AI YO!

     A couple of weeks ago I got a text from my priest friend Patrick telling me that Fr. Peter had had a heart attack and died the night before.  I met Fr. Peter only 2 times, as a matter of fact, I wrote about the night I met him on one of my blogs from here, I'm sure.  I had dinner with him, Patrick and another priest in their headquarters in Colombo.  There is so much I don't remember in my life, so many meetings and dinners but this one has stayed with me because it was so unique to be with priests and to laugh more than I had in a long time. Mainly responsible for the laughter was Fr. Peter. He was short and stocky, intelligent, educated, sarcastic, irreverent and very funny.  Our humor matched so well and we bantered thru the whole dinner.  Honestly I think I fell a little in love with him that eve.  The next day, out of kindness, he came to the VSO office with the train tickets I had been unable to obtain.  Those were my only encounters with him in person but he is not someone I shall forget.
     So I have had a Sari blouse made for the Sari I never intended to wear.  I was now going to wear it for the opening of our new hospital wing which was supposed to be tomorrow, monday; I would take a picture, all would see.  Alas, that event has been postponed and I shall miss it. In any case, it's so typical of here.  The hospital director told us not 2 weeks ago that the opening was scheduled for Feb. 7.  That was the last any of us heard about it.  I finally texted the Director on Friday who sent me back a text on Saturday saying sorry, it has been rescheduled for the 21st! So I have my blouse but what was funny was trying it on with the nurses after I got it.  I picked it up and was then on the ward and several nurses said they wanted to see it on.  I took off my shirt and they all started giggling and laughing.  This year has been a real learning in trying not to be paranoid, not to take things personally and not assume things even have to do with me.  Between the language, the culture, basically usually not knowing what's going on, any of the above is easy to happen if I don't watch it.  I assumed they were laughing at my bra which looks very different from the ones they sell here.  In between laughing and tugging at the blouse and hooking it, everyone checked the blouse out which is very pretty and has tight sleeves but at least they are 3/4 length.  They approved.  Finally they told me that they started laughing when they saw the bottom part of my back because it is so white!  I am a "white" after all even though most of me has a tan.p
     Over the time I have been here, 14 months now, I have had various reactions to the lack of enthusiasm of several friends to the idea of Skyping.  I have found it a miracle for me.  It has made it possible to feel my connection especially to my family and to feel less isolated then I actually am.  I have asked, begged, pleaded, gotten annoyed, puzzled over, became resigned, gave up talking about it with several friends in my life.  I, after all, am the one away, in a strange place, without friends and family.  Accommodation should be made!  Honestly I just figured, out of sight out of mind, that is what is happening for people.  Actually, that may be true for some and really it's OK.  I am no different.  I didn't consider though that Skyping could cause pain to others, that it might be too difficult, cause sadness or other less then positive reactions..it's complicated and I was selfish, human.  It does feel good to know that my presence is missed by some and that I shan't come home to a friendless existence!
     My major companion is my cat, Baby.  She is adorable and is now bringing home birds and rats to play with!  We also now have the company of the cat who I met almost as soon as I moved in, when I thought there was a strange animal in the house and it was this cat from across the lane.  She has now taken to coming in several times a day.  The other day I wasn't paying attention and put a can with some tuna down for Baby who had just come in..you guessed it, when I actually looked, it was the other cat.  Oh Baby has a new trick, she has found a way to get to a shelf that is almost at the ceiling, it is used for storage.  Her favorite new trick is to hide out there and about 11:30pm, when I am asleep of course, she jumps, landing on all 4 paws, with a thud next to me in bed.
     I feel my work here has been successful. I am happy and feel things will carry on.  There is new stuff coming up but the staff know what to do.  The other day, as part of the Friday training program, the staff and patients put on a musical extravaganza and several little plays.  It was so wonderful, and all the patients and all the staff participated even just by being present and watching.  I had nothing to do with it's planning, it was a nurse and the OT.  I am redundant, yeah!
     I have finally persuaded the female nurses to teach me some dirty Sinhala words.  They are very shy, laugh, leave the room but I now have 3 in my repertoire.  I decided to teach them something too. There is an expression here, ai yo!  It means, oh no or uh oh trouble or something like that.  I use it all the time and then I realized, it has the same meaning as oy vey!  These people didn't know what a Jew was when I arrived.  The staff are now saying oy vey! when appropriate and I keep saying ai yo!
     
     
     

I am laughing..

     I must say, I think I am a pretty gutsy person in some ways.  Today, not only did I ride on the back of a motorcycle with social worker and pal Nilantha, I had to balance a 2 ft. by 3 ft. white board between us as he manuvered the very messy, holey, wet roads of Badulla with me and the board behind him.  The wind was pulling the board toward his head (yes of course we were both in helmets), I was holding the top of the board with one hand, my purse plastered accross my chest but slipping over the side, another heavy bag over my other shoulder,and holding on the the back of my seat with the other hand.  I was laughing when we finished our ride to the hospital, so wishing you could all see me!  I swear I am feeling younger by the day, I may come home in a crib..I think that was a movie..hmm.    A few days ago, after being asked by one of the bigshot doctors in the system, why I didn't ever wear a Sari to special occasions  and basically suggesting again that I do, I remembered that when I was in Batticaloa, I had bought a cotton Sari to bring home and use for I don't know what.  So today, after getting the white board to the ward, one of the nurses dressed me in the Sari.  It is the first time I ever even had one on and I must say, it felt special.  So I don't know what occasion may come up that I can wear it to other then my last day here, but my friend Laxmi and I shall go looking for material for the blouse which must accompany it.  Of course I have already said it has to have 3/4 sleeves and be longer in the midriff than most women wear it but it's OK, they believe me to be a bit crazy anyway.  Even Nilantha was involved in deciding what color the blouse should be.  I kept saying why can't I wear a black jersey I have and he kept saying, no, it isn't suitable.  Sometimes I can't buck the system.
     Last week and this, I have been involved in the full cycle of a Buddhist death and the rituals and ceremonies that accompany it.  In some ways, many ways it is all similar to JudoChristian traditions post death.  The major difference is that people start coming to the house the day the person dies and lunch, a huge meal of rice and curry is provided by the family from that time until the moment they leave for the cemetary.  Neighbors do bring in some food but mostly the family and extended family provide it.  There is no time when people are encouraged not to be at the home.  In the west we usually have hours of visiting, giving the family private time to eat and be quiet.  This is a group society and pleasing the visitors is what is important.  The other thing is that everything here is still done in the house, probably because funeral parlors don't yet exist here, too costly.  So in the hour before leaving for the cemetary, 6 Buddhist monks came to the house and  talked while the family sat on the floor doing rituals.  The family stays home for a week total following the death and on the 7th day, the family, friends, relatives give alms (dana) to  12 priests (monks) in the form of lunch, candys, fruits, things they need like new robes and begging bowls, soap etc. This is all presented to the monks in chairs  covered in white clothe with low tables covered in white in front of them.  Again, there is a praying ritual with monks talking and the family doing rituals.  Then they serve lunch to an invited group which included all the staff of our psych. unit.  This is similar to Jews sending money for a charity when someone dies.  The staff collected money to present to the family because the costs are great to provide all the cooking, meals etc. to so many guests.  It is believed that doing all of this is giving points in a way to the person who has died and trying to reach Nirvana in some lifetime.
     I know most of you reading this are suffering with huge snow storms or other incliment weather but I just have to complain a little about the huge shift in the weather here in the hill country of Sri Lanka..it's friggin' freezing here right now and hardly ever stops raining.  I am sitting writing to you with 3 layers of clothing, including a polartec, a shawl over that, a wool scarf around my neck and wool socks on my feet.  All of these items I brought and never wore before now.  It feels like a cold, rainy raw day in late fall in NYC..ugh.  OK, OK...

65 going on 13

     Where to begin.  I have been gone for weeks.  The trip was sort of in 3 parts.  Colombo was fine, meetings, lot's of shopping, haircut, life stuff.  I had a full week of silent meditation at a retreat with Dhammaruwan and Stephen Smith who came from Hawaii to teach.  That was a treat with only 7 yogis there, we got lot's of attention.  I am unclear as to why I still do this since I have no sitting practice to speak of.  In between retreats I don't sit and honestly, I doubt if I shall now.  I love my NYC once a week Sangha.  I strongly believe in the philosophy of Buddhism, I try to live by the principles of the Buddha, but I'm too lazy and undisaplined for a daily practice..also, retreats are hard, near the end I started to be attacked in my mind by old, old bad feelings about myself and it took many hours for those feelings to change. This is called Yogi Mind.  It put me off kilter a bit too and I think it carried over to feeling more vulnerable after I left the retreat..or maybe that's an excuse.  The third part of the trip was a Christmas trip to Galle (where I went last Christmas) with 3 other volunteers.  Mostly it was great, shopping, beaching, eating.  Winston Churchill once said that the USA and GB were "2 great nations divided by language!"  Boy is that true.  The 3 other people are from the UK (1 from England and 2 from Scotland).  Between the words I didn't understand, the timber of the voice and the expressions I had no idea about, I think I drove them crazy saying "what, what, what does that mean, what..."  They didn't get me either sometimes.  On one occasion I said I didn't mind, meaning I was so happy to be there and was OK with anything and they thought I was being disagreeable and grumpy or sad.  The cultural differences where astounding to me and I have a feeling I said the same thing last year when I traveled with the Brits.  You know these three women are in their 30s and I am 65 (still think I gained 10 years accidentally) but sometimes I felt like I was much younger then them in a neurotic sense, like 13 yo, when I was pretty miserable person. Everybody in a group has their own stuff to deal with but I was surprised at mine now.  I did manage to shop way too much and spend more money then I have spent all year!  That was tremendous fun too, sharing the excitement of stuff with others who were way too encouraging!
      In any case, I really wanted to get back to Badulla, to home as I think of it now, before Friday Dec. 31 to be present for the next Friday presentation at work.  I really missed my home, my life here, my people here.  I guess wherever you make home, it is home.  I kept having waves of love for the staff here.  They knew it was hard for me to get the program I had been attempting to do for a year going and then leave for 3 weeks.  I kept getting text messages catching me up with how it went each week and thanking me for it's existence.  I guess I am being immodest but I felt so warm and fuzzy knowing these people cared about my feelings, knew me enough to text updates.  I am so lucky because they are such good people and I shall miss them when I leave, a lot.  Actually, getting back to Badulla was so lovely because people here on the street and in shops are people I know superficially; but they are genuinely warm and welcoming. 
So it is a new year and someone sent me this Buddha story I want to share since each day starts affresh, this is how I hope life goes from now on:

Once Buddha was travelling with a few of his followers. While they were passing a lake, Buddha told one of his disciples, "I am thirsty. Do get me some water from the lake."

The disciple walked up to the lake. At that moment, a bullock cart started crossing through the lake. As a result, the water became very muddy and turbid. The disciple thought, "How can I give this muddy water to Buddha to drink?"

So he came back and told Buddha, "The water in there is very muddy. I don't think it is fit to drink."

After about half an hour, again Buddha asked the same disciple to go back to the lake.

The disciple went back, and found that the water was still muddy. He returned and informed Buddha about the same.

After sometime, again Buddha asked the same disciple to go back.

This time, the disciple found the mud had settled down, and the water was clean and clear. So he collected some water in a pot and brought it to Buddha.

Buddha looked at the water, and then he looked up at the disciple and said," See what you did to make the water clean. You let it be, and the mud settled down on its own -- and you have clear water.

Your mind is like that too ! When it is disturbed, just let it be. Give it a little time. It will settle down on its own. You don't have to put in any effort to calm it down. It will happen. It is effortless."

Having 'Peace of Mind' is not a strenuous job; it is an effortless process!

  

Hard decisions

     November 19th began the hardest time I have had here.  My sister Roberta called me.  It was late afternoon here but early morning in Boston.  She told me that my cousin and friend, Stephen had had a massive heart attack and died on the spot in his gym the evening before.  This is a guy I really loved and his wife is one of my best friends.  The agony of not being able to make it to the funeral and the decision to stay put for now was so difficult.  To not be there for Lyn, to not be there for my 92 year old aunt, to not be there for my sisters was a foreign concept.  We have a very loyal family bond.  A friend here suggested I write something about him and I did.  
     This loss and Thanksgiving have brought up to me how much culture has to do with who we are.  I am so American and miss my connections with Americans.  Having a shared understanding is so much greater thayn language.  I may complain about America and I am very upset with the way things are going there, but I can say that.  Here you can't really say that, it is not OK to be too critical.  I can also see what a difference it makes to have separation of church and state which does not exist here either.
     A funny story though about culture and language, nothing I haven't said before but I just have to laugh now rather then getting annoyed or puzzled.  I got in a trishaw (or tuktuk or 3 wheeler..all the same), and told the man where I was going.  He spoke very good english. He said: "We are on Ward Place, Cotta Road is the same".  I said: "yes, exactly, just continue onto Cotta Road and we shall come to it".  Of course when we came to Cotta Road which veered to the left, he started to veer to the right!  I said: "no, no, left" and he said: "Oh, Cotta Road?"
     I am feeling so much happier then I was for a few months.  Once again I see how much it isn't the place, the people, the circumstances, it's my mind that makes life good or bad, happy or sad, fulfilling or empty.  I felt that I couldn't tolerate staying; I was depressed.  I feel like I was having a giant, resistant to change, temper tantrum against myself.   Now I don't want to leave without doing what I hoped I would.  Now after spending some time in the early mornings thinking about what I wanted to accomplish, what would be acceptable, how to get things done without doing things I really didn't want to and being OK with that, who would help, how to make it a capacity building experience and sustainable..after figuring that out as best I could, I feel good.  I am a bit anxious and wake up with lists in my head of things to do each day.  I don't mean to imply that I am not worried about it all not happening, especially when I am not around for 3 weeks at a time over the next few months to nudge people.  I am very worried.  That probably means I am too invested in what I accomplish.  It is proof of how much me is involved.  However, it gives me more to work on in myself! By the way, I do check with people if I am being a nudge, if I am annoying, if they want me to stop asking for their involvement.  I keep being told that no, they like it, it's OK, it shows I care for them..that is a nice thing about being in this culture.  They GROK me!
     Speaking of groking me.  In the last few weeks I decided to first reread Pride and Prejudice which I loved, and miss, now that it is over.  The other book I decided to reread from my pot smoking, war protesting, sex filled days (LOL, don't I wish), was Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein.  This book was the bible of the 60s.  Well so far I recognize not a word in my memory.  Although I find the book dated, like the terms used to describe women, calling women girls, descriptions of things; the issues are contemporary and as old as creation.  Crooked politicians, religious hate mongers and the whole issue of how many sides there can be to the same issue like cannibalism for example.  We may think it is terrible but a Martian sees it as a beautiful ritual..it's about the difference between a closed and an open mind and heart too.  I think since the beginning of time, little has really improved in terms of attitudes towards others!  War continues, hate continues, slavery continues, greed continues on and on.  Fortunately love and gratitude and generosity also continues. 
     One last note, I was thrilled and surprised at being on the list of the 50 best volunteer blogs around the world. I must say I am very proud of myself and appreciate how many people took a moment to send me congratulations.  kisses to all

If I believed...

     I have decided that Arugam Bay is, so far, my favorite place in Sri Lanka.  The first day I arrived, I took a long walk on the beach and on the way back, the sun was starting to set.  If I believed in God, (not sure), I would be convinced that I had witnessed the gates of heaven opening.  I have never seen anything as magnificent as the sun rays going up toward the sky and the clouds outlined in gold.  The picture does it no justice but of course I didn't have my camera with me!d so my friend took the picture but a moment late.  The sunrises were almost equal.  (All the pictures are on Facebook and Snapfish if anyone wants to see them.)  
     I am quite fortunate with my work these days, not because I am doing so much but because I don't seem to have the hassles so many other volunteers here and in other countries have with bosses and coworkers.  I had a long talk with our Psychiatrist the other day, sharing ideas about changes that I think would be helpful, showing him our mandate for mental health in this country and talking about utilizing staff in new ways.  I told him I had been putting this conversation off because in ward rounds he was so busy.  He said I can always interrupt him, he wants to hear me and he thanked me for constantly reminding him to refer patients for counseling, that there is more then medication, that all patients don't need it; you know bringing those things up could get me in trouble with other staffs.  Yes, I am fortunate. Actually he is now committed to referring every patient who tries "deliberate self harming" for counseling. The biggest problem is of course there are no psychologists in this country and very few trained counselors so it is an afterthought to refer.  Fortunately there is one counselor from Women In Need who can see our referrals. Last week we had a meeting with my big boss, the Provincial Director of Health Services.  She is a very dynamic and powerful woman. I totally respect and admire her, but, I kept harping on our need for transportation for community mental health work.  That is the direction they want, that is partly what this big meeting was about.  She got quite annoyed with me.  After the meeting I asked her if she wanted me to fly home!  I do not worry about these things.  I keep my mouth shut a lot and find other means to get things done but ultimately if I need to say something I do.  What can happen, I am asked to leave? so
     Last blog I mentioned about diapers (nappies) not being used.  Now I have discovered that children sleep in the same room sometimes in the same bed with their parents until 10 to 12 years old.  When they are moved into another room, siblings even girls and boys, share a bedroom.  People think it is terrible to have to sleep alone (actually I do too but for very different reasons!) Anyway, I of course asked how they manage to have sex, if the kids hear them..no one would discuss it that day, quite a lot of giggling and laughing about it.  It's really hilarious to me that in the States people would more easily have a sex discussion then a discussion about money; here it is the opposite, people tell me everything about their money, earnings, loans.
     Finally I need to share with everyone my latest unfortunate discovery..Baby is a whore!  A few days ago she didn't come home all evening.  When I went to bed, she still wasn't home.  All night I kept waking up and going to the door to call her and look for her..6:30 in the morning she came sauntering in, looked very satisfied, went to my bed and went to sleep!!

good and bad

Baby (my kitten) had her tubes tied on Wednesday.  On Saturday I opened the door and she is now free to come and go as she chooses.  So far, she is not leaving the property but we'll see.  i actually felt bad that I was never letting her have any babies but the internet says sterilizing female cats keeps them from getting breast cancer so as with everything else in life, I can choose to feel bad for her or good for her!  Same with myself; I can feel bad about old, neurotic things or interactions with people who are not as nice as they should be or I can feel good knowing that I am here doing what I am and let myself be.
  I must say, I felt bad not being able to be at the Jon Stewart rally yesterday but I did watch it on the internet which was good except that it stopped and started so much, I missed a lot which was bad. What am I talking about..I don't know. Work feels sort of stuck and I am talking to the powers that be at VSO about maybe just adding a little by going to other places if they need on occasion. Additionally, I am trying to make sure that even if I do little here in terms of helping the Mental Health system, I get to see the country I am living in.  I have now been to the East coast 2 times, once to the beach in Trincomalee and once to Arugam Bay.  This weekend I am going to Batticoloa also to a beach and to visit another volunteer who lives there.  Until very recently, since I have been here, we were not allowed to travel to the East  because of the war.  The restriction to Batti was on when I arrived.  I feel fortunate that I can now go. We are still not allowed to travel to the North, Jaffna, I think because they don't want us to see the DPC (displaced persons camps) that still exist.  the government is actually making it hard on all the NGOs including us to get our residency Visas; so now, VSO has to apply every 2 months for each of us, it is a full time job just doing that for 26 people all here at different times.  Anyway,  I have loved the East coast.  The beaches are lovely of course and I will have managed to see all three before it is out of season; but more, the most wonderful people live in the East, mostly Muslims or Tamils.  Pretty much everyone in those communities speak english and are so friendly and helpful.  All of Sri Lanka is like that but it is more so there.  What really saves this place for me is the people.  Sri Lankans are sweet, kind people.  That is good.  What is bad as I've said before is the lack of counseling available.  People just don't talk about problems here.  They literally smile as they tell you something awful.  They commit suicide as I've said.  It is better to die than to let someone think you are angry with them. Even worse would be to yell at someone who is making you angry.  There is no processing of feelings.  What is good (I am back to this..) is that people in the know are starting to talk about the problems more and even want to have community workers go into the villages and identify issues..it will change over time but this is a country where a 17 year old girl will take poison if her parents say she can't see a boy rather than arguing or discussing even.  The other day, an 18 yo took an overdose of the equivalent of aspirin because she thought her parents didn't like her boy, 2 years ago when they really didn't like a boy she also took an overdose; this time, fearing her daughter was dead, the mother swallowed poison.  The mother is only 34years old.  When it is determined that it was "just impulsive" like the mom, no hospitalization in psych.  The daughter was admitted.  In Sri Lanka if you go out with someone, a boy and girl date, it is called a love affair.  They are having a love affair, they are having an affair..sex is not included or expected or approved of.  It is about dating only.  The sexual attacks on girls by boys in schools however,  is going up.  I think it is because boys are seeing sex.  Although few have computers, fewer still the internet, there are places you can go to get access to the internet and boys, using it much more, are getting much more exposure to sex let alone pornography.  All this is going to have to be dealt with here, as I have said, for good and bad Sri Lankans live like in the '50s but the world is creeping in with all the advances and all the horrors .  
Can you imagine this:  One day I went to visit one of our doctors and his wife who is also a doctor.  Their baby is about 3 months.  I noticed the baby was not in a diaper, just some little panties.  I asked about it and was told that except for at the very beginning, they don't use nappies!  After 2 or 3 months the baby is put on the bed every morning at the same time and has a BM on a towel or something.  Peeing happens whenever.  I said but you get all wet, she said diapers give terrible rashes to babies, we can change the baby and our clothes.  Why would we want our babies to have to suffer!  Isn't that amazing and wonderful.  I wonder if it will change, I hope not.  
Oy, I just had to go and rescue Baby from under a roof where she went when the monsoon came before!  She is not good!!!! Why didn't she come home when I called her before the rains!! children

Snorkeling inside and out!

     To get to Trincomalee took 2 buses, first, 4 hours to Kandy and then 5 hours to Trinco. That cost a total of $3.50 which is why there is no money to fix or buy new buses but also allows SLs to travel a lot. In many families, even among the doctors, the home base is one town but work is another.  It can take 7 to 9 hours to get home periodically and this is the usual way people live.   Nilaveli Beach was my first destination and was lovely. It is supposed to be the nicest beach in Sri Lanka and has been unreachable for years both because of the Tsunami but more so because of the 30 year war between the Singhala people and the Tamils who mostly live in the north and east of the country.  It is a wide beach but not georgeous like the Carribean or Hawaii. The place I stayed was so friendly, really expensive for here $67.50 a night with hot water, AC (both an unexpected plus ), breakfast and dinner.  The boat to get to Pigeon island to snorkel, $13.50.
     I snorkeled for hours (my painful, peeling back can testify). Great coral considering the Tsunami that wiped out so much of this beach not long ago and day trippers who walk all over it.  Not that many fish but good variety.  Always when I snorkel, I feel like I am floating and thin and non existent to the fish.  I am an unseen visitor.  That's how I felt being there and at the resort, non existent.  There was a point where it started to feel dangerous and difficult to go further while I was snorkeling so I turned back. I realized no one would know for hours if something happened to me.  The boat man would eventually come looking and that got me started  thinking about my life, how frequently I feel invisible.  I am not saying this with judgement or poor me, I think I'm stating a fact.  People don't notice people in general, especially if you are sort of ordinary, not flashy, quiet.  For years in NYC I'd see the same people daily and they never noticed me.  As a person alone here or NYC, no one knows where I am most of the time, either place it would be days before it was noticed.  People marvel at what I do by myself and feel I am brave.  Maybe I am but I think what are my options, do nothing because I am alone?  No one to come snorkeling with so don't do it; this activity I have loved since I first did it in 1967 with my friend Dorothy in St. John, Virgin Islands?    That doesn't make sense or feel good.  Some people always find and have mates, friends, lovers; some don't. Life is about living it, as it is, as it unfolds and with as much courage as one can muster. I have learned though, that I don't want to be totally invisible.  I want to live somewhere were people notice if I am home or not, where I am not invisible to the community.  I want a partner, lover, a mate. I can't manufacture one but I can decide where I want to live... SO I had all these thoughts while snorkeling and of course then realized I was missing what I  loved by not being present in the moment! 
      When I came out of the water, a bunch of muslim people had arrived on the little beach of Pigeon Island where the snorkeling was.  3 women where totally in black, standing in the water a little.  2 had their faces covered except for their eyes (in Badulla there is one woman who wears a black veil over her face, black gloves and black shoes and socks).  Anyway, by the time I left, the 3 women were up to their necks in the water but veils stayed in place!  Love and respect for G-d is what I've been told.  BTW, if I haven't said before, the muslims here generally are more educated, speak beautiful english and are very sweet and gracious to me.  Part of the joy I get daily is walking on this little side lane on which mostly muslims live.  Everyone greets me and the children, speaking in english love to chat.  You can't judge a book by it's cover! Anyway, I keep digressing.  The rest of my stay in Trinco was such a treat, there is another volunteer here named Asela, she is Philippina and we had a couple of terrific days seeing the sites of this lovely town.  We even got all wet at the hot springs visited by the locals who see the springs as a holy site. (pictures on facebook).
     On a totally separate note, I have lost one of each of my favorite earings.  I have owned these earings for 25 to 35years and never lost one.  What is that about?