Two Days in
Trinco
Caroline Fynn
©
Copyright 2022 by Caroline Fynn
|
Photo by the author. |
Shortly
after I returned to my home country, life seemed to be over-regulated
and dull. Following some years of living and working in South Asia,
it was difficult to adapt to British life. I gave it my best shot but
six months along the line I still missed the jewel of a country that
is Sri Lanka and revisited for a vacation.
I
stayed with a friend, Roshan, at her home in the capital city of
Colombo. We decided to take a break at her beach villa near the
Northeastern coastal town of Trincomalee, known to the locals as
Trinco.
We
boarded the night bus and as Roshan had founded an animal rescue
charity, we loaded the storage space with dog food and a variety of
medications. We knew it would be much needed in Trinco as there is
little support for the stray dogs and cats in that part of the
country. We settled into the seats located behind the driver, I
kicked off my flip-flops and our weekend of adventure had begun.
We
hadn’t been travelling for long when I felt something happening
to my foot. At first, I didn’t register the source of this
strange sensation but came to realize that the driver was playing
with my toes. It was creepy and alarming considering he was
maneuvering a bus full of passengers on less than desirable roads in
the dark. I didn’t say anything in case he had in error taken
hold of my foot instead of Roshan’s. Considering her partner, a
friend, and Roshan’s seven-year-old niece, Nisha, would be
joining us when the bus stopped at the town of Dambulla, I thought it
best not to mention it.
Following
a six-hour journey, spent mostly with my feet on the seat, we arrived
in Trinco. We travelled by tuk-tuk to Roshan’s villa situated
on the Blue Lagoon at Irrakandy, close to the better-known Nilaveli
beach. We arrived as
the sun was rising and relished in the bruised shades of saffron,
russet, and indigo that draped the cerulean sky. We had walked
straight into paradise and in a heavenly daze, we strolled along the
soft pale sand beside the turquoise water. In the distance, a group
of fishermen were huddled near their boats as they prepared for the
day. Otherwise, the beach was deserted, with not a footprint to be
seen.
Once
we had settled into the villa, Roshan said we would take a short boat
ride to Pigeon Island, popular for its coral reef, a plethora of fish
- approximately 300 species - turtles, octopuses, and the rock
pigeons that give the island its name. It then dawned on me that I
had a problem. Back in the UK, I had packed a silly little bikini. No
way did I want to wear this alongside the two men. And Pigeon Island
might think another strange species had shown up. I imagined that
they would either laugh or feel sick at the sight of me, after all, I
resembled an anemic blancmange. I told Roshan I didn’t want to
go and that I would sit on the beach and read until they returned.
She wasn’t having any of it.
“You
have to come you can’t miss out. Anyway, what’s the
matter?”
I
could have said I felt unwell or suffered sea sickness. Damn, I could
have faked a phobia of turtles. But I told the truth and said I could
not wear the bikini because the men were present. Unfortunately,
Roshan misunderstood for she said,
“Now
look, Ajith is my boyfriend,
and Sunil is married, so you don’t need to be concerned.
Besides, you could
always throw a t-shirt over your beach wear.”
So,
she thought I had expected to attract these
men! I was so taken aback I couldn’t speak. I didn’t put
it right, and to this day we have never again mentioned it. In any
case, Roshan’s t-shirt idea solved the problem and we boarded
the boat.
We
arrived at Pigeon Island and I could not have imagined such a place
to exist. Roshan was
right, I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it. I grabbed some
goggles and swam out. Sri Lankans often speak of nirvana and I
guessed it couldn’t be better than this. I spent quite some
time mooching around among the coral, marveling at the blazoned
fingers of life. I merged into a kaleidoscope of color and swam among
a mosaic of fish of fluorescent greens and golds, scarlet and
mazarine. They bore a montage of patterns, stripes and zig zags
galore, all sculpted to perfection. I was completely present in that
moment, entranced in the magic, and absorbed in the wonderland of
life. Should a genie
have appeared and transformed me into a sea creature to live
forevermore within those waters, I would have had no regrets. That is
until a shark swam past. It was about the size of an average man and
I experienced a volcanic shake back to reality. My primary thought
was that the thundering of my heart would alert the shark to my
presence. I resolved to stay calm, and unbelievably, I slowly and
carefully swam to the shore.
Roshan
and the guys, along with a couple of local fishermen found my fear
hilarious, even little Nisha giggled. I hadn’t known that
Pigeon Island is home to the Blacktip Reef Shark, and therefore
harmless. Although I have since discovered that they have,
on occasion, mistakenly
bitten human legs as folk have meandered through shallow
waters.
During
the evening we chilled on the beach beside the villa. Given that it
was as hot as hades, we
chose to sleep outside. We moved our beds out onto the terrace and
secured the mosquito nets. As we turned in Roshan said,
“Don’t
worry if you hear strange noises, it will only be wild boar.”
I
didn’t comment but thought that unlike the harmless sharks of
Pigeon Island, wild boar would pose a risk wherever they might live.
Still, I slipped into bed and listened to the whisper of the ocean
alongside the night sounds of the wilderness and became enveloped in
a sense of serenity.
Following
a delicious Sri Lankan breakfast of curd and honey,
freshly baked bread, banana, papaya, and melon, Roshan and I took to
the beach. Armed with sacks of food, boxes and bags of medicine,
we set out to feed and administer treatment to the stray dogs and
cats. Many homeless souls live at the beach area, some sick or
injured, others with skin conditions, and we encountered a skinny and
bedraggled mum with a litter of pups.
The
south of Sri Lanka is popular with foreigners and tourists and
significant rescue organizations exist in that area, mostly along the
coast. Little help is available for the animals living inland, or on
the northern shores.
For this reason, Roshan set up her charity ‘Rural Rescues’
to take care of stray dogs and cats living on rural land.
For
two years I worked with a rescue center in the south.
We dealt with appalling diseases and injuries, starvation, abuse, and
neglect. It is soul-destroying and mentally and physically exhausting
to constantly wade through the eternal quagmire of suffering. No
matter how many animals we may treat, for each one, there are more
waiting in line. The only long-term glimmer of hope to shine out from
this torturous pit is to spay and neuter. Roshan has since set up a
second charity, ‘Spay it Forward.’
She has undertaken a spay and neutering program in Dambulla and has
traveled to Trinco to neuter and treat animals in need.
Across
the world problems arise when folk with good hearts and little
knowledge of animals set up rescue organizations. Roshan studied and
worked with wild and domestic animals in the USA, and New Zealand.
She is qualified and often works at the Pet Vet Clinic in Colombo.
Therefore, I have faith in her charities and will always support her.
The
south is mostly populated with Sinhalese communities. The north is
home to Sri Lankan Tamils who bore the brunt of the thirty-year civil
war. They have received no compensation, not even an apology for the
heinous war crimes they endured. And yet, they are the friendliest
nation. We did not experience a hint of suspicion towards us. As we
worked on the beach,
feeding, administering worm pills, and spot-on drops,
some of the locals assisted. They also told us where to locate needy
animals. Roshan detected a pack of dogs across the lagoon, and a kind
fisherman transported us and then left. We had not been walking for
long when suddenly our legs were drawn knee-deep into the sand. We
looked wide-eyed at each other and in unison we said,
"Quicksand!"
We
struggled to keep going, especially as we didn’t know how bad
it might become, or when we might walk out of it.
"Make
sure you don't fall over," Roshan said.
Oh
my, the thought of it. Thank goodness Nisha wasn’t with us.
Still, we made it through and attended to the dogs. By the way, don’t
worry about those animals, they know their terrain and won’t
get pulled in.
We
returned to the villa and sipped well-deserved wine while resting on
the back terrace among the palm trees. Just as I had reached that
gorgeous place between awareness and sleep, I was shaken into fight
or flight by a cacophony of screeches and screams. A bunch of around
ten monkeys charged past in panic, they ran for their lives. I jolted
upright and saw a figure creeping through the trees, a local carrying
a rifle. Damn, a monkey poacher. Without thinking I bolted towards
him. As angry as a tiger caught in a leg trap,
I yelled for him to stop. He gaped at me with bemusement and before I
could accomplish anything, Roshan and the guys appeared along with a
gang of locals. Folk miraculously show up at the scene of an incident
in Sri Lanka, no matter where it might occur; be it deep in the
jungle or on a remote beach, people materialize. Following some
confusion due to the mix of Tamil, Sinhalese, and English languages,
Roshan made it clear that nobody was permitted to poach on her land.
The guy with the gun gave up and the monkeys were free to live
another day.
As
I rested that evening and gazed at the shimmering stars that
perforated the opaque sky, I reflected upon the weekend. What an
adventure. No wonder I had found life in the UK to be tedious. I
pondered whether English life had given rise to my
self-consciousness. In any case, it didn’t last long, I had
ditched the t-shirt out on Pigeon Island, and with so much sun,
our skins had become six shades darker. I was more than happy about
that, but Sri Lankans
most certainly do not want this.
Skin whitening creams sell faster that toilet rolls in a pandemic. It
didn’t bother Roshan, but boy was she in trouble when Nisha
arrived home.
We
boarded the night bus back to Colombo only to meet the same driver. I
had forgotten to mention the antics of the outbound journey, although
I have since discovered that in no way would he have messed with
Roshan’s toes. As she ushered me into the same place behind
this crazy guy, I prepared for the next six hours spent with my feet
on the seat.
*****
References
https://m.facebook.com/Rural-Rescues-Sri-Lanka-245513857375643/
https://www.facebook.com/Spay-It-Forward-Sri-Lanka-107724364095832/
https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotels-g2424710-Nilaveli_Eastern_Province-Hotels.html
Caroline
Fynn has worked in animal rescue in Sri Lanka, Thailand, and Vietnam.
She is an ardent supporter of animal welfare and rights. Writing as a
hobby for many years, Caroline took a course in creative writing with
the Open University. She is the author of one novel which she hopes
to soon publish. Caroline lives in the UK.
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