Sri Lanka: Good night and good luck!

I wrote this post last week, but had to run and get my flight to India as we realised they were calling the final call as I was about to post. So here it is!!

As I sit at the wireless hotspot at Colombo International airport waiting for my flight to Mumbai via Chennai, I have decided to make this my last blog post of my incredible adventure in Sri Lanka.

Over the weekend, Olof and I took advantage of some time before our trip to India to visit Sri Lanka's ancient cities in the central north of the country. It was on this trip, having finished work, said goodbye to our sweet host family, and left behind the volunteer lifestyle in Tangalla, that I was able to reflect clearly on my six months here in Sri Lanka.

The trip took us over 450 kilometres around Sri Lanka's dry zone and got me to thinking about my first impressions of Sri Lanka when we arrived in January. We arrived in Sri Lanka during the dry season I was struck first by the potholed roads, the strange script on signboards everywhere, the masses and masses of people, and the bright colours of fruits, clothes and vegetation . I remember being glued to the window of the van, fascinated and a bit scared of what I was seeing.

As we travelled on similar roads last weekend, passing stands selling fruits that I had tasted, Sinhala signs that I could read, and the sorts of people I had got to know, I marvelled at how different it all seemed to me six months on. I understood the strange things that I saw out of the window, could decode the previously indeciperable code of the local language and script, was comfortable hairing along crumbling roads at 80km per hour with no seatbelt. Of course, none of these things were different last weekend than they were that January day six months ago. But my reactions were.

Living in such a rural area, seeing into people's lives, gaining an understanding of what it means to really be poor (and not just unable to afford a new laptop, snowboarding trip, or Starbucks finest) has been such a rich experience for me. Before I came to Sri Lanka - a country in the headlines for its bloody civil conflict, tsunami disaster, and other political troubles - I sometimes wondered if I was doing something stupid, taking an unnecessary risk, or just being plain misguided. But since I have been here I have never once regretted the decision I made to come and try out something completely different.

I have always resisted the cliches that experiences like this bring (a "life-changing experience", "finding yourself", "travel broadens the mind"). And to some extent I still do. This experience has not fundamentally changed me - it has challenged me, frustrated me, and sometimes frightened me. But I think what it has really done is reaffirmed for me that human beings are actually incredibly adaptable and flexible, that we can survive under very difficult circumstances and still find things to laugh at and enjoy, and that I too am adaptable and flexible. That I can learn a new language, entirely different to my own. That I can live with a family of nine others, sharing a small room. That I can teach people useful skills despite a language and cultural barrier. That I can sit on a crowded bus for four hours, with my face in someone else's armpit and still come away laughing (kind of).

I've also learnt that coming to a scary country makes you not so scared any more. I used to be scared of heights, scared of losing things, scared of losing control. But here there is always something else to think about, to distract you from thinking the worst. And not being scared of everything is actually quite a relief really!

So, for me finding this all out has been one of the funnest, most stimulating experiences of my life.

I will be sad to leave Sri Lanka behind, but am looking forward to the next stage in my adventure - to India, Hong Kong and China, and I know that I will return to Sri Lanka one day soon. And I am incredibly grateful to everyone who sponsored me and supported my fundraising efforts to come here.