Sri Lanka part 5 – New room mates from hell!

Sri Lanka part 5 – New room mates from hell!

‘Shit, I didn’t pick up my torch, where’s my shoes? Why didn’t I think to pick up my torch, I can’t see a bloody thing, it’s pitch black.’ My eyes dart around following the movement of other people’s torches in the hope they’ll flash randomly upon my empty footwear. Torches flashing like fireflies playing hide and seek in the night air. ‘There they are.’ Without bending down, I quickly shove my feet in and stay as close as possible behind a fellow female who’s shining her light on the path in front. The airs chilly. ‘I can see why they all bring blankets to wear around their shoulders on this last meditation. I must remember that tomorrow.’ I realise I’m following the lady dressed in white with the kind face. The one that showed me the working chores. After some winding footsteps along the stone curved path, she shines her torch upon my ‘door’. I smile a thank you in her direction, not sure if she can see it. She waits, and shines her light into my cell, patiently waiting whilst I dig the headtorch out of the backpack. Bowing her head down to her chest and quickly up again, she takes her leave like an angel floating off into the night sky. Looking around the ‘room’ I decide it’ll feel better if I organise the piles of clothes that were hastily strewn around earlier, pre shower, into some sort of organised piles onto the spare bed.  Other than back in my bag, there is nowhere else to put them. ‘Might make it feel a bit warmer in here if I can see my belongings around’. Unpacking takes just minutes and I feel some comfort organising my things into piles. I lay out my silk sleeping sheet and sleeping bag on top of the mattress of the chosen bed. ‘Probably best to leave those Indian cigarettes out of sight in the hood of the backpack. I could kill for one of them right now, there’s no way I’m going to get away with a sneaky one here, it’ll be smelt straight away. Let’s hope smoking becomes out of sight out of mind’. The room still feels cold and empty. It’s definitely sparce. The rickety wooden stand with the candle on is just big enough to fit my small notebook and pen on. My water bottle will need to be placed on the floor. Looking to the ‘washroom pile’ on the spare bed, I collect my toothbrush and toothpaste and retrieve the lighter. ‘At least you’re gonna come in handy’. The lighters new home is now next to the candle. ‘Right, let’s go try out this mindful toothbrushing’.

There’s one other person at the large communal wash basin. It’s probably large enough for 3 of us to stand easily side by side. Its metal and has 1 tap. Looking to my left as brushing commences, there’s a huge opening in the concrete wall. Maybe 3 feet high and 4 feet wide. Like a window but without the glass. Through it, my head torch shines along a pipe travelling up the mountain side. Allowing my eyes to travel the length of the plastic tube I follow it in through the bottom of the wall. ‘Ha, that’s carrying the water to the tap!  Mmmm wonder where that pipe gets the water from? I wonder how the water travels up the pipe. We’re pretty high up this mountain. What makes water travel upwards? Feeling the bristles of the toothbrush as they move around my teeth ‘I wonder what these bristles are made of? All of these years of toothbrushing and I’ve never wondered where or how my toothbrush is made? I’ve never really wondered about how the water connects with the taps in my house either. It’s always just been there. Ha I wonder if this is me being mindful, I wonder if being curious about the stuff around me is being mindful? Makes sense, I guess. Godwin said earlier about being curious about an itch. Taking time to wonder about where the itch starts and ends and what determines that it’s an itch.’ Watching as I spit out the toothpaste into the sink, I turn on the tap and decide to use as small amount of water as possible to wash it down with. ‘I wonder where that goes? There must a couple of pipes I guess, but where does the waste water go? Does it get used or just dumped somewhere, how have I never thought of this stuff before?’ Heading off, walking more slowly than I have all day my mind drifts off :

I’m really not looking forward to getting on that bed in a minute. It’s rock hard. I’ll have to use some piles of clothes as a pillow, if I pile them neatly, I wonder if it might iron them a bit during the night. That’d be a bonus. What if I lay some flat under the coconut mattress, would that straighten them out a bit?

I’d left the wood for the door ajar, didn’t seem much point in closing it. Shutting it behind me and shining the headtorch onto the candle, I light it.

‘Sh##!!!!!!’. My tummy’s bouncing around like a child who’s just been given a trampoline to play on. ‘I can’t do this; I cannot do this!!’ My shrill voice echoes around the silent centre, rebounding off the mountains and returning like a boomerang in search of its thrower. I’ve walked back into the room to find I have new roommates. Throwing the door open and jumping back outside, the palm of my hand flies over my mouth to prevent any other loud noises from escaping. ‘I’m out of here, I can’t do this place’. Sharing a room isn’t on my agenda and definitely NOT with those. My entire body, although stood up, is scrunched as tightly inwards as its able. I cannot believe my eyes. Giant flying cockroaches! ‘Oh god! I don’t wanna be here!’. Get a grip Lisa, get a grip. I can’t stay here, you’ve got no bloody choice, where you gonna go? Where you gonna sleep? Shit!! At least now, although still shouting, the argument is happening inside my head, saving everyone else from hearing. My neighbour, (Miss perfect) appears at her door, eyes startled and wide. Keeping my elbow tight in by my side, I point with a half out stretched finger at what for me, is a horror movie happening in my cell. I’m pretty sure the vibration of their wings is loud enough for her to hear from where she’s stood. Moving in front of me to peer inside, her face relaxes as she takes in her findings. Face void of any emotion, she barely makes eye contact as she serenely turns on her heel and leaves, closing her door gently behind her.  ‘F##k this, you’re just gonna have to sort this out yourself Lisa. I’ve got nothing to catch them with. I couldn’t go near them anyway. There’s no way you can catch these. It’s like cockroaches loaded with red bull. S##t!! What am I going to do? Both hands now moving up and down over my face and eyes as I desperately try to figure out how I can leave this place. I’m adamant I can’t stay here. ‘There’s nowhere for me to go, I’m stuck here. Unless those cockroaches leave, I’m actually going to have to stay in that room with them. I’ll just have to sleep fully inside the sleeping bag, face n all’. With that, I spot my mosquito net in the miscellaneous pile of stuff on the spare bed. ‘Right, let’s get that put up for starters.’ Hesitantly peering in ‘There’s nothing to attach it to. No shelves, no hooks, no bloody nothing!’ I take in the bars covering the plastic windows. ‘Maybe I can somehow tie the top end to those? I’m going to have to try.’ Walking in, half bent over, as if that gives me less chance of head butting one, I snatch up the mosquito net. Attaching it as best I can to the window without lifting my head or arms too high. Dragging the bottom end over the top of the mattress, intermittently screaming, jumping and closing my eyes as a roach flies too close, I drape it mummy style down to the foot of the bed. ‘I’ll just have to tuck it as tight as possible under the mattress and hope that by tucking it tight it keeps it lifted off me.’

The mattress is thin which means the netting is hanging way too loose. ‘It’ll be my body weight that holds it down. If I lay still when I’m in there, it should just about stay lifted off my head if nothing else, oh god, here we go’. Blowing out the candle and releasing as small amount of the netting from the mattress as possible, I scurry underneath to safety. ‘I don’t want those roaches getting in here with me!’ Diving onto the hard platform I rapidly tuck the mosquito net tightly back in all around the mattress.  Hastily tucking leggings into socks, vest and long sleeve tee into the leggings whilst remaining scrunched up, trying to not touch the net is a mission. Once achieved, I climb quickly (and carefully) into my sleeping bag. As long as I lay as still as a mummy throughout the entire night, I won’t touch the sides of the net.  ‘Bloody norah, I forgot to bring something in for a pillow, screw it, I’ll sleep without one, I’m not going back out there. Are cockroaches attracted to light? Shall I sleep with the headtorch on or turn it off. Oh god!!!!’  1 of the roaches has located the mozzi net and appears to be settling down right about where my waist is. My tummy tightens as if doing a grade A stomach crunch. I stay completely still whilst my ears follow the sound of the rapid fluttery wings of the other one. Clearly he has more caffeine on board. ‘Flying cockroaches? I didn’t know they could fly. How the hell have I landed here? No talking, millions of hours of meditation, no smoking, no drinking, no music, no books, no phone calls, no lighting, no electric, metal bars on the windows, no shower, no hot water. Concrete for a bed and coconut hair as a mattress. 14 sleeps and I’m out of here but how the hell am I ever going to sleep?’ Too scared to turn on my side in case the movement, no matter how sleight, disturbs the roach who appears to be shutting down for the night. His wings are folded but I can see his long antennae flickering around, just waiting for a reason to set off again. ‘What if he’s stuck? His legs are in the tiny holes of the net, oh god, I hate this!’ Turning off the headtorch my ears follow the sound of the other one still partying away. ‘They can’t touch you lisa, your tucked in, slow your breathing, they can’t touch you. Close your eyes and think of other things, you love daydreaming, head off somewhere in a daydream.’

I’ve always loved daydreaming. Such a wonderful escape from everyday life. I’ve day dreamed for as long as I can remember. Creating new scenarios, fantasy worlds. I always hated being snapped out of a daydream. On long journeys as a child, I’d often pretend to be asleep just so I could drift off into Lisa land. My own private world where everything was just as I wanted t to be.

‘C’mon, Daydream Lisa, think of being somewhere else….

Aaaaah the islands. Where did I get to with the island of dreams….

Russels silent tears seemed to be the only way of truly expressing the feeling that the island invoked. It’s like, as soon as a part of our bodies connected with her, she gently and softly glided into our souls and caressed and soothed all of the hurts and pains we’d ever experienced. Literally bringing grown men to their knees. It was the softest, gentlest, warmest of feelings. If only we could transcend feelings without words. After a few silent moments, we each collected our backpacks, thanked the fisherman who was immediately turning around to begin is homebound journey in a boat that now floated appropriately on the top of the water. As if his wooden friend had miraculously grown a propeller, he was off. Anyone would think that 5 westerners and all their stuff discarded, lightened his load somewhat.

‘What do you reckon? I say to any of the other 4. Which way shall we go? The only other female, Debbie, answers, ‘Let’s just walk that way and see what’s round there. Using the bucket in her right hand as a pointy stick she gestures towards the right side of the island.’ We all begin to walk at differing speeds. I’m 2^nd to front with Debbie leading and the guys are single file behind with perhaps 15 metre distances between them. There’s not much chatting. The feeling of euphoria begins to bubble in my tummy once again as I breathe in the bright humid air while my eyes soak in the clear ocean. I’m so grateful I’ve carried my, until now, unused snorkel, mask and flippers around India for 3 months. Snorkelling here is going to be amazing. Although looking at the clearness of the ocean they may not even be needed. Walking far in this heat with this amount of stuff isn’t going to be doable. Having bought supplies last night, we’re now even more loaded down. The silk hammock I had made takes up no space at all but the bright pink tarpaulin is weighing on me as well as the packets upon packets of chicken super noodles. Each of us is carrying 10 litres of fresh water. ‘Thank god we brought those noodles. There really isn’t going to be anywhere to buy food here. Not sure I’ve got nearly enough for 6 weeks though’. After only about 20 minutes Debbie and I stop. We’re exhausted. The heat is excruciating. ‘Guys shall we just stop here?’ It seems as good a spot as any. The scenery is the same beautifully tree lined beach with every step we take. Here, there are a couple of trees stretching out over the beach as if attempting to reach into the refreshing ocean. Dropping our cargo, I strip off my wet clothes and enter the refreshing ocean. Like a whistling kettle the steam releases out of my head. ‘Awwwww bliss! Come on guys, come on in and cool down’. ‘We need to get sorted first Lisa. We need to make our shelter and prepare a fire. We need to make sure we’re ready for dark. When it goes dark here it will come in really quick. We need to be ready. Go collect firewood’. This is Stu. He’s not looking impressed with my impromptu sea swim. ‘We’re going to need to get a fire going soon’. Dumping my stuff on the ground by a tree that I reckon my hammock will swing nicely from, I head off in search of fire wood. Looking around I’ve no idea what firewood looks like. I’ve never made a fire before.

We had an open fire in one of the many houses we lived in when I was a child but that just had coal on it. I’ve no idea what I’m looking for. ‘What’s firewood look like?’ I shout out whilst my eyes scan the forest ground.

‘You’ve got to be kidding?’ shouts Stu, who clearly is feeling rather impatient with me.

‘I’ve never made a fire, is it any wood that’s lying on the ground or specific wood?’

‘Any wood that will burn well’.

‘How am I supposed to know which wood burns well? I don’t know how to make a fire’.

‘Just collect wood Lisa!’

I’m feeling really stupid. Really stupid and embarrassed. Like somehow, I should already know which wood burns well. Like I should have gone on some outdoor rainforest course before this impromptu trip. I’ve gone from feeling ecstatic about putting up a hammock to my mood plummeting as I feel like a first class fool because I don’t know which wood we need to make a fire. I grab random bits of wood (sticks) off the floor and chuck them in a pile in the middle of the bags. Russel, one of the guys reappears with what appears to be a ginormous pile of wood. ‘Awww that’s the kind of wood you want’. It was wood of different thicknesses and lengths. Off I go again to find some wood that might actually burn for a while. On arriving back 2 of the others, Stu and Debs, have put up their hammocks and created a fire pit in the sand. Grabbing my hammock and string I choose the 2 trees overhanging the beach. I’m so excited. Having spent 3 days lying beneath others swinging away on the deck of that ship, I can’t wait to get involved. It takes some trial and error. I’ve never put a hammock up before and I feel stupid once again as I try to figure out how to tie it securely around the trees. Apprehensively testing out each time by gingerly sitting in it and hoping I don’t thump to the ground. When I’ve done it, I’m super excited and take a moment to enjoy lying back and swinging. ‘I really have died and gone to heaven’. ‘Here I am, Lisa Dick, born on a council estate in Leicester, from a working-class family with no money, swinging away on a deserted tropical Island. Who says miracles don’t happen?’ In that moment I have a thought. Now that I’ve had it, I can’t think for a minute, why none of us have had it before now. ‘We hired that fisherman to get us here, but how the hell are we going to get off. There’s no-one here but us?’