This Amazing Life

I said to myself “Welcome to loonyland” as soon as the plane made a sudden stop. I think the pilot was trying to judge where the walkway or shoot or whatever this metal corridor is called, was going to rest on the plane and he was trying hard to make sure that is was some where at least close to the door, so that we the people would be able to do our morning exercises while trying to jump onto the walkway. Anyway, no such luck he was exact and stopped at the entrance of the walkway. 

I did not have the pleasure of playing rugby while at school ( no, it has nothing to do with how I looked during my school day’s or does it have to do with the fact that I could have won the crown for Ms. Universe if they were only measuring the waist during that period of history), but I am proud to say that I have experienced the game in the form it was introduced in the late 1800 when rules were made according to each and everyone’s wish. There were no referees or linesman just only players and only one aim “push anything until you reach your goal”. 

Yes, I experience this very dangerous game each time I am on a flight from the Middle East to Colombo. The game starts as soon as the plane makes contact with the tarmac, people at the back of the plane jump off their seats (actually, its more like leaping into the air …… I wonder whether there is some high voltage on the tarmac that effects Sri Lankans…?) grab their luggage and buffalo their way to the nearest exit. They try their best to head right to the front of the plane, and would reach their destination if not for the stewards who have been trained to keep an eye on unfriendly sportsman who play this early form of rugby. If by chance you get caught in front of any of them, you will be pinned to the ground or they might just carry you all the way home….. 

After the first wave of players have left the field “D” and I make our way to the doorway and take the first breath of local hulang (air) and feel or how wonderful its to be back, then before we could enjoy the moment, we are pushed or shoved by the next guy who is trying to get to the immigration counter before us so that he could stand in the queue as long as us, but in front of us….Oh, what pleasure!! We amble along to the immigration counter while admiring the new wing of the airport. D says “It looks very much better than before, don’t you agree” and I agree wholeheartedly as it is very much better than before, but………don’t you feel we could have done better?????? Something is missing and I just cannot put my thoughts on it…I am too tired from the flight and just want to get home and take a shower and may be sleep. 

We are still trying to think why the Duty Free area is so small and looks like First Cross street, Pettah  or more precisely like the worldmarket in Fort (which I hope is still there). Why do the salesman of these outlets hang around calling customers to their shops, shouldn’t it be more up class and professional? I like how things are at the Duty Free in Dubai, I do understand we don’t have that volume of business as Dubai Duty Free, but I feel a more professional attitude could be maintained  as this is the First impression a visitor gets about Sri Lanka. The subject of how I feel about the airport could make up another post on another day, so let me leave it at that.  

We pick our luggage which come in 4 different sizes and move to  the counter that say “Nothing to Declare”(Green Line). The officer at the desk is having a hard time with a lady who has about 9 pcs of large luggage and saying she has nothing to declare. He takes our passports looks at my tranquil body language  and at “D”s innocent figure and says “Welcome, to Sri Lanka…. Oh, you are Sri Lankan no…? After how long are you returning? from Middle East?” before I could even open my mouth and show him my un-brushed teeth he hands us our passports and waves us on. We are too tired to answer him and push through the metal/wood doors to the waiting area. Oh, Ya….now we are back home for sure.   

Oh! how good it was to be back home…..yes, back in Sri Lanka. Although we had only been away for 6 months it seems like so long ago. D & I were so excited and stressed out (as usual) when we finally knew that we were travelling back home. We have this thing that we always make a rule not to over purchase gifts for family, friends, relations, neighbors, cab drivers, pets and who ever we could think we will bump into during our short, exhausting and expensive stay (Hmmmm…… actually, what is the right term one should use (my gosh! I sound like Ranjith Fernando)  when you travel to Sri Lanka or where ever one comes from (oh, I must be catching something from too much cricket commentary) to stay in your own home for a short period before you travel back to your place of employment in a foreign country. Is it called a vacation or Holiday ? Isn’t vacation something you take and go away from home? Holiday…..that seems like poya day, or curfew day (not had any lately), polling (or if you prefer poliem as in paan poliem) day, etc.etc…..I am now more confused @#%^$^%  pls. Throw a rope I am in the ditch of confusion). But like all beautiful Lankan’s we LOVE RULES and break them at the first sight of a shop, sale or just for the love of everybody, this is not because we cannot keep rules, but its because we feel what’s the use of going from here to there empty handed, we must have something to show that we came from over there or else the custom officers at the only landing strip for foreign birds will be frowning that we have nothing to show for being over the seas and might strip us bare to check ……and they may not find anything! Now that, we cannot allow at any cost, it would be too shameful to them and we might finally even appear on the not so live at 8. So we go to town as soon as we know that we are going to be in the belly of a big bird that will carry us home. D & I are happy to shop till we drop, ya, that’s right we stop just before we are to drop, in the final few days before we head to the pearl, tear, mango, pear, Rambutan  (yes, very soon it will be like one or the other from the way things are going on, due to sea erosion, tsunami, global warming, economic warming etc.etc ) or what ever comes to mind of an Island. We pack for days and still at the moment we should be at the airport, we still keep packing, because I forgot to put my sock’s in the pile that went in to the 1^st bag that was packed 2 days ago (how could I put my socks in to a bag when I had them on till last night), and yes my laptop is in my briefcase but the charger (yes, the laptop needs new batteries) is still somewhere and I cannot find it……or no, actually it has already been packed by my beloved D (I would have been lost to the wind if I did not find her many moons ago….do not ask me how many moons, that would be insulting). The denim has to be taken (D is getting really mad by now), I live in them when on the island, so please put them in the bag even if it is overweight. Finally, we are ready to go 1 hour late and old faithful Maburuk who will take us to the airport is ready to move.  

We arrive at the airport and all is great the overweight is not too bad and the counter guy only passes a remark “Really are you taking all of this back? No idea to return?” I smile and he is humbled by my little boy face, thank God for the lovely features that I have been gifted with…… (Wow, I hear people getting choked, was that somebody falling off a chair….come on give me some credit?) we get through and are seating in the lounge waiting for that Sri Lankan Bird to take us home. I never knew the real meaning of  “UL”, and we learned the HARD WAY…..yes, it was late as usual, by 2 hours. The funny thing was that nobody at the airport was either bothered to inform the passengers that “UL” is late, most probably as it is usually late. After an extended delay by a further hour we finally move off  mother earth and venture into the unknown, wow, like some adventure……advanture my big toe, although we have being travelling for a while its been along time since we last travelled with the local bird. The last time we travelled she was a red & white peacock and now she is a …..???? in tri colour.

We were so surprised to see what she had to offer under her skin, actually nothing special…. She smelt like “pee” and looked like a child that had not taken a bath for a couple of years. The onboard kitchen was reminding me of the old “Kalu Kussiya” (soot kitchen)  that we had in one of the old type houses we used to live a long while back. We had to keep reminding ourselves that this was our national carrier. The legs that served us was not as curvy as they were when the bird was under the red & white logo but the services was not bad, standard, nothing special either. The food, now that’s another story. Can somebody, please let me know why this lankan bird serves Indian food with no Sri Lankan option? It was like visiting your Mum expecting a total Sri Lankan meal and being served something strange that came from the next door neighbor. (sorry, to anyone who is offended, but this is the actual fact of the birds that are sent to the desert to transport our beloved foreign exchange earners, who the government loves to highlight when ever they think or remember the poor souls who are working in extreme conditions to send back US$ for our fatso’s who make a noise for nothing in the big house on the oya to live comfortably ). Its really a shame that at least the onboard meal is not Sri Lankan. Somebody needs to realize that this is the Sri Lankan national carrier and not the South Asian or SAARC national carrier. We felt it has lost its identity somewhere in-between the national factor and the foreign management factor who might only be viewing the profit factor (may be too many factors to consider).  

The flight was uneventful until the final approach to land which we always enjoy. There is nothing to compare seeing Sri Lanka from above, its really breath taking, the low hanging clouds, the early morning mist playing between the green carpet of paddy fields and coconut estates, the refreshing landscape makes you just wanting to touch down as soon as possible. 

After touch down its another story………. 

It’s been a loooooooong time since I sat to write, and a lot has happened since my last post. Way too much has happened that made me more lazy to write or was there too much to write about that it made me lazy and may be scared to write. It all started on a crazy day in October when my better-half and me had to pack our bags and get on jet plane to head to our wonderful North looking Southward island that we call home. On the way we had to do the stop over thing in that desert wonderland called Dubai where we usually stop for a bite (hot chips, the potato kind, never tasted better than when you have just got off a plane), a stretch of the legs and to checkout what others are buying at the duty-free shops that are never boring or lack of new trends that could make you or even break you (financially).  

It was great and we were happy to be home once again. Rain always has that magical touch, it bring things to life ( yes, I do agree that too much of it is a pain and a mess), but still when you are seeing it after a while it has a magical feeling and gives you goose bumps in the wrong places (like under your fingernails)! I opened my mouth a little too soon and spilled my thoughts out and “Su” our man Friday, almost had a heart attack trying think why on earth I was so happy that it was raining when all of Sri Lanka was almost under water as it had been raining for almost the whole of 2006. He was good enough to keep his thoughts on the subject to himself and only say that “you would not be so happy with this weather after a few days in Colombo”, how right he was, but still I must admit I enjoyed the cool weather although it was a bit of a hassle when I had to drag myself out of the house to go some place or when there was too much thunder & lightening and the electricity would fuse and we had to sit in the dark without the electric gab (TV) working. But Home is Home and rain or sun it’s good to be back in our little corner on this planet .  

But the main reason of our trip was still to be attended too. In the last couple of years I have been coming home more often since I need to visit my doctor more regularly. This time the visit was over due and  I  was  late by a couple of months for my usual biannual medical check-up. We were a bit worried about the out come of my preliminary test as all was not too well the last time I was here. {have you ever noticed that when you feel like something might go wrong it just does happen! Ya, ya, I know about Murphy’s law, but who expects that to happen? believe me, it just does happen and I am feeling guilty that we always expect the bad in every situ. Now (even at this greying age)  I am trying to instil the opposite, thinking only of the positive and making it happen}. I feel like I should congratulate myself and then hoot at some “Gamme Chandiya (village tug)” and get myself thrashed to bits as my preliminary test turned out all screwed up and as bad as could be. My Oncologist (May God Bless him and his team a Zillion times each day!) was very, very concerned and as usual (Point to remember : never expect to hear the worse in medical conditions) requested that I do a bone marrow test.{ Now, for those of you who do not know what a bone marrow test is, I would say that it’s a very, very, VERY PAINFUL procedure where a sample of  marrow is taken from within the bone. As far as I know it is done from the back of your hip and the chest.} I have done two previously at a gov. hospital and it was hell, I just screamed from start to finish as the procedure is done (behind a steel cabinet) with little (felt like it had even been diluted with tap water) local anaesthesia and was like being stabbed with a hand drill from the back. 

Thank GOD! I was relieved to hear that it could be done at a private hospital where they give you a strong anaesthetic that reduces the pain. However, once bitten twice scared, so I was ready to get it done but terrified to bits (this point will be certified by my better-half, God Bless her for all she goes through with me. My mother even would not tolerate this much). I am NOW (as it is over), happy to proclaim that the procedure at the private hospital was very, very, very less painful and more reassuring to me as a patient . The technician who carried out the test was a jewel of a man, he was so reassuring, calm and confident that it made me less tense although past experiences were still hitting me hard at the back of my mind. The procedure was long and lasted for about 45 minutes where he extracted 03 samples to be sure that we could get a good look at what exactly my marrow was doing to me (believe me, I like most people did not give a thought about any marrow in my bones until I was diagnosed with cancer. It’s like you do not think about the hose in your car engine until in breaks down or starts to leak, you just keep going on day after day, mile after mile). 

However, thank GOD the bone marrow samples show minimum disease activity, but as my blood reports do show some activity my Oncologist suggest that  we wait another six months and repeat the same test to see if there are any changes. But until then I am off the HOOK (or needle which is more like it) and have time to live life to the fullest as always.  

Regarding the Rain, oh, it was a pain finally, so many people were effected by it that the saying “too much of anything is good for nothing” came true. Su, won the day as he was so right to tell me that I would not like it after a few days experiencing this wet & messy weather. Now he reminds me that the mosquitoes are attacking and that I should came for a short stay to experience the soothing pain, the piercing hum and the involuntary blood donation while keeping a look out for the chicken called guniya and the rouge called dengue!