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Volunteering in Sri Lanka - Weekend and 4th Week

Wed, 2 Sep 2009 22:11:36 -0800

English Readers:

Saturday (8th of August)

- We caught a bus to Kogalla, a small coastal village about 15 km from Galle. The bus left us a few meters behind the gates to the Free Trade Zone, an industrial setting where many foreign companies manufacture. The principle is simple and effective: by providing a tax free zone, the government gathers the ideal conditions for foreign companies to invest, and therefore create more jobs and sustainability. Companies like Puma, Benetton, or Hugo Boss are already working on the free trade zones.

- The village itself is almost inexistent, although there are a fair number of attractions. There is a prestigious museum dedicated to the History of Buddhism; a Spice Garden, with many trees and plants that provide the raw elements from which most of the spices and herbs are made; a big lagoon where, in a small rowing catamaran, one can visit several islands (one of them with a buddhist temple); and stilt fishermen. Apart from this, there are only a couple of hotels and a fairly small stretch of beach.

- To be able to see all this, we called for a tuk-tuk. The driver, named Aja, took us to all these places for almost nothing, and waited patiently while we explored every attraction. I was interested to know about the effects of the Tsunami in this part of the coast, and I was surprised to know that Kogalla was completely flattened out by the raging waters. No buildings or houses remained intact. Aja was driving his tuk-tuk when the Tsunami hit the coast. He was caught by the wave but luckily found a palm tree where he grabbed for his life. The tuk-tuk vanished. After all the gigantic tidal waves were over, Aja went home. There was no one... there was nothing anywhere, apart from destruction, mud, and corpses. In his house lived his family -- wife, daughter, mother, and father. The first three survived miraculously. The father's corpse was found 3 days later several hundred meters away from home.

- Aja took us to his home to meet his family. Along the main road, we caught a small dirty path that led us to a settlement of houses, all equal in size and shape. On the side of the houses there was an inscription: "Donated by Austria". All the houses in Kogalla were reconstructed using donations from foreign countries, and there was a clear line separating the different settlements by donating countries. We went inside the house to see nothing but weak walls, extremely tight spaces, a falling roof, tiny windows, and the worst materials you can find. The house was dark, humid, and hot. The bathroom had nothing but a toilet, and you had to go out of the house to use it. Aja explained that the houses were different from settlement to settlement. The ones from Norway, for example, were much better. What seems to be a common understanding is that the money donated for each house was never really used. The constructors made what they could do with the least amount of money and kept the rest for themselves.

- But all this is far from the worse. The millions of dollars donated to the Sri Lankan government by foreign countries are a mirage to the eyes of these people. The only aid they got from the government was a miserable 5000 Sri Lankan rupees (30 euros) per family. And only his mother received the money for his father's death, since the government, in its ironic generosity, decided that since he was his son (although a married man with a kid), they formed only one family. No one knows where all the millions went to, although it's pretty obvious that most of it went to the wrong places. War, political corruption, favors, roads, unplanned investment... you name it. The misery is still here, but nobody cares.

- Aja has a lovely and beautiful family. He has a gorgeous 7 year-old daughter and an equally beautiful wife, 8 month and a half pregnant. They didn't know the gender of the baby since they had no money for an echography. As we speak, Aja's wife has already delivered a beautiful baby.

- During our conversation, Aja discovered we were volunteers and that, among other schools, we were working in the Sacred Heart Convent, one of the best schools in the district. He asked for our help! He never asked for money, food, clothes or any kind of material value. His only wish is seeing his daughter learning in a school like the Sacred Heart Convent. In Sri Lanka, only the best schools provide the education, knowledge and discipline required to ingress in the demanding high school system, and small poor villages like Kogalla don't have the means or the teachers to provide a decent educational growth. Most of the teachers in these small schools are not qualified, and even important foreign languages, like English (the official language in Sri Lanka), are not properly taught.

- After visiting Aja's house and family, we went to see the stilt fishermen. It was almost sundown, the ideal hour to find them fishing. I took some photos and, after a while, they invited me to step on one of the stilts and try the stilt fishing. The stilts are quite comfortable. I didn't catch any fish, but I loved the experience of being there with a fishing pole, looking ahead and contemplating the ocean in front of me while the waves crashed against my stilt.

- The stilts are priceless. You cannot buy one, or even try to get up on one without permission. They belong to their owners, and they pass from generation to generation, father to son, in a family circle that cannot be broken. You also cannot add other stilts. The layout is set and cannot be changed. That little piece of Ocean belongs to them.

Sunday (9th of August)

- After being in Kogalla, we decided to go a little bit further, to Weligama, about 30 km from Galle.

- Weligama is a beautiful bay with a little island called "Taprobane".

The town is picturesque, rich in colors and shapes. There are many small shops selling just about anything, an old cinema, many mosques and some hotels. We got out at the bus station and went to the beach. Sandali was with us, and we had a nice time playing with her in the sand and enjoying the warm water of the bay.

After a while we went for a stroll on the streets; visited the cinema, where we got some nice cajus as a gift from the owner; bought some sandals to Catarina; and took some pictures.

- We then caught a tuk-tuk to the Batik factory, a clothing factory about 15 km from Weligama, in the country. The factory runs under an improvised roof where dozens of women draw precision patterns, from wax, and color the cloths in big tubs filled with chemicals. There is almost no light, and the smell from the chemicals is unbearable, but you can hear them sing and laugh while working. As hard as the conditions might look, these people look far from bored or stressed.

- The same tuk-tuk driver took us to the Snake Farm, a secluded house in a remote village where they extract the poison from the snakes to make antidotes. As soon as we arrive, there is a man with a snake in his hand, already explaining some of the characteristics of the breed to a small group of Ucranian tourists. Behind him there is a warehouse filled with boxes. Each box contains a different kind of snake or spider. One by one, he opens them, and lays the snakes on the ground, a mere 5 meters from the terrified tourists.

Then he proceeds to explain, with the snake just 2 meters from him, how poisonous and deadly they are. After a while he shows a big tarantula, and finishes the speech with the cream of the crop ... a huge 4 meter python.

- The tuk-tuk driver took us back to Weligama, after spending almost all the afternoon with us and driving over 50 km. He charged 800 rupees (less than 5 euros) for the trip. As so many others, he lost all his family in the tsunami. In his case, two children and his wife.

Rest of the Week

- Working, working and... working!

Leitores portugueses:

Sábado (8 de Agosto)

- Apanhámos o autocarro para Kogalla, uma pequena aldeia costeira a cerca de 15 quilómetros de Galle. O autocarro deixou-nos a alguns metros dos portões da Zona de Comércio Livre, um espaço industrial onde várias empresas estrangeiras se dedicam à manufactura. O princípio é simples e eficaz: ao autorizar uma zona livre de impostos, o governo reúne as condições ideais para as empresas estrangeiras investirem, e assim criarem mais emprego e sustentabilidade. Empresas como a Puma, a Benetton ou a Hugo Boss estão a operar nas zonas de comércio livre.

- A aldeia propriamente dita é praticamente inexistente, embora haja um número razoável de atracções. Há um prestigiado museu dedicado à História do Budismo; um Jardim de Especiarias, com muitas árvores e plantas que fornecem a matéria prima para a maior parte das especiarias e chás; uma grande lagoa onde, num pequeno catamaran a remos, se podem visitar várias ilhas (uma delas com um templo budista); e pesca sobre estacas. Além disto, há apenas dois ou três hotéis e uma estreita faixa de praia.

- Para poder ver tudo isto, alugámos um tuk-tuk. O condutor, chamado Aja, levou-nos a todos estes lugares a troco de quase nada e esperou pacientemente enquanto explorávamos cada atracção. Eu estava muito interessado em saber os efeitos do Tsunami nesta parte da costa e fiquei surpreendido ao saber que Kogalla tinha sido completamente arrasada pelas águas furiosas. Nenhuma das construções ou casas se mantiveram intactas. O Aja estava a conduzir o seu tuk-tuk quando o Tsunami desabou sobre a costa. Foi apanhado pela onda, mas felizmente segurou-se a uma palmeira que lhe salvou a vida. O tuk-tuk tinha desaparecido. Quando as ondas gigantescas passaram, o Aja voltou para casa. Não se via ninguém… Não havia nada, em lado nenhum, a não ser destruição, lama e cadáveres. Na sua casa vivia a sua família - mulher, filha, mãe e pai. Os três primeiros sobreviveram miraculosamente. O corpo de pai foi encontrado três dias depois, a muitas centenas de metros de casa.

- O Aja levou-nos à sua casa para conhecermos a família. Ao longo da estrada principal desviámos por um caminho sujo que nos levou a um agrupamento de casas, todas iguais em tamanho e forma. Na parede das casas havia uma inscrição: “Doada pela Áustria”. Todas as casas em Kogalla foram reconstruídas usando doações de países estrangeiros e havia linhas claras que separavam os agrupamentos doados por países diferentes. Entrámos na casa para ver pouco mais do que paredes fracas, espaços extremamente acanhados, um telhado a cair, janelas minúsculas e os piores materiais que se podem encontrar. Era escura, húmida e quente. A casa de banho apenas tinha uma sanita, e tinha que se sair da casa para a usar. O Aja explicou que as casas eram diferentes, de agrupamento para agrupamento. As oferecidas pela Noruega, por exemplo, eram muito melhores. O que parece ser entendimento geral é que o dinheiro doado para as casas nunca chegou a ser usado. Os construtores fizeram o mínimo que podiam com o mínimo de dinheiro e guardaram o resto para si.

- Mas tudo isto está longe de ser o pior. Os milhões de dólares doados ao governo do Sri Lanka pelos países estrangeiros são uma miragem para os olhos destas pessoas. A única ajuda que receberam do governo foram umas miseráveis 5000 rupias (30 euros) por família. E apenas a mãe recebeu dinheiro pela morte do pai, uma vez que o governo, na sua irónica generosidade, decidiu que, uma vez que ele era apenas o filho, embora casado e com um filho, apenas estava em causa uma família. Ninguém sabe para onde foram todos os milhões. Guerra, corrupção política, favores, estradas, investimento não planeado… sabe-se lá que mais. A miséria ainda aqui está, mas ninguém liga.

- O Aja tem uma família amorosa e bonita. Tem uma filha encantadora de sete anos e uma mulher igualmente bonita, grávida de oito meses e meio. Não sabiam o sexo do bebé, uma vez que não tinham dinheiro para uma ecografia. Entretanto, a mulher do Aja já deu à luz um lindo bebé.

- Durante a nossa conversa, o Aja descobriu que éramos voluntários e que, entre as escolas para as quais trabalhávamos, se incluía o Convento do Sagrado Coração, uma das melhores escolas do distrito. Foi então que pediu a nossa ajuda! Não pediu dinheiro, nem comida, nem roupa, nem qualquer outro tipo de valor material. O seu único desejo é ver a filha a aprender numa escola como o Convento do Sagrado Coração. No Sri Lanka, só as melhores escolas oferecem a educação, conhecimento e disciplina necessários para ingressar no exigente sistema de escolas secundárias, e as pequenas e pobres aldeias como Kogalla não têm meios, nem professores para oferecerem um crescimento educativo decente. A maioria dos professores nestas pequenas escolas não são qualificados, e mesmo as línguas estrangeiras importantes, como o Inglês (a língua oficial no Sri Lanka), não são ensinadas em condições.

- Depois de visitarmos a casa e a família do Aja, fomos ver a pesca sobre estacas. Aproximava-se o pôr do sol, hora ideal para encontrar os pescadores a pescar. Tirei fotos e, passado algum tempo, convidaram-me a trepar para uma das estacas e experimentar pescar. As estacas são bastante confortáveis. Não apanhei nenhum peixe, mas adorei a experiência de estar ali, com a cana de pesca, contemplando o oceano à minha frente enquanto as ondas rebentavam contra a estaca.

- As estacas de pesca têm um valor inestimável. Não se podem comprar, nem ninguém pode trepar para uma sem autorização. Pertencem aos seus donos e passam de geração para geração, de pai para filho, numa linha familiar que não pode ser quebrada. Também não se podem juntar novas estacas. A sua distribuição está estabelecida, não pode ser mudada.

Esse pequeno fragmento de oceano pertence-lhes.

Domingo (9 de Agosto)

- Depois de termos estado em Kogalla, decidimos ir um pouco mais longe, a Weligama, a cerca de 30 quilómetros de Galle.

- Weligama é uma linda baía com uma pequena ilha chamada “Taprobane” (a Taprobana dos Lusíadas de Camões).

A cidade é pitoresca e rica em cores e formas. Há várias pequenas lojas que vendem de tudo, um velho cinema, várias mesquitas e alguns hotéis. Fomos da estação do autocarro directamente para a praia. A Sandali está connosco e passámos um bom momento a brincar com ela na areia e desfrutando da água quente da baia. Depois disso, vagueámos pelas ruas, visitámos o cinema, onde o dono nos ofereceu como prenda alguns excelentes cajus; comprámos sandálias para a Catarina; e tirámos fotografias.

- A seguir apanhámos o tuk-tuk para a fábrica da Batik, uma fábrica de confecções, a cerca de 15 quilómetros de Weligama, no interior.

A fábrica funciona sob um telhado improvisado, onde dúzias de mulheres desenham padrões rigorosos, a partir de cera, e coram os tecidos em grandes tanques com produtos químicos. Praticamente não há luz, e o cheiro dos produtos químicos é insuportável, mas podemos ouvi-las a cantar e a rir enquanto trabalham. Por muito duras que as condições possam ser, estas pessoas parecem longe de estar aborrecidas ou stressadas.

- O mesmo condutor do tuk-tuk levou-nos à Snake Farm (Quinta das Cobras), uma casa isolada, numa aldeia remota, onde extraem o veneno das cobras para fazerem antídotos. Logo que chegamos, deparamos com um homem com uma cobra na mão a explicar algumas características da raça a um grupo de turistas ucranianos. Atrás dele há um armazém cheio de caixas.

Cada caixa contém um tipo diferente de cobra ou de aranha. Vai abrindo uma a uma e deposita as cobras no chão, a uns meros 5 metros dos turistas aterrorizados.

Explica então, com a cobra a apenas 2 metros de distância, até que ponto elas são venenosas e mortais. Passados uns momentos, mostra uma tarântula gigantesca e conclui a sua prelecção com “a nata das natas”: uma gigantesca piton de quatro metros.

- O condutor do tuk-tuk levou-nos de regresso a Weligama, depois de ter passado quase toda a tarde connosco e ter conduzido mais de 50 quilómetros. Pagámos 800 rupias (menos de 5 euros) por tudo isto. Como tantos outros, perdeu toda a sua família no Tsunami: duas crianças e a mulher.

Resto da semana

- Trabalho, trabalho…e mais trabalho!

Volunteering in Sri Lanka - Weekend and 3rd Week

Thu, 13 Aug 2009 20:46:16 -0800

English Readers:

Sri Lanka (3rd Weekend)

Saturday (1st of August)

- We went to the Beach Party at Hikkaduwa, supposedly a big Summer event where thousands of people gather on the beach and dance. We caught the bus at about 11h00, just in time to get to Hikkaduwa (some twenty kilometers away from Galle) and have lunch. Then we checked in at the "El Dorado", a Guest House we found listed on the Rough Guide.

It was located about four hundred meters away from the main road and the beach, in a calm place, away from the noise of the cars and the sound of the bars' loudspeakers. Inside it was very simple. The air conditioning in our room was broken, so we had to get on with the ceiling fan. There were no sheets on the bed, no towels, and when we asked for toilet paper, they said it was available for a price. We paid 1650 rupees for the room, which is about 10 euros. This may sound cheap, but in Sri Lanka you can get a nice guest house for the same price, with toilet paper, bed sheets, towels, air conditioning and hot water. Here we didn't have any of this.

- We strolled along the main road, looking at the shops, had a swim at the beach nearby, and looked around for signs of a party. There weren't as many people as we were expecting, although most of the bars were packed with big loudspeakers and preparing for the night. After a nice swim in the rough sea, playing with the waves, we walked back to the main road to do some gift shopping and watch some art crafting. We had dinner at the Francis Restaurant, a fancy place with live music, and then headed back to the beach for the party. The music here was deafening and too rave-like, but everything looked pretty calm at this time, apart from a few small groups dancing randomly in some kind of trance. It was definitely not our party, so we went to bed.

- It's worth mentioning that on our way to Hikkaduwa we found the first signs of refugees from the Tsunami: a big number of humanitarian tents were scattered on a stretch of beach just next to the main road.

Sunday (2nd of August)

- On the following day we had an early breakfast at a little coffee shop called "Cool Spot". It was cool, yes... to the flies. There were dozens of them buzzing around, and the food was far from... well, food. Ann asked for a fried egg, and she got some kind of slimy liquid in return.

- We caught the bus and went to Unnawatuna to see if we could at least make up for the high expectations we had put on the weekend. We had a nice lunch at Tartaruga's Restaurant and then walked along the beach to the other side of the bay. This is the part of the beach where Sri Lankan people normally come to: the water is calmer, there are barely any tourists, and so there is a feeling of native belonging. At the end of the bay, some stairs go up to a Dagoba. The view from there is stunning.

- The end of the day was spent at the Unawatuna Beach Resort Restaurant, a delightful place just next to the beach, with the best food around.

The Week (Monday to Friday)

- It was the last day at the Primary School for Catarina, since the kids were going on vacation. I was asked to go with her to take photos of the kids having classes. We headed to the Principal's office as usual, and after a while some kids started coming in with presents. They were just a few at first, but after some minutes more than one hundred kids were queuing to give the presents. It was overwhelming, to say the least, the presents pilled up on Catarina's lap: letters, postcards, beautiful works hand-made by the kids, flowers, chocolates …. There was a real feeling of gratitude from the kids and you could see the sadness in their faces as they asked: "why are you going away?", "will you be back in September?", "will you remember us?", "come, please come next year". One of them asked for our address, and after a few seconds we had about one hundred kids handing over their school books so we could write down our address on them. It was a very emotional moment.

- On this last day, Catarina taught the kids the basic steps of Salsa and Kuduro, and made a small orchestra with them playing Orff instruments. A music was played, from a really old cassette player, and Catarina was invited to create gestures and movements so that the kids could imitate her while the music was playing.

- This week I had to give two photo classes to the Photo Club girls at their Upper School. It was the first time I gave classes inside the Upper School. One took place at the Chemistry Classroom, an improvised room for my classes. I had about fifteen girls attending my class and six teachers correcting tests inside the room. The other took place at the Physics Classroom. This time I had no teachers around, only students doing some homework.

- Wednesday was Poya day, a monthly holiday that takes place every Full Moon. It's also called Full Moon day. In the morning I had a chess match with Sudheera, one of the monks, at the Temple. In the afternoon, we went to visit the beach coast near the famous and luxurious Lighthouse Hotel, and then caught a tuk-tuk to Unawatuna, where we spent the rest of the night.

- I had one more assignment this week. This time in one of the Nursery Schools. I had to photograph the kids with the teachers, the kids with the parents, the school, and the interaction between the kids and the teachers inside the classroom.

- We started interviewing victims of the Tsunami and gathering material to compile a series of stories for further publication. The Tsunami tragedy took place 5 years ago, but the signs of destruction, loss and misery are everywhere. The emotional weight of the stories is so great that I have to make an effort not to burst into tears. Catarina is much stronger in that aspect.

- On Friday I ended up my classes a little earlier so we could go to the Full Moon Festival in Unawatuna. The main street was packed with people, and you could hear the loudspeakers everywhere with religious chants.

People gather on the beach and then walk to the Temple to do their offerings. Suddenly, we were caught by a tropical rain. Everyone ran to cover under the little roofs of the sellers huts. We stayed there for about twenty minutes, squeezed among dozens of Sri Lankans. When the rain stopped we decided to leave the place. It was getting late and Catarina was starving. But on the way we saw the heart of the Festival coming. Huge elephants decorated with fancy clothes and shiny accessories, dancers in amazing costumes, musicians, and a crowd of people following them. We needed more than one hour to walk the five hundred meters to the main road.

- We keep on getting presents from people, students, parents or just families, on the way to our schools. The generosity of this people is astonishing.

- We've come to the conclusion that being a volunteer is one of the most rewarding experiences you can have, and there is nothing more valuable to this people than your heart, your care, and your help. It doesn't matter if you are a teacher, a soccer coach, a doctor, or just someone who can give a helping hand here and there. They need it, and they will show you their gratitude in ways you would never expect.

Leitores portugueses:

Sri Lanka (3º fim-de-semana)

Sábado (1 de Agosto)

- Fomos ao Festival da Praia, em Hikkaduwa, conhecido como um grande evento de Verão, onde milhares de pessoas se juntam na praia e dançam.

Apanhámos o autocarro pelas 11h00, mesmo a tempo para chegar a Hikkaduwa (a cerca de vinte quilómetros de Galle) e almoçar. Fomos então fazer o “check-in” ao El Dorado, uma residencial indicada no Rough Guide. Ficava a cerca de quatrocentos metros da rua principal e da praia, num lugar tranquilo, distante do ruído dos automóveis e dos alto-falantes dos bares. O interior era muito singelo. O ar condicionado do nosso quarto estava avariado, e tivemos de nos contentar com a ventoinha do tecto. Não havia lençóis na cama, nem toalhas, e quando pedimos papel higiénico disseram-nos que tinha de ser pago. Pagámos 1650 rupias pelo quarto, o equivalente a cerca de 10 euros. Pode parecer muito barato, mas no Sri Lanka obtém-se uma residência simpática pelo mesmo preço, com papel higiénico, lençóis de cama, toalhas, ar condicionado e água quente. Aqui não havia nada disso.

- Deambulámos pelas lojas da rua principal e depois fomos para a praia tomar banho e ver se já se sentiam alguns sinais da festa. Não havia tanta gente como esperávamos, embora os bares ostentassem grandes alto-falantes e estivessem a preparar-se para a noite. Depois de tomar banho num mar encapelado, a desafiar as ondas, regressámos à rua principal para comprar presentes e ver o artesanato. Jantámos no Francis Restaurant, um local elegante com música ao vivo, e depois regressámos à praia para a festa. A música era ensurdecedora e muito ao estilo “rave”, mas tudo parecia ainda muito calmo, a menos de um ou outro pequeno grupo a dançar ao acaso, numa espécie de transe. Não era, definitivamente, o nosso tipo de festa, e por isso fomos para a cama.

- Vale a pena mencionar que no nosso percurso para Hikkaduwa encontrámos os primeiros sinais de refugiados do Tsunami: um conjunto de tendas humanitárias dispersas ao longo de uma faixa de praia junto à rua principal.

Domingo (2 de Agosto)

- No dia seguinte, tivemos um pequeno-almoço madrugador num pequeno café chamado "Cool Spot". Sem dúvida que era “cool”,... mas para as moscas. Havia dezenas delas a zumbir à nossa volta, e a comida estava longe de ser… bem, comida. A Ann pediu um ovo estrelado, e o que lhe deram foi uma espécie de líquido viscoso.

- Apanhámos o autocarro de volta a Unnawatuna para vermos se podíamos recuperar algo das grandes expectativas que tínhamos acumulado para o fim-de-semana.

Almoçámos bem no Tartaruga's Restaurant e caminhámos ao longo da praia para o outro lado da baía. Esta é a parte da praia para vão os locais do Sri Lanka: o mar é mais calmo, praticamente não há turistas, e por isso sentimo-nos lá como se fôssemos nativos. Do outro lado da baía, umas escadas trepam para um Dagoba. A vista lá de cima é surpreendente.

- Passámos o resto do dia no Unawatuna Beach Resort Restaurant, um lugar encantador, mesmo junto à praia, com a melhor comida das redondezas.

A semana (2ª feira a 6ª feira)

- Foi o último dia da escola primária da Catarina, uma vez que os alunos entravam de férias. Pediram-me para ir com ela, para tirar fotografias das crianças a terem aulas. Dirigimo-nos ao gabinete do Director, como de costume, e minutos depois algumas crianças começaram a aparecer com presentes. No início eram apenas algumas, mas minutos depois viam-se mais de cem crianças em fila, trazendo os seus presentes.

Era impressionante, dizendo pouco, ver os presentes acumulados no colo da Catarina: cartas, postais ilustrados, variados trabalhos manuais feitos pelas crianças, flores, chocolates… Sentia-se um verdadeiro sentimento de gratidão nas crianças e podia ver-se a tristeza do seu olhar quando perguntavam: “Mas vai-se embora?”, “E não volta em Setembro?”, “Vai lembrar-se de nós?”, “Por favor, volte para o ano”.

Uma delas pediu o nosso endereço, e segundos depois tínhamos cerca de cem crianças a estenderem-nos os cadernos para que pudéssemos escrever aí o nosso endereço. Foi um momento muito comovente.

- Neste último dia, a Catarina ensinou às crianças os passos básicos da Salsa e do Kuduro, e improvisou uma pequena orquestra com elas a tocarem instrumentos Orff. A certa altura ouviu-se música a sair de um velho gravador de cassetes, e a Catarina foi convidada a improvisar gestos e movimentos que as crianças pudessem imitar enquanto a música tocava.

- Nesta semana tive de dar duas aulas de fotografia às alunas do Clube de Fotografia da escola secundária feminina. Foi a primeira vez que dei aulas no interior desta escola. Primeiro, foi num laboratório de Química, um espaço improvisado para que pudesse dar aulas de fotografia. Havia quinze raparigas a frequentarem a minha aula, ao mesmo tempo que seis professores corrigiam testes na mesma sala. A outra vez, foi na sala de Física, e agora não havia professores, mas sim alunos a fazerem o trabalho de casa.

- Quarta-feira foi o dia Poya, um feriado mensal que celebra a Lua Cheia - também chamado o Dia da Lua Cheia. De manhã, joguei xadrez com o Sudheera, um dos monges, no Templo. À tarde, fomos visitar a praia junto ao famoso e luxuoso Lighthouse Hotel, após o que apanhámos um tuk-tuk para Unawatuna, onde passámos o resto da noite.

- Tive mais uma tarefa esta semana. Desta vez num dos infantários: fotografar as crianças com os professores, as crianças com os pais, a escola e a interacção entre crianças e professores dentro da sala de aula.

- Começámos a entrevistar as vítimas do Tsunami e a reunir material para uma série de histórias para futura publicação. A tragédia do Tsunami aconteceu há cinco anos, mas os sinais de destruição, perda e miséria estão por todo o lado. O peso emocional das histórias é tão grande que tenho de fazer um esforço para conter as lágrimas. Neste aspecto, a Catarina é muito mais forte.

- Na 6ª feira acabei as minhas aulas um pouco mais cedo para podermos ir ao festival da Lua Cheia em Unawatuna. A rua principal estava apinhada de gente, e podiam-se ouvir os alto-falantes entoando, por todo o lado, cânticos religiosos. As pessoas reúnem-se na praia e depois vão para o Templo fazer as suas ofertas. Subitamente, desabou sobre nós uma enxurrada tropical. Toda a gente correu para se proteger sob os pequenos toldos das tendas dos vendedores. Mantivemo-nos lá uns vinte minutos, apertados entre dezenas de locais. Quando a chuva acabou, decidimos ir embora, uma vez que estava a ficar tarde e a Catarina estava cheia de fome. Mas no caminho deparámos com a aproximação do grosso do festival. Elefantes gigantescos decorados com fatos vistosos e acessórios brilhantes, dançarinos com fatos exóticos, músicos e uma multidão de pessoas que os seguia. Precisámos de cerca de uma hora para percorrer os 500 metros que nos separavam da rua principal.

- Continuamos a receber presentes de toda a gente, alunos, pais e famílias, no caminho para as nossas escolas. A generosidade deste povo é surpreendente. Chegámos à conclusão de que ser voluntário é uma das experiências mais compensadoras que se pode ter, e que não há nada mais valioso para estas pessoas do que o nosso coração, o nosso carinho e a nossa ajuda. Não interessa se somos professores, treinadores de futebol, médicos, ou qualquer outra pessoa que possa ajudar aqui e ali. Eles precisam disso, e demonstram a sua gratidão de forma que nunca esperaríamos.

Volunteering in Sri Lanka - Weekend and 2nd Week

Tue, 4 Aug 2009 20:33:01 -0800

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Sri Lanka (2nd Weekend)

Saturday - 25th of July

The weekend arrived and, as planned, we went to visit Galle for the first time. Ann was going with us, which was nice.

Inside the Bus

We caught the bus at the main road, our first time on a bus in Sri Lanka. Lucky as we always are, the bus was crammed with people and getting into it turned out to be a Tetris Challenge. The bus is new by Sri Lankan standards, probably around twenty years old, but it feels like something from World War II. The ride is harsh, bumpy, noisy and totally unsafe. But if you pay five cents to go to Galle (about five kilometers away) what would you expect? It's like going on a roller coaster for free.

We arrive in Galle... alive!

Galle Bus Station

The bus station is packed with people. There are dozens and dozens of buses all over the place, mixed with three-wheelers, motorbikes, bikes, people and dogs. There are vendors in every corner, selling everything, from fruit to clothes and craftwork.

Galle is divided into two different zones, the New Town, and the Old Town.

The Old Town is located inside the Fort, a massive Dutch colonial structure from the 17th Century, built over the previous Portuguese Fort. The Town follows the same patterns, with a typical colonial style and strong Dutch influences.

Our time in town is spent visiting art shops, churches and museums. In one of the churches there is a visitor’s logbook, where I see people from all over the world, but mainly Europeans. From Portugal there is no one. We are the first!

There are also many gem shops, with jewelry for every taste.

On the other end of the Old Town we reach the ocean. The day is cloudy and warm, and there are many people walking along the Fort and a myriad of young couples hiding under colorful umbrellas.

Galle is a touristic destination. You can see that, not only from the number of tourists strolling around, but also from the number of locals trying to sell you all kind of products and services. One of them, a teenager, sells diving stunts. For a few coins, he jumps from a high cliff into the ocean, full of rocks.

After we had walked a while at the Fort, a Muslim family asked to take photos with us. Initially they were only 6, but then another 10 joined in. They probably thought we were celebreties

The day in the Old Town ended at a big colonial square where some kids were playing cricket. A little wall showed drawings and paintings by people who had recorded their passage there, and a big tree nearby had falling branches that looked like lianas. Ann decided to climb up the lianas, Tarzan style, and then she wrote the review of her experience on the arts wall.

When we went back home I realized that I had lost my wallet. The wasn’t much money inside, but it contained my credit card, ID card, driver's license, and other important documents.

Sunday - 26th of July

On Sunday we decided to visit the famous beach of Unawatuna, but not before going to Galle to buy a few things.

We went to the bus station, as usual, already expecting an overcrowded bus. When the bus stopped ... there was no one inside! We were the only passengers! Along the journey, several people at bus stops signaled the bus to stop, but it went on. We thought the situation was very odd and, as the bus was smaller than the others, we started wondering whether it might be a much more expensive private bus. When the bus stopped at Galle Station, we asked for the price, nervously, and the driver answered: "It's nothing, have a nice day". Sri Lanka never stops to amaze me!

This time we walked around the New Town, a crowded area with open markets and shops. There were fruit vendors all over the place, and small shops abounded. We bought some fruit and then caught the bus to Unawatuna.

Unawatuna is a big stretch of beach with a few hotels and several guesthouses on one side and the ocean on the other side.

It has that kind of postcard feeling, with palm trees filling the empty spaces, exotic fishing boats and wooden guesthouses literally touching the ocean waves. The houses are so close to the water that it is hard to believe how they manage to survive the high tides.

The ocean is a bit rough at this time of the year, the low season in Sri Lanka, and there are many big waves breaking on shore.

Further along, there is some protection from the coral reef and the ocean looks more like a lagoon. Far away, in the distance, we can see a big white Dagoba (a Stupa, a Buddhist religious monument) standing conspicuously at the top of a hill. There are some people walking along the beach, selling things, from fruits to necklaces and clothes, but they usually are not too annoying.

We had lunch at a seaside restaurant ("Tartaruga Beach Resort Restaurant") and sat at a table on the sand, just a few meters away from the breaking waves. The breeze was perfect, the food was divine, and the scenery breathtaking. It was the moment to relax and, finally, have a good rest.

After some time reading and enjoying the views, we all went for a swim. The water was surprisingly warm, with a temperature around 26 degrees Celsius. Seeing Catarina swimming in the ocean is a very rare occurrence, mostly because she can't stand the cold, but here she looked like a fish in the water. Lovely!

It was getting late and we were hungry, so we caught the bus back to Galle and had our meal at Anura's Restaurant, a small cozy place with very friendly people, great food, fantastic milkshakes, and the best pancakes ever.

On the way back home, we caught a three-wheeler, to save time, but the driver got lost several times and we ended up arriving quite late.

Rest of the Week (27th of July to the 31st of July)

- The photography classes are going great, and I can see the students getting better and better and looking increasingly interested.

- Catarina is still giving music lessons to a class of 150 girls.

- Students and parents are always offering food: bananas, mangos, coconuts, sodas, juices, etc. We come home at the end of the day with plastic bags filled with offerings.

- We have already given the presents to the little girl and little boy of the poor family next to the Temple. They loved them! Now they come to greet us everyday with a huge smile.

- Seth and Koeli keep on coming to our room everyday, speaking a mix of Sinhala and English. Koeli calls me Uncle and Catarina Antie. Seth calls me Gonzala and Catarina is Antie. They are starting to speak a little more English, saying sentences like: "Antie, biscuit", "Dinner, come", "look... moon", etc. Catarina taught Koeli how to say "colinho" (a tender word for “lap”, in Portuguese) and now she asks for "colinho" all the time.

- Catarina and Ann have a record of two mosquito’s bites per day, some times even three per day. Surprisingly, I've not been bitten a single time! It must be the aftershave!

- I started the work on the roof of the sanitary block. In this first day, I had to crack holes on the bricks, to let the wooden boards get in.

- The second day working on the sanitary block was spent cutting and bending reinforced iron bars and cutting wood boards to fill the gaps between the iron rows. Sudheera, one of the young monks, helped me the whole morning. After four hours of hard work, we were getting the roof ready to be filled up with cement.

- The third day working on the sanitary block was spent strapping some of the iron bars and applying cement. The cement was mixed manually using shovels, it was poured into small buckets, and then it was passed along, from worker to worker (seven of them) in the old ”fire brigade” system. The system was rudimentary, but highly effective. After three hours of hard work, the roof was filled up with cement. My hands were in pretty bad shape, the friction against the bucket handles and the hard cement feeling like sharp glass. Three days gone, they are still damaged, but recovering well. At the end of the morning, the High Priest gave us some coconuts to freshen us up and recharge our batteries.

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Sri Lanka (2º fim de semana)

Sábado – 25 de Julho

O fim-de-semana chegou e, tal como planeado, fomos visitar Galle pela primeira vez. A Ann veio connosco, o que foi muito bom.

Apanhámos o autocarro na estrada principal. Foi a primeira vez que andámos de autocarro no Sri Lanka. Com a sorte que temos, o autocarro está apinhado de gente, e arranjar espaço lá dentro é como jogar o Tetris. Pelos padrões do Sri Lanka, o autocarro é novo, com alguns vinte anos, mas mais parece uma coisa do tempo da Segunda Grande Guerra. A viagem é dura, aos solavancos, barulhenta e completamente insegura. Também, o que é que se podia esperar quando se pagam apenas 5 cêntimos até Galle (cerca de 5 km)? É como viajar de graça na montanha russa.

Chegamos a Galle…vivos! A estação de autocarros está cheia de gente. Há dúzias e dúzias de autocarros por todo o lado, misturados com veículos de três rodas, motos, bicicletas, pessoas e cães. Há vendedores por todo o lado, vendendo tudo, desde fruta a roupa e artesanato.

Galle está dividida em duas zonas, a Cidade Nova e a Cidade Velha. A Cidade Velha fica dentro do Forte, uma estrutura maciça colonial, holandesa, que data do século XVII e foi construída por cima do forte anterior, que era português. A cidade segue o mesmo padrão, com um estilo colonial muito típico e fortes influências holandesas.

Dentro da Cidade Velha passamos o tempo a visitar lojas de arte, igrejas e museus.

Numa das igrejas há um livro de registo das visitas. Vêem-se pessoas de todo o mundo, principalmente europeus. Portugueses, não há nenhum. Fomos os primeiros!

Também há muitas lojas de pedras preciosas, com jóias para todos os gostos.

Do outro lado da cidade, chegamos ao oceano. O dia está enevoado e quente, há muita gente a passear ao longo do Forte e uma multidão de jovens escondidos debaixo de chapéus-de-chuva coloridos.

Galle é um destino turístico. Vê-se logo, não só pelo número de turistas que se passeiam de um lado para o outro, mas também pela multidão de habitantes locais que tentam vender todo o tipo de produtos e serviços. Um jovem “vendia” espectáculos de mergulho! A troco de umas moedas, saltava de um penhasco alto, para o mar cheio de rochedos.

Quando passeávamos no Forte, uma família muçulmana pediu-nos para tirar uma fotografia connosco. No princípio eram seis, mas acabaram por se juntar mais dez. Devem ter pensado que éramos celebridades

Na Cidade Velha, a visita terminou numa grande praça colonial onde algumas crianças jogavam cricket. Havia uma pequena parede com desenhos e pinturas de quem quis registar a sua passagem por aqueles lados, e uma árvore enorme, com ramos pendentes, fazendo lembrar lianas. A Ann decidiu experimentar as lianas, à Tarzan, e depois registou na parede o testemunho da sua experiência.

Quando regressámos a casa, reparei que tinha perdido a carteira. O dinheiro não foi problema: tinha lá pouco. O pior foi o cartão de crédito, o BI, a carta de condução e outros documentos importantes que também lá estavam.

Domingo - 26 de Julho

No domingo decidimos visitar a famosa praia de Unawatuna, mas antes fizemos algumas compras em Galle. Chegámos à paragem do autocarro imaginando já o aperto do costume. Mas não! O autocarro chegou e… não havia ninguém lá dentro: éramos os únicos passageiros! Durante a viagem houve várias pessoas que, nas paragens, faziam sinal para o condutor parar, mas ele não parou. Achámos muito estranho, e como o autocarro era mais pequeno do que os outros, começámos a pensar que era capaz de ser algum autocarro privado, muito mais caro. Quando parou na estação de Galle perguntámos, nervosamente, quanto era. E o condutor respondeu: ”Não é nada, tenham um bom dia!”. O Sri Lanka não pára de me surpreender.

Desta vez passeámo-nos pela Cidade Nova, uma área apinhada de gente com mercados

ao ar livre e lojas. Havia vendedores de fruta por todo o lado e abundavam as lojas pequenas. Comprámos fruta e depois apanhámos o autocarro para Unawatuna.

Unawatuna é uma faixa de praia que tem de um lado alguns hotéis e muitas pensões e do outro o mar. Tem aquele aspecto de postal ilustrado, com palmeiras a preencher os espaços vazios, exóticos barcos de pesca, muitas pousadas de madeira que se estendem até às ondas do mar. As casas estão tão perto da água que é difícil perceber como é que é possível sobreviverem a ondas tão altas.

O mar está muito agitado nesta altura do ano, a estação baixa no Sri Lanka, e as ondas que chegam à praia são muito altas. Mais à frente há a protecção de um recife de corais e o mar parece um lago. Ao longe vê-se um enorme Dagoba (ou Stupa, um monumento religioso budista) branco, destacando-se no cimo de um monte. Ao longo da praia há pessoas que vendem fruta, colares e roupa, mas normalmente não incomodam.

Almoçámos num restaurante à beira-mar (o "Tartaruga Beach Resort Restaurant") e sentámo-nos numa mesa na areia, a apenas alguns metros das ondas. Estava uma brisa muito agradável, a comida era divinal e o cenário de cortar a respiração.

Era o momento ideal para relaxar e finalmente descansar.

Depois de algum tempo a ler e a apreciar as vistas, fomos tomar banho. A água estava surpreendentemente quente, com a temperatura à volta dos 26 graus. Ver a Catarina a nadar no mar é algo muito raro, sobretudo porque ela não aguenta a água fria. Mas aqui parecia um peixe na água. Que maravilha!

Estava a ficar tarde e nós com fome. Regressámos então a Galle e fomos jantar ao Anura’s Restaurant, um lugar acolhedor, com pessoas muito simpáticas, comida saborosa, excelentes batidos de leite e as melhores panquecas que alguma vez comi.

O caminho para casa foi feito num veículo de três rodas, para chegarmos mais depressa, mas o condutor perdeu-se várias vezes e acabámos por chegar muito tarde.

Resto da semana (27 a 31 de Julho)

- As aulas de fotografia continuam a correr muito bem, e eu sinto que os alunos estão cada vez melhores e muito interessados.

- A Catarina continua a dar aulas de música a 150 raparigas.

- Os alunos e os pais estão sempre a oferecer comida: bananas, mangas, cocos, sumos… Ao fim do dia, voltamos para casa com sacos de plástico cheios de ofertas.

- Já demos os presentes aos pequenitos da família pobre que vive perto do Templo. Adoraram! Agora, quando nos vêm cumprimentar, mostram um enorme sorriso.

- O Seth e a Koeli continuam a vir para o nosso quarto todos os dias. Falam uma mistura de Singalês e Inglês. A Koeli chama-me “Uncle” (Tio) e “Antie” (Tia) à Catarina. O Seth chama-me Gonzala e “Antie” à Catarina. Estão a começar a falar um pouco mais em Inglês. Dizem frases como: "Antie, biscuit", "Dinner, come", "look... moon", etc. A Catarina ensinou a Koeli a dizer "colinho", e agora ela pede "colinho" a toda a hora.

- A Catarina e a Ann têm um recorde de duas picadelas de mosquito por dia, às vezes chegam mesmo às três. Surpreendentemente, nunca fui mordido uma única vez... deve ser do aftershave!

- Comecei o trabalho no telhado do bloco sanitário. Neste primeiro dia tive de “partir” buracos nos tijolos para que as barras de madeira pudessem entrar.

- O segundo dia de trabalho no bloco sanitário foi passado a cortar e a dobrar varões de aço reforçado e a cortar barras de madeira para preencher os intervalos entre os varões de aço. Sudheera, um dos jovens monges, ajudou-me toda a manhã. Depois de quatro horas de trabalho árduo, o tecto começou a ficar pronto para ser enchido com cimento.

- O terceiro dia de trabalho no bloco sanitário foi passado a amarrar alguns varões de aço e a aplicar cimento. O cimento era misturado manualmente, usando pás, era vertido para pequenos baldes e, depois, passava de mão em mão, de trabalhador para trabalhador (7 ao todo), usando o velho sistema da “brigada do balde”, para apagar incêndios. O sistema era rudimentar, mas muito eficaz. Depois de três horas de trabalho duro, o telhado ficou todo cheio com cimento. As minhas mãos ficaram em bastante mau estado e cada vez que as apertava nas asas dos baldes ou no cimento duro parecia que estava a pegar em vidros partidos. Três dias depois, ainda estão mal tratadas, mas a recuperar bem. Ao fim da manhã, o Padre Superior deu-nos cocos para nos refrescarmos e carregarmos as baterias.

Volunteering in Sri Lanka - News from the Week

Tue, 28 Jul 2009 23:37:21 -0800

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Sri Lanka (day 3) - 20th of July

We woke up at 6:50 in the morning, went for a nice cold water shower and then breakfast. At about 8:00 we went to the Primary School to meet the Head Teacher and get to know the school. The school gates opened and we were suddenly surrounded by hundreds of white dressed little girls with red ribbons on their hair. They were all over the place, looking over the windows, walking on the path walks, and staring curiously at us.

We were served soft drinks and after a small conversation the Head Teacher showed us the school. It's an old school, very simple and with very little furniture. In the music room, there are no chairs: the girls sit on the floor. There is also a vertical piano, as old as the school and completely out of tune.

Many children started to gather in the music room, maybe about fifty. We thought they were going to sing or dance for us. But then the teacher turns to Catarina and says: "Sing, sing to them". Well, she did sing, and all the kids sang along with her, but she learned the hard way that we must always be ready for anything. Lucky me, and lucky them, nobody asked me to sing.

After that we went to visit the Upper School, just 100 meters away from the Primary Shool. Once again, a girls school.

My photo class in the Upper School

The school is located in a historical building, still well preserved. The Head Teacher is a nun. We had a nice chat with her at the Main Office and planned the photo classes. The School is opening a Photo Club, a place where students can learn photography and produce photo work for the school. I was assigned to teach them photography and prepare the girls for that mission. The lessons will be given on Fridays, the whole morning, to four different classes.

In the afternoon I went to the Temple to start the other Photo Course. The class was full. Most of them understand just basic English, and I realized how hard it is to teach photography without using the technical photo vocabulary. After a while I asked them some questions, and it became obvious that they don't understand everything I say. Even so, they looked very interested and eager for coming to the next lesson.

Photo classes at the Temple

Dinner at Janaka's house is at 20h00. We always take off our shoes or slippers before getting in, just like the rest of the family. They eat with their right hand, just like every Sri Lankan native... no forks and no knives. I decided to have a try and had my first meal eating just with my hand. It's strange and it doesn't feel too clean, but it seems to work in this country. After the meal, they bring a bowl of water and we wash our hands inside.

Time to get some sleep.

Rest of the Week

- We got to know the other working assignments: running two nurseries with kids from 3 to 5, English lessons for parents, conversational English lessons in the Temple for adults, and French lessons in the Primary School.

Catarina's students in the French class

- Every new working place brought us some kind of new experience. In one of the nurseries, during the evening classes, there were no teachers. We opened the school and ran the classes all by ourselves as if it were our own school.

- At the Temple we perceive the sound of a Bhuda chanting, going from 18h00 to 19h00, precisely the same hour of our conversational English classes at the Temple. Imagine giving a class with a persistent hum in the background.

- One day we went to the Primary School on the tuk tuk (3 wheeler). At some point of the journey the tuk tuk ran out of gas. The driver, Premasiri, grabbed an empty bottle and went running barefooted into the horizon. We just stood there waiting. After a while, there he was, bottle filled, happy as ever.

Nick giving Soccer classes - the kids are so poor that most of them only have a pair of shoes. Because of that they prefer to play barefooted

- I went with Nick to a very poor school where he was teaching soccer to the kids. The idea was to take some photos of the kids playing and help Nick in whatever he needed. But the Principal of the School got interested in my work and took me to see the school and get an idea of the problems they were trying to solve. Then he took me to see a small clay brick factory, just outside the school. The man from the factory cut a coconut and gave it to me to drink.

When I got back to the school, the kids brought me kilos of fruits they had picked up while I was away. I was overwhelmed with the reception.

Me with the kids - camera in self-timer on top of the camra bag

At the end of the lesson, they made a small ceremony to thank Nick for his work and gave us flowers.

Most of the kids play barefooted on a field surrounded by jungle. The conditions are really bad, but they play as happily as anyone.

- Catarina gave a singing class to 150 girls and started giving French classes at the Primary School.

- Elisabeth and Nick went back to the USA. We had a nice farewell dinner.

- There is a family who lives on the pathway from Janaka's place to the Temple that gets outside of their house everyday to say hello when we pass. They look very poor and have two kids, a boy and a girl. We bought some presents for them and will give them later this week.

- Classes at the temple are going great. It's interesting to see the Monks so focused on the craft of photography.

- Someone important was shot in a road nearby. The schools closed because very few kids showed up.

Monitor - Big Lizard of Sri Lanka

- We saw two "monitors", a very big lizard, about 3 meters in length, wandering in a small river about 500 meters from our place. They remind me of the Komodo Dragons seen in places like Tasmania. They are huge, but harmless creatures.

- We met Ann, the Scottish lady who is also volunteering in our project. She is really funny and we are now close friends. She has been here for a month now, so she became like our tourist guide, taking us everywhere, teaching us some of the Singhalese culture and helping us with the basics to survive in Sri Lanka.

- The monks became good friends, too. They stay with me after the classes for over half an hour every day, asking questions and talking about several subjects.

Monk in the Temples Heritage Room

- We were invited to visit another temple nearby. It was big and had a great religious heritage, with a Golden Buda of inestimable value.
- We are getting more adapted to the high temperatures, but taking two showers a day, at least.

- Seth and Koeli come to our room almost twice a day, in the morning and in the evenings. We are like second parents.

Leitores portugueses:

Sri Lanka (3º dia) - 20 de Julho

Acordámos às 6h50 da manhã, tomámos um reconfortante chuveiro de água fria e, a seguir, o pequeno-almoço. Por volta das 8h00, dirigimo-nos à Escola Primária para nos apresentarmos à Directora e ficarmos a conhecer a escola. Os portões da escola abriram e, de repente, ficámos rodeados por centenas de meninas com vestidos brancos e fitas vermelhas no cabelo. Havia crianças por todo o lado, a olhar às janelas, a passear nos corredores e a olharem para nós cheias de curiosidade.

Serviram-nos alguns sumos e, depois de uma curta conversa, a Directora mostrou-nos a escola. É uma escola velha, muito simples e com muito pouca mobília. Na sala de Música não há cadeiras e as alunas sentam-se no chão. Há um piano vertical, tão velho quanto a escola e completamente desafinado.

Um grande número de crianças, cerca de 50, começou a juntar-se na sala de Música. Pensámos que iam cantar ou dançar para nós. Mas não. A Directora virou-se para a Catarina e disse: "Cante, cante para elas". E ela cantou, e todas as crianças cantaram com ela. Bom, mas aprendeu à sua custa que devemos estar sempre preparados para o que der e vier. A minha sorte, e a sorte delas, foi que ninguém me pediu para cantar.

A seguir fomos visitar a Escola Secundária que fica a cerca de 100 metros da Escola Primária. Mais uma vez, uma escola para raparigas. Esta escola fica num edifício histórico, contudo bem preservado. A Directora é uma freira. Tivemos uma conversa simpática com ela no seu gabinete e fizemos um plano para as aulas de fotografia. A escola está a abrir um Clube de Fotografia, lugar onde as alunas podem aprender fotografia e produzir trabalhos de fotografia para a escola. Fiquei incumbido de dar aulas de fotografia e preparar as alunas para esta missão. As aulas serão dadas às sextas-feiras, durante toda a manhã, a quatro turmas diferentes.

À tarde fui para o Templo começar o outro curso de fotografia. A sala estava cheia.
A maior parte dos alunos compreende apenas o Inglês básico, e torna-se muito difícil ensinar sem poder utilizar o vocabulário técnico de fotografia. A certa altura, fiz-lhes algumas perguntas e ficou claro que não compreendem tudo o que eu digo. Mesmo assim, pareciam muito interessados e com muita vontade de vir à aula seguinte.

Em casa do Janaka o jantar é às 20h00. Descalçamos sempre os sapatos ou as sandálias antes de entrarmos, tal como faz toda a família. Comem com a mão direita, como todos os nativos do Sri Lanka,… sem garfos nem facas. Decidi experimentar e foi a primeira refeição em que comi só com a mão. É uma sensação estranha e muito pouco higiénico, mas parece resultar neste país. No fim da refeição trazem uma taça com água onde lavamos as mãos.

São horas de ir para a cama.

O resto da semana

- Ficámos a conhecer os outros lugares de trabalho: dois infantários para crianças dos 3 aos 5 anos, aulas de Inglês para Pais, aulas de Inglês de conversação para adultos, dadas no Templo, e aulas de Francês na Escola Primária.

- Cada um dos novos espaços de trabalho trazia-nos uma experiência nova. Num dos infantários, durante as aulas dadas ao fim da tarde, não havia nenhum professor. Abrimos a escola e demos as aulas completamente sozinhos, como se a escola fosse nossa.

No templo ouve-se uma ladainha budista, sempre entre as 18h00 e as 19h00, precisamente à hora das nossas aulas de conversação. Não imaginam o que é dar uma aula com este ruído de fundo constante.

Um dia fomos para a Escola Primária num “tuk tuk” (moto de 3 rodas). A certa altura, o veículo ficou sem gasolina. O condutor, Premasiri, pegou numa garrafa vazia e correu, descalço, desaparecendo no horizonte. Ficámos ali à espera… Depois de algum tempo
apareceu com a garrafa cheia e feliz como sempre.

- Fui com o Nick a uma escola muito pobre, onde ele estava a ensinar os miúdos a jogar futebol.

Decaying Classroom

A ideia era tirar-lhes algumas fotografias a jogarem futebol e ajudar o Nick no que fosse preciso. Mas o Director da escola mostrou-se muito interessado no meu trabalho e levou-me a visitar a escola e a conhecer os problemas que andavam a tentar resolver. Depois levou-me a visitar uma pequena fábrica de tijolos, mesmo ao lado da escola. O homem que estava na fábrica cortou um coco e deu-mo a beber.

Kids saying goodbye at the school gate

Quando regressei à escola, os miúdos traziam, para me dar, quilos de fruta que tinham apanhado enquanto eu tinha estado com o Director. Fiquei muito surpreendido com a recepção. No fim, fizeram uma pequena cerimónia para agradecer ao Nick o trabalho que ele tinha desenvolvido na escola, e deram-nos flores.
- A Catarina deu uma aula de Música a 150 crianças e começou a dar aulas de Francês na Escola Primária.

- A Elisabeth e o Nick voltaram para os Estados Unidos. Tivemos um jantar de despedida muito simpático.

- No caminho da casa do Janaka para o Templo vive uma família que, todos os dias, quando nos vê, sai de casa para nos cumprimentar. Têm um aspecto muito pobre. Os filhos são dois, um rapaz e uma rapariga. Comprámos alguns presentes para eles, que lhes vamos dar no fim da semana.

- As aulas no Templo estão a correr muito bem. É interessante ver como os Monges se concentram com tanto empenho na arte da fotografia.

- Alguém importante foi morto a tiro numa estrada das redondezas. As escolas fecharam porque apareceram muito poucas crianças.

Reverend Sudheera playing with the Camera

- Vimos dois "monitors", lagartos enormes, com cerca de três metros de comprimento, passeando num pequeno rio a cerca de 500 metros de nossa casa. Fazem-me lembrar os Komodo Dragons que se vêem em sítios como a Tasmania. São enormes, mas inofensivos.

- Fomos apresentados à Ann, a senhora escocesa também voluntária no mesmo projecto. É realmente muito engraçada e somos já grandes amigos. Como já cá está há um mês tornou-se a nossa guia turística. Leva-nos a todo o lado, ensina-nos alguma coisa sobre a cultura singalesa e ajuda-nos no essencial para sobreviver no Sri Lanka.

- Os monges também já são grandes amigos. Ficam comigo depois da aula, mais de meia hora todos os dias, a fazer perguntas e a falar dos seus projectos.

- Convidaram-nos a visitar outro templo nas redondezas. É grande e tem uma grande herança religiosa, com um Buda em ouro de valor inestimável.

- Já estamos mais adaptados às altas temperaturas, mas tomamos dois chuveiros por dia, pelo menos.

- O Seth e a Koeli vêm ter connosco ao quarto duas vezes por dia, de manhã e ao fim da tarde. É como se fôssemos os segundos pais.

Volunteering in Sri Lanka - First Days

Fri, 24 Jul 2009 20:55:21 -0800

Note:

When I decided to write a blog of our daily experiences in Sri Lanka, I never thought I would end up facing an impossible mission. There are so many things happening during the day that even memorizing everything becomes a difficult task. To make things easier, and to make up for the lost days without blog entries, I have decided to compile everything in a different written format. From now on, the "Sri Lanka Volunteering" blog entries will be delivered in topics, short sentences, and less detail.

Nota:

Quando decidi escrever um blogue acerca das experiências do nosso dia-a-dia no Sri Lanka nunca pensei que iria enfrentar uma missão impossível. Aconteceram tantas coisas durante o dia que o simples facto de querer memorizar tudo se torna tarefa difícil. Para tornar as coisas mais fáceis e recuperar os dias perdidos sem entradas de blogues, decidi compilar tudo usando um formato escrito diferente. Daqui para a frente, as entradas no blogue “ Sri Lanka Volunteering” serão inseridas em tópicos, frases curtas e com menos pormenor.

Enquanto escrevo, lá fora há macacos a saltar nas árvores.

As I’m writing, monkeys are jumping outside on the trees.

English Readers:

Sri Lanka (day 1 - Saturday)

The doors of the Airport opened, and outside the temperature was asphyxiating - 32 degrees Celsius in the shade and a sweating humidity. The car driving us to Galle was a Toyota, similar to the previous version of the Corolla Hatchback, with Air-Conditioning (Thank God!) and steering wheel on the right side. In Sri Lanka they use the same road rule system of the United Kingdom, which means that everything works the other way round.

There are soldiers all over the place. Although we should feel safe with such a strong apparatus, we feel more stressed than relieved, and the little road side bunkers used to stop vehicles randomly do not help make us feel better.

The traffic is infernal! I would probably need two full pages to explain how things work in these roads. Since I don't have the time, I'll make it as obvious as possible - in Sri Lanka there are NO traffic rules. The road is full of ‘tuk-tuks’, also called three-wheelers, three wheel motorbikes with a maximum speed of about 40 km/h. Then you have the buses. They are older than "Gandhi", they are noisy, and the drivers only know two driving actions: full-throttle and full-breaks. The golden rule seems to be the horn. If someone is coming in your direction on the wrong side of the road, you hit the horn; if you want to take-over, you hit the horn; if some pedestrian is crossing the road, even if it is miles away from you, you hit the horn; if you go through an intersection, guess what?... Yes... you hit the horn. The average "horn-pressing" from our driver, Mr. Wilfred, was 2 per minute. Since we took over 3 hours to get from Colombo to Galle (116 km distance) the number of "bip-bips" might have topped the 400. And all this on a Saturday, between 9h00 and 12h15 in the morning, far from weekday rush hours.

Anyway... I was dead sick!! After only 30 minutes of driving I felt like throwing up. I stared at an imaginary empty space ahead and didn't move for the entire journey. My stomach was boiling inside, and with each "full-break" I shivered in dizziness. Catarina couldn't stand it either. But while I was on the front passenger seat, she was at the back, which is far worse. And she was already sick from the flight. She lied down on the seat, closed her eyes, and didn't move till the end.

We arrived at Janaka's place (our home for the next 50 days) in complete car-sickness.

view from our room

Getting out was like standing up on a kid’s inflatable boat. Janaka's wife, "Manel" (yes, Manel is a lady) greeted us at the entrance and gave us a glass of orange juice. I couldn't take it. I was feeling even worse and the smell of incense made everything even harder. I went outside and sat on the outside steps. Catarina was recovering and explained her what was happening to me, since I was unable to say anything.

We spent the rest of the afternoon, in our room, resting from the journey. The room is huge and beautifully decorated. The bathroom is also very big. There is no hot water, but who cares! With such high temperatures, cold water is just what we long for. Outside it looks like you live in a tropical jungle. There are palm trees filled with coconuts, strange vegetation and, occasionally, monkeys jumping from tree to tree.

In the evening Janaka takes us to his Hotel to have a special meal. The Hotel is beautiful, laid-out in an open-space philosophy, just next to the Ocean. According to Janaka, the Hotel survived the Tsunami because of being an open-space, allowing the water to flow freely without creating too much pressure on the walls and pillars. We had a long nice conversation and ate like kings.

Sri Lanka (day 2 - Sunday)

Seth and Koeli showing their rambutans, typical Sry Lankan fruit

On the next day we woke up at about 10h00, just in time for a late fruit and omelet breakfast. We met Nick, the 18-year-old soccer training volunteer and his mother, Elizabeth, who came to Sri Lanka for homeopathic treatments. We also met Janaka's children, Samadi (girl 11), Sandali (girl 7), Seth (boy 4,5) and Koeli (girl 3). They are all lovely, smiling kids. Koeli has amazing beautiful eyes and speaks a lot (although we don't understand a word of what she says); Seth became our shadow, he is around us all the time when we are at home; Sandali has an exotic beauty and she is the most serene and calm of all; Samadi is the oldest, a nice friendly girl, always willing to help. Only Samadi and Sandali speak a little English. Seth and Cueiley know some words in English.

During the afternoon we went to meet the High Priest of the nearby Temple, the place where I would give the Photography Classes. The Temple is small, simple, and with yellow outside walls. Inside it's really plain, with about 3 different classrooms, praying rooms, and little more than some chairs and tables. One of the rooms has also a big Buda statue where the offerings are made. There is also a small library upstairs, created by Janaka de Silva and Ann Chawner, symbolically called the "Tsunami Memorial Library". Inside the classrooms the windows have no glasses and the breeze flows in constantly.

When we met the High Priest we had to kneel down and bow and make an offering (flowers and incense) to the Buda Statue. It's part of the Budist culture to make this action the first time we enter inside a Temple. The High Priest is very friendly and talks a lot. His English is not that good, but it is enough to have nice conversations. In the Temple there are five other monks, mostly young adults. Four of them come from Nepal and the other is from Sri Lanka. The Nepalese Monks have ages ranging from 16 to 18. The Singhalese monk is 21 years old.

Some of my students in the Photography Class

In one of the classrooms there were already about 15 students waiting for the planned introduction to the Photography Classes. The High Priest started the initial talks, in Singhalese, Janaka also made a small speech and then I gave a concise overview of the studies.

At dinnertime, Janaka gave us the weekly schedule for us to analyze and debate. It was going to be a full week.

We were very tired already, so we went to bed quite early.

Leitores portugueses:

Sri Lanka (1º dia - sábado)

As portas do aeroporto abriram e lá fora a temperatura era asfixiante: 32 graus Celsius à sombra e uma humidade de transpirar. O carro que nos levou para Galle era um Toyota parecido com a primeira versão do Corolla Hatchback, com ar condicionado (graças a Deus!) e volante à direita. No Sri Lanka utilizam o mesmo sistema de condução que no Reino Unido, o que significa que tudo funciona ao contrário.

Há soldados por todo o lado. Embora todo este aparato devesse fazer-nos sentir seguros, a verdade é que nos sentimos mais stressados do que aliviados, e as brigadas à beira da estrada, a mandarem parar os veículos aleatoriamente, não ajudam nada a que nos sintamos melhor.

O tráfico é infernal! Precisaria, certamente, de encher duas páginas para explicar como é que as coisas funcionam nestas estradas. Como não tenho tempo, vou fazê-lo da maneira mais rápida e clara: no Sri Lanka NÃO HÁ regras de trânsito. A estrada está cheia de “tuk-tuks”, também chamados “three-wheelers”, motos com três rodas, com a velocidade máxima de 40 km/hora. Depois há os autocarros, mais velhos do que o Gandhi e muito ruidosos. Os condutores só conhecem duas formas de conduzir: acelerar a fundo e travar a fundo. A regra de ouro parece ser buzinar. Se alguém vier na nossa direcção no lado errado da estrada, buzinamos; se alguém quiser ultrapassar, buzina; se um peão estiver a atravessar a estrada, mesmo que ainda esteja bem longe de nós, buzinamos; se chegar a um cruzamento, adivinhem o que devem fazer… Claro! Buzinar. O nosso condutor, o Sr. Wilfred, fez uma média de duas buzinadelas por minuto. Como demorámos mais de três horas de Colombo até Galle (116 km de distância), o número de “bip-bips” deve ter chegado aos 400. E tudo isto aconteceu num sábado, entre as 9h00 e as 12h15, nada a ver com o que acontece durante a semana às horas de ponta.

Enfim… estava enjoadíssimo! Depois de apenas 30 minutos na estrada só me apetecia vomitar. A estratégia foi olhar em frente, fixando um espaço vazio imaginário, e não me mexer durante toda a viagem. Dentro de mim, o estômago fervia, e a cada travagem as tonturas aumentavam. A Catarina também não estava a aguentar. Mas enquanto eu vinha sentado à frente, ela ia atrás, o que é muito pior. Além disso, já vinha enjoada do voo. Deitou-se no banco, fechou os olhos e não se mexeu durante toda a viagem.

Chegámos a casa do Janaka (a casa que iria também ser nossa durante os próximos 50 dias) num lastimável estado de enjoo. Quando saímos do carro era como se estivéssemos de pé dentro de um barquinho insuflável, de criança. A mulher do Janaka, “Manel” (sim, Manel é nome de mulher), cumprimentou-nos à entrada de casa e deu-nos um copo com sumo de laranja. Eu não consegui beber. Estava cada vez mais enjoado, e o cheiro do incenso tornava tudo ainda mais difícil. Tive de sair para o exterior e sentei-me nos degraus. A Catarina estava a recuperar e explicou-lhe o que estava a acontecer comigo, já que eu era incapaz de dizer uma palavra que fosse.

Passámos o resto da tarde no quarto, a descansar da viagem. O quarto é enorme e está lindamente decorado. A casa de banho também é muito espaçosa. Não há água quente, mas qual é o problema? Com temperaturas tão altas, água fria é o que mais ansiamos. Lá fora, parece que vivemos numa selva tropical. Há palmeiras carregadas de cocos, muita vegetação estranha e, ocasionalmente, macacos a saltar de arvora em árvore.

Ao fim da tarde, Janaka leva-nos ao seu Hotel para uma refeição especial. O Hotel é bonito, construído numa filosofia de espaço aberto, mesmo junto ao mar. Segundo Janaka, o Hotel sobreviveu ao Tsunami por ser um espaço aberto que permitiu que a água passasse livremente sem criar demasiada pressão em paredes e pilares. Tivemos uma longa e simpática conversa e comemos que nem reis.

Sri Lanka (2º dia - domingo)

No dia seguinte, acordámos por volta das 10h00, mesmo a tempo de tomarmos um pequeno almoço de fruta e omeleta. Encontrámos o Nick, voluntário de 18 anos, treinador de futebol, com a mãe, Elizabeth, que tinha vindo para o Sri Lanka para tratamentos homeopáticos.

Catarina playing with Koeli

Também fomos apresentados aos filhos de Janaka: Samadi (rapariga, 11 anos), Sandali (rapariga, 7 anos), Seth (rapaz, 4 anos e meio) e Cueiley (rapariga, 3 anos). São crianças amorosas e sorridentes. Koeli tem uns olhos surpreendentemente lindos e fala imenso (embora nós não entendamos uma palavra do que ela diz); Seth tornou-se a nossa sombra, passando o tempo à nossa volta quando estamos em casa; Sandali tem uma beleza exótica e é a mais tranquila dos quatro; Samadi á a mais velha, uma menina muito simpática, sempre pronta a ajudar. Samadi e Sandali são as únicas que falam um pouco de Inglês. Seth e Koeli só conhecem uma ou outra palavra em Inglês.

Durante a tarde, fomos conhecer o Padre Superior do Templo daquela área, lugar onde eu passaria a dar as aulas de fotografia. O Templo é pequeno, simples, e as paredes exteriores são amarelas. Dentro é realmente singelo. Cerca de três salas de aula, salas para jogos e pouco mais que algumas cadeiras e mesas. Uma das salas tem uma grande estátua do Buda, onde se fazem as ofertas. No andar de cima, também há uma pequena biblioteca, criada pelo Janaka de Silva e Ann Chawner, simbolicamente chamada “Tsunami Memorial Library”. Dentro das salas de aula, as janelas não têm vidros e a brisa corre constantemente.

Quando fomos apresentados ao Padre Superior, tivemos de ajoelhar, curvar-nos numa vénia e fazer uma oferta (flores e incenso) à estátua do Buda. Faz parte da cultura budista proceder assim a primeira vez que se entra num Templo. O Padre Superior é muito simpático e fala imenso. Fala um Inglês que, não sendo bom, dá para manter conversas interessantes. No Templo há mais cinco monges, quase todos jovens adultos. Quatro vieram do Nepal e um é do Sri Lanka. Os monges nepaleses têm idades entre os 16 e os 18 anos. O monge singalês tem 21 anos.

Numa das salas de aula estavam já 15 alunos à espera da anunciada introdução às aulas de fotografia. O Padre Superior falou no início, em Singalês, a seguir o Janaka fez também um curto discurso e depois eu apresentei resumidamente o plano dos estudos.

À hora do jantar, o Janaka deu-nos o horário da semana, para analisarmos e debatermos. Vai ser uma semana em cheio.

Como já estávamos muito cansados, fomos cedo para a cama.

Volunteering in Sri Lanka - Finally, Sri Lanka!

Sun, 19 Jul 2009 21:10:23 -0800

Initial Note: I had a lot of pictures to post, but the available internet connection at the moment is really bad. It would take me about 5 minutes to upload just one small photo. I hope to have this problem solved next week.

This 2 last days in Sri Lanka have been filled with new experiences, there is so much to say it is hard to compile everything in a small text message.

I will try to deliver the news as fast as possible. For now, you can read the story of the remaining flight adventures.

Nota Inicial: Como estou a escrever atraves de um teclado Cingales, nao me vai ser possivel incluir os acentos.

Tinha varias fotografias para apresentar juntamente com esta entrada de blog, mas a ligacao a internet e tao lenta que uma simples fotografia de pequena dimensao iria demorar 5 minutos para carregar. Espero ter este problema resolvido na proxima semana.

Estes ultimos 2 dias no Sri Lanka tem sido impressionantes, cheios de novas experiencias. Ha tanto para dizer que se torna dificil compilar tudo numa mensagem de texto.

Tentarei enviar-vos as ultimas noticias sempre que possivel. Para ja, deixo-vos com as aventuras finais do resto do voo.

English Readers:

The plane transporting us to London was not from TAP, but from PGA. Our first time flying on PGA, and also the first time flying in this kind of plane, a Fokker 100. The plane is slightly smaller than the AirBus A310 and feels very crampy inside.

The flight to London started reasonable well, a bit shaky perhaps, but crossing the Channel all the way to London was probably the worst flying experience we ever had. The plane felt like a milk-shaker, and the thought of pieces falling from it crossed my mind. For those who know my odd passenger car sickness, you can easily imagine how horrible it felt; I had to make a big effort to avoid puking. Now I understand why they named the plane "Fokker".

Airport N. 2

The news from Gatwick Airport were not that great too. We were starving and, at 22h45, only the sandwich machines seemed to be delivering. After a while we found a nice Coffee Shop called Nero. The bar was well decorated, with confortable sofas and round tables. Some people were already sleeping there, a good sign that the place felt warm and cozy. We ate a meat sandwich and drunk a nice fresh natural orange juice. There was also free water with ice.

It was late and we were both tired, but we couldn't sleep at the same time; someone had to look over the baggage. Catarina went to sleep, and I stayed awake all night, writing, reading and taking care of our stuff.

In the morning I was dead tired, Catarina took over and I was able to sleep one hour.

At about 7h45 we went to make the check-in to Doha (Qatar), our last connection before arriving in Sri Lanka. The problems with the excess baggage persisted, but this time we were able to solve them more quickly and without spending money (courtesy of Qatar Airways).

It looked like the things were getting better, but it didn't last long. One minute after getting inside the plane, we realized that there was a small bag missing. It was small, but most of my documents, including pocket money, credit card, driver's license and other valuable documents were inside. Catarina rushed outside the plane to find the bag, with no luck. One of the Qatar Airways Hostesses we met during the check-in was there and helped Catarina, phoning to every Airport control unit. They eventually found it in the x-ray machine area. Fortunately there was a flight delay, and all this incident went almost unnoticed.

The flight to Qatar was nice and comfortable. The plane was a luxurious Airbus 340 with oversized seats and independent TV sets. Each TV set is connected to a server that allows to choose between several visual entertainments: music, movies, tv shows, games, maps, etc., so there was plenty to see. The food menu was typical of arab countries, with lots of condiment and spice. None of us are used to this kind of food and, althought it didn't taste bad, we had mixed feelings regarding the effects on the stomach.

Airport N. 3

We arrived at Qatar already at night. Inside the airport there was an astonishing culture diversity: Arabs, Indians, Japanese, Chinese, European, etc. In the Departures Screen you could see cities like: Dubai, Osaka, Milan, London, Colombo, Melbourne, Xangai, and so many other distant destinations. Qatar is a country with 1.3 million people, rich in resources like Oil and Natural Gas. It's also in the center of the Middle East, and so, it is basically in the middle of the World, the pale frontier that divides East and Western countries. Doha airport is, as such, mostly a connection airport.

The "duty free" area is unlike any other, unless you are used to see an Aston Martin DB9 or a top of the line Mercedes on display, with kids touching, feeling, and almost climbing the car, with no one mildly cared about eventual damages. The service areas are also quite uncommon, with toiletes for men, women and mosque women (muslim dressed women); "Quiet Room", "Smoking Room" and "Prayer Room".

We spent the last few hours before departure watching the variety of dresses, colours and features of people walking along, and even got to see a man trying to go up on a "down-flow" rolling-stair, convinced that it was the right way to do it. After some hints from bypassers, he decided to try the "up-flow" rolling-stairs just beside him, timing the jump to get it right. The timing was about right, the balance was about... wrong. It was a nasty fall, but he managed to get there.

Final Flight

The flight that would take us to the final destination was on schedule and, this time, everything went right... no bags lost and no excess baggage to be worried with. The plane was an Airbus 320, also from Qatar Airways, not so fancy as the last one but still ok.

We were tired, very tired, and most of the flight was spent sleeping. One hour before landing in Colombo, Catarina started feeling sick. There was some turbulence and she wasn't dealing well with it. She arrived at the aiport very dizzy, with some headaches.

I tried to cheer her up with the amazing sceneries seen from the plane window, pointing out to the never ending palm trees, huge tea plantations and colorful rustic houses. But she preferred to kept her eyes closed, managing the dizziness.

Airport N. 4 (Colombo)

Colombo airport was small but nice, with all the basic needs. The first "need" after a flight is, of course, the bathroom. Similarly to Doha Airport, you didn't have a brush to wipe the dirty stuff from it, you had a shower. Much cleaner and nicer. But, just like in Doha Airport, the ceramics were old and old fashioned. To complete the fancy picture, you then had an identified man that gives you toilet paper to clean hands after washing. It was a bit odd, especially when he asked for money afterwards. I gave him 50 cents (euros), but he didn't look too happy with such a "small" amount. He then asked for 5 euros, but I thought it was a bit too much for a "toilet holder".

Arriving at the check-out counter, we had to deliver the filled health and immigration forms given to us inside the plane. Suddenly, a song started playing in the speakers, and everyone freezed. During about 3 minutes, no one moved, no one blinked, the World was on "pause". The song finished, and everyone got back to whatever they were doing, just like nothing had happened.

It was a fast, easy, no-thrills check-out, and we got the 30 day visa.

We got the bags and went straight to the "arrivals" lounge, where a man was waiting for us with a neat "Goncalo" sign. Welcome to Sri Lanka!

Leitores Portugueses:

O avião que nos transportou para Londres não era da TAP, mas sim da PGA. Foi a primeira vez que voamos na PGA e também a primeira vez que voamos neste tipo de avião, um Fokker 100. O avião é ligeiramente mais pequeno que um AirBus 310 e o espaço interior é apertado e espartano.

O voo para Londres começou bem, embora com alguma turbulência, mas a travessia do Canal da Mancha foi uma experiência traumatizante. A turbulência foi tanta que o avião mais parecia uma batedeira, e chegamos mesmo a pensar que o avião se ia partir aos bocados. Comecei a ficar muito enjoado, e pouco faltou para vomitar. Agora compreendo porque é que o avião se chama "Fokker".

Aeroporto N. 2

No aeroporto de Gatwick, Londres, as notícias não foram muito melhores. Chegamos por volta das 22h45, já estava quase tudo fechado e a fome começava a apertar. Depois de algum tempo a procurar, encontramos um café com bom aspecto, o Nero. O café tinha uma decoração engraçada, com sofás grandes e confortáveis e pequenas mesas redondas. Algumas pessoas já dormiam nos sofás, um bom sinal de que o local era confortável e aconchegado. Comemos uma sandwich de carne e bebemos um sumo de laranja natural. Havia também água com gelo à descrição.

Era tarde e estavamos muito cansados, mas não podiamos dormir ao mesmo tempo; alguém tinha que ficar a tomar conta da bagagem. A Catarina foi dormir, e eu fiquei acordado a noite toda, a escrever, a ler e a tomar conta das coisas.

De manhã estava de rastos. A Catarina substituíu-me e consegui assim dormir uma horita.

Por volta das 7h45 fomos fazer o check-in para Doha (Qatar), a última ligação antes de chegarmos ao Sri Lanka. Os problemas com o excesso de bagagem persistiram, mas desta vez fomos capazes de resolvê-los mais depressa e sem gastar dinheiro (cortesia da Qatar Airways).

Parecia que as coisas estavem a ficar melhor, mas foi Sol de pouca dura. Um minuto depois de entrarmos no avião, percebemos que faltava uma pequena sacola. Era pequena, mas a maior parte dos meus documentos estavam lá dentro, incluíndo dinheiro, cartão de crédito e carta de condução. A Catarina correu para fora do avião para tentar encontrar o saco, mas sem sucesso. Uma das hospedeiras da Qatar Airways que conhecemos durante o check-in estava lá e prontificou-se a ajudar a Catarina. Telefonou para os vários departamentos do aeroporto, e conseguiu descobrir o paradeiro da sacola - estava na zona das máquinas de raio-X. Felizmente o voo estava atrasado, e o incidente passou despercebido.

O voo para o Qatar foi bastante confortável, o melhor de toda a viagem. O avião era um luxuoso Airbus 340 com bancos sobre-dimensionados e pequenos ecrãs de televisão independentes. Cada televisão está conectada um servidor que permite a selecção de vários entertenimentos visuais: música, filmes, programas de televisão, mapas, etc. Havia muito par a ver. A ementa era típica dos países árabes, com muito condimento e especiarias. Nenhum de nós está habituado a este tipo de comida e, embora não tivesse um sabor desagradável, não estavamos muito seguros relativamente aos efeitos secundários no nosso estômago.

Aeroporto N. 3

Chegamos ao Qatar ainda de noite. Dentro do aeroporto havia uma impressionante variedade de culturas: Árabes, Indianos, Japoneses, Chineses, Europeus, etc. No monitor das partidas via-se cidades como: Dubai, Osaka, Milão, Londres, Colombo, Melbourne, Xangai, e tantos outros destinos. O Qatar é um país com cerca de 1,3 milhões de habitantes, rico em recursos naturais, como o Petróleo e o Gás Natural. Está também situado no centro do Médio Oriente, e por isso está basicamente no centro do Mundo. Doha é, como tal, um aeroporto de ligação para a maior parte do vôos.

A zona de "duty free" é diferente de todas as outras, a não ser que estejam habituados a ver um Aston Martin DB9 ou um Mercedes topo de gama em exposição, com crianças a tocar e praticamente a subir para cima do carro, sem niguém minimamente preocupado com eventuais danos. As áreas de serviço são também fora do comum, com casas de banho para homens, mulheres e mulheres com vestes islâmicas; Sala de Repouso, Sata de Fumadores e Sala de Oração.

Passamos as últimas horas antes da partida a observar a variedade de vestes, cores e feições das pessoas que iam passando, e vimos ainda um homem a tentar subir escadas rolantes no sentido contrário, convencido de que seria a forma correcta de o fazer. Só após a insistência de algumas pessoas é que o homem se decidiu a tentar subir as escadas pelo sentido correcto. Calculou com precisão o ponto e o tempo de entrada nas escadas, e deu um salto. Os cálculos até nem sairam muito ao lado, mas falou o equilíbrio, e o homem mandou um valente malho. Mesmo assim, conseguiu chegar lá acima.

Último Voo

O voo que nos iria levar ao último destino estava dentro do horário e, desta vez, tudo correu bem... não perdemos nenhum saco nem tivemos problemas de excesso de bagagem. O avião, um Airbus 320, também da Qatar Airways, não era tão confortável como o anterior, mas também não era tão mau como um "Fokker 100".

Estavamos muito cansados, e a maior parte do voo foi passado a dormir. Uma hora antes de aterrarmos em Colombo a Catarina começou a sentir-se enjoada. Havia alguma turbulência e isso estava a afectá-la. Chegou ao aeroporto bastante enjoada e com dores de cabeça.

Tentei animá-la, apontando para as paisagens espectaculares que se estavam a ver do avião (plantações de chá, de palmeiras e casas rústicas), há medida que sobrevoavamos o Sri Lanka. Mas ainda assim preferiu manter os olhos fechados, tentanto controlar o enjoo.

Aeroporto N. 4 (Colombo)

O Aeroporto de Colombo é pequeno, mas agradável. Tem tudo aquilo que é necessário. A primeira necessidade após um longo vôo é, naturalmente, a casa de banho. Tal como no Aeroporto de Doha, não existem escovas para limpar as retretes. Em vez disso, têm pequenos chuveiros. Muito mais limpo e bem mais agradável. Mas, tal como no Aerporto de Doha, são casas de banho velhas e um pouco mal tratadas. Para completar a caricatura, havia um homem, devidamente identificado, que segurava um rolo de papel higiénico para quando acabassemos de lavar as mãos. A situação era estranha, especialmente quando depois começou a pedir dinheiro. Dei-lhe 50 cêntimos de euro, mas não me pareceu muito satisfeito. De seguida pediu-me 5 euros. Achei que era pedir demais por um "apoio de papel higiénico". Fiquei-me pelos 50 cêntimos e um sorriso de agradecimento.

Já no balcão de check-out, e segundos antes de entregarmos os documentos preenchidos que nos tinham dado no avião, começa a ouvir-se uma canção nos auscultadores do aeroporto. Os funcionários param todos de fazer o que estavam a fazer, e permanecem imóveis, de cabeça erguida. Passados 3 minutos, voltam ao trabalho, tal como se nada tivesse acontecido.

Acabou por ser o check-out mais rápido e eficaz. Entregamos os papéis, fizeram-nos algumas perguntas e de seguida carimbaram-nos o passaporte com um visa válido por 30 dias. Passamos pelas máquinas que detectam sinais da Gripe A no nosso corpo, e por uma grande quantidade de militares equipados com metralhadoras, e fomos para a sala de recepção de bagagem.

Pegamos na bagagem e saímos. Na zona das chegadas estava o "chauffer" à nossa espera, com uma placa a dizer "Gonçalo". E assim entramos no Sri Lanka!

Volunteering in Sri Lanka - Airport Nº 1

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 17:43:06 -0800

Para ler a versão em português, seleccionar "read more" no link que se encontra no fim da mensagem.

English Readers:

Last time we met I was quite confident with the last minute preparations. Everything seemed to go according to plan. Last time we met... yeah, I was still at the computer pressing the send button.

Afterwards, I went upstairs to see how Catarina was doing with the baggage. It was chaaaaaaotic... unimaginable chaotic. I knew we were taking a lot of "stuff". It's comprehensible, we were going to stay in Sri Lanka 2 months. Somewhere between planning the things and making them happen something went awfully wrong. We had too much, and even the super-gigantic-extra-sized bags we proudly bought were too small for everything. But we did it, the zips locked and two strong man were enough to carry each bag to the car. The only concern now was guaranteeing that the car suspension handled the way to the airport. It did! We're in!

Time for check-in. With reenergized strength I was able to pick up the bags by myself and put them in the check-in mat. The man behind the counter gave me a strange look. "Hummmm..." he said, "you're carrying 30 kg of excess baggage". I gave him a surprised look: "Really??? I had no idea", I said. He then went to explain that with over 30 kg in each bag we would never be able to pick them in London (apparently they have a 30 kg restriction). Solution: we had to take has much as possible from the bags and buy some carry bags to put the extra weight. And you know what?? There is a bookstore inside the airport that sells bags for extra weight. They look a lot like those bags you get as a gift when buying a sun lotion, but these cost 15 euros. 15 euros!!!! When we start shifting the extra weight to this "don't know who called them carry bags" we realized that when they meant "extra-weight" bags they were probably referring to pocket-books, mobile phones or nail cutters, not 30 kg of extra-weight.

"extra weight" bags

Back to the check-in. Let's see how we were now? 26 kg in one bag, 25 kg in the other. Much better. The lovely man behind the counter gave another strange look. "Yes??" I asked inquisitive. "Well, you will have to pay for each extra kilo above 20 kg" he said. We did manage to get rid of the "extra-weight" above the 30 kg London limitation, but not the 20 kg TAP limitation. "How much?" I asked. "11 euros for each kilo" he said. My face went white!!! 11 euros per kilo??? Anyway... he was friendly enough to make us a discount and we "only" had to pay 75 euros of excess baggage. Add to that the 15 euros for each of the two bags bought, and it makes 105 euros. Not bad for the first airport.

Now let's proceed to the X-Ray machines. Another lovely lady. "You will have to take out any computer you might have inside the bags and or camera equipment" she demanded. I started by taking out the 2 notebooks and then opened the camera bag. She looked inside with an interested look and, with that kind of smile that only security ladies can deliver, she demanded: "You will have to take out everything". Which I did. 10 minutes later, after putting everything back, it was another 10 minutes to get to the gate 11, the starting point of our "well-borned" journey.

Leitores Portugueses:

Da última vez que falamos mostrei-me bastante confiante relativamente aos últimos preparativos. Tudo decorria de acordo com o esperado. Da última vez que falamos eu ainda nem tinha saído do computador. O saco de fotografia estava arrumado, mas tudo o resto ainda estava em processamento.

Subi ao andar de cima para ver como estava a Catarina a dar-se com as arrumações. Para meu espanto, encontrei um caos... um verdadeiro caos. Sabia que levavamos bastantes coisas. É compreensível, iamos ficar 2 meses no Sri Lanka. Mas algo correu mal nos nossos planos, estavamos visivelmente sobrecarregados. As gigantescas malas que tinhamos comprado para o efeito pareciam maletinhas ao pé de tanta "tralha".

Mas conseguimos, pusemos tudo lá dentro e, com algum esforço, corremos os fechos. Para carregar cada mala para o carro foram necessárias duas pessoas. Grande carro... aguentou com o peso de 2 Pavarottis até ao aeroporto.

Entramos no aeroporto e fomos directos ao balcão de check-in. Com as forças recuperadas, peguei em cada uma das malas e poisei-as no tapete rolante. O homem por trás do balcão fez-me um olhar estranho. "Hummmm..." disse ele, "levam 30 kg de peso a mais". Olhei para ele com um ar surpreso: "A sério?? Não fazia ideia nenhuma", disse eu muito seriamente. Prontificou-se a explicar que as nossas malas nunca sairiam de Londres se excedessem um patamar de 30 kg. Solução: teríamos que tirar o máximo possível de cada uma das malas e comprar sacos de mão para distribuir o peso extra. E sabem que mais?? Existe uma papelaria / livraria no aeroporto que vende sacos de mão especificamente para este tipo de casos. São muito parecidos com aqueles sacos que vêm de brinde na compra de um bronzeador, só que estes custam 15 euros cada. E a avaliar pelo tipo de material, custa-me a acreditar que possam aguentar com mais de 5 kg de peso, quanto mais com 30 kg.

gate 11

De volta ao check-in. Vamos lá a ver se já passa. 26 kg numa mala, 25 kg na outra. Muito melhor, O homem por trás do balcão volta a mostrar-me aquele estranho olhar. Oh diabo, pensei eu... vem aí coisa. "Sim??" disse-lhe eu um pouco inseguro. "Bom, é que agora vão ter que pagar por cada kilo acima dos 20 kg", disse ele. Conseguimos safar-nos da restrição imposta por Londres relativamente a malas com mais de 30 kg de peso, mas não nos safamos da restrição de 20 kg imposta pela TAP. "Quanto é que isso nos vai custar?", perguntei eu. "11 euros por kilo" disse ele. Fico branco de repente... 11 euros por kilo??? O homem teve pena de nós e decidiu fazer um desconto, teríamos que pagar "somente" 75 euros pelo excesso de peso. Se a isso adicionarmos os 15 euros por cada um dos 2 sacos de mão comprados, totalizamos 105 euros. Nada mal para o primeiro aeroporto da viagem.

Passada esta primeira fase, chegou a altura das máquinas de raio-X. Desta vez calhou-nos uma senhora "simpática". "Façam o favor de retirar qualquer computador ou máquina fotográfica que tenham nos sacos e mochilas", disse ela. Comecei por retirar os 2 portáteis e abri de seguida o saco da fotografia. Ela olhou lá para dentro com um ar interessado e, com aquele tipo de sorriso que só um segurança é capaz de esboçar, disse: "vai ter que tirar tudo para fora". Passados cerca de 10 minutos a tirar todo o material e a voltá-lo a pôr no sítio, foram precisos mais 10 minutos para chegar à porta de embarque número 11, o ponto de partida para a nossa "já abençoada" viagem.

Volunteering in Sri Lanka - Departure

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 06:11:29 -0800

Para ler a versão em português, seleccionar "read more" no link que se encontra no fim da mensagem.

English Readers:

It is time to make a pause on my Greek adventure tales, and start a new thread dedicated to my next adventure, now with Catarina.

A few months ago we were looking for places to volunteer, mainly in developing countries where help is always in high demand. After searching for projects in almost every Continent, we selected a few and ended up choosing the Sri Lanka Tsunami project.

Before the Tsunami that swept the Sri Lankan coast on the 27th of December 2004, Janaka de Silva, a native from the South Coast, created a project dedicated to help the local poor communities, especially children. The focus of the project was to provide education and facilities to kids without access to school. Many of them work 7 days a week, 12 hours a day to help on the economical support of their families, and this initiative provided them with the means to get some education. But with the calamity that devastated most of the East and South coasts of Sri Lanka, and the consequent loss of his parents, Janaka channeled all the project resources to the rebuilding of houses. A few years after, Ann Chawner, a British lady with a long curriculum creating, managing and developing volunteer initiatives, found about the previous project, got passionate about it, and volunteered to help bring it back to life. It is now called the Tsunami Memorial Library.

So here we are, almost packed and eager to get on the plane. 5 hours before departure.

The planning and organizing tasks started about a month ago. Since then we attended the Travelers Medical Consultation and received two vaccinations, for polio and yellow fever; we were also prescribed with several preventive medications; I went to get an International Drivers License; our both passports had to be updated; new clothes and shoes for the humid and hot weather; anti-mosquito spray; teaching material, some donated from english schools nearby, the other from friends or ordered from Amazon to deal with special requests; photographic equipment, loads of it... too much to be mentioned; computers, drives and other technological gizmos; special hand washer liquid (prevention for H1N1) - a gift from my parents; books, mobile phones and of course, money. We are probably taking some other things, but I'm already suffering from travel anxiety and my memory is not working at its best.

We arrive in Colombo, the Capital of Sri Lanka, Saturday morning. Yes, that's correct, it is a 2 day journey to get there... a special "recipe" that we found to avoid higher flighting costs.

Fist flight, Oporto - London. Almost... almost there! We will tell about the other flights later. Check the blog often to get the latest news.

You can also follow our adventure on twitter, facebook and flickr.

Leitores Portugueses:

Chegou a altura de fazer uma pausa no relato das minhas aventuras pela Grécia, e começar um novo relato, dedicado à minha próxima aventura. Desta vez, na companhia da Catarina.

Há alguns meses atrás começamos a fazer pesquisa sobre locais onde se desenvolvessem projectos de voluntariado. A nossa ideia era participar num projecto, num país do Terceiro Mundo, com uma forte componente social e educativa. Seleccionamos alguns projectos e acabamos por escolher um projecto no Sri Lanka.

Antes do Tsunami que varreu a costa do Sri Lanka no dia 27 de Dezembro de 2004, Janaka de Silva, nativo do Sul do Sri Lanka, criou e desenvolveu um projecto dedicado a ajudar as comunidades pobres, especialmente crianças. O objectivo do projecto era permitir o acesso à educação a crianças desfavorecidas e instalações para a leccionamento das aulas. Muitas destas crianças trabalham 7 dias por semana e 12 por dia para ajudarem a suportar economicamente as suas famílias, e esta iniciativa permitia-lhes o acesso a uma educação que de outra forma nunca teriam. Com a calamidade que assolou as costas Este e Sul do Sri Lanka, vitimando os seus pais, o Janaka canalizou todos os recursos do anterior projecto na reconstrução de casas. Alguns anos depois, uma senhora britânica chamada Ann Chawnner, com um vasto currículo na criação e desenvolvimento de iniciativas humanitárias, ficou a saber do antigo projecto e apaixonou-se por ele. Juntamente com o Janaka, reactivaram-no e passaram a acolher voluntários. Passou a chamar-se "Tsunami Memorial Library".

Está praticamente tudo arrumado e já estamos ansiosos por começar a nossa viagem. 5 horas antes da partida.

A planificação e organização da viagem começou há cerca de um mês atrás. Desde então já fomos à "Consulta do Viajante", onde recebemos duas vacinas (polio e febre amarela) e onde fomos informados sobre o Dengue, a Malária e, naturalmente, a Gripe A.; fomos também a uma consulta do Médico de Família, onde nos foram receitados medicamentos para as maleitas mais comuns (um agradecimento ao Dr. Mário); aproveitei para pedir a Licença Internacional de Condução (mais tarde saberão porquê fizemos a actualização dos nossos passaportes; compramos roupa e sapatos novos, mais adequados às condições do Sri Lanka (temperaturas altas e muita humidade); spray anti-mosquito; material de ensino, doado pelo Instituto Britânico de Braga (um agradecimento pela generosidade), algum material oferecido por amigos (obrigado a todos), e algumas comprinhas feitas pela Amazon como resposta a alguns pedidos especiais; muito equipamento fotográfico; computadores, drives e outra miscelânia tecnológica; líquido de limpeza de mãos, ideal como prevenção ao vírus H1N1 - não necessita de água nem de secagem (uma oferta dos meus pais); telemóveis e, claro, dinheiro. Vamos certamente levar outras coisas, mas como já começo a sofrer de ansiedade pré-viagem, a memória não colabora. Se entretanto me ocorrer, acrescento na próxima entrada de blog.

Chegamos a Colombo, Capital do Sri Lanka, no Sábado de manhã. Pois, é verdade, 2 dias de viagem... é o que acontece quando me pôem a organizar as coisas . Na realidade, foi a única forma que se arranjou de reduzir os custos e de conseguir a viagem para os dias que tinhamos planeado.

Primeiro voo, Porto - Londres. Estamos quase lá! Diremos qual o próximo destino na próxima mensagem. O blog vai sendo actualizado regularmente. Visitem sempre que possível para obter as últimas notícias.

Podem também seguir as nossas aventuras no twitter, facebook e flickr.

Adventure in Greece - Chapter II

Sun, 5 Jul 2009 12:32:03 -0800

The small journey to Madrid ends up being safe enough for a smooth landing and a round of applauses, a clear sign that everyone is happy to be alive.

27th of July, 09:45, Barajas Airport, Madrid, Spain

The Airport is surprisingly calm, inviting for a confortable and pleasant walk along the corridors and open spaces; my stomach, on the other hand, is already growling, demanding some attention. I pay 3.75€ for a cheese and ham sandwich and 1.40€ for a 50cl water bottle. A quick trip to the bathroom reveals some nice touches, everything looks very clean, the liquid soap containers are not empty, and there is plenty of paper to dry your hands. But the good news stops just about there. The plane to Greece is 1 hour late due to a technical problem, and the grumbling from the impacient passengers echoes in the lounge. A Portuguese couple is complaining vigorously, afraid they will arrive too late to visit the "Akropole", which closes at 19h00. After a while, everything settles... the flight is ready. The plane is as old and rusty as the previous one, and after being informed that the problem was a broken piece that had to be replaced, my confidence drops to the lowest level since the start of the journey.

My seat is by the window; on my left there is an empty seat, and the third one is occupied by a Spanish teenage girl. Both of us make use of the empty seat to put books, mp3 players and all the "junk" that everyone usually carries around; I also put my food tray on the seat as soon as I finish the meal. The girl watches and decides to do the same, but somewhere between picking up the tray and landing it safely, her leg kicks the tray and everything goes airborn, with rests of food, greasy boxes and unfinished drinks decorating our row of seats. The girls face turns yellow, then red, then... I promptly help to clean and pick up the things before it turns any other color.

The plane is, after all the initial incidents, up to the task and crosses the skies of Greece with comfortable safety. The first signs that we are entering Greek territory are pretty obvious - the sky is clear and, even from such an high altitude, I'm able to see many little islands, beautiful stretches of sand and the wake of big cargo boats. After a while, the plane lands. At last... Greece!

To be continued...

Winner of the Grand Prize in the WeSay Contest

Sun, 5 Jul 2009 11:58:09 -0800

Shopping vs "Digicaming"

Thu, 28 May 2009 03:13:33 -0800

April Holiday Velvet Competition Winner

Mon, 11 May 2009 05:04:19 -0800

Adventure in Greece - Chapter I (Departure)

Sat, 2 May 2009 04:07:17 -0800

Introduction

It was the year 2006 and I remember it as if it was today. It could be just another calendar ripped out from the wall, a sequence of daily routines easily forgotten, things that just don't really make a difference. But no, nothing of the sort! I don't think I've ever had a "bad" year - those that you just want to forget - but this one... this one topped them all. In a time span of only 5 months I embarked in one of the most incredible adventures of my life, got married to the most beautiful girl, went on a honeymoon to a fantastic place, turned 30 and became Junior Consultant in the Department of Innovation of a big company. But, for the sake of this story, and to keep all things photographically fenced, I won’t go beyond the "incredible adventure of my life" in the land of the Gods - Greece.

It was around April, when the first rays of light started to shine through, that I felt the urge, the sudden inspiration to do something different. And, this being a turning point in my life, due to the upcoming wedding, I was struggling with existential doubts regarding my future liberty and the loss of my bachelor status. I had to do something big, something that could ease up my mind and free the rebellion of my spirit. I started looking for places that fitted my personal criteria: cheap to fly into, cheap to "live" in, easy to move around, photographically appealing, challenging and wild. To make things easier, I also searched for local connections within the on-line hospitality communities of which I have been a member for some time now. After about a month analyzing the possibilities, I ended up choosing Greece.

The planning was short and loose, not too elaborate or specific. The idea was to go with the flow, decide along the way, and be open to change. I bought the return ticket to Athens, reserved a ticket on the ferry departing from Piraeus to Heraklion, arranged a place to stay as a hospitality guest in Heraklion for the first night and... that was it. My baggage was a large 75lt backpack filled with clothes, some camping material, like pans, cutlery and flashlight; a small backpack with books, a diary, writing tools, and a flask; a Stealth Reporter AW 300 camera bag with photographic equipment; and... a big tripod. Yep, I wasn't travelling light at all and I learned the lesson the hard way. Rookie!

Chapter I - Departure

26th of July, 23:30, Braga, Portugal

Catarina, my wife, drives me to the bus station. After all the "not allowed to be mentioned" goodbyes and farewells, and now on my own, I grab my bags and go straight to the bus lane to Lisbon. The driver looks surprised at all the baggage and the less than discrete tripod and asks: "Are you going to Lebanon?" (the war between Israel and Lebanon had just begun). "Hey, José, look at this" he yelled to a friend, pointing to the tripod, "he already has the stand for the machine gun". I go with the gag, and I reply: "Yep, that's it, and if you ask too many questions I will have to get the machine gun from the backpack". After a good laughter, we take our places in the bus... and so began the first part of the journey. Slept all the way to Lisbon.

27th of July, 4:40 am, Lisbon Airport, Portugal

We often see human acts that go beyond belief, although sometimes there is a reasonable explanation. This time, the only explanation I can figure for a lady trying to pass her cat through the X-Ray machine of the baggage check-in gate has to be the late hour. Come on, at almost 5 am... the lady is obviously missing a late supper or a morning tea! Or maybe she really wants to get rid of the cat.

But my worries now go to the tripod. I was told before that tripods of a certain size are not allowed inside the plane. If mine was rejected I would have to go back to a section of the airport where they deal with non-standard equipment and provide specific packaging. It would cost me money, but above all it would cost me time, which I didn't have. Fortunately, it went through with a mild warning. Thank God I brought my smallest tripod. If it was the Manfrotto, I would probably have to leave it behind. So, lesson n. 1, if you take a tripod with you on a flight, get to the airport as early as possible and check-in any non-standard material you may have.

The plane is a small McDonald-Douglas from Iberia. It's old, rusty and doesn't look reliable at all. The Captain has a moustache and I could swear I've seen him before in a cowboy's movie. So, here I am, heading to Madrid (connection flight) in a piece of junk with a cowboy as a pilot. What are the chances of success?

To be continued...

There is still a chance for them...

Mon, 13 Apr 2009 14:23:32 -0800

Today I was browsing some old archives and decided to have a look at the "unsorted" dated folders, the place where I usually put the pics I really don't care for or that I think are not worth the effort of sorting and editing. Most of this folders just stay there in the "dust", till I decide to wipe them due to lack of disk space. I like this process because it allows me to keep the good stuff and get rid of all the junk we all eventually end up collecting.

Anyway, I was in one of those revival moments and thought it would be interesting to see some of my previous work. I still thought it was pretty much "junk" material, but this time I decided to pick some and have a go on the "editing table".

I chose two pictures from the set. After the finishing touches, this is what I ended up getting.

Girl and Dog

Before

After

The "girl and dog" picture had the feeling working for it, with two strong subjects and nice colors, but there were too many flaws in the RAW file. The sunlight was coming from behind the subjects and ended up causing too much flare, and overall it looked pretty flat. The background had too much elements competing for attention and there were some odd reflections caused by the window behind me.

I ended up making some curve adjustments with light masking, cleaning the background and giving it a slight lens blur, correcting some of the reflections (mainly in the pool chair), working out the girls face to stand out a bit more and giving a little boost to the colour. All in all, a 20 to 30 minute job. Was it worth? You decide! In my opinion it won the right to have its own place in the sorted folders.

Landscape

Before

After

The "landscape" picture was not so bad, but it lacked that "stand out" feeling . The white balance was completely off, the colors too mute and too leveled out.

I started by correcting the white balance, which made a huge difference, and then I went to make selective colour corrections. I also made a slight adjustment to the angle and conclude with some curves to brighten the grass and the water. About 10 minutes of work. Another picture out of the "unsorted" folders.

The lesson I learned today is that time and experience can make a big difference in the way you see the things. Pictures that had no value for me before, probably because I didn't have the knowledge to correct them or knowing what to correct, turned out to be good pictures... good enough for printing.

What about you, have you seen your old pictures lately?

Earthquake in L'Aquila - photos of the tragedy

Wed, 8 Apr 2009 12:13:51 -0800

An earthquake struck L'Aquila, Italy at 3:22am local time Monday, April 6th, followed by many aftershocks that continued to shake the medieval city. It only took about 30 seconds to cause the destruction, leaving most of the region's inhabitants without shelter. People awoke to the sounds of buildings collapsing, including one dormitory at the University of L'Aquila.
This is the deadliest quake to hit Italy in over 10 years. Around 15,000 building were damaged in the quake, including, many historical buildings.

Photos of the tragedy

Rescuers sift through the wreckage of a house in L'Aquila. Four children were reported killed after their home collapsed. (Reuters)

Rescuers called for quiet as they strained to hear for signs of life of the people trapped amid the rubble. (AFP)

Hundreds of injured survivors were taken to the local hospital, where doctors treated patients in the open air as only one operating theatre was functioning. (AFP)

An injured man walks past destroyed homes in the Italian town of Onna. Some 100,000 people have been evacuated in the area, with a tent city being prepared because of the danger of after-shocks. (Reuters)

A rescue dog from Trento inspects the rubble of collapsed buildings in the hope of finding survivors trapped beneath. At least 15 people are still unaccounted for. (Reuters)

An aerial view of a flattened building in L’Aquila. Few buildings were left unscathed and residents wondered whether it would be months or years before they could safely return. (Reuters)

People lie in hospital beds outside in the road after the earthquake caused the collapse of St. Salvatore Hospital in L’Aquila. (Reuters)

Italian prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi, and Civil Protection Chief, Guido Bertolaso, meet journalists in L’Aquila, central Italy. 250 people have been killed and 1,500 injured, although this toll is yet again expected to rise as more bodies are found trapped under the rubble (AP)

A firefighter looks at a victim of the quake lying amid the wreckage of a house. 250 people have been killed in what is the worst earthquake, in terms of the death toll, to hit Italy since 2002 when 30 school children died in a quake in the south of the country (AP)

The body of a victim lies on the street surrounded by collapsed buildings. According to The US Geological Survey the earthquake measured 6.3 on the Richter scale while Italian officials recorded 5.8 (AFP)

Rescue workers carry an injured woman away from the wreckage of her house. The quake struck in the Abruzzo region of the Apennines at about 3.30 a.m., sending shock waves that were felt as far as Rome nearly 100 km away (Reuters)

Rescuer attends to injured man who was recovered from a collapsed building in central L'Aquila, some 70 miles from Rome. (Newscom/Sipa)

Aerial view of the destruction in the city of L'Aquila, central Italy, Monday. (AP Photo/Guardia Forestale, HO)

The cathedral, or Duomo, after the earthquake (AFP/Getty)

One of the many historic buildings affected by the quake. ('Palazzo del Governo' translates to 'City Hall.') L'Aquila was built as a mountain stronghold during the Middle Ages.
(Photo courtesy of European-Mediterranean Seismological CentreEuropean-Mediterranean Seismological Centre)

Day two in the aftermath of the quake: a coroner carries the body of a child to the coffin where his mother lies in Onna, one of the towns hardest-hit by the earthquake (Reuters)

Italian firefighters survey the scene of destruction infront of them. Monday’s earthquake was the most devastating since 1980, when more than 2,700 people were killed in the town of Eboli, south of Naples (AP)

A view of a damaged house in the village of Castelnuovo, central Italy, following a strong earthquake, Monday, April 6, 2009. A powerful earthquake in mountainous central Italy knocked down whole blocks of buildings early Monday as residents slept, killing more than 70 people in the country's deadliest quake in nearly three decades, officials said. Tens of thousands were homeless and 1,500 were injured. (AP Photo/Alessandra Tarantino)

Two police officers walk by debris in L'Aquila, central Italy, following a strong earthquake, Monday, April 6, 2009. (AP Photo/Pier Paolo Cito)

Cars are covered with debris and rubble in the village of Onna, central Italy, a quake-prone region that has had at least nine smaller jolts since the beginning of April. (AP Photo/Sandro Perozzi)

A firefighter walks by debris following a strong earthquake, in the village of Onna. (AP Photo/Sandro Perozzi)

A man is carried away by rescuers after a four-storey building collapsed following a earthquake in L'Aquila. The U.S. Geological Survey said the magnitude of the quake was 6.3, though Italy's National Institute of Geophysics put it at 5.8. (AP Photo/Pier Paolo Cito)

Cars are covered with debris and rubble following a strong earthquake, in the village of Onna. (AP Photo/Sandro Perozzi)

Bianca, a dog whose owners are missing, wanders past the rubble of collapsed buildings, in the village of Castelnuovo. (AP photo/Alessandra Tarantino)

Rescue workers search for trapped people after a 6.3 magnitude earthquake in L'Aquila, Italy. (Getty Images Photo / April 6, 2009)

Rescuers with a sniffer dog search for survivors among the rubble of collapsed buildings in the village of Castelnuovo in central Italy yesterday. (Alessandra Tarantino/Associated Press)

A Red Cross rescue worker comforts a child in a refugee camp set up just outside the Abruzzo capital L’Aquila. The makeshift tents provided little comfort against the chilly mountain air (AFP)

All the photos and text are a selection from various articles published on the net.

Reflection N. 1 - What is a good photo and why?

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 08:17:32 -0800

This is the first of a set of reflections on photography. Like any good reflection, it is meant to make us think about something. This time, I will not give any opinions of my own, but I will deliver a number of questions and ideas that can somehow contribute to this reflection and discussion.

So, "What is a good photo and why?". What is the first thing that you look for when you look at a photo for the first time? Is it the color (or absence of it)? Is it the composition? The main subject? The contrast? Could it be the shapes, textures, lines? What about the focus or depth of field? Do you go straight for the post-processing? Or is it the lighting?

Let's imagine for a moment that you don't know anything about photography and all those technical details. What makes it compelling and attractive? Do you have to like it for it to be a good photography? Or, does it have to be a good photography for you to like it? How many times have you photographed something that only meant something to you, that only appealed to your senses? And how many times have you published a photo in your photoblog that you thought it would be the one, and then came to the conclusion that after all nobody cared?

How does geography relate to the way you see photography? Would you consider a photograph of a Massai or of an elephant walking in the savanna, highly compelling if you lived in the Serengeti (Africa)? What if you lived in the Serengeti and someone showed you a photograph of people walking in the middle of a busy road? And how does social class relate to the way you see photography? Imagine you belong to a rich family and you open the newspaper and you see the photo of barefoot children taking garbage from a dump? Why do you find it interesting? What if it was the opposite; you find one of those children and show them the interior of your brand new Mercedes? Is it interesting to them? What if we talked about time (in years)? How do you think time relates to the way we see photography? Would someone from the 40's find a photo of a "steam train" as compelling as someone from the 90's?

Photographers: (Child) Hartmut Schwarzbach; (Elephant) Jazz Drew; (SteamTrain) Corbis

Now, imagine you do know about photography and all its technical details. How different will your opinion be? Do you still like these photos? Do you look at them the same way? Is your first contact still the same? Can your opinions be affected by your knowledge? Well, we do know that's true for paintings, for example. We might look at a painting and see nothing in it, but if we study a little about painting and the painter who painted it, we are able to give some sort of reasoned opinion and probably start to like it. But what if you liked a photo from the beginning, could you stop liking it just because you knew a little more about photography?

Lately, and perhaps due to the rise of digital photography, the trend is for people to use more and more post-processing. It's the HDR, the high-contrast, the multiple-effect, the digital selective focus, and a number of other digital tools. Do we use them because we are bored with straightforward photography, or just because we have those tools at our disposal? Would someone who loved a specific kind of photo suddenly get bored of it? Could it be that our likes and dislikes for a photo keep changing due to those chaotic variables?

Photographers: (HDR1) Chodaboy; (HDR2) Stuck in Customs

I remember my father telling me a story about a world whose leaders had decided to send every ugly person to a secret island so that only beautiful people could be seen. Many decades later, some of those beautiful people, sailing across the ocean, were caught by a big storm. After drifting for several days, not knowing where they were, they eventually reached an unknown island, which happened to be the island of the ugly people, and, since they had never seen any ugly people, they immediatly fell in love with the unusual beauty of that strange people.

What is a good photo and why? Have you reached a decision? Would you like to share your opinion?

Feel free to comment and add some of your ideas.

Two babies and a Crocodile

Fri, 27 Mar 2009 08:21:39 -0800

How often do you get to play while doing your job!?

This time I was asked to photograph some baby doll (do not confuse with "babydoll" wear) clothes. Oh yeah, and there is a fine market out there for this kind of articles. The detail they put into this clothes can rival any big maker in the "real people" fashion industry. Anyway, at first I thought about doing some catalogue material in the studio, but then I decided to pull out my list of contacts and find someone with baby dolls to work with. There's this really cool Music Academy near by, and they have a place for the kids to play during the break... and yep, lucky me, they had baby dolls.

So when I get to the place, I find this nice corner with a colorful bookcase/"gamecase", a really tiny bench on the side and a crocodile sleeping on the bench. The window was on the left, and the sun was almost down. I was just "scouting" the place so I didn't bring any flashes or fancy equipment, but you know... "scouting" and "playing around" aren't really to different from each other. I grabbed two of the dolls, dressed them with some nice "go well together" clothes, and put the croc in the middle.

A bunch of kids were already around me laughing around, looking at the funny setting. I couldn't help but wonder how would it be if these dolls had a life of their own.

Dolly Talk...

(Jane) - Hey Mary... who's your new boyfriend?
(Mary) - Not my boyfriend, you silly... it's a croc. His name is Dundee and he is my pet.
(Jane) - Your pet? Kidding right? How could you have a croc for pet?
(Mary) - Well... he kinda just popped from nowhere, and he is really sweet, try it... pet him.
(Jane) - What???? No way...
(Dundee) - Girls, could you give a little help... I'm feeling a little tight in here.
(Mary) - K dundee, I'm going to put you back in your place.
(Jane) - What place?
(Mary) - See that hard shadow in the corner??
(jane) - Yeah...
(Mary) - Well, that is the place! He likes to sleep in the dark.
(Jane) - Hummmm... kinda looks like someone forgot to put a flash in there.
(Mary) - Gizz Jane... always ruining the day.
(Dundee) - Oh dear... hard being a croc.

You can see a bigger version in the photoblog.

Passion for Photography

Wed, 25 Mar 2009 16:00:00 -0800

I woke up this morning still undecided about what to write in chromystic's first blog entry. Thought of speaking about myself and the reason for creating Chromystic, along with my expectations, goals and desires; thought about sharing some kind of crazy tutorial with cool effects and odd techniques; thought about not thinking at all, just saying hello to everyone and digress straight to post nº 2.

Instead, I decided to share with you some of my passion for photography.

Well, unlike many others, It did not start when I was a child, although it had always been a strong presence at home. My father loved photography… he had many cameras, a fully equiped darkroom, a slide machine and all kinds of wooden cases filled with slides, which I used to play with during the afternoons, contemplating the images. I was (and still am) addicted to visual stimulus, but at the time I had no interest in cameras, lenses or anything related to the act of making a picture.

It was many years after, already in my 20’s that the things started to make sense. I discovered that I could “change” reality, make it my creation, freeze the moments and freeze some kind of emotion or feeling with them. I wanted to know more, to be able to capture and create my own conceptions. So I bought books, magazines… dozens of them. I started to go out shooting almost every weekend, participating actively in on-line forums and photo communities… I was breathing photography.

Like so many I was also a material/equipment junkie, always looking for the latest model, the latest innovation or the latest trend. I also suffered from the “technique” virus, in which you can’t look at a photo without dissecating every tiny detail.

Well… I can honestly say I’m cured! What changed? I think many things changed, but the most important was the need, the freedom to be creative without limitations. So now I look at pictures for what they are, what they show, and what they represent. Like when I was a child, I’m once again looking for the visual stimulus, whether emotional or simply visual.

To conclude this post, I invite you to visit my photoblog and get some visual stimulus out of my first photo entries. Hope you like it.