Welcome back to A-Bay

Monday September 13th, we arrived for the second time in Arugam Bay and once again chose to stay at the Sea Rider. The Sea Rider was pretty much the same as we left it two weeks before, with only a few significant changes. John, the "itchy" puppy had escaped and was replaced by a new, less "itchy" puppy named Jimmy. You may be led to believe that with a name like Jimmy the dog was a boy, but apparently Jimmy is a fine name for any Sri Lankan dog, male or female. Another new development at the Sea Rider was a tightened security regiment - with a new sign in/out log book being added to the previously existing all-hours gate lock down. The sign in/out could not possibly be effective as any thief wouldn't be signing in, and it just served as an inconvenience to any visitors we had. Ralph was like a pitbull on a bone whenever it came to making anyone sign, and it got to be quite annoying.

It was a little sad showing up to find that our friends were no longer there, but it didn't take us long to fill the void of their absence with new friendships. The group that we found consisted of John (a British med intern), Penny (a Phd student in medical economics), Raphael (a well traveled French landmine removal expert), Ashan (also working to remove landmines in the north - Sri Lankan born, but raised in the UK), and Isabelle (also from the UK - in Sri Lanka for love). As soon as we sat down we were offered a round of cold beers, which were very well received after a long, hot, dirty day of bus travel. Alice, being the well raised girl that she is, took the time to shower and to put on clean clothes before inflicting herself upon our new acquaintances...I did not, and neglected to shake Isabelle's hand for fear of contamination. I was that dirty.

The next morning, the group at the Sea Rider had planned an excursion to a nearby monastery nestled atop the hills near Crocodile Lake (where Alice previously chanced fate in the boat of a local man). We were invited along and piled in the back of a pickup, which belonged to a friend of Ashan and Isabelle, possibly named Larry - but Alice and I can't be sure. The ride out was really cool as Isabelle was a novice birdwatcher and seemed able to name most of the birds we drove by. The wind was warm, the sun was shining, and it was a really great 'safari' like experience as we drove past herds of water buffalo wallowing in mud holes, and walking along the rural road. After going through a security check, and being given an unidentified package to deliver to the guards at the base of hill, we arrived at the monastery. Osk, "Larry's" partner brought bags full of biscuits and fruit to give to the monks who are totally reliant on donations for their sustenance as they do not handle money. The trail leading up the monastery was under construction and there was a sign in Sinhalese (translated by "Larry") near a pile of sand asking pilgrims to fill a bag and haul it up the hill, so we did. There was only one old monk at the monastery when we arrived. He was laying on his back reading a newspaper, and was so deaf that "Larry" had to yell at him in order to gain his attention. From there we climbed a huge rock that provided sweeping views of the ocean, jungle and rocky hills from the top. The climb up was very steep, and we had to do it barefoot as you are not permitted to wear footwear on monastic grounds. We climbed at midday, when the sun was the hottest, and you could have easily cooked an egg on the rock - it was so hot. Our feet burned with every step, and whenever a patch of shade was available we took refuge for a minute before carrying on. (It wasn't until we had ascended and descended the steep rock face that we were told that there was an easy path on the other side of the hill.) The view from the top was breath taking, and the spiritual energy at the top was overwhelming. The wind blew so hard and hot that it occasionally forced you to hold your footing. You could see the village of Arugam Bay, all the surfing points, sky in all directions, and rocky hills home to monks and hermits. Even though we have visited dozens of temples and holy sites, Alice and I both agree that it was one of the most sacred places we have come across in our travels. Simple, natural, beautiful.


Near the monastery


Alice on top of the rock

We then went to Crocodile Lake where we saw tons of crocodiles basking in the sun, mouths open, teeth bared. Seriously. Lots. We saw probably ten or so, but like any good yarn, by the time we get home the number will be in the thousands and they will have nearly eaten Ashan.


Crocodiles!

That evening we all went for dinner, which was kind of an ordeal because we were such a large group, and all so modest that no one wanted to take the initiative to chose a place and force their will upon the rest of the group. We went to one place and didn't like the look of it, left, went to another place only to leave it and return to the first place. We could agree that we were in the mood for seafood - a fairly simple request considering our proximity to the sea. We asked the man working at the second place we visited if they had seafood, and he said "yes, cuttle fish, etc.", so we sat down. When it came time to order, each and every seafood item requested (with the exception of tuna) was denied with the explanation "sorry, cuttle fish not possible...sorry, prawns not possible...sorry, seer fish not possible."

Throughout the day the group placed various wagers on things...on who would be the last down the rock, and what time dinner would arrive, etc... It is a practice that Alice and I are considering picking up and it made for a little excitement, especially around meal time.

The next day we said our goodbyes as the group department on their way, but I am sure we will keep in touch as they were all such awesome people.

Arugam Bay Flashbacks

Sitting eating chop suey (which seems to be the official dish of Kandy-apart from cake of course) tonight, Dave and I realized we had forgotten to write about several important things connected to our last post.

First, our second hotel in Arugam Bay (run by muscle man/ cosmetics collector Ralph) was also home to a small puppy named John. John was under the care of Ralph. Unfortunately, Ralph's excessive grooming routine did not extend to his dog. John had a terrible case of fleas, or, as described by Ralph "John is very itchy." The poor dog couldn't take more than two steps without scratching himself, according to Dave, not unlike professional baseball players or the average American male football fan.

We mentioned that we were either locked in or out of our hotel most of the time, because of Ralph's concern for security, but we neglected to mention the explaination he gave for the lock down. When asked, Ralph would assume a very serious face, start shaking his head and say, "bad men, you know? Bad men around. Ali Baba. Bad men." Thanks to Ralph's explanation, "Ali Baba" has become synonomous with bad men. Despite all Ralph's security measures, Roded's cigarettes fell victim to Ali Baba and his devious ways.

Ralph

The Sea Rider

Also in Arugam Bay, back at our favorite restaurant, Ruwangi's, we were sitting eating dinner (or lunch, who knows), watching two children running around (mostly naked) between the tables and the kitchen, where their mother was attempting to prepare food. One of the children started howling, and Ruwangi emerged from the kitchen to announce, "big one tried to eat little one". Janine, Eddie, Roded, Dave and I looked at each other, assuming he meant the larger child had bitten the smaller one, otherwise there were stranger things than the bong going on at Ruwangi's. Perhaps cannabalism is alive and well in Sri Lanka?

On one of my long bike rides in Arugam Bay, I cycled to Crocodile Lake. To get to the lake, you first go to the village of Panama, about 20km from Arugam Bay, then down a deserted dirt track for another 2.5km. The lake was beautiful, full of birds, surrounded by trees and was devoid of human activity. I sat down beside the lake to eat some crackers (delicious Munchee biscuits, a favorite of all Sri Lankans), and enjoy some quiet time away from Dave. I had barely sat down when a man appeared on a bicycle. He went through the round of questions I am now very familiar with, "what is your country? What is your name? Are you married? Are you pregnant? Where you go? You like Sri Lanka?" (These questions typically go on until they exhaust their English or I say something like, "yes, I'm married, have children, a taxi, I'm pregnant and I don't need accomodation"). The man on the bike finished his speel, but didn't leave. He just sat there, watching me eat crackers! Then two more guys on bikes appeared. Suddenly my peaceful lunch in an isolated spot was a party of four. The guys, in very broken English, asked me if I would like to have a boat ride across the lake. I weighed the risks, me, alone, on an isolated lake-full of crocodiles-with three strange men, and decided, no, I didn't need a boat ride. Finishing my crackers, I packed up, said goodbye and continued my ride around the lake. I got off at one point to take pictures of some birds in the water, and was quickly approached by another man-this one however, didn't speak any English, so I avoided having to tell him my life story. He made hand motions indicating a crocodile, and gesture to further along the shore. We walked together, him making chomping motions, me nodding, along the beach toward a group of birds. He explained, using more gestures, that there were no crocodiles on the shore, since the birds felt safe enough to sit there. He made boat gestures, pointing to himself, then to me. Comforted by the fact that there would be only one strange man and a lake full of crocodiles, I agreed (sorry mum). We hopped in his narrow outrigger and he paddled me to the far end of the lake and along the other shore- I saw several crocodiles- before he returned me, in one piece, to my bike.

More to come about Kandy and our adventures here (it's mostly, but not all, cake eating-we have done some stuff).