Nuwara Eliya, "City of Light", Hill Country, Sri Lanka
I took the early train from Kandy to Nuwara Eliya, looking forward to peaceful days high up in the hills, surrounded by tea plantations. The train ride was supposed to be spectacular. Though I paid for a second-class ticket, I ended up in third class. But I didn't mind, as long as I had a seat and it was even by the window! I enjoyed the views and forgot all about my travel blues. The magic was done like so many times by a small boy who more or less accidentally sat on my lap, paired by his sisters' giggling and his mother's content smile. Three beautiful teenage daughters snuggled onto their mother and in my mind I took a picture of that scene. Upon arrival, the touts were - as expected - all over me. Already on the train platform, they greeted me with persistence. They had just dropped off some guests, and offered me a ride into town for only 100 Rs. 'So why don't you offer me the ride for free?', I asked. Sheepishly, one after the other disappeared. I boarded the mini-bus for 18 Rs and had a pleasant non-business focussed conversation with a teacher. Again, I was more than happy to have chosen public transportation, despite the heavy luggage.
I took the early train from Kandy to Nuwara Eliya, looking forward to peaceful days high up in the hills, surrounded by tea plantations. The train ride was supposed to be spectacular. Though I paid for a second-class ticket, I ended up in third class. But I didn't mind, as long as I had a seat and it was even by the window! I enjoyed the views and forgot all about my travel blues. The magic was done like so many times by a small boy who more or less accidentally sat on my lap, paired by his sisters' giggling and his mother's content smile. Three beautiful teenage daughters snuggled onto their mother and in my mind I took a picture of that scene. Upon arrival, the touts were - as expected - all over me. Already on the train platform, they greeted me with persistence. They had just dropped off some guests, and offered me a ride into town for only 100 Rs. 'So why don't you offer me the ride for free?', I asked. Sheepishly, one after the other disappeared. I boarded the mini-bus for 18 Rs and had a pleasant non-business focussed conversation with a teacher. Again, I was more than happy to have chosen public transportation, despite the heavy luggage.
My chosen guest house - King Fern Cottage - was unavailable, so I opted for the Single Tree guest house. I was offered a noisy room near the reception area, but didn't mind as it was clean and the staff was friendly. The manager was a bit too business-centered for my taste, but soon noticed that I wasn't one of the many customers to spend horrendous amounts of money to go hiking. I walked into town and bought some soul food (kothu roti!) for dinner. Back at my guest house, I was invited for a drink by two friendly Dutch men, Pieter and (another) Geert. We chit-chatted a little before passionately exchanging on our professional development paths. Though we worked in different fields, our thought patterns were quite similar. We had given up security for new challenges and more meaningful engagements. After an hour or two, they invited me to join them for a hike in Horton Plains the next day (a trip that otherwise costs 3,000-5,000 Rs for the required driver). For me, the hike was not so important, rather I was looking forward to spend more time with them.
Pieter casually dropped this 'information' to his private guide, a Sri Lankan friend of over 15 years. His face froze and he made clear that it was impossible to take me along. Shocked by the reaction, we all thought this must be a misunderstanding. He justified his statement by not wanting to take away business from the manager of my guest house. When this argument did not really convince us he revealed the real reason for his disagreement: Earlier that day, he had 'invited' two English ladies - of course for a fee - to join the hiking trip. The two Dutch friends had not been happy because they were on a private trip and did not even know these ladies. Now he felt disrespected about their decision that I could go along. They argued that this case was different, as they were the ones inviting me. From his aggressive tone, I noticed that the Sri Lankan friend was drunk. He insisted and decided that he was not going to let me join. In anger, Pieter got up and left while Geert tried to fix the situation with his mediation skills. The Sri Lankan friend now made patriotic statements. I felt increasingly uncomfortable and left the situation, assuring Geert and Pieter that I did not want to cause any trouble. Because their friend was too drunk, they could not find any reason in him.
What shocked me most was the fact that a long friendship could be shaken by a small incident, based on a lost business opportunity. Taking into account the arrak (local rum) and some other complexities about their friendship that I may not have been aware, every encounter seemed to be about business. Even friendships seemed worth nothing when it came to making money. Still in disbelief the following day, I was glad not to see this person again, though I regret the lost opportunity of exchanging more thoughts with the two Dutch.
No comments:
Post a Comment