The devil I know...

Ah beautiful Arugam Bay. It's really nice here. Last night, after a quick afternoon nap, I went over to watch the USA vs. Algeria came at Siam House. They put up a big projector on the roof and while the England vs. Slovenia match played down at the beach bar, Alfonso and I practically had the entire roof to ourselves. It was like a movie theater all for us. I got a 250 rupees Lion beer bottle and sat back to watch the game. What a game it was! It wasn't til stoppage (extra) time in the second half that Landon Donovan scored. So many missed opportunities, but with that kick, we made it to the top of our group (and just avoided being eliminated). Alfonso and I and another guy, Rob (details to come) hugged in celebration. And I burned my arm on the ashes of Alfonso's cigarette. Ouch! England and the USA will carry on, with us topping England for first in our group, which means, supposedly, we will play an easier opponent in the next rounds. Woot!

The only other person up there watching the game with us was Rob, a 36-year-old American from San Francisco (originally from Pennsylvania). He was traveling two weeks in Sri Lanka and two in Barcelona. A surfer, he had a month off from his job as a software engineer, and so was trying to make the most of it; he hadn't had a chance to hit the waves because of the competition going on (all the pros hogging up the surf breaks).

After the game finished up, Alfonso and I went to scrounge for food. The Thai kitchen had gone on strike at Siam House, and so we headed off along the street talking with random food stall (most places were closed). We finally ended up at Alfonso's guesthouse where they cooked us a delicious dinner of vegetables and rice with garlic/onion prawns and barbecued tuna as well. Mmmm. Alfonso not only paid for dinner but he wouldn't let me grab beers for both of us earlier. The guy, who is 46 years old and currently unemployed, is traveling on as little money as possible, scrounging every which way. He is a small, very sweet man, with 30 cats and five dogs at home. He lives with his brother, who is 48 years old, in a mountain/beach tourist area of Spain called Finistrad (sp?).

Anyway, after dinner Alfonso walked me back to my guesthouse for the night. We made plans to meet the next morning at 9 a.m. to watch the finals of the Australain Surfing Professionals competition, Arugam Bay's first such competition. A'Bay is supposedly one of the top 10 surfing areas in the world, and there has been great effort to make it more popular not only because of this but also as part of post-tsunami recovery efforts. Tee-shirts in the area say "Birth of a surfing nation." Many locals are trying to learn the sport, and Sri Lankan Airlines as well as the Ministry of Sports was represented as big sponsors of the event.

As luck would have it, my hotel was locked on the street side. So it was back over to Siam House so that I could access it beach side. While I was there, I ran back into Rob, who had mentioned us all grabbing a drink after dinner anyway. He was talking with a 27-year-old Scottish guy from Glasgow named Grant. We all chatted away. Simon, the Siam House manager, helped me select Arrack as my poison of choice. He called it jungle juice, though it's the local liquor. I got a double shot neat, for the price of one. More than an hour later I was still working my way through the second shot. I got some coke to mix it up. Simon meanwhile told me some guy had been asking after me, an Aussie surfer, big tall guy. Strange, I hadn't seen any random big tall people around earlier, and there weren't many people about. Anyway, I carried on chatting with Rob and Grant. Oh, sidenote, I forgot to mention a somewhat disgusting incident. I went to the bathroom here with my water bottle, and immediately the whole thing flew into the toilet, top first. I hadn't used the toilet yet, so I pulled it out, and on the top was a bunch of crap all gooed up along it...Yum. Okay, detour finished. Grant enjoyed that story later, after Rob left, and he got me a new water bottle for my troubles. Grant had recently been to California to visit his girlfriend, who he met is Seoul (weird world). We had a good time chatting, and soon decided to call it a night after I finally finished my Arrack. Grant walked me back along the beach to my place, and in 30 minutes I was dead asleep. It was probably about 2 a.m.

At about 8:30 a.m. I crawled out of bed exhausted. The surfing finals started at about 7:45 a.m. and were supposed to finish by about 10 or 11 a.m. I met up with Alfonso on the beach at 9 a.m. and we got to "the Point" just as the semi finals were underway. A Californian from Santa Cruz named "Nat" uh, I forget his last name, ended up in the finals against an Aussie. The Californian was very very young, still lanky with braces, but had placed quite highly in different competitions. He was a go big, or go home type of guy. I wished him luck in the finals, but can't help thinking I maybe cursed his chances? The Aussie was older and stronger looking, and he ended up getting better waves, and winning. It was a pity.

The beach was blazing, and with hardly any shade. I applied what little sunblock I had left wherever I could, and tried to seek shelter behind, next too, and around palm trees. But crowds of all colors were out, and it was buzzing on the beach, with women in saris, boys and girls in school uniforms, police officers in uniform, Westerners and Sri Lankans.

After the festivities Alfonso and I went to scrounge for food, starved. We stopped by a bakehouse along the way, and got some of the doughy stuffed treats, a beer and water. I was famished, and so very happy to eat. Alfonso wouldn't let me pay again. He's supposedly making a trip to California at some point, and so I will take him out in return.

With lunch over, it was finally time to swim. I headed back to my place to change, and told Alfonso I'd meet him on the beach. The beach was beautiful, with mostly locals hitting the water for a swim. A large group of Muslim Sri Lankan students (this is a Tamil/Muslim area), played along the edge of the water, the boys venturing in a bit more, and the girls with their heads covered along the edge of the sand. Their screams and laughter filled the beach. The dip was very refreshing, the water a bit chilly, but not cold. I didn't have my contacts in, but it was daytime and I am trying to save my extra lenses (they're disposable). Anyway, I swam about in the peaceful, pool-like bay area of A'Bay, which is rather shallow as well. I found two Sri Lankan guys swimming toward me and near me. One of them asking about a camera, and pointing inland. A guy was on the beach with a video camera. I decided to swim a bit further away. "Where are you going?" I told them I was swimming. As I swam, they started swimming along next to me. I stopped, and squinted about for Alfonso. I thought I saw him with a couple of Sri Lankan guys as well, talking in the water about 20 meters away. "Do you have a boyfriend?" one guy asked me. Yes, I said, pointing to Alfonso's general whereabouts. They swam silently along near me. After a while I headed inland again, and Alfonso swam over to me too. One guy seemed to be scared of getting in the water, or else it was too cold for him, or both perhaps. He eventually approached slowly letting himself submerge in water. With Alfonso next to me (no need to have things oddly interpreted), I splashed him with water. He shrieked, but eventually made it in. Alfonso and I headed out of the water to explore another part of the beach. He stopped to take photos of the schoolchildren, but I had no camera. Meanwhile, a few of the Sri Lankans we'd been swimming with gave us handfuls of peanuts. One of the guys said some strange words to me about not leaving. I didn't listen to him.

Alfonso started taking photos of the schoolchildren. I decided to go grab my camera. But by the time I made it back, they had already turned inland from the water. I headed back to drop off my camera. As I walked over, three Sri Lankan guys started walking over behind me. I turned around and they said some stuff to me, but I'm not really sure what. I didn't feel comfortable, and so I decided to take a photo. In the picture, one of the guys, wearing a Speedo, is starting to walk toward me. I snap the shot, but start walking almost immediately as I do. I pass my guesthouse in my haste, and turn back around. When I do turn around, Ramesh, the Sri Lankan owner of the guesthouse has come out and asks me if I'm okay. I tell him yes, very relieved to see him. I walk in and drop off the camera. He tells me afterward not to worry about the "local boys" that they're just excited to see a woman in a swimsuit, and that the police are right next door if there's a problem.

I head back out to meet up with Alfonso, who is chatting with the guys and some fishermen. "Very nice people, very very nice," he tells me. I can't help wondering if he's having the same experience as me with the "nice people." Yes, they are very friendly...

We walk down over to "the jungle" as Alfonso calls it. The ocean is rougher here, but we have a good time swimming about until Alfonso realizes he's lost his sandals! I stand watch over our stuff as he scours the beach are for them, walking back along the way to where we were last. As I stand there, the Speedo man walks over, less than six inches away from me, standing in my personal space. "One kiss please," he says, leering at me. He's probably somewhere between 19 and 22 years old. "No," I tell him.

"Why not? One kiss, one? Just one please."

"My boyfriend is right there," I point over toward Alfonso, down the coast.

The guy is standing with his back to the coastline, turns around with a glance, and moves closer to me (I move back). "He no see."

"No," I tell him. I walk a few steps away, trying to stay near our stuff, and annoyed now that I'm in this position. A girl has just put her towel down about 20 feet away and is lying on it reading.

Three other guys are walking over too. The guy has continued saying things in a pleading tone, but I'm not listening. I cross my arms and imagine myself far away, sending out distancing vibes..."Kindly, kindly...please, please...one kiss..." are just the few words I hear, but I try to tune them out. I look over at the police station about 50 feet away, but I can't see any police there. After what feels like a million years, but is probably about 10 minutes, Alfonso is on his way back. When he's about 10 feet away, the Speedo man makes another last ditch effort. I turn sideways to him, ignoring him. Then Alfonso is back, sandal-less. I watch the guys as I talk to him, letting them know I am telling him exactly what happened (though it's not clear if he can completely understand me with his pidgin English and my non-existent Spanish). The guys know I'm talking about them, and they try and distract with a "Ma'am, ma'am!" random call. Alfonso gets my gist. He tells me the fishermen warned him about the guy, that he's a very bad, dangerous man. Alfonso tells me to be careful. Then he turns around and walks over to the Speedo man, stands in front of him, and stares and him, and says "Stop! Okay?" and shakes his hand. The guy says "Okay."

We turn around and walk down the beach, looking for the sandals again (these things were cheap flip-flops, but had traveled with Alfonso through Malaysia, China, India, and multiple other places). We walk to the other end, but still can't find them. We decide to take another quick refreshing dip in the pool-like area. As we swim about, Sri Lankan guys start getting near us. One of them had earlier tried to rub his foot against mine under water, so I'm keeping my distance. Suddenly I feel something on my butt and back. I turn around and it's the hand of the dude who was scared of water, not scared of other things, apparently...

I give Alfonso a look and swim over to him, and he comes next to me and asks me what happened. I tell him. He puts his arms around me, and tells the guys, "Mine," trying to make space between what is now a pretty close Sri Lankan circle of dudes. They are smiling, but I don't think they are really getting it. Alfonso is respectful in his "boyfriend-like" caresses, though I'm wondering what I signed up for. After a minute, Alfonso tells me in his broken Spanish, "This very difficult for me, now, beautiful woman, no easy for me." He gives me another hug from behind and we move away from the Sri Lankan circle toward more space and closer to the beach. "Now I'm a bad man," Alfonso says, drawing a line in the ocean between himself and me. I laugh somewhat nervously, and he dunks himself into the water, and swims about. After a minute, we walk out of the water onto the beach. It's time for the afternoon siesta. Alfonso will continue searching for his sandals, and I will head back to my place to shower and chill for a bit. We decide to meet up again at 6 p.m. for the surfing competition's final party. He walks me back to my place and I take a lovely shower, then cut up my remaining (somewhat fermenting) mango for a small treat. Then it's off to the bar for the Internet. Though currently the net isn't working, at least I got to write this up. Okay, I think I will go for some ice cream now. Whew it's hot.

Hasta luego.

IJW