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School
kids brave the rain in Jaffna. On the way
to Nagadipa, the human element of this destruction hits us, the
small crowd of eight travelling in a hired van. A Tamil academic
from Colombo stops the vehicle to inspect several shells of houses,
uniformly surrounded by typical peninsula vegetation of tall palmyrah
palm and shrub. "This was my brother's house,' "this was
my sister's house'' 'this was my cousin's house'' he says, in what
I see as a state of benumbed detachment. Finally, he arrives at
his fondest brother's house. But the army has settled and put up
camp in the shell of that home. He tells the army men that that
house used to be his brother's and with due permission, paces the
rooms and corridors, the bathrooms and kitchen, for old time's sake. As we enter
Pungudithivu via the causeway a signboard in Sinhala alerts us to
the hearts and minds operation. It says at the entry point to this
string of islands South West of the peninsula '' sahodara demala
janathavage pipasaya sansindooveema pinisaya.'' (In order to quench
the thirst of our brother Tamil citizens.) It is a thirst aid station
put up by the army. Island towns
they say (take Kayts) turned fast from UNP strongholds led by the
most successful and persevering entrepreneurs of Jaffna, into hotbeds
of rebellion. There seems to be simmering tension in the islands
these days, with the Navy and LTTE political operatives not showing
much love lost between them. Despite sporadic clashes in Velanai
etc., a full-blown conflagration has been avoided. After all,
this is where swords have been turned to ploughshares, or rather,
artillery shells into temple totems. (All the joss-sticks and the
incense burnt at the Nagadipa Buddhist vihara in Nainathivu, is
stuck in sand that has been dug into discarded artillery shells,
provided courtesy the army.) It is Poya day when we go there, in
Nagadipa, and Navy and Air Force men are here in their multitude,
being pious and making their offerings of flowers before the small
silver painted dagoba. The long line of army issue boots near the
temple parapet, says things more eloquently. At the Naga
kovil there is steaming hot rice and curry for all comers - this
is the daily kovil dana, served on dried palmyrah leaf, and poured
from buckets. A lady speaks to me in Tamil, and seeing no sign of
comprehension she surprises me with "are you from Colombo?''
"We are from Kotahena '' she says. It is time to travel - -
and this part of the country is steeped in legend that cannot be
erased, no matter how searing the conflict. This peninsula
assaults the senses, and it alternates fast between rude reminders
of war, and unmistakable reminders of a Jaffna of the spacious,
largely anglicized past. Half of Jaffna's street names speak of
the colonial hangover, but a lot of these may lead to refugee camps
(such as Sabhapathi) where people have been living in a limbo for
an eternity. Who is thrilled more it is hard to tell - when our
photographer takes pictures of small refugee kids, particularly
one naked five year fellow with a smile and a raised finger, who
tells all others to shut-up for the cameraman. Sabhapathi maybe
a paylmyrah shaded ghetto, but ghetto is a ghetto, particularly
for people who have known a better life once… An evening
is spent pondering all of this, at a rendezvous near the Jaffna
hospital. Three of us start strolling down to Kachcheri Road where
we are lodged. Dozens of large garrish colour female nudes are pinned
onto a wall, in what looks like a dormitory. This is the army barracks
near Chundikuli girls school - maybe the army forgot hearts and
minds at this place, and just went for lust. But the Chundikuli
girl's school is not happy, or so we have heard. The LTTE wants
the army out of high-security zones. The Chundikuli girls want the
army to take their lust elsewhere. One way or another, this peninsula
keeps springing surprises, and continues to assault your senses.
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Copyright © 2001 Wijeya Newspapers
Ltd. All rights reserved. |
Richard
Armitage went there and said he was saddened by the destruction.
The town like some Maccano-set maze of roofless yellow pocked houses
would however present the face of scores of other peninsula locations.
