Easing into it

On arrival in Kandy I (being a creature of habit) retraced my steps from last summer to the Expeditor Inn, a friendly, clean and well-run estabilshment on the southern shore of the man-made lake carrying the city's name. It is a magical lake, adding a sense of open space to the otherwise congested capital of the Sri Lankan hill country. Over and around it flocks colourful birds. In it swims the awesome-looking water monitors. On it's promenade awaits predators the arrival of new prey - clever touts spotting a tourists from afar. But these are desperate times for the touts and hawkers of Kandy, and anyone else relying on the tourists for there income here. The tsunami, and in particular the media coverage of it, has done a lot to frighten people from coming, causing them to scratch Sri Lanka off their itineraries, regardless of the fact that only a small portion of the island (although a large part of it's coastline) was directly affected. Far more devastating for many in the tourist industry than the tsunami itself, is the deterring effect it has had on would-be tourists. Even in several of the badly affected areas, there are hotels and guest houses up and running, but noone to cater to. In Kandy, December to April should be peak season. Last year at this time the Expeditor was full and had to turn down arriving tourists who had not booked in advance. Now they have no bookings until mid-February.

There are a number of rumours out there among travellers, one being that this is not a good time to go to Sri Lanka since one will be taking up unnecessary capacity, using resources needed elsewhere and be in the way of relief workers. This is as far as I can tell plain wrong. Sri Lanka has never needed tourism like now. The phase of immediate relief is over and the rebuilding has begun. In order for a sense of normalcy to settle, the return of tourists (especially the independent travellers who support the smaller hotels and guest houses) and the capital they bring, is of paramount importance. So don't be scared. Come to Sri Lanka. This is my appeal to you.

That being said, let's get back to me! Before leaving Colombo I had a meeting with the Lankan anthropologist Malathi de Alwis who gave me good advice and who furthermore agreed that the University of Peradeniya would probably be a good choice of field for me - this mainly because it is a residential campus as opposed to the University of Colombo. I was only too glad, the next day, to get on a train into the hill country. Colombo had little more to offer me it seemed and the cooler climate of the hills seemed tempting. Peradeniya is a fairly small town on the outskirts of Kandy, only a 20 minute and over-crowded bus ride away from the city center. But the effort is worth it. Tourists linger for hours in its well kept botanical gardens (one of the best in south Asia I would think) - a welcome retreat from the roaring noise and exhaust fumes of the city. On my first excursion to the university campus I was pleased to discover that it was almost like an extension of the gardens. It is a spacious, green and peaceful plot of land where buildings don't compete for space but dwell harmoniously in the landscape. Their faded yellow-rusty color betrays their age and gives them a rather ancient feel - a feeling added to by a visible lack of maintenance. But the university, although being the oldest in Sri Lanka, only rounded the age of 60 a couple of years ago, and during it's first 10 years it was located in Colombo while the present campus was being prepared. Initially it was a very successfull institution and grew quickly in size and popularity. However, as more universities were being built, a lack of funding and qualified personel, constant university reforms and student unrest plunged the universities into a deep crises. The 70's and 80's was a turbulent period and many of the leaders of the insurgencies of that time were recruited from campuses such as Peradeniya. This, along with a tradition of violent ragging, made the universities insecure and poorly equipped in the task of educating the younger generation. It seems they are only now recovering, but it is a long process and the universities, Peradeniya included, still face many problems. But I'm getting ahead of myself. The campus was a quit place indeed, with little hinting of a violent past, when I paid it my first visit. This because of is tranquil setting, but also because I had come on a poya day, a buddhist holiday, and certainly a holy day, marked by the full moon. The campus was pretty much deserted except for young couples here and there, on a bench under the shade of a tree (it seems it is completely acceptable for young men and women to show eachother affection in public in Sri Lanka, as opposed to in India, although you will rarely see anyone kiss). I left them to themselves, sending a thought to my girlfriend Silje in Belfast, and went on exploring. I had come to get my bearings straight. To locate a few key buildings. To ease into the fieldwork.

Easing into it is what I'm still trying to do I suppose, after a week in Kandy. I am still living at the Expeditor, having most of my meals there, and making daily excursions to the university. I have talked to a few people there and had a positive discussion with Dr Sumedha Sivamohan, head of the English department. I have yet to talk to the Vice-Chancellor however, and get a formal green light for conducting my research at Peradeniya. And I have yet to find permanent accomodation closer to Peradeniya. I have yet to device a research methodology that I can see deliver the kind of data I want. But I'm moving, although slowly, in the direction of something.

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