Exposures

Category Archives: Sri Lanka


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Belief

Text by Patty Simon | Image by Dick Simon
India

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Dick likes to tell everyone that this trip is about spiritual journeys and justifies why we headed to the largest religious gathering in the world at the Kumbh Mela in India. My gut cringes each time I hear because I am not very “religious” so when I witness various “religions”, it does not do much for my own spiritual journey. But, I let it go and try to just be open to whatever happens in these countries with such intense, varied belief systems.

We have gone from Christianity to Hindu to Buddhist to Muslim and back to all four living next to each other side by side.

So here is where my journey has led. In terms of religion… Nowhere. Though I have always respected others beliefs, I find myself foreign to it all. I think I have a gene missing. When I go into these sacred shrines, all I see is decoration and fascination for what these gods look like or how they are honored with offerings. Even the Christian churches feel foreign because all I can think of are missionaries imposing foreign beliefs on an already embedded belief system of thousands of years.

As an artist I have always been obsessed with shrines. I take pictures of every one I see (well, in India this is impossible as they are every 50 feet and we could never get to our next destination). I collect offerings. I study design and what qualities make a “shrine”. I have wanted to do an art installation but I get snagged by one problem. Because of my lack of religious belief, what would I pay homage to? I have thought about this year after year and it keeps me from actually producing the show. (An invitation to anyone reading this, if you have any ideas, please let me know)

So… Belief! If not religious, what would my belief look like?

I’ve decided my belief is about what God creates… the beautiful natural landscape and the people that exist in this huge world. My belief is wrapped up in their belief that life is worth living and struggling for – in the everyday and the tiniest of kindnesses.

 


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An Artificial Utopia

Text by Patty Simon | Image by Dick Simon
India

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Realities come in all shapes and sizes.

The layers of a culture are twisted and tangled.

I include the United States.

Dick and I are traveling on a more expensive level, which means we are sometimes separated from the local culture. Literally by walls and gates at exclusive resort properties but also by differences in cultural moiré. We balance this by ditching our guides and walking the streets talking to the locals and mixing where we stay. Right now most of the guests at our hotel are local Hindus here to see a famous shrine and the bathroom has no shower stall.

One of my favorite things to do is driving in a “protected” car and watching the world go by. It is like watching a movie. Everyone is outside living everyday life so it is so rich visually. Sometimes I just make a list… every living vignette, interaction, business, shrine, clothing, sign, sound and advertisement.

So, I find myself in different utopian situations. This came home to me yesterday in the car. I decide to listen to David Benoit’s song “If I Can Believe”, ironically off his “American Landscape” album. I am listening to music that always triggers an emotional reaction and none larger than today in India. Tears are rolling down my face as I am overwhelmed by my good fortune in witnessing all this. I always feel lucky in finding little pieces of heaven in these beautiful walled resorts but today the utopia is witnessing the people on the streets. Most don’t have much but they have enough to be included in the base reasons for living – work, shelter, food, family and community.

I now know my utopia is found on the streets of every culture we visit.

 


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Underdressed

Text by Patty Simon | Image by Dick Simon
Sri Lanka

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Dick and I took a day off – which means pool day by the ocean for me at the Galle Face Hotel in Colombo.

I wear a one-piece Speedo suit because I am a lap swimmer more than a sunbather so I always feel a tad dowdy sitting around all the bikinis.

I was contemplating all this when my eye catches a sparkle. That sparkle led to a jewel of many jewels and beautiful brocade sewn on white satin draped in lilac voile… stunning! I look up and can’t believe my eyes. Promenading by my chaise lounge is a wedding party, Sri Lankan style – bride and groom, bridesmaids and groomsmen and lastly, adorable flower girls and boys.

Here I was looking like a drowned rat with wet plastered hair in a soggy suit watching a scene out of Cinderella complete with fancy finery of flowing saris, glittery sandals and fragrant flower bouquets.

It was surreal and magical but comical at the same time. Tradition states that a videographer poses the young couple in various settings. This time it means parading around a pool at a hotel.

Underdressed? I would say so! I must buy a sequined suit for future fancy occasions.

 


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Foreign Exchange

Text by Patty Simon | Images by Dick Simon
Sri Lanka

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Still at the Buddhist temple, we find a particularly gorgeous Buddha behind glass in glistening gold plate adorned with so much gold memorabilia that you need to wear sunglasses. We both get into shooting artfully composed photos competing on whose are the best!

Dick spies a collection of coin and paper money offerings. I find my own treasure in the pile, a coin wrapped in white fabric offered to “buy” good luck.

In true Dick fashion, he tries and succeeds with very little language between himself and the head monk to “trade” the coins for paper money with a donation thrown in. Dick says, “Takey, Takey?” and the monk says “No problem!” and begins helping us sort the coins. In friendly conversation, we find out our new friend the monk, named Wen Ariyakiththi Tero, will be in NYC in April so we exchange information and hope to connect on a trip to see our daughter at NYU. After collecting the “loot”, we use the toilet, buy two tiles for the museum they are building (just like buying a brick at the YMCA) and collect what I think is “holy water” from a special sink near the shrine.

 


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Protocol

Text by Patty Simon | Images by Dick Simon
Sri Lanka

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Remember the saying, ” Do as the Romans Do”? This is our mantra in visiting other cultures. The only problem is what exactly are the customs. We are very conscious of representing our own country showing as much friendliness and respect as we can muster. We found often in Sri Lanka, even in the heavy tourist destinations, that we were the only Americans. There were many Germans and Russians. We did meet one US family living in Afghanistan.

So, the temples seem to have rules that are not quite obvious. We know to take off our shoes. We did not know but should have taken off our sun hats.  What we did not know was shirts are not allowed on men in Hindu temples. Dick was asked to remove his shirt just like the monks. Of course the monks looked good and Dick looked silly especially when he has two huge cameras hanging around his bare chest!

 


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Cosmic Kindness

Text by Patty Simon | Images by Dick Simon
Sri Lanka

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I have found that as I travel to different places I start processing my interactions with locals through a “sincerity gauge”. It goes from fake hype to sweet sincerity and lately it feels as if the more foreigners one sees in an area, the gauge descends to anything but genuine. (For the record, I blame the tourists and not the locals)

I left you standing at a Buddhist temple. I remember getting an email the night before from Rox asking me to get a special blessing for herself and daughters.  I spied pilgrims lighting incense and wished I could make Rox’s wish come true. So, I go up to the burning incense, look like I want some and voila! A kind older woman gives me a smile with a sincerity rating of five stars and shares her incense. I take the four sticks, just enough for Rox, the girls and my friend Laura. Surely this woman will be guaranteed an auspicious next life and my friends will surely be blessed. Ah, the kindness of strangers.

 


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Islands Day in Jaffna

Text by Patty Simon | Images by Dick Simon
Sri Lanka

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Free day in Jaffna – alone. Our guide has to drive the car back to Colombo (8+hours) because we are flying back. Don’t get me wrong, we love our guide but the idea of being on our own feels good. We arrange a three-wheel ‘tuk-tuk’ driven by a lovely ‘tour guide’ with a few words of English who quickly learns to slow down for every potentially photographable bird, shrine, fisherman or bombed building. The best part was the inside of the vehicle… fully decorated with Catholic statues, pictures of Christ, holy medals, garlands and decals saying, “Jesus Loves You”. He asked if I was Catholic and after I said yes, he made it his mission to stop at every Catholic Church on our way, insist we get out and take pictures!

We head out on causeway after causeway connecting various peninsulas and islands. We are aiming for a remote island called Delft (from the Dutch colonial days) but like many things here, we can’t seem to get a straight answer on departure times. Bumping along with a cool, balmy breeze pushing away the impending heat from the noonday sun, Dick takes pictures of hundreds of shorebirds… eagles, ibis, flamingo and scenes of fisherman pulling in their night catch and colorful skinny fishing boats. We arrive at the ferry where I find a ‘find’ – bottle caps stuck in coral – so I take a photo and a few loose caps to add to my collection. We soon find out there are no more boats to Delft but we can still go to yet another temple complex on Nainativu. Fate once again has mercy on us. Little did we know the ‘ferry’ would be a local pilgrimage boat jammed with bodies all put underneath like steerage next to an engine decked out with hibiscus flowers (must be some offering to keep the boat afloat!). Nainativu is a mere 20-minute ride as opposed to an hour and a half, which would have been gruesome.

We walk toward the boats spying a blue crab or two, instructed to a shaded sitting area queue with many Hindus and Buddhists holding flower offerings.

Arriving, we are invited to squeeze into the back of a truck by Buddhist pilgrims who giggle. We arrive at a huge white stupa in contrast to rainbow multi gods (including monkeys and elephants) at the Hindu shrine down the road. We get “Buddhism Lesson 101” on differences of faiths. We are told Buddhism is more humanist where God is found in each one of us. One does not worship Buddha but lives by his example. Hindus believe in many gods for many reasons. Both believe in a form of reincarnation.

 


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War Zone Day

Text by Patty Simon | Images by Dick Simon
Sri Lanka

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How can I possibly describe this serendipitous sort of day? More than ever, I feel destined day after day to accept what comes and what comes is usually fantastic.

We are now in Jaffna in the northern tip of Sri Lanka. It has just opened to tourism after a 30-year civil war. Dick is particularly interested in driving around and seeing the effects of the Tamil Tiger conflict.

From the little I have gathered (*and I would like to say right here and now… I am not an expert on this war), this was a 30 year conflict between the Tamils (mostly Hindu, who immigrated from India, (one of the southern states in India is called Tamil Nadu) and the Sinhalese (Buddhist and Christian and some Muslim population). The Tamils claim to fame is being the creators of the ‘suicide bomber’. The war was going on until 2009, not so long ago. Reading about the facts of the conflict and why the Tamils were supported by India leads to a similar time in history where another two-state solution happened producing India and Pakistan during the time of Gandhi (watch the movie!). Once again I am reminded that it is all quite complicated. The president now, who for practical purposes, is a dictator, but on the surface seems to have created peace and a lot of business development for a country that for thirty years was under siege. He seems to be like Kagame in that the focus is on the future, the past needs to be forgotten and NGO’s do not seem to be welcome.

So I hold judgment and stay open to all the stories that unfold before my eyes.

We get in the car and quickly find a Dutch residence – beautifully designed but roofless and gutted. Dick starts taking photographs and I find “treasure” in the form of broken red clay roof tiles with words and elephant logos. Next thing I know – two men come up and tell our guide they are Tamil refugees and want us to see their deplorable living conditions.

They tell us the government makes promises but only helps the Sinhalese, not the Tamils. We go to the village recording every word of a makeshift interview.

Supposedly their families went back to India as refugees during the war and came back in 2010. We are taken to open land (there are no leases given so there is no ownership and no fences). They live in put-together shacks made of stray container boxes ironically labeled “Handle with Care”, tin roofing, palm leaf walls, and bits of stray wood. Somehow they are well dressed and when we peek inside, we see a refrigerator hooked up to pirated electricity taken from someone’s legal line. I did notice nice looking outhouses and was told the government built 54 for both Tamils and Sinhalese. They tell us the government will not give them jobs or let NGO’s help either. They say their poor Sinhalese neighbors are given homes, etc.

Now, here is the rub. I notice a nice residential neighborhood and ask who lives there. They casually say Tamils, just like our poor destitute friends who have been showing us around, so I ask the obvious question, “Why can’t they help you?” They say in true Indian fashion, “They are a different caste. They can’t help us.” This is so confusing and frustrating. They are asking foreigners to help when their own people would not.

We are given a photocopy of a list of all the Tamil families living in these harsh conditions. We decide not to give them money or promise anything but do give them our contact info. All of a sudden, two soldiers (or police) come up, take us to their boss, a lieutenant and ask our names, passports and “reason” for snooping around. Dick’s sweet-talking ends up with a friendly photo-op with our new friends.

We leave perplexed by it all. What is the truth?

We spend the rest of the day visiting Hindu temples – a treasure trove of colorful reliefs of many gods that make up a belief that is so complex.

We shoot photos of hundreds of destroyed buildings, go thru checkpoints, and are turned back for reasons we don’t understand.

By the end of a very long day, photo weary but happy eating the best Tandoori chicken ever and only seeing 2 other foreigners, we decide that northern Sri Lanka is ripe for tourism being a fascinating mix of history and a culture which includes three of the world’s oldest religions living side by side.

 


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The Morning On The Water

Text by Patty Simon | Images by Dick Simon
Sri Lanka

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We found ourselves in a magical haven tucked into the countryside of Sri Lanka. I am writing this entry in honor of my dear mermaid friends whose love of nature; water and birds find me wishing they were right with me this very minute.

This is our second day. We knew yesterday at breakfast, as we were dining on the open terrace overlooking the pool and rice paddies watching pairs of brilliant blue and green parrots and black-hooded golden orioles fly back and forth, that we were in ‘bird country’.

We are so lucky. We end up at the right place at the right time. Little did we know that the two lakes surrounding this property turn to mud in the dry season around August and therefore there are no shore birds or lush green topical plants to see.

The sounds… ahhhh, the symphony of sounds – the catlike call of the peacocks in the trees looking for mates, the cuckoo, parrots and hundreds others that impart a very different melody than at home. I wake up early just to go out and listen!

As we were biking yesterday, a very sweet “recreation guide” approached us… led us on a bike ride skirting the lake right at sunset to look for birds and watch a local put an inner tube in the water to wade out a long fishing net he would leave all night, catch the fish in the morning to sell at the local market. He convinced us to take an early morning kayak birding expedition the next day. He didn’t have to do too much convincing.

***But before we get to the next morning, I must tell you of our magical dinner. The resort calls it a “Signature Dining”. We could pick anywhere “outside” to dine alone… well, not exactly alone – a BBQ chef, a waiter, a ‘helper’ and, of course, the general manager magically appear to see how everything is – we tell him “heaven” could not be better – and, for Dick – not one mosquito!!! This puzzles us as we are surrounded by lots of water everywhere so we ask… answer… since this resort is “green” (solar panels, methane gas from compost, hot water from air conditioners, fiber building materials, organic food and filtered water coming out of taps) they put fish in waterways and rice paddies to eat the mosquito larvae…it works! Dick is in his own heaven. We dine under the stars and moon and paper lanterns to a feast of grilled prawns, fish kabobs, chicken sausage, drumsticks, grilled fresh pineapple and tomatoes with homemade BBQ sauce (Dick ate a bowl of it!), jacket potatoes with sour cream, and something which for me is gold… an array of cooked vegetables including pumpkin, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, carrots and more. The whole time you are eating, you wonder where on earth do they get all this to a resort which is so deeply remote. Dick had mentioned it was our 30th anniversary so after two desserts of homemade strawberry ice cream and cheese cake, they present us with a Linzer torte cake with “Happy Anniversary” written in chocolate and lined with fresh strawberries. The lit candle only made the evening sky that much more brilliant.

We wake up early… the pastel cool air drawing me outside to just listen and look. Our guide shows up with binoculars and we set off… on the way seeing a male peacock fly up in a tree (a first!) and all sorts of birds. I have to apologize to Lidia right now. I cannot remember many names but will research the bird book and give you a full report. I see two kayaks for 4 people and panic… I want to paddle not be Cleopatra… so Dick has a very sweet way of making this so… I am happy as a clam… Dick has his great big camera and skirts the shore shooting thousands of juicy shots. I get to paddle across the lake to an island to see the prize… a pair of pelicans with their fuzzy grey heads and baby cormorants nesting in the tree. We see flocks and ducks and big and little… the next exciting sighting is a flamingo… pink, white and black with its deep yellow bill… 3 types of blue and red kingfishers with their massive straight bills, tons of egrets so pure and white… and flycatchers with the long red tails.

*** Another confession… sometimes I get tired of being “guided”. I like the quiet, the exploring, and the being in a place without having to know the facts. My kayak guide picked up on this immediately. He gave me a few facts and a lot of “space” – just to experience the peace, the quiet, and the beauty.

And at the end of the ride, as I was coming to shore thru the water lilies… just for an instant but long enough to feel wistful… I felt as if I was at Tunk with all of you! But instead, was given a beautiful lotus flower by my guide to take back to our chalet.