Sri Lanka Journal- Andew and Annette Dey- 1/21/2005
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Links from Andrew and Annette:
Pro Photographer Dixie's web site
Mondo Challenge set up Andrew and Annette's trip.
Unawatuna is the village where they're staying and working
In the north, Andrew and Annette are working with Norwegian People's Aid. NPAID is partnered with the German organization called Arbeiter Samariter Bund.
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Andrew
The logistical challenge: how to distribute one hundred boxes full of donated clothes to the 235 families in Unawatuna who need them? Annette and I have already seen the piles of used clothes dumped by the side of the road. At one of the refugee camps we visited, kids were playing in the clothes like they were piles of autumn leaves. The Unawatuna Development Society, a group of local business leaders, is spearheading efforts to help the many destitute families in Unawatuna. They have taken delivery of close to two hundred boxes of clothes donated from Europe.
We arrive at the Blue Eyes Hotel at 9:30: Heidi and Max who came recently from Switzerland, Annie and Beate who were sorting clothes here yesterday, and Rajika, co-owner of the at the guest house where we are staying. Warmasena, the owner of the Blue Eyes, and one of the key figures in the Unwatuna Development Society, greets us at the entrance. Nobody here yet, he says with an apologetic smile. Maybe in half an hour. We are getting used to Sri Lanka time.
An hour later, a number of local people have arrived to help. Several men begin bringing boxes out of the storage room. I read a label:
Aid Package/Hilfspacket Sri Lanka
Contents: Mixed Women's Clothes
As we begin sorting the clothes, Annette comments that many of them seem
to have come from Graz, the city in Austria where she grew up. Our plan
is to sort the clothes by size and type. Before long, chaos begins to prevail.
I am reminded of the Christmas Sale at Filene's Basement. I cannot help
noticing that some of the clothes are very nice: Benneton, Esprit. There's
a shirt that would look good on me. And it probably will not fit the recipient.
Although I have been operating with just two button-down shirts since arriving,
I resist the urge. Later I find out that Max scored a shirt for himself. "I
will wash it and leave it here for the people when I go."
When the space in which we have been working is essentially filled with piles of clothes, Warmasena and his cohorts decide that we should start putting them into bags for individual families.
"We have here lists of each family in the village, and what they need. We will put pillows, sheets, towels, and clothes into these bags." He shows us a pile of large blue plastic bags. "On Saturday at the big distribution, we will also hand out mats, pots, cookers, and other things." I wince as I think about trying to distribute all these items to 235 families. "This man here," Warmasena hands the lists to the man at his side, "he knows the families, and can help make sure that the clothes will fit."
It's a noble idea. We number each of the bags to correspond to a family, and in for the first ten bags or so, we make an effort to sort by size:
"One boy sixty-four," he says, "Woman twelve, and girl fifty-five."
" How large?"
" Man very fat. Girl like her," he points to a child who is watching.
Eventually we reach a shared understanding on the approximate age ranges for men, women, girls, and boys, and we give up on trying to determine sizes. At noon, we have filled about thirty bags, and energy is flagging.
"I go for beer!" says Warmasena. I don't have any small bills to contribute. Warmasena accepts my 1,000 Rupee note. Even here, the project steward buys the beer. Have an hour later, a case of Lion Lager and a bag of rice packets arrive. The rice packets are the standard lunch for workers: a plastic bag filled with rice, curry, and lentil dahl. By now Annette and I are old hands (chuckle) at eating curry with our fingers.
After lunch, several teenage boys begin their own bag-filling operation, and the level of chaos doubles. We and they make good progress for the next couple of hours. As the afternoon wears on, however, the number of workers dwindles, and the crowd of onlookers grows. I notice that we seem to fill more bags now that just Annette, Max, Heidi, Rajika and I are working. By 4 p.m. we have filled about seventy bags. Warmasena asks if we would be willing to do the next group on the list--another forty bags. We waiver, but accept. Any bag-filling tomorrow is likely to be less efficient. By now we are working rapidly.
"Girl, ten, Annette."
" Woman, thirty, Heidi."
" Max, got those pillows?"
I handle men's shirts, pants, and sarongs. Rajika provides a personal touch:
"This woman, she pregnant." She searches for a large dress.
" This family, they lose everything." We stuff additional clothes into the bag.
We finish at 5:30. Between us and the teenagers, we have filled about 150
bags. That leaves eighty-odd bags for tomorrow. Just as we are headed home
for a shower, Preshan--another restaurant owner--arrives with tea and biscuits.
We have learned that one does not turn down an invitation to tea and biscuits.
Tea finished, we rise to leave.
"Thank you very, very much for your work." Warmasena seems to think that the work would not have gotten done without us. "We would like to invite you to dinner tonight at the Flower Garden." It's a restaurant owned by Sassi, another member of the Unawatuna Development Society. "We see you at around 7:30?" We agree, knowing that he really means 8:00.