The Bead Shop

Apparently, when the Myanmar contingent left, they took our bandwidth. What’s the world coming to when you can’t trust a ruthless junta leader? I had the worst time logging on and downloading any pictures or videos. Clearly it was my punishment for kvetching about the jack-booted thugs in the lobby. One thing I wanted to relate was a visit to a bead shop in Wellawatte. My friend Jennifer makes amazing jewelry and home furnishings with beads and is a true artist. I mentioned to Lino that I wanted to bring home some unique glass beads for her and she took me to the coolest bead shop in the world. Full disclosure: Beads do nothing for me. Generally speaking, they have to be turned into something beautiful for me to appreciate them in any way. That said, this place was amazing! The size of a large walk-in closet, it was stacked to the rafters with small 2x4x6 inch clear boxes and bags filled with every kind of bead and sequin one can imagine. There was a path about eight inches wide on the floor due to all the sacks of beads stacked along the edges. I found several types of beads and bought a hundred grams each of four different kinds for the whopping total of about $4.50. The pictures truly don’t do it justice.

Human rights violators need to stick together

I had an interesting experience the other day, apparently the junta leader of Myanmar, general Than Shwe, was here. By “here” I mean at my hotel, attending a reception in his honor. My tuk-tuk driver, Janaka, sort of accidentally dropped me off in the middle of a protest. It took a little bit of doing and no small amount of miming to convince the police officers and military security that I really am a guest at the hotel. Accompanied as I was, by my highly suspicious backpack, it had to go through the portable x-ray machine and I through the metal detectors to even get into the lobby. Once in the lobby, I was set upon by even more intimidating security personnel. I got the hotel types to vouch for me and once I got to the room, didn’t stick my head out until I knew the Myanmar contingent was gone…from the country.
I’ve been having such a good time with the guys, I hate to leave. I brought a lot of books, games and puzzles with me and the boys have really enjoyed them. Special thanks to Anne Hellman, who sent me a ton of prepublication kids books and blads from her sales kits. They were a big hit. I’ll try to post some pictures here.




The card project is in full swing and we’re working like mad to get the cards I need to take home completed.

Checkpoint Fever or, You Don't Look Tamil...

Pardon me while I vent...Apparently, there are suicide bombers of the Tamil persuasion still at large in and around Colombo. As a result, there are military checkpoints everywhere. Lino and I got stopped at one that was literally within sight of the last one! I’ve now set a new personal best yesterday when I was stopped at no fewer than seven checkpoints on my way to drop my laundry at the fluff and fold in Borella. I have clearly never seriously considered the volatility of my dirty laundry until now. You see, it was jammed into my backpack on the seat next to me in the tuk-tuk and as such, looked highly suspicious. The military guys at the checkpoints are very emboldened when I’m out alone. (why not, they’re the ones with the automatic weapons, all I can do is pelt them with dirty socks) I was close to the breaking point toward the end of the day when I was stopped by an Air Force enlisted man. Our conversation went something like this:
He: Where from?
Me: U.S.A.
He: Going?
Me: Wellewatta, Galle Rd & Dharmarama temple
He: You………BigFatGirl! (always said with a big smile)
Me: Yes, But your ugly, stupid and rude and I can diet.
He: Huh?

Case closed. Sometimes when they say something like this, I like to act all surprised. You know, like “Holy crap….I’m fat? I had no idea! Thank you, Oh keen observer of the human condition” Or, “Yes, if you look closely, you’ll see that I’m fat in my passport picture as well, butthead.”

Project Cupcake Teatime

Is it ever good to be back in Colombo! My first two days here were equally divided between catching up on my sleep and fun, games and art workshops at the orphanage. This visit ties up a few very compartmentalized parts of my life. Some time ago, I started working with a terrific organization called Tealightful Treasures back in my home town of Rochester, NY. They are an incredibly successful home party business devoted to something I’ve subscribed to for years: the healing and calming influence of tea in our busy lives. Charlene and Eric Phillips have done much more than start an amazing home based direct sales business. I connected with them through a mutual friend only a few years into their venture and several months after my initial extended trip to Sri Lanka. Even then, with growing pains that would soon force them into a much larger office and warehouse space in Rochester, Charlene approached me about finding a way to help fundraise for the Wellewatte Boy’s Home. Even as a fledgling company, they had set their sights on doing good while doing well. We kicked around a few ideas and after a bit of drifting on my part in my personal and professional life, we revisited the idea.
Hot Tea and Hugs was born! Charlene would custom blend four new (Ceylon based) teas for her consultants to feature and they would be packaged with labels made from the amazing artwork done by the boys.
This project brings me to an additional compartment of my life, the Sri Lanka Card Project. (Right now, this will take you to a blog that’s not quite up to date but will soon be replaced with a full fledged website) You can find them on Facebook by searching:
Christmas Cards - Spend a bit more to help a lot more
On the Facebook site there are a number of current pictures of the last couple of days at the Boy’s Home. Emma Allen is the mad genius behind keeping the card project going. Those of you who read this blog from the beginning will remember when Emma first showed up in Sri Lanka. She and Lino Kao continue to work with the orphanage and have managed to raise a lot of money for the Boy’s Home and several other groups in need.
Emma and Lino ran an art workshop with the boys many months ago with the theme: What I want to be when I grow up. There were so many gorgeous pictures that it was difficult for Charlene to select only four. The drawings in turn inspired the tea blends she created and her husband Eric, a packaging expert, turned the artwork into labels for the tea. As Emma would say, “Brilliant!”
I’ve commissioned some holiday cards for Charlene and Eric and we’re all hard at work on them so I can present them upon my return. I don’t know if I remember how to include pictures on the blog, but I’ll give it the old college try.

You can learn to hate airtravel in less than a day.

As previously noted on Facebook, the flight from JFK to Dubai was spent trying desperately to sleep while seated next to an extremely fidgety teenager. If they make dogs fly in carriers in the cargo hold, why can’t we do the same thing with teenagers? This started out as a sort of rhetorical question in my mind until somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, it occurred to me that the PETA people would never allow the torture of those caged animals in the cargo bay by a bunch of teenagers…drugged or not… the teenagers that is.
Then there is dad. For reasons still unknown to me, he was compelled to explain to his spawn, in its entirety, the minutiae of air travel. In a booming voice…in both English and Farsi. I seriously wanted to throttle this guy but was so sleep deprived my motor control was at an all time low. Even the flight attendants looked on with barely disguised pity. That’s the kind of 12 hour flight that can actually make you look forward to a 7 hour layover in Dubai.
Most of the layover was spent in a sports bar trying to figure out who won the World Series game on Wednesday night. No one knew. Instead, I was treated to hour after hour of cricket, a game I have now formally given up all hope of ever understanding.
The flight to Colombo was much shorter (5 hours) and quieter, even though the obligatory screaming baby was only a few rows ahead of me. I was actually able to stretch out for a couple of quick power naps.
Finally, I’m in Colombo. Well Negombo really, it’s still a 30 minute ride to Colombo proper. So I’m standing in line at immigration thinking, “Oh yeah! I remember this! It’s REALLY hot here!” I immediately broke out in the familiar full body sweat. I like what they’ve done with the place, especially the newish signs that say: “Possession of Illegal Drugs is Punishable by Death.” This from the ministry of “we are so not f%$#ing kidding, have a nice day.”

Heading out to Sri Lanka again...

...but just for a couple of weeks.
I'm embarrassed to admit it took me about an hour to figure out how to log into my blogger account. Yes, it's been that long. Since last I wrote, it's been a very interesting couple of years caring for my mom as she's coping with Alzheimer's. When she was formally diagnosed, she and I agreed that we would deal with it with the utmost candor, humor and honesty. She gets frustrated when she can't remember something, says she "feels stupid". Yo! It's a disease! Cut yourself some slack, wouldja? I must say, we speak to each other in a lot of nonsequiturs and I often tease her that I know what she's thinking before she thinks it. Some of our exchanges remind me of discussions we used to have during my recreational drug use days in the seventies...without the good parts. Paybacks really are a bitch.
So here's the question, does anyone even read blogs anymore? With all the social networking going isn't blogging sort of redundant? Until I fully understand the vagaries of facebook, I'll continue to put stuff here. No, it's not because I just wasted an hour I'll never get back trying to remember my log on and password!