Blog 8

I don't want to blow my own trumpet guys, but I'm now gained celebrity status in Sri Lanka. I mean it. I'm famous. I'm even more famous than Herbie but we'll get onto that in a moment. The source of our fame came from a previously unheard of school in Udugama. When Joan first uttered the words 'English Camp' I admit my heart did not jump for joy, perhaps due to the 5:30am pickup before a long day of teaching when we didn't know the time at which we would finish. And it was a Sunday. But being enthusiastic and energetic volunteers we raced down to the main road with caffeine induced cheer. Then followed an hours journey inland and up winding mountain passages until we reached the largest piece of flat land for several miles. This was Udugama Maha Vidyalya. As all such events should begin, we met the other teachers over breakfast, including the head of English who'd heard rumour of suda (white person) teachers working in Unawatuna and had tracked down Joan. The opening ceremony set the tone for the day when we were introduced as 'Mrs Joan and his team' which included 'academics Mr Michael and Mr Herbie from Glasgow University, Edinburgh, England'. It was hard to keep the laughter in as 200 people swiveled to face us, including a photographer and cameraman - even the Sri Lankan media wanted a piece of this. After that we were able to run a few classes with the attending students, the top fifth of each English class, and teach a few songs. The classic activity of seeing which side of the room could sing louder had them screaming 'ten green bottles' at a frightening volume.

Then lunch. The organisers had managed to get a hold of enough sets of cutlery for the attendees to be introduced to the strange western practice of eating with a knife and fork and we were being watched closely as we began to tuck in. Once the students realised you can use a fork pretty much like a spoon attention drifted away from us and the schools principle complimented me on how I 'manage to do this all the time at home' as he tried to use a teaspoon to break a mouth sized piece from a disc of pineapple. When the closing ceremony came we endured the essential speeches from everyone under the sun thanking everyone else for coming, then I was asked to come up and give mine. I'd been given notice that morning and asked if it would be no problem for me to deliver it in Sinhala. I hope they realised it was going to be a lot shorter than those preceding it which averaged 15 minutes. So I went up and started in English, surprising them with "Thank goodness our English day is finally over," then switched to Sinhala, "Now we can all speak Sinhala again." That got a few ears p****ng up and a couple of grins. The rest of it was me warbling on about how lovely their school was, how good their English is and all the stuff your meant to say in these circumstances.

Two days later the SGV staff pounced on Herbie and myself and, grinning, thrusted the front page of the national newspaper, Lanka Deepa 2, under our noses. There we found a photograph of the two of us with a group of kids that we'd been teaching about giving directions. The English teacher translated the article - which spoke about English camp and what went on - and the photo's caption which read 'Mr Michael and Mr Gabalt with our students'. It was a fair attempt at Garbutt, even if they did use it on the wrong person.

And Udugama wasn't the only school we visited this month, for we also went to nearby Ahangama with six of our Tittigalle students for a regional English competition. Three of them had been put forward for a handwriting competition and the other three, whom we'd had the pleasure of coaching, were to take part in the poetry recitation contest. Sandun, Gihani and Malshi were our three protégé and had been furiously studying the finer points of English pronunciation for several weeks. Upon our arrival in Ahangama we inevitably ran in to a few faces we knew - the crème de la crème of SGV and UMV along with their teachers and a few education department staff we'd had the pleasure of meeting. Those children that I heard had the easiest to understand voices that I've worked with in Sri Lanka so hats off to them all. Another trait that all seemed to possess was to stand with their hands behind their backs and lean really far forward, bending from the waist, whilst reciting their poems and after much deliberation we concluded that this must be something they were being marked on. When someone managed a full forty-five degrees while retaining their balance we were indeed impressed.

The customs of Sri Lanka can of course seem odd to the foreign visitor and to remind us of this fact, along came Emma's parents and sister for a two week expedition to our far flung corner of the Indian Ocean. During their first week they stayed in nearby Mihiripenna so's to be within easy distance of Emma's schools which they visited. They also joined us in a visit to a local spice garden where we were told of all the marvellous properties attributed to Sri Lankan plants. Did you know, for example, that lemon-grass tea cures arthiritis and cancer? Neither did I, but I was quickly on the phone to NHS 24 to tell them of this amazing fact that had evaded Western medicine for so long. There was a complimentary massage which I passed on but instead opted to play the role of photographer for the rest of them. We then took a boat across the lake to Cinnamon Island where we were shown how the bark is stripped from the branch then sliced and dried to produce, as our guide told us, cinnamon flakes or ground further into 'pooder'. After they'd spent a week sight-seeing in the central highlands we journeyed up to Colombo to see them off on their return flight. Together we enjoyed a slap-up meal in a Colombo restaurant then bid them farewell and went to meet with Ed and Alex, stopping at a bookshop on the way to make an attempt at one of those tediously difficult books that they call 'classics'. It didn't take me long to identify the narrowest spine on the shelf and purchase Twain's 'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer'. Not the character from Lost in case there was any confusion, this comes from before his time.

We're very sad to say that now Ed and Alex have also left Unawatuna permanently and migrated up to Colombo about a fortnight ago after an emotional goodbye in a Chinese restaurant with Wrestle Mania blaring from an ageing TV set in the corner. No more poker tournaments or weekend visits to Galle's dirty, male-only bars. Since then Alex has flown home while Ed lingered to see some relatives living in the capital. However, one too many nights without a mosquito net resulted in him getting dengue fever and has spent much of that time in the city hospital. He's on the mend now so we'll drop in on him this weekend provided he's not out by then.

I've had a stint in the local hospital myself after getting myself a tiny wee superficial bite on the hand from a dog. Unfortunately, having had the rabies vaccine before you travel doesn't fully protect you from the virus so I had to make a trip to nearby Karapitiya for some shots. One never pauses to think about how little flesh there is on a thumb until you're about to get a needle shoved into it. Five shots down over my first two visits with another two days lined up over the coming week. A strange thing I noticed is that throughout the A&E patients are forbidden to wear shoes. The entrance was just like that of a temple, a pile of flip-flops and sandals spread all around the door. I wouldn't think this would be particularly hygienic and the staff certainly wore footwear. Anyway, Agnes has warned Herbie to keep an eye out in case I start to turn into a dog and expressly forbade me from biting anyone.

Within the last month both Erin and Emma have turned 19 and birthday celebrations have been in full swing. Eager to do something a little different, Herbie and I refrained from a box of chocolates and a card and instead spent a few days writing and recording a birthday song for each of them. We presented it to them in a lovely wee wooden box, on my mp3 player (not included). I got a bit stressed as Emma (whose birthday came first) looked at the box, turning it over in her hands until I 'ahem'ed and suggested she open it and stop risking irreparable damage to it's contents. After that was the entrance of the birthday cake - the lights were turned off, I walked out from the kitchen, stepped under the fan and all the candles instantly blew out. Take two. It was always going to be difficult to make Erin's a surprise after that so we decided to just give it in the exact same way when her birthday came. The two of them actually held a joint birthday party for all the acquaintances they've made throughout the year, including select teachers, shop owners and friends. We went along to serve as tea-pourers and cake-slicers, taking our pay in kind. That lasted a couple of hours and we had a great time, getting to chat with all the people we've become close to this year.

But this did not conclude the birthday celebrations, oh no. Joan's gift, which Herbie and I were also able to benefit from, was a trip to Yala national park. This would be our second visit, having gone along last December but it was a completely different experience. For starters, our one roomed, suffocating guest house had been replaced by a lavish hotel, the photos of which I will put up to make you jealous. Secondly was the park itself. Having resident's visas meant we got in for the local 50 rupees rather than the tourist's 3000 and opened our eyes to the scam we'd fallen to last time as our guide went to buy our tickets telling us 'give me your visas so you can get in for only 800 rupees'. Cunning little badger must have pocketed the extra 750 per person. The highlight of the safari was seeing the creature that Yala is famous for, and had eluded us last time. The Sri Lankan leopard. We watched mesmerised while the 2.5m cat wandered around the edge of a small pond then cautiously approached a basking crocodile, 3m in length and not wanting to be budged. Hackles were raised and snarls sounded but both failed to provoke a response. A little put out, the leopard disappeared in to the trees and the engines of a dozen watching jeeps started in unison and raced down the road to watch it emerge at the other side. But the direction we were facing in meant we had to find a spot to turn and by the time we reached our previous position the big cat was back and we alone got to watch it meander up the hill and cross the road barely 8m in front of us. We had little smug grins on our faces as we later passed the other unfortunate visitors.

In other animal related news, Agnes has informed us that some families on Rumasala Hill set traps for porcupines. Apparently the meat is delectable. As a Buddhist, she wasn't willing to do it herself but posed us the engineering challenge to construct a trap and she'd take care of the salt and spices, so to speak. But Nimal put his foot down. What if someone came up to the house and saw there was an animal trap there? The embarrassment would be too much to bear. Ah well, no porcupine for us.

Now onto food, because that's always a good topic. It seems porcupine meat is acceptable but potato skins are not. That's right, we've shocked Agnes by not peeling our boiled tatties. Up until now she's thought them inedible. And thanks to my dad for sending over his marvellous mango chutney recipe. I can't claim to have made quite so tasty a batch but the four jars I produced certainly pleased Joan, Agnes and the girls. Good with pol-sambol. And the only thing better than good food is free food, which we were lucky enough to enjoy on our last full moon day. Poson Poya, as the festival is called, inspires organisations or groups of neighbours to set up Dansalas where anyone can drop in for a plate of nosh on the house. We decided to visit one held in Galle fort and hosted by the army base there. After waiting in the line for around twenty minutes and having a rather enjoyable chat with those around us we were spotted by one of the soldiers. White people? At a dansala? He, and later the event organiser, tried to lead us to the front of the queue which would have only taken a few more minutes to reach. Giving up seats for Westerners or serving them first is something that some Sri Lankans feel compelled to do and while it's very polite, it's also incredibly awkward so we laughed it off each time, insisted we wait our turn and were soon being served two plates of steaming noodles. Herbie pointed out that when we'd replied 'No, no thanks' to the soldier who'd simply said 'come' we may have been inadvertently resisting arrest. I'd just turned to find myself a chair when I notice the aforementioned soldier pointing a camera at me. I waited for him to take his picture then took a seat by two of the people we'd been talking to in the queue. Our conversation had barely restarted when a camera flash went off behind me. We turned to see another soldier putting a camera away and wandering off. This happened a few times while we ate.

Other things we've been up to in Unawatuna. During the poetry competition we got talking to a teacher at Buonavista School in Unawatuna and he's quite keen for Senahasa to get involved with his school either by providing volunteers or introducing a food program since many of the students go without breakfast which contributes to the high rate of absenteeism. Around a fifth don't show up each day. So Herbie and I took a day to visit the school, meet the principle and get an idea of the shape the school's in. The setting, up on Rumasala Hill, was incredible but sadly some of the buildings were no longer in use and had made significant headway in the process of self-demolition. After meeting the staff and pupils we asked our prescribed questions of the principle then went home to type up a report to Senahasa. Joan's forwarded that to them now so we'll see soon enough if they want to get involved.

And that's all for now. Our teaching days are now severely numbered so in my next update I'll talk about our last days in Unawatuna. You'll also find out about drama club and whether I've shrugged off the rabies or gone barking mad (if you'll excuse the pun).

Michael.