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| Sunday, 13 March 2005 |
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Telling Tales Sans Shelter Dilini looked at Dias questioningly. Thunder and lightning answered instead. Dias didn't know what to say, he looked helpless. The sound of the heavy downpour would have blocked his answer anyway. His eyes failed to smile. He felt uncomfortable squatting on the table. Dilini sat on the bed beside the baby.
They were a fisher family. The whole village lived on fishing. At a glance their village looked like paradise. The huts were of the same size and the sight of them through the green coconut trees created a magnificent scene. The golden sand and the shining waters of the sea enhanced the beauty of the village. The huge statue of St. Anthony solemnly watched over the lives of these fishermen. The lillies in his hand, were fluttering in the breeze, full of the fragrance of Wettakeiya flowers. Adding to the beauty, there was a line of fishing boats along the beach. Except for the few Kottamba trees under which naked children built sand castles, the whole place was covered with mauve Bimthamburu flowers. The beauty of the village disguised the tears and sighs of the villagers. Monsoon Until the great Monsoons blew each year and disturbed their life style, they had no great fears or worries. They caught enough fish to live the day, and were contented with their life style. St. Anthony protected the women and children on the beach and St. Peter cared for the husbands at sea. In a world there were a thousand things to be worried about, but they only feared the rain. Dilini and Dias now looked as if they were prepared for a long journey and were waiting for the baby to wake up. All their belongings, though not much, were packed and were on the table next to Dias. Had he put his legs down and sat properly his feet too would have disappeared in the water. The rising level of the water added to their fear that the Cadjan hut will blown away by the storm. To their relief the red and blue mattress on which the baby slept did not absorb any water. Thus the baby slept as if nothing happened. The filthy Shelter The parents, who had faced this calamity several times before, dreaded the alternative; shelter at the school. There they would be packed with whining children and their distraught mothers. Men would be separated into another hall. These halls would serve as kitchens, dining halls, sleeping places and small children's toilets. As a result the place would become dirty. Adding to this fifth, there would be thousands of flies and an unbearable stench. This horror would remain till the rain stops and the water level reduced. Though they yearned to put up a brick house, they could not save enough money, as they were cheated by the Malu Mudalali who bought their fish for a pittance. Irrespective of their dislike over the common shelter, every year the Monsoons came. Dilini remembered her adolescence having been spent in these, packed halls during the rainy season and she had wowed that she would not let any child of hers face the same disgusting experience. Tears welled in her eyes, falling like raindrops, and her dreams of a permanent house flowed away with her tears. Dilini was not content with the life they led. She saw the suffering and the pain of the villagers, once the veil of beauty was removed. She wanted to open the eyes of the villagers to reality. she wanted to show how they were being cheated by the Malu Mudalali. She wanted to make people aware, why they had to fear a natural force like rain. Had the Mudalali not exploited them they would have built better houses, and stayed safely within no matter how hard it rained outside. Dilini looked at her baby. She didn't feel like taking her child to the school hall. Dias read her thoughts and remained silent without proposing to go there. He knew what the school halls would deteriorate, once they got there, and he was afraid to expose the baby to the germs and dirt and the shouting. Nor did he like leaving his wife and child in a separate hall where they were not under his care. "Dias, Dias are you there? The boat is here to fetch us. All are going to the school for shelter. Come out quick!" The shouting of their friend Vincent brought them out of their dreamy slumber to reality. Dias looked at Dilini, who nodded. However, much she hated it, there was no point in staying in their hut. The wind would blow the roof off. If not, the whole hut would collapse once the clay walls got soaked. The red and blue mattress would not be of any help then, even now it was about to float. Rescue As usual, the nearby villagers provided their food for the first few days. Next, Reverend Father Basil would inform Charity organisations community welfare organisations and other NGOs to give them dry food, rich children's clothes and luxuries like the red and blue mattress which they also got last year. The people would take whatever they could from these vehicles. They sold most of these donations to the nearby shop at half price afterwards. But then, it was necessary to do so. Once the water level went down, what they would need first, would be items needed to repair their broken huts. They needed a place to stay. They could not stay in the school hall for ever. It affected the education of the children of all the villages. They sold the luxury items, at the price the Mudalali offered, they could survive without these. It was only when they sold dry rations that they bargained. They couldn't make up their mind to sell food, but shelter came first. They had to have a place even to cook and eat. NGO lorries seldom brought any cadjan, ropes or wooden planks, to put up their huts. Even finding clay was difficult as they lived on the coast. As a result these materials had to be bought. The poor people who lived a hand to mouth existence, did not have any savings for such emergencies. Thus, they sold what they got as aid, and bought the necessities. During the last monsoon, Dias had insisted that they sell the red and blue mattress as well. But Dilini had liked it so much and said that it would come in handy one day. Though it didn't save them from the calamity, this time too Dilini took it to the school hall with the rest of their belongings. For Dilini it was not just a mattress. It was a symbol of the world she wanted to join. Dias only wanted the money. Being a part of Mudalali's culture didn't mean much to him. All he wanted was to live happily. He caught enough fish for a day, and for him 'calamities like heavy rain was inevitable'. But Dilini cared about the future and the child. When Dias grew old, he wouldn't be able to catch as much fish. She wanted to change the way Mudalali treated them. Back to normal Once the rains ceased and they were settled, the husbands went back to sea to earn their daily bread. They worked hard and spent sleepless nights away from their families, beaten by cold winds and threatened by high tide. But their sleepy eyes shone with joy when they returned in the morning with loads of fish. However, large the catch was, it did not promise a better future for the fishermen. They were cheated by the Malu Mudalali who bought the fish at half price to transport them to other towns. The price they got was not enough even to buy the food they needed. Dilini's dreams floated beyond her reach. Dilini kept on praying though she saw no escape from their tragedy. But the real tragedy lay in the fact that these fishermen spent all their hard earned money to buy back the very same food which they had sold to the Mudalali at half price. by Ruth Cole |
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To Dias it appeared as if she was sitting in a boat. The water level
had risen up to the mattress, and the legs of the bed disappeared
completely in the surrounding pool. The baby was not disturbed by the
parents' fears. As the heavy winds blew in from the broken window window
panes, Dilini shivered, but the sleeping baby smiles as if angels were
blowing winds from the heavens above. 
