Paraphrasing

Deafening lack of updates I know. Truth be told though, dial-up internet still sucks and I sit in an area at work where there's no reception to "borrow" my neighbour's wireless signal. Thus negating any desire to become frustrated while trying to load my blogger dashboard.

Life has kind of picked up a little bit. Old friends who I haven't seen in years that were away in university have come back to the motherland after graduating. Thathi left last Friday, and I'm now at work full time. Yeah, I know I had to say goodbye to those awesome flex hours. Added to all of this I've rediscovered my journal, the pen and ink kind and have become a bit lost in the comfort of writing by hand. (None of it is legible by the way. My penmanship is as terrible as it's always been.)

This can hardly be called a real post I know, I wrote it a long time ago, and since no one reads my blog I thought I'd post it. Plus the Canadian history buff in me is slightly curious. Ten bucks goes to the person who can figure out which line I nicked from former Prime Minister Mackenzie-King's disgusted speech writer. (It's been slightly paraphrased)

In this day of hyper polarisation where first cousins fact and fiction become bedfellows baring cross eyed children; we gaze on in voyeuristic joy. As euphemistic wars rage on we stop living and start existing. The first-past-the-post doesn't even realise that he is on the other side and thus no tangible thought is paid to the future. So we continue on in the same manner, complete in our own obliviousness happy to be unaware.

It is delicious.

Oh wait, what's this? It's been expired for a week? But our consumption continues and never ceases. As our one dimensional lives never seem to take on any form. Although we stare into the proverbial abyss we still watch on repeat what we've TiVo'ed in our heads. It has become our high definition reality. Without knowing a kind of government sanctioned deception. Where botoxed promises flow forth freely.

Freezing faces as well as minds.

So here we are on pause, as little statues made of glass. Hold us to the light and you can see right through us. Shatter one against the wall and see the splinters of hypocrisy. Now we come with a special carrying case in an array of colours, complete with scratch resistant intolerance.

And yet some among us become unstuck. And these few proclaim that they are tired of playing hospital. No longer do they want to be the midwives in this game with its cast of intellectual virgins. Instead they move ahead and run away, hodge podge members of society, they flee but find there is no place to go.

Pairs

Good things come in pairs. Socks, Twix, eyes, badminton raquets. What good is one without the other? Ammi and Thathi are the same as any pair, for a short period of time things go on swimmingly, but tear the two asunder for too long and the universe gets flipped on its head. Add an exotic locale to the above and you'll find yourself a recipe for disaster, one so fine that even Aiya could not replicate. Have no fear, this isn't an entry where I rant about my dysfunctional family. Just the dysfunction that this trip has thus far been.

It seems that Thathi who is normally an extremely anal retentive person suddenly finds a prune juice like elixor when entering a tropical climate. To me it's completely inexplicable, because the heat does not change any level of analness in me. It actually seems to have hit a steady pace and has not fluctuated in a good 3 years I'd have to say. Vacations to the beach infuriate me because I feel like it's such a waste of time to be just sitting around and doing nothing. Don't get me wrong, I love my do nothing time, I find that it's the best way to procrastinate, but do nothing time is best enjoyed when you actually have something to do. That's the best way to savour it. Anywho, so it seems like Thathi has developed the ability to not think ahead. In Sri Lanka there are no hidden agendas, so when you go to the store to pick up some eggs it isn't code for, go to the store to get eggs, and on the way stop off at the hardware, lawn and pet store. Instead it's more like this.

Me: So what are we doing tomorrow?
Thathi: I don't know.
Me: Well, we haven't done anything since the Monday we came.
Thathi: There's still a lot of time left.
Me: You only have two weeks left and you haven't called any of the 30 something people you're supposed to have a meal with
Thathi: We'll play it by ear.
Me: You can play it by ear. I have plans.

At least I have a little bit of control. What this means however is probably doing absolutely nothing with Thathi in the next 2 weeks before he leaves. Thankfully I've kept in touch with my work mates from last year and don't find the company of my cousins insipid. Otherwise there'd be a big problem. It seems that Thathi and his brothers seems to be quite content to hang around around topless, with their man bosoms resting on their guts while they sit under a ceiling fan. To them it seems unfathomable why anyone would not take pleasure in such an exhilarating pursuit. For one, it's just not a pretty picture. To see four men who bare more than a passing resemblance to each other with guts out... I'll leave that mental imagery to you. They are all rather happy in each others' company, which is okay, because they are a tight knit family. I however find the heat stifling enough, I don't need to be further suffocated by overweight relatives. It is precisely for this and many other minor reasons that I have decided to start working ASAP. For sanity's sake I hope it's no later than this Wednesday.

When Ammi's around Thathi is manageable, because she can reel in the craziness. Without her here it's like a free for all. Guess that's why they've worked so well these past 30 years.

Of Elbows and Asses

Susantha doesn't know his elbow from his ass. We are an awful combination, as a trishaw driver he technically should know where the hell he's going but unfortunately having a sense of direction is not his strong suit. He is however one of the most kind hearted and loyal chappies in all of Colombo. The kind of loyal "servant" you read about in a Jane Austen or Bronte novel. As is often the case when you don't speak any Sinhala loyalty and trustworthiness always trumps a stellar sense of direction.

If there was ever a man who was meant to suck more at his job I'd like to meet him, because Susantha is not what you would call a natural taxi driver. He proves this to me on an almost daily basis and not through his driving skills. As I've mentioned numerous times in the past I have an awful habit of creating futures for people. At times it can be rather depressing but at others it's such a powerful motivating factor to keep doing what I'm doing. If circumstances were different Susantha who knows what he could have done with his life.

If pity really does "have a human face" Susantha could be its poster boy. In this regard he really has fallen right out of a Victorian novel. His in-laws were brutally murdered last year, his wife fell into depression (naturally) and added to all of this his 2 year old daughter nearly died and was ill for almost 6 months. Along with the all these personal issues he also grapples with poverty. I know he's very grateful for all the work that we give him, we've been using him exclusively for almost 3 years now. But he's just not meant to be a driver.

It's easy to look at Susantha's circumstances and dismiss it all as just mere existence and not an actual life. To a certain degree there's a lot of truth in that, he doesn't have a career and lives paycheque to paycheque. Or I guess in his case from hire to hire. That kind of outlook however paints a rather bleak and dreary picture that would eclipse the reality of his life. Far be it for me to analyse or even for that matter understand Susantha's life, but the little glimpses that he let's us see is enough to know that this is a man who is thoroughly satisfied with life.

He is a devoted father and either flat out refuses to take hires between 1:00-2:00 PM or grudgingly does so because he picks his 6 year old daughter up from school and then has lunch with her. He also has a rather biting sense of humour, but he doesn't make this evident to everyone. By nature I think Susantha's a very reserved person, doesn't usually say much unless you initiate conversation. Which is again an unusual thing for a cabbie, because regardless of what part of the world you're in, cabbies talk.

Today he was at our gate with a huge grin on his face, one of his friends is an electrician who we've hired to rewire my grandparents' entire home (for fear that my meddlesome 84 year old grandfather will die by electrocution one day while tinkering with something unnecessary). In his own words Susantha's here to do the shitty work, he's been digging holes in the ground and breaking up concrete. Hopefully he's a better electrician than he is a driver, otherwise I think we'll all die of electrocution. And that would be really unfortunate

Spare Change

During our ill fated walk on Monday, Thathi and I got to talking about poverty and disparity rates, it's a topic that inevitably always comes up when hobnobbing with the proletarians. Sometimes it's really easy to forget that you're in an underdeveloped country. The vast majority of people live well below the "official" poverty line, which is determined by the amount of calories a person consumes a day. That is a very base way of trying to quantify poverty for various and obvious reasons, it does not take into consideration standards of living or social indicators.

On Monday we headed to Majestic City (<-- mildly humorous video link) for the requisite picking up of supplies. Usually at such an early juncture of the trip we are walking targets for a mugging. Since the exchange rate was really decent on Monday it was decided that all our dollars would be exchanged for rupees. The smallest denomination that either of us had on hand were 1000 rupee notes. Such a large bill doesn't make it conducive to giving handouts to beggars despite what inflation might be like. We hadn't even been in Sri Lanka for more than 48 hours so the poverty and filth are all still very raw to me. At this point I haven't reached such depths of apathy to begrudge a 10 rupee note and conversely wished I had some money to give.

There was a rather pathetic looking fellow in a wheel chair at the foot of the front entrance to the mall. He didn't have any legs, they were gone clear from below the upper thigh and also only stumps for arms. As thathi and I walked past him he asked us for some spare change. We had to keep walking as neither of us had anything to give him. We managed to do everything that we had set out for ourselves at MC and on our way out we saw the beggar again. There was a guy in a red Bata shirt whom I recognised as one of the clerks in the store, he had a 2 litre bottle of cold water and was washing that beggars face, arms and legs. Sri Lanka is not so caste dominated as India is, but that was nevertheless a very uncommon sight, people just don't do those kinds of things. Sometimes you see humanity in the most unexpected places.

Selective memory issues

When it comes to certain important things I'm terribly forgetful. For example where I last left either my wallet, keys and ipod charger (or all three). Those things are lost on a near daily basis and that can't be helped because according to Myers-Brigg, I am an "absent minded professor." This means that birthdays, pop trivia and word-for-word Monty Python dialogue find a fertile breeding ground in my mind. My time to shine comes whilst working the room in all those cocktail parties I frequent since there's something to say to everyone. (You'd be surprised how versatile Monty Python really is.) However it's safe to say, as many of you have had occasion to witness, my memory for all things stupid oftentimes fails me terribly when applied in day-to-day life.

Case in point: there is so much that I've forgotten about Sri Lanka since being here the last time, which was about 11 months ago.

1. It is hot.
Nothing is ever going to change that. An extreme heat warning in Toronto that causes minor panic in the city is considered average temperature here. Thank goodness I didn't have enough space in my bag to bring my boxing boots with me, because despite the heat you know my inner shoe whore would rear its ugly head and force me to wear them. I have therefore been living in a pair of Old Navy flip flops since my arrival and have acquired tan lines on my feet.

2. Physical activity is not possible unless done in a climate controlled environment.
Tagging onto the above gripe about the heat the only time It's not possible to sweat is when under a cold shower or seated in front of an a/c unit this obviously makes it very difficult to walk to the fridge let alone anywhere else. So when Aiya decided it would be appropriate to call and wake me up at 4:30 on Monday morning I convinced Thathi at about 6:50 that we should go for a walk since neither of us could go back to sleep. (Thanks Aiya!) Between dodging the dog shit, gagging at the smell of the open sewers and narrowly escaping death by motor vehicle the thought occurred to me that there was a possible chance I had misjudged the benefits of going for a walk. Came back to my grandparents' place and while peeling off my sweat drenched clothes I made a mental note to never repeat that folly again.

I start at the gym with my cousin next week.

3. Crash
I slept through Crash the first time and you better believe that I slept through it for a second time when I watched it with my cousins and a few randoms on Monday night at the theatre. What a terrible movie, the only good thing about watching it a second time is that I was able to take a fairly lengthy nap in all of the a/c goodness. It's always nice to wake up and not be acutely aware of how sweaty you are.

Not only was I once again enlightened to how pointless the Oscars really are but I also got a chance to reacquaint myself with some good old fashioned Sri Lankan bigotry. After the movie was finished we were all waiting around for our respective rides and shooting the shit. More like I just sat there awkwardly with my cousin and a bunch of randoms. During the course of a conversation my cousin mentioned that she was looking forward to watching Brokeback Mountain later on in the week, one of the randoms then interjected with the requisite homophobic remark and proceeded with some of the finest Sri Lankan gay-bashing I've ever heard.

The culmination of 18 years worth of western liberal-arts education was about to explode all over the random. I simply asked said him how he could possibly enjoy a piece of unoriginal shit (Crash) and fail to see the larger meaning hidden in Brokeback. It was then that he very proudly proclaimed he had never seen the movie, nor intended to. Again he thought that by punctuating his remarks with homophobia it would somehow make his idiotic point stronger. Alas, it did not.

I'm not saying that all Sri Lankan males are like this, but there is an alarmingly large amount that are. Perusing some Sri Lankan content on the internet is enough to disgust any sane individual. People in this country still use homophobic phrases to insult each other. Come on boys, grow up, calling someone a faggot as an insult, really?

That's so late 90s.