Being semi-retired has its blessings and agony. I do have more time to what I want to do, but do not have many exciting things to do. I get bored easily, and it is painful. During one of these agonising moments, I received an offer from the Sri Lankan Airlines, offering a return ticket from Australia to Sri Lanka for a dollar. As always, there are caveats. I need to pay the taxes, buy a return ticket from Sydney to Melbourne and surrender 10,000 frequent flyer miles. The third one is easy, I had no plans for the frequent flyer points, and the first two cost me 480 AUD. In summary, get a return ticket to Colombo for about 40% of the going market price. Not bad after all. My wife grudgingly approved my travel, and I found a week when I did not have any commitments as a consultant. So, I hit the road; I mean the skies.
The travel took about 20 hours door to door in total; for a Melbournian, it would have been 15 hours the most. It was the first time, I envied the Melbournians, but once I thought of Melbourne’s weather, I was happy to be a Sydney Sider.
My experience with the Australian Border Security at Melbourne airport was not great. The person, who was brushing for traces of drugs, used the same filter-paper for three people, including me. I had no idea who the other two were. I made an inconsequential protest, which he did not like. He said he was trying to be efficient, and 99.99% of the travellers are traces-free. I smiled and moved on. The next thing I know was another officer, walked straight to me, and pulled me from the queue for a body scan. He was rude for Australian standards of etiquettes, and probably suited for a security guard at an airport in Saudi Arabia. Well, there was nothing to be found on me, and he felt that he had settled the score on behalf of his lazy mate.
The flight on Sri Lankan airlines was okay – nothing to brag about. The staff were courteous, food was average, some of the electronics in the plane were not working, and there was a urine stench in toilets. But the flight was half empty, which is a rare thing in flights out of Sydney.
I spent the first day catching up with my friends at my former employer; it was nice to be received friendly after 3.5 years. It is the organisation I worked for seven years, which took me to many parts of the world, and introduced me to several cultures. I reminisced the good old days with my friends, who are also now getting old.
Now, looking for something to do. I wanted to do things I haven’t done before. The Eastern Province of Sri Lanka is largely Tamil (my mother-tongue) speaking area, and I knew very little. I went to one of its major cities Batticaloa, in 1979, and to the other, Trincomalee, in 1997. So, it became the candidate for me to do anything.
I took a train from Colombo to Vaalaichenai, the train station near the world famous Pasikudah beach. I had a reserved seat in second class, but the train was not crowded. In fact, one of the 3rd class compartments was completely empty. It was very different to the days I travelled by train in Sri Lanka in the Seventies. I had hung holding onto the train and travelled between stations before I could get in, find a place under seats to spread newspaper and sleep for the remainder of the journey. When I reach my destination, my shirts and pants will be full of grime. Now, the empty compartments. I guess people prefer road travel, which gives them better flexibility and comfort. The travel was very rocky. I felt all my bones were being displaced as the train sped, or crawled to a halt. My attempt to read a book was futile.
But, the train was moving to schedule – something that did not happen in the Seventies. Hawkers were selling savoury snacks, gingelly candies, and fresh produce. As the train moved from urbanised areas through forested areas, fresh produce was on sale. Mangoes, wood apple, corn and so on. I tried some savoury snacks, a steamed cake (Alampi), and a semi-ripe mango, sliced and sprinkled with a mix of chilly and salt powder. That was yum and reminded a common snack when I was kid growing in Jaffna.
Finding a guest house was not difficult at Pasikudah. The Auto driver spoke Tamil with beautiful Batticaloa accent. He took me to a guest house; I did not like, the owner called another and recommended I go there, we went there. The second place had a room only for a night, but I wanted for two. So, the second owner called the third guesthouse and checked if rooms are available for two nights, and they were. The auto guy took me to the third one; I wanted to see the rooms, they were clean, we agreed on a price, and I decided to stay. The hoteliers (Guest-House-liers?), were looking after each other. I am sure the Auto driver would have got his commission. He gave me his phone number and asked me to call him if I wanted to go anywhere.
The Guesthouse I stayed was in Kalkudah, about 100 m from the Kalkudah Beach, and a kilometre from Pasikudah beach. Both at walking distances, but differed significantly. Kudah in Tamil means a gulf. Pasikudah has a coral beach – no sands, so the hoteliers have trucked in sands to welcome the westerners. It has a shallow pool for swimmers, but full of algae and sea-weeds, known in Tamil as Pasi. During the rainy season, a river discharge near these Kudahs. This makes the water murky, especially in the shallow Pasikudah. Corals and fish are not visible during rainy season. Kalkudah beach, on the other hand, has beautiful sands, but the sea floor is steep, so it gets neck-deep within 15 m from the coast. Because of the depth and active waves, the water remains clear. The day I went to this beach, there were only five people. It was just empty. For good swimmers looking to get lost in nature, it’s an ideal place to be.
The Guesthouse I stayed had only three rooms; all were occupied when I was there. It was run by two women, likely to be in their thirties. They offer home cooked food for their guests. This is important because there are no restaurants to eat out, except those in hotels. The ladies were efficient, friendly but maintain a respectable distance from the guests. The guest house had a long veranda for the guest to enjoy the sea breeze. I liked it very much, spent hours idling there. Unfortunately, there are scrublands between the veranda and the sea, which conceal the sea view. I am sure that the scrubland will be cleared, and a hotel will be built shortly.
During off-season, both Kudahs have no active life. I felt there were more stray dogs and cattle than people in this part of the world. There are scars of the civil war with LTTE, and the mayhem wreaked by the Tsunami. There’s also gratitude to the Government for being looked after both. An Australian Government sponsored poster warned people-smugglers and attempts against illegal entry to Australia.
I walked from one end of Pasikudah beach to the other, a distance of about 2 km, to reach a small landing site for local fishermen. There were about 20 boats there, all in good condition, an indicator of Government subsidies and/or thriving business. It is probably the smallest fish landing site I have ever been. An auctioneer seems to be in charge of the site, and the bidders purchased fish for retailing elsewhere. I arrived together with a boat with Spanish mackerel. An old balance was used to weigh fish, and the weight-measures were rusted and worn. Despite much technological advancement in daily life in many parts of Sri Lanka, this landing site has not adopted any of them. It could do with an electronic balance, the least. The auctioneer’s assistant weighed two or three fish at a time. I did a quick count of fish on the floor and estimated that the pile is about 50 kilos. The Weighing Man declared it was fifty-two kilos. I was very happy with my assessment ability. There were only two bidders for the pile, the first offered LKR300 per kg (1.95 USD), then next offered LKR320 (2.08 USD) per kg, and the sale was sealed.
No longer having anything more to do at the Kudahs, I travelled to Trincomalee by bus. The bus was painted in and out, with cartoon characters from the movie Madagascar. Not sure what the fascination was. Several speakers were blaring Tamil movie songs of the eighties and nineties. It was intolerable at the beginning, but my ears settled down and even started to enjoy some of the songs I recognised. The journey took 2.5 hours (About 30 years ago, it took more than 8 hours), thanks to a new road connecting Batticaloa and Trincomalee. The road network in Sri Lanka is very good, and all credit goes to the ex-President, Mahinda Rajapaksa. He remains immensely popular, and it appears he will win the next elections if he chooses to compete.
Demography of Trincomalee is unique in Sri Lanka. It has all three ethnic communities, Tamil, Muslim and Sinhala communities in significant numbers. Only other district similar to Trincomalee is the Capital District, Colombo. Tamils used to be the majority in the sixties, but, emigration of Tamils and higher birth rates among Muslims have made Muslims the majority community in 2007.
P
I was keen to visit the Koneswaram Temple, originally built in 205 B.C. It’s a temple for Lord Shiva, and over the centuries, occasionally referred to in Tamil Hindu Literature, mostly by South Indian Saints. It was destroyed by Portuguese and rebuilt during the 17th century. One of statues of Lord Nandi belonging to the 7th Century was found very recently in 2013, during some excavation works. There may be still be others still buried.
Koneswaram reminded the obvious fact that that religion and language are different from each other. Unfortunately in Sri Lanka, whenever communal riots occurred, mobs identified Buddhism with Sinhalese and Hinduism with Tamils. Consequently, places of worship of both religions were attacked and robbed. I doubt that will occur in future. I have witnessed scores of Sinhala disciples at Hindu Temples, and Tamil disciples in Buddhist temples in recent years. The day I went to Koneswaram, almost every disciple at the Temple was Sinhalese.
I also went to Swami Lakshmi Narayan Temple, a very recent one at Trincomalee. The Swami Lakshmi Narayan Sect, originated in Gujarat, has been building very beautiful temples all over the world. I am fortunate to visit their oldest temple in Gujarat, their largest temple near-Delhi, and the one in Trincomalee. It’s a Temple for Vishnu, the Hindu God for Protection (Brahma is the God for Creation and Shiva is the God for Destruction). I also think the Temple in Trincomalee will be the second largest Hindu Temple in Sri Lanka in size, second only to the Murugan Temple at Nallur, Jaffna. Another attraction at Trincomalee is the Kanniya Hot springs. This site has archaeological ruins of a Buddhist Temple and a Shiva Temple.
In addition to my religious-cum-tourist excursions, I enjoyed my stay at a Guesthouse near the beach, and home cooked sea food at my in-laws house. The beach was better than the ones at Kudahs. There are hundreds of guest-houses which offered inexpensive but decent accommodation and sea-food restaurants. I had dinner at one of them and was turned off by a westerner who smoked marijuana in the dining area. Some of the tourists do not respect local rules and customs, and some of locals put-up with such transgression, for the dollars. Not good. I found my way back to Colombo by a night bus, which departed Trincomalee at 10 pm, and reached Colombo at 4 am. Pretty good compared to conditions before.
The cost of living remain very high for locals in Sri Lanka, and for my regret, some bad habits of South Asia such as spitting on the streets and queue jumping are also common. However, in many ways, Sri Lanka has changed for better since the end of the Civil War. Hardly anyone wanted to talk about it, whoever did talk, expressed relief that the war is over. The economy seems to be doing well; there are constructions everywhere in Colombo. There are not too many beggars on the streets, and most of slums near Colombo had been cleared, and people are re-settled elsewhere.
My return flight on Sri Lankan airlines was better than the previous one. I slept continuously for six hours, a feat I have not done in any of my previous flights. The drinks, food and the time of the flight contributed to this rest. When woke, I watched a Sinhala movie titled, Thanha Rathi Ranga, illustrating an untended consequence of the war - too many guns in wrong hands, which was a thriller with a good sense of humor, but ending up in a tragedy. We arrived half an hour ahead of schedule in Melbourne, from where I found my way home in Sydney.
I set on a journey, looking for anything to do, but ended up doing a lot of things which I wanted to do over the years. I am glad that I could do so.
The travel took about 20 hours door to door in total; for a Melbournian, it would have been 15 hours the most. It was the first time, I envied the Melbournians, but once I thought of Melbourne’s weather, I was happy to be a Sydney Sider.
My experience with the Australian Border Security at Melbourne airport was not great. The person, who was brushing for traces of drugs, used the same filter-paper for three people, including me. I had no idea who the other two were. I made an inconsequential protest, which he did not like. He said he was trying to be efficient, and 99.99% of the travellers are traces-free. I smiled and moved on. The next thing I know was another officer, walked straight to me, and pulled me from the queue for a body scan. He was rude for Australian standards of etiquettes, and probably suited for a security guard at an airport in Saudi Arabia. Well, there was nothing to be found on me, and he felt that he had settled the score on behalf of his lazy mate.
The flight on Sri Lankan airlines was okay – nothing to brag about. The staff were courteous, food was average, some of the electronics in the plane were not working, and there was a urine stench in toilets. But the flight was half empty, which is a rare thing in flights out of Sydney.
I spent the first day catching up with my friends at my former employer; it was nice to be received friendly after 3.5 years. It is the organisation I worked for seven years, which took me to many parts of the world, and introduced me to several cultures. I reminisced the good old days with my friends, who are also now getting old.
Now, looking for something to do. I wanted to do things I haven’t done before. The Eastern Province of Sri Lanka is largely Tamil (my mother-tongue) speaking area, and I knew very little. I went to one of its major cities Batticaloa, in 1979, and to the other, Trincomalee, in 1997. So, it became the candidate for me to do anything.
I took a train from Colombo to Vaalaichenai, the train station near the world famous Pasikudah beach. I had a reserved seat in second class, but the train was not crowded. In fact, one of the 3rd class compartments was completely empty. It was very different to the days I travelled by train in Sri Lanka in the Seventies. I had hung holding onto the train and travelled between stations before I could get in, find a place under seats to spread newspaper and sleep for the remainder of the journey. When I reach my destination, my shirts and pants will be full of grime. Now, the empty compartments. I guess people prefer road travel, which gives them better flexibility and comfort. The travel was very rocky. I felt all my bones were being displaced as the train sped, or crawled to a halt. My attempt to read a book was futile.
But, the train was moving to schedule – something that did not happen in the Seventies. Hawkers were selling savoury snacks, gingelly candies, and fresh produce. As the train moved from urbanised areas through forested areas, fresh produce was on sale. Mangoes, wood apple, corn and so on. I tried some savoury snacks, a steamed cake (Alampi), and a semi-ripe mango, sliced and sprinkled with a mix of chilly and salt powder. That was yum and reminded a common snack when I was kid growing in Jaffna.
Finding a guest house was not difficult at Pasikudah. The Auto driver spoke Tamil with beautiful Batticaloa accent. He took me to a guest house; I did not like, the owner called another and recommended I go there, we went there. The second place had a room only for a night, but I wanted for two. So, the second owner called the third guesthouse and checked if rooms are available for two nights, and they were. The auto guy took me to the third one; I wanted to see the rooms, they were clean, we agreed on a price, and I decided to stay. The hoteliers (Guest-House-liers?), were looking after each other. I am sure the Auto driver would have got his commission. He gave me his phone number and asked me to call him if I wanted to go anywhere.
The Guesthouse I stayed was in Kalkudah, about 100 m from the Kalkudah Beach, and a kilometre from Pasikudah beach. Both at walking distances, but differed significantly. Kudah in Tamil means a gulf. Pasikudah has a coral beach – no sands, so the hoteliers have trucked in sands to welcome the westerners. It has a shallow pool for swimmers, but full of algae and sea-weeds, known in Tamil as Pasi. During the rainy season, a river discharge near these Kudahs. This makes the water murky, especially in the shallow Pasikudah. Corals and fish are not visible during rainy season. Kalkudah beach, on the other hand, has beautiful sands, but the sea floor is steep, so it gets neck-deep within 15 m from the coast. Because of the depth and active waves, the water remains clear. The day I went to this beach, there were only five people. It was just empty. For good swimmers looking to get lost in nature, it’s an ideal place to be.
Pasikudah Beach
The Guesthouse I stayed had only three rooms; all were occupied when I was there. It was run by two women, likely to be in their thirties. They offer home cooked food for their guests. This is important because there are no restaurants to eat out, except those in hotels. The ladies were efficient, friendly but maintain a respectable distance from the guests. The guest house had a long veranda for the guest to enjoy the sea breeze. I liked it very much, spent hours idling there. Unfortunately, there are scrublands between the veranda and the sea, which conceal the sea view. I am sure that the scrubland will be cleared, and a hotel will be built shortly.
The Verandah at the Guesthouse
I walked from one end of Pasikudah beach to the other, a distance of about 2 km, to reach a small landing site for local fishermen. There were about 20 boats there, all in good condition, an indicator of Government subsidies and/or thriving business. It is probably the smallest fish landing site I have ever been. An auctioneer seems to be in charge of the site, and the bidders purchased fish for retailing elsewhere. I arrived together with a boat with Spanish mackerel. An old balance was used to weigh fish, and the weight-measures were rusted and worn. Despite much technological advancement in daily life in many parts of Sri Lanka, this landing site has not adopted any of them. It could do with an electronic balance, the least. The auctioneer’s assistant weighed two or three fish at a time. I did a quick count of fish on the floor and estimated that the pile is about 50 kilos. The Weighing Man declared it was fifty-two kilos. I was very happy with my assessment ability. There were only two bidders for the pile, the first offered LKR300 per kg (1.95 USD), then next offered LKR320 (2.08 USD) per kg, and the sale was sealed.
No longer having anything more to do at the Kudahs, I travelled to Trincomalee by bus. The bus was painted in and out, with cartoon characters from the movie Madagascar. Not sure what the fascination was. Several speakers were blaring Tamil movie songs of the eighties and nineties. It was intolerable at the beginning, but my ears settled down and even started to enjoy some of the songs I recognised. The journey took 2.5 hours (About 30 years ago, it took more than 8 hours), thanks to a new road connecting Batticaloa and Trincomalee. The road network in Sri Lanka is very good, and all credit goes to the ex-President, Mahinda Rajapaksa. He remains immensely popular, and it appears he will win the next elections if he chooses to compete.
The colorful bus, I travelled in
Demography of Trincomalee is unique in Sri Lanka. It has all three ethnic communities, Tamil, Muslim and Sinhala communities in significant numbers. Only other district similar to Trincomalee is the Capital District, Colombo. Tamils used to be the majority in the sixties, but, emigration of Tamils and higher birth rates among Muslims have made Muslims the majority community in 2007.
P
I was keen to visit the Koneswaram Temple, originally built in 205 B.C. It’s a temple for Lord Shiva, and over the centuries, occasionally referred to in Tamil Hindu Literature, mostly by South Indian Saints. It was destroyed by Portuguese and rebuilt during the 17th century. One of statues of Lord Nandi belonging to the 7th Century was found very recently in 2013, during some excavation works. There may be still be others still buried.
Koneswaram Temple
Koneswaram reminded the obvious fact that that religion and language are different from each other. Unfortunately in Sri Lanka, whenever communal riots occurred, mobs identified Buddhism with Sinhalese and Hinduism with Tamils. Consequently, places of worship of both religions were attacked and robbed. I doubt that will occur in future. I have witnessed scores of Sinhala disciples at Hindu Temples, and Tamil disciples in Buddhist temples in recent years. The day I went to Koneswaram, almost every disciple at the Temple was Sinhalese.
I also went to Swami Lakshmi Narayan Temple, a very recent one at Trincomalee. The Swami Lakshmi Narayan Sect, originated in Gujarat, has been building very beautiful temples all over the world. I am fortunate to visit their oldest temple in Gujarat, their largest temple near-Delhi, and the one in Trincomalee. It’s a Temple for Vishnu, the Hindu God for Protection (Brahma is the God for Creation and Shiva is the God for Destruction). I also think the Temple in Trincomalee will be the second largest Hindu Temple in Sri Lanka in size, second only to the Murugan Temple at Nallur, Jaffna. Another attraction at Trincomalee is the Kanniya Hot springs. This site has archaeological ruins of a Buddhist Temple and a Shiva Temple.
Sri Lakshmi Narayan Temple, Trincomalee
In addition to my religious-cum-tourist excursions, I enjoyed my stay at a Guesthouse near the beach, and home cooked sea food at my in-laws house. The beach was better than the ones at Kudahs. There are hundreds of guest-houses which offered inexpensive but decent accommodation and sea-food restaurants. I had dinner at one of them and was turned off by a westerner who smoked marijuana in the dining area. Some of the tourists do not respect local rules and customs, and some of locals put-up with such transgression, for the dollars. Not good. I found my way back to Colombo by a night bus, which departed Trincomalee at 10 pm, and reached Colombo at 4 am. Pretty good compared to conditions before.
The cost of living remain very high for locals in Sri Lanka, and for my regret, some bad habits of South Asia such as spitting on the streets and queue jumping are also common. However, in many ways, Sri Lanka has changed for better since the end of the Civil War. Hardly anyone wanted to talk about it, whoever did talk, expressed relief that the war is over. The economy seems to be doing well; there are constructions everywhere in Colombo. There are not too many beggars on the streets, and most of slums near Colombo had been cleared, and people are re-settled elsewhere.
My return flight on Sri Lankan airlines was better than the previous one. I slept continuously for six hours, a feat I have not done in any of my previous flights. The drinks, food and the time of the flight contributed to this rest. When woke, I watched a Sinhala movie titled, Thanha Rathi Ranga, illustrating an untended consequence of the war - too many guns in wrong hands, which was a thriller with a good sense of humor, but ending up in a tragedy. We arrived half an hour ahead of schedule in Melbourne, from where I found my way home in Sydney.
I set on a journey, looking for anything to do, but ended up doing a lot of things which I wanted to do over the years. I am glad that I could do so.
