04 November 2005
Hi guys,
I know I have included you all in my Tsunami Update mailings but don’t think I have written about life here on a more personal level for some time. So here goes.
Akkaraipattu where I’m based has no piped water so we all rely on the well in the garden, or for some of the less fortunate the river, for our supply. We have had no rain since February and the water situation is beginning to get quite serious. The wells of several of my neighbours have gone dry and they have to use those which still have some water including mine. My well seems to be a bit deeper than most and there is about 6 inches of water remaining. So I have people coming in to take away a couple of buckets full or to wash their clothes and/or bodies in the garden. My house was built by a reasonably wealthy man (by local standards) for his daughter as part of her dowry and boasts one of the few western style bathrooms in town equipped with shower and toilet (although I also have a squat and drop loo in the garden). There’s a pump which takes water from the well to a header tank to supply the house. No hot water of course but that’s not too much of a problem with minimum temperatures of 30c. Unfortunately, the water in the well is now too
low for pumping. So I’m now living life in the same way as many millions of Sri Lankans. I too go to the well to bathe and trying to wash all over by bucket in the garden whilst retaining my modesty and dignity I find a bit embarrassing and a little awkward. Dropping the soap in the sand is not pleasant either. The monsoon season should start this month and in the evenings clouds start to build up but so far no rain. But hopefully the rains will start any day now. I guess it’s ironic that we’re desperate for rain whereas in Mexico, Florida etc they have praying for it to stop. I now appreciate how much we take for granted good clean water out of the tap.
The holy month of Ramadan started here on October 6th and finishes today. All my Muslim neighbours have been fasting between sunrise and sunset. All believers above the age of 7 except the sick and pregnant women are required to take part. The local wives have been up at 4.00 to make sure the family was fed before dawn at 5.10am. Breakfast usually consists of string hoppers (tangled circles of steamed noodles) served with dhal and sambol which is made from grated coconut, chilli and spices. After breakfast there is no eating or drinking (no smoking or sex either!) until dusk at 6.25pm. I usually get home from work about this time to be called by my next door neighbour Imamahed to join his family in a bowl of rice porridge signalling the end of the fast for the day. This is rice cooked in coconut milk with garlic, chilli, salt, pepper and a few vegetables thrown in and it’s quite tasty and filling and will keep them going until dinner at around 9.00pm. The mosques are a bit more active during Ramadan and will usually broadcast 2 to 3 hours of readings from the Koran over the loudspeakers during the evening. As these are sung, perhaps chanted would be a better description, it’s quite pleasant even if I don’t understand most of what they are saying. Not to be outdone, the Hindus have been holding a series of poojas which are religious ceremonies in which the gods are asked to help in various
activities. Last week the Hindu organisations I work with held poojas at the office seeking to improve the staffs capacity and efficiency in their work activities. As this is what I try to help them with, I thought it worthwhile to attend so that I might see some improvement in my own endeavours. Unlike Islam which is quite austere, a lot of singing and some
dancing was involved as well as plenty to eat so everybody had a good time. The more spectacular Hindu ceremonies involving fire walking and body mutilation will come later.
My neighbours remain very kind, helpful and friendly and make sure any problems I have are sorted out. I get invited to all the social functions such as weddings, coming of age celebrations, funerals and death remembrances (which are jollier than they sound). Recently I went to a circumcision party where family, friends and neighbours gathered to welcome the two young boys into the ranks of the initiated. The two lads were not too happy but perhaps with their sore willies that’s not surprising.
I enjoyed looking at the reunion photos and trying to work out who was who without referring to your key.
The Ronny Barker story was excellent as well. A rugby friend of mine recently included the joke below in his e-mail. I’m sure it doesn’t apply to any of us. Well, I guess that’s about it for now.
Best wishes to you all, John.