On weekends and playgrounds.

Alisa:

After successfully completing our first week at the center, our weekend was filled with nothing more strenuous than lounging at the pool, watching the big match (I discovered cricket is not my sport—seven hours is much, much too long. The most exciting part of the match was when the guys “found” a little boy, who liked to dance, and turned him into the unofficial mascot), viewing the final game of the World Cup, and spending time with Steph’s friend Shireen.

Steph:

Shezzie is one of my dear dear friends, and has been from way back in the day. It's been a joy to catch up with her, relive favorite memories and put new ones in place. The cricket match was one of them. The big match is played annually between CIS and Gateway (pppssshhhh...) and for the first time in 4 years, our boys took the trophy home. Not only did we get to witness a well batted win, but we got to dance some prime baila, catch up with friends and last but not least, see Prema, school tea-maker, house keeper and custodian. She is one of those wonderful installments that remains at a given establishment for the entirety of eternity and never changes. Speaking of CIS, we visited school this weekend as well...it was a strange feeling walking down those well trodden staircases and well ambled hallways, but wonderful at the same time.

We also had to bid farewell to our beloved friend, travel partner, partaker in getting charged by elephants and owner of the brightest neon shirt in the history of neon shirts...Ms. Christina Peter. Gah. Chrispet, we miss you already.

Alisa:

Work on Monday was so good. Shireen came and feel in love with the babas. Steph and I got our first taste of visiting the grounds. It was quite the adventure shepherding 16 kids though the busy streets of Kandy town. But, fortunately, we were able to keep track of them all thanks to their bright, matching yellow and red shirts embossed with the words, “I am special” on the back—Steph and I got into the spirit too and also wore our very own matching outfits (things like this happen after living together for a year).

Our time at the grounds was spent playing a rousing game of soccer—I don’t know if I’ve been subconsciously picking up tips from all of the World Cup games we watched or if my ability level is similar to that of 5 and 6 year olds, but the game was quite a success.

Back at the center we did fun things like playing with play-doh and watching a documentary of Sri Lankan animals before heading off to teach computer class. The class, which we had been secretly dreading, was so much fun. We had our English class boys who are a hoot and a half. We learnt typing today—and spent about 30 minutes typing, “The red fish ate the blue fish”. And I really mean we spent 30 minutes typing that sentence. But by the end of the session, Sajeewa, learned the proper way to position his hands on the keys and decided to practice typing sentences for the rest of the class instead of playing games. He also got a trishaw for us, and one for a good deal to boot, after the lesson.

All in all a great day and we can’t wait to see them again tomorrow. We’re bringing a boom box to English class tomorrow afternoon; stay tuned to hear how it turns out.

Love,

Alisa and Steph

More on neon but also street kids.

Hi dear folks, so as busy as we’ve been, updating you on all our adventures in the north, up rocks and down under the sea and such, we’ve kind of gotten a little bit behind on the day to day shenanigans.

We started work on Monday. Was that a shock to our system or was that a shock to our system? It was a shock to our system. But more on that after we tell you about the neon party we so diligently shopped for the other day. As you may recall, Al and I turned Kandy town upside down looking for neon attire for the bash our dear friends would be throwing…and what we found made us look like blazing, luminescent orbs. Also Amish. Wonderful pieces really, but somehow not neon club worthy…nothing a pair of scissors and some creativity couldn’t fix, however, and we left to dance the night away looking just like we needed to.

From so...

...To so.

It was indeed a party worth writing home about with a lighting system that rivaled that of the north star, music that put every club on the island to shame (they played every summer hit necessary, Justin Beiber included) and dancing that lasted about 7 hours. No joke.

We had one day to recover and then we were hit with another ball game altogether…against a team of about 35 kids. We were swiftly and efficiently introduced to Child Action Lanka, an organization that is aiming to work with street parents to get their kids, or the next generation, off the streets.

Center 1 (of three)

We have worked four days now, and every day is becoming easier and more enjoyable as we get to know our kids and get more of a feel for what we are needed to do. In the mornings, it’s the “baby cage”. Al and I take care of about 8 to 10 babies…who are all adorable, stubborn and need attention. We’ve been learning about changing diapers faster than you can say “squirm”, about carrying three babies at once, about how to feed, rock, tickle, cajole and about how being thrown up all over is really not the end of the world. Yep, we had a new little boy who cried for roughly 4 hours straight the first day we were there….pausing only to throw up his orange juice all over my shirt. Twice.

(Side note – Al thought this was hilarious, and he is now known as little Pukey)

The second day he decided he liked me and would stop if I held him. This was all right for about the first hour or three, but then I put him down...and got bit. Things are getting better however and he is slowly learning that crying is not going to get him very far – especially seeing as Al put him on the floor and told him, quite plainly, that he would stay there until he stopped whining. He did. Betwixed these adventures, we’re growing very fond of little Pukey. He really is pretty cute. Also there’s something about a little boy who probably doesn’t get a whole lot of cuddle time, putting his head on your shoulder, his thumb in his mouth and falling asleep because he finally trusts that your not going to hit him or leave him alone.

And the same goes for:

Him.

Him.

And all the other hims and hers that cry, laugh, color, sing, scream, eat and sleep here.

Despite the long hours, the frustrations and unexpected curve balls (teach computer lessons and write up the entire organization’s procedures and policies documents? Why the frick not?), we are quickly falling in love with these kids and with what we’re doing. We come home exhausted but with a certain sense of satisfaction in knowing that it’s really worth it, even if it is only a drop in the bucket. That really is something to thank God about!

So much love,

Alisa and Steph

Hi. We're on an elephant safari...

...and hey, there's one right there...an entire pack even.

On trips of epic proportion - Day 2: Part 1.

Scene 1: Sea, Sand, Sun and Starfish...and the occasional Shark.

Alisa:

After a solid night’s rest and quick cup of coffee we were off to Trinco. We arrived relatively early thanks to the new road and our timely departure from Habarana (who knows Steph and I may be reformed into morning people). Once arriving we made a quick stop to change into our swimsuits and then it was off to the beach. I think we used up almost all three bottles of sunscreen Steph’s mom sent, and made us promise to use, before gathering our gear and boating to Pigeon Island.

On the island we spent the entire afternoon happily snorkeling, well mostly happily after I got over my initial fear of the ocean. Years and years of being warned against the dangers of swimming in the ocean, not to mention the numbing temperature of the Oregon coast, are hard to forget. It completely defied my common sense to learn that it is okay, fun even, to venture into the ocean past my knees. But once I realized I could get into the water without risk of hypothermia, I had a dandy time.

We even saw a shark; and by we I mean Bala, Steph, and Melissa saw a shark. I did get to see lots of cool coral and fish so I’m not too upset I missed out on the shark.

After approximately six hours of snorkeling, sunning, eating, and talking to friendly folks who were enamored with our white, or in Steph’s case pink, skin we headed back to the mainland. At the hotel speedy showers, outfits picked specifically to barely touch sun-toasted bodies, philosophical conversations, much needed drinks, a lively game of Never Have I Ever, and an expansive buffet occurred before we tucked ourselves in at the unheard of hour of ten. I don’t think any of us moved until a loud knock on the door summoned us for an early morning ocean swim. A quick dip in the pool and breakfast followed before we headed home—only stopping once to quench Steph’s craving for Jucieez.

Steph:

Im just going to add a side note here real fast to let you know that should you ever, ever visit the motherland…know that Roots does not hold a match to Juiceez. My soul has been wanting Juiceez’s lovingly concocted nectar of the gods since it left the land of our forefathers years ago…and they tried to tell me that Roots had juice that was just as good. Lies and deception. No fear, my soul was satisfied with the best lime juice it has had the pleasure of drinking down in far too long. Happy happy day. Also, when Al said “pink”, she was being kind. I was the approximate shade of a feverish crayon and felt like an overdone kebab. But you know what, it was the most worth-while sun burn I have ever sported.

Furthermore, it was our delight to come back to our room to find that our beds had been strewn with flowers...my favorite flowers none the less. At any rate, it was better than Bala's situation, who had had his beach towel neatly arranged in the shape of an origami heart upon his covers. How utterly presh.

Below I included a picture of ol' faithful...the jeep that carried us through thick and thin. It deserved a special mention.

One of the best and most jam-packed three-day trips in history.

Seriously.

Love,

Alisa and Steph

On trips of epic proportion - Day 1: Part 2

Scene 3: How to Escape a Herd of Stampeding Elephants.

Remember how we told you that any conversation between Al and anyone, really, went something like this:

General Sri Lankan population: “Hello, where from?”

Alisa: “Hello! I’m from America.”

General Sri Lankan population: “Ah! America! Nice country. Have you seen elephant?”

Well yes, our adventures in Mineriya National Park have ensured, without any room for doubt or query, that Al will never have to answer “no” to that question ever again.

We arrived at the park, the roof off our jeep, our adventurous spirits high, our cameras a’ready and a bag of milky ways in hand…what elephant safari is truly complete without a bag of milky ways, really?

And so our adventure began, with laughs and chit-chat and a peacock or two. It wasn’t until we left the shaggy overhang of the jungle path that we encountered our first herd of elephants grazing in the distance. We all got pretty excited and there were jovial shouts and a general ho-hum about our success, and on we trollied.

And then we met another herd of elephants, this time grazing roughly three feet from our front tires. This would have been absolutely prime, had there not been five other jeeps pushing the elephants back, agitating a protective, new, and very large mother, and consequently making the whole heard rather ruffled.

After a few advances from the mama-phant, we decided, wisely, to move before any real trouble started. We picked our way through the masses and safely sauntered off into the bush to enjoy birds and foxes and another tusker or two…

It was when we realized it was after six, the sun was setting and the park was closed that we realized we should probably not be there any more…what, leave? really? A jungle, festooned with wild and irate animals?

We made it all the way back to where our angry herd was, just to find that they were still very much there and still very much in the same frame of mind. Also they had more or less decided to spread out their vast numbers over the entire terrain, which included our road. The elephants scared me, I won’t lie. Something about 40 elephants being vexed enough to charge your’ relatively little vehicle, with the full intent of reducing it and you to the rough dimensions of a large stamp, really does things for the heart rate.

They were not to be fooled by the attempt at distracting them, so when our driver decided that a U-turn and a head long plough through the brooding mass was a good idea, it really didn’t take long for the entire drove to be upon us, trumpeting and running faster than I ever believed elephants could go. Our driver was a star, but I, a shaky, pale-faced mess, was very close to just laying myself down on the seat and letting cardiac arrest take over. In good faith, lets just say the U-turn was arguably necessary (though after the whole show was said and done, the only thing our friend Bala could manage was “now that was uncalled for”) - what really did nearly send us under the drivers seat praying for sweet mercy and holding our breaths for the end to come, was the 2 seconds during which the jeep stopped:

“just in case the bump ruins the shocks.”

…worn shocks and semi-annoyed dad on one hand…being killed by a stampede of elephants on the other. Decisions, decisions. I did not know I was capable of dropping so fast and am now rethinking my education and considering a future with the fire department. “Drop and roll” never saw a finer candidate.

Probably one of the finer elephant stories in our collective memories. For totes.

After a swift motor to the park gate into a glorious sunset, a few moments stalling due to the fact that we were locked in and a speedy trip home, our fruit juices and BBQd kebabs were oh-so welcome. And then it was bed time.

So much love,

Alisa and Steph

On trips of epic proportion - Day 1: Part 1.

We’re back.

Full of adventures, near-death experiences, early mornings and a shade or two darker to boot. All in all we’d say, despite the grotesquely early mornings, the trip was a success.

Scene 1: A Rock-Solid Morning.

Wednesday morning dawned bright and early as we packed all of our things into the jeep at roughly 5:45 am—we were surprisingly ready and on time. Then we began our trek to Sigiriya, which took about two hours, or approximately one c.d of house music, an introduction to Glee, and an attempt to expose our car-mates to country music. The ride also included a stop for petrol and a much needed bathroom break after our early morning coffees.

The bathroom was an adventure all to itself. I got to try my hand at a squatting toilet; with Steph issuing informative instructions, between peals of laughter, outside the door, “Now put your feet on the blocks, squat down, and just go”. I finally accomplished the task and now I can cross it off my bucket list, no pun intended.

Chirpy hikers

We arrived at the rock and somehow, before even entering, acquired man who insisted on being our guide. Really though, we have no idea what his credentials were. Some of his facts don’t exactly match those featured on Wikipedia so who knows. He told all about the history of the rock—stopping to show us all sorts of interesting things. We learned all about how the freshwater pumps were powered (windmills), how many concubines the king had (500), how the king was entertained (man-made swimming pools and large dancing halls), how many steps it takes to reach the top (1,200), and why only one of the fresco women had a shirt (to cover a mistake made by the artist)—see I was listening and paying attention. I also learned there was a 99% chance that the answer to any question we asked was: man-powered water pump or 500 concubines.

I was a little bit worried that the heat of the hike might be a bit much for me, Sigiriya is much more humid than Kandy, but it wasn’t too bad. It could be because we arrived so early on a rare overcast morning or because I’m getting used to the humidity—I’m praying for the latter.

Although the view at the top of the rock is spectacular, my favorite part of the climb was the frescos. Seeing artwork that old reminded me of AP Art History and Mr. Nickel. The excessive amount of pictures I took would make him proud. The intricacy and history behind each painting was amazing.

After admiring the view from the top and catering to the guide who would instruct us when and where to take pictures, “Excuse me, please. Come here. You take picture now. Come here now. Take picture now.”, he had a very specific plan of what was tourist picture worthy, we tromped back down the steps, battling strong gusts of wind, hopped into the jeep and headed off for the next adventure.

Other visitors

The top

Scene 2: Lake Placid II – The Return of the Gators.

Sweaty, tired and hungry, we piled into the jeep after our jaunt up that 700 foot relic to be revived by AC and packs of milo…for those of you who have never had milo before, it is the chocolate milk that every kid grows up on, the sweeter, thicker, calorie-packed Nesquik of the Asian world, if you will. It is also divine. And something Chris Kyle would drink every day. That got us through till lunch…which naturally was prefaced by a quick dip in the lake. The lake apparently serves as a watering hole for wild elephants, a laundry service for the nearby village and a swimming spot for tuckered kids.

Tuckered kids

Elephant's feet, Al's feet.

Paddling around was delicious, and there really is something satisfactory about mud between your toes. All was well until Bala said “Girls, make a lot of splashes and stay close to the shallows.”

Do tell, dear Bala, why ever would we do that?

As it turns out, he and a hoard of boys were goofing off in the middle of the lake and it was only after they had ignored the sage advise of the villagers, goofed off a little more and had come back in search of elephants later that day, that they discovered a tribe of lounging crocodiles. Crocodiles. Enough splashes were consequently made to simulate the tsunami.

After ensuring that every crocodile and/or elephant in the estimated two mile radius had run for cover, we were endowed with the mother of all picnic lunches. Curry, accompanied robust appetites and corking good company, never tasted so good.

Bala is not a believer in downtime and so it was but a ten minute trek through the jungle before we found ourselves in the jeep again, speeding off to our next adventure: Elephants en mass.

Stay tuned.

Much, much love,

Alisa and Steph