From: m1pkd00@fed.frb.gov (Prasad K. Dharmasena)
Newsgroups: soc.culture.sri-lanka,soc.culture.indian,rec.travel
Subject: Trip to Sri Lanka
Date: 15 Oct 92 22:01:56 GMT
Reply-To: m1pkd00@fed.frb.gov ()
Followup-To: soc.culture.sri-lanka
Organization: Federal Reserve Board, Wash, DC


{ Following is a report someone had written after her visit to Sri Lanka.
  I received the article third or fourth hand and with all the reference
  to its origin deleted.  I thought that this might give an alternate
  perspective of Sri Lanka.  This is being cross-posted on soc.culture.
  sri-lanka, soc.culture.indian, and rec.travel.  I don't get soc.culture.
  tamil, so, I can't post it there.  Someone else may want to do the honors.
  Follow-up's are directed to soc.culture.sri-lanka. --prasad }


* * * * * * * Trip to Sri Lanka * * * * * * *

	Colombo 

Before I went to Sri Lanka I was worried about where to stay in Colombo.
In the airplane to Colombo I met a Tamil sailor with whom I took a taxi 
from the airport.  I had helped him during the flight because his finger
had been cut in an accident on the ship.  Now he returned the favour and
promised to take me to a hotel.  I insisted that it should be a tamil
place, as cheap as possible, and after suggesting some hotels he finally
understood what I want and took me to Wellawatta.  

The taxi stopped in Chapel lane in front of one house and he jumped out
and went in to inquire about the place.  I don't know what he told there
but in five minutes I was inside that "Safe House" with more than a
hundred Jaffna Tamils!  Exactly what I had dreamed of!  Without help I
would never have found such a place.

The next nine days I spent there sitting on a bench in front of the
house and chatting with other women, playing with children, and
once a day going somewhere - to see Pettah, or to visit friends in
Dehiwala or Mount Lavinia.  I learned to use buses, to cross streets and
to ask the way.  What I didn't learn was Sinhala!

I had planned to stay in Colomblo at most five days, but the Tamil
surroundings there made me feel unsure about whether I want to go to
other parts of Sri Lanka, where I probably would not be able to use
Tamil.  The few Sinhalese people I met didn't make me want to meet any
more of them.  One of them asked where I stay in Colombo.  I didn't want
to tell the exact place but said only "with Tamils".  His immediate
reaction was: "Oh!  They are all terrorists!".  I asked whether he knows
any Tamils, and he told he doesn't... I really didn't want to travel
among such people!

I couldn't stay there for two months.  I was quite sure I wouldn't 
fulfill my dream of going to the tamil areas.  At least I had to 
know better what is the situation, before going there.  I left to Galle.


	The South

At the railway station two local "guides" saw me and told me that they
want to take me to a guest house.  I was very reluctant because I knew
how much more I would have to pay then.  And finally it happened that
they came with me, but I paid "only" 250 Rs in that quite luxury family
guest house while other tourists paid 375 Rs!  I know that even that is
a lot - normally I paid only 100 Rs - but in those tourist places prices
are much higher then elsewhere. 

It was a muslim family.  I had heard that SL muslims speak Tamil, but I
thought that it is only if they live in tamil areas...  Now I found out
that most of them speak it!  

All the town got to know me in those three days - at least half of them!
They learned my name easily, because it is pronounced like "a xxxxxxxx" 
in Sinhala.  And when they heard that I speak Tamil, everyone gathered
around me and wanted to hear.  I used my few Sinhala words, which
made them even more surprised, and showed how I write Sinhala.  I was
astonished to notice how "western" that town was.  I had never expected
to see people jogging around, and young people spending time together in
the evenings just like in Southern Europe.

One day I went for a walk.  When a boy started to talk to me, I
asked: "Are you a Muslim or a Sinhalese?".  When he told that he is a
Muslim, I was ready to continue conversation with him - in Tamil.  He was
17, still in school.  We both enjoyed walking and talking, and after a
long walk I visited his home.  What actually doesn't belong into this
story is that I just recieved a letter from him - he gives his bank
account number and asks to send money for his education!  As far as I
remember he wanted to become a policeman.

One day I spent in a local muslim boy school attending maths, science
and Tamil lessons.  

Next I went by bus to Tissamaharama - I used only buses in SL, except
from Colombo to Galle.  It was quite near to the town when someone told
me to get off there.  He said the bus is going to Kataragama.  I jumped
out just to find out that it was Deberawewa, 2 miles from Tissa, and the
person who had told me to get off wanted to take me to his guest house! 
I was furious!  I refused to talk to him, and started to walk towards
Tissa.  Another boy tried to speak to me, and although I was first angry
also at him, I slowly calmed down.  When he assured me that I would have
to pay just 100 Rs in "his" guest house, I agreed.

Kataragama was a disappointment.  A modern, clean town, all Sinhalese...
And when that boy (well, a man) showed too clearly that he "loves" me,
and wants to marry me, I felt uneasy and decided to leave the place as
soon as possible.  But before that I spent one day in Kirinda, a nice 
muslim village on the coast.


	The East

Then it was time to decide whether to continue to the hill country, or
try Eastern SL.  I had thought that I could ask about the situation when
I get nearer, but no one seemed to know.  All the way afterwards it was
the same: they didn't know.  Had I listened to them, I would never have
done it to all those places.  But I decided to go as far as I could
until I would be turned back...

The next destination, Pottuvil, was reachable...  Only in Moneragala no
one knew whether there are buses to Pottuvil.  Someone told that I can't
go there.  But a muslim boy from Pottuvil heard my inquiries, and he
told that there will be a bus in the afternoon.  

Again I entered into the world of the army and countless checkpoints... 
Now it was different than last time going to Jaffna (around new year 
1990).  This time it was only the SL army, and now I was travelling 
alone.  To avoid trouble and suspicion, I always got out of the bus 
at checkpoints - most women refused to do that telling that they are 
sick, or that it's too hot outside.  I opened my backpack without 
hesitation - I had nothing to conceal - and although they sometimes 
searched through it quite carefully it was no trouble for me.  I avoided
speaking Tamil with soldiers, but answered in Sinhala if they started 
in that language.  A few, though, asked whether I know also Tamil and 
I didn't lie to them.

In Pottuvil - Arugam Bay, actually - I stayed with a Tamil-Sinhalese
family for twelve days, first as a normal paying tourist, but soon as
their guest and friend.  There were about 10-15 other westerners in the
village - the last tourists I saw for weeks - but I didn't identify
myself with them.  I spent all the time with "my family" or walking 
on the beach alone.  I went to pick firewood with Jeya and girls, I
swimmed with them in the sea (with my clothes on :-)), tourists wondering
why I am so strange, I worked four days carrying bricks and sand when they
were building a third cabana near their house (and after that my neck
was hurting for two days so that I had to stay in bed)...  I had friends
also among Muslims from the next village, and I visited them twice.  My
family warned me about them, and the Muslims warned me about the Tamils
- I didn't listen.  They were enemies, I know, but I never met any bad
Muslims in SL, and therefore I did trust them.  When they told other
people in the village that I am not like a vellaikari, but like a muslim
girl, I felt that they almost meant it...

There were close ties between the local sinhalese and tamil communities. 
They really can't exist without each other: if the Sinhalese leave, 
the Muslims and the army can freely attact the Tamils' homes.  If the 
Tamils leave, LTTE may do something to the sinhalese.  The Muslims were 
afraid of the Tigers, and when anything happened, they revenged on the 
civilian Tamils.

All the families where I stayed with in the east coast, had suffered a
lot.  All of them hated Muslims, and the army...  Muslims had
burned the house of my family in Pottuvil, and two years ago Jeya's
father had been taken away by the army, and there were no news about
him.  In another family both father and a son had been killed by
soldiers.  The family in Kalmunai had had to leave their house in a
nearby village because the muslims didn't allow them to stay there. 
Everywhere at least one family member was missing...I was surprised 
how calmly they told about their missing sons and husbands, as if it 
were a law that the army can come and kill them.

Chuttiya, the father of the family I lived with in Pottuvil, 
is a Sinhalese.  But he helps all the big family of his Tamil
wife.  He is a fisherman.  He told me how he came home
from fishing that one night two years ago and saw that his home 
was burned, as were some other tamil houses.  His family was
not there, and he thought that the muslims have killed them. 
His younger son was just a baby and the elder one two years
old.  In fury he and his friends went and caught three muslim
boys, who they knew had been burning the houses.  They didn't 
quite kill them, he told me :-)  (His family had not been killed, 
but were hiding in neigbouring houses).

You may be wondering who were those people who invited me to their
homes.  They were quite ordinary Tamil families.  I never talked for
example politics with them - I didn't want them to suspect me!  In
Akkaraipattu I stayed with relatives of my Pottuvil family, and in
Kalmunai again some distant relatives of the Akkaraipattu family who
happened to visit them when I was there.  And last, in Batticaloa, it
was the house of some friends of the Kalmunai family...  In buses
people who met me and talked to me were ready to invite me to their
homes.  Only once, in Kalmunai, I felt that I was not welcomed by the
old father of the family - maybe he was afraid of possible trouble or
maybe he was suspicious because I am a "vellaikari".  But still, I could
stay there, and after two days even he liked me a lot (well, not
everyone likes me, I'm not that nice...).

There is a place called Crocodile Rock 2.5 miles from Arugam Bay along
the beach towards Yala.  Too far for many people.   One day I
started to walk there.  It was too near for me :-). I continued my way
and walked about 7-8 miles further on that empty beach, without any
signs of people around.  There were no villages there.  Finally I saw a
lonely tONi-boat nearing the shore.  Two fishermen came to me, and
invited me to their village, Panama, a mile from the seashore.  It was
mostly Sinhalese village with some Tamils, but no muslims.  They all
knew Tamil, though.  

When who home-guard boys heard about me, they came to me and told that
they have to take me to an army camp.  It was still further away.  If I
had come by road I would have seen it.  Now soldiers asked me how I had
got into the village without coming through their checkpoint.  I told I
had walked on the beach.  They told me that it is dangerous because
there are Tigers there and that I should return by road.  

When I returned in the evening - disobeying them and going again on 
the beach - I tried to imagine where all those boys are hiding that 
they warned me about.  But I didn't see any tigers, only monkeys :-(.
Although tired of the long walk (or maybe because of it), I had enjoyed 
that day very much.

Now I jump straight to Batticaloa, leaving Akkaraipattu (1 day) and 
Kalmunai (5 days).  The day after I had come from Kalmunai to 
Batticaloa, a bus had been stopped and 18 muslims killed.  If I had stayed
one day longer in Kalmunai, I would probably have been in that bus...
In Kalmunai I was two days in rice fields when they were harvesting. 
They dind't let me do real work, because it "was not for women"! :-)

I was only one day in Batticaloa.  I left it to Valaichchenai in a bus
which was the fullest I have ever seen.  It was so low that we had to
bend our shoulders and heads.  Really uncomfortable, standing on one leg. 
Well, I got a seat quite soon... Normally I was not given any
privilegies, and I didn't want any, but here one man told me to sit down
when he saw how I had to stand.  Somewhere before Valaichchenai we
picked a sich woman from the roadside - she died before we got there... 

I wanted to go to Kalkuda.  The bus driver asked one man in
Valaichchenai to help me.  He told me to wait in a tea shop for an army
truck which would take me there.  It is not far, maybe 2-3 miles, and I
could have walked, but I was tired and I wasn't sure about where to stay
in Kalkuda.  I heard that no hotels or guest houses are open.  But then
two young men, really nice ones, gave me one bike and came together on
another.  They told that the man whom the driver had asked to help me,
is a muslim and couldn't come to Kalkuda which is tamil...  They took me
to the only open guest house there, the Green House.  Well, "open" meant
just that they were ready to take me, not that they were doing big
business with tourists: I was the third one there this year... It was
again a Tamil-Sinhalese family, and maybe that is why their house had
been saved when all other hotels were distroyed two years back.

Passekuda was really a ghost village.  Only frames of luxorious hotels 
had been left standing - walls and floors distroyed.  Plants had started to
conquer back what had belonged to them before tourists had come.  The
deserted beach was really the best I had seen in SL - but no one was
swimming, even fishermen didn't use it for their boats or local children
for playing...

People in Kalkuda-Passekuda were surprised to see me.  Many of them told
how happy they are to see a vellaikari again after many years.  They
showed me photos of tourists who had visited their homes in those good
old days... Life had really changed there...

I spent most of my time there with fishermen.  They took me to the sea
on a tONi boat as they went to put their "valai"s... They sang as they
pulled valais... They laughed and they talked a lot with me, and I
understood everything they said... They were good people.  

Valaichchenai seems to be a difficult place with a large 
muslim population.  Even during my stay in Kalkuda they had some 
problems there.  Again I didn't see anything :-(.

Last place that I visited in the East was Trincomalee.  The bus from
Valaichchenai went there through Anuradhapura!  Quite a long way... 
When we reached there I asked the driver for a Tamil place to stay, and
he told me about a guest house.  Tamil!  Well, maybe it was good that I
met even that kind of Tamils: tho only son of the owner is a captain of
the SL army, fighting in Jaffna...  No wonder why he seemed to be so
friendly with high-ranking soldiers in the city!

I went to Fort Frederick and the temple there (which was closed). I
talked to many nice (!) soldiers - Trinco was full of soldiers.  

In the guest house I met a man whose Tamil was very pure.  He had just
published a collection of short stories and he gave me a copy.  Funny
that this man who seemed to value Tamil language more than anyone I had
met, is a muslim!

All the time I had been wondering whether I will reach Jaffna.  I was
reluctant to tell anyone of my plans because they would have told me
that it's impossible.  I did, anyway, tell that owner of the guest house
- I thought that he could give me some hints about how to get there (and
although his son was in the army, he *was* a nice person :-).  He said
he's sure that I would get into troble if I went to Jaffna...


	The North

I went to Vavuniya.  I spent one night in the "XXXXXX XXXXX" where I finally
*had* to tell about my dream, because I needed them to help me.  So I
left my camera and half of my luggage in the hotel, because I knew that
taking batteries would be out of question and having too many things
would make the possible journey more difficult.  I told the boy that I
would probably return the same day.  He took me to a lorry, which took
me to tAndikuLam...

First we queued for the army checking... There was a Tamil woman from
xxxxxx, and there were some people whom I had met the previous day in
the bus from Trincomalee (in the bus no one had told they are going to
Jaffna, but here we met, knowing that each of us had told a small lie to
each other...).  We had to spread our things on a green cloth, where
everything was checked carefully.  When they took away batteries from
that XXXXX Tamil's camera, I was happy I hadn't brought mine.  They
asked me where I am going, and I told - as if it were the most natural
thing in the world - "I'm going to Jaffna".  I don't know whether it was
my confidence and calmness, or my innocent outlook :-), or what - they 
didn't ask me much, just shook their heads and let me go!

The second part of the "test" was after some miles of walking.  I was
still amazed at how easily I got through the first part.  This second
was harder...  First a minute checking of our belongings - letters were
opened, photos looked through and asked about the people in them. 
And then thousands of questions!  Soldiers had talked in English and 
Sinhala, but from now on I would use only Tamil.  I answered honestly. 
They asked mostly about my motives to go there.  My motives were "to see 
Jaffan again" and "to meet friends".  And lots of questions about my
family. When I told that my parents know that I am in SL, but think that
I'm swimming and sun bathing on a beach somewhere in the South, Tiger
girls burst out laughing and couldn't stop it!  Yes, the place was quite
far from a tourist resort...  They didn't really ask me much about
politics, just whether I am against them, to which I answered: "I'm on
the Tamil side", which doesn't really say anything.  And again it 
happened, against my expectations, that they trusted me and gave me a 
pass to enter Jaffna.

Our bus reached Nallur of Poonakari only before 7 pm, after lots of trouble
with the motor and that self-made "diesel".  At one stage we all had to
get out of the bus while the driver poured water on the boiling motor -
first all the water turned into steam.  First part of the road 
after Tandikulam was in a bad condition, but later on not
worse than roads in the East.  While shops in other parts of SL
sell Fanta, here they had bottles of kerosine oil and vegetable 
oil.  Shops looked so empty!   Then in Poonakari we waited
until midnight, and then went to the seashore on a tractor.  And again
queueing... There were so many people, and so many things to be taken to
the other side that I wasn't sure whether we would get the boat the same
night.  I knew that transporting people - especially useless tourists
like me - was not as important as taking goods to Jaffna.  But we got 
into a boat finally, and it took us to Kilali (after almost getting lost
in the sea when we didn't find those small signal lights).  On the sea I
realized how vulnerable Jaffna is: the lights of both the Elephant Pass
and Poonakari army camps could be seen on the left and right - the 
short stretch of land between them was the only supply route to Jaffna. 
It seemed such a simple task for the army to conquer it! ... Well, of
course it is not simple, because even though they may have a camp
somewhere, they don't control the lands around it.

The whole trip from Tandikulam to Jaffna costed 685 Rs (first bus 350,
tractor 35, boat 150, and bus to Jaffna 150).  

I stayed in Inuvil, Kondavil and Kokkuvil, and on my way back in
Poonakari with families whom I had met on my previous visit.  Altogether
nine days.  The difference was big: now I could move freely around,
without being afraid of the Indian army sending me back to Colombo, now
there were no soldiers, no roadblocks...  Of course, I didn't see below
the surface, I'm just telling what the city looked like... It was much
more "normal" than the East!  And even the center was nothing compared
to how Passekuda had been damaged (I didn't go to those areas which had
suffered the most in Jaffna). 

People were different, too.  No one shouted a "hallo" to me... They were
very quiet...  But they, too, were ready to talk to me when they had the
opportunity.  Also there someone told that they want people like me to
come to visit Jaffna, so that they wouldn't feel so separated from the
rest of the world. 

Some people, though, were suspicious... I visited the Jaffna university.
When I went to see the library the people who were asked to show me 
the place clearly thought that I have connections with the LTTE, and 
they were *too* polite and too eager to show every piece of literature 
they have that has been published by the Tigers.

In CS department I met many people, but as my memory is really bad, I
remember well only prof. XXXXXXXXX (whose home I visited, too), and
xxxxxx and his wife... They were all friendly and nice, and even told
that I could come there for a year or two to work after finishing my MS!  

All of those three houses where I stayed in Jaffna had displaced
families living there... In Kondavil there was a family from Achchuveli,
and in Inuvil and Kokkuvil families from Tellipalai, whose houses had
been blown up by the LTTE before the army took over those areas.

Only on my way back to Poonakari from Kilali I understood why everyone -
even the Jaffnese - were surprised to hear that I had used that route,
and not come there for example with the ICRC.  Before I left, the boat
service had been stopped for three nights because of hard wind.  Now it
was the first night that those hundred boats were running again, but it
was still windy.  Sometimes earlier people had had to wait for days to
get over, now we got the information already in Jaffna.  And anyway,
they didn't allow too many people to leave Jaffna, and therefore the boat
queue was not too long.

Already before sunset we were waiting near the beach.  A helicopter came
towards us and many people run under trees, but it didn't look dangerous
(as if I knew anything :-).  It went away after two rounds above us. 
Then we were allowed to walk to a boat - water is so shallow there that
boats had to wait quite far away.  But that was just fun!  The sun was
setting and the sky was all red.  There were 16 people and four bicycles
in our boat.  Immediately when we got to the sea, we felt how strong the
wind still was.  I got wet all over - waves swashed some water even above
my head.  I held fast to the edge of our boat always when a big wave
made it lurch.  Salt water filled my mouth and nose although it was my
back that was facing the wind and waves... When the boat had had it's
fair share of the water some boys started to scoop it back to the sea. 
My body shivering and teeth chattering from cold, I listened to Tiger
songs which those boys were singing.  Whenever they looked at me I
smiled to them, thinking that when the boat turns over we will die
together :-).  

Just before we reached the opposite shore, a navy gunboat saw us.  But I
think that it was just like the helicopter, only routinely observing the
traffic.  We missed the landing place, and therefore had to push the
boat a long way in very deep mud - I jumped to the water with men. 
Water was shallow, but when we walked there pushing the boat, mud
sometimes reached my waist...  Kind of difficult to push a boat when you
try not to sink into the mud!  And so typical of tamil women to refuse
to get down (two of them in the boat didn't, although they were asked to
when the men saw that I was pushing the boat, too) - many
of them complain if they have to walk two miles or walk in in the 
sunshine or get off the bus at army checkpoints!

Before returning to Vavuniya I spent two days in Poonakari in quite a
poor house, or hut.  For some reason they didn't have even a bathroom,
and therefore we had to get up before dawn, take a hoe and water bucket,
go to a field and make a hole there...  The nearest well had ten
centimetres of muddy water, and drinking water had to be brought from
half a mile away.  But I liked the place!  

When I returned to Tandikulam, I found out that while in Jaffna I 
should have gone to a LTTE camp and report myself there.  They really
hadn't told me to do it, and no one in Jaffna realized it, either. 
But they believed me now, and let me go to Vavuniya without trouble.  
I don't know whether they would have asked me to pay something in the
camp - now I hadn't given them anything.  

The army asked me more now than when I was going to Jaffna and 
they were kind of surprised that they had let me go through... 

In Vavuniya, and everywhere after that, I felt that I was something
special :-).  People couldn't believe that I had made the trip.  I didn't
believe it myself, either, when I saw their reactions.


	Back to Colombo

Before returning to Colombo I spent two days in Anuradhapura.  I had
wanted to go Mannar, but there was no time for it - only then my tour
would have been complete.  Again I was in Sinhalese surroundings, just
like a normal tourist, and treated as a European woman - I hated it! 
After Tissa, in the East and North I had been with Tamils and Muslims 
who all treated me respectfully. 

In Colombo I went back to Safe House.  Many of the people whom I had met
two months earlier were still there.  They were very happy to see me
again and wanted to hear what I had experienced after I left Colombo. 
They told that my Tamil had improved, which was true: at least I was more
ready to use the words I knew without fear of not being understood. 
Also in the city I now used Tamil with almost everyone without thinking
whether they know it or not - it worked well also in Sinhalese shops. 

What I have told here may give you a wrong impression about how I spent
my time in Sri Lanka.  I have written a lot about Tamils, Muslims and
Sinhalese, and about LTTE, and so on.  That's because those things were
the most exciting there, things that made this trip unique for me.  Last
time I was only with the Tamils, and only with families which I knew. 
This time I met different people and got a more varied picture of Sri 
Lanka and it's problems.  

Most of the time I spent with Tamils.  But I met that muslim writer,
too.  I met a nice Muslim who lives in a refugee camp after his home had
been burned by the Tigers.  I met Muslims who asked me to visit them,
who gave me rice to eat.  And in Anuradhapura, where everyone else spoke
Sinhala, I looked for a muslim shop where to have my lunch because I
wanted to be with people who speak Tamil.  Therefore, I do like Muslims
now more than I did before my trip.  

Not only Muslims...  I spoke to soldiers, young men, who always were
polite to me.  In Trincomalee I even told those soldiers that I know
Tamil, and when they heard it they asked one muslim soldier to talk with
me.  In Kalkuda I went to a navy camp, and drank ilanir with them.  They
were the same soldiers about whom everyone in the village warned me
about, and told me that they are *so* bad.  But even though I didn't
like the army, I had nothing against soldiers.

I even met some good Sinhalese!  It's a pity that I happened to meet so
many not-so-good ones that my overall opinion of them remains quite
negative.  It is maybe because I met civilian Sinhalese only in
touristic areas of Sri Lanka.  Some of them knew exactly what western
women are like :-), and behaved according to that.  

Normally, though, I spent my time without thinking of all those
problems.  I just lived!  I talked with people about everyday life.  I
went for long walks.  I ate delicious hot food, without thinking of it's
cleanness - a normal tourists who needs clean food which is not too hot,
could not have managed there.  I went to bed at nine o'clock, and got up
before six.  

Some hours before I was due to leave Sri Lanka the police came to our
lodge - they had searched those places for possible LTTE activists.  It
was a good end to my trip to have a *nice* chat with that some kind of a
security guy from the police.  We talked for almost an hour.  He didn't
ask so much about where I had been or what I had done, but about my
opinions and about my reasons to visit tamil areas.  Now they have a 
small black file with my name on it, I guess!  I hope they will let me 
return to Sri Lanka! 


* * * * * * *   The End  * * * * * * * 
Xref: sparky soc.culture.sri-lanka:1149 soc.culture.tamil:2702