Return to Serendib

The Norwegian embassy said I probably wouldn't be able to. They were wrong.
Lonely Planet said it would take about an hour. It took two.

Used as I've become to the slow and often mysterious workings of south-Asian bureacracy, I entered the Department of Immigration, next to Majestic City shopping complex, with a loaded wallet and low expectations. I was there to get a visa extension, but I knew a number of reasons Sri Lankan authorities could use to deny me one, the most probable being the fact that I don't possess a return ticket. "Never mind that" their eyes seemed to whisper, "just give us your money". And then they picked me clean. 160 or so USD changed hands - visas must be big business - but I got my stamp and signature and re-entered daylight feeling like a true winner. I am now an eligable resident of Sri Lanka until July 11 (at which time I will have to do some more extending), and this was immediately celebrated with an iced coffe at Barista, a Starbuck-like affair, and the trendiest of coffee shops in Colombo.

So why this Sri Lanka business?
I suspect most of you have heard this at one time or another, but some might not and others might be confused. I am here because it is time for my academical rite of passage. It is time for me to leave the ranks of mere students of anthropology and to become an Anthropologist. What signifies an anthropologist more than anything else? The fieldwork of course! The going off to distant lands with a naive ambition of getting a grasp on the native way of life, while keeping it on an arm's length in order to scrutinize it with the scholar's analytical gaze. Easy enough. 4 years at the university has led to this moment, the climax, after which all that is left is to write up a thesis by the summer of 2006. I should be well prepared. No problem! Piece of cake! But where the hell do I begin?

Sri Lanka was of course my own choice. The two weeks I had here in June 2004 (only briefly attempted relayed to the readers of this blog) left me with a burning desire to return. Sri Lanka seemed to me nothing like the ravaged hell-hole I had read about. Two years of lasting peace between the government army and the Tamil Tiger's guerilla (LTTE) seemed to have given many people some sense of hope and belief in the future again. Everywhere I went I was met with smiles - big smiles - that grew even bigger whenever I revealed my nationality. Especially in the Tamil areas, where the war has taken the most lives and left the deepest scars, Norwegians were considered apostles of peace, one and all, no matter their business on Sri Lanka. OK, I enjoyed that feeling, but that is not why I returned. This island intrigued me. Everything about it did. From it's shape as a teardrop falling from the face of the Indian sub-continent, to the complexity of the conflict the country has struggled with for more than half a century. Calling it a conflict however gives a false impression of the situation. Sri Lanka has been ravaged by many conflicts. And to call this an ethnic struggle is only a partial truth. Ethnicity, race (the social conception of it of course, race as a biological category is non-sense), language, religion, caste and class all play their part in fragmenting this people of nearly 20 million. Let's leave it at that for now. There is no short version of Sri Lankas problems, and the attrocities committed, particularily since 1983, are too horrible for words. How could the smiles I saw last summer cover up such pain? On a personal level this mystery is why I decided to return. On a professional level however, I cannot hope to answer such a profound question. But I can perhaps solve one piece of the puzzle and make a contribution, however small, towards peace.

I have in part spent the previous academic semester composing a project description for the fieldwork at hand. After pondering upon many alternative topics for a thesis, mainly within south-Asian countries, I decided on this: "Taking into account that the university students of today will be well represented among the leaders of tomorrow's Sri Lanka, what ideological baggage do these students take along as they leave campus for life in the 'real world'? What social categories and groups are of biggest importance in the everyday life at the university? How do nationalist ideologies structure interethnic interaction and what arenas exist for non-politicized interaction across social boundaries? How are nationalist ideologies perpetuated on campus?" I could go on, but this questioning is based on the assumption that widespread non-politicized interaction between social categories is necessary to take the edge off stereotypes and to fight xenophobia.

Alright, but then what? This is pretty much where I am today, after five days in the mayhem that is Colombo - the bustling capital of 600 000 to 2 million residents, depending on where you draw it's borders. I have been trying to get in touch with local scholars and organizations while looking for a suitable university to adopt as field site. The scholars are now beginning to respond (I have arranged meetings with local anthropologists on Wednesday and Friday), and I have chosen my university to scrutinize. Noone there knows yet, though. My choice fell on the University of Peradeniya, which is inland, near Kandy, and a predominantly Sinhalese university with a Tamil minority. It is a modern university, while being Sri Lankas oldest, and it is set in fertile, green surroundings (or so it seems from their web site). Challenges ahead of me involve obtaining a permit to be on campus, arranging accomodation on or close to campus (preferably in student quarters), and recruiting a descent sized group of informants with tolerable English skills (my proficiency with the Sinhalese and Tamil languages leaves quite a lot to be desired). Once there, and "fåglarna vet når" as they say in Sweden, the fieldwork proper can begin. There is a good way to go, but fortunately I still have 7 months at my disposal, granting the immigration authorities don't lose their thirst for money.

I'll finish off for now with a few words on the tsunami, the reason I haven't mentioned it earlier being that there is so little to remind me of it here. I keep forgetting it is an issue at all. Colombo was virtually untouched, the exeption being where the wave was channeled into river estuaries. Of course, the city itself being untouched does not mean it's population is. Many houses hoist a white flag, in Buddhism signifying the loss of a loved one. Late one evening, on passing a hindu temple, I talked to an old homeless Tamil man. With teary eyes and a breath that smelled of alcohol, he told me he had lost many of his relatives but that his family was safe. He then thanked me for everything Norway has done in and for Sri Lanka and bowed deep as we said good bye. I left feeling rather small.

Many universities, including the University of Peradeniya, are involved in relief efforts and it is probably in this respect the tsunami may become relevant for my work. I am told there is no imminent risk of epidemics and there is plenty of bottled water available. The Norwegian embassy informed me that all over the country people's immediate needs are met. The tsunami did shake this nation badly, but it is unfortunately a nation that has been shook many a time before. A death toll exceeding 30 000 is still only half of the lives the civil war has claimed over the last 20 years. In the streets of Colombo life goes on more or less as before. Out of necessity. The media are talking about rebuilding and eyes are again set on the future

BTW1: I overheard on the radio today that all coastal towns are to be moved at least 1 km inland - a decission that in itself is worthy of an anthropological study.

BTW2: 'Serendib' was the name given to Sri Lanka by Arab traders at around the 7th century, meaning 'Island of jewels'. This name is the root of the English 'serendipity' - to stumble upon a fortunate discovery. It was later twisted to Ceilao by the Portuguese and Ceylon by the Dutch. Ceylon of course was the official name up until 1972 when it was replaced by 'Sri Lanka'.

/haakon/in/colombo/