Sri Lanka Journal- Andew and Annette Dey: 2/20/2005

Journal Entries

Home
Photos!
Special Photos
Jan 17, 2005
Jan 18, 2005
Jan 21, 2005
Jan 23, 2005
Jan 24, 2005
Jan 25, 2005
Jan 26, 2005
Jan 27, 2005
Jan 28, 2005
Jan 31, 2005
Feb 1, 2005
Feb 2, 2005
Feb 3, 2005
Feb 4, 2005
Feb 5, 2005
Feb 6, 2005
Feb 8, 2005
Feb 9, 2005
Feb 12, 2005
Feb 14, 2005
Feb 16, 2005
Feb 18, 2005
Feb 19, 2005
Feb 20, 2005
Feb 21, 2005
Feb 23, 2005
Feb 24, 2005
Feb 28, 2005
March 1, 2005
March 2, 2005
March 3, 2005
March 4, 2005
March 5, 2005
March 6, 2005
March 7, 2005
March 8, 2005

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.

Bensonwood.com

Andrew

When Annette and I were based in Unawatuna, working with Project Galle to distribute aid to IDP camps, we came across a number of tsunami victims who appeared to be worthy candidates for micro-finance grants. One carpenter’s tools had been washed away by the tsunami. A jewelry maker had lost all of his equipment. The spinning wheels used by women to weave the coconut husk fiber called “coir” into rope were destroyed. Fisherfolk whose boats would cost thousands of dollars to repair or replace were looking for bicycles to transport to inland markets the fish caught by their luckier comrades. With support from family, friends, and coworkers in the States, we thought that we might be able to help some of these people start their businesses again.

We have rented a van and driver for the day. Kanchana had driven us while we were working with Project Galle, and he had impressed us with his conscientiousness, his translating ability, and his driving. We have also enlisted the help of Rajika, one of our two hosts at the Shangri-la guest house in Unawatuna. Our sense is that she has been wanting to play a part in the relief work being undertaken by many of her guests, and we think that she will be helpful in elucidating the needs of the people we meet.

Before leaving the guest house, we load four bags of cement into the back of Kanchana’s van. They are leftover from the community kitchen that Mally, Rajika’s partner, has been building. Several weeks before, the carpenter and the jeweler we met told us that if they had cement, they could rebuild their bathrooms. We are hoping to follow up on this.

Rajika proves her worth immediately by suggesting that we talk with a family that used to have a small store in Unawatuna. We had not planned to look for micro-finance opportunities within Unawatuna itself, because there are many people working to assist the villagers, but Rajika makes a compelling case:

“Many foreigners help other people, but not this family. They have seven children, and lost house in tsunami. They used to have small store, now no money to buy supplies for store. We talk with them.”

The “store” is a simple board structure erected in front of the neighbors’ house where the family is staying. A procession of kids tumbles curiously out of the house as we pull up in the van. Rajika explains our intentions, and has the mother make a list of supplies needed to start the business again. We tell her that we will try to bring them back later in the day.

As the kids wave good-bye, Annette asks Rajika about their ages.

“Two years to twelve—like staircase. The mother, now she had operation.”

As we pass through Galle, we see a large cash-for-work group picking through rubble, gathering it, and sorting it. The participants are sporting dark blue USAID baseball caps. At a meeting in the Government Agent’s office several weeks before, I had met a USAID official who seemed eager to fund cash-for-work. I am pleased to see that he has apparently succeeded.

We head toward Gintota, the small hamlet where we had run into the carpenter and the jeweler three weeks before. When we arrive, however, we don’t find either one. The jeweler has moved to the Galle Fort because his wife had a baby who needs medical attention. Nobody seems to know where the carpenter has gone. We ask the woman who seems to be the spokesperson for the gathered families whether she thinks they could use several bags of cement.

“Don’t want to rebuild bathrooms if government will knock down.” The bathrooms are located inside the 100 meter buffer zone that is being proposed by the government—a regulation bitterly opposed by many people who previously lived near the ocean.

A woman walks us over to her half-damaged bathroom and says that she would like to rebuild it. We happily oblige with a bag of cement. One down, three to go. We never considered that we might have a hard time getting rid of bags of cement. I am struck by how quickly the situation all along the coast changes from one week to the next. After enjoying the juice of king coconuts thrown down for us by a child who shimmies up a tree, we head back toward Galle.

Kanchana knows a wholesale store in town where we can buy supplies to stock the small shop in Unawatuna. Rajika goes into shopping mode. We spend about forty dollars on food items, and then head across the street to buy another eight dollars worth of postcards. The only thing left on the list is cigarettes. So far, so good. We drop the supplies with the family before heading east along the coast, and expect that we will see the shelves fully stocked when we return later in the day.

Rajika has mentioned that several of her relatives who live in Weligama have bathrooms that were damaged by the tsunami. She thinks that they would welcome the bags of cement. The first house that we visit is actually in great shape, although flood water has damaged the outside bathroom. It turns out that the owner of the house would prefer to have a toilet built closer to the house. Like many people who survived the tsunami, at night she is fearful of straying too far from her house. We unload the three bags of cement, and suggest that she find a mason who can give her an estimate for the work.

Rajika then takes us to another of her relatives whose situation is similar—the house was somewhat damaged, and the outside bathroom was completely destroyed. We see that the family’s Rottweiler has a new masonry dog house, and wonder about their priorities. We suggest that they, too, get an estimate from a mason to rebuild the bathroom, and we promise only that we will see what we can do.

On the way back to Unawatuna, we stop in Mitigama to visit Yannick, a French surfer who has been living in the village for the past six years. As best we can tell, Yannick has nearly single-handedly ensured that his fellow villagers have been well cared for since the tsunami. In the immediate wake of the disaster, he conducted his own needs assessment, and worked diligently to ensure that those needs were met. His sister in France has raised over 100,000 Euros of aid money. Yannick has negotiated with the French Fisheries Division for the replacement of all thirteen of the village’s fishing boats. He has also contributed funds to restart the local bakery, and he is planning to help out other small businesses as appropriate.

We have an engaging chat—Yannick is full of good humor and strong opinions—during which we learn that many of the villagers from Mitigama are participating in the cash-for-work program that we had seen in Galle.

“I don’t know why they come all the way out here for the workers, but it is good for our village. The bus picks them up every morning. These people are happy to be working, and they need the money.”

We make plans to check in with Yannick again—possibly for a surfing lesson—before we leave Sri Lanka.

On the drive back to Unawatuna, we ask Kanchana whether he has any ideas about people who might be helped by small infusions of cash or equipment.

“It’s difficult for me, because if my neighbors see me helping one family, but not another, maybe they get mad at me.” This is an issue with which we ourselves have wrestled. Sometimes the allocation of these direct infusions of aid seems arbitrary. We suggest to Kanchana that he give this some thought, and we promise to give him a call when we return to the south in a week-and-a-half.

When we arrive back in Unawatuna, we are disappointed to see that the store we expected to see stocked is still empty. I had wanted to be one of its first customers.

“Any idea why they have not stocked the shelves?” I ask Rajika.

“Today no good for starting business. Bad horoscope day. Will start tomorrow.”