Maldives (8-24)

Thursday morning the tuk tuk driver arrived with a car and a driver to begin my journey to the Maldives. I was surprised to see another driver, as it had sounded like he was going to drive me. Instead, he went along as a passenger. He had told me the trip would take 1.5 hours using the expressway; so we could leave at 10:00. I said we should leave at 9:30 to be to have enough time. The road went through a series of small towns along the coast. In one town we stopped briefly at a famous temple. The tuk tuk driver asked if I had any coins to donate along with his. I had one, which he seemed pleased about. He explained that the donation and prayer were for a safe trip, which is a good thing to ask for.

At 11:00 we didn’t seem to be near the airport. In fact, I recognized that we were at the green belt in Colombo and knew that it had taken about an hour to get to my hotel, which was near there, from the airport. When I asked, I was told that it was taking longer due to the post-election traffic. I reminded the tuk tuk driver that he had said we would use the expressway, and the driver said he would do that. Half an hour later we weren’t on the expressway, and I was getting a little nervous because it was then two hours before my flight and we were still a distance from the airport. The driver told me to relax; we were in Sri Lanka. A few minutes later we got on the expressway for the last twenty minutes and arrived at the airport at 12:00, 1.5 hours before my flight. I think they didn’t use the expressway sooner because they didn’t want to pay the tolls.

They let me out in front of a window that said “Airport entry ticket;” so I bought one. I hadn’t ever seen this. When I entered the door and showed the man my ticket, he asked about my flight and said I didn’t need the entry ticket, as it is for people who are not flying. I could have returned to the window and gotten a refund, but I wasn’t sure I had time for that; so I considered it a contribution—300 rupees/$2.25—to the airport. The rest of checking in went smoothly. At security, we had to take off watches and shoes. It’s one of the few places outside the U.S. that I’ve had to take off my shoes. It wasn’t necessary to take out my computer. And water seemed to be OK. I’d packed mine in the checked bag, but the list of forbidden items didn’t include water or other liquids not allowed in many countries. And there was no collection bin for water bottles.

After arriving at the Male airport, I bought a SIM card ($11 for two weeks) so I could have a taxi driver call the guesthouse to see which jetty I needed to go to and which boat I needed to take. I tried to change my Sri Lankan rupees but was told that they can’t change them because they are soft money. I still had them because in the rush to check in in Colombo, I didn’t stop at the exchange places outside the airport and didn’t see any place to change money after I checked in. Oh, well. The man said there are a couple banks in Male city that might change them.

I took the ferry across to Male island. There I was to get a taxi to the jetty where I would get the speed boat to the island. The taxis coming by all had passengers. Since instructions were to arrive at the boat by 3:30 and it was 3:25, I was a little anxious about arriving on time for the 4:00 departure. Another foreign woman was also looking for a taxi to get to the harbor for a 4:00 speed boat and was also anxious. I suggested that we could go together. A man who seemed to be helping her asked where I was going and then called the guest house on his phone, thus negating my need for a SIM card, and asked the owner where I needed to go. Since it was the same jetty the couple were going to, he said we could go together. When he got a taxi, he got in with us, which surprised me. I learned that he has a guesthouse and the couple were his guests. He had met them at the airport and was being very nice to help me, too. When we arrived at the jetty, he delivered me to my boat. I really appreciated his assistance.

The speed boat ride was 1.5 hours. When we left the Male harbor, a garbage boat was also leaving. I’d seen one from the ferry, too, and that reminded me that everything on the islands has to be brought in and taken out. 

The clouds were beautiful. We passed a few islands closely enough to see them in the distance. 

The guesthouse owner met me at the harbor and barely greeted me. 

His assistant had a pull cart on which they put my bag and several other items he had had delivered. This is how things are transported on Omadhoo—and probably other islands. They walked ahead, leaving me on my own to follow, which did not feel very welcoming.

After I settled into my room and started to relax, I realized that it was 6:15—sunset time. So I walked to the beach to see the sunset and arrived just in time to see the sun descend below the horizon. It was colorful, and there were patches of rain on one side. 

After the sun set, the beach was crawling with crabs.

At this guesthouse, meal times are fixed and the meals are buffet style. All five of us guests—an Italian family and me—sat together. They had been in Sri Lanka for a week and were returning for another week; so we enjoyed chatting about our experiences.

Friday morning I was awakened by the 4:55 muezzin. I’d forgotten about those. Omadhoo is a Muslim island, as are many of the islands. So no alcohol is allowed, and women have to cover their shoulders and hips. No bikinis on the beach. 

Local women all have head covers, and some wear the full black chador. Some people responded with a smile to a greeting, some didn’t. Very few spoke to me.

Omadhoo is 3 square kilometers in area. 

You can see across the width of the island. There really isn’t much on the island—several shops selling personal supplies and packaged food. The shop next to the guesthouse has a few fruits and vegetables. There are two fire pits where burnable debris, such as leaves, is burned. I saw two motorcycles, which surprised me, as most people ride a bicycle or walk. I also saw an ambulance one day, which really surprised me. I guess it can be used to take people to the jetty to get a boat.

The beach is beautiful—soft, white sand; 

clear aqua or green water. 

Palm trees 

and breadfruit trees are abundant on the island.

I was disappointed to learn that I would not be able to do any of the activities—snorkeling elsewhere, desert island, manta watching—because they require a minimum of two people (four for the manta trip), and the Italians had already done all the trips they wanted to do. The people working at the guesthouse are the least helpful I encountered on this trip. The manager was indifferent and showed no interest in the guests for the first two days I was there. This was also disappointing, especially after many pleasant interactions in Sri Lanka and with the guesthouse owner who had helped me in Male. He was more friendly the last two days. But it was a good place to relax and read. By the end of the first day, I had adjusted to what would probably be the pattern of my Maldives days.

Friday morning I walked around the island. Then it was beach time. When I told the men I wanted to go snorkeling, the cook pointed to the equipment while the other two continued to play computer games. I went to the far end of the beach where the Italians had told me snorkeling is good and settled on a chair. When I tried to snorkel, I couldn’t get the breathing apparatus to shop leaking water into my mouth. So I returned to the guesthouse and tried some other pieces, but they all seemed too big. Finally, I told the men I needed help, and one came to assist me. Equipped with appropriate equipment, I returned to my spot on the beach and snorkeled.

Snorkeling was good, as I’d been told. The coral isn’t amazing, but there is a good variety. My favorite was a type that has blue tips. When I first entered the water, there were a lot of different types of fish in that area. I counted fifteen at one time. I was happy. I floated and swam along the reef enjoying the fish and coral for an hour.

All in all, I spent four hours on the beach—snorkeling twice, reading, napping, and relaxing. Then I returned to relax in the room before heading back to the beach for sunset. 

Saturday morning I walked around the interior of the island, focusing on the trees and whatever was happening. There was more activity than on Friday. After this walk, I went to the beach to snorkel. There were fewer varieties of fish than on Friday, but I did see a few new ones. And being part of the underwater world is always a pleasure. I remembered that snorkeling isn’t good when the water isn’t calm, and there were more waves on the water than on Friday. After relaxing in the shade, I returned to the guesthouse. When I was going to go back to the beach later, the Italian man said it looked like rain. He was right; it started raining several minutes after I started walking. On the way back to the guesthouse, two children were interested I me. They both asked my name, and the boy said he’d write it in his notebook.

It rained heavily for over an hour. The Italians invited me to play cards with them and taught me the Italian card game Machiavelli. It was fun, and spending time with them was enjoyable.

Dinner was the best of my time there: a whole fish nicely seasoned, pasta with oil and tomatoes, fried rice, fried eggplant, cucumber and tomato salad. Other nights featured chicken legs or fish in gravy and sweet and sour chicken.

Saturday highlights:

Boys carting broken cement pieces and dumping them on what looks like a barrier that is being created by sea

Women standing in the water fishing with poles

Women pounding dried coconuts and separating the fiber, which will be used to make rope

Groups of four women standing in the water with a big net and beating the water with sticks. I think they were fishing, as I’ve seen it done that way in other countries.

Women gathering dead palm leaves on a cart, probably for burning.

Women gathering other tree debris and tying it in bundles. I later saw these collected in one place with other tree debris. Probably for burning.

A woman throwing her food garbage into the sea. The crows were upon it immediately.

I hadn’t realized how much work goes into maintenance of the island. When I was chatting with one of the men at the guesthouse and commented on this, he said it is their tradition.

The beach is a depository for food garbage. It gets eaten by crows or washes into the sea. I saw egg shells in a line in the same place for a few days and thought the beach was being littered. When I asked the manager about this (after he became friendly), he said it’s probably different food garbage every day. I had noticed one day that it was gone and thought the beach had been cleaned up, but when I passed the spot later, there were more egg shells. It’s possible that these come from the guesthouse, as there were a lot and they serve eggs for breakfast every day. The villagers have always used the sea because they have no other way to get rid of food garbage. It would cost too much to have it transported to Male for disposal.

Everything else, even plastic bottles, is burned in one of a few cement lined pits. Bottles, too, are part of the beach debris, and I thought people were dropping them there. On my last day, there were fewer bottles; so they either washed out to sea or the beach was cleaned that morning. The manager said they probably come from the sea. There were some, though, that I know were left by people, as they were around the chairs and were quite far from the sea.

Sunday was a very quiet day. I didn’t feel like snorkeling at the same place again, and the water wasn’t calm. The sky was overcast. When I went out to walk around, I found a place under trees by the shore where there were several hammock chairs. I settled into one to read for a couple hours. Very relaxing. Two men joined me for a short time. When I left, a woman and two children were heading there, which made me wonder if they are on their property. I went to my usual spot and sat on the log under the tree there for a while before returning to my room.

While I was in the room, it rained, but it stopped in time for my evening walk. I walked on a path I hadn’t been on before and saw teenage girls playing basketball. One was wearing jeans and a long top and a hijab, and two were wearing pants with long tops and a hijab. The others were dressed in black chadors. Later I came to women playing badminton. It was interesting to watch them do these activities, as this was the first time I’d had the opportunity to watch women in chadors in their daily life doing things other than walking from one place to another. Somehow I always think of them standing or walking as they are seen in photos.

Then it was time to head to the west end for sunset, which was nice. I especially enjoyed the dark clouds on the horizon.

Monday was a repeat of Sunday without the rain without the rain and with a lovely sunset, my last on the island. A British woman arrived at the guesthouse in the afternoon. She was interested in a couple of the activities; so it’s too bad we didn’t have a full day together so we could do something. She told me that the Lebanese family that had arrived on Saturday was thinking about the whale watching trip on Tuesday, but that was too late for me. Such is life. Although I would have liked to do an activity or two, overall, I enjoyed my quiet time.

The men working at the guesthouse became friendlier as my days went on. The cook was extra nice to me. He didn’t speak English, but he understood a small amount. When I was the only person at breakfast one day I told him I don’t like boiled eggs and don’t eat meat so he wouldn’t serve them the next day if no one else was there. He asked about fried eggs, which I also don’t like. I told him I like scrambled eggs and motioned stirring them. A few minutes later he came back with scrambled eggs. Monday night I told the manager that for the 6:20 breakfast I would have only two pieces of bread and some fruit. Either he didn’t tell the cook or the cook wanted to serve a full breakfast because he brought me scrambled eggs, fruit, and heart-shaped waffles and pancakes.

The manager, who paid almost no attention to me the first two days, greeted me on the third and asked about the dinner. On my last day he was quite friendly; so I asked him a bit about island life. Local people eat curry—mostly fish or potato. They don’t eat many vegetables, as they aren’t very available. But some people are changing their habits and starting to eat more Western-style foods like eggs.

In several places I saw what looked like nuts drying on pieces of plastic on the ground. On Monday there was a man at the reception desk; so I asked him what they are. He didn’t know but said they are like almonds. A few minutes later he came to me, having looked them up online, and said they are tropical almonds. They are eaten as a nut or used in sweets.

There is a school on the island for children up to 9^th grade. Starting in 10^th grade, they have to go to the capital island of the atoll or to Male to complete their high school education. They go to Male for university. University graduates don’t usually return to the island, as there aren’t jobs for them. Locally, men are fishermen and women are housewives.

Tuesday it was time to leave on the 7:00 AM speed boat. On the way to Male, there was a big rainbow. In Male, I went to four banks to try to change my Sri Lankan rupees and had no luck. Then it was time to take the ferry to the airport. It was interesting to see the runways stretch out the end of the island to the sea.

I had a window seat on the flight out. It was awesome to see the islands from above—even with my limited view between the wing and the plane.

Bentota (8-20)

After leaving Yala, my driver took me to the bus stop in Tissamaharama where I could get a bus to Bentota, my final destination in Sri Lanka. When I asked the man on duty about a bus to Bentota, he, too, told me to take the bus to Colombo, which would arrive in an hour. He also told me it might be very crowded with no seats because many people would be returning after the election on Monday. After giving me this information, he asked if I had a present for him. No, I didn’t. Later he told me to go to the bus stop and reminded me that he had helped me, which I had thought was his job.

So, when the bus arrived, I wasn’t surprised that there were no seats. However, I had to stand for only ten minutes before a person near me got off. I missed being an old person in China where someone almost always gave me their seat. I had a window seat on the side with three seats, which was fine as I was glad to be sitting for the long ride. The large man next to me overlapped arms a little; so it was a snug. This bus had the loudest music of any of the buses. The video was on with blaring music the whole way.

I’d been told that the trip would take four hours. After three hours and forty-five minutes, I went to the front so the attendant could tell me when to get off. He told me I had to wait an hour. When I said I’d been told it would take four hours, he pointed out the window to a traffic jam and said it was taking longer because of the elections. A group of people was parading down the street. Having given up my seat, I stood at the front, as I wanted to be there when we reached Bentota. When the bus stopped for a break, I went outside and ended out talking with a man who teaches IT at an international school in Colombo. He said he was happy with the election results.

Parliamentary elections were on Monday. Everyone goes to their hometown to vote. The guesthouse owner in Nuwara Eliya was returning to Colombo on Sunday to vote on Monday. I met some other people who were returning to Colombo to vote and then going to Kandy to continue their holiday. Along the road on Tuesday there were occasional firecrackers. Small groups walked down the street carrying green flags. The IT teacher explained that they have seven days to celebrate their victory.

When I arrived at the guesthouse, it was time for dinner. Although prices were the highest I’d encountered at a guesthouse, I decided to eat there anyway because it was convenient. Since the cook hadn’t returned from his trip home to vote, the owner’s wife cooked grilled tuna. When the meal came with a salad, I decided that the high prices were reasonable. This was the first salad I’d had for over a year.

When I woke up Wednesday morning, it was raining. An hour later the rain had stopped and the sun was shining. The guesthouse has a lovely garden and my room had a balcony overlooking the garden. A perfect place to relax and enjoy the morning.

In the early afternoon I set out to walk and go to the beach. I saw a sign to a temple but decided I didn’t need to see another temple. But after two men told me about the very old temple, I decided I should go and headed up the road. The road goes along the river where people have boat rides to see crocodiles among other things. I passed on that. At a junction, I asked a man about the temple, and he pointed ahead saying it was 1.5 kilometers. Later I took the road with a temple sign at the junction thinking it didn’t seem like the right temple. When I got near the temple, a German shepherd stood and barked. Then two other big, barking dogs ran to join it. This was not a temple I was going to see. Farther on I asked two men about the old temple. They said it was 2.5 kilometers, more than I wanted to walk at that point. So I turned back. A tuk tuk driver pointed to the temple I’d been to when I asked about the old temple. A few minutes later he came back and said the temple was far away. I went with him, and it was far, but it was worth the trip.

The Temple of Galapatha is 1500 years old, according to the tuk-tuk driver. Other information confirms that it is a 12^th century temple. I also read that the temple was originally built in the 2^nd century BC. The temple is important because its stupa contains a tooth relic from an important disciple of the Buddha. 

A young monk silently walked me to the two temple buildings and waited while I looked around. 

The walls are covered with beautiful murals. 

 

Both buildings have a reclining Buddha. 

The second building also has Hindu gods in one shrine. I was alone in the buildings with the attending monk. When I was leaving a group was arriving. I was glad to have had quiet time there.

When I finished, I had the driver take me to the beach where I enjoyed a slow walk for over an hour. The waves are rough, and I remembered reading that this is not the season for beaches on the west side of the island. As I was finishing, a man showed me his booklet of places to visit. I had thought about going to a sea turtle conservation project; so when I saw it in his book I agreed to go with him.

When we arrived at Induruwa Sea Turtle Conservation Project, a man took me around and explained the project. People gather the sea turtles’ eggs at night, digging them up after they are laid, and sell them to the center where they are reburied in the protected area. They pay for the eggs so people will sell them to the center rather than eat them.

The eggs hatch in 48 days. They keep track of the time so they know which eggs will hatch when. Two days after they hatch, the turtles are released into the sea. For an additional donation, people can release a turtle, but that didn’t happen until about 6:30 and it was only 4:30; so I didn’t stay to do that. But I did hold one. They estimate that only 10% of the babies survive, as they become food for other animals. But, as the man taking us around said, that’s nature. They can’t guarantee survival of the babies; they can only guarantee that they will hatch and have a chance to survive.

They keep a few turtles for research purposes. 

I held a greenback turtle that was three years old—about 15 kilograms—and another that was two years old—about ten kilograms. They had four species of sea turtles when I was there. The babies were all greenbacks because this is the season when they come to the island.

After returning to the beach, the driver gave me his card in case I come back in the future and can use his services. Since the card has photos of a car and a van and he does long tours, I asked about going to the airport and ended out hiring him for that. Then he offered to take me to the guesthouse for free. Since I was ready to eat dinner, I had him take me to a seaside restaurant so I could eat and watch the sunset, which I knew would be nice. The fish curry—with noodles instead of rice for a change—was good 

and the sunset was lovely with palm trees in the foreground. A nice ending for my time in Sri Lanka.

Notes

Bus stations in Sri Lanka are “bus stands.”

Upon meeting someone, their question is “You from?” The appropriate answer for me is “USA.” Since the answer understood in most of the countries in Southeast Asia and in China is “America,” I found that interesting.