It's gettin' better...

As I type this, I'm watching the World Cub Argentina versus Nigeria game kick off. I also just heard a loud boom. It's kind of nice not to wonder if that's incoming of some sort, though I guess here it could be a bomb. Anyway, "the war is over"--according to every local I've spoken to here. The other night at the B&B I kept hearing things slam, and I kept thinking it was incoming while I was asleep. Funny.

It's been another crazy day. Though I never finished blogging my evening of my first day here. After I left the net cafe, I decided to try and walk over on Galle Road to a more populated area. I walked through the larger military "Fort" area, and then continued onward by the sea. Little did I realize the fact that the entire area was nearly deserted and very dark, with little access up to a connecting major road or commercial area. The only people around were in random cars swerving along and beeping at me on the main road. It was becoming a rather uncomfortable, hairy situation, as I shifted my bag strap over so it was in front of me and not visible by cars zooming by on my side from behind (they drive on the "wrong" side of the road here). After a couple kilometers of very swift walking, a not-as-shady-seeming taxi driver stopped by. I hopped in, and he took me to a nearby hotel. I was very thankful and gave him 100 rupees "whatever you want to pay ma'am"...for the two minute ride.

Eventually I found my way to a nearby bar called "On the Green" where they were showing the World Cup! I'd just missed the opening South Africa/Mexico game by a few minutes. I was pissed. I'd been trying to find a place to watch it for the last hour -- hence the walking. Oh well. I ended up chatting with the people at the bar, which included a group of very friendly Sri Lankans, one of which was Demetri a cricket player in town from Canada for matches who had lived in South Africa ("Jo-burg") for eight years, and was now in Canada. The other Dinendre, a management-track business dude who had attended the London School of Economics, and was now working back home in Colombo. We all chatted a bit waiting for the France v. Uruguay game at midnight. As I'd spent the entire day wandering about, I was still in my shorts and tee-shirt with a giant umbrella rainbow and a raincoat. It was hardly night-life stylish. Dinendre offered to take me back to change--he had a car. I agreed. The group was going to go clubbing later on that night at "Mojo's" at the Taj Sumadra Hotel. It'd been ages since I've been clubbing.

My only worry was the fact that my B&B owner had a closed gate at night and the housekeeper woud have to wake up each time I went in and out of the house. It was already 11:30 p.m. or so. The housekeeper let me in, and Dinendre told him the plan was for me to be back by 3 a.m. if that was OK. The housekeeper said to ring the bell when I got back. My car ride featured some interesting conversation. Little did I know that American travelers are so rare in Sri Lanka, but even more so, they are very much beloved by Sri Lankans (or the ones I have met). I met a man my first day who said I was the first American he ever met. "French, German come, American, no come." Dinendre, who had an American flag pattern on the inside of his wallet, told me, among other things: "The war is over." "Sri Lanka loves tourists. You will be treated very well." "We are ready for Americans." "We know everything about Americans, we keep up with everything, everything about the country, the politics, the news, Lindsay Lohan." " I've never related or had these conversations with other foreigners as much as with you. I think Sri Lankans relate better to Americans than foreigners." Needless to say, I felt like there was a bit of enchanted "star" status going on. Nothing I've ever experienced before while traveling. In fact, it's usually been the opposite. "American"--said with trepidation...

Oh, on another side note, as we were driving back to the club we were pulled over at checkpoints twice by soldiers who checked all our papers. I gave them my CAC card, since I didn't have my passport with me, and Dinandre told them I was with "The Embassy"--"They don't give any trouble to Embassy workers, and just let them pass." Apparently lots of people are asked to get out of the car, and that's how they often catch DUIs. When I asked Dinandre what Embassy he meant, he replied, "The American"...in a "isn't-it-obvious" way. As an American who hasn't traveled much prior to Sept. 11, this was a novel experience.

Dinendre expressed pure delight at the war being over. He told it was refreshing to see the country seem normal over the last few years. Prior checkpoints and soldiers were everywhere. Every car was stopped. Dinendre told me since he was born during the war, he hadn't seen what peace could look like. The roughly 30-civil war tore up the country among its Sinhalese and Tamil ethnicities as terrorists bombed all portions of Sri Lanka and wrought havoc on civilians. I'd write more about this, but I will save that for when I am more informed as it is an especially tense topic for those who are apart of it and/or familiar with its details.

Anyway, before we headed to the club, we met the rest of the group at "The Mix"--a bar at the same hotel, where they had the game one. At about 1 a.m. we headed into the club, which allowed girls in free (well "couples" for 1000 rupees or men 2000 rupees). The music was amazing: house mixed blend with techno beat at times and R&B. And almost every song I'd wanted to dance to in the real world for the last year. Behind the dance floor was a glittery screen backlit with a large projection of the France/Uruguay match on it. It was dreamland. It was also very very hot. Unlike American bars there were bottles of liquor, Bacardi, Jack Daniels, etc...strewn on tables with buckets of ice. It seemed people had bought the actual bottles and were mixing drinks at their tables. I was trying to drink plenty of water, though I had no small change to pay 100 rupees each time. The bartenders somewhat scowled and gave it to me free...

At about 2:30 a.m. Dinendre and I headed back to the car so I could get to my place in time. I picked his brain for spots to hit up in Colombo and throughout the country on the ride back. Then it was B&B sweet B&B. The housekeeper unhappily let me into the place. "Breakfast what time?" he asked. "9:30?" which was when I'd had it the day prior. "10?" He said "9:30"...Okay, sleep would be short.

***

In the morning I woke up exhausted. After I snacked on breakfast I went back to my room intending to sleep. However, the B&B owner came by to say hello. He proceeded to tell me how worried he'd been all night, how he hadn't slept and then he had been woken up, how he'd contacted his daughter in the UK and how he'd planned to notify the police, but didn't have my information. I guess he also doesn't talk to his housekeeper. I felt terrible about the whole thing. He told me to try and get back early tonight. Well...the USA v. England match is on tonight and starts at midnight. Clearly that would be problematic. I ended up giving him all my information, but then paying for the two nights I'd spent there already. It was time to move on to a more central location, especially if I was planning to take the 7 a.m. train to Kandy Sunday.

I called up two hotels I'd been weighing, and decided on the nicer one. Since I would be paying a lot more regardless, I might as well get top-end instead of mid-range. The family tuktuk driver took me to the Cinnamon Garden Hotel for 500 rupees, or a little less than $5. A decent deal. Once I got to my room I got ready to go grab lunch. The Crescat Boulevard is a shopping mall located near by hotel. Downstairs in the food court I got a gigantic heaping plate of food for less than $3, plus a glass of watermelon juice and a glass of mango jucie for less than $2. Grand total for lunch...less than $5. Not bad. And this is tourist area...as I am watching my stomach on street food.

From there I went to the National Museum. I happily haggled with the tuktuk driver, getting him to take me for 200 rupees, or 100 below his initial asking price. At the museum, where I had been told by another tuktuk driver that it would cost me 1000 rupees to enter, they allowed me to pay for a student ticket (child's price) of 300 rupees. The adult ticket, by the way, was 500 rupees.

The museum was pretty impressive. It was amazing seeing how many different countries have left their mark on this small island nation. There was a very cool carving with Chinese, Farsi and Tamil writing etched into it. Though it cost 250 rupees to take photos, the museum staff urged me to take as many shots as I wanted, sometimes asking me to pose with the items as they snuck shots of them. It was a bit strange, but nice. As I went through the rooms, they would randomly point out something I'd failed to scrutinize closely enough, or direct me to a particularly historic object. One of the staffers told me I could stay at his house and he would take me to Kandy tomorrow, and drive me around the countryside. He told me he lived alone and could easily house me. When I told him I didn't think my parents would think well of the idea, he told me to "bring my parents and my friend too." I wondered what friend he meant, but decided to not go into it. He made me swear that next year when I visit I would call him up and go with him, his wife (suddenly he has a wife?), and his two kids, a boy and a girl (everyone here has one boy and one girl...)...and tour me around. I promised him that if I had the chance to come back, and was able to, with my parents and "friend," that I would do just that. "Swear swear?" he said, in his broken English. I do believe I didn't understand a large part of what he was saying, which may be why I couldn't follow his non-existence, existence of a wife, family, etc. Eh, maybe not.

Anyway, after the museum, I was exhausted and covered in multiple sticky layers of sweat. It is very humid here. A tuktuk driver happened to slow down as I walked over, and I told him 200 back to the hotel. He said 350, I said 250. He said 300. I said "c'mon man...etc, etc," grabbed onto his tuktuk, and got in: 250 it was. Soon I was back at the hotel. I went for a quick dip in the pool, showered, and then ordered some room service dinner. A chicken burger with fries and hot and sour soup cost me $7 via room service. Can you imagine what it would cost outside? That said, I knew I wouldn't get sick, so it was worth it. After dinner I dashed out to a massage appointment I'd made at "Ceylon Spa"--I believe it's called. I must say, the "spa" itself was a huge disappointment. I don't really think the individuals who work there are incredibly well trained. And boy, was the A/C on high in those rooms. Regardless, it was nice to just lie down. Would have been nicer if a private party nearby had not been blasting music -- though it wasn't very relaxing music, at least I liked the stuff. I'd been incredibly lucky so far tonight in that each time I left the hotel it was pouring rain, but a tuktuk was just nearby. On the way out I grabbed another ride, they gave me a price, but knew I was basically a captive audience on a side-street in the rain, alone at night. I paid the man 300 rupees (or less than $3) for the quick ride back to the hotel.

Then it was off to the soccer match at "Cheers" pub, on the ground floor of the Cinnamon Grand hotel. All I will say about the pub is that it actually has amazing potato wedges! Amazingly delicious. I fear the caloric intake of my night at the pub. I suppose the vision of the next few months in Baghdad, with the gym as my sole escape, somewhat tempers things. Oh man, the potato wedges were so hot and crispy, and potato-y. I highly recommend them. Anyway, I'm absolutely exhausted now. I have a separate post on the match itself. I want to watch the Lakers play, but I don't know if I can get up in 2.5 hours...nor do I believe I can easily fall asleep right now either. Ugh. Tomorrow I head out of Colombo, after roughly 52 hours in town, and into "hill country" -- next stop Kandy!