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.
10.15.2004
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!
8.04.2004
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