One one things

The London conference was probably the most important one for me since it was the culmination of over 6 months work in a totally new area for me, and the work would have to stand the scrutiny of experts in the field from all over. There were participants from Trinidad, Ghana, Nigeria, Vietnam, the USA, Canada, Germany, England, World Bank, UN, AfDB, IMF - and more. I landed fairly early in the morning and took the tube to Victoria. I was half smiling as I rushed into the train with the doors still open, and in between gasps for breath I asked a fellow passenger if this is going towards Central, the guy looked back at me and in a strong South African accent said “your guess is as good as mine mate, we’ve just arrived.” Ah, London at its cosmopolitan best. Later on I helped them find the quickest route to Paddington and felt so at home. The conference was about an hour and a half from London, in an old country manor - Wilton Park - in West Sussex that is now a conference centre focusing on international relations. The house was more like a castle, it was surrounded by acres of farm, had its own little chapel and beautiful interior design, cozy despite the extent of stone. I wasn’t due to speak till the next day so I relaxed and spent some time talking to the other participants, enjoying the food (which was some of the best English food i’ve eaten) and made a few friends.

The Trinidadian prof stuck in my mind the most. He walked up to me and said, “you’re from Sri Lanka, we were all hoping you would win the cricket my friend, someone had to teach those Australians a lesson. But whatever happened, your team gave a wonderful account of themselves, both on the field and off it.” I was so happy and proud to hear that, it felt like he was talking about my family or my closest friends, and I caught myself saying thank you. The Africans are always nice to speak to, and this conference had invited a couple of African parliamentarians and they turned up in their fabulous clothes - you can always trust an African to have the most exciting and vibrant attire at any international event - their booming laughter and big smiles. One of the nicest guys I met was the chairman. Easily the best chair i’ve seen at any conference, he managed things beautifully with great wit, control and tact. There were also the odd anti-west, anti-globalisation voices - lauding Chavez for his stand against the neo-liberal world order, and speaking of regional blocs from the NAM days. Good luck to them.

My session went well and I had good feedback which was a relief. To celebrate we went down to the nearest pub in Steyning - a good 30 mins walk from the conference centre, at around 10pm. It was pretty chilly and the road was pitch black, but the company was good - a Bolivian economist, a French guy from the OECD, an Indian attached to G24. It was freezing cold and pitch black, I was glad to get back to the room for a nice sleep under the duvet. I went back to London that evening, made a Bee-line to the Crispy Duck in China town for a classic oil infused dinner, crashed at a friends place bc the flight was the next day. Woke up late the next morning and had lunch at Cuba Libre in Angel (fantastic pork and duck dishes and mixed appetizers), followed by crepes and coffee in our old South Ken haunt. I really miss London. Flying back home was quite fun bc it was on Qatar and the flight was full of chaps returning home from the Middle East. There was so much joy in that plane, there were only about 3 ppl who were not returning from the Middle East and the rest made it feel like we were going on a school trip. Friends huddled together and giggled about holiday plans and the new goods they had purchased. As we descended into SL we flew through clouds much to the delight of the passengers who hooted when the plane bumped bc of the turbulence - “Onna wadinawa wadinawa, ohhh hooo!” We approached Colombo from the West coast and there was a temple quite close to the sea, one of the girls pointed and asked if that’s the Shri Maha Bodhiya. It was sad though to see such young and clearly naive girls being thrown into the world of migrant labour. Small wonder they run into so many problems there. I got back home, spent the evening with friends in the comfort of the SSC pool and indulged in some hot butter cuttlefish - I was off to Dhaka in 36 hours.

Between the first week of May and the first week of June I did the most travelling I’ve done in my life. Sadly none of it was for pleasure, though they all had their moments. During this period between May 9th and June 7th, I set foot in 5 countries, 7 airports and spent 47 hours in the air. I traveled a distance of 37690km, and my average speed for the entire month was 56km/h. I was effectively breaking the Colombo speed limit as I slept. And thank heavens it’s over. Most ppl i speak to think it’s glamourous and exciting to travel for work, but it really isn’t unless you’re very lucky. Late last year I was very lucky bc I had to go to Delhi and present a paper at a conference where I didn’t have to be present at any other sessions, so I had a free hand to do whatever i wanted over the other 2 days. But that’s a very rare gem, most of the time there’s no chance to breathe between work, formal receptions and mandatory sleep. This was pretty much the case for the 4 trips last month, but somehow I managed to squeeze in some amusement for each of them. But as I said, i’m glad it’s over. It’s an extremely tiring process, particularly hanging around in airports, lugging bags back and forth, living out of a suitcase, jet lag and the lack of time between trips. I miss my dog a hell of a lot, I miss home cooked food and annoyingly I had to work on every weekend of May, missing two trips in SL with friends. A few snippets from the different journeys will follow.

Delhi - I touched on Delhi in a previous post about the civil service. There really was very little free time in Delhi, there were 2 days worth of discussions and dinner reception on the first night, leaving the 2nd evening off to explore. I was really tired by then, and since I had already done Delhi before I had half a mind to just kick back and chill for the 4 hours before going to the airport. But thankfully common sense prevailed and I flicked through the Delhi pages of my Lonely Planet and discovered that Humayun’s Tomb was close by and I hadn’t seen it last time. I got into a pair of shorts and T shirt and stepped into the dry heat of Delhi, side stepped a couple of cabbies who tried to convince me to go shopping to Connaught Square instead. “Tomb? what tomb, only dead people. Come I take shopping, handicrafts, spices, saris for your girl, come come, only Rs. 100.” I smiled and walked away as he clicked his tongue in annoyance. If ever possible I prefer to walk to my destinations when i’m exploring another city, there’s no better way to experience a place. The half hour walk took me past a few street cricket games, some slums, a drain that was particularly harsh on the olfactory system and some pleasantly wooded government buildings. Humayun’s Tomb is one of the first major pieces of Moghul architecture in the city, and I read that the Taj Mahal would later be modelled on this. It’s a stunning complex, the main building is breathtaking with its perfect symmetry, and typical moghul domes and curves. I walked around the gardens, trying to imagine what it would have looked like when it was abuzz with action, servants running back and forth, guards and messengers on horseback, and royalty living off the luxury. A peacock’s cry helped my imagination take flight. Besides Humayun’s tomb, the tomb of his wife, Haji Begum, who had Humayun’s tomb built by a Persian architect, is also within the same complex.

The tomb closes to visitors at sundown so I headed back to the hotel where I was due to meet a Bhutanese participant for dinner. We ate at a Thai restaurant, and the coconut milk based hot and sour soup was the best Thai food i’ve ever had. Fresh kaffir lime leaves, lemmon grass, corriander and juicy prawns. I can’t think of too many better combinations. The Bhutanese guy was interesting, a trade negotiator by profession, he was on his way to Mongolia to meet some negotiators over there who had been arrested for making a mess of Mongolian negotiations in a bilateral agreement. I’m going to try and stay in touch with him bc it’s notoriously difficult to travel to Bhutan, and he would be a useful contact to facilitate things. There was a short, sharp shower just before I left for the airport, and it was sharp enough to submerge a couple of roads leading to the airport. My transport was a smallish Maruti, and while cars and jeeps took the more circuitous route to avoid the water, my guy decided to take the partially submerged road and avoid the traffic. The water level looked ominous, and just ahead a van had stalled and its driver was on the road, sarong hitched up, trying to coax it back to life. A little way ahead a couple of cars had given up the ghost too. I was nervous, I wasn’t wearing socks, I decided then that if he gets stuck it’s his problem, I’m not stepping out of the vehicle. By some miracle we ploughed through the flood, not before raising my blood pressure to more than a healthy level, and got to the airport. One down, three to go.