From Supporters and Criminals

On the following day, I ventured into the center of the 2 million city, and just for the ride in a Tuktuk during rush hour on a Monday morning, I awarded myself the bravery medal. I just wanted to run a few errands, visit some sights and architecturally interesting colonial buildings... by 12 o'clock I was completely exhausted and sitting in a wine bar, seriously considering crawling back into bed or flying straight home. I expected it to be busy and chaotic... but what got to me was the enormous noise level from the continuous, aggressive honking of every road user and the constant, offensive harassment. Every 5 meters a Tuktuk stopped and wanted to convince me to ride. As soon as I slowed down slightly or tried to understand the street signs, someone would push in who knew a much better way anyway. If you just glanced at Google Maps with the corner of your eye, you immediately received unsolicited hints and were drawn into a conversation from which it was difficult (and rude) to extricate yourself. Take pictures? Watch the surroundings? Stroll through the streets relaxed? No way! I don't know if it was because of my conspicuously European appearance, or because I was obviously wandering the streets alone - I didn't expect that. To the frequent, brazen question of where my husband was, I always wiggled my thick fake wedding ring and pointed to the nearest hotel, but that usually didn't create distance. At the end of the day, I felt completely rushed and overwhelmed, and the question of "What have you gotten yourself into" nagged incessantly at my usual optimism. The continuous pouring rain didn't help matters either. Since Colombo itself has little to offer, I actually spent the next day completely in my cute AirBnB, worked a bit and tried various unknown fruits from the nearest supermarket. However, the evening ended unexpectedly social, as my host Placi convinced me to join him at the Hilton Hotel to play Bingo with his Rotary Club. Rotary is an international organization that operates worldwide organized clubs for various social, ecological or cultural projects. Since my father has been a Rotarian for many, many years, I basically grew up with their values and joint activities and was incredibly happy for the opportunity to visit a club in Sri Lanka. Surprisingly, the president of the Colombo Fort District is a Dutch woman who grew up in Hamburg and has been working in Sri Lanka as a lawyer and yoga teacher for several years. After a lecture by a member about raising funds for reforesting an area in the south of the country destroyed by the tsunami, there was plenty of drinking, eating, playing and laughing. About a third of those present were women, and the interaction was very relaxed and humorous. The obviously different religions and backgrounds seemed completely irrelevant, and everyone was incredibly nice, open-minded and communicative towards me as well. With a bundle of business cards and numerous new contacts, we left the hotel inebriated and my mood was somewhat pacified. Even though there seemed to be worlds lying between the reality on the streets and this little excursion into club life, I took the feeling of the evening with me and subsequently tried not to go through the day too much in defensive mode and with a *stay the hell away from me* facial expression.
The next day, I was rewarded for this with a scam at the train station, when a supposedly deaf-mute led me nicely to my seat on the train and stowed away my luggage, only to then present me with a "donation list" to read and hand over the money. I almost laughed a little about the situation because I had read about it frequently and always thought to myself, "That won't happen to me!". Haha. Rich in experience and 500 Rs poorer, I then leisurely chugged along on the train from Colombo to Kandy and enjoyed not being harassed or honked at for once. The vendors constantly walking through the aisles with their fruits, drinks and baked goods seemed to sense my rejection and actually left me alone. The view was beautiful, and I even managed to get a coveted spot by the door for a few nice photos. Not so easy when the train rattles along the slope in switchbacks and you only have a rickety handrail!