Journeying Sri Lanka Episode 1: The long way from Tbilisi
A few nights ago, while settling down in my apartment in Tel Aviv, I found a thick notebook on the corner that seemed to have a familiar cover.
I browsed the notebook and found a day by day account on my two-weeks in staying with a host family and teaching English in Sri Lanka.
I wanted to share it here so I am planning to publish it every time I find the power (and appropriate timing). Hereâs the first installment and I hope youâll follow this series!
Editorâs Note: These articles are raw as they are written in journal form. Everything happened the way the writer experienced Sri Lanka. You might find brutally honest remarks in this post (and the posts to come). If you find it inappropriate, please email trisha[at]psimonmyway[dot]com.Â
11 January 2017 â Colombo | 3:41 AM
I didnât feel the heavy weight of the flight â thanks to my airlineâs business class upgrade. I now arrived Sri Lanka, where I will be spending 5.5 weeks in and hopefully, once again, discover something about myself.
Iâve been told that Sri Lankaâs Immigration is notorious when it comes to two things: (1) return tickets; (2) tattoos. The former, I donât have and the other, well, obviously screaming on my shoulders, arms and legs.
I had my Virtual Assistant (VA) arrange a dummy ticket for me so I guess I am all set. The tattoos? Hmmm, I managed to find a way.
I came from Georgia so I still have my winter stuff on hand. Even if it was 32 degrees outside, I wore a thick jacket to lessen the tattoo view.
Immigration line was short and the only question the officer asked me was âWhere are you staying?â I told him my friendâs family lives in Panipitiya Station Road and I am staying with them for a few days.
âGood area.â He said. He stamped my passport and let me go. That was easy! A Whatsapp announcement was necessary: âIâm in, mot&erf*%ker$!âÂ
I copy/pasted it to all my groups and even if they were all from my different groups of friends, they all said the same thing:Â âYou lucky b*tch.â
4:20 AM
I have a very bad history with lost baggage and when itâs taking a while to show up, I have this fast forward button in my head:Â
âMaâam, we are very sorry for the inconvenience. Please fill out this form and we will send the bag to your address.â
I know the drill. It was very unlikely for this to happen because I flew with a âtopâ airline but since my history with luggages are always the same, I couldnât help but prepare myself mentally.
It has been 30 minutes and I still couldnât see my bag in the conveyer. The âlast bagâ sign didnât come out yet so there is still hope.
After a few minutes, there came my bag, followed by the âlast bagâ sign. Goodness, gracious!
5:11 AM
I pushed my cart towards the âno good to declareâ lane and when the door opened automatically, I was greeted by feckloads of men who were carrying signs in their hands.
None of them were for me as I wanted to arrange my transport myself. But first⌠money.
I have $200 USD in cash and though I havenât had the chance to check the cost of living in Sri Lanka, I am pretty sure I will be able to survive a few days with that amount.
All the money changers are offering the same rate so I chose the window with the shortest line. I handed $100 USD first and he immediately gave me 14,500 rupees (Like India, rupees is the currency in Sri Lanka): I gave no idea how far this money can take me but I remember what my Filipina friend, Pancake said about taxi rates: 3,000 â 4,000 rupees.
Wait, thatâs a lot no? I only have 14,000+ rupees and if I pay the taxi to the city, I will have 10,000 left (yes, doing the math is normally hard for me) but f*ck it. I am really tired and I donât have the energy to take public transport. Taxi it is.
5:42 AM
I sat down in the waiting area outside the airport where feckloads of men bugged me to death: âTaxi?â âTaxi madam?â âTaxi?âÂ
Every time I land, I usually take my time so I lit a cigarette and Googled a possible place for coffee. I like taking my time. I donât have a schedule to follow. Iâm not in a hurry so coffee will be great.
A man approached me and asked, âtaxi madam?â Arrrhhhh when will you guys stop! I donât even know why I repeated it again: âI am taking my time. I am just relaxing and having a cigarette. If you want to wait, be my guest.â
I was hoping heâd say, âokay, smoke in the car!â
Instead, he stood beside me and waited. I kind of lost my patience and said, âokay, letâs go.â Iâll smoke in the car anyway. He took all my stuff and we went to a parking lot where trolleys are forbidden.
When I was new to traveling, I would usually keep my guard up when arriving a country I havenât visited before. I was walking behind this man who said heâs a taxi driver but seriously, he could be anything.
I donât know this country. I never researched prior to arrival. I watched him carry all the important stuff in my life (laptop, camera, drone, etc) and I did the math in my head again â these things are fecking expensive!
Sometimes, I have weird thoughts about people running away with my stuff. My mum said thatâs okay because I still need to be careful 50+ countries after. This time, I didnât have this thought. There was a good energy circling the taxi man.
When we arrived the car, a guy in a white uniform assisted him. He put all my stuff in the trunk. Heâs super thin and way younger than the taxi man so letâs call him taxi boy. He looked super alert. This means taxi man is the boss.
âGood morning, madam.â He greeted. I just smiled as I donât have the mental space to be social.
He went to the driverâs seat after loading my styff. He was careful on doing it so I didnât have to say, âplease be careful. I have my computer in that bag. And my camera. Oh and my drone. And shitloads of hard drives.âÂ
I figured I will just make a buzz if I tell them whatâs in that bag. So, I shut up. I am not sure how I was able to afford all thatâs in there but I promised myself to take care of them for the nextâŚ. 10 years maybe.
âMadam, my name is Lal and this is _______, your driver.â taxi man said.
âYouâre not coming with us?!â I asked.
âI am, madam. But not all the way to Colombo.â
So I concluded. Taxi man is the boss. Even if I was in danger of being ripped off, I gave the go-signal to carry-on without asking how much the fare will be. Fecking stupid, Trisha.
6:23 AM
Lal told me about his taxi business and shamefully plugged all his other businesses hoping Iâd sign up. He has a tour agency, too.
âSave my number,â he said. F*ck, please donât call me and whatsapp me all the time like all the creepy guys being friendly when I am traveling. PLEASE!!!
I pretended to write his number on my phone and while I was at it, he peeked and volunteered to type it himself.
He even called himself through my phone (Viber) so I have nowhere to run to. Another addition to the already exploding contacts that I donât even remember.
We stopped at a coffee place. Without asking me, Lal went down, ordered coffee and a bunch of bread. I knew what was coming. I have to eat.
In about 14 days, I will be on vacation with my super fit surfer boyfriend and I will look like a tadpole whoâs struggling to swim. I gained so much weight in Israel and Georgia because people eat nothing but bread. This is an emergency â I need rice.
We didnât have to go inside the cafe. Everything were served taxi doors open. We looked like one big happy family who was on a road trip, stopping for coffee.
I wasnât hungry because of the very generous meal in my business class flight but knowing my capacity with food, I dug in.
Coffee was horrible and I was shocked to learn that Sri Lanka is a tea country. Okay, no espresso for 5.5 weeks? Not cool.
I had the idea of asking my boyfriend to bring the Nespresso machine at home. I knew he will freak out. I still asked. Just to try if he would.
Lal was interviewing me. He asked me a lot of stuff about traveling and when caught in situations like this, I always change my stories. âIâm a scientist and I am here to do some tests and research about Sri Lankan elephants.â
âMadam, youâre not married?â
âNo.â
âBoyfriend?â
âYes. He is coming tomorrow. I will definitely call you to pick him up.â Truth is, he will come 14 days after me.
That was the perfect way to change the marriage subject. Cockblock, as they say. Like India, I knew there was no way a âboyfriendâ is valid in Sri Lanka because they weigh husbands more here.
Boyfriend is an unknown term thatâs not in the dictionary. I had to say my boyfriend is coming. Though I know I can take care of myself, it made me feel protected. I also observed that the subject about my relationship stopped when I declared my status.
Taxi boy approached us to collect the plates and cups. I almost didnât touch the coffee but he insisted that heâll wait for me to finish. I said he should take it because Iâm done.
Even if he said he can wait, I felt like I was being rushed so I told him, âitâs okay. Iâm full.â I touched my belly with my hands in a circular movement because I wasnât sure if he can speak English.
Sign language is the best way to survive situations like this. He took everything and went inside the cafe. I saw Lal gave him some coins so itâs safe. It means I donât have to pay. Or maybe theyâre going to add it to my taxi bill?
Lal bid us goodbye. He isnât joining the ride to Colombo so itâs just me and taxi boy. âIf anything goes wrong, Viber me.â Huh. Viber me. His exact words were âviber me.â What a cool dude!
I thanked him and said goodbye. I shut the door strong because I was really tired and had no idea how far the drive will be. Just before he was about to leave, I stick my head out of the window and asked, âhow much should I pay?â
â7,000, madam.â What, wait?! I thought itâs just 3,000?!
âNo, you said 4,000.â He didnât say anything but Iâd like to be firm when shit goes down. I wanted to sound right.
âReally madam? Okay, then give the 4,000 to your driver.â
Huh. We win.
7:18
Not even halfway the drive, taxi boy asked me to move in front.
âItâs fine. Iâm okay here.â I said. My mother always told me to sit at the back of the driver as it is the safest part of the car. He didnât insist that I move to the front but he was driving like crazy!
Not just him but the whole city! Colombo traffic is insane. I also hail from a heavy traffic country but ever since I left, I am not used to it anymore.
This traffic is driving me nuts and I donât have the patience for it. Can you imagine people driving fast despite being bumper to bumper? Thatâs Colombo.
I was about to fall asleep at the back when taxi boy asked me, âMadam, how old are you?â
â28.â
â28? Why are you not married?!â
Are we back to this again? No. Please. Donât.
I noticed it is unimaginable for Sri Lankans to meet someone like me â âunmarriedâ, âchildlessâ, âalone.â
From one of my Georgian girl friends, I learned a social experiment called: if-you-cant-beat-them-try-harder. I tried it with him, the reverse psychology: âwhy are you married?â No harm, itâs just a question.
It was probably the first time he heard someone ask him this. He couldnât respond mainly because, in this situation, neither of us were right. He realised he couldnât be the righteous one just because he is married at 25.
And I know very well I canât act like what I am doing in life is the right thing because there are no right or wrong life choices. There are only choices. Who decides whatâs right or wrong anyway?
Through the silent ride, I really believe we both reflected on those choices, and that, we learned something from each other.
TO BE CONTINUEDâŚ
please write a book. please write a book. please write a book. looks like i am spamming but heck please write a book, Trisha! But first, finish this series because you got me hooked! (wow it rhymes)
One day, Stella! I am so sorry I wasn’t able to participate in your project. Please let me know how I can be of help!
You were not asked for a 25usd for the visa in ?? Sri Lanka for a Philippines Passport holder?
I applied for the visa online for $30. I knew I could also do it upon arrival ($5 cheaper) but I didn’t want to fall in line.
Inspring as always, Trisha! Looking forward to the rest of the series.
Ugg. I feel your pain. I just hate it when taxi drivers bombard you with questions about things that are none of their business. I feel like they’re going to be stalking me the whole time I’m there. I love the scientist line, though. I’ll have to remember it for my next solo taxi ride!
Wow, love the story telling and rawness of this post. Absolutely inspiring, and I can’t wait to read the rest of this series
Not everyday that I come across this format. This is a great way to recall travel memories. Its like being beside you during your trip to Sri Lanka. Hope to see more of this from you.
Your storytelling is so natural, you write as you speak/think, which makes it so real… I can feel the ‘single female traveller’ in an unfamiliar culture.
It’s a pretty interesting concept, that’s for sure. It’s also very abstract in a way cause of the way its written…Since I’m a visual type of video person I can literally picture everything your writing as a scene from a film. Like the part about thee smoking in the taxi cab…
Forget a book, make a short film…lol
Episode 2, please!!!
Gosh this is so good! ⤠I relate much on this story. Whenever people starting asking me weird questions and abt my personal life wherever i go.. Lol Funny.. Nice once Trish am looking forward for more episodes! Thank u for sending this btw. And please write a book! Hahaha God bless and i love u! Xxxo
Thanks for finally writing about >Journeying Sri Lanka Episode 1:
The long way from Tbilisi <Loved it!