Notes From the Road
My notes from the road posts are anecdotes and observations from my time traveling. They have no particular purpose or angle and serve me only to write down my experience and to give an idea of the experiences Ive been lucky to have.
“Have to get gas, be back shortly”, shouted Mubarak, just as I had awoken from another torrid night's sleep. Last night’s candle had extinguished itself burning its wick into oblivion. The breeze blows gently onshore. The daily wind exchange from cold to hot, land to the ocean had begun but I was still unsure about what my role would be for the day. The courtyard of my hostel was sleepy and devoid of the daily rush of check-ins and people leaving for the road somewhere. Then the whirl started inside my room, it was the fan starting for what would be an unknowable amount of time, thumping but inviting.
Out ahead of me, the vast Indian Ocean washes the bright white sand. In and out, sometimes a slightly bigger wave crashed than the one before. Between us and the beach a kind of no man’s land. The occasional Brahmin roams and mows the lawn of the patchy and lifeless grass. The sun is the most vicious of opponents here. Strong and ruthless, beating you down and sucking your energy the moment you leant out from the Palmyra shade.
Walking beyond the empty area I saw a lone man at the beach, swimming and embracing the shoredump waves. A lone rock poked through the top of the water, covered in barnacles but perfectly rounded. Almost placed immaculately to bask on. Cutting my hand in a climbing attempt I made my way to the top of the outcrop of dry. Now perched at the top like a conqueror of heights. My castle, my rock.
I looked back at the shore. The eastern coast of Sri Lanka is different to the south, more vast and sandy. Distracted and dreamy, a hand bashed onto the side of the rock, it was the local man I saw earlier now eager and committed to dethroning me. He laughed and said “Good morning”. I slowly peeled my eyes from the glimmer of the ocean and at his excited face. “Morning”, I replied. A leisurely morning had turned into small talk. “It’s my birthday today” so the morning also turned into a birthday party.
I always felt like Sri Lankans were the most genuine-hearted people I met. At a time of intense upheaval, having just survived a pandemic and then a severe economic depression, the people smiled and greeted me with pure joy. I never felt like I was a lifeline or that someone wanted something other than a chat.