Sweaty in Dambulla
Here I am, covered in probably about 20 layers of sweat in an Internet cafe called "Kopi Kade" in Dambulla. I was barely able to sleep last night, and so after getting up at about 6:30 a.m., I packed up my stuff, had an early breakfast, read the Laker live blog (wasn't on TV), paid off my guesthouse tab, and then headed to the Good Shed bust station in Kandy at 9 a.m. I am running out of cash at this point, but have enough local bills to get me to my next location and some. As luck would have it I arrive at the bus station 15 minutes before the next bus. I grab a seat in the nicely air-conditioned, though cramped third row. 26-year-old Sri Lankan guy named "Chi" sits in the same row on the other side. I can tell he wants to chat. He offers me a piece of gum and he asks me where I'm from, and what I'm doing in Sri Lanka. He works at Amaya Lake, a resort-type hotel in Dambulla. Dressed in jeans, a blue tee-shirt and flip-flops, Chi told me he travels back and forth from Kandy, where his family lives, to work. I'm starting to look for my hydrocortisone cream but can't find it. Chi asks me what's wrong? I tell him I think I left something in my bigger bag, which I had squeezed up in the space near the ceiling. He gets up and grabs it for me, I look through it, and then he pops it back into place. When the ticket man comes by for my 150 rupees, Chi pays for my ticket. As the bus fills up with more and more people (often somewhat shady men), I decide to choose the evil I know, and tell him to squeeze in with me, rather than having some unkempt stranger sit next to me. When we stop to get petrol, I inquire about the bathroom, he gets out and asks around and helps me find an outhouse while the bus waits. Once we're back in the bus, I put my headphones in and try to rest, though Chi asks me questions every now and then. He allows an arm to rest on part of my arm (the seats *are* very cramped), but I move it over to the side, and he moves his arm. "Are you married?" he asks me (I'm probably asked this as many as 10 or so times a day.) Then he asks me, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I'm actually not asked this usually. I decide to answer "yes."
"Then why isn't he with you?"
"Work. He's working."
"Oh."
Then I put my headphones back on and tell him I'm sleepy. He motions to his shoulder, to have me rest on it. I say no thanks. Plus, his shoulder is a couple inches below mine.
The bus ride is supposed to take about 2 to 2.5 hours, but our driver ziggzaggs through traffic on the one-lane-in-each-direction roads. Our full on bus is playing multipe dangerous games of chicken with other buses, motorcycles, passing a row of three vehicles (a truck, a van, and a car) in front of us, while the road is curving. It's great fun. Except for the moment when the bus teeters on the edge of the road and nearly flies out of control down the hill. Then Chi and I look at each other in relief as we straighten back up. That was a close call. As the window-seated person I would have been squished against the road and the mass of humanity. I decide I'd cup my head and hope for the best if such an eventually (G-d forbid) did occur. Then I drift back into sleep.
As we drive through the hills, multiple people continue to practically hop on the bus as it slows down slightly to scoop them up. It looks like fun.
When we finally get to Dambulla, Chi and his other friend on the bus both get out with me and get a tuktuk to my guesthouse. Chi tells me not to worry, he'll pay for it. As luck would have it the guesthouse I wanted to stay at was fully booked, as were most of them, apparently I had the uncanny luck to come during the 10-day cricket festival centered in none other than sleepy lil' Dambulla. Pakistan played Sri Lanka yesterday, and today India was playing Bangladesh. Go figure on my timing. I got the number of a place that have availability from one guesthouse, and Chi gave them a call. They had a room for me. Off we went in the tuktuk. Because three of us were crammed in back, Chi was "forced" to put his arm around me. I leaned forward.
"So I will stay with you tonight?" he asks suddenly.
"Excuse me?"
"I will stay with you in your hotel tonight?"
"No, sorry."
"I will stay with you tonight?"
I decide to try a different tact. "I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that. Remember? Boyfriend?"
"Don't tell boyfriend."
"Uh, no, I can't do that."
A minute later we arrive at Lihini Villa. I check in (room, bathroom, A/C, TV, no Internet -- somewhat pricey, but everything is now with the match), and say goodbye to the guys, shaking their hands. [Side note, Shan called me about three times last night around 11 p.m., after saying a few hours earlier adios for the day. I ignored his calls. So he called later this morning, in between calls from this Chi guy, who ends up calling me on his way to work, right before he's beginning to work, and then as he starts working...he says he'll call me after work. These calls are probably about 15 minutes after I've said goodbye. So this is the Sri Lankan male calling card.]
The town center is a ways away, and I'm near the area that I want to be to look at the Rock Cave Temples, for which Dambulla is famous. I have a huge Sri Lankan lunch (no idea why it was so much food), and then take off for my 1 km walk to the Golden Buddha Temple, behind which are the rock caves. My 1 km walk involves every vehicle beeping at me as I continued along the dirt road and passed some cows snacking away amid trash. Hm, I wonder if I'm eating that type of ill-kept animal product. At the temple I meet Wilson, who I initially am quite wary of, and then he tells me he works there and is not a (self-appointed) guide so common to the area. We chat for a bit while the ticket person is on break. He speaks four languages fluently: English, French, Sinhalese and Tamil. We chat in English and French. He offers to help me find a cheaper guesthouse, but I feel bad ditching my place even though the offer he is making me is 1/3 the price including food. When I tell him I'm headed to Trincomalee, he says a friend named Robert had just come down today with a French couple in his three-wheeler, and he offers to contact him so I can ride up with him for just the gas money. He tells me 1500 rupees initially, before taking it down to 1000 rupees, with a stop over in Sigiriya, where I want to go in the morning anyway. Just to give you an idea, tuktuks charge about 150 rupees to locals for a 2.5 km ride. Trincomalee is about 100 km from Dambulla, not counting the time waiting, etc at Sigiriya. It's a very good deal, if I can trust the guy with my stuff while I hike. That is the question. Alternatively, I can hike with the stuff on my back and leave my clothes with tuktuk...a more likely option I will take, despite how heavy the bag is. The bus ride is only a few hundred rupees (less than 300 rupees) for the entire trip, though I will have to come back to Dambulla for my stuff with a 40-minute ride each way and then try and catch a bus enroute to Trincomalee. Those buses are usually very full from previous stops and hard to get a seat on. The guy, Robert, apparently works at a hotel in Uppuveli beach, which is also where I plan to go. The hotel is in the Lonely Planet guide. I give Wilson my number, and tell him to have Robert contact me. I tell Wilson I will see him after the caves.
I have to buy 1150 rupees ticket to enter the caves. Again, the foreigner's tax. Then I get to hike up about 12 different sets of stairs up to the top of the mountain. It would be, and actually was quite, picturesque if not for all the beggars and sales people along the sides. Everything is green and there was a beautiful breeze which helped dry some of my dripping sweat. There are five separate cave temples with multiple reclining Buddhas, beautiful cave paintings, among other art. A water jug is filled in one of the caves by water leaking from the ceiling, even during times of drought.
After I walked around, barefoot, because I had to give up my shoes (not only is it mandatory, but then an English sign (no local language, of course) says you must pay 25 rupees to get them back!)...I took some photos. There were tons of soldiers all over the area doing a mid-career training exercise. It was a joint-forces effort with the Sri Lankan army, navy, and air force all present. A group of them were studying a map spread out on the floor. I ended up getting into a conversation with a Colonel Pradnesa (sp?) of the army and Commander Sarika of the navy. I am sure I butchered both their names. It was an interesting conversation as I told them what I did in the IZ, and they related to me their own tales. They've both been with the Sri Lankan military for 25 years, and so had seen the worst of the 30-year civil war up through last year when most of the hostilies were more or less over. I asked them about the security situation in Trinco and whether I needed a navy escort to Pigeon Island still. They both told me there have been nearly no incidents over the last year, and it is a lot lot better, if not hopefully over. It was cool talking to them because they asked quite informed questions about Iraq and the situation there, and also about the general development efforts and whether that was truly feasible in such a climate. They drew on a lot of their experiences over the last 25 years in the military. And it was a nice respite to sit on the bench with them near the temple at the top of the hill and chat. Before I left I snapped a quick shot with them, wished them well, and said goodbye.
Then it was back down the hill. A man was selling carved wooden "Magic Boxes"--also on ebony box (beautiful!)--that opened up after much finagling. It was very very cool, but extremely overpriced (as one would think). Because I had barely any cash with me, I didn't even consider bargaining, as he tried to begin the negotiation. I told him any offer would be an insult to his hard work as I had very little money on me. When he offered to meet me later, I told him that in general I was a cheap traveler, and his efforts were best served with others. I thanked him and left.
When I got to the bottom of the hill I stopped by the toilet (5 rupees!)...I splashed some water on my face, and dripping walked out. Suddenly Wilson had appeared. How? I'm not quite sure. He walked out with me, helped me hail a tuktuk to head to this Internet cafe (he knows them, and told me to give them his name), and here I am. He gave me the price of the tuktuk so I wouldn't get ripped off -- it was definitely the local price considering the distance, and the net cafe is the fastest cheapest place I've been to in Sri Lanka thus far (60 rupees for an hour). Whew. Okay, my fingers hurt. The plan now is to walk over to the bank, pray my card isn't blocked and get more cash, or change some money...and then head back to the hotel. Maybe I'll swim if the water and surrounding area doesn't look dirty and mosquito-ridden. That's a big if. Then it's dinner at the hotel and I guess an early night, especially as I've got no Internet where I'm staying. I'll be up at 6:30/7 a.m. to head to Sigiriya. Oh yeah, andI'll see if I chat with Robert. Need to figure all that out.
Ciao for now.
IJW
"Then why isn't he with you?"
"Work. He's working."
"Oh."
Then I put my headphones back on and tell him I'm sleepy. He motions to his shoulder, to have me rest on it. I say no thanks. Plus, his shoulder is a couple inches below mine.
The bus ride is supposed to take about 2 to 2.5 hours, but our driver ziggzaggs through traffic on the one-lane-in-each-direction roads. Our full on bus is playing multipe dangerous games of chicken with other buses, motorcycles, passing a row of three vehicles (a truck, a van, and a car) in front of us, while the road is curving. It's great fun. Except for the moment when the bus teeters on the edge of the road and nearly flies out of control down the hill. Then Chi and I look at each other in relief as we straighten back up. That was a close call. As the window-seated person I would have been squished against the road and the mass of humanity. I decide I'd cup my head and hope for the best if such an eventually (G-d forbid) did occur. Then I drift back into sleep.
As we drive through the hills, multiple people continue to practically hop on the bus as it slows down slightly to scoop them up. It looks like fun.
When we finally get to Dambulla, Chi and his other friend on the bus both get out with me and get a tuktuk to my guesthouse. Chi tells me not to worry, he'll pay for it. As luck would have it the guesthouse I wanted to stay at was fully booked, as were most of them, apparently I had the uncanny luck to come during the 10-day cricket festival centered in none other than sleepy lil' Dambulla. Pakistan played Sri Lanka yesterday, and today India was playing Bangladesh. Go figure on my timing. I got the number of a place that have availability from one guesthouse, and Chi gave them a call. They had a room for me. Off we went in the tuktuk. Because three of us were crammed in back, Chi was "forced" to put his arm around me. I leaned forward.
"So I will stay with you tonight?" he asks suddenly.
"Excuse me?"
"I will stay with you in your hotel tonight?"
"No, sorry."
"I will stay with you tonight?"
I decide to try a different tact. "I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that. Remember? Boyfriend?"
"Don't tell boyfriend."
"Uh, no, I can't do that."
A minute later we arrive at Lihini Villa. I check in (room, bathroom, A/C, TV, no Internet -- somewhat pricey, but everything is now with the match), and say goodbye to the guys, shaking their hands. [Side note, Shan called me about three times last night around 11 p.m., after saying a few hours earlier adios for the day. I ignored his calls. So he called later this morning, in between calls from this Chi guy, who ends up calling me on his way to work, right before he's beginning to work, and then as he starts working...he says he'll call me after work. These calls are probably about 15 minutes after I've said goodbye. So this is the Sri Lankan male calling card.]
The town center is a ways away, and I'm near the area that I want to be to look at the Rock Cave Temples, for which Dambulla is famous. I have a huge Sri Lankan lunch (no idea why it was so much food), and then take off for my 1 km walk to the Golden Buddha Temple, behind which are the rock caves. My 1 km walk involves every vehicle beeping at me as I continued along the dirt road and passed some cows snacking away amid trash. Hm, I wonder if I'm eating that type of ill-kept animal product. At the temple I meet Wilson, who I initially am quite wary of, and then he tells me he works there and is not a (self-appointed) guide so common to the area. We chat for a bit while the ticket person is on break. He speaks four languages fluently: English, French, Sinhalese and Tamil. We chat in English and French. He offers to help me find a cheaper guesthouse, but I feel bad ditching my place even though the offer he is making me is 1/3 the price including food. When I tell him I'm headed to Trincomalee, he says a friend named Robert had just come down today with a French couple in his three-wheeler, and he offers to contact him so I can ride up with him for just the gas money. He tells me 1500 rupees initially, before taking it down to 1000 rupees, with a stop over in Sigiriya, where I want to go in the morning anyway. Just to give you an idea, tuktuks charge about 150 rupees to locals for a 2.5 km ride. Trincomalee is about 100 km from Dambulla, not counting the time waiting, etc at Sigiriya. It's a very good deal, if I can trust the guy with my stuff while I hike. That is the question. Alternatively, I can hike with the stuff on my back and leave my clothes with tuktuk...a more likely option I will take, despite how heavy the bag is. The bus ride is only a few hundred rupees (less than 300 rupees) for the entire trip, though I will have to come back to Dambulla for my stuff with a 40-minute ride each way and then try and catch a bus enroute to Trincomalee. Those buses are usually very full from previous stops and hard to get a seat on. The guy, Robert, apparently works at a hotel in Uppuveli beach, which is also where I plan to go. The hotel is in the Lonely Planet guide. I give Wilson my number, and tell him to have Robert contact me. I tell Wilson I will see him after the caves.
I have to buy 1150 rupees ticket to enter the caves. Again, the foreigner's tax. Then I get to hike up about 12 different sets of stairs up to the top of the mountain. It would be, and actually was quite, picturesque if not for all the beggars and sales people along the sides. Everything is green and there was a beautiful breeze which helped dry some of my dripping sweat. There are five separate cave temples with multiple reclining Buddhas, beautiful cave paintings, among other art. A water jug is filled in one of the caves by water leaking from the ceiling, even during times of drought.
After I walked around, barefoot, because I had to give up my shoes (not only is it mandatory, but then an English sign (no local language, of course) says you must pay 25 rupees to get them back!)...I took some photos. There were tons of soldiers all over the area doing a mid-career training exercise. It was a joint-forces effort with the Sri Lankan army, navy, and air force all present. A group of them were studying a map spread out on the floor. I ended up getting into a conversation with a Colonel Pradnesa (sp?) of the army and Commander Sarika of the navy. I am sure I butchered both their names. It was an interesting conversation as I told them what I did in the IZ, and they related to me their own tales. They've both been with the Sri Lankan military for 25 years, and so had seen the worst of the 30-year civil war up through last year when most of the hostilies were more or less over. I asked them about the security situation in Trinco and whether I needed a navy escort to Pigeon Island still. They both told me there have been nearly no incidents over the last year, and it is a lot lot better, if not hopefully over. It was cool talking to them because they asked quite informed questions about Iraq and the situation there, and also about the general development efforts and whether that was truly feasible in such a climate. They drew on a lot of their experiences over the last 25 years in the military. And it was a nice respite to sit on the bench with them near the temple at the top of the hill and chat. Before I left I snapped a quick shot with them, wished them well, and said goodbye.
Then it was back down the hill. A man was selling carved wooden "Magic Boxes"--also on ebony box (beautiful!)--that opened up after much finagling. It was very very cool, but extremely overpriced (as one would think). Because I had barely any cash with me, I didn't even consider bargaining, as he tried to begin the negotiation. I told him any offer would be an insult to his hard work as I had very little money on me. When he offered to meet me later, I told him that in general I was a cheap traveler, and his efforts were best served with others. I thanked him and left.
When I got to the bottom of the hill I stopped by the toilet (5 rupees!)...I splashed some water on my face, and dripping walked out. Suddenly Wilson had appeared. How? I'm not quite sure. He walked out with me, helped me hail a tuktuk to head to this Internet cafe (he knows them, and told me to give them his name), and here I am. He gave me the price of the tuktuk so I wouldn't get ripped off -- it was definitely the local price considering the distance, and the net cafe is the fastest cheapest place I've been to in Sri Lanka thus far (60 rupees for an hour). Whew. Okay, my fingers hurt. The plan now is to walk over to the bank, pray my card isn't blocked and get more cash, or change some money...and then head back to the hotel. Maybe I'll swim if the water and surrounding area doesn't look dirty and mosquito-ridden. That's a big if. Then it's dinner at the hotel and I guess an early night, especially as I've got no Internet where I'm staying. I'll be up at 6:30/7 a.m. to head to Sigiriya. Oh yeah, andI'll see if I chat with Robert. Need to figure all that out.
Ciao for now.
IJW
posted by IJW at 4:06 PM
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