New Intro

My Dad suggested that I write a better intro for the whole epic, so here goes:

Just before walking into the Charlottesville Target on a Sunday morning to buy Pepto-Bismol and sunscreen in mass quantities, my boyfriend Dan stopped me on the sidewalk just outside of the automatic doors and turned to face me. “Look, everyone goes through three phases of culture shock,” he explained. “First there’s the enchantment phase where everything is strange and wonderful. Then the anger and disillusionment phase where you can’t get anything done the way you want. If you persevere through the anger and disillusionment, you might make it to acceptance and live a productive life in the host culture. I’m going to do my best to help you in each phase any way I can,” he solemnly promised me, kissing my hand.

“Well, at least I have enchantment to look forward to,” I remarked sarcastically, entering the over-air-conditioned store from the warm summer air. A massive shiver shook my entire body and goose-bumps spread over my exposed arms. I grabbed a cart and headed toward the medical supply aisle.

“You know,” Dan remarked, “Serendib is the old Arab trader name for Sri Lanka, that’s the root of the word serendipity.”

“Hmm, that’s interesting,” I replied as I studied the various types of Band-Aids available, trying to find the right combination package.

“People say that it’s the island of unsought rewards from accidental discoveries,” he told me.

“You know, I remember looking at a big coffee table book of photographs of World Heritage sites a few years ago,” I replied, moving out of the medical supply aisle heading for the cosmetics. “I came to a picture of Sri Lanka, of that fortress made out of a single rock. I remember being incredibly stunned by its beauty and thinking ‘too bad I’ll never go there, its way to dangerous.’ This is after I had been to Turkey, South Africa, India, Egypt, Peru, and all of that, so I was no travel lightweight. I remember looking at the picture and admiring the fortress’s command of the misty valley. I felt sad that I would never physically experience that place.”

“That was probably Sigiriya,” Dan replied, “and we can go see it easily. It’s a short day’s drive from where we’ll be living in Kandy.”

“It’s still just so strange,” I continued, “Sri Lanka has always seemed like a no-go to me, even though I have been to these places where terrorist groups actively target tourists and tourist attractions, like in Egypt, or the PKK in Turkey or the Shining Path in Peru.”

“The LTTE has sought to hinder the tourist trade, but it has never attacked tourists,” Dan explained. “The LTTE is funded by a large ex-pat community that is still seeking international validity. They don’t want to be seen as a terrorist organization, they want to be seen as a minority separatist organization fighting for a homeland, so they leave the tourists alone. Just don’t walk next to the Army Commander or a prominent Tamil politician and you’ll be fine,” he joked.

“Since you’re research is on Buddhist belief and ritual in the army, don’t you sometimes stand next to the Army Commander?” I asked concerned.

“Not very often,” Dan replied smiling.

“So you’ve been going to Sri Lanka for what now, ten years?” I asked

“Right, starting with the undergrad semester in Sri Lanka program and all the way up through my PhD now.” Dan replied.

“Ok, so, how close have you come? I mean how close have you been to the so-called ethnic conflict?” I asked

“Well, one time when I was a Fulbrighter I was in an area of Colombo a few hours before a suicide bomb went off. I was on the bus back to Kandy when I heard about it,” Dan replied. “But that’s it, and I’ve spent a total of four years in-country when you add up all the time. Besides, we’ll be living in Kandy, up in the hills. Kandy is its own world up there.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I agreed. “I’m sure I am much more likely to get hit by bus or something much more mundane,” I joked.

“Right!” Dan agreed. “You are much, much more likely to get hit by a bus,” he laughed.

“Seriously though, things are starting to go bad in Sri Lanka now, we both know that. The Army Commander was just blown up and there is fighting in the north. The 2004 ceasefire is falling apart. How bad would things have to be before you would consider leaving?” I asked, stopping the cart.

“As long as the fighting was contained,” Dan replied. “As long there is not wide-scale civil unrest.” I nodded my head in agreement and started off to find flip-slops.