New house, new acquaintances

A month ago or so John, my house mate, informed me that our landlord was going to up the rent. Would I be prepared to pay more? I suppose I could easily have afforded to pay more than the 8000 rupees I was paying then. Still, I would have a hard time justifying it to myself when I could easily find far cheaper accomodation elsewhere. Maybe it wouldn't have the comfort of our house in Anniewatte but then again, an anthropologist in the field shouldn't be too choosy. I told him I would start looking for another place after New Year.

When I returned from my trip to the upcountry however, John had already done some looking of his own. He told me he had found a nice house, closer to the main road, where there would be plenty of room for the both of us. I could even continue paying the same rent and we could move in right away! I went and had a look for myself, the house only a 15 minute walk away. Sure enough - the house was not only nice, it was posh. The address should give you a clue: "Pichaud Gardens". How could I resist? It's location close to Peradeniya Road would cut down my travel time both to campus and to the city. And although the house is not isolated, like the one in Anniewatte, it is sheltered in a peaceful neighborhood, with a supermarket a 5 minute walk away. I gave John thumbs up.

The shifting was done in two trips. (I guess I still only have two backpacks worth of stuff, although I'm accumulating quickly). Not an insurmountable task in other words. For John, however, a little more is involved. Having lived in Anniewatte for two years, most of the time with his family, you can safely say he has a few more backpacks worth. A few lorryloads would be more like it. This I assume is why he hasn't even begun shifting yet, although he said he would be done with it by the end of April. As it is I have the house to myself and can chose between 4 toilets every time nature calls. Having grown up in a two-toilet house you can only imagine my elation.

Let me add that had I not been averse to believing in ghosts and the like, I might not have believed I was alone. There have been a number of "mysterious" incidences these first weeks. Why were for example the downstairs lights turned on in the morning, when I had turned them off before going to bed? And why, when coming home in the evening the same day a repairman had fixed the washing machine, did I find the door to the verandah open, the washing machine open and the floor flooded? Both the washing machine and the verandah door had been closed when we left the house. Sungun, our gardener at the Anniewatte house, who has now started doing some odd jobs at the new house, informed me that a woman had been killed outside this very same house some years ago. She was rammed by a car with brakefailure. I leave it to you to make up your own minds, but like I said: had I believed in ghosts I wouldn't have felt alone at night.

I never feel alone in the daytime, as John constantly sends over plummers, cleaners, electricians, tailors and whatnot to get the house in ship shape to his arrival.

John had a little surprise in store for me. Turns out he is not renting the house himself, but that it is being rented by an elderly British gentleman named Brian, who visited our house in Anniewatte some time ago. Brian complained he could never afford living in Britain. He had spent the last two years in Hawaii, where "all are thieves", but felt certain Sri Lanka would be a different story. That day he was shamelessly praising Srilankans. Further, he some rather eccentric ideas concerning boarding school homosexuality in Britain, but I won't get into those now. Anyway, it turns out Brian was the one who had found the house, and had offered it to John and I, while he went back to Hawaii to prepare for moving. This explains how a such a mansion could be a cheaper option for us. Brian is paying the bulk of the rent. When he will arrive, though, I don't know. One time when he called in to check on us he guessed "some time next month".

So I am spending my days in the house with Sungun and a handful of artisans, passing time studying Tamil with a self-study course I ordered online. Nothing is happening on campus so it's not like I'm missing out on much. Students are busy studying for exams or working on decisive assignments. I figure it is better that I am disturbed by artisans then that my informants/friends are disturbed by me.

But then I went ahead and got me some other friends. I had met some American girls at the ICES book launch a few weeks ago, and since then I had kept on bumping into them in town. Finally we decided to hook up for drinks. That was last Thursday and on that occasion I was introduced to yet another American student, Gavin. The Americans (Jill, Rebecca, Lisa and Gavin) were all introduced to Sri Lanka through the "ISLE program", ISLE being a clever acronym for "Intercollegiate Sri Lanka Education". Gavin was here in '99, Jill in '02 and Rebecca and Lisa in '02 (I think). Now, they are all back for research, some of them recieving Fulbright scholarships. Their in depth knowledge of local life and impressive Sinhala skills make them a good crowd to hang out with. The following days would provide several opportunities for me to get chummy with them.

First, Friday offered a cultural experience far removed from local culture. Rebecca and Lisa are both Jewish and were in the middle of celebrating Passover. One traditional event of Passover (often arranged twice) is the seder - a ritual dinner to commemorate the Jewish exodus from Egypt. Seders today are often reinterpreted with current political issues and struggles in mind, and so may for example focus on the Chinese occupation of Tibet or on the mobilization against exploitive capitalism. I was even told of a seder that had focused on the occupation of Palestinian territories, although this was a rather controversial decission.

Arranging a seder in Sri Lanka is no walk in the park. A lot of the ritual ingredients, like the Matzoh (unleavened bread) had to be imported from America, not without complications. Rebecca has written more about this on her excellent blog.

Seders, from what I understand, come in all colours, shapes and sizes, and this particular seder was coloured by the fact that half of the participants (children aside) were non-Jewish. In addition to Jill, Gavin and I, they were the Sinalese landlords of our host's house (an elderly couple with high standing in local academia) and Herath, a Sinhala teacher with the Iowa program. Our two hosts, Judy and Yvonne, I am afraid I don't know much about, but Judy and Rebecca took turns leading the ceremony while explaining to us rookies, refusing to be sidetracked by screaming/crying/running/crawling kids. As many other religious events, this one also involved a fair amount of alcolhol. In fact, you are obliged to drink a minimum of four cups of wine in appreciation of... OK, I admit, I can no longer remember. But the wine, some of it also imported from America, was good.

The following day it was all back to local customs as Herath had invited us all over to his house for a party. And what a party! A liberal amount of alcohol, including two kinds of arrack, Johnny Walker, beer and even grappa (!) was produced. And the meal... I don't think its an exageration to say it is the best I have ever had on Sri Lankan soil. It was a rice and curry feast, with no less than 15 excellent curries (though possibly more) to chose from! We chatted and drank away on Herath's balcony until the small hours of the night when he offered to give us rides home. It was a luxurius evening, a far cry from the more moderately beliqoured, though no less enthusiastic, Estate Tamils' parties that I have grown accustomed to now.

/haakon/