Bugs, etc.

I don't have any specific new favorite things because I just have so many. Every day I seem to find a new reason to love it here, to love my life here, or just to love life in general. I find things I miss too, but not with nearly so much frequency or earnestness. Well, I will admit that I am *desperately* craving a cheeseburger, and every couple days someone inevitably mentions a food from home and we all--torturing ourselves--join in, listing the first things we are going to eat upon returning. Amber, who leaves today, will get to realize this dream very soon, but I know she's rather stay here with the elephants than eat a chocolate chip cookie.

I think the most surprising thing about my life here is how well I am acclimating to it. I knew that things would be different here, but I wasn't sure how well I would deal with the changes (ch-ch-ch-changes). Everyone back home will be shocked to find out some of the things I see and experience and which I have started to accept, even take for granted. I haven't had a hot shower in 9 weeks, and the past 8 weeks have actually all been cold. In Galle I had lukewarm water, but the days of such high luxury are gone. It's not the temperature I expect to shock anyone, but the fact that I'm never more than a meter away from at least 8 spiders while I'm showering. Today it was 9.

Living in harmony with nature is a big difference between Sri Lanka and what I am used to. Not only is it a very different environment, which will disorient anyone, but this is an aspect of life that I struggle with even in America. "I can't get into my apartment, there's a wasp on the stairs" is a phrase I have uttered more than once. Being here, however, I am forced to come to terms with all manner of bugs, animals, and general nature. Of all these changes the bugs are definitely the aspect I was most worried about and the coming to terms with them is probably more surprising than the plants or animals. I don't think anyone would be shocked to hear that I'm totally fine with the pair of parrots that next outside my bungalow, so I'll focus on the bugs.

The initial change came about more quickly than I anticipated, and I have continued to improve with each passing mosquito filled day. I attribute the speed to my complete transplantation; I knew I was going into a different way of life, so without knowing what to expect, I tried to open my mind and accept however it ended up. At home I feel a distinct line between "my space" and "their space," and get very territorial over my space. When I go hiking or spend time outdoors I'm usually ok. The problem mainly exists when bugs get into my house because that's my area. In Sri Lanka, there is not space that's mine except for the area under my mosquito net at night. (And I actually stopped using one about 2 weeks ago.) The windows here don't have screens and doors remain open all day. The thing is, if a bug finds its way in, it's likely to find its way out again. At home if a bug finds its way in, it's sort of stuck inside until I kill or remove it (or have someone else kill or remove it).

In Sri Lanka everywhere is everyone's territory. The cockroaches chill in the dark corners of my room, the spiders make their homes on the shower head and the supports of my bunk bead, something mysterious has been crawling on me and biting me at night, and the fruit in the fruit shop is covered in bees. i have surprised myself with how used to all of this I have become, it all freaked me out so much at first, but now I just go about my day normally. Oh, hello bees, I think I'm going to continue chopping this watermelon if you don't mind. Shower time, hm, wonder how many spiders today, 9? fantastic. Oh, and little Dexter--the closest spider to my head while I'm showering, named thus because he probably has a craving for human blood--has moved even closer to my head? cool. That still gives me a good 5 inches of free space while I'm in my most vulnerable state of the day (I say, pretending that I shower every day) If I can get used to that, I think I can deal with beetles and other bugs flying around me while I'm working in the garden.

Things I'm still not ok with: spiders with a wingspan over 1.5 inches that's actually crawling on me (this theory has been confirmed in the garden a couple weeks ago) and leeches. No leeches. Please. Ever.

I even had an encounter with a snake a few weeks ago. I only screamed a tiny bit, it was really more of a squeak for lack of any words being able to come out of my mouth. I was sitting on the ground writing in my journal when I looked to my left and saw him. About 4 feet long and a non-alarming light green color, he was making his way steadily toward me, flicking his tongue and staring. As I turned to look, we made brief eye contact and he froze. I was momentarily stunned, this is the first snake I'd seen (and the only one I ever saw there). I uttered a small squeak, but I wasn't exactly afraid, just very startled. The squeak broke our eye contact and he slithered away. I followed him a bit, taking some pictures.

I wonder what I would have done if I thought that it was a venomous snake. Possibly a legit scream, probably not pictures. In the garden a few weeks ago I actually screamed upon seeing a spider about 2 inches across crawling up my arm. The watering can was dropped forgotten on the path and I couldn't brush myself off fast enough. For the next few minutes I couldn't shake the feeling that it was still on me, it's extremely hairy legs inching along over the skin of my arms, my legs, the back of my neck. I calmed myself down, stepped out of the mud puddle my upended watering can had created, and continued gardening. Maybe next time I won't be such a baby about it, but my hopes aren't high. (Foreshadowing)


I am pretty proud of my ability to know they're around and function anyway. I even had one crawling up my leg after breakfast one day that was so cute I had to show people before I flicked him off. He was bright yellow and orange, almost translucent, and probably only a quarter of an inch. No real feat. I do know that there are spiders here with at least a 6 inch wingspan, and I will still go use the bathrooms in the restaurant where I know they live. At first we always went in pairs for fear of seeing one, but I've either gotten past needing that or I realize now that having someone else there doesn't actually make me safer.

The much more common thing to see crawling on the walls everywhere are geckos. They are cute, though, so they don't really bother anyone. There is some superstition in Sri Lanka about what happens if a gecko falls on you. The day of the week and the part of your body they fall on goes into determining the meaning. For instance, a gecko falling anywhere on your body on a Sunday is very fortuitous, bringing good luck to those serendipitous enough to be "dropped in" on. If a gecko falls on your head on a Friday, however, it is fatal. Seems harsh.

So here I am, one Friday, minding my own business getting ready to leave for the beach. We are getting picked up at 3:30 AM so that we can miss traffic and have a bit of the day at the beach. I wake up at 3 to get ready, and I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I am leaning over the sink brushing when I feel something fall onto my head. It feels heavy, and I make surprised noise as I reflexively bring my hand up to brush him off. I'm running through the superstitions in my head, trying to remember what day of the week it is, when I glance at the wall I've knocked him onto. It's not a gecko. It's not a gecko at all. It's one of the mammoth spiders. A spider with a 6 inch wingspan sits chilling on the wall next to the sink, taunting me, "yeah, I was just on top of your head, what'cha gunna do about it? You can't scream, it's 3 AM and everyone's asleep." I stare at him, wide eyed and open mouthed, not screaming, but breathing out in a silent stream of air.

Well, he's not on my head anymore, and I need to finish brushing my teeth. I tap the wall next to him so that he runs away fro the sink and I can finish my morning routine in peace. He runs into the door frame, cutting off my exit. Ok, I'll deal with that in a moment. After completing my teeth, I plot my escape. Maybe if I start to open the door, he'll freak and bolt. It worked! I run through the open doorway and--quietly--slam the door behind me. I'm safe! I make it out to the group waiting for the van.
"So, who heard me scream this morning?"
"What, nobody heard you scream."
"Yeah, because I'm a champion!"

Adam's Peak

My Pilgrimage

The scene opens: it is 1 AM at the base of Adam's peak. 10 tired volunteers are dragging themselves out of their all too briefly occupied hotel rooms. We drove to Adam's Peak last night, arriving at about 9 PM, knowing that we need to wake up at 1 for our sunrise climb. It is the off season right now, and the lights guiding us up will not be lit, nor will the tea houses be serving on our way up. Even the temple at the top will probably not be displaying the sacred footprint. But we are going to complete this journey anyway.

For the Elephants!


1 AM rolls around and the shrill tones echoing from our hotel rooms drive us out of bed for our dispatching cup of tea. On our walk to the base, our guide stops us at a temple where he recites a prayer and we are all given incense to light and add our own petitions to the guardian of Sri Pada (the Sri Lankan name for Adam's Peak). I don't know about everyone else's silent prayers, but I whispered "safe journey, good weather" as I lit my incense--it is off season for a reason, and there is a definite need for this particular request. I also add a personal plea to my own God, a half-prayer to be completed when I reach the top and ring the famed bell, the reverberating exaltation of summiting Sri Pada.

The Pilgrimage has begun.

I am exhausted from lack of sleep, but my blood is pumping energy through me at the prospect of completing this journey I have just begun. Nothing save an absolute monsoon will keep me off these 4,800 steps to watch the miracle of God's sun rising over the peaks of the surrounding mountains. Unfortunately, a monsoon is exactly what begins to descend upon us not 10 minutes into the climb.

We rush into a vacant temple, and I belatedly realize that I did not even stop to respect the temple by removing my boots. We wait for at least 20 minutes for the rain to clear, but the storm does not show signs of slowing, let alone stopping. With much difficulty, we rule that turning back is our only safe option. Toward the summit we are told the steps rise steeply and rain + dark do not bode well for the climb.

Back at the hotel, I fall into a dejected (and slightly damp) sleep. The mosquitos try to help, but surprisingly 15 bites inside my shirt, spreading over my stomach and side, don't seem to make me feel any better.

Driving home in the morning has the redeeming quality of being incredibly beautiful (although what in Sri Lanka is not?), but it is still shrouded in disappointment.

The next 2 weeks I keep thinking about getting back to the mountain. I have been sponsored for this, I can't let all of your generosity down. Even more so (forgive me if this taking higher priority seems selfish), I really want to complete my pilgrimage. I want to feel the thrill of planting my feet on the top-most stair, I want to let the ringing of the bell toll through me as I release the finale of my prayer. *And yes, I did try to find a less cheesy sounding way to descrive this, but that's legitimately what I was feeling*

When I got the chance to try again, the plans were slightly altered. The climb and descent would not both happen in daylight, with less danger and less chance of rain. Giving up the summit sunrise is slightly disappointing, but a small price to pay for actually making it to the top. 5 others agree to attempt it, and the 6 of us prepare in our own ways to leave at 2 AM. My method involves and early bedtime, I have no false hopes of sleeping at any point during the 4 hour drive in the van on the bumpy Sri Lankan roads. When the van picks us up in the night, only 4 of us pile in. Ilse, I am told, discovered that the wound on her foot was infected and Sian has gone with her to the hospital. The price for renting the van is now split only 4 ways instead of 6, but my brief moment of frustration over this is dissipated when I realize that the extra 500 rupees per person is approximately $4. And I get a whole row to lay down. "Sleep" isn't necessarily a word I would use, but I was certainly not entirely conscious the whole time and 6 AM came sooner than expected.

The day has begun and although a few clouds threaten on the horizon, we don't forsee rain. Amber, Rachel, Ceri, and I begin the climb in good spirits. The base is quiet and void of another person except for one little boy who knows at least two words of English: "Hello...money?" We do, however, see a good number of dogs. One in particular, a puppy by his nibbling and playfulness, decides to follow us. His biting at my ankles is not to my liking (or to any of our party's for that matter), and I try to shoo him away, but to no avail. He follows us with exuberance. Ignoring him, yelling at him to go away, shoving him as he tries to gnaw on us, nothing has an effect. After about 20 minutes of this we christen him "Nigel." Of course, it's not until after this that Amber points out that Nigel is, in fact, a girl. The name sticks anyway and, as is wont to happen with animals after you have given them a name, we start to love our little guide dog. When, about halfway up, we run into two other very rowdy dogs, she engages them in a fight, running all around on and off the path. We have no choice but to go on without her, and are very distraught. Oh, Nigel, you're the cutest thing ever named Nigel. And the most feminine...and possibly the most rabies infested. But you were our Nigel, the female, rabies infested guide dog of Sri Pada. We didn't see her again.

The views on the way up are quite nice. It's certainly not the tallest mountain I've ever climbed, but Sri Lanka is so breathtaking, and seeing it from any unique viewpoint is a new thrill. We gradually ascent into a cloud, and the views come and go as the wind wills the clouds across the sky. Eventually it doesn't matter anymore, the steps are getting steeper and steeper (surely this is the absurdly steep section  the guide books told us about...oh, it gets steeper still? Lovely.) and we are beyond caring about anything except the peak, which is not seeming to grow any closer. We've been climbing for 2 hours...3 hours...3.5 hours...

Oh, and did I mention that we were practically fasting through this? I brought a large bottle of water, but no food. When we were here before, starting at 1:30 AM, there were shops open where we could buy sustenance. It seemed obvious to me that a shop open at 1:30 would be open at 6, and I planned to buy peanuts and crackers there before starting up. Not a single open shop. Amber brought some sugary treats and Rachel and Ceri have some crackers on them, but that's our entire larder for the climb.

By the time we hit 4 hours my legs are crying out and I am forcing my legs up every step with all my will. I see what looks like a temple (the cloud is not very thick and foggy) and Rachel and I agree that we will stop there a while. It isn't until we are practically at the gate that we realize it's the temple. We are a mere 20 steps from the top and we didn't even know it!

The top: here's a picture of the amazing view.

Yup. In a cloud. The whole time. Surprisingly, I actually kinda like it. We are here at this temple without anyone around, made even lonelier by the lack of view. There is a section below the temple that is closed for the off season, but is clearly usually bustling with tourists. Looking down on it is like looking at a ghost town. The whole effect just goes toward making me feel like this is all just here for me at this moment. I ring the bell and (finally!) complete my pilgrimage, we with cloud mist, wind blown, and feeling like the 4 of us are the only people in the world.

Home

I am home safely, for all those who aren't already aware.

I have a few backlogged posts that I'd like to make, including my very...eventful...journey home.

I will type these up and release them over the next couple weeks.

Shock and awe

Today I swam with sharks. That is all.

4th of July

Today was the 4th of July. Emily (a fellow American) and I planned a party to celebrate. We bought fizzy drinks, ice cream, and cookies for all the volunteers--even the non Americans-- and lit candles. We made homemade flameless fireworks. I had an idea to stuff confetti (also homemade) into balloons and pop them mid air. She and I spent yesterday and this morning tearing up colored paper, stuffing balloons, and preparing everything.

The party was fun, only 5 Americans in a group of about 30, but people indulged us and enjoyed the ice cream and snacks we bought. The "fireworks" went just about as well as could be expected. We affixed needles to the end of sticks to pop them, and the confetti and flour poofing out of them was fun. Our coordinator here, in all her awesomeness, arranged a special lunch of french fries and hot dogs. Overall a nice, if slightly low key, celebration. I miss DC today, though, the 4th of July is always such a big deal there.

Last night we had a very exuberant party with some members of Sri Lankan Parliament. One of them, an older (40?) Sri Lankan man who I had actually met before, heard about our party planning and told me that he would send me some firecrackers. Emily and I had a nice laugh about that this morning, given that we're not sure he was in a state to remember any bold promises he made. She and I set off our much lamer confetti fireworks contentedly.

You can imagne our surprise when a tuk-tuk pulled up after dinner and the men inside said "where is Elizabeth? We are looking for Elizabeth. We have something for her from Chula."

The next thing I know, I'm holding a bag of 2 long strings of firecrackers and about 20...something. Rockets? We all gathered at about 9:30 and I lit one of the lines. The was loud popping and bright flashes. For a brief moment I was thrilled and a feeling of being home with real fireworks and celebrations filled me. Then it was just horror. They were so loud and they just kept going. There are elephants trying to sleep a quarter mile away, and the woman who runs the foundation is up at the house probably panicking, wondering what these noises are...remarkably like gunshots. I (and everyone else with me) was completely unprepared for the volume and duration. But I did have that brief moment of pure bliss.
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY!

*update as of the next morning: I apologized to the woman at the house and was told it was not a big deal at all. A huge weight off.

Finally

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted. If any of you were worried that I was dead or in some seedy Sri Lankan Prison, you can take that breath now. And stop thinking about divvying up all my things.

I would like to give a list of excuses as to why I haven't posted-- #3 would be that the power goes out almost daily for at least an hour, taking the internet with it-- but there is only 1, very simple, reason: I have not been journaling. There have been other things filling my time, like finishing the first book of Game of Thrones. Very good series so far, and spoilers (much like narcotics in Sri Lanka) will be punishable by death, so don't even think about it.

The truth is, if I wanted to journal, I could make time. Everything is so laid back in Sri Lanka that not a day goes by where I can't journal. Sure, some nights I go to bed with lofty intentions to write at least 1 page and wake up with my pen still uncapped in my hand and my journal splayed open faced on the floor next to my bed. But more than business or exhaustion, what's been stopping me has been motivation. I will go through a day and realize that everything that happened is either repetitive or not something I want to blog about, or even put into words for my own eyes only. I'm a little worried that "today I washed Rani and then worked in the garden" will get slightly monotonous. I want to focus on things that are more out of the ordinary (although who would have thought that scrubbing down a 4 ton animal in a Sri Lankan river would ever be described as "ordinary"). But some of the out of the ordinary things have been downright aggravating. I don't even want to think about them at the end of the day, let along bring them to life for all of you at home. But to not mention any of the bad gives this blog an incomplete picture, so here goes.

Please keep in mind throughout reading the following that I am extremely happy here and wouldn't trade the last 2 months of my life for anything. I am not describing things that fill my days, only things that make me hesitant to pick up a pen in the evening, even if the rest of the day has been amazing.

First of all, the honeymoon is over. I'm still happy here, but not everything (and certainly not everyone) is beautiful to me every day. When a group this large are all put in close living quarters for an extended period of time it can be very straining. About 30 of us are here now from all across the globe, a melting pot of ages, cultures, personalities, and ideals. The best thing about a group this large is that yuu're virtually guaranteed to find a couple people you really connect with (miss you, Amber!) and can talk to easily. There are, however, some drawbacks. On the flip side of the kindred spirits you're bound to find, there are going to be people whose personality just does not mesh with your own. This isn't necessarily even the hardest part for me, though. I find myself stretching a bit thin, trying to be there for anyone and everyone. I don't want anyone to feed ignored or left out, and I want to get to know everyone. With people coming, going, staying, and leaving, this is a bit harder than it sounds.

Trying to connect with everyone also leaves me vulnerable to being dissapointed if they turn out to have very different ideals than I do. If I feel like I've gotten along really well with someone it pains me a little bit to see them completely disinterested in Sri Lankan culture and ways. I don't really understand why someone would want to come to such an amazing country and make no effor to understand the culture of the people. I'm not even saying that everyone has to try to speak the language or anything extreme, but to try to abide by rules of modesty when outside Millennium seems like a no-brainer to me, and to not make fun of the locals to their faces. I don't care that they can't understand you, that's uncalled for.

There's also, as I suppose comes with the territory of 30 volunteers mostly around age 20, been a bit of drama. I feel like I'm in high school again some days. I don't think overmuch of it actually involves me (although rumors don't always reach back to their subject), but I get exhausted by them and the drama anyway. It's gotten a little better in the past couple weeks, but for a while I was having a very hard time with some of the socal aspects here. It's been a good test of my personal strength which I've been trying to work on since I've been here. I want to learn to let things go, something I've sturggled with my entire life. I'm definitely not there yet, and may never be, but I'm working on it and will continue trying to improve.

I have made many new friends since I've been here and would book this trip again in a heartbeat if given the opportunity, so I don't want any of you to think that any of this is to say that I'm not happy. In fact, I think I'm handling social interactions better than I do at home. I'm trying to keep an open heart even with people who don't think or act as I do.

The local people provide an interesting challenge too. Most of them seem so sweet and so genuinely excited to interact with a white person. The children are my favorite (who's surprised?) They get so animated when they see white people. I love walking through town smiling at everyone I pass, sometimes waving. The reaction is well worth the negligible effort it takes to make eye contact and smile. I do, however, occasionally come across someone I get a bad vibe from. I am challenged because I do not want to misjudge someone or be overly harsh, but I also don't want to get myself into any (more) sticky situations. I feel like the fact that I do make eye contact - a very important sign of respect in this culture - and smile at locals, making conversation if they engage me, gives me power when someone creepy comes along. To ignore the creepy man is treating him differently than I treat everyone else. He may not even notice, and may just think that I'm rude, but I know, and I feel empowered. Sometimes I know immediately that ignoring was the correct course: "Hey baby, what's your number?" or "Hello, madam, I need money because I am in a bad time..." I will ignore and if followed, turn around and sternly tell them to stop in their own language.

But then there are men that ask me "where are you from?" and "how do you like Sri Lanka?" or "how long are you here? First time?" When I get the creepy vibe from one of them, I do not have immediate confirmation of my gut reaction. Sometimes I will feel guilty for passing such quick judgement against them. One day this happened to me while I was on the but. They do say not to travel alone. A man sat down next to me and immediately my spidey sense was tingling. I wanted nothing more than to get up and change seats, but the bus was so crowded and I couldn't get out of my seat because he was in the isle seat blocking me in. I could have gotten out anyway, but I would have had to ask him to let me out and then end up standing for 3 hours instead of sitting. (In hindsight a highly preferable alternative) It would have been so obvious that I was just trying to get away from him, and I hadn't (yet) had proof that he was creepy, just a gut feeling. He began talking to me, but after exhausting his very minimal English and my even more minimal Sinhala, did not stop. I have no idea what he was saying for about a half hour where he was speaking to me, so I turned away from him, beginning to get very uncomfortable. All I got was that he was trying to get my phone number, that he was asking me once we reached our destination if I would get lunch with him, and where I was staying. (no, no, and boldface lie). The rest of the bus ride confirmed my gut feeling about this man.

You have 2 perfectly good knees of your own, there is no reason your hand needs to be on mine. And no, that's not an invitation to move your hand higher up my leg. I understand that the bus is crowded, but it's not so crowded that you need to lean your body against mine and press your arm against my chest. In hindsight I am so angry at myself for not being vocal or slapping him in the face, but in the moment it was so scary that I didn't know what to do. I contented myself with picking his hand off mine gingerly by a finger and putting it back in his own lap. A process I needed to repeat a couple more times. I see now that had I reacted strongly I'm sure that he would have had to stop and others on the bus would have been behind me, but at the time I wasn't sure what the fallout would have been, and I still had a long bus ride to go. When we got to our destination I jumped in the first tuk-tuk I saw, the only time I've ever gotten into a tuk-tuk without first negotiating a price.

It could have been so much worse, and I am very thankful that it wasn't. The experience also helped me realize that waiting longer for the next bus, or moving away and standing, as awkward as it may feel, is the correct course of action. The next time I was on a bus alone--I don't feel unsafe at all if I have someone with me, even just another young white girl--I was much more wary and assertive. I was able to effectively stave off any creepy men. I sat down next to one man who completely ignored me, a pleasant change. And who, when he saw a pregnant woman board the bus, immediately stood up and guided her on the lurching bus into his seat. There may be creeps in every culture, but there are also gentlemen.

Millennium

I will be doing a sponsored climb of Adam's Peak, a holy mountain here in Sri Lanka, to raise money for Millennium Elephant Foundation. If anyone feels as much of a connection to this cause as I do, please sponsor my climb for the enclosure here. Or, you know, anyone who didn't get me a birthday present ;)
I have made a donation page connected to my charity's page for easy donations. Even $1 is appreciated, and will pay for a bolt to hold the fence together!
http://www.justgiving.com/eblakeramsey

Being here at Millennium is much different than I expected. I was not prepared for how connected I would feel to our cause here. Frankly, I was not prepared for what the cause was going to be. First of all, I thought that I was going to be at Pinnawala Elephant Orphanage. I expected to be moved by the idea of helping injured and orphaned Elephants, but for the main attraction to be bottle feeding and playing with elephants. As important as it is to help them, all of this would probably be more for myself. The trip was booked selfishly, with my own personal desire to interact with elephants higher on the priority list than any benefit they would receive from me. Not to say I wasn't interested in doing good or helping elephants, the entire purpose of quitting my job and coming here was to make a positive impact in some way, I just didn't realize how important I would find the work I am doing.

So I am not at the Elephant Orphanage, Millennium is a separate elephant habitat from the orphanage, even though they are both in Pinnawala, and Millennium is actually a charity. I do get to wash an elephant in the morning, and the most intimate interaction I've felt since I've been here has been feeding her fruit and stroking her trunk while her large eyes thank me. My Rani is beautiful, and washing, touching, or feeding her is everything I ever imagined; but the rest is so much more. Here at Millennium Elephant Foundation we "rent" elephants who are captive across Sri Lanka and concentrate on giving them a better life. Captive elephants have a hard life, and aw are working toward making it better. We feed them amply, a simple enough idea, but one which is not adhered to with elephants I've seen here outside of Millennium; I should not be able to see an elephant's ribs. We are campaigning to spread knowledge about simple changes that can be made to make captive elephants' lives better, the houda (the chair on top of an elephant's back for giving elephant rides), for instance, is very cruel. The straps holding it on are like a corset, creating internal injuries and external sores. All elephant rides at Millennium use only a padded blanket.

The human/elephant conflict is also a big issue that Millennium has started shifting resources to mitigate. Wild elephants here are destroying farmland in quests for food, which is harmful to both the farmers and the elephants, who are getting killed in retaliation. Farmers' livelihoods are being destroyed by the elephants, and the farmers are killing the elephants responsible. Nobody benefits. The farmers, in a desperate attempt to protect their crops, have built tree houses along the edges of their land, which they use to watch for elephants. They try to merely scare them off, but will kill to preserve their land.

Millennium is kicking off a new project to observe the elephants with the farmers to determine where they mostly emerge, saving the farmland, and creating a tourist attraction out of the tree houses. Outside the farms we will plant a row of crops that attract elephants, bananas, papaya, etc. Between these crops and the farm we will plant things that elephants don't like, chilis, oranges, etc. Tourists will be able to pay farmers to stay in their tree houses and hopefully see wild elephants drawn out by the crops, but the elephants will not enter the actual farm because of the repellant crops. The farmers, not only saving their crops, but making extra income from the tourists, will stop seeing the wild elephants as enemy. Everybody is happy. I think that I will spend 1 or 2 weeks at the conflict boarder while I am here to help with this.

In addition to trying to improve the lives of elephants across Sri Lanka, we are also trying to improve Millennium itself. Our elephants live tied down because we do not have an enclosed area in which they can roam. They can walk around only when their Mahout (elephant handler) is beside them. Although they do get walked around and taken to the river to bathe multiple times a day, it is our dream to build them a fence where they can wander freely. I am doing a challenge, and asking for sponsorship to try to raise money for the enclosure.
http://www.justgiving.com/eblakeramsey

Any help is appreciated, I hope that you all feel this cause is as worthy as I do.

Miss you all!

Week 2

**My new favorite thing: myself.
This may sound vain (probably because it totally is) but I'm just feeling so great. I think that it's a very important part of life, knowing how to truly love yourself. At home it's not like I particularly dislike myself, generally I feel pretty ok with who I am, how I act, what I do, etc. Sometimes I would find myself acting in a ways that would make me dislike certain parts of myself, and obviously there's always propaganda saying that I'm not beautiful enough, but generally I like myself at home. But I think that I've been falling short of real love. I'm done with telling myself that I'll love myself when. When I lose 10 lbs, when I can run as far as I'd like, when I act in a certain way, when I can hold down a relationship...I love myself now. Loving myself doesn't mean that I can't still have goals, I can still try to be a better person without withholding love and awaiting perfection. The funny thing is that the more I love myself the easier it is to be a better person, which makes it easier to love. It's a cycle, but it's the opposite of vicious. Not to say there haven't been and won't be rough days, but I have been so happy this week. I am doing something that I can put my heart into, and I have a positive outlook, which I think even the others here can see. This week I was one of 4 nominees for a newly implemented "volunteer of the week" program. An anonymous volunteer wrote "I would like to nominate Elizabeth for her friendliness, generosity, hard work in the garden, and her phenomenal effort in the fruit shop on Friday." I am so touched by this, it makes me feel so appreciated and like my inner joy might just be manifesting to the people around me.**

I'm behind on my journaling and even more on typing it up for the blog, so this week's entry will be short. Really, the biggest thing has just been how amazing I feel.

8 new volunteers arrive on Monday: Jemma, Liz, Lea, Mardi, and Vicky are Austalian nurses here together for 2 weeks. Marion (unfortunately not a librarian) is from New Zealand here for 2 weeks. Jesper and Karina are a brother sister pair from Denmark here for 8 weeks. On Tuesday Sian and Hayden, 2 friens from England, arrive for 7 weeks, and on Thursday Mary and James, a couple from Ireland come for...I want to say 6 weeks. The volunteer houseing is getting quite full, and everyone coming seems very nice. I try to make sure that everyone feels welcome and invited to mingle with the established group. The Australian women are older and keep mostly to themselves, but I really enjoy their company when I do chat with them.

My birthday is wednesday and I have the most amazing birthday that --like an elephant-- I will never forget. I get up, wash Rani, have a wonderful day working in the garden, fruit shop, and mingling with everyone. It's been a while since Rani has done a painting, so for my birthday I request that she make one for me. I have pictures of her making my painting, which I then buy. And now I have a very special birthday present from my beautiful Rani. After work a group of us go out to a movie in the small city 10 km away. I think my ticket was 250 rupees or something absurdly low (although I'm not sure because someone splurged and payed my ticket for me). I was hoping The Avengers would be playing, but it was Battleship instead. The screen wasn't the best quality, the seats were uncomfortable, the movie was horribly cheesy, and it was wonderful. I had such a blast. Oh, and the power went out halfway through the movie and we were sitting in darkness for about 5 minutes wondering what to do. It was such a good time, we'll go back in a couple weeks, I'm sure.

On Friday I am on the fruit shop for an hour and, due to a scheduling conflict, end up staying on for another hour. I had both my notebooks with me so that I could either journal or write my book (yes, I'm writing a book, more on that in a moment), but don't end up touching either of them because it is so busy at the elephant rides. 2 large groups come through in addition to the normal string of tourists on their own. I have 2 fruit plates made up, 2 elephants come back and I  sell them both, and then I can see another elephant coming and have to rush back to chop more fruit before they return! I am a selling machine, and chopping like a fiend. I don't even have time to be afraid of the bees crawling on the fruit while I'm chopping.

A new fund raising idea for our up and coming gift shop is for volunteers to write books that we will sell here. The coordinators have purchased publishing rights for 6 books up to 32 pages in length and have a friend who is an illustrator. I immediately offer to try my hand at writing a children's book. I used to occasionally make up stories for the boys when I was a nanny, so I think I can do it. And if everyone likes it when I'm done, I might get to be a published author in Sri Lanka! And have a really easy addition to my mom's autographed book collection.

The Weekend (Friday - Sunday)

**My new favorite thing: ice cream.
When we stopped to pick up food near the beach house, I decided to get a 2 liter container of ice cream to share. Of course, I considered just getting a half pint and making everyone watch me jealously as I ate it, but decided to be mine. As it turns out, "freezer" is a very loosely applied term in Sri Lanka, and by the time we opened it the net day it was mostly soup. Delicious, cold soup. For dinner on Saturday we were served crabs, which were amazing and unbelievably spicy. This was the first time I literally could not eat more than 2 bites because I was burning and tearing up too much. Jade mentioned milk, but although they put milk in their tea it's from a powder and nobody drinks it here. That's when I remembered the leftover ice cream soup. We brought out the container and a few others and I would cut the spice with a spoonful, eat crab until we cried, wash, rinse, repeat.**

The weekend begins with a "4 hour" car ride. Our driver tells us, "oh, we'll be there by half past 9." We arrive at half past 11. We didn't hit traffic or anything, this is just the way time is told in Sri Lanka.
Can we have some more tools for the garden, please?
"Sure, I'll pick some up next week."
Nope.
"4 hours."
Nope.
Can I please stop to use the bathroom?
"Sure."
45 minutes later...seriously, I'll accept a small shrub to duck behind at this point.
Nothing is hurried or urgent. It's great, except when the drivers says that the really bad patch of road (worse than the rest of the road...which is saying something) that might make me carsick is 30 minutes long. An hour of actively trying not to be sick in the van and we're still on the road.

Once we get to the beach house and get out of the van, I'm fine, and the weekend is going to be amazing. We're somewhere along the eastern shore at a house walking distance from a beautiful beach. The house is adorable and the architecture so fitting for the climate. The bottom floor has no walls on the outside. Only pillars to hold up the second floor. The heat is able to be tempered by full exposure to the breeze. The second floor has walls with huge windows, but they seal off and have air conditioning if you prefer. We just open the windows. Sara, a higher up at Millennium, shows us around the area eagerly. Our weekend is full of beach trips, temples, sunburns (none for me thanks to my gallon of SPF 50 I brought, but although I shared generously there are still some minor burns for others.)

The weekend is relaxing and wonderful. Sara takes us to "the best spot in Sri Lanka" which is a very specific part of the ocean. It flows through like a wide river and in 1 spot (about 2 meters wide) the current is strong and you can lean into the current and just relax. Sara calls it a natural spa, what he doesn't mention is that about 10 meters away from "the best spot in Sri Lanka" is the area we've dubbed "the worst spot in Sri Lanka." There are a lot of rocks around the area and 3 of us cut our feet on them. Leiah and I not so badly, but Shay's is going to need my first aid kit's gauze...eventually. She stays in the water for another half hour anyway, swimming happily. Eventually she has it doctored by Sandeth, the head of Millennium, who has driven up to join us.

We go to 2 Hindu temples and get blessed. The temples are beautiful, but I find the crowds a bit distracting. I prefer the Buddhist temple I saw in Galle, and found it much more...I can't think of the correct word, not holy, but more like God could be present there, more inclined to worship there. 

Snorkeling is available here too, for a small price. And I really mean small, like 500 rupees or something. Everything here is soo cheap! I can get a mango across the street from Millennium for 10 rupees, a sandwich for 30, or a beer for 200. A rupee, by the way, is less than 1 cent. The snorkeling equipment is pretty bad, but we have fun and stay our for hours.

Sleeping 10 people in a 2 bedroom beach house is interesting, to say the least. There are mattresses (if you can call what we sleep on here "mattresses") on the floors so that we all have one, and 2 people in each bed, but only the beds have mosquito nets. Electing not to take a bed, I get a bit bitten overnight. Not too badly, but I miss my mosquito net. The second night I figure if I don't have a net anyway, I might was well sleep in one of the hammocks outside. 30 minutes in the hammock proves me wrong, and bites drive me back into the house to sleep in the slightly less buggy bedroom.
The area where we are living at Millennium is not a malaria area and when I arrived I found that nobody is taking their malaria pills. I stopped taking mine too a few days in (how often does peer pressure work to convince someone not to take drugs?) Waking up with so many bites I have a small fright that maybe this area is malaria ridden. Naturally I begin writing my will immediately, but then Sara assuages my fears, saying that we haven't been to any malaria areas.

Altogether the weekend is quite fun, but I am in desperate need of some alone time. I love being social with everyone, but too much exhausts me and I need to recharge alone. I feel like I haven't been alone in over 2 weeks, and here it's significantly more pronounced. I take a nap and feel a little better, but I'm looking forward to getting back to Millennium where there's more space to go by myself when I need to. I also start to get a slight bit homesick. Well, not exactly homesick, because I really don't want to go home yet. Mostly I really just want to hear my parent's voices instead of just texting and emailing. I miss my friends too, but talking to my parents on the phone for a few minutes when I get back to Millennium on Sunday makes me feel much better.

Rani trying to find some shade

Birthday!

Today is my birthday!!
What a wonderful place to be for my 24th birthday. A little sad to be away from everyone I love, but I am going to get to spend it with so many people here who I've grown so close to as well.

I think today I will buy some chocolate. And tonight we're all going to see Battleship in the theater nearby. It's going to be so cheesy and amazing, I'm so excited!

Days 2-4 (Tuesday - Thursday)

Day 2 (Tuesday)
**My new favorite thing: Gardening.
Leaving a job where I didn't have to move any muscles except my fingers, I am really enjoying work that engages my whole body. Today I weeded, watered, and helped dig a foundation for a hut. "Dig" may not seem overly tiring, but the ground is so hard we need to break it up with an extremely heavy metal bar before we can shovel it away. I wielded the iron bar, (I think there's a name for the tool, but I don't know it. It's taller than I am and the end is like a flathead screwdriver,) lifting it above my head, bringing it down as hard as I can and then pulling down to lever the dirt apart. It's so exhausting, but so satisfying. I love being outside all day and surrounding myself with nature. I lovingly watered the okra that I planted yesterday and talked to it so that it would feel encouraged to grow. I was disappointed that my time was cut short by being sent to teach English at a nearby school.**

After cleaning Rani and her bed, Annebob and I do the "vet check" which involves brushing off the bottoms of her feet, checking for any abrasions, and feeding her a vitamin ball. Today is my turn. I am a little nervous as I am approaching a raised elephant foot, yup, definitely big enough to squash me like an ant. But I really enjoyed it. I give the vitamin ball and Annebob gives her some reward fruit. She was telling me yesterday about elephant body language. Ears out, cheeks red, and eyes wide is aggression, or as we call it "RUN!" Curling the trunk under and resting it in your hand is trust. As Annebob feeds the fruit she leaves her hand out. Rani reaches back to sniff for more papaya. Not finding any, she begins to pull her trunk back, but first curls it under and rests it in Annebob's hand. Nobody here has had their elephant do that, and this is the first time for Annebob. I am watching--as are about 6 others--as Annebob's face lights up and she is nearly overcome with emotion. As Rani ambles away, Annebob is turning toward us, completely speechless. Everyone here just witnessed such a touching moment, it's very difficult to describe. I can only hope that this will happen for me before I leave.

I do a little gardening today, but my time is cut short because Shala and I are on the schedule to go teach English at a nearby school. It's actually less teaching and more playing with the kids while incorporating English. It is an after school daycare of sorts, with children of all ages from 5-11. There are 8 kids of varying English proficiency. I start out by asking them their names and ages and then having them all tell me what color shirt they are wearing. Then we move on to me saying a color and they have to point to something that color. For an hour Shay and I come up with various activities and have so much fun with the kids. I enjoy playing with them and seeing how each of them start to come out of their shell over time. My favorite game was probably a Simon says-esque game where someone would say a word or command and everyone would act it out. This way they get to associate the words with actions, not letters on a page. We also had fun throwing a ball around a circle, and when you got the ball you said something about yourself.
"My favorite subject is English."
"My name is Deshena."
"I have one sister."
"My favorite color is orange."
The time was quite enjoyable, but an hour of it was mentally and physically wearing. So much running around with them and attempting to entertain/teach them all in a way that incorporated a wide range of ages and English fluency. Shay and I are pleased with the hour and look forward to seeing them again, but happy to get back to the bungalow, which I now call home.

Day 3 (Wednesday)
**My new favorite thing: emotional release.
As I was painting the office today I started to feel very strange, and I didn't know what was wrong with me. I ate a couple of biscuits (yes, I call cookies biscuits now because I'm so surrounded by people from the UK) because I thought maybe I was low on calories in the 7 hour break between lunch and dinner (watch out, soon I'll be saying dinner and supper). I didn't feel any better, and continued to decline. My painting got slower and slower and I started to feel light headed. I tried sitting outside in the fresh air for a bit, but nothing worked and my head started to spin. When I went outside to wash a brush off in the sink, Jade asked me if I was feeling any better and as I started to say "no" I got a lump in my throat. I told her that nothing was making me upset, but that I had just gotten a surge of emotion. Then, for no reason--and taking me completely by surprise--I just leaned down and cried. She spoke soothingly to me as I stood there emptying my emotional stores. After a 3 minute cry, I immediately began to feel better. My head cleared and I was able to work again. As it turns out, this is not an uncommon phenomenon here, and multiple other volunteers have experienced similar unprompted emotions.**

Today is a quiet day because most of the volunteers are in Colombo extending their 30 day visas and buying supplies (supplies!) We decide to power through painting the office while they're gone and surprise them when they come home. I also do a stint in the fruit shop selling fruit to tourists so they can feed the elephant who gave them a ride. As I am watching a guy get splashed by his elephant in the river, making bets with myself if he will buy a plate when he's done, I sketch out an idea for a t-shirt design. We are trying to come up with more fund raising ideas and designing and selling t-shirts is the newest one. I will attempt to upload a sketch of my idea for you all to critique. I showed my rough sketch to the tourist and not only did he like it, but he bought a plate of fruit (totally knew he would.)

At the tail end of dinner all the Colombo volunteers return, exhausted from a long day. (Leaving at 6AM) Ilsa is distressed that the pocket of her new pants has torn, so I offer to sew them for her after dinner. Armed with my sewing kit and a headlamp, I bring her pants back to life. Everyone is joking about how I am so prepared for everything. After the pants are sewed up and I offer to patch up a cut on Bert's leg (open wounds get infected quickly here because the bugs aggravate them) they start calling me Dr. Liz.


Day 4 (Thursday)
**My new favorite thing: pasta.
Today for lunch we were given pasta and it was glorious! There is a restaurant just across the street from Millennium that is associated with us and serves us all our meals. In fact, I think we're the only people they serve. I guess restaurant is a bad name for it then, but it's the best I've got. Meals are served buffet style, lunch and dinner are almost always white rice with 2 types of curry/Dahl on the side. I didn't realize how much rice I was eating until they changed it up. Of course, now this has set off a whole slew of cravings from home (what I wouldn't give for some pancakes with maple syrup), so perhaps I should have stuck with the white rice twice a day for 10 weeks.**

Today our project work continues, and I am able to work a little bit on the garden, which I love so much. I'm going to be an expert gardener when I get home. The yard will be unrecognizable, and I might even learn to love bees and other terrifying pollinating bugs (I'm clearly not there yet). I also work the fruit shop today and decide to make a phrase book to keep there "Would you like to make a donation to the Foundation of 200 rupees and get a plate of fruit to feed the elephant?" in a bunch of languages. I'm already not a salesman--my complete absence of sales skill is actually a running joke with one of my coworkers--so put me in the fruit shop with tourists who don't even speak my language and just see how much fruit I'll sell. I'm actually surprisingly successful when they can understand me, but miming the process of feeding fruit to an elephant, while fun and rather amusing, is not a patented sales technique. Perhaps asking where they're from and butchering their home language is the key.

Today is a very sad day, tonight we say goodbye to Kevin and Judy. All day we are so sad and keep giving them hugs and well wishes. Everyone is sad to see them go, but the day is given a brighter note by the fact that midnight marks Shay's 22nd birthday. (Shay makes everything brighter). After dinner, throughout the partying for Kevin and Judy, the night is punctured by Shay's voice, "guys, guys...2 hours and 15 minutes until my birthday!"
Shay's birthday struck, as expected, at midnight, and although we were all waking up at 5am the next morning, we couldn't let her birthday start in bed, so we stayed up for it to celebrate. Her birthday will continue upon waking--in 4.5 hours--with piling into a van and driving to the beach. The weekend starts early this week.

Day 1 with Rani!!!

The day count is reset now that I'm at MEF and have an Elephant :)

**My new favorite thing: (obviously) Elephants!!
This morning I meet up with the other volunteers at 7:30 and we each go with our elephant handlers known as Mahouts (pronounced mah-HOOT) to our elephants' sleeping areas. We clean them out and do a poop count as the Mahouts lead the elephants down to the river and their day areas. Annabob and I go down to the river after cleaning and help our mahout, Chandana, wash Rani. She really is the most beautiful one here. Also let's take a moment to absorb the fact that I got to WASH an ELEPHANT!
Rani lay down on her side in the river and we scrubbed her with coconut shells. Nope, still need more of a moment to abosrb the fact that I got to WASH an ELEPHANT! Today I just scrubbed her back, but
Annabob tells me that soon Rani will trust me more and I'll be allowed to scrub her head and sides.**

After she is clean, Annabob brushes off the bottoms of her feat and feeds her a dough ball with medicine in in. Just before lunch Annabob tells me that there are only 2 elephants here who paint and Rani is one of them! We get the paints and set up the eaisel. I take pictures as Rani paints and Annabob gives her the paintbrushes. Annabob wants me to chronicle the process because she is planning to buy the painting that Rani makes. I promise to give her the pictures of the creation of her newly acquired art.

At lunch I discover that in taking Fran's place with Rani I am considered quite lucky. Bert and Kevin cannot wash Raja becaue he attacked his Mahout a few days ago. Leiah's elephant Seetha, has been loaned away from the foundation for 4 months, and everyone agrees that Rani has the best Mahout who Annabob and I get to work with.

In addition to working directly with the elephants, we all have duties around the foundation. I pick gardening to be my project. I work with our gardener Cherith (a Sri Lankan man), Bert, Kevin, Judy, and Annabob. We are trying to grow as many things here that we can to feed the elephants and sell in order to make MEF more self sufficient.

Today we clear weeds, harvest sweet potatoes, water the beds (with watering cans that have to be filled and lugged back and forth), plant okra, and clear a spot of land in the garden for a massage hut. I have never been more exhausted in my life! As we are harvesting sweet potatoes, Annabob decides to eat one raw so she borrows my Leatherman to peel it. I clip it to my belt as I work and everyone has been admiring it, but this is the first time it's needed to be used. 10 minutes later we are eating a delicious sweet potato as I take her to my medicine cabinet for the first time my cut ointment and bandaids need to be used.

I absolutely adore working with Cherith (we all call him Cherry) and have requested to Helena that this be my permanent project. Cherry is very good at speaking English, and is going to help me with my Sinhalese while I'm here. Today I was asking him what he calls all the tools we are using, some of which I don't even know the english name.
I think I will like it here.

Week 2/ Day 8

**My new favorite thing: Overpacking.
When I get here and start to unpack, I put all the medicines and first aid supplies on a shelf in my room, letting everyone know that they are welcome to any of it. I brought so much medicine for multiple ailments and have not needed any of it yet. As some of the volunteers admire my stash, I start to feel like that guy from The Shawshank Redemption, "so I hear you're a guy who can get things." As much as we are all laughing about how many extra first aid supplies I brought, I think we all feel a little bit of security with the shelf there.**

After a 3-4 hour drive I arrive at Millennium Elephant Foundation (MEF or Millennium). I actually thought that I was going to be at Pinnawala Elephant Orphanage, but Michael was telling me that at the Elephant Orphanage his volunteers were much less happy than they are here. They would go weeks of working without ever touching an elephant, and with 80 just a stone's throw away that got very frustrating. At Millennium there are only 8 elephants but they get more individual care from volunteers. I am SO EXCITED.

When I arrive I get to meet the other volunteers. Helena, Wade, and Tamsin (British) are the volunteer coordinators. Isla, Annebob, and Bert (Dutch) are here for 6 more weeks. Neave (Welsh) is here for 2 more weeks. Kevin, Judy (British), Jade, Leiah, and Shala (American) are all leaving in 1 week. Fran leaves in the morning but we cross paths long enough for me to give her the couple of things she forgot at Michael's house and bond over our mutual love of Harriet and Michele.

I am also surprised by my accommodations. I am not with a host family, but in a bungalo with the other volunteers. My roommates are Jade and Leiah, who seem very cool. Of course, everyone seems very cool.

Tomorrow I will take over Fran's slot with Annebob working with Rani, the most beautiful female here, according to Annebob. (She is understandably biased.)

Week 1 -- Days 2-7

Day 2 (Monday)

**My new favorite thing: Mango Lassi
Lassi is a yogurt drink that is mixed with pureed fruit in a variety of flavors. We think that the drinks here are made with curd, not yogurt, because curd is so much less expensive here. Either way, they're delicious. Cold and creamy with a fruity flavor. Michele, Harriet, and I stopped in a little cafe in the Dutch fort today and got some. The cafe was empty except for us, and we sat around drinking our Lassi and reading the books they had lying around the cafe. Mostly books (in English) about Sri Lanka.**

I wake up at 5AM this morning, and though I know I don't need to be up for hours, I don't fall back asleep. I feel rested, so instead I read, daydream, and just relax. At 7:30 I meet Harriet and Michele for breakfast and we plan to go to the beach when they come home for lunch. They just work mornings, I guess. After breakfast are my language and culture classes. Michael talks to me about the culture here and then his adult daughter begins to teach me Sinhalese.

After lunch Michael's son-in-law, Indika, takes us to the beach, a little known spot a 5 minute walk from the road. As it is a holiday here, there is more of a crowd than usual, approximately 40 people, all local. We swim and play in the water, never without being closely watched by at least 15 pairs of eyes. After a while Harriet and I retire to the sand to lay down on our towels for a while, but are quickly driven back into the water by a group of men offering us beer, smoke, and incessantly asking us the same questions over and over in broken English. All of these things so adorable when the interaction is with the children that approach us often, but when accompanied by a leering look and an apparent inability to now when to stop, we quickly remove ourselves. Even the security that Indika's company provides is fading as the other swimmers become more bold. A group of them take our ball (ok, it was a floating fruit that we were playing with) and would not give it to Michele unless she told them her name. She (very wisely) refuses. I had just that morning learned the Sinhalese word for "please," so I reached out my hand for the ball and said it. I must have mispronounced it because they mistook part of it for my name, and spent the rest of the time we were there shouting it, "Karala, come over here!" "Karala, we love you, baby." "Karala!" "Karala, what is your age? 16?" By the way, a lesson to all the men reading this, there is a limit to the flattery of underestimating a woman's age, and I do NOT look 16!

I am so disheartened at the complete failure of my first attempt to communicate in Sinhalese. Indika cheers me up saying that these are clearly not gentlemen and so perhaps they have never heard the word "please." We all laugh and I feel better.

On the way home Indika drops us off at the Dutch fort where we walk to a cafe for the mango lassi and reading. I was supposed to have Indika take me to the turtle conservation project as part of my culture class, but I elected to go with the girls to the cafe instead. I'm sure Michael won't mind.

Day 3 (Tuesday)

**My new favorite thing: Local shopping.
In the local town center there are very few tourists, so the things we see there are authentic and fixed price. This is music to my ears because I hate haggling. I remember stopping in Mexico on a cruise a couple years ago I was introduced to it. I would browse the beach vendors' items and then report back to my friend Jesus what I wanted and he would take my money and haggle for me. Since I don't have Jesus with me here (and his fluency in Spanish wouldn't be as much of an asset anyway) I am glad for some shopping that I can do on my own. It's also a different attitude than tourist traps. People greet us and gesture toward their shop, but do not pressure us or try to keep us from walking away: these are the items/prices and if you don't want them, they let you move on. I bought a couple things for myself here today. It's mothers day and also my mom's birthday while I'm over here, so maybe I thought about that while I was shopping, but maybe not... Don't get your hopes up, Mommy!**

After I wake up I wow Deneshi, Michael's daughter who is teaching me Sinhalese, with my memory of yesterday's lessons, and my quick grasp of today's first lesson, but lose my edge with today's second lesson. I fall apart trying to name the days of the week or tell someone that I am thirsty.

Harriet and Michele come home at lunch and today we go shopping in Galle. I text Michael that I will be at the bus station to meet him for my culture trip (don't want to miss it again today!) at 3, and go shopping with the girls. Today my trip is to the turtle conservation project. Endangered turtles lay eggs on the beaches in Sri Lanka, but people here dig them up and sell them as delicacies for people to eat. The conservation project tries to stop this and also will buy the eggs to save them. They rebury them inside the project's facilities, and release them a few days after they hatch. I get to see some turtles that have hatched just last night. They are so adorable. The trip is interesting, but I wouldn't recommend it. 

After dinner Michele, Harriet and I break out some chocolate and stay up for hours talking in the living room. We are still there long after the house is asleep, comparing our views on Sri Lankan culture and religion and segueing into talking about the political climates in our own countries. Michele is from Switzerland and Harriet from Australia. We compare, contrast, complain, and covet. We all 3 seem to agree that we would like to see a combination of the culture we see here and the culture we have each left behind. The busy, bustling lives we have left contrast sharply with the laid back attitude here. I find it so refreshing to get away from it all, but I think I would go insane if I spent all my days with nothing to do but lounge lethargically in the heat.

Day 4 (Wednesday)

**My new favorite thing: Spiders.
Well favorite might be a bit strong of a word, but considering how far down on the totem pole they were, they definitely get an award for most improved. I have entered into an alliance with any spiders I see. They have free reign of the house and in return for catching the mosquitoes, I do not kill them. I make no promises about the strength of the treaty if one of them crosses over the territory line and begins to crawl on me.**

I am "skipping" my classes today to go on a day trip with Harriet and Michele. We are going surfing at a beach about an hour away and then shopping on the way home. I hope I can stay awake, I've been up since 5 and found it impossible to get back to sleep.

Well, surfing didn't go quite as well as planned. Actually, I had no false hope that I would be any good. Harriet, who surfs every day in Australia, was told by her fellow surfers that there is very good surfing in Sri Lanka, and they made her promise to go. I'm sure that somewhere there is, but we were clearly in the wrong place. Oh well, floating on a board out past the break-line for an hour was well worth the 300 rupee board rental.

Day 5 (Thursday)

**My new favorite thing: hot tea in the heat.
Not only is Sri Lankan tea world renowned, but it is the perfect drink in the heat of the day. Drinking the hot tea makes me sweat more, which ends up cooling me off. It is very refreshing.**

I have double classes today to make up for spending the day out yesterday. One great thing about the immersion program being done by Michael and his daughter is that it's very informal and since I am the only student it can really cater to me. After my morning classes I decide to walk to town to pass the time. I think I remember the way to the local shopping area, but today I am walking alone because Michele and Harriet are still working. Anyone who knows me will not be shocked to hear that I got very lost. It is a straight shot home from the bus station, which I never wandered too far from, so I know if I could make my way back there I could get home. After circling the area around the station twice I finally found the shops (hiding in plain sight) and still made it home for lunch and afternoon lessons.

Today's trip, the beach. I am currently engaged in a staring contest with a crab which has taken a particular liking to me. I noticed something moving out of the corner of my eye while sitting on my towel at the beach. He was walking along toward me, so I flicked some sand at him to scare him away. It did not work as planned. He scuttled away a couple steps and he's just staring at me. Now he's inching toward me. I flick some more sand and that seems to turn him away a bit. Nope. He just made a mad dash to my towel and started clambering around my water bottle and flipflops. I am very proud of myself because I did not make a scene or jump up. I picked up one of my flipflops and shooed him away. Now he's staring and inching again. We are at a standoff.
Creep. Stop. Creep.
Flick sand.
Back off, lay down to look like a rock. Sloooowly rise back onto feet. Creep. Stop. Creep.
Flick sand.
I wish my tuk-tuk driver would get here to pick me up. Michele and Harriet were busy this afternoon, so I am here alone. Well, I guess I have the company of little Sebastian here, and all the locals who are standing around looking at me even though I did not go swimming and am not wearing a bathing suit. In my culture classes Michael warned me about the clothing and the men here. He said that when tourists go to and from the beach they should take care to cover themselves if they do not wish for every man to stare. These men who do not often see this much of a woman walking down the street will all stare, and it irritates the tourists. I agree with his sentiment and abide by the rules of modesty here, but it does little good. Walking around either alone or with Harriet and Michele, we are young white women and we attract attention wherever we go, whatever we wear.

It is a sad night tonight because Harriet is going back to Australia. Michele is especially sad to see her go, they shared a room for 3 weeks. And after Sunday even I will be gone and Michele will be all alone.

Day 6 (Friday)

**My new favorite thing: Sinhalese.
Perhaps by the time my 10 weeks is up I'll actually be able to have a conversation in it. I am certainly not there now, but I know enough to let people know that I am not merely a loud American passing through. The shopkeepers give me approving looks as I tell them what I am looking to buy, and local men tend to leave me alone after I answer their English questions in Sinhalese. What makes me a target--to men, shopkeepers, beggars--is not the color of my skin, but what it indicates: a lack of cultural knowledge. Not knowing that I shouldn't trust the men here, not knowing what things should cost, not knowing that begging is mostly a scam...Michael told me to beware of men asking me to buy milk powder for their children, they prey primarily on white people (probably women) and insist "not money, please just buy me this milk powder," to gain trust, but will return the powder once you're gone and, throwing the shopkeeper a tip, pocket the cash. Using Sinhalese keeps some of this at bay. Not all (I've still felt the need to learn how to say "my name is not 'baby'") but enough that I feel more comfortable. And I like the happy looks I get with the comments of "you are learning Sinhalese!" This is clearly not a trend among visitors.**

This morning for my last culture trip I go with Michele to the orphanage. Michael has arranged for me to go as a volunteer, like Michele, for 3 hours. My last language/culture classes will be this afternoon.

The babies are so cute and some of them are so so small. I spend the morning changing diapers and holding babies. If the environment were slightly less depressing, this would be a job I could do every day. As it is, however, I think that it would overwhelm me. These babies don't have enough diapers, and not nearly enough love. A little girl, much too small for her age, falls asleep in my arms. Another little boy, who I think might have a bit of a fever lays don't on my legs while I fan him to keep him cool. When I go to the section with the older children (probably 1.5-3 years) I am bombarded by tiny hands brandishing toys for me to admire. One boy has a doll, another boy has the shoes that belong on the doll. I show them that the shoes go on the doll. They are very impressed. Then, for the next 5 minutes I am the center of a trading port for doll shoes. The orphanage must have gotten a bulk shipment of these dolls because suddenly I have about 11 shoes (all the exact same) being brought to me. A little girl will thrust 3 into my hand, a couple boys will take them away, but them come back with more. The shoes are running around the collective of children, changing hands, moving around me, but all through me. It's very sweet.

I'm am so glad that I got to see the orphanage, but I think that I'm also glad that I won't be going back after lunch.

My last language class is bittersweet. Daneshi praises my swift memory (if not accent) of the language, and I am happy to please her. I am sad to be leaving, certainly, but I will be on my way to what I really came here to do, work with the Elephants!!

Day 7 (Saturday)

**My new favorite thing: Walks on the beach.
I never used to be a huge fan of walking on the beach. The sand gets everywhere and if I go in the water then the sand sticks to my capris, it's a mess. Here, however, it's not like I'm clean anyway so what does it matter?
My feet actually feel cleaner than before. I'll find grains on sand on me for hours, but I don't feel any grittier than normal, really. There is a stretch of beach just outside Michael's house, so today I went out and walked along it. Coated in sunscreen and with my water bottle slung over my shoulder, I took an hour to myself for a relaxing walk through the waves. Michael's wife, Pushpa, laughed at me when I got home because my capris were so soaked. There was hardly anyone there and I was able to just be there watching as the waves crashed and rolled. Far enough down the beach, the beige sand turns jet black, and my legs had a thin residue of black linger on them. But mixed in with the sand I would swear was crushed up diamonds. All along the beach the sand was twinkling at me in the sunlight. Against the pitch black ground it looked so much like stars, it was really beautiful.**

Today there is very little going on. Harriet is gone home and Michele has left for a trip. I spend the way walking and relaxing with the family. I also finish The Picture of Dorian Gray. I have been reading so much more than usual while I've been here, it's wonderful. I think this makes 4 books/short stories that I've read.

I pack as well because tomorrow I AM GOING TO THE ELEPHANTS!