The Enchanted Island

Place: Sri Lanka's Southern Coast


Ah, Sri Lanka, where the tea flows like wine and three men are making a wedding cake in my hotel lobby. Even the dogs and cats live in harmony here. This island really is enchanted. My prediction is that in a year or two, when the dust of their 30 year civil war has finally settled (it ended just a year ago), and providing there are no additional natural disasters, this place will have replaced Hawaii. I say a silent prayer for beating the crowds.

I am on the beautiful southern coast in a Dutch colony called Galle. The city is surrounded by a stone fort that is in remarkably good condition for being so old. The stone is dripping with black moss that creates a mystical feeling. Our hotel is more like a colonial mansion, with tile floors, wooden railings, and balconies shaded by tall trees. We spent a day hunting down the cheap seamstress shops to enjoy a little retail therapy in the beach town of Hikaduwa. Shopping was a success, I walked away with three hand made shirts for under $20. Jen and Megan scored Arabian pants and two dresses. On the train ride back we were all the rage with the school children just released from class. They surrounded us at the train station repeating the English phrases they learned in school and giggling when we responded. On the train they pushed ahead of the crowd to save us seats, then about 20 of them squeezed onto the bench across from us to stare and whisper.
Now, I am just speculating, I know nothing about the Sri Lanka government or their education system, but based on my observations, they seem to be excelling. The children are polite and speak more English than I would have expected. And they somehow are able to keep their uniforms bleach white. That only is a task worth toasting.



After Hikaduwa, we took the bus in the opposite direction to Koggala. One of the must-sees of southern Sri Lanka is the art of stilt fishing that is practiced there. Men drive large branches into the ocean and attach a horizontal stick, on which they perch to have a better advantage of catching the small anchovy type fish that live close to shore. It was amazing to see. The whole coastline scattered with sticks and resting fisherman. One old fisherman was friendly enough to teach us how the sport was done, and, eager to try, he helped me up on a perch and handed me his pole. After a few minutes he realized I was never going to catch anything, so to make me feel better he reached into the water and pulled out a fish with his bare hands and attached it to the end of my pole. I'm not sure how much better that made me feel, but it's the thought that counts.




The Sri Lankans in general are very friendly people. Too friendly sometimes. The men are as leery and talkative as the ones in Central America, but come off more inquisitive than aggressive. I'm not as familiar with the cultural faux pas here as I am in central America, so we have yet been able to determine whether the men are undressing us with their eyes, or seeing dollar signs in ours. Or just being friendly and want to practice their English. Or maybe a combination of all. The taxi driver who showed up in our hotel lobby asking to visit us at 9:30 PM did not increase my faith in the natural goodness of mankind. Don't worry Dad, we told the manager we were sleeping and shut and locked the door. Either way, I have yet to feel physically unsafe, and have long since stopped worrying about my belongings being stolen, let alone being attacked. Jen has a knife just in case. Except that it's too heavy to carry so we normally leave it in the hotel room. Again, it's the thought that counts.