In Sri Lanka, for some reason, people never say that they are just leaving, not if there is the chance they will come back. It's always "I'll just go and come, shall I?" I've been thinking about this since I left Sri Lanka, yesterday at 1:15 Colombo time (exactly eighty six day and fifteen minutes from when I arrived). When I was leaving and saying good bye I told every one I would go and come - because how could I not return to this wonderful, magical, frustrating dripping land? Somewhere along the line, despite (or because of) the terrifyingly hot food, the constant sweating, the insane traffic, I really began to love Sri Lanka. I was sorry to leave.
Sorry to leave, but not sorry to get to London! Yes, I'm finished my internship, and am celebrating with a few days in London. My flight was coming through here anyway, and I have lots of time, so I thought I'd stop and see the Tower of London. I've been to London a couple times, but never seen the Tower (the first time I came we were so broke we could only see what was free, which included the outside of the tower; the second time I was only in London for an afternoon, and obviously Westminster Abbey takes precidence).
The flight from Colombo was long, but not full. I had an empty seat next to me, which I consider to be the most rare and wonderful of all airline pleasures. However, to counterbalance this, the lady in front of me kept her seat reclined an unreasonable amount. Still, with seat back TVs and some decent movies, it was an ok flight.
I'm staying at a YMCA in London, and it proved to be easy to get to - took the tube straight from Heathrow, with only one change. The room is nice- a private room, and it has carpet! and hot water! These are things that I got used to not seeing in Sri Lanka, where neither is very practiable. This morning I had my first hot shower since I was in Bandarawella with Fr. Dilho, and it was glorious.
I'm here for a few days, then back to Canada. I'm finished my time in Sri Lanka, but I still have lots of stories to tell - internet was often difficult to come by, and by the time I had a chance to update this blog, there would be too much to post. So continue to read for the next few months, as I reflect on my trip, tell the stories I wasn't able to tell before, and of course post more pictures.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Culture Shock
It's always the small things that get me in Sri Lanka. I expected the food to be different, and it is. I expected the people to have (to my ears) accents, and they do. So those things don't really surprise me. But the other day, I was sitting in church, wearing my black cassock and white surplice, right in the midst of a traditional BCP evensong service. Aside from the fact that I was slowly roasting to death in my heavy black cassock, everything was familiar. Then I looked across the chancel (where we were sitting) through the vestry, and out an open door on to the street. From where I was sitting I could see a dirty cement wall covered in election posters (from the elections in January). So far, so normal. Then a little man with a mustache wearing a sarong and no shirt wandered by, and I was suddenly reminded that I was not, in fact, in Canada, or even England, but was indisputably in Sri Lanka.
It's the same with the language. They have what they call "Sri Lankan English" (SLE) here. The idea is that every country has its own way of speaking English, and that none is exactly wrong, just different. If two Sri Lankans can speak SLE to each other, and understand each other, what does it matter if the Canadian is lost? There is an accent, of course, and as I said, I expected this. What I didn't expect, the part of SLE that really gets me, even now, is the phrases they use. Sri Lanka was an English colony until 1948, and so the English they speak here uses English slang and phrasing. This gets confusing for a North American who uses the phrasing from the USA more often than England. I cannot express my confusion and amusement the first time I heard a driver, who had been cut off in traffic as "that fellow! That cheeky fellow!"
When I ask people if I can take a picture of them, I get a blank look. When I ask if I can take a photo, it's all smiles. I even catch myself beginning to use it with people, which has prompted a question for me. Is it better, would it make me easier to understand, if I use SLE (at least to a degree), for me to speak Canadian English? Sometimes I think that to use SLE would be better, as it is what they are used to hearing. But then I use it, and it sound so fake, sound to my ear as if I am condescending to speak SLE, that I revert back to Canadian English. At least until I get another blank look.
It's the same with the language. They have what they call "Sri Lankan English" (SLE) here. The idea is that every country has its own way of speaking English, and that none is exactly wrong, just different. If two Sri Lankans can speak SLE to each other, and understand each other, what does it matter if the Canadian is lost? There is an accent, of course, and as I said, I expected this. What I didn't expect, the part of SLE that really gets me, even now, is the phrases they use. Sri Lanka was an English colony until 1948, and so the English they speak here uses English slang and phrasing. This gets confusing for a North American who uses the phrasing from the USA more often than England. I cannot express my confusion and amusement the first time I heard a driver, who had been cut off in traffic as "that fellow! That cheeky fellow!"
When I ask people if I can take a picture of them, I get a blank look. When I ask if I can take a photo, it's all smiles. I even catch myself beginning to use it with people, which has prompted a question for me. Is it better, would it make me easier to understand, if I use SLE (at least to a degree), for me to speak Canadian English? Sometimes I think that to use SLE would be better, as it is what they are used to hearing. But then I use it, and it sound so fake, sound to my ear as if I am condescending to speak SLE, that I revert back to Canadian English. At least until I get another blank look.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Well, I'm sorry about the lack of updates here. If I don't update, dear reader, don't be alarmed- it's that I'm too busy meeting people and doing things! Internet access here is a bit difficult sometimes. At the Theological College there was only one internet computer for the students - and it didn't always work. Here in Colombo I use St. Michael and All Angels Polwatte church office internet - which means fitting my time and use in around the needs of the office. To make up the lack, I'll put up some more pictures today.
I'm not in Sri Lanka on holiday. I didn't come here to relax, or see the sights the way most tourists visit. I came to learn, to learn about the church and the people, the rewards and challenges of being an Anglican and a Christian in this country. Of course, every now and then even the most dedicated of cross cultural learners manages a day off to visit an elephant orphanage.
In my case, it worked out very well. I had not been able to go when I was at the college, though it is near by. However, last Friday was the College Day, and the induction of Fr. Jerome as the new principal of TCL. There was a van going from Colombo, so I was able to go along. Fr. Dushantha, who is the parish priest at St. Michael's and one of my supervisors, had the idea to drop me at the orphanage on the way, to the college. I would then take the train to the college, after a few hours with the pachyderms, arriving in plenty of time for the induction.
I didn't go alone. There is a graduated TCL student, Nireshe, who is working at St. Michaels, and he had never seen the orphanage either.
The van dropped us off about six kilometers from the orphanage, and we caught a bus the rest of the way. In Sri Lanka even this can be an adventure - the drivers seem to resent stopping to pick up passengers, and much prefer to just slow down. The accepted technique is to run along, and hop into the open door. This can be difficult, especially if you are the second person, and the first doesn't move up quickly enough. However, we both made it on, and to the orphanage.
The first thing we saw were enormous crowds. Despite its somewhat out of the way location, this is a very popular stop. The second thing I noticed was all the white people. I've gotten used to being surrounded by Sri Lankans, used the way the dress, and move and (more or less) used to the way they speak. To suddenly be surrounded by a bunch of light skinned people was... odd. And I didn't expect that. There were also a lot of school groups, great herds of little children all dressed in white (shorts for the boys, skirts for the girls) with the school tie.
Anyway, despite the crowds, there were not that many actually in line to buy a ticket. So we maneuvered our way through the crowds, and got two tickets. Tickets were rs. 100 for Nireshe (about 90 cents) and rs. 2000 (about 18 dollars) for me. At first I was taken aback by the enormous differential, but then I really thought about it. These elephants are Sri Lankan elephants, and to price a ticket for a local at the rate they charge foreigners would mean that most people would be unable to see the elephants. However, the elephants are expensive to look after, and to price a ticket for a foreigner the same as what a local can afford would mean that it would be even more difficult to maintain the operation. So, I guess it's fair. I can afford eighteen bucks, after all, and it is a good cause.
The first thing we did when we walk in was go to the feeding area. This is where they had a couple babies, who they were feeding milk. Tourists could feed the babies as well, but it cost extra. Since we were there just at the end of feeding time, we passed on the extra. Although we didn't feed the babies, we were able to pet them. Yes, I petted a baby elephant. Easily the highlight of the day. Pictures were a bit difficult, as Nireshe was still getting used to my camera, and the baby, in the manner of babies everywhere, refused to stand still and pose. This is the best we could do:
Here's a better picture so you can see the whole of the baby:
The babies are pretty big- almost as tall as I am. They are still tiny compared to the adults. I just couldn't get over the sheer size of these creatures. I've seen all the movies, and all the books, and everything, but they were still just so big...
At the other end of the feeding area was an adult, clearly very old, and clearly not very healthy. They had him (her?) in a sling so that she could stand up. She was enjoying a meal of branches.
After watching the babies for a while, we wandered over to see what the adults looked like. They were feeding in a big field, just over a hill from the babies. There was a big herd of them, there must have been seventy or more (this is not just an estimate- they have about 73 elephants at the orphanage). It was a blazing hot day (always is here), and the elephants looked amazing, especially against the background of the Sri Lankan hills. One of the handlers called me over, and had me pose for a picture with him. They use these enormous poles to herd the elephants.
After watching the adults for a while, our attention was drawn by an elephant who was standing by himself under a cover, off to the side. This (we found out later) was Raja, an elephant that was found in the jungle, having been shot at many times by poachers. Despite this, he was never killed, and he manged to keep his beautiful tusks. This is a picture of Raja, and a picture of Nireshe with Raja. We took one with me and Raja, but it didn't turn out - the sun made it hard to see the camera screen, leading to a picture of me, with no elephant in sight.
Having seen the elephants, we were wondering what to do next. There didn't seem to be any more stations. Over at the feeding place, the babies were gone, and there were some adults hard at work dragging logs around.
We watched this for a while, and then we turned around and saw a magnificent sight - a whole herd of elephants walking through the compound. They were followed by an equally magnificent herd of tourists. We had no idea where they were going, so Nireshe asked- turns out they were heading to the river for a bath. I was shocked at my luck - to see the elephant both fed and in the river! We hurried along at the tail end of the crowd (pun very much intended).
The elephants (and tourists) were led out of the compound, across the road, through the village and down to the water. In the river, the elephants gamboled and the tourists gawked. Some of the elephants laid down in the river, fully submersing themselves. Some would suck up water with their trunks, spraying it over their back (I had no idea they actually did that. I thought it was just a thing in the movies). Some moved straight across the river to the sandy banks on the far shore, and covered themselves with sand. It was pretty amazing - we stayed for an hour just watching them.
After an hour, we had to get going, in order to make it to the college in time for the induction. I was sorry to leave of course- who knows when I will see elephants again?
We caught a bus to the train station, and waited for the train. We were quietly waiting, writing postcards (well, I was anyway), when all of a sudden the platform was invaded by several dozen white clad school children and their various parents and teachers. Nireshe struck up a conversation with a parent, and found out, to our dismay, that they would be on our train.
We had decided to take the train because the views were said to be spectacular. In my mind, I had pictured a slow journey on a nice cool, empty train though the majesty of Sri Lanka. I must have forgotten where I was. Nothing here is ever empty! When the train came, Nireshe and I pushed our way through the waist high crowd, and managed to secure a couple seats facing forward. The rest of the mass of children and parents crammed on as well. The carriage was full - every seat was taken, often by a parent with a child on their lap, and there were many standing as well. The views were magnificent, but pictures were difficult, as you can see:
the two heads in the pictures are the two little boys who stood at the window the whole time. I didn't really mind though - how can you get mad at kids wanting to see their own country? What did bother me was the screaming. Through every tunnel, every kid screamed. For the whole tunnel. It was kind of neat at first - the screams echoed off the tunnel walls and back into the car, making it seem like we were traveling through a Tunnel of the Damned. It was only cool for the first tunnel - after that it was just headache inducing.
Still, this is what travel in Sri Lanka is like: hot, crowded, and by Canadian standards, very slow. There is not really any point in getting mad about it - it is just the way things are.
I'm not in Sri Lanka on holiday. I didn't come here to relax, or see the sights the way most tourists visit. I came to learn, to learn about the church and the people, the rewards and challenges of being an Anglican and a Christian in this country. Of course, every now and then even the most dedicated of cross cultural learners manages a day off to visit an elephant orphanage.
In my case, it worked out very well. I had not been able to go when I was at the college, though it is near by. However, last Friday was the College Day, and the induction of Fr. Jerome as the new principal of TCL. There was a van going from Colombo, so I was able to go along. Fr. Dushantha, who is the parish priest at St. Michael's and one of my supervisors, had the idea to drop me at the orphanage on the way, to the college. I would then take the train to the college, after a few hours with the pachyderms, arriving in plenty of time for the induction.
I didn't go alone. There is a graduated TCL student, Nireshe, who is working at St. Michaels, and he had never seen the orphanage either.
The van dropped us off about six kilometers from the orphanage, and we caught a bus the rest of the way. In Sri Lanka even this can be an adventure - the drivers seem to resent stopping to pick up passengers, and much prefer to just slow down. The accepted technique is to run along, and hop into the open door. This can be difficult, especially if you are the second person, and the first doesn't move up quickly enough. However, we both made it on, and to the orphanage.
The first thing we saw were enormous crowds. Despite its somewhat out of the way location, this is a very popular stop. The second thing I noticed was all the white people. I've gotten used to being surrounded by Sri Lankans, used the way the dress, and move and (more or less) used to the way they speak. To suddenly be surrounded by a bunch of light skinned people was... odd. And I didn't expect that. There were also a lot of school groups, great herds of little children all dressed in white (shorts for the boys, skirts for the girls) with the school tie.
Anyway, despite the crowds, there were not that many actually in line to buy a ticket. So we maneuvered our way through the crowds, and got two tickets. Tickets were rs. 100 for Nireshe (about 90 cents) and rs. 2000 (about 18 dollars) for me. At first I was taken aback by the enormous differential, but then I really thought about it. These elephants are Sri Lankan elephants, and to price a ticket for a local at the rate they charge foreigners would mean that most people would be unable to see the elephants. However, the elephants are expensive to look after, and to price a ticket for a foreigner the same as what a local can afford would mean that it would be even more difficult to maintain the operation. So, I guess it's fair. I can afford eighteen bucks, after all, and it is a good cause.
The first thing we did when we walk in was go to the feeding area. This is where they had a couple babies, who they were feeding milk. Tourists could feed the babies as well, but it cost extra. Since we were there just at the end of feeding time, we passed on the extra. Although we didn't feed the babies, we were able to pet them. Yes, I petted a baby elephant. Easily the highlight of the day. Pictures were a bit difficult, as Nireshe was still getting used to my camera, and the baby, in the manner of babies everywhere, refused to stand still and pose. This is the best we could do:
Here's a better picture so you can see the whole of the baby:
The babies are pretty big- almost as tall as I am. They are still tiny compared to the adults. I just couldn't get over the sheer size of these creatures. I've seen all the movies, and all the books, and everything, but they were still just so big...
At the other end of the feeding area was an adult, clearly very old, and clearly not very healthy. They had him (her?) in a sling so that she could stand up. She was enjoying a meal of branches.
After watching the babies for a while, we wandered over to see what the adults looked like. They were feeding in a big field, just over a hill from the babies. There was a big herd of them, there must have been seventy or more (this is not just an estimate- they have about 73 elephants at the orphanage). It was a blazing hot day (always is here), and the elephants looked amazing, especially against the background of the Sri Lankan hills. One of the handlers called me over, and had me pose for a picture with him. They use these enormous poles to herd the elephants.
After watching the adults for a while, our attention was drawn by an elephant who was standing by himself under a cover, off to the side. This (we found out later) was Raja, an elephant that was found in the jungle, having been shot at many times by poachers. Despite this, he was never killed, and he manged to keep his beautiful tusks. This is a picture of Raja, and a picture of Nireshe with Raja. We took one with me and Raja, but it didn't turn out - the sun made it hard to see the camera screen, leading to a picture of me, with no elephant in sight.
Having seen the elephants, we were wondering what to do next. There didn't seem to be any more stations. Over at the feeding place, the babies were gone, and there were some adults hard at work dragging logs around.
We watched this for a while, and then we turned around and saw a magnificent sight - a whole herd of elephants walking through the compound. They were followed by an equally magnificent herd of tourists. We had no idea where they were going, so Nireshe asked- turns out they were heading to the river for a bath. I was shocked at my luck - to see the elephant both fed and in the river! We hurried along at the tail end of the crowd (pun very much intended).
The elephants (and tourists) were led out of the compound, across the road, through the village and down to the water. In the river, the elephants gamboled and the tourists gawked. Some of the elephants laid down in the river, fully submersing themselves. Some would suck up water with their trunks, spraying it over their back (I had no idea they actually did that. I thought it was just a thing in the movies). Some moved straight across the river to the sandy banks on the far shore, and covered themselves with sand. It was pretty amazing - we stayed for an hour just watching them.
After an hour, we had to get going, in order to make it to the college in time for the induction. I was sorry to leave of course- who knows when I will see elephants again?
We caught a bus to the train station, and waited for the train. We were quietly waiting, writing postcards (well, I was anyway), when all of a sudden the platform was invaded by several dozen white clad school children and their various parents and teachers. Nireshe struck up a conversation with a parent, and found out, to our dismay, that they would be on our train.
We had decided to take the train because the views were said to be spectacular. In my mind, I had pictured a slow journey on a nice cool, empty train though the majesty of Sri Lanka. I must have forgotten where I was. Nothing here is ever empty! When the train came, Nireshe and I pushed our way through the waist high crowd, and managed to secure a couple seats facing forward. The rest of the mass of children and parents crammed on as well. The carriage was full - every seat was taken, often by a parent with a child on their lap, and there were many standing as well. The views were magnificent, but pictures were difficult, as you can see:
the two heads in the pictures are the two little boys who stood at the window the whole time. I didn't really mind though - how can you get mad at kids wanting to see their own country? What did bother me was the screaming. Through every tunnel, every kid screamed. For the whole tunnel. It was kind of neat at first - the screams echoed off the tunnel walls and back into the car, making it seem like we were traveling through a Tunnel of the Damned. It was only cool for the first tunnel - after that it was just headache inducing.
Still, this is what travel in Sri Lanka is like: hot, crowded, and by Canadian standards, very slow. There is not really any point in getting mad about it - it is just the way things are.
Friday, July 2, 2010
The Theological College of Lanka
It's been a quiet two weeks for you, the anxious reader, and I apologize for that. I've been (and am till Saturday) at the Theological College of Lanka, an ecumenical training ground for ministers and teachers of religion. Internet access here is limited at the best of times, and has been more so due to some technical issues at the college. To make it up to you, I'll not write too much, but post some pictures.
The college is on a hillside in the jungle. It's near the town of Kandy, which is the site of the last independant Sri Lankan kingdom, and a heartland of Sinhalese culture. It's hard to get good pictures of the college as a whole, because there is so much jungle in the way! The main classrooms, mess hall and men's dorm is at the top of the hill, and the library half way down, so you look out at the roof of the library from the classrooms. The quarters for the married students and the lecturers are nearer the bottom of the hill, and run up the side of the next hill.
This is a view looking down at the library. You have to walk down about a million steep slippery concrete steps to get there.
The college is an ecumenical one, with four main denominations: Anglican (Church of Ceylon), Methodist, Baptist and Presbyterian. Baptists and Presbyterians are not common in Sri Lanka, and there are none of those students at the moment. There are a couple from the Church of South India, which has a diocse in Jaffna.
This is looking up to the main class room building. There are four classrooms, a larger seminar hall, and a beautiful chapel.
The dorms are pretty basic (well, the men's dorm is. I assume the women's is as well). Basic, but not horrible. There is the standard cement floor (this is common in Sri Lanka), and the whole place is open (also common). There are only cold water showers (common) but the climate here is much cooler than the rest of the country. This is especially noticable at 5:30 in the morning!
This is my room in the hostel - the bed is not as comfortable as it looks.
But I didn't come here for a soft bed or hot water. I came to meet the students, and they are what has made my time here special. They are mostly (but not all) in their twenties. Some are married, and live in housing provided by the college, but most are single. When a person becomes a candidate for ministry here, they are not allowed to marry until they are ordained.
This is me with Pradeep, the secretary of the Student Body.
This is a picture of some of the students having afternoon tea on the verandah of the mess hall.
This is (from left) Sashi, Fr. Stephen (the lecturer in Church History), Newton and Anil. Newton and Anil are both candidates from the diocese of Colombo, and brought me up to the college with them when they returned to school from the long vacation (April-May and half of June)
The college is on a hillside in the jungle. It's near the town of Kandy, which is the site of the last independant Sri Lankan kingdom, and a heartland of Sinhalese culture. It's hard to get good pictures of the college as a whole, because there is so much jungle in the way! The main classrooms, mess hall and men's dorm is at the top of the hill, and the library half way down, so you look out at the roof of the library from the classrooms. The quarters for the married students and the lecturers are nearer the bottom of the hill, and run up the side of the next hill.
This is a view looking down at the library. You have to walk down about a million steep slippery concrete steps to get there.
The college is an ecumenical one, with four main denominations: Anglican (Church of Ceylon), Methodist, Baptist and Presbyterian. Baptists and Presbyterians are not common in Sri Lanka, and there are none of those students at the moment. There are a couple from the Church of South India, which has a diocse in Jaffna.
This is looking up to the main class room building. There are four classrooms, a larger seminar hall, and a beautiful chapel.
The dorms are pretty basic (well, the men's dorm is. I assume the women's is as well). Basic, but not horrible. There is the standard cement floor (this is common in Sri Lanka), and the whole place is open (also common). There are only cold water showers (common) but the climate here is much cooler than the rest of the country. This is especially noticable at 5:30 in the morning!
This is my room in the hostel - the bed is not as comfortable as it looks.
But I didn't come here for a soft bed or hot water. I came to meet the students, and they are what has made my time here special. They are mostly (but not all) in their twenties. Some are married, and live in housing provided by the college, but most are single. When a person becomes a candidate for ministry here, they are not allowed to marry until they are ordained.
This is me with Pradeep, the secretary of the Student Body.
This is a picture of some of the students having afternoon tea on the verandah of the mess hall.
This is (from left) Sashi, Fr. Stephen (the lecturer in Church History), Newton and Anil. Newton and Anil are both candidates from the diocese of Colombo, and brought me up to the college with them when they returned to school from the long vacation (April-May and half of June)
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