Kelly Jones - Journal
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I have returned and am trying to catch up to my normal schedule. It is hard with the jetlag and time difference. Today, I received the second portion of the Hepatitis A shot. I find it ironic to receive more shots when the trip is over. However, the journey is not over.
I continue to tell everyone I encounter about my journey. Now it has become a journey of the heart, rather than distance.
The visions of the bright smiles and warm hearts of Sri Lanka still congest my head. I am still trying to absorb the numerous narratives begged to be heard. I hope to help Meredith College pursue its endeavors, as well as speak with anyone who is interested in the tsunami relief.
I hope the stories I have shared will influence others to become personally involved. The tragedy of the Indian Ocean tsunami has diminished in the news and I hope our trip has helped Meredith College become more aware and familiar with the victims of Sri Lanka.
The past two days have been very busy, but informative. Yesterday, we visited the University of Colombo, where we met with international law and sociology faculty and students. They provided suggestions and ideas for where money raised for the tsunami relief efforts should be placed. The Colombo students gave Meredith students a tour of their college. It was interesting to learn a single class is taught in three different languages: Sinhalese, Tamil and English. We ran into two of the young women who accompanied us on our trip earlier this week. It is amazing to become friends with someone in another country and I do hope to keep in contact with all four of these women.
After lunch, we met with the Deputy Speaker in the House of Parliament. This was the day following the broadcasted tsunami warnings. Here, I learned that there was actually a second tsunami that occurred in Sri Lanka last night. Water receded and a small tsunami occurred, but caused no harm.
Because we have been diligently working, we devoted today as a day of tourism. We left our hotel around 6:30 a.m. and headed to Kandy, a city mounted upon hills. Along the way, we made many stops. The first stop was at The Millennium Elephant Foundation. Elephant rides are given and Laura, Rebekah and I were the first to hop on. After the bumpy ride, I was given the opportunity to bathe the elephant using a coconut shell. The elephant was quite calm and relaxed as he laid in the river, ready for my labor. It was incredible to see this giant elephant flick his trunk up in the air, sprouting water over its head.
We made another stop, an additional elephant stop. We visited the Pinnewala Elephant Orphanage. Here, a collection of elephants are kept, ranging from newborn and elderly to orphaned and abandoned, as well as those that are injured in the wild. The baby elephants are the absolute cutest! It was fascinating to watch the female elephants rinse the baby elephants, two elephants lock their trunks and one elephant attempt to grab food from the hands of a worker. I have a new fond love of elephants.
We visited a spice and herbal garden, as well as the Peradeniya Botanical Garden. We saw an array of spices and herbs: jasmine, citronella, pepper, cloves, cocoa, aloe vera, cinnamon and sandalwood. The smells were wonderful! At the botanical garden, we came across a cluster of monkeys. One hairless newborn dangles from the stomach of a monkey as the mother carried it across the lawn. Many monkeys hung from trees, swinging from branch to branch. They were quite entertaining.
We visited a batik and wood carving factory before we finally arrived at the Temple of the Tooth. This Buddhist shrine holds Buddha's tooth. According to legend, the tooth was rescued during Buddha's cremation and smuggled in the hair of an Orissan princess to Sri Lanka.
As the words "Asia Quake. 8.2 Reichter Scale. Tsunami warnings issued." flashed across the television screen, we never feared for our own safety. We were planted in a lovely, stable hotel along a hill. I thought of the worry in my mother and father's eyes, but more compassionately, I thought of the families we had met along the beach just the days before. I can't imagine how they must have felt, having to rehash this encounter again. I suppose the bright side to this is, earthquakes and tsunamis will come with warning now.
Today was the most somber of the four days that I have been in Sri Lanka, but an unexpected surprise brought a smile to my face. My mother sneaked an Easter package into the bottom of my suitcase, instructing me to open at Easter. As I dream of Easter dinner and Easter egg hunts, I begin to miss my family.
As we travel from our exhibitions, we pass the two young girls we met the day before. I learn that one of the girls lost her mother in the tsunami. Once again, I am fighting to hold back my tears. How lucky I am to still have a father and a mother still living.
The day continues to get harder as we visit a specialized population building for deaf and mentally handicapped children. It was comforting to know that we left another bag of supplies behind.
I am writing this journal from a gorgeous outside terrace at our hotel, overlooking a beautiful coastline filled with completely damaged houses. This afternoon we visited this community, Lovigahawaththa, one that Dr. Webb and John Rose became acquainted with on their stay during Christmas Eve.
As we begin to walk closer to this community, I see a bright yellow sandal buried beneath the sand. "Is this the shoe of a survivor or someone taken by the tsunami," I ask myself. I'm relieved not to find the answer. As we walk closer to the government building provided for the victims within this community, children run to grab our attention. They ask for our names and continuously sing our names repeatedly as they follow us along the beach. They are energetic, sparkling children who were eager to sing their ABC's. I learned that the children can not sleep at night because they can hear the sound of the ocean.
We continued our walk aside structure after structure still standing, but barely intact. Tents have been built and clothes hang from what is left. Many people still live where their homes were damaged. They yell, "come here, come here" begging for their story to be told. One woman walked up to me. She only speaks four words, "two daughters, tsunami, dead." She holds two pictures of two little girls dancing. It is heartbreaking.
At some point I asked myself, "When will these stories stop." I'm afraid they will never stop. At dinner, we discuss the many stories we've heard and it helps to be able to tell their stories for them. I hope they know that I am listening to their stories and I will continue to tell their stories for them. They will be with me always.
Today was the three month anniversary of the tragic day the Indian Ocean tsunami devoured homes and carried many lives.
Today was an eventful and knowledgeable day. I heard countless heroic stories, but more importantly, some of the most tragic tales that it became impossible to hold back tears.
Our first stop was a monk ceremony that was being held at a school named Sri Vajiragna Maha Vidyala in the city of Weligama. Around 800 children, male and female, in grades one through ten attend. The principal of the government school is a monk who lives there. I noticed one building completely destroyed.
In one classroom, I witnessed the water line from the tsunami that rose up to eight feet. Books, musical instruments and computers were destroyed, but through various donations, new ones have been supplied. New, blue shelves have been built to hold new books. Because December 26, 2004 was a full moon, which Buddhists consider a holiday, the children did not attend school that morning. Now the school has plans to rebuild on stilts because many children are upset that they can see the ocean.
As I was talking to two lively 16-year old girls dressed in their crisp, white dress uniforms, 100 monks gracefully walked behind another while chanting and drums echoed in the background. A Buddhist ritual, alms giving, was taken place at this school to commemorate the three month anniversary. One hundred young boys draped in orange and burgundy cloths rinsed their feet before entering the building where they are offered food. A few moments later, a young man came around with a spool of white thread, generously removing portions of the thread and tying it around wrists. As the line builds, he moves onto person after person. The white thread is another Buddhist ritual, a prayer of security that is worn until it falls off.
Our next stop was the Valukarama refugee camp in Matara, where a ceremony was being held to the Carolina-Sri Lanka Friendship for donating money to the 36 displaced families of armed forces affected by the tsunami. Twenty-seven houses were lost completely and 9 were partially damaged. A moment of silence was held for those who died in the tsunami.
The children showed a dance before we ate lunch. I attempted to learn it; however, I was unsuccessful. The young girl with her hair in pigtails, wearing a bright red dress and beautiful, big, brown eyes laughed at me. At lunch, we ate the Sri Lankan way with our fingers instead of silverware. It was messy, but fun. I decided to use this opportunity to interview tsunami victims. Three children, between the ages of 6 and 10, were playing in the sand. An interpreter and I walked over and began to play with the children. I learned that they lived near the ocean and played at the beach everyday. One child said, "I don't even want to see the beach now." Their family moved the children before the tsunami reached land. Luckily the children won't be haunted by the images of the waves because the children never saw the tsunami coming.
A young woman walked closer. I was told a remarkable story of bravery and survival. This young woman and her family hung onto the walls of her home when the tsunami hit her house. They all survived. She said, "If we ran, we would die." Now she doesn't want to return to the area she used to live. She is frightened of the sea and fears more tsunamis. She thinks if she was to return, she will be swept away by the sea.
We then traveled to a new area where the people in this refugee camp will be relocated. They were shown four settings, but all families agreed to move to this beautiful countryside location, hidden behind the backdrop of many hills. It was obvious that these families are trying to move away from the ocean.
Our last stop was at the Ruhuru children's orphanage. Children between the ages of 0-5 were neglected by their parents previous to the tsunami. There was only one child at this orphanage that lost his parents in the tsunami. No matter their hardship, each child brings a bright smile. I will never forget the young boy, dressed in bright blue sleeveless top and white pants who wanted to play peek-a-boo or the young infant in the crib reaching his hands up in the air, wanting to be held.
This morning we traveled two hours to reach another hotel in Galle, Closenburg Hotel. Tony Andrady, a Sri Lankan native and president of Carolina-Sri Lanka Friendship, and four female law students from the University of Colombo accompanied us on our travels to help interpret the Sinhalese language. In Colombo there was a sense of normalcy. People were going back to work and maintaining life as it was before the tsunami. However, in Galle there is much more devastation to notice.
The road we travel is parallel to the ocean. I focus my attention to the destruction along the shoreline. There are many torn roof tops and debris still lurks into the ocean. Demolished fishermen boats are lined along the coastline, one after another.
During our journey, we made three stops along the way. The first stop was in the city of Aluhgama, which means "new village." Various donors are building houses for the tsunami victims and the Carolina-Sri Lanka Friendship also donated $5,000 to build a house. Cinderblocks and sticks lay the foundation for the house. Two men were chopping coconuts and offered coconut juice to us. It was delicious.
Next, we stopped at Theldeniya where the well-photographed red train was demolished by the tsunami. 1,000 people thought they could find safety on the train, but died. It was heart wrenching to see the windows shattered, damaged exterior and piles of train tracks. As I stood around trying to grasp this reality, a woman walked up to me. A second later, her husband joined. The woman invited me into, what she called, her "temporary home." Huts were being built along this area for people to find short-term shelter. The government is prohibiting these people to rebuild within 100 meters of the ocean. The woman informed me that she lost one daughter and two sons in the tsunami. How do I respond? What could I possibly have said? My heart goes out to this woman and her husband. They will forever be in my prayers.
Our last stop was at a refugee camp, where we were greeted with numerous children who wanted their picture taken one after another. They were fascinated by the idea of digital technology, seeing the picture immediately after it was taken. Again, we were welcomed with beautiful smiles. We served lunch and offered our hands in the passing of bricks where a school was being built in the refugee camp. We were able to talk with the refugees. One little boy asked for my address. I gave it to him and I do hope to hear from him someday.
We arrived at the Colombo airport around 7:30, gathered the rest of our baggage and headed to our hotel. Along the way, a herd of women and men were walking to a garment and shoe factory, ready for their day to begin. As we drive, I glance along the shoreline ride and was fascinated by the slanting coconut trees. I recall the numerous stories of survival and I try to imagine how survivors clinched to the branches for hours. With each passing tree, I try to tell a story of how someone holding on with all their might could have outlasted the tsunami.
The images that will remain throughout my life will always be the big, bright eyes and beautiful smiles of the Sri Lankans. As we continue to drive to our hotel, I watch young children walking to school. Many children were cramped inside vans and riding in tuk tuks, small motor buggies common in Sri Lanka. They all smile and wave as we pass by them. I wonder what they think of Westerners.
We pass a monk draped in burgundy cloths on the side of the road. We pass a cemetery, a hospital and a cricket ground. Mostly, I notice the daily routine of sweeping the sidewalks outside of stores and shops.
We finally arrive at our hotel a little over an hour later due to the heavy traffic. Mount Lavinia is a beautiful hotel that carries an old-world charm. While others caught up on their sleep for the afternoon, I decided to lay out by the pool. Unfortunately, my lunch was interrupted due to nausea. John Rose thinks it was because of the sun. I think it was due to lack of sleep on the plane.
While I felt dizzy in my room and tried to sleep, the others went to an orphanage. They came back saying they had met 17 curious, playful and well-mannered little boys. I hate I missed it, but there are other chances for me during the stay. We had a buffet dinner at our hotel tonight. I tried the famous coush coush, Sri Lankan rice. The food is very spicy and the fruits are delicious. After dinner we all needed our sleep, ready for what is in store for us tomorrow.
I can remember the devastating images of the Indian Ocean tsunami as they flashed across the news shortly after December 26. After studying abroad this past summer, I considered myself a global citizen and immediately felt empathy for the victims.
Upon returning for the spring semester, I was troubled with finding an idea for my senior thesis. Over the fall I took an Intercultural Communication course and was fascinated by the idea how communication can increase awareness and understanding of cultural diversity.
Serendipitously, I was given the opportunity to report on the local tsunami relief efforts across campus. Meredith College developed a tsunami relief committee, titled "A Tide of Hope." As an intern in Meredith's Office of Marketing & Communications, I sat in on the Tide of Hope committee meetings and reported on the campus-wide response.
Naturally it all came together and I developed a proposal for my senior thesis concerning the Indian Ocean tsunami relief efforts. As a communication major, I hope to research the relationship between humans and nature, but more importantly, how the perception of nature has changed through the eyes of the people of Sri Lanka.
In preparation for the travel, I was injected with five shots in one day. Terrified of shots, I knew it was something that had to be done. I have immersed myself as much as I could in learning about their culture. However, as much as I study I do not think anyone is prepared for witnessing tragedy in the face of the survivors. What keeps my energy going despite the amount of devastation is that the best way to communicate tragedy is through their eyes and minds.
As I embark on this life changing journey, I hope to gather research for my senior thesis and write articles for my internship that could guide a career in cultural journalism.
Kelly Jones, '05
