend who teaches at a Montessori school here and is looking for an apartment. she is getting married in January and wants a place for herself and husband. but things are pissing me off. i have been patient long enough.
please, write me a letter or something, y'all.
is there a y'all? (i count three regular readers. if there are more than that, let me know.)
Rebecca Ennen
c/o ICES, Kandy
554/6A Peradeniya Rd.
Kandy
Sri Lanka
saw five more annexes today. i am going to pull my hair out by the roots: one was hella far (over 15km!) and one was someone's house (and therefore huge and full of stuff), and one was dark, menacing, and unfurnished, one was small, far, and taken during April, and the Only Acceptable Nice One has no phone. (and no furniture, but the landlords promise to "put some things.") at this point i'm moving to the house of Judy-Yvonne-Mina, the Senior Fulbright Family down the street from my hotel, because it cost fucking Rs.7,000 to stay in the hotel for a week. they are being very nice and sharing their place with me.
tomorrow i will try to chill out a bit--maybe an afternoon of hedonism is wanted, with perhaps a massage or a swim or something. it makes me cry to think that that's the only way for me to relax. i did have a good time with Yvonne (2), my Tamil friend who teaches at a Montessori school here and is looking for an apartment. she is getting married in January and wants a place for herself and husband. but things are pissing me off. i have been patient long enough.
10.15.2004
Miss Adventures
it's now Friday. last i posted, it was Tuesday. progress report: no phone, more mosquito bites, one wedding invitation, one wedding missed, six more annexes visited, no more annexes settled upon or moved into. plus, i got attacked by mean dogs and locked out of my hotel one night. plus, that one lovely annexe is actually taken from March onwards. curses!
i'm having this sense of 'how am i going to keep myself busy for nine months?' ...all this unstructured time is really, really daunting and i'm supposed to be doing fieldwork and all. it's hard to do fieldwork when you're shy and nobody likes you. (kidding, mostly.)
the mean-dogs story is pretty funny. i was walking down to Kandytown (as we call it) from Aniwatte/Asgiriya area, through random paddy-fields and villages on a shortcut explained to me by the landlady of the nice but far-off and unfindable (#17 should be between 15 and 19, right? wrong!) annexe there. incidentally, it was really strange how the views of the valley from the road were far nicer than the views from the house!
anyway, i'm walking through this very poor village area, and looking for a flight of stairs that will cut through to the main road, when some dogs start barking. dogs here are trained to bark at strangers so people will know if someone's come around--mostly they don't bite or attack. but i'm walking up a steep flight of stairs made of old tires filled with sand, no wider than that, and some dogs start coming out of the bushes at the sides, and out of peoples' yards, barking-barking-barking and coming at my ankles with TEETH OUT. usually you can just menace them with a stone or a bag but one of them i gave a good zetz (Yiddish, "smack") with the bag and yelled at them to GET AWAY. the owners came running out and called off the dogs and sort of laughed at me. i was really shaken up and had to hyperventilate a bit to get the old shakes out of my legs. when i got to town i had a nice drink at The Pub (the Only pub) in Kandy to calm down.
it was a non-alcoholic drink, [un?]fortunately, as i then ran into the lovely-annexe owner. she is, as my amma put it, "extremely business-minded," a description which has been echoed by every adult who knows her in Dangolla. she's pushy, at least. we took the bus to near Dangolla and a trishaw up the hill and the whole way she's bugging me about when i'going to move in, why am i looking at other places, etc etc. She did promise lower rent--Rs.12,000 instead of 14. i have three places to see tomorrow but my resistance is wearing down.
oh, and then i ran away from my hotel because it was full of SL Army guys drinking beer and arrack, and stayed at Jill's house too late and got locked out. that sucked. (had to walk past a bunch of dogs too!)
random observation: everyone in Sri Lanka except my tailor friend Nalini hates my haircut--even my former ISLE professors. i keep hearing: why did you cut it? you had beautiful hair! o, what i wouldn't give for a few days in a culture with a little more value placed on privacy.
i should stop whining and find a house, no? i am generally okay but suffering, i think, from too long at sea (as it were). you out there--i miss you. a lot.
it's now Friday. last i posted, it was Tuesday. progress report: no phone, more mosquito bites, one wedding invitation, one wedding missed, six more annexes visited, no more annexes settled upon or moved into. plus, i got attacked by mean dogs and locked out of my hotel one night. plus, that one lovely annexe is actually taken from March onwards. curses!
i'm having this sense of 'how am i going to keep myself busy for nine months?' ...all this unstructured time is really, really daunting and i'm supposed to be doing fieldwork and all. it's hard to do fieldwork when you're shy and nobody likes you. (kidding, mostly.)
the mean-dogs story is pretty funny. i was walking down to Kandytown (as we call it) from Aniwatte/Asgiriya area, through random paddy-fields and villages on a shortcut explained to me by the landlady of the nice but far-off and unfindable (#17 should be between 15 and 19, right? wrong!) annexe there. incidentally, it was really strange how the views of the valley from the road were far nicer than the views from the house!
anyway, i'm walking through this very poor village area, and looking for a flight of stairs that will cut through to the main road, when some dogs start barking. dogs here are trained to bark at strangers so people will know if someone's come around--mostly they don't bite or attack. but i'm walking up a steep flight of stairs made of old tires filled with sand, no wider than that, and some dogs start coming out of the bushes at the sides, and out of peoples' yards, barking-barking-barking and coming at my ankles with TEETH OUT. usually you can just menace them with a stone or a bag but one of them i gave a good zetz (Yiddish, "smack") with the bag and yelled at them to GET AWAY. the owners came running out and called off the dogs and sort of laughed at me. i was really shaken up and had to hyperventilate a bit to get the old shakes out of my legs. when i got to town i had a nice drink at The Pub (the Only pub) in Kandy to calm down.
it was a non-alcoholic drink, [un?]fortunately, as i then ran into the lovely-annexe owner. she is, as my amma put it, "extremely business-minded," a description which has been echoed by every adult who knows her in Dangolla. she's pushy, at least. we took the bus to near Dangolla and a trishaw up the hill and the whole way she's bugging me about when i'going to move in, why am i looking at other places, etc etc. She did promise lower rent--Rs.12,000 instead of 14. i have three places to see tomorrow but my resistance is wearing down.
oh, and then i ran away from my hotel because it was full of SL Army guys drinking beer and arrack, and stayed at Jill's house too late and got locked out. that sucked. (had to walk past a bunch of dogs too!)
random observation: everyone in Sri Lanka except my tailor friend Nalini hates my haircut--even my former ISLE professors. i keep hearing: why did you cut it? you had beautiful hair! o, what i wouldn't give for a few days in a culture with a little more value placed on privacy.
i should stop whining and find a house, no? i am generally okay but suffering, i think, from too long at sea (as it were). you out there--i miss you. a lot.
10.12.2004
Why I Came to Sri Lanka
or, kottu rotti at the Muslim Hotel
quickly, then: kottu rotti is the best Sri Lankan food there is. it consists of a rotti (flatbread, naan-like) sliced into thin strips and fried with veggies and egg/fish/chicken/whatever. it is peppery and sometimes quite spicy and so, so good.
I had some from my favorite source yesterday: the Muslim Hotel (which means restaurant here) in Kandy, reputed to be "dirty" but actually quite clean if you ignore the floor and the "windows." it's fantastic there--full of scallions and ginger and unnameable spices.
there was also an adorable tiny kitten there, scrounging on the floor. I wanted to pack it up to take home.
then again, I still don't have a home... saw another annexe by chance last night as I ran into the landlady on the road. she previously rented to 2 'brighters, one of whom is Karly, my precedent in everything (she had my family, for one thing). the annexe is beautiful and has a huge verandah with a lovely view, but it's one bedroom only and is right in Dangolla, the town where I lived before and where all the ISLE students are. decisions, decisions.
today I'm at ICES, my host-research-center. they are admirably if overly laid back there; the head (brilliant) librarian is away and won't be back until the 22nd and she usually helps 'brighters get their annexes. ah well...
or, kottu rotti at the Muslim Hotel
quickly, then: kottu rotti is the best Sri Lankan food there is. it consists of a rotti (flatbread, naan-like) sliced into thin strips and fried with veggies and egg/fish/chicken/whatever. it is peppery and sometimes quite spicy and so, so good.
I had some from my favorite source yesterday: the Muslim Hotel (which means restaurant here) in Kandy, reputed to be "dirty" but actually quite clean if you ignore the floor and the "windows." it's fantastic there--full of scallions and ginger and unnameable spices.
there was also an adorable tiny kitten there, scrounging on the floor. I wanted to pack it up to take home.
then again, I still don't have a home... saw another annexe by chance last night as I ran into the landlady on the road. she previously rented to 2 'brighters, one of whom is Karly, my precedent in everything (she had my family, for one thing). the annexe is beautiful and has a huge verandah with a lovely view, but it's one bedroom only and is right in Dangolla, the town where I lived before and where all the ISLE students are. decisions, decisions.
today I'm at ICES, my host-research-center. they are admirably if overly laid back there; the head (brilliant) librarian is away and won't be back until the 22nd and she usually helps 'brighters get their annexes. ah well...
10.11.2004
Notes from a Bureaucracy
nothing is what it seems, you see?
it never before occurred to me that a "bureaucracy" could be a political system in the same way as, e.g., a "democracy." but here it sort of is--to do anything, you need to know someone who knows someone. you can't get a simple solution to a simple problem and everything is indirect.
case in point: getting a cell phone. ("mobile" or "hand phone" here) there are several options on this.
you can go to any little shop/stall where they sell electronics and get a reconditioned (maybe) phone that uses a card system--you put a SIM chip in the back, and buy what is essentially a calling card to use with this phone. you of course can receive calls and send text messages, but you're going to pay outgoing and incoming, and you're going to buy a whole bunch of cards every month--every week if you talk a lot on IDD.
then there's the option of going to a reputable dealer/service point for one of the "package" providers (meaning, you have an account and a bill, the normal way) and buy a phone and a connection that way. but!, do not expect to simply purchase these services and leave the place so easily! if you are a foreigner, you must pay a Rs30,000 deposit on the account. that's about $300, or 3 months' rent, for comparison. supposedly you can get this deposit back at the time you end your service, but Embassy sources relate that they try to keep your deposit any way they can.
the solution: you must find a Lankan who will let you take an account in his name. he (or she, but probably he) will have to give an address and national ID, and show bills or records in his name. your bill will go to this person, so it had better be someone you will see a lot. Jill's plan is to have her "land-family" (what else to call them?) get a phone in their name for her, since her mail will go to them anyway. I, having no land-family yet, am more or less screwed until I get one or cough up Rs30,000, a sum so princely that I am not yet comprehending it.
no matter! it's a beautiful steamy day in the neighborhood. you never feel the heat up in the hills, so you start out thinking that it's cool and breezy today, then descend into town and discover that no, it's hot-hot-hot as always. already today I've seen an annex which I will not be living in unless something drastic happens. it's across the street, literally, from the ISLE center; owned by one of amma's many friends and until recently occupied by her grown son and his family. as a result it was bizarrely furnished--no cooker (stove) or dishes or cupboards, but lots of baby toys and weird souvenirs and posters of cricket players. I told amma that I wanted a place closer to where I'm working. I hope she isn't offended. (most likely, not at all.)
another example of the indirectness of it all: when I asked what the rent was, amma asked me what my allowance (pay) is for rent. I countered that I had heard the going rate for annexes was Rs8000 a month. Amma's friend (the landlady) said that the electricity and water were expensive but Rs8000 was a good rent. I asked whether she wanted me to pay the bills or give her extra for utilities--how much? she warmly replied, no no, I'll take care of the bills, but you'll give some extra. how much? I said, asking both her and amma, thoroughly fed up with the whole bargain-for-rent escapade especially seeing that I wasn't going to take the place, and finally she said Rs10,000 would be good. then we talked about the deposit: three months in advance. and on, and on.
the real estate scene, such as it is, is odd too. it's not a "market" per se, because there is no competition, no price-comparison, no realtors mostly. when I say "the going rate for annexes," I really mean that--any size, any location. since there are WAY more annexes than people to occupy them, they all pretty much cost the same, unless you want a really spiffy place. for example, Jill's amma got her an annex for when she arrived. she moved in her first day in Kandy. she has a tiny annex, with a little kitchen, sitting room, bedroom and bathroom, meagerly but adequately furnished. price: Rs8000, plus utilities, the same as this 2-bedroom, huge-sitting-room place from today. you have to work hard, though, to find a decent landfamily and location. you can't just look in the paper or on craigslist; you have to know someone who knows someone in that area, etc etc.
so obviously, I'm in the throes. that seems to be the state of things with me. soon I'll be living a more settled life but until then it will continue to be throe-y. I was thinking today that yes, I should really get a small manageable place, but then I won't have room for the hordes that will be visiting! (that's you guys!)
oh, and mom--you can "comment" on my posts here by clicking on the hyperlink to "comment." if you want to email me you'll have to email me.
nothing is what it seems, you see?
it never before occurred to me that a "bureaucracy" could be a political system in the same way as, e.g., a "democracy." but here it sort of is--to do anything, you need to know someone who knows someone. you can't get a simple solution to a simple problem and everything is indirect.
case in point: getting a cell phone. ("mobile" or "hand phone" here) there are several options on this.
you can go to any little shop/stall where they sell electronics and get a reconditioned (maybe) phone that uses a card system--you put a SIM chip in the back, and buy what is essentially a calling card to use with this phone. you of course can receive calls and send text messages, but you're going to pay outgoing and incoming, and you're going to buy a whole bunch of cards every month--every week if you talk a lot on IDD.
then there's the option of going to a reputable dealer/service point for one of the "package" providers (meaning, you have an account and a bill, the normal way) and buy a phone and a connection that way. but!, do not expect to simply purchase these services and leave the place so easily! if you are a foreigner, you must pay a Rs30,000 deposit on the account. that's about $300, or 3 months' rent, for comparison. supposedly you can get this deposit back at the time you end your service, but Embassy sources relate that they try to keep your deposit any way they can.
the solution: you must find a Lankan who will let you take an account in his name. he (or she, but probably he) will have to give an address and national ID, and show bills or records in his name. your bill will go to this person, so it had better be someone you will see a lot. Jill's plan is to have her "land-family" (what else to call them?) get a phone in their name for her, since her mail will go to them anyway. I, having no land-family yet, am more or less screwed until I get one or cough up Rs30,000, a sum so princely that I am not yet comprehending it.
no matter! it's a beautiful steamy day in the neighborhood. you never feel the heat up in the hills, so you start out thinking that it's cool and breezy today, then descend into town and discover that no, it's hot-hot-hot as always. already today I've seen an annex which I will not be living in unless something drastic happens. it's across the street, literally, from the ISLE center; owned by one of amma's many friends and until recently occupied by her grown son and his family. as a result it was bizarrely furnished--no cooker (stove) or dishes or cupboards, but lots of baby toys and weird souvenirs and posters of cricket players. I told amma that I wanted a place closer to where I'm working. I hope she isn't offended. (most likely, not at all.)
another example of the indirectness of it all: when I asked what the rent was, amma asked me what my allowance (pay) is for rent. I countered that I had heard the going rate for annexes was Rs8000 a month. Amma's friend (the landlady) said that the electricity and water were expensive but Rs8000 was a good rent. I asked whether she wanted me to pay the bills or give her extra for utilities--how much? she warmly replied, no no, I'll take care of the bills, but you'll give some extra. how much? I said, asking both her and amma, thoroughly fed up with the whole bargain-for-rent escapade especially seeing that I wasn't going to take the place, and finally she said Rs10,000 would be good. then we talked about the deposit: three months in advance. and on, and on.
the real estate scene, such as it is, is odd too. it's not a "market" per se, because there is no competition, no price-comparison, no realtors mostly. when I say "the going rate for annexes," I really mean that--any size, any location. since there are WAY more annexes than people to occupy them, they all pretty much cost the same, unless you want a really spiffy place. for example, Jill's amma got her an annex for when she arrived. she moved in her first day in Kandy. she has a tiny annex, with a little kitchen, sitting room, bedroom and bathroom, meagerly but adequately furnished. price: Rs8000, plus utilities, the same as this 2-bedroom, huge-sitting-room place from today. you have to work hard, though, to find a decent landfamily and location. you can't just look in the paper or on craigslist; you have to know someone who knows someone in that area, etc etc.
so obviously, I'm in the throes. that seems to be the state of things with me. soon I'll be living a more settled life but until then it will continue to be throe-y. I was thinking today that yes, I should really get a small manageable place, but then I won't have room for the hordes that will be visiting! (that's you guys!)
oh, and mom--you can "comment" on my posts here by clicking on the hyperlink to "comment." if you want to email me you'll have to email me.
Notes from a Bureaucracy
nothing is what it seems, you see?
it never before occurred to me that a "bureaucracy" could be a political system in the same way as, e.g., a "democracy." but here it sort of is--to do anything, you need to know someone who knows someone. you can't get a simple solution to a simple problem and everything is indirect.
case in point: getting a cell phone. ("mobile" or "hand phone" here) there are several options on this.
you can go to any little shop/stall where they sell electronics and get a reconditioned (maybe) phone that uses a card system--you put a SIM chip in the back, and buy what is essentially a calling card to use with this phone. you of course can receive calls and send text messages, but you're going to pay outgoing and incoming, and you're going to buy a whole bunch of cards every month--every week if you talk a lot on IDD.
then there's the option of going to a reputable dealer/service point for one of the "package" providers (meaning, you have an account and a bill, the normal way) and buy a phone and a connection that way. but!, do not expect to simply purchase these services and leave the place so easily! if you are a foreigner, you must pay a Rs30,000 deposit on the account. that's about $300, or 3 months' rent, for comparison. supposedly you can get this deposit back at the time you end your service, but Embassy sources relate that they try to keep your deposit any way they can.
the solution: you must find a Lankan who will let you take an account in his name. he (or she, but probably he) will have to give an address and national ID, and show bills or records in his name. your bill will go to this person, so it had better be someone you will see a lot. Jill's plan is to have her "land-family" (what else to call them?) get a phone in their name for her, since her mail will go to them anyway. I, having no land-family yet, am more or less screwed until I get one or cough up Rs30,000, a sum so princely that I am not yet comprehending it.
no matter! it's a beautiful steamy day in the neighborhood. you never feel the heat up in the hills, so you start out thinking that it's cool and breezy today, then descend into town and discover that no, it's hot-hot-hot as always. already today I've seen an annex which I will not be living in unless something drastic happens. it's across the street, literally, from the ISLE center; owned by one of amma's many friends and until recently occupied by her grown son and his family. as a result it was bizarrely furnished--no cooker (stove) or dishes or cupboards, but lots of baby toys and weird souvenirs and posters of cricket players. I told amma that I wanted a place closer to where I'm working. I hope she isn't offended. (most likely, not at all.)
another example of the indirectness of it all: when I asked what the rent was, amma asked me what my allowance (pay) is for rent. I countered that I had heard the going rate for annexes was Rs8000 a month. Amma's friend (the landlady) said that the electricity and water were expensive but Rs8000 was a good rent. I asked whether she wanted me to pay the bills or give her extra for utilities--how much? she warmly replied, no no, I'll take care of the bills, but you'll give some extra. how much? I said, asking both her and amma, thoroughly fed up with the whole bargain-for-rent escapade especially seeing that I wasn't going to take the place, and finally she said Rs10,000 would be good. then we talked about the deposit: three months in advance. and on, and on.
the real estate scene, such as it is, is odd too. it's not a "market" per se, because there is no competition, no price-comparison, no realtors mostly. when I say "the going rate for annexes," I really mean that--any size, any location. since there are WAY more annexes than people to occupy them, they all pretty much cost the same, unless you want a really spiffy place. for example, Jill's amma got her an annex for when she arrived. she moved in her first day in Kandy. she has a tiny annex, with a little kitchen, sitting room, bedroom and bathroom, meagerly but adequately furnished. price: Rs8000, plus utilities, the same as this 2-bedroom, huge-sitting-room place from today. you have to work hard, though, to find a decent landfamily and location. you can't just look in the paper or on craigslist; you have to know someone who knows someone in that area, etc etc.
so obviously, I'm in the throes. that seems to be the state of things with me. soon I'll be living a more settled life but until then it will continue to be throe-y. I was thinking today that yes, I should really get a small manageable place, but then I won't have room for the hordes that will be visiting! (that's you guys!)
oh, and mom--you can "comment" on my posts here by clicking on the hyperlink to "comment." if you want to email me you'll have to email me.
nothing is what it seems, you see?
it never before occurred to me that a "bureaucracy" could be a political system in the same way as, e.g., a "democracy." but here it sort of is--to do anything, you need to know someone who knows someone. you can't get a simple solution to a simple problem and everything is indirect.
case in point: getting a cell phone. ("mobile" or "hand phone" here) there are several options on this.
you can go to any little shop/stall where they sell electronics and get a reconditioned (maybe) phone that uses a card system--you put a SIM chip in the back, and buy what is essentially a calling card to use with this phone. you of course can receive calls and send text messages, but you're going to pay outgoing and incoming, and you're going to buy a whole bunch of cards every month--every week if you talk a lot on IDD.
then there's the option of going to a reputable dealer/service point for one of the "package" providers (meaning, you have an account and a bill, the normal way) and buy a phone and a connection that way. but!, do not expect to simply purchase these services and leave the place so easily! if you are a foreigner, you must pay a Rs30,000 deposit on the account. that's about $300, or 3 months' rent, for comparison. supposedly you can get this deposit back at the time you end your service, but Embassy sources relate that they try to keep your deposit any way they can.
the solution: you must find a Lankan who will let you take an account in his name. he (or she, but probably he) will have to give an address and national ID, and show bills or records in his name. your bill will go to this person, so it had better be someone you will see a lot. Jill's plan is to have her "land-family" (what else to call them?) get a phone in their name for her, since her mail will go to them anyway. I, having no land-family yet, am more or less screwed until I get one or cough up Rs30,000, a sum so princely that I am not yet comprehending it.
no matter! it's a beautiful steamy day in the neighborhood. you never feel the heat up in the hills, so you start out thinking that it's cool and breezy today, then descend into town and discover that no, it's hot-hot-hot as always. already today I've seen an annex which I will not be living in unless something drastic happens. it's across the street, literally, from the ISLE center; owned by one of amma's many friends and until recently occupied by her grown son and his family. as a result it was bizarrely furnished--no cooker (stove) or dishes or cupboards, but lots of baby toys and weird souvenirs and posters of cricket players. I told amma that I wanted a place closer to where I'm working. I hope she isn't offended. (most likely, not at all.)
another example of the indirectness of it all: when I asked what the rent was, amma asked me what my allowance (pay) is for rent. I countered that I had heard the going rate for annexes was Rs8000 a month. Amma's friend (the landlady) said that the electricity and water were expensive but Rs8000 was a good rent. I asked whether she wanted me to pay the bills or give her extra for utilities--how much? she warmly replied, no no, I'll take care of the bills, but you'll give some extra. how much? I said, asking both her and amma, thoroughly fed up with the whole bargain-for-rent escapade especially seeing that I wasn't going to take the place, and finally she said Rs10,000 would be good. then we talked about the deposit: three months in advance. and on, and on.
the real estate scene, such as it is, is odd too. it's not a "market" per se, because there is no competition, no price-comparison, no realtors mostly. when I say "the going rate for annexes," I really mean that--any size, any location. since there are WAY more annexes than people to occupy them, they all pretty much cost the same, unless you want a really spiffy place. for example, Jill's amma got her an annex for when she arrived. she moved in her first day in Kandy. she has a tiny annex, with a little kitchen, sitting room, bedroom and bathroom, meagerly but adequately furnished. price: Rs8000, plus utilities, the same as this 2-bedroom, huge-sitting-room place from today. you have to work hard, though, to find a decent landfamily and location. you can't just look in the paper or on craigslist; you have to know someone who knows someone in that area, etc etc.
so obviously, I'm in the throes. that seems to be the state of things with me. soon I'll be living a more settled life but until then it will continue to be throe-y. I was thinking today that yes, I should really get a small manageable place, but then I won't have room for the hordes that will be visiting! (that's you guys!)
oh, and mom--you can "comment" on my posts here by clicking on the hyperlink to "comment." if you want to email me you'll have to email me.
10.10.2004
Kandy is Dandy
but it's somewhat lonesome too.
Back in the old 'hood today after a stunning (as always) ride up from Colombo with Jeremy, Jill, and Dharmasena. J&J are other 'brighters and Dharmasena is the program driver. We had an awesome time coming up--the views from the road are absolutely gorgeous as you leave the low-lying, paddy-crosshatched fields and jungles of the coastal plain and mount the incredibly steep and forested mountains. Every time I'm struck by how geographically daunting it would have been to any invaders--that's why, I think, the central areas of the island were uncolonized until 1815 while the coasts were overrun with greedy Europeans since long before then.
Anyway... I'm at the good ol' Kandyan Villas ("Kandyan Vistas" according to half their signs), the hotel we all stayed at for about a week back in 2002 when ISLE started. The staff remember me, which is heartening. I'm trying to do things one step at a time and not be all stressed about trying to immediately secure an apartment, a phone, an internet line, a plan for research, a group of friends, a place to exercise, a haircut, and a sense of control. Ha ha.
My plan for the evening: make some mobile-phone inquiries, have dinner with host family, watch movie in bed at hotel. Sleep as long as possible. Chill the hell out tomorrow. (Sunday, yay.)
Yesterday was fabulous, however. The orientation sessions wound up with a bang, provided by the AWESOMEST army dude ever--LTC Rich Girven of the embassy staff here. He gave us this incredible rundown of the US govt's military interests in Sri Lanka, mostly in order that we understand the prejudices Lankans might have. His talk was hilarious (the man has an amazing sense of understatement and wit) and hugely informative; if only more Army guys were this brilliant and perceptive, well, we'd live in a different world.
After that and the rest of the sessions, well, it was time for the embassy pool. Also amazing and wonderful in its own right--a guarded, gated entrance off posh Gregory's Road into the loveliest, greenest, calmest part of Colombo I've ever seen. Jill, Malka, and I had the pool to ourselves until Jeff and Debbie Lunstead (ambassador and wife!) showed up for their evening swim.
side thought: it's weird that Jenny Lunstead's parents are here and are so impressively ranked and all. I have this impulse to treat them like any other of my friends' parents. I sort of can with Debbie, but with The Ambassador it's different--he's like this minor god vis-a-vis the goverment and the embassy and all. And then he shows up at the pool dressed like a tourist--go figure. I'm sure he does it to blend. Besides, you can't schlep around Colombo in a suit for more than it takes to get out of a car and into a building or you'll collapse.
So, we swam and chatted and whatnot, then went off to the Marines' house for a barbecue. We'd expected a frat-housey, boozy kind of shindig but really it was like any barbecue: beer, Webers, kids tear-assing around, dogs trying to steal food. My hero Rich was there, as well as Tod-the-'brighter-from-Texas who's hilarious, and lots of other embassy folks. We had a great time and ate lots of Amerikaawe foods (three-bean salad, for God's sake!) and yammered about politics and trivia and who spoke the most languages. For the record: Rich, 8. Jill and I tried to convince folks to visit Kandy at some point. Everyone seems to think of it as this hopeless backwater. No no, I said, it's like Cleveland--not sexy, but enjoyable nonetheless.
And now off to pursue my evening's plan. With some luck it will all happen--ha!
but it's somewhat lonesome too.
Back in the old 'hood today after a stunning (as always) ride up from Colombo with Jeremy, Jill, and Dharmasena. J&J are other 'brighters and Dharmasena is the program driver. We had an awesome time coming up--the views from the road are absolutely gorgeous as you leave the low-lying, paddy-crosshatched fields and jungles of the coastal plain and mount the incredibly steep and forested mountains. Every time I'm struck by how geographically daunting it would have been to any invaders--that's why, I think, the central areas of the island were uncolonized until 1815 while the coasts were overrun with greedy Europeans since long before then.
Anyway... I'm at the good ol' Kandyan Villas ("Kandyan Vistas" according to half their signs), the hotel we all stayed at for about a week back in 2002 when ISLE started. The staff remember me, which is heartening. I'm trying to do things one step at a time and not be all stressed about trying to immediately secure an apartment, a phone, an internet line, a plan for research, a group of friends, a place to exercise, a haircut, and a sense of control. Ha ha.
My plan for the evening: make some mobile-phone inquiries, have dinner with host family, watch movie in bed at hotel. Sleep as long as possible. Chill the hell out tomorrow. (Sunday, yay.)
Yesterday was fabulous, however. The orientation sessions wound up with a bang, provided by the AWESOMEST army dude ever--LTC Rich Girven of the embassy staff here. He gave us this incredible rundown of the US govt's military interests in Sri Lanka, mostly in order that we understand the prejudices Lankans might have. His talk was hilarious (the man has an amazing sense of understatement and wit) and hugely informative; if only more Army guys were this brilliant and perceptive, well, we'd live in a different world.
After that and the rest of the sessions, well, it was time for the embassy pool. Also amazing and wonderful in its own right--a guarded, gated entrance off posh Gregory's Road into the loveliest, greenest, calmest part of Colombo I've ever seen. Jill, Malka, and I had the pool to ourselves until Jeff and Debbie Lunstead (ambassador and wife!) showed up for their evening swim.
side thought: it's weird that Jenny Lunstead's parents are here and are so impressively ranked and all. I have this impulse to treat them like any other of my friends' parents. I sort of can with Debbie, but with The Ambassador it's different--he's like this minor god vis-a-vis the goverment and the embassy and all. And then he shows up at the pool dressed like a tourist--go figure. I'm sure he does it to blend. Besides, you can't schlep around Colombo in a suit for more than it takes to get out of a car and into a building or you'll collapse.
So, we swam and chatted and whatnot, then went off to the Marines' house for a barbecue. We'd expected a frat-housey, boozy kind of shindig but really it was like any barbecue: beer, Webers, kids tear-assing around, dogs trying to steal food. My hero Rich was there, as well as Tod-the-'brighter-from-Texas who's hilarious, and lots of other embassy folks. We had a great time and ate lots of Amerikaawe foods (three-bean salad, for God's sake!) and yammered about politics and trivia and who spoke the most languages. For the record: Rich, 8. Jill and I tried to convince folks to visit Kandy at some point. Everyone seems to think of it as this hopeless backwater. No no, I said, it's like Cleveland--not sexy, but enjoyable nonetheless.
And now off to pursue my evening's plan. With some luck it will all happen--ha!
10.09.2004
ayubowan, peeps.
finally blogger is accepting me and my new password. huzzah! entry to colombo/sri lanka has been sort of bumpy. flights were fine although delayed and melancholy. drugs for sleeping help.
the next few days were a haze of colombo life, orientation, trying not to get hit by a truck, etc... the high point was the military briefing by an awesome guy who told us all about how the sri lankans think the US is trying to steal their secrets. ha. the low point was wednesday afternoon and evening, when i got really sick and was throwing up everything i ingested, even water. the next day we had a health briefing and of course i got all scared about what-all i might have/have had. i'm still not eating much but i think that's from the heat more than the illness, whatever it was. (working theory: ate a rather large block of paneer on tuesday night and my vegan stomach [was] revolted.)
side tip: the nationalexpress bus ride from gatwick to heathrow is quite scenic and lovely but ultimately it starts looking like a crazy connecticut in which everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road. also, try to sit near the vaguely un-chic, though trying, french couple who are making fun of americans. i mean "trying" as in they are trying to be chic, but i guess they were trying, per se, as well.
otherwise: heading up to kandy tomorrow. better weather in store and hopefully will see lots of familiar people--for example, my family. orientation is over, the other fulbrighters are lovely people and i look forward to being around them. some are intimidating but all are friendly. we'll see when my usual inferiority complex sets in!
finally blogger is accepting me and my new password. huzzah! entry to colombo/sri lanka has been sort of bumpy. flights were fine although delayed and melancholy. drugs for sleeping help.
the next few days were a haze of colombo life, orientation, trying not to get hit by a truck, etc... the high point was the military briefing by an awesome guy who told us all about how the sri lankans think the US is trying to steal their secrets. ha. the low point was wednesday afternoon and evening, when i got really sick and was throwing up everything i ingested, even water. the next day we had a health briefing and of course i got all scared about what-all i might have/have had. i'm still not eating much but i think that's from the heat more than the illness, whatever it was. (working theory: ate a rather large block of paneer on tuesday night and my vegan stomach [was] revolted.)
side tip: the nationalexpress bus ride from gatwick to heathrow is quite scenic and lovely but ultimately it starts looking like a crazy connecticut in which everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road. also, try to sit near the vaguely un-chic, though trying, french couple who are making fun of americans. i mean "trying" as in they are trying to be chic, but i guess they were trying, per se, as well.
otherwise: heading up to kandy tomorrow. better weather in store and hopefully will see lots of familiar people--for example, my family. orientation is over, the other fulbrighters are lovely people and i look forward to being around them. some are intimidating but all are friendly. we'll see when my usual inferiority complex sets in!
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