travelswithalice

September 04, 2005

A Sri Lankan Safari

At the entrance to the Yala National Park, a meter-high weather-beaten sign says:

THROUGH THESE GATES YOU ENTER A PROTECTED AREA.

THE ANIMALS, BIRDS, THE WATER, TREES, THE BREEZE ON YOUR FACE AND EVERY GRAIN OF SAND ARE GIFTS THAT NATURE HAS PASSED ON TO YOU THROUGH YOUR ANCESTORS SO THAT YOU MAY SURVIVE.

THESE GIFTS ARE SACRED AND SHOULD BE RESPECTED.

WHISPER A SILENT PRAYER AS YOU PASS THROUGH FOR THE PROTECTION OF WILDERNESS AROUND YOU AND ENSURE THAT WHAT YOU SEE AND FEEL IS PASSED ON TO THE UNBORN CHILDREN STILL TO COME.

We’re in Palatupana, near the south eastern tip of Sri Lanka. We had spent a good part of the day on the road from Colombo and have just arrived at camp. The camp is really a hotel consisting of a cluster of well-appointed chalets that have been woven through a forest. It sits just outside the nature reserve, beside a waterhole. Our chalet is on stilts, facing the sea.

Our chalet is on stilts

It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and as we had skipped lunch to save time on the long drive, we have a quick snack in the deserted dining hall. Everyone else had already left for the reserve.

If only our car and driver hadn’t waited for us that morning at the wrong hotel! And if only we didn’t have to make a detour to his office and then buy petrol before we could actually get started at ten o’clock! Anyway…

We dump our bags in our chalet, grab our cameras, and hoist ourselves onto the Land Rover. I’m in the front seat beside our driver Ruwan. Stuart is in back with the tracker, Premadasa.

This is me, chronically plagued with sinus headaches and hyper-allergic to heat, dust, sweat, and the outside world in general, now in a jeep with no air conditioning, no windows even, and very little by way of shock absorbers.

So, do I care? Uh-uh, not when I’m about to go on the adventure of a lifetime!

Our first wild elephant

We had already seen our first wild elephant on the road to Yala, although our Colombo driver told us it was semi-tame. It was really wild but it had taken to coming to the side of the road at the edge of the reserve, right up to the electrified wire fence, to await the food offered it by passers-by.

A family of monkeys crosses the road and gazes at us disinterestedly from the roadside. Ruwan and Premadasa call out the names of various birds as we trundle along the dirt road, occasionally stopping and reversing whenever they see something interesting.

I spy a deer through a screen of dry scrub. Proud and excited to see it first, I point it out to Stuart; our guides hadn’t spotted it.

A peacock preens in the distance surrounded by very cool, unimpressed hens. Stuart and I get busy with our cameras.

At the first waterhole, a gentle wind cools my face and neck. There are spotted deer, buffalo, boars, herons, storks, and a variety of small birds. They’re all out for a drink and a stroll. It’s a scene straight out of National Geographic. It reminds me of the Italian paseggiata, when everyone comes out to the town after dinner to mingle.

Paseggiata at the waterhole

We move on. The next waterhole is crawling with crocodiles. Well, they’re not really crawling. In fact they’re not doing anything at all. They lie there; half submerged in the murky water or sprawled on the edge, with their mouths wide open, not moving.

Ruwan spies an elephant through the brush and quickly turns right at the next path towards it. It had just crossed the road ahead so we make a U-turn and reverse towards it.

Our guides explain that the elephant only goes one way so it’s safe for us to go right up behind it.

Elephants only go one way

We’re so close! I can almost reach out and touch it! Our guides feel the need to tell us that this animal is wild and dangerous and remind us that we are to stay in the vehicle at all times.

Another waterhole, another gathering. There are more deer at this one.

On the road ahead, a pair of elephants disappears into the brush. A smaller one follows a few seconds later. Ruwan springs into gear. We back up, turn left, turn right, then we stop.

The animals soon turn up behind us. We’re moving again, racing to the waterhole where we await the trio, making certain we don’t block their path.

They come along, mother in front, two kids in back, heading towards the water. They waddle in quietly, their trunks steadily scooping water into their mouths.

Three other vehicles had come to watch. A few giggles and snickers as one of the bathing party relieves itself in the water. They start swimming and playing around. At one point the mother rears up on two legs and scoops water into the mouth of one of her babies.

Beside me, Ruwan is saying, “Good photo, madam!” And I realize that I had been so engrossed in watching this water ballet that I had forgotten all about the camera in my hand!

The mother soon gets out of the water to dry herself on the bank while she watches over her brood lingering in the water, taking playful swipes at each other.

We stay and watch and take photos for a long time.

The sea is spectacular

A final stop on this first day on safari is the beach. The sea is spectacular, a brilliant blue sending sprays of foamy white as it hits the rocks seemingly strategically placed there by some stage designer. It’s a beautiful spot.

But the ruined remains of several beach bungalows and the piles of dry branches swept up all around are grim reminders of the recent tragedy that had been inflicted so grievously on this island paradise.

“Tsunami,” Ruwan murmurs simply. “Fifty-seven people died here, including fourteen Japanese tourists staying in this district bungalow.”

Of the 300,000 or so lives claimed by the December tsunami that decimated whole communities in several Southeast Asian countries on the shores of the Indian Ocean, about 30,000 were lost in Sri Lanka, including 3,000 in a single town.

It is a sobering end to an otherwise exhilarating day.

Tsunami site

In Colombo, earlier in the week, our host at dinner had said, to shake off the feeling of dread over some other unrelated tragedy that had crept into our dinner conversation, “Life goes on.” It’s not original but it sure does the job. We shake off the black mood.

On the road back to camp, monkeys swing from trees and scamper across the road. A mongoose sprints across in front of the jeep. A family of elephants- minus the father of course, as the males are solitary creatures- pads across the road in front of us.

We race ahead around the scrub again, giving chase. We soon give up as the animals plunge deeper into the jungle on their way home.

Later that evening after dinner, we go up to the roof-deck for a spectacular display of stars in the velvet tropical night sky.

In the chalet, the room-boy renders a free-hand sketch of an elephant, using bits of greenery from the flower offering he then leaves on the bed.

Life does go on and life is beautiful. Tomorrow, we hope to see leopards.

An elephant sketched in flowers

POSTSCRIPT
About that leopard.

I never did see one as I didn’t get up early enough for the 5 o’clock game drive.

"They'll all be asleep!" The camp manager gleefully called out as we got into our Land Rover after breakfast.

At that time of day all the animals scurry away into their holes to escape the heat of the noon-day sun. Very smart of the animals.

Well, not all of them. We saw crocodiles cruising on muddy creeks. There were monitor lizards sprawled on tree branches. A party of wild boar picked lazily on the carcass of a fallen buffalo. Deer, buffalo and various birds posed at every waterhole for tableaux worthy of any wildlife magazine. We saw monkeys, mongoose, and more birds.

Leopards we didn't see.

I did learn my lesson though. On safari, the early morning start is not negotiable.

Labels: safari, Sri Lanka

posted by Alice Dimalanta Jones # September 04, 2005

travelswithalice

September 04, 2005

A Sri Lankan Safari

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