Udawalawe - Day 21

Before you ask, the elephant from the lake is still alive. He's been successfully flipped onto his healthier side and locals have reported a lot of movement. Dr. Vijitha tells me this is a promising sign. If you would like your heart even warmer, villagers have begun bringing him hundreds of pounds of fruit from their markets to aid in his recovery. This is an elephant town.

No more milk for you. 

Life is pretty good as Dilmah's project manager thus far. Each morning I'm awoken (though I try to hide this fact)  by Seda, the potter/cook/janitor/repairman at my lodging, who has brought my tea. As I drink the hot sugar water, my anxiety peaks for the day: "Please let there be running water this morning," I think. In the morning there will either be electricity or water. Rarely both, sometimes neither. I (usually) shower, pack up my computer, eat whatever delicious breakfast Seda has prepared, and make my way to the street. Usually waiting for me is Suresh, my three-wheeler driver. Suresh does not let his underdeveloped legs get in the way of industry and chauffeurs me to and from work each day.

The commute. Twice Suresh has allowed me to drive us home.  Suresh has instilled in me the importance of honking the horn when passing anything. 

A healthy portion of my day is spent writing copy for film projects, newsletters, web material, and any other publication project Dilmah can use to publicize its efforts at the Elephant Transit Home. With my boss 150 miles away, I also attend each elephant feeding.

About 1,200 tickets are sold at the Elephant Transit Home a day

at 20 LKR each (about 15 cents). This averages out to 300 viewers per

public feeding. 

awwwwwww.

Yesterday, environmental scientist turned poop-energy entrepreneur, Chanadan of Bio Fuel Lanka, agreed to give me a tour of a biogas plant installation at the Asialine garment factory. He was required for scheduled maintenance of the plant and was happy to take me along and introduce me to the technology. At the site, Chanadan and Asialine's sustainability head, Roshan, proudly turned on the industrial stove burners powered by compressed methane. By simply pouring the food waste from the kitchen into the digester each day, anaerobic chemical processes produced enough gas to cook hundreds of liters of rice and dal for the employees. As a bonus, Roshan took me on a tour of the clothing factory. Asialine is a massive Sri Lankan enterprise and exports garments to several major clothing companies in the UK and US. More impressive than the gargantuan washing, cutting, and compressing machinery, was the module floor. In an acre-sized room, 1,400 women sat over sewing machines. The combination of the women's bright pink and white uniforms and the overpowering fluorescent ceiling lights rendered a lot of visual information to digest. Roshan was unfazed however, and regaled Chanadan and me with such anecdotes as "If a sewing needle is broken from a machine and lost, the employees have one hour to find it. If it is not located, every garment on the floor is disposed of. We do not want someone pulling on a pair of pants with a needle in it." I'm afraid photography was prohibited.

After the tour, Chanadan and I stopped by the Elephant Transit Home to pursue the feasibility of a biogas plant at the Home, powered by elephant dung, to boil water for the animals' milk. I introduced him to Dr. Vijitha and, after scouting potential locations and reviewing the facilities' requirements, Chanadan was optimistic. It is now a matter of price, a discussion that takes place above my pay grade.

Thank you for your patience. Here are some baby elephant photos:

Less cute, but bonus for exposed tusks. 

Udawalawe - Day 14

After a wonderful day of eating and napping with Asanka's family in central Sri Lanka for New Years, Asanka and I began our way back to Colombo. We drove 3 hours through storms and the dark, passing no fewer than 5 car accidents ranging from minor to fatal. Despite the ominous feeling conveyed from the wrecks and the lightning, Asanka was blasting Paul Simon and the Police the whole way back, so it was hard to feel too dispirited.

There are certain sweets that, I'm told, one can only find during the weeks surrounding New Years. As that's the only time I've been here, I eat a lot of these things. Obviously, they're delicious. 

When we got back, Asanka received a phone call from Dr. Vijitha Perera, the chief veterinarian at Udawalawe. He asked if he could get a ride the next day. Asanka was happy to oblige as it just meant pushing my arrival date up a day early. We picked up Doctor V (as I hope to someday call him) at 7:00 am and then drove straight to his mother's house. As it was the beginning of the new Sinhala year and Vijitha's observes Buddhist customs, we needed to be anointed with traditional oils before our departure. One by one we sat staring at a single candle while Vijitha's mother spoke prayers and rubbed various lubricants on our temples. Probably nothing to it but I was certainly ready to seize the day after the ritual.

The Abayakoon clan! Left to right is Asanka's father, mother, Asanka, and his uncle.  

Asanka velcro'd up the old back brace and we began the 2.5 hour journey to my new hometown. Upon my arrival, I got a quick tour and met some of the staff. I also met Ajed, master potter and my landlord. He and his students provide the products that will be sold in the souvenir shop I'm tasked with setting up. Most importantly, I was introduced to the calves. Ranging from 1-5, the elephants at ETH were gathering, anticipating their 12:00 feeding. Two-by-two the calves were permitted into the corral for milk, much to the delight of the 300 people assembled to watch. After drinking, one came over to where we were watching and took in my peculiar white boy stench. Even though he was only about four, he'd accumulated a couple thousand pounds. I'll grab some photos of the calves int he next couple days.
After some lunch, Asanka, Ajed, Dr. Vijitha and his intern, Mallek, and I drove to a site where an elephant was being monitored.

The 25 year old bull was lying on his side on the bottom of a pond outside the national park. One could see the side of his torso and hip protruding from the water. I thought they were rocks until I saw his trunk surface for air - this happened every 15 seconds or so. According to Vijitha, the bull had been hit twice from a shotgun blast in the back. Poachers often rig up shotgun-snares for wild boars but elephants occasionally set them off. Vijitha feared one bullet had broken the right femur. When an elephant sustains an injury this serious, he will seek out deep water to reduce pressure on himself and cool down. Apparently this bull had been here for a day already.

As the staff fed the disembodied trunk banana stocks, Vijitha and Mallek waded into the waist-deep water and attached an IV bag to a makeshift stand made from a branch planted in the pond bottom. They injected antibiotics around the entry points and stuck the IV into his ear - the thinnest skin on an elephant with veins easily discernible. After 4 bags of fluid and as many hours, Vijitha decided it was time to try to move the elephant.

Here, Mallek is putting the IV into the elephant's ear. The guy in green is holding banana stocks to hand the trunk as soon as it surfaces. 

From the injured leg and the angle he was lying at, the elephant would have no chance of getting up on his own in his current position. Ideally, he would be flipped so his right legs would be on the bottom and his body closer to short to provide leverage, Vijitha told me.

Speaks for itself. 

Therefore, no longer needed for war, the Sri Lanka Air Force was recruited to help move the animal. About thirty young men showed up and were given two ropes - each about four inches in diameter. For the next couple hours, the dedicated group knotted, roped, pulled, twisted, and walked the elephant in an effort to flip him. Flipping an elephant who does not want to be flipped is not only difficult, but dangerous. 250 lb legs flailed at them as they tried to secure them. Putting a pin the in the flipping, the team switched gears and attempted to pull the elephant towards the banks of the pond. This was much easier and they had him in two feet of water quickly. At this point, Asanka volunteered his Toyota Land Cruiser for the job. One of the ropes was hooked to the back of the truck while the Air Force held the other. Both opposite ends were tied to the legs of the elephant on the far side of his body. Unfortunately, the ropes kept slipping to the side and eventually, led by Vijitha, the team surrendered. Not entirely in vain, the elephant was deposited far up on the beach and might be able to roll onto his feet in the next day or two. The exhausted elephant gratefully received hundreds of pounds of grass put in and around his mouth and one last round of antibiotics was given. Vijitha's prognosis is grim, but they gave him a fighting chance. We'll know if the elephant will live by Wednesday.

Tired and hungry, the big guy's been through a lot. Hopefully he can pull through. 

Colombo - Too lazy to figure out what day it is.

Happy Sinhala Tamil New Year!

It's New Years day according to the traditional calendar here in Sri Lanka and Asanka and I will soon make our way 100 km into the center of the island to celebrate with his family in his hometown.

This holiday and the week leading up to it are the reason I am not at my worksite in Udawalawe yet - Asanka did not anticipate the New Years when he scheduled my original date of deployment. Had I been dropped off a week ago into the fundamentalist Sinhala south, I would have starved as every shop, kitchen, and grocery store were closed.

That said, I'm glad I've had more time in the capitol. After all, I'd be kicking myself if I missed the earthquake. But natural disasters don't cover all the highlights of the last few days:

Early in the week, Asanka and I delayed getting into the office to drive from university, to police station, to bank. At each stop, Asanka would grab an envelope and (of course) some Dilmah Tea and present it to each respective security guard. In Sinhala, he would ask the guard to give it to the powers that be and tell them "Thank you" from Asanka.

Asanka explained that these were very influential people, and it was a good idea to stay in their good graces. I couldn't help inquiring as to what role the police chief played in Dilmah Tea's world. Asanka put my worries to rest: "Oh, he's just and old friend. And, he can help whenever someone at Dilmah gets into trouble."I'm learning a lot.

On earthquake day, after our cricket and beer session, I was prepared to hit my usual bedtime of 10:00. Asanka informed me, however, that tonight I would get my first Colombo nightclub experience and we'd be leaving in an hour. One of the exciting things about living with Asanka is I have no notice for anything. We hopped in the company land cruiser and, after stopping for some late-night fish noodles, picked up Asanka's wingman, Murali. Murali is a helicopter and fixed-wing pilot who lived in the US for 11 years. He's worked in LA and Daytona (and is an avid Nascar fan). He is also ridiculous. That is to say, he appreciates the fairer sex and will not hesitate to voice his opinions on the subject.

The club is wild. With each passing hour, it only becomes more crowded. It is similar to a western discotheque with two main distinctions. 1) No age limit here - There are as many 40+'s as under 30's and they are all cutting a rug. 2) Men have no qualms about dancing by themselves or with their guy friends. Its all about the dancing and the assumed courting aspect of western nightclubs does not hold true. Oh, and I guess 3), there's Australian prostitutes around - but they seem nice.

Once it seems no more bodies can fit into the place, Murali and Asanka come to a consensus straight out of Swingers: "We'll need to bring you back some other time - this place is dead."

On thursday, Asanka briefs me on my expectations at the Elephant Transit Home (ETH):

1) Oversee installation of biogas plant (converting elephant dung into methane) and solar heater. These systems will work in tandem to boil water for elephant formula. If the water is not boiled, you'll have 40 baby elephants with diarrhea. Not great.
2) Get a merchandise store up and running. Product will be supplied by a local ceramics co-op (which will receive half of store revenue).
3) Survey trees and vegetation, teach english to local students, maintain website, generate copy for newsletters, keep weekly reports, oversee various repairs as needed, establish first Sri Lanka national park campsite/develop site rental program,....the list goes on.

Okay - off to Asanka's childhood home - thank you for your photo patience!

Special Earthquake Edition!

Happy to satisfy the bloodlust of my readership, I'll  give my relatively anticlimactic earthquake account. At around 2:00, Asanka and I were eating another delicious meal in the Dilmah cafeteria when my chair started wobbling. Now, these are wobbly chairs, so it took a little while to register. Eventually I asked Asanka if he felt anything. I stood up and concentrated, staring at the ground: "This is definitely an earthquake, Asanka," I said, and I looked up at him. The selfless employer that he is, Asanka was already sprinting down the stairs from our 2nd story table. Not particularly reassuring but by the time the office had emptied into the parking lot, there was a (mostly) light-hearted atmosphere.

One of the more shaken up (no pun intended) employees explained he was on Google Earth when the tremor began. I joked: "You didn't click, did you?!" This was not well-received, presumably because of the language barrier, not that it wasn't funny. That is funny.

After a few minutes, the rumbling subsided and Asanka and I finished our meals. Though Colombo is on the western side of Sri Lanka, the potential for a tsunami was on everyone's mind. Asanka would have none of it though and we left the office early to do the only rational thing it times of disaster: buy beer. This was an easier errand than normal as most traffic was competing to leave Colombo for higher, more inland areas. In the grocery store, Sri Lanka news anchors on a big screen TV assured us that the tsunami alert was lifted for Sri Lanka.

Asanka and I are now safe and sound watching cricket and drinking Lion Lager.

Day 5 - Colombo

Apologize for IPhone quality photos - Going to buy my camera-to-comp cord today. Here I am flying over western Saudi Arabia before landing in Qatar.  

It is Sunday afternoon and another beautiful day in Colombo: high of 88, low of 79 and 60% chance of rain (this has been forecast for each day I've been here)

This "weather" has not discouraged me however. I do not know if I'll spend much time in urban Sri Lanka so I must make the most of it. On Good Friday night, after Asanka dropped me off at my homestay, I ventured out to find a restaurant my coworkers recommended, Summer Garden. I couldn't find it, got lost, made it home, and ate a bagel I'd saved from the plane.

Buddha chillin outside museum under massive tree. 

The next day, emboldened by sunlight and an 8 hour window to make it back, I asked Auntie for fresh directions to Summer Garden for lunch. "Oh, you went there last night, yes? Today try Cafe 5 - just go right, then left, then through the roundabout and its on the right. Everyone knows it." Too ashamed to correct Auntie that I had actually failed at eating, I left for Cafe 5. I followed the directions to a T. And yet, there I was, 45 minutes later, walking the busy streets of Colombo searching desperately for this cafe "on the right." Doubling back, trying to re-interpret Auntie's directions, things were looking grim. I think I startled a police officer when I approached him with my soaked, scarlet face and asked if he knew Cafe 5. He did not. Utterly defeated, I almost convinced myself I wasn't hungry and began walking back. Maybe 6 minutes from Auntie's, I saw it. Auntie did not mean go through the roundabout and find it on the right, she meant: go right at the roundabout. There was 5th lane, and, just down it, Cafe 5. I was perfectly happy and disgusting looking as I ordered my fish cakes.

Upon my triumphant return, I sat and watched cricket with Auntie. England was playing the 2nd of its 2 game series against Sri Lanka, in Sri Lanka. Cricket is serious here - it's the national sport and Sri Lanka has placed 3 times in the last 5 world cups. I quickly picked up the basics from google/Auntie and became far too attached given I learned the rules that day. Though not easy to make out through Auntie's modest television, I could see that the grandstand was entirely filled with Brits. Auntie explained that tickets were 40 pounds each - prohibitively expensive for most Sri Lankans. The commentators told us that 8,000 england supporters had traveled to watch the match.

Chameleon wondering how things could have been different. 

On Easter Sunday, Auntie left for a funeral in the south and I was left to entertain myself. I left early and went to the National Museum. I forced myself to appreciate ancient buddhas and Sri Lanka's irrigation history but after two hours, convinced I'd satisfied my cultural obligation, I practically skipped to the nearby Natural History Museum. This was the only museum I'd been to with animal exhibits exclusively comprised of organisms in ethanol jars. I was the only one there, the lights weren't working - it was perfectly creepy. Afterwards, I grabbed lunch at an Indian coffee place and made it home shortly before Auntie's return. One more day till Udawalawe!

Day 1: Colombo

Hopefully this will not be my only post - I am as new to blogging as I am to Sri Lanka and I hope I can show some discipline. It is 4:30 pm on the US East coast which means it is 2:00 am here. I am awake because I accidentally fell asleep at 6:45 tonight - a feat I owe partially to jet lag but mostly to the takeout feast my boss bought me on the way home from the office today. 

For those doubting my dedication, here's what I left behind in DC. Also my girlfriend, but I don't think she wants to be pictured in the blog.  

Auntie's 18' ceiling living room. Not too shabby and lots of wild artwork. 

Upon arrival in Colombo approximately 23 hours ago I got my bags and met up with my boss's driver who, I'm proud to say, was holding the largest name placard in the mob of drivers. I got into the land cruiser and began what I imagine will be perpetual perspiration for the next year. The best way I can explain the driving in Colombo is that it's like a constant race involving every car, tooka-tooka (sp.? - a 3-wheeled, covered vehicle that is named for the choking sounds of its engine), motorcycle, bicycle, man, woman, and child. It is as if everyone is so excited about their paved country capitol that they need to make the most of it. My fear has quickly converted into excitement only because of the confidence my chauffeurs display as they weave through on-coming traffic, narrowly avoiding sudden death and elderly pedestrians by inches. Disobeying traffic laws is not a problem, explained one driver: "Bribes are only $4.00."

My Colombo bedroom. Also, that's what a year's worth of stuff looks like. 

After briefly meeting my boss, Asanka Abayakoon - director of Dilmah Tea's Conservation arm - I was dropped off at my temporary lodging before I leave for my Udawalawe home. The home is in district 7, the most elite of the 15-16 (even Asanka wasn't sure) districts of Colombo and belongs to Auntie. Her actual name is Merret but she is older, accommodating, and likely many people's aunt. She used to work for the largest bank in Sri Lanka as well as some in Germany and allows old friends (like Asanka) to leave expat newbies under her care until they ship out to their work station. She makes my breakfast and tells me about how doomed the world economy is.  

View of patio from living room.

After 3 hours of sleep/wondering why they even have blankets in this country, Asanka picked me up from Auntie's and took me to the Dilmah office. Asanka makes an effort to pump cold air around me at all times. Judging by how long it took for him to find the remote for his office air conditioner, it seems he hasn't needed to use it for a while. The first day I meet a lot of incredibly friendly (not just civil, but really friendly) Sri Lankan Dilmah employees. I do as much work as I can think of and read last years annual report. Eventually we go home, Asanka gets me that amazing take-out, and here I am writing a blog post that I can't actually upload until I have internet. I'll also try to throw in some photos soon.