Hambantota, Sri Lanka. February 7, 2016

---

Hambantota, Sri Lanka February 7, 2016

Now we are getting into much more serious heat and humidity, 35C and 80%H2O.

On the Indian Ocean traversing the Bay of Bengal, five degrees north of the equator, the anti-piracy measures have been taken down. The hard-looking Filipinos with their crisp white shirts and badges, Kevlar vests and helmets have melted away in favour of painting and cleaning crews. The gaffs have been returned to their storage cabinet and the extreme sound and light equipment is packed away.

This Sri Lankan port was built post-tsunami. The entire region of Hambantota was devastated by the disastrous walls of water that swept over this very flat coastline more than a decade ago (2004).

This is the first visit for Holland America. Local officials are the textbook chickens without heads; there is again much frantic handwaving and shouting, and very little action. Much like India but without the organizational expertise (snort). "Insufficient officers, " cried the Immigration bureaucrats. "But," explained our officers with varying levels of frustration and volume, "we have all the paperwork already done, and honestly, nobody is planning to stay behind when the ship leaves." Someone finally took control and we were cleared to disembark.

Jane went "twitching" to Bandala Park. They use the British slang on board, as "birding" in the UK means alcohol-fueled young men out hunting for women.

Twitching - An hour drive by bus. Bus was past its prime but serviceable. Unfortunate that sound system was not functional and many of us could not understand any of the guide'sdialogue, which I imagine was informative and interesting. Joined by Amy the acupuncturist (who takes headstanding selfies wherever she goes). Got near to park and had to stop because of water covering the roadway. Took some great shots of water buffalo with attendant cattle egrets while waiting for covered jeeps.

Driver, name unpronouncable, was also our guide and bird/wildlife spotter. Would just pass back his bird guide open to the correct page. His driving was excellent as there were many potholes and twisty turns. Saw a wonderful array of birds and wildlife: Bee eater, spoonbill, blue, purple and white heron, red wattled lapwing, kingfisher, black tailed godwit, peacock and peahen, a variety of ducks...the list goes on. Also saw monitor lizard, chameleon, mongoose, more water buffalo...sadly, no elephants. About 3/4 the way through the drive, we stopped at the cliff of ??? Bay. Sea turtles! A leatherback, green and hog nosed.Hard to see in the water. Impossible to photograph. Terrific day.

Paul went caving and climbing. The bus ride was similar to the amusement rides of India, with less traffic and fewer cows, although we did have to let a herd of water buffalo pass before movin' on down the highway. A standing rule for the fainthearted is to never look out the front window so you can see what's coming, there is no joy in that unless you like the adrenaline. Look out your window at the sides from the nice comfy seat and get the white knuckles off the seat ahead. The guide was emphatic in admonishing a particularly panicky woman: Madame, let the trained driver do his job, he will worry for you. Subtext: geez, lady, you contribute nothing by making those terrified amusement park noises, but you are doing a great job of distracting everyone from the experience with your impending cardiac event.

We were told that the white egrets dotting the rice fields were called cattle egrets, as they would follow the water buffalo and cattle as they moved through the fields and paddies, the hooves of the large animals digging up lunch for the birds. They use tractors much more than animals now, and refer to the birds as tractor egrets.

520 steps up the mountain, they said. Felt like a lot more that that because the carved stone steps irregularly laid up the mountainside are unevenly sized and spaced. Jane would not have enjoyed it, and indeed, fewer than half our number actually made it to the top. There was a lot of, "I'll just wait for you here." That said, I was very impressed with some of the people who did make it up and down, canes, bad backs, new knees and all. I was pretty much soaked through in my lightweight MEC shirt and Columbia pants, but dried quickly in the breeze at the top. (Although the papers in my pockets were never quite the same again.)

It starts easily enough, with a wide avenue approach with low steps curling up to the first set of caves and shrines. Here we saw examples of how the early monks carved lips in the openings of the caves so that the rains would run down the hill rather than into the caves. A reclining buddha and wall paintings adorn the inside of a building erected to afford more protection to the the works. A school sits at the base as well, and white-robed young students on a break crowded the tourists, politely asking that their pictures be taken and shown to them.

As we climbed, the stairs became more narrow and steep, until the last ascent to the summit. A choice of routes is available at the top: a long, steep climb on narrow stairs, or a much shorter and dramatically steeper climb with hand and footholds carved into the rock and a wobbly steel railing for additional, albeit dubious, support.

There were a few landings at which one could rest, and caves and shrines to explore. The most dramatic were the set of caves found before the ascent to the summit. A total of seven individual painted caves at different levels of the sheer mountain. The final set, each with a huge reclining Buddha, are decorated with different Buddhist and Hindu depictions. A little odd to see Shiva and Krishna gazing upon the Enlightened One, but that's the East. Lots and lots of contradiction.

Painted figures pose behind glass, depicting Hindu gods and the positions of Buddhist meditation. The ceilings are painted with complex scenes, directly onto the rough living rock so that they look like scrunched-up tapestries hung from above.

The final climb to the summit has an unexpected reward: even though the views were dramatic and visibility was excellent, I discovered that if you go around the end of the wall there is a small path that skirts the thick plateau jungle. A scramble downs a hill with root and tree branch aids as hand and footholds, and you find yourself on a great bald portion of rock. Getting close to the edge is a very personal decision, and I did not go nearly as close as the Slovak mother and daughter who held hands and looked for all the world to me as if they were about to leap as part of some horrible pact.

I once crawled to the edge of a cliff on Bell Island in Newfoundland and looked down to the sea crashing on the rocks far, far below. This was higher, and no sea. Just a long, long drop to the next level of rainforest canopy.

To the north, a pristine monastery perched on a far mountaintop, glinting in the sun. In the valley to the west, small villages emerged from clearings in the foliage, connected by the suggestion of roads where the canopy thinned. In the southeast, corridors of clearcut forest scarred the landscape as hydro lines reach into areas hoping for development.

I had a far-ranging chat with the guide (whose name I neglected to record) on the way down. As a skeptic with little patience for religious superstition, it was my first opportunity to have the basics of Buddhism explained to me face-to-face by a Buddhist. I was quite interested to learn more of the philosophy and lifestyle encouraged by a Buddhist life. Much more a reasoned and considered lifestyle than tribal mythologies and arbitrary moral judgements.

The conversation continued on the bus regarding buddhism as politics, as I proposed that Buddhism, unlike Islam and Christianity seemed immune to empire-building through war. Although they have no concept of crusade, mission or jihad, the guide told me how when it came time to defend Ceylon against invaders, it was the Buddhist warrior monks who led the defense. Political aggression, though, is much less violent in the Buddhist way of life than in other religions. Buddhism is also practiced in other religions. In Japan, for example, it is common to be both Shinto and Buddhist.

I asked why there were little circles of burnt grass here and there by the road, some near dwellings. An odd habit of rural Sri Lankans is the burning of 'dirt.' This entails the gathering of dead vegetation and needlessly having a mini bonfire. It is somehow connected to the farmers' practice of burning the field to remove crop residue. The government is trying to encourage people to stop, but with little success.

We were only a third of the way back when the A/C gave a frightening death rattle and expired. I thought the transmission had dropped out of the bus.

The guide and driver conferred, called whatever HQ was in charge, and moved the bus to a slightly cooler, shaded area by a reservoir that feeds the rice paddies. We were assured that another bus was on the way to rescue us. It was a pleasant enough place to hang out for a while, but there were a few bitchers and whiners, not amused by my comment that it's all part of the traveling experience. To escape them I curiously wandered down to the reservoir shoreline before realising that I had no idea what may be lurking along the shore or in the tall grass and bushes, and wandered briskly back.

A cop on a motorcycle provided entertainment by randomly pulling over motorcycles, scooters and cars - never trucks, tractors, taxis or tuk-tuks. If your vehicle's type started with T, you were waved on. I watched with interest but saw no drama.

The motorcycle cop was parked by a pickup truck, the owner selling coconuts out of the truck bed. In Costa Rica, they would refrigerate them overnight, and sell them out of coolers the next day. Most refreshing, but the best we could hope for is that they had been kept out of the sun and that the contents were not hot. Our guide bought one for each passenger who wanted one. The vendor expertly hacked a hole in each with a machete and offered them around, even with a straw if one wished. Locals stopped frequently to guzzle the contents of one or two, then had the vendor cleave them in half so they could eat the meat as they walked or drove on.

A prissy American woman refused, saying she didn't know where the coconut had been. A Brit offered, "Top of a friggin' tree, innit?"

An old Scot with a beautiful young Malay wife growled at her the whole time, as if he blamed her for this evidently insufferable delay. She bore the abuse with increasing annoyance. Not like he had to be anywhere, innit?

The new bus came, nicer than the previous one, and with the A/C on full. The cool didn't stop the bitching Scot, who moaned the whole way back until his wife got up and went to sit in the back of the bus. Nobody else paid him any attention, and after a few moments of quiet, the Brit said into the air, "That's better, innit?" There was a group noise of approval.O

Back safely to the ship. Reflecting on the day, I figure that the goal had been more than worthwhile, but the flavour of Sri Lanka and its people is simply not available on such an abbreviated visit. The overnights are a much better idea and give better opportunities to explore and discover, and we are very much looking forward to those opportunities in Bali, Singapore, Yangon and other places as we travel onward.

Watching departure from the top deck, I was surprised to see a forklift pick up the gangway and carry it to the bow, where it was winched onto the front deck in the same way as the local tender boats were taken on and off for our Suez transit. First time I've noticed them doing this. I don't think this is Standard operating procedure. I will have to check when we leave Rangoon. Perhaps something to do with tides, as we exited from a high deck, but reboarded on a low one 10 hours later.

---

Photos

Hambantota
Monkeys everywhere!

Hambantota
Water birds.

Hambantota
Bee Eaters! So colourful...and they posed!

Hambantota
Bay where we spotted the turtles.

Hambantota
Was nice to stretch a bit!

Hambantota
Water Buffalo.