Economics

This post is dedicated to Dad, who is always interested in how much things cost

Living in Canada, I'm always sort of peripherally aware that it is a rich country, and that I am, in comparison to the rest of the world, very wealthy indeed. However, this is usually buried underneath the worries on how I'm going to pay my rent or tuition. I never really thought about how much my dollar can buy in the world. Most of (ok, all of) the traveling I've done has been in the USA, UK or Europe, where the dollar does not match up very well. I guess if I thought about it, I would have said that compared to the world, I was even poorer than I thought!

Then I came to Sri Lanka. In Sri Lanka, the Canadian dollar buys 110 Sri Lankan Rupees. I was reading the classified ads and want ads in the English language paper the other day (this is Dad's influence) and I took some pictures to give you a sense of how the economy works here. First up: a want ad. This is an ad for a housemaid working overseas. Many Sri Lankans take jobs like these, going out of the country for a few years so that the family at home can survive. As with all migrant workers, they are often abused. But look for the moment at the wage -that's monthly. To save you the math, that works out at the current exchange to about $190.07. Monthly.



"OK" you say "so they don't make very much- but the cost of living is pretty low as well, right?"

Well, that's partly true. You can live on that salary - It's about what most of the clergy here make. It's a wage that you could afford to live on, but just barely. What you couldn't afford are the things that Canadians take for granted. Take a look at this car ad:


Yep, ten million rupees. That works out to 90,484.34. I mean, sure it's a nice car, but not for that price!

This is how Sri Lanka works. The basic wage for the working person is low. Very very low. However, those that have money, tend to have a lot. The split between the rich and the poor is enormous here, and can be easily seen just by watching the road - who is driving a twenty year old motorcycle, and who is driving that Toyota?

And just in case you thought the Toyota was a lone example, here's another car ad:

This is Jaffna

Along the main street in the northern seaside town of Jaffa is small shrine set up beside an old stone church. These shrines are not uncommon, whether along the roadside or beside a church, they are regular sights in any area of Sri Lanka where there is a strong Catholic presence. Usually consisting of a lighted glass case with a statue of the saint inside, they offer a place for the devout to stop and pray as they go about their day. What makes this shrine unusual is that is has been erected beside an Anglican church. And the Anglicans had nothing to do with it.

For thirty years Sri Lanka was wracked by civil war. The war has had many definitions from many people: a struggle for freedom, for a homeland, against racist oppressors, a terrorist action, unjust, barbaric, unjustified. The war took place mostly in the north and east of the country, along the Jaffna Peninsula and the region just to the south of the peninsula, knowns as the Vanni. As with most wars, territorial gains swung back and forth between the government forces and the LTTE (the Tamil Tigers). The civilians were always the losers in this back and forth of territory.

The town of Jaffna is the most significant center in the north. A center of learning before the war, the standards of education in Jaffna were recognized throughout the country, with Jaffna school papers and exams being used for student preparation nation wide.

Jaffna was also subject to the conquest and re-conquest that were a part of the war. The town was captured by the LTTE in 1990, and re-taken by the government forces in 1995. The town was never captured without a long fight, which involved a significant amount of collateral damage. There were many houses and businesses inadvertently destroyed by the repeated shelling.

One of the buildings that was severely damaged in the battles was an Anglican church - Christ Church, Jaffna. Formerly the High Church of Jaffna, during the fighting the building reverted to one of the most ancient functions of a church building- being a place of sanctuary. citizens from the surrounding community would gather in the church during the worst times, in the faithful belief that such a holy place would be safe from the shells.

One night, as the masses were huddled in the church, desperately praying for their safety, two shells fell on the church. Two shells fell, and neither exploded, nothing short of a miracle. The surrounding community banded together and built the shrine that can still be seen outside the church. People who were there on that fateful night still come regularly and pray at the shrine.

Although no one was killed, the damage to the interior of the church from later fighting was severe. Several windows were blown out, the walls became pockmarked with bullet holes and shell fragments. Much of the roof was destroyed, as were the parish hall,and the mission house adjacent to the church.

The war has been over for a little more than a year now. The LTTE were defeated in a decisive military action, and peace has come to Sri Lanka. The people of Jaffna are beginning to put together the pieces of lives shattered by war, or perhaps more accurately, are learning to live in a time of peace. Thirty years is a long time, a whole generation. A state of peace is something new here.

One of the people most dedicated to this new peaceful way of life if Fr. Nesakumar, the Anglican Archdeacon of Jaffna and rector of St. John the Baptist. Fr. Nesakumar has big plans for Christ Church, Jaffna. The Diocese has already repaired the outside of the church, but the inside remains scarred by war. Shell marks and bullet holes still pock the walls. In one niche the head of a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary still keeps watch over the church.

The plan for the inside is to repair the small side chapel, with wooden carving behind the altar depicting Jaffna as it was before the shelling. The nave of the church will remain unrepaired, and will become a center for peace. The plan, which is already beginning, is to hold conferences and workshops about peace in the middle of this battle scarred building.

Recently some school children from the south of Sri Lanka were visiting Christ Church. "This is Jaffna" they said. "It's painted and repaired on the outside, but the inside is broken and scarred".

As Christians we know that the church is the people, not the building. However, it is true that our building are reflections of who we are as a community. Christ Church, Jaffna, reflects the scars and wounds of the people of Jaffna, it reflects their work at rebuilding their town and their lives, and it reflects their deep desire for a lasting peace, and an end to war. Truly, this is Jaffna.

Sunday School

As soon as I used the word "context" I knew I was in trouble. I was speaking to a group of Sunday School children (4-18 years old), for most of whom English was a second language. Here I was telling them that I was happy to see Anglicanism and Christianity in a new context...

I was at St. Luke Borella on Sunday. This was a bit of a last minute trip, as I had hoped to head down south to Galle, but a number of factors made that not work out. So, late on Saturday night, I was told to go to St. Luke's. The trouble with last minute visits is that no one is really prepared- not me, not the priest. After the first service (7:15, Sinhala), I was asked to go see the Sunday School. Even after being here for a month, I really thought that I would just be watching, seeing what they do.

I headed over to the parish hall with one of the Wardens, Asoka (who is also my friendly 3-wheeler driver). We entered the dimly lit hall, and I could see a cluster of fifty or sixty children on folding chairs, an overhead projector, with chorus projected on screen. Quite like my own Sunday School, really. Quite like what I remember, except the five piece band to accompany the chorus. A five piece band (including a violin) and three singers to boot. This was Sunday School done seriously!

A woman came rushing up to us as we came in. Asoka introduced her to me as the leader of the Sunday School. I smiled, and was polite. She asked me to say a few words. And that is how I ended up telling this group of children that I was enjoying seeing things in a new context.

Who really likes the word "context" anyway? Aside from theological students, of course. For us, its essential. For the rest of the world? Less so. For kids? Not at all.

I awkwardly made my exit, and joined in singing the choruses. The band was really quite good.

Sunday School here is a serious thing. They have a curriculum (produced by the National Council of Churches), which includes exams. Actual exams. Attendance in Sunday School is considered imperative for Christian kids who want to get into the best schools, and so attendance to the Sunday Schools are limited to the children of people who actually worship at the church. You're not allowed to just send your kids. Since Sunday School is usually after church (or before, but never during a service), many churches also have classes for the parents waiting for the kids. And the parents go.

Tea Plantations

This is my second post of the day, so look below for some pictures of my trip.

Have you ever wondered where tea comes from? Me either. I mean, it's just there in the store, not looking very exotic or interesting, neatly packaged in little bags. Add one bag to some warmish water, and drink when coffee isn't available. I mean, coffee, there's a story! Starbucks has made sure we think about coffee, the fair trade people have made sure we ask where coffee comes from. But tea? I never gave it a thought.

I never gave it a thought until I was in tea country. Tea country is up country, in Sri Lanka, around Bandarawella and Nuwera Eliya. The hills there (and it's all hills)are covered with tea bushes, thick, hedge like bushes about waist height.

The tea is plucked (always plucked as two leaves and a bud together, sometimes three leaves and a bud) by Tamil workers. It's mostly women who do the plucking, and you can see them wandering through the fields with enormous baskets on their backs, dressed in bright colours, plucking the tea. They don't get paid very much for it, and don't live in very nice quarters either.

Once plucked, the tea has to be withered- dried out. Most of the moisture needs to be removed, but how this is done is important. The older factories use natural methods, the more modern factories blow hot air. Either way, the leaves are left overnight to wither.

The next morning they are poured into a machine that cuts and grinds the tea leaves. Then they are left in piles to ferment. This is the part I was surprised about - that tea is fermented. Anyway, it ferments for just the right amount of time (no one would say what that is - a trade secret I guess), and then put into a drying machine, which finishes the fermenting and does the last of the drying.

From there it's mostly sorting. There are various grades, from Orange Pekoe tea, which is high quality, to the dust which is the lowest quality. Then it is packed up, and shipped overseas.

I didn't ask about when it gets put in the little bags. People here take their tea seriously, and don't seem to think much of tea bags. The people at the factory I toured take tea really seriously, taking all the fun out of it, as only connoisseurs can. If you've ever met a connoisseur, whether of coffee, beer, wine or anything, you know that all their talk about flavour and quality takes away from the simple fact that those drinks are just delicious!

Pictures!

Well, I have a little time, and a computer, so here are a few more pictures of my time!

This is another in my series on Anglican Churches and Palm Trees - I just can't get enough! This is Christ Church, Kotte (Kotte is a suburb of Colombo)


This is my supervisor, the Rev. Dr. Jayasiri Peiris. He is also the vicar at Christ Church Kotte. Notice that he is not wearing a white cassock, but rather the Sri Lankan National Dress (white sarong with a white tunic on top)


This is a view of life from a 3-wheeler, the small independent taxis that you see all over the streets of Sri Lanka. What the picture doesn't convey is the bumpy roads, the choking exhaust and the near misses from buses. Better than a motorcycle though.

Flooding

During the first two weeks of May, it rained a lot here in Colombo, the capital city. This was not the monsoon, but a pre-monsoon downpour that lasted for days. Owing to a number of factors, including new construction and blocked drains, the unexpected rain caused great amounts of flooding in some areas of the city. This weekend, I had the chance to go visit a family that had been flooded.

I was going with a group from St. Michael and All Angels Anglican church. The flood victims were members of the church, and a delegation was going to check in on them, and see what practical help the church could offer in re-building or repairing the damage.

Our air conditioned SUV pulled up to the top a steep hill. Clearly it would be asking for trouble to head down a hill like that, four wheel drive or not. As we got out of the truck, the humid warm air hit me like a wall. It's always hot and humid in Sri Lanka, but there was something else to the air here, outside the city. The stink of dirt and garbage was gone from the air, and was replaced by a vegetable scent, the smell of a thousand years of trees living and dying.

We carefully made our way down the hill. The house we were looking for was a small two storey house right at the bottom of the hill. There was a man wearing only a sarong standing beside the house, wiping off plastic lawn chairs. Father Dushantha stopped me as we reached the bottom the hill, and pointed out the high water mark on the house. It was about five and a half feet off the ground.

The man greeted us, and carefully laid out boards for us to walk on for the last few slippery feet of hill. The house was still surrounded on three sides by water, and beyond the house was the remains of a road, leading right into the impromptu lake. One of the trees next to the house boasted a swing, it's seat just a few inches above the water.

Inside the house, the owners showed us the kitchen. The smell of mildew was everywhere as she sadly opened the cupboards and showed us how even now the dishes in the cupboards were all filled with water. While the water had receded below the level of the foundation, the slightly lower outbuildings just behind the kitchen still swam in half a foot of water. In the living area, a ceiling fan labored mightily to dry out the room.

There were two small children as part of the extended family that owns this house. We were shown their legs and chests, covered with sores from the dirty water. In a tropical climate like this one, standing water is a standing invitation for disease.

Outside the house again, we discussed solutions. Maybe they could live only in the top half of the house - use the lower level for storage. Nothing was said about what the family might think of having their living spaced halved.

On our way back up the hill, I was talking to one of the group. "It's a shame" he said "this is terrible. They have paved and built all over the lowlands, so when the water does rise, it has to affect someone. It's the poorest people who live in these areas - the rich and well off have houses on the hills, but the poor are relegated to the valleys, and so they are the first to be flooded."

The water is receding for now, but it will come again. A combination of poor urban planning and global climate change makes this a virtual certainty. And, as my friend pointed out to me, it will be the poor who feel the effects of these things first.