jaff

Just got back from Jaffna on a quick pitstop to check in with projects. Apparently the reason why a claymore mine was blown up, killing six soldiers and putting everyone in town on alert was ostensibly because three youths who were decorating a store for Heroes' Day, the day celebrating the martyrs of the LTTE movement, were shot by unknowns in Jaffna, thought to be army people in civilian clothes. The government themselves may be trying to precipitate a war. Ranil too has joined forces with the government. What I wouldn't give for some intelligent analysis of the situation.

One of our contacts is an LTTE political officer, who has now been retracted outside of government controlled areas and is in the 'uncleared' area. We also went into the house of one community president, who had photos of Prabhakaran and himself, in his living room, and who had lost a son to the war already. Another official said, when asked about the war, that this is another Eritrea, that this is another Vietnam. The power of propaganda should never be underestimated.

Those whom we spoke to outside of the movement also expressed their views that this time, the fight would be decisive and that the decision had been taken to incorporate a larger, administrative role for the TRO. Who knows how it shall all end. I am tired.

Another bomb in Jaffna this morning. Total hartal, banks, corporations everything is shut and apparently the army is picking people at random and interrogating them in Jaffna. The newspapers are talking about a declaration of war before the end of the year, and parties are urging the President to put Colombo and the South on a war footing. The situation is tense to say the least.

kabuk

and so it is. Just like she thought it would be. Life goes on... sings Damian Rice in The Blower's Daughter.

A rather eventful week, culminating in a trip to a recommended laywer, deep in the heart of Pettah along this single lane winding off from the Chinese pagoda-like Supreme Court and in which every lawyer worth his ambulance has put up a shingle.

Walked into a 200 year old house, later informed, being built of kabuk, a paste of soil and stones which is naturally formed in the hill country and which is cut into blocks using skilled labourers. The art of kabuk making has been lost to the ages and now cheap cement rules the roost. I was impressed only by his bookcase, groaning under the statutory weight of Sri Lankan law books, but also with biographies of Mandela and Prabhakaran, placed perhaps not so incongruently side by side. Explained to him the complexities of our 'little problem', confidentiality forbids me from putting it up on this site and railing against all manner of dishonest, fraudulent, selfish, exploitative contractors playing with the lives of children.

I got a earful (have not been chastised like that since grade school) about our irresponsibility in the whole matter, but left having fallen a little bit in love with the 65 year old dry legal wit from Cambridge, under the 4 m high 2oo year ceilings with ancient whirring fans. I wondered what this house had seen, the street was apparently where Premadasa was assassinated and how much the nation had changed.

We rounded off with saying, well great, let's correspond over email over what kind of services we may require from you and he said, Madam, do not use the word services. You will have my assistance, which is free, at any time. I went out the swinging door, and into the sun.