The Spirit of Giving

What is it about religious holidays or disasters that ignite a spirit of charitable giving within humanity?  Is it the reminder of one’s own mortality in the wake of others dying  as a result of a calamity or the seasonal awakening of a conscience that is set in a rip van winkle like snooze the year round, that prompts people to give?  Nevertheless, one can draw a correlation between the amount and frequency people give and the time of the year, be it Christmas, Eid or any other holidays or any disaster that strikes as has been evident in recent years by the tsunami and numerous earthquakes and cyclones.  Whatever the reason, the motivation is still the same. It is done so that the donor feels an inner level of self satisfaction that help has been given out of sympathy to the helpless.

I have been reminded of this increasingly as a result of what has happened in the last couple of weeks.  With the cyclone in Myanmar and the earthquake in China, the humanitarian organisations have been in full swing hoping to raise money for two ‘politically difficult’ situations.  Nevertheless, people not swayed by political concerns have been moved to donate.  The other incident which has come to my mind is the recent vesak holidays in Sri Lanka.  Billed as the last long weekend for a while in Sri Lanka (notorious for its numerous public holidays), it was supposed to be a time of great celebration (which is always welcome) with lots of lanterns and the provision of Dhansala, which can best be described as the provision of free food to the public.  Literally in every nook and cranny, a  stall is set up and people give away food to passers by.  Stop at a traffic light and you are bound to be approached  by someone bringing something to eat.  People’s generosity knows no bounds…..

This year’s vesak was a little bit subdued.  Whilst many would argue that the ongoing security situation (not helped by the bomb that went off on the Friday before the Vesak weekend) contributed it was evident that something else was wrong.  This was evident from the Dhansala that was being served.  Traditionally it is rice and some accompaniments that is served.  However this time, there was a variation from the 2 minute Maggi noodles, to soup to fruits, anything but rice.

‘You see rice is expensive and the cost of cooking gas has gone up and so we can not do these as we used to’, a Dhansala stall holder ruefully remarked to me, reflecting the pinch that many ordinary people are feeling in terms of cost of living increases and rising food prices.

As the ‘silent tsunami’ (as it has been called by the world bank) slowly engulfs us, many people in Sri Lanka will not realise their plight until they are struck.  Whilst it is the poor and the most vulnerable that will be the first to suffer, no one is immune from the rising prices.  Yet in a country such as Sri Lanka which has blessed natural resources, the mere fact that food still has to be imported is a wonder

Yet the worrying part is how little this is of concern for people.  Much more than any other issue is the issue of food security which should be gripping people.  The mere fact that some people are going to bed hungry whilst others have plenty to eat is from all spiritual teachings a crime.

There are still weddings taking place in grand hotels and exclusive dinners that are being held where food is being wasted and thrown without any concern for the value and worth of what is put on the plate.  There are still people who insist on eating rice three times a day because they want to.  Such apathy to problems is reflected from the very top as well as can be seen from the acceptance of rice by Sri Lanka from Myanmar even after the cyclone had struck Myanmar robbing the country of vital rice stocks.

At times such as this, there is a need for dialogue and discussion on how collectively people can respond to this globally emerging crisis.  People need to be thinking of the short, medium and long terms in the case of addressing vulnerability.  Many countries have started food banks to address this issue, whilst others are talking about supporting better agricultural practices and addressing trade.  The key point is that Sri Lanka has been slow in starting or realising this point

Sri Lanka may still be a long way off from the food related riots that have gripped other parts of the world, but it may not be soon far from the handing out of dry rations which has so far been confined to parts of the country which have suffered from disaster.

Reflections from Myanmar

There is still an eerie calm in Yangon. Whilst the military have almost completed clearing the debris, the residents go about their daily business still evidently shell shocked over the worst natural disaster to hit Myanmar in 80 years.

For some of us who have been involved in other natural disasters, it is yet again a humbling reminder of mankind’s frailty in the face of nature and the Creator. What hit us when our team landed in Yangon, flying over the countryside, was a scene of total devastation, reminiscent of the tsunami that had struck 4 years ago, trees of 8 ft diameter levelled to the ground in the shape of a kneeling victim.

What we faced on the ground were challenges and resistance.  Resistance to outside help particularly from the west and resistance to foreigners visiting disaster struck areas.  Challenges, in terms of communications with mobile phones and CDMA reportedly costing $2000 - $2500 and internet facilities at hotels about $1 per 50 minutes.  On top of this, internet access is sometimes barred due to security reasons, and it becomes a game to see how alternative proxys can be used to send out information.

As in most other disasters, the NGOs gather around with the UN to form their cluster meetings and Yangon is no different, except for one thing, the cluster meetings are held largely in a vacuum with very little sense of what is happening on the ground.  The frustration is evident in every one’s faces as what we have to go on is the data (often under reported) provided by the government.

Before the restrictions on foreigner’s movement were made tighter last weekend, we were able to somehow visit one or two of the villages struck by the cyclone.  It is indescribable the appalling living conditions of those who have survived. In the  village of Kungyangon, in  an almost catatonic state, people were seen to be sifting through the destroyed remains of their homes. The detritus of disaster occasionally offering up possessions like mangled bicycles or touching mementoes of a life before the horror swept through the village. All too often though, it yielded the decomposing remains of those who were not quick enough to escape the deluge. 

The acrid smell of death permeated the atmosphere. There were bloated dead bodies still floating and lying in the paddy fields, which are also used by people for their drinking and bathing since there is no other source. 

It has taken us about 10 days to get our footing within Yangon and it has felt like a game of chess as we seek to make the most strategic move.  Despite the warmth and welcoming faces of the people as they realise that you are there to help, there is a feeling of being followed and being watched.  The Government Officials that we have dealt with have remarked in no uncertain terms that there will be ‘severe punishment’ for those that transgress.

In the aftermath of Cyclone Nargis, Muslim Aid launched a £2,000,000 appeal which has so far seen the distribution of dry rations, medicine and water purification through local partner.  The local partners are being trained by Muslim Aid staff to carry out water purification and to take this into the worst affected areas. 

There is much to be done as very little aid has gotten through so far.  Essential needs are still not being met and with the threat of water borne diseases still dangerously close, the crisis is just beginning.  It has just been announced that Aid Workers will be allowed in, which means that momentum will be gained as aid gets through and essential needs met over the coming days and weeks.

There is much to be done. After taking in the initial shock of how powerful the cyclone must have been to leave so much destruction, one begins to look around and take note of some of the less apparent scars – those which will take longer to heal.  Cities can always be rebuilt but the wounds of the hearts and mind will take longer.  It is plain that these wounds are deep.  One of the striking factors of this cyclone like the earthquake in China has been that many children died.

In the coming months there will be a huge need for the relief efforts to be stepped up in what has been a largely neglected country.  For now the people are in shock and will need to rely on the generosity and goodwill of their neighbours, goodwill that has remained despite the various obstacles placed thus far. But this goodwill is as exhaustible as the supplies which are needed for the refugees to live. Eventually people will have to begin looking after their own families and homes will have to be rebuilt. The worry for many people is that when the world inevitably moves on to the next newsworthy story the donations too will stop.   

After 60 years, moving forward??

This has probably been the longest (in terms of length) blog I have written.  I had originally sat down in the last week of January/first week of February to write this blog reflecting the  symbolic period surrounding Sri Lanka as well as the region.  The end of January witnessed the 60^th anniversary of the death of Ghandi and the beginning of February saw the 60^th anniversary of the Independence of Sri Lanka.   Maybe it was me, but I seemed to sense some sort of hope and anticipation in the air.  In India, the second freedom struggle to end poverty and the caste system had just been launched at the appropriately named Ghandigaram (The University founded on Ghandi’s teachings).  In Sri Lanka, much of the media carried in various forms, articles on Ghandi and what he said and did.  It did not take much to see the inferences that were being made.  Perhaps after 60 years of independence and 20 years of ethnic strife, there was an expectation that people in Sri Lanka would perhaps move towards this change as it seemed to be happening across the waters.

As the 4^th of February rolled about, the official government celebrations took centre stage under a shadow of the threat of suicide bombs.  Most people escaped to the beaches down south taking advantage of the long weekend.  ‘Independence? From what?’ remarked some of my friends when I asked them what they were planning to do for that day.  My next remark to them on ‘how independence meant freedom from the yoke of colonialism and the working towards a new Sri Lankan identity whose people would wear with pride free from oppression and injustice, and how there was still a way to go for Sri Lanka to truly achieve this despite setting it in motion 60 years back’, received even more cynical remarks.  ‘You are just some romantic idealist Amjad! That’s the job of the government! Never going to happen!’

And so it was, 4^th of February rolled around and people got ready for the actual defining big event, Valentine’s Day.  As the 14^th of February grew ever closer, shops started stocking the cards and heart shaped chocolate boxes; radio and TV stations started advertising special ‘Valentines Night’ and hotels started to promote their special offers.  The shocker was a five star hotel which was promoting a special valentines night offer all inclusive for couples that would cost $2000.  If this was not shocking, then what was even more disturbing was that there were people who had actually bought the package.

And so for me, some expectation for possible change at the beginning of February suddenly fizzled to disillusion.  How could people spend that much on a silly concept night when people are suffering from 24% inflation?  How could people be so insensitive to the sufferings of people in the north and east?   Of course I knew that this was the work of  the ‘Colombo Crowd’, that rare species of established and nouveau rich, that roam around Colombo in their Perspex carriages and live in ivory towers, completely oblivious to reality (a species found in many other developing countries).  Yet I told myself, I could not comprehend that even these people would be able to be so indifferent, insensitive and oblivious to their neighbours’ plights

The sad reality is that it is this apathy displayed at the most basic and inhuman manner by the ‘Colombo crowd’, that is symptomatic of a bigger disease in Sri Lanka.  The lack of giving a damn that means that Sri Lanka can never really progress from the abyss it found itself 60 years ago.  My disillusionment has been reinforced by the fact that when you ask most people in Sri Lanka, what they are proud about.  Their response is normally blank or they say, ‘I was born Sri Lankan, so I have nothing to be proud of, I just accept it’.

With this type of attitude how can the country move forward?  I reflect on my experiences when I first came back to Sri Lanka. Coming back to ‘discover’ Sri Lanka was always going to be a challenge.  ‘So Amjad, you are an engineer from Imperial?’ had been the common question followed by the next question that i know comes into their mind: ‘So what the hell are you doing back here in Sri Lanka?’  Sometimes the question goes even further ‘What is an educated person like you doing working for an INGO?  Are you on some personal crusade for redemption?’

These have been the common questions that have been posed to me.  The main quandary for them is that they cannot really understand why i would seemingly ‘sacrifice’ my life in the UK to come back to Sri Lanka.  When people are desperately trying to leave the country or to send their children abroad it is strange that someone should be making a strategic choice to come back.

Therein is the crux of the issue.  In recent years the brain drain has been evident and intense.  Whilst one can make a case for people leaving the country to seek better fortunes elsewhere, it is also true that now more than ever Sri Lanka needs its people to remain behind. ‘Why?’ is the question someone would ask.    As a development / humanitarian worker, we are engaged in trying to influence a change.  A change in people’s lives, an improvement in their economic status; a change in the attitude to allow respect and acceptance. For me with Sri Lankan roots, it is even more personal.  It is about showing that bringing peace and development to Sri Lanka is the duty of its children regardless of caste, creed and religion. How can we do this when the rest of the people are apathetic?  

One of the greatest spiritual teachings is that ‘change can happen when people set themselves up to be part of that change’ and Ghandi elaborated this so well when he said ‘If you wish to see change, then be that change’.  If people are not interested in this change so why should we be so bothered? 

Peace from the People

There's something rather strange about hearing "Frosty the Snowman" belting out on a loudspeaker when it's 90 degrees outside, or seeing a skinny Santa dancing to the tune of Baila (local Sinhalese music) at one of Colombo's shopping centres.

Over Christmas, TV and radio stations played Daniel O'Donnell Christmas classics or Boney M's "Mary's Boy Child". Hotels were festooned with elaborate decorations; some of the largest resembling Santa's grotto. One of the most romantic festive images was the lights glimmering in the trees beside the majestic Galle fort as the sun set over the Indian Ocean.

Christmas is quite a big deal in Sri Lanka - a strange paradox considering that Christians account for only around 8 percent of the population. Everyone seems to enjoy shopping and putting up decorations. The question is whether this is a sign of the deadly clutches of globalisation or something else.

For a country that's sometimes classified as racist, the privileges afforded to the main minority communities (Muslim and Christian) speak well of historical tolerance and acceptance. You only have to look at the various places of worship and public holidays given for different religions, not to mention traditional attempts by the establishment to engage and include minorities. But somewhere along the line, this tolerance has been skewed and abused.

Reflecting back on 2007, I remember a December seminar in Colombo entitled "The Aceh Story: Insights". Here representatives from Indonesia - members of the government and the Free Aceh Movement (GAM), academics and Aceh Monitoring Mission personnel - shared their experiences of the Aceh peace process with members of Sri Lankan civil society, in the hope of deriving lessons that could be applied here.

It was the first time in a long while that grassroots groups representing all the island's religions and ethnic configurations had came together under one roof with the aim of building peace. Buddhist monks from the south sat side by side with Tamil social activists from the north and Muslim farmers from the east.

They argued and deliberated for two days to identify some action points for moving forward on a path of peace, respect and understanding. One monk told me at the end: "We have to work together and support each other in order to make this a reality. No one can afford to give up this responsibility and miss this opportunity."

Looking back at 2007 and forward to 2008 - the 60th anniversary of Sri Lanka's independence - there are undoubtedly mixed feelings. For some there is despair, and for others hope. But for the majority, there is uncertainty.

Uncertainty because there are many factors clouding the prospects for a prosperous Sri Lanka: the rising cost of living; deteriorating security; increased corruption; and the growing arrogance of politicians who seem to feel they're beyond the remit of the law. In one recent incident, a minister tried to show his might at a national TV station by attacking the news director for not broadcasting his speech.

There's despair because, despite all the New Year messages of peace, 2008 started with a political assassination, a bomb attack and the straw that broke the camel's back - the annulment of the ceasefire, which could lead to untold suffering.

But there is still hope if you consider the people at the grassroots, like those at the Aceh seminar. They've been on the receiving end of the conflict. Yet they're increasingly waking up to the failures of leadership in addressing pressing issues, not to mention the corruption, abuse of power and lies. And they are becoming aware of their duties.

It is not the elite in Colombo, nor those who claim to represent the people, nor those living safely 'in exile' out of the country who must shoulder the responsibility. It is the grassroots movement that needs to work for peace.

These true people's representatives must push for the respect and understanding of differences and diversity that could move Sri Lanka out of the ideological cesspit and political stalemate of the last 30 years. Those who are genuinely interested in the welfare of others and can work on the basis of a unified community need to raise their game.

Therein lies the challenge for many of us in the humanitarian community. Instead of preaching from the moral high ground or adopting naive political positions, it's high time we got more involved with the grassroots. Why don't we find out what Sri Lankans think rather than assume we know what they want?

The Aceh seminar taught me that, for most Sri Lankans, peace is about greater economic empowerment, better health care and education for their children. It's also about understanding and accepting culture and diversity, alongside equality and freedom of expression.
How do we translate this into practical action? Should we support more inter-cultural programmes to bring communities together by solving waste problems, or boosting alternative energy or microfinance? Is it about organising sports matches for youth and then channelling their energy into community projects? Or is it simply about establishing a platform for people to share ideas and work out how to put them into practice?

What's clear is that Sri Lanka needs some answers pretty quickly. You could describe the situation as a rubber-band effect, in which the country has been stretched about as far as it can go, and the only options are to snap or go back to the middle.
Either way, 2008 has to be a turning point, with Sri Lanka's people taking measures to sort out their own problem. The future is no longer "out there", but in their hands. They've been bitten on too many occasions, and it's high time they bit back.

The Real Stories

As I sat down to as is custom to think about my next blog, I felt reluctant to touch on the security situation in Sri Lanka as perhaps would have been expected, because I felt that enough seems to be said about it without the need for me to elucidate further.

I reflected on a conversation that I had with an old friend of mine who had called from the States to find out ‘whether I was ok?’, since she had heard the situation in Sri Lanka was really bad.  For a moment I lost track of the conversation and assumed that she was talking about how bad Sri Lanka had played on the first day of the first cricket test against England before I realised she was talking about the recent spate of bomb attacks and security situation.

I think the sad fact is that increasingly one becomes desensitised to these unusual occurrences as they become part of every day life.  The mere fact that there are more police and army on the streets of Colombo, more checkpoints, more stop and searches has really not done much to dent people’s enthusiasm to shop or go out to eat, two of the favourite past times in Colombo. 

Whether it is the incredible resilience of people who have seen the highs and lows of this now 24 year old conflict or whether, it is apathy or weariness, one thing is for certain, people will not change their routine.

‘Why should I change?’ remarks Thushan, a manger who works in one of the most security conscious parts of Colombo, the fort, close to Colombo Port, the President’s Office, the World Trade Centre. ‘I can’t change my routine.  It means that those intent on disruption have won.  It takes me longer to get to work because of the security risk, but that’s the price we pay’

Of course those in the north and east would perhaps feel that they have gotten the raw end of the deal with increased security concerns preventing them from free movement.

There is no clear explanations to situations like this.  It is obvious that the losers in all of this are the civilians not only in places like Colombo and the North and East but also elsewhere in the country.

People often say that the south and the west of Sri Lanka are unconcerned with the conflict.  Perhaps not directly but indirectly, issues of poverty and lack of investment also mean that the south (mainly) suffers from malnutrition and extreme poverty.  Vital resources are either diverted for the defence budget or to support re-election campaigns.

In my travels around the country I have been amazed at how many times I have come across the direct contradiction to the assumption that Sri Lanka is a middle income country ‘except in the north and east’

It is this misnomer mainly given by donor governments and development agencies that has meant Sri Lanka for a long time to come will continue to receive skewed funding.

In the meantime, Murali, perhaps one of the greatest cricket players in the world, has taken his world record 709^th text wicket and Sri Lanka have comprehensively romped home to defeat England in Kandy (ironically the last stand of the Sinhalese King against the British colonial rulers).  For a brief period, all of Sri Lanka (without exception) in that quirky and unique Sri Lankan manner (when it comes to cricket) would have united to rejoice this achievement in some way.  Murali (and the cricket team) to some extent represent what Sri Lanka can be: united in all ethnicities and religions where you are judged and rewarded on your merit, your diplomacy and what you can deliver on the field, not who you are or what ethnicity you represent.