The year in questions

If I were to describe my time in Sri Lanka to you in question form, it would go something like this:

Kaewada? (Did you eat?)

Which country?

Where you going?

Sri Lanka is good, no?

What about your lunch?
You married?

WHY??!!!!!!!

I cannot tell you how many times I am asked these same questions in a typical day. Of course if varies from one day to the next. But to give you some idea, let's just say it is more than I can count on my fingers (and toes), but less times than the number of rotations my ceiling fan makes in any given hour. On average, doing some very quick sums in my head here, I make that somewhere in the region of.......a LOT of times. 

Depending on who is asking and how I am feeling, my response can vary from silence to something a little more informative. And of course, the answers change depending on the time of day and from one encounter to the next. Typically though, my side of the conversation might go something like this:

Ow, Kaewa (yes, I ate)
England
That way *whilst pointing in the opposite direction to the one I'm moving in*
Ow, hari hari hondai, hari lassanaiy (yes, very very good, very beautiful)
There's an egg rice packet with my name on it at the canteen, and I'm on my way there now
Bandala nair (not married)
Dannair (don't know) *looking puzzled, shrugging shoulders*

Regarding the "why", I do at times respond with a genuine attempt to explain just how different things are where I come from.

"Not everyone gets married. The cultural norms and expectations are not the same. You see, it's not that unusual to be 37 and unmarried in the UK, honestly. No, I am not considered to be a total freak back home. Well, not much anyway!"

This is usually met with what appears to be a brief moment of silent contemplation and serious reflection....followed swiftly by some high pitched and hysterical plotting to find me a Sri Lankan husband.

And so, at other times I mix it up a bit; I invent myself a husband in an attempt to dodge that pesky sri lankan "why" and the conspiratorial wedding planners.  Of course, this leads to more questions, but they are questions for which I am prepared with an endless variety of responses.

"He's a doctor/space scientist/dog psychologist/vampire and we have 2/4/6/8 children/bat pups."

By far the simplest thing, however, is simply to let people know that of course I fully intend to get married. It's just that I will to look later, when I get back to the UK. I explain that, unfortunately, things so far have not really gone my way, and then I place the blame squarely and unashamedly at my parents door.

"They just didn't put the effort in. Once my sister was married off, they lost interest. Mind you, I suppose the inauspicious astrological alignment at the time of my birth didn't help matters...""

Sorry folks, it's just easier this way! And at least you can blame the stars.

Superhero flip flops

My Superhero flip flops

My name is Beth and I have a flip flop addiction. I am utterly dependent and really can't get enough. I have gathered quite a collection since my arrival in Sri Lanka. But it seems that however many pairs I acquire, the itch just wont go away. Every time I find myself skulking shame-faced in the flop flip aisle of a local store, I tell myself that just one more pair will be enough; once this particular transaction is complete, I will be thoroughly content. The problem is that true satisfaction seems to allude me; with the purchase of another pair comes a new yearning for more additions to the collection.

Let me explain that every other item of clothing I own doesn't quite feel fit for purpose. This is not for want of trying! I have purchased the best part of two entire (fairly unattractive) wardrobes since my arrival in Sri Lanka. And most of them meet the three essential characteristics that must be achieved to give yourself a fighting chance of not looking like a complete hot sweaty mess. 1  - 100% cotton, to increase the airflow 2 - Tunic style, for extra coverage & 3 - Patterned, to disguise the inescapable sweating. But regardless, I am not happy. Whatever I choose to clothe my body in first thing in the morning, within minutes of leaving the house, I am uncomfortable, irritable and sweaty. These days (much the same as any other days in the life of me) clothes are simply not my friends!

But the flip flop.....oh, the wonderfully functional and uncomplicated flip flop. How I love the flip flop. And surely I can't be alone in this passion of mine, for the beautiful simplicity of the humble flip flop is a truly joyous thing.

Now for the big news. I have recently found myself a pair of extraordinary flip flops. It's still too early to tell for sure, but maybe, just maybe, this will signal the end to my insatiable craving for more. The moment I spotted them in the shop, I was sold. But it wasn't until I actually slipped them on that I realised just how special they are...that I understood that they are, in actual fact, superhero flip flops.

These flip flops don't just look like the kind of footwear a superhero might wear (they're the same colour as Wonder Woman's fancy boots after all!), but more importantly (and this is their special power) the wearing of them is enough to make me FEEL like a superhero. When I don the flops, I am inexplicably 2 inches taller, utterly invincible and totally immune to all harm. And believe me, in a country where I have proven myself capable of more accident prone buffoonery than Laurel and Hardy, this is no mean feet (cue cymbal, Ba-dum-TSH! Sorry, couldn't resist!).

And so, at least 3 or 4 times a week, I arrive home at the end of a long sweaty day to dump my work bag, grab my ipod, exchange my birkenstocks for the superflops and head out the door to my local pool, a 15 minute walk away. It is during this walk that they truly come into their own. And their heroic work is not done in silence. Nope, they have a soundtrack all of their own. There are a couple of key tunes on this soundtrack, brought to me courtesy of two compilation making friends (thanks ladies!). If you want to get a real insight into the nature of these superflops, you can turn this into an interactive experience by clicking here and starting track number one. If you did just click, try to remain focused. I know it's easy to get distracted by cats playing musical instruments, but there is an alternative video in my world.

The opening seconds are indeed the sound me putting on the supercharged hero-flops....and from here, as the tune continues, the walk begins. I weave my way around the cracked crazy paving and plough, elbows at the ready, through the hectic throng of people at the bus stand. The tune drowns out the rude honking of the buses and accompanies each perfectly timed hop skip and jump as I skilfully dodge the many unexpected hazards in my path; it keeps pace with my feet as I stride confidently across a busy main road, impervious to the speeding trishaws, intrusive stares and crazy heckles.

But the magic of the superflops is at it's greatest (at 2 mins 17secs) as my right foot hovers dangerously over a pile of something freshly steaming and stinking, generously deposited just moments earlier by a local stray dog. Without the superflops, I am in big trouble. But, with them, nothing can touch me. As time pauses momentarily, and the world around me ceases to spin...my whole body is lifted involuntarily up into the air and scooted a couple of paces forward out of harms way, until........BAM, time restarts and, as if nothing extraordinary just happened, my flip flopped feet land securely back on sri lankan soil to continue their journey, without mishap, all the way to the pool.

On the way home, after a refreshing and invigorating swim, the soundtrack is different, cue music, but the magic is the same. I I I I... I'm so tired, but I just wont lose my stride! Come on superflops, don't fail me now! I got to walk on.....