Page of 12

I t‟s 5:00 p.m. and we are near the Taj Ho-

tel, in Kattankudy, a small Muslim town on

the east coast of Sri Lanka. The Taj is not

really a hotel, it‟s a restaurant that serves the

best samosas around. Every afternoon they

put out extra tables piled with chicken, beef,

vegetable and egg samosas, and large chillies

stuffed with meat and fish, along with beef and

fish patties, and a variety of other snacks, as

the crowds gather. I discovered it by accident

one day, and have stopped by ever since.

The server recognises me and smiles “how

August/September 2010

The foundation is dug for the kitchen at Kathiroli

A young girl smiles at us in Kokadichcholai

Taj Restaurant

The Ferry Sivayogam Girls Home

Kathiroli Boy’s Home

Shakthi Girl’s home

Katherivali Girls Home

Hotel Riviera

The distance between the Hotel Riviera and Sivayogam Girls Home is only about 20 km, but it takes between 2 - 3 hours to travel.

Page 2 of 12

many today? Ten? Fifteen?” he asks holding up

his fingers. I order ten, five chicken and five

beef, and we split them amongst ourselves.

There‟s Raju my contact and old friend from

2005, when I first came out here after the Tsu-

nami. He helped us find suppliers, negotiated

the best deals, and organised delivery – some-

times using his own Tuk-Tuk (Three Wheeler).

He‟s been an incredible source of help, assis-

tance and knowledge and carefully guides me

away from any major cultural blunders. There‟s

also Terri, a friend

of my wife‟s

whose innocent

question at a

book club last fall

landed her here

12,500 miles

away from the

comforts of north

Toronto, along

with her daughter

Jade. And there‟s

Karu the new

driver. He‟s

smart, quiet and

has a ready smile.

We head off to the Shakthi Girls home in Ko-

kadichcholai, across the lagoon but are held up

at the dock waiting for the ferry to load. It‟s a

low slung, flat bed, with a

precarious list. The 30 foot

cargo area has moveable

ramps on each end, and

they cram it with two or

three vehicles, 35 bikes,

and about 50 people, along

with the occasional cow or goat. All of this is

powered by a little 25 hp Yamaha that sits in a

small “control cabin” clinging desperately to the

side. It‟s like moving a house with a motor

Deserted beach near Katherivali

The road to Kokadichcholai The control room for the ferry

The Ferry

A young boy at Kathiroli. The white marks on his face are from powder being applied to his forehead as a blessing

Page 3 of 12

bike. We start off and they flip the ferry

around, to squeeze more late comers onto the

front ramp before

heading for the dock

across the lagoon.

It is the end of the

dry season and the

slight breeze is no

match for the 40+

temperatures, mak-

ing me wish I had

stayed inside with

the others. The

landing is more of a

soft crash and we

set off on badly broken roads, barely wide

enough for the van, through dried up shrimp

beds and rice

paddies to the

Orphanage.

The girls greet

us and help

unload the van

as carton after

carton of exer-

cise books, in-

strument

boxes, text

books, maps,

lined and

unlined paper,

pens, pencils

and art books

start to pile up.

We then get to

my favourite

part; the toys.

The girls form a line starting with the youngest,

and we give out little plastic tea sets, dolls,

small xylophones, and little guitars, but there

are so few young girls. Their sizes can be de-

ceiving. Lack of proper nutrition during their

early childhood have made

them thinner and shorter, and

the 16 year olds are only

inches above the 10 year olds.

We give the older ones

watches, earrings, makeup,

hair clips and bangles; there‟s

a rush for these, and in min-

utes they are all gone.

It‟s dark as we stop at the

Kathiroli Boy‟s home where

they are constructing the new

kitchen. The boys line up in a

large room which serves as their study hall.

A holy man rides his bike.

A young girl from Sivayogam Orphanage smiles for the camera

Cloth for Butterfly Garden Two on a bike

The road to Katherivali.

Page 4 of 12

There is part of a second storey on the roof; re

-bar sticking out of concrete pillars - one day I

must ask about that. More piles of school sup-

plies are brought in and stacked up. We then

give the older boys watches, and small building

sets, toy cars and musical instruments to the

younger ones. With big, bright smiles they all

come up and shake our hands and thank us as

we walk to the van.

A new boy comes into the crowd and shyly says

something to Pushpalingam, one of the Admin-

istrators, who waves his hand in front of the

boy‟s face dismissively. I ask what the matter

is, and Pushpalingam tells Raju in Tamil that it

is nothing and we should hurry to get the night

ferry as it is late and the ferry service at night

is unreliable.

But I know the look on the boys face. I call

him over and call Raju to translate. The boy

looks down and mumbles that he came late

and missed out on getting a gift, he says there

are 5 other boys who are not there either. I

check the bags in the van. There are no more

watches, and he‟s too old play with small cars.

We have a busy day tomorrow and I promise

him that within the next few days I will get him

and the others watches.

We spend the next day giving out toys and

school supplies to Sivayogam and Hari Boys

home, after which Terri and Jade head home

and I spend the next few days between check-

ing on the construction, buying kitchen items,

bedding, more school supplies, and meetings

with the contractor.

The streets are crowded with shoppers prepar-

ing for Ramadan and I am reminded of my

childhood. Each year at Ramadan, a neighbour

would send over a sumptuous meal of fried

rice, curries and desert. I

remember digging into the

meal with a fever; it is one

of my favourite memories.

I glance at the food items

for the orphanages; rice,

lentils, sprats (tiny dried

fish) and can`t help but

think these kids have

probably not had a really

good meal in a long time.

There is no spare cash in

the orphanages for such

luxuries.

The Buddha on the dashboard

Three on a bike

The road to Kokadichcholai

Ice cream smiles

Page 5 of 12

I check with the Taj restaurant on the cost of a

meal for all of the orphanages. It will cost

about $150 per orphanage including a soft

drink and ice cream and I check my account

online; I‟m way over my personal budget and

tell myself I should show some restraint.

Maybe next time.

Oh heck! It‟s only money. I tell the driver to

stop at the bank and slide in my well worn

bank card into the ATM before calling the or-

phanage at Kathiroli to tell them that I will

bring over a meal for everyone tonight. Raju

and I arrive late after having to find ice to keep

the ice cream from melting as the kids meekly

file in one by one and sit on the floor while

other kids carefully ladle out a serving of fried

rice, chicken and vegetables. There are not

enough spoons to serve with and there is no

bottle opener, and the staff member who was

supposed to arrange these details sheepishly

looks away as Raju admonishes him. But it is

the way the orphanage is run, with disorder

and apathy.

I find myself chocking back the tears as I

watch them dig into the meal and guzzle their

soft drinks. Their smiles only get brighter with

the ice cream.

The contractor joins us and we discuss the

showers. They are too badly deteriorated to

fix, and Pushpalingam has asked if we can build

a shower room. The contractor tells me it will

cost about $2,100.00 He has the plans ready

and I tell him to go ahead. By now I have de-

clined all four requests for toilets: two of them

Arunachalam

Food for Hari Boys home

Hari Boys home

The boys at Kathiroli

Page 6 of 12

I felt were able to afford their own, based on

the houses they had, and the other two could

not provide me with titles, proving ownership.

It‟s late at night as we head back across the

ferry, there are no lights at either side, and the

only guide is the flashlight from the deck and

the lights of the van. I‟m exhausted and emo-

tionally spent as I lean against the rails dis-

creetly wiping the tears from my eyes.

It‟s early the next day when I stop by Hari

Boys home. The place is well run and well

managed. It‟s clean and there are extra class-

rooms, and teachers to help with homework.

The man who runs it, Mr. Chandrakumar is

congenial and caring about the boys. I notice

much of the furnishings are donations from the

Kandy Rotary Club. But there‟s more to do:

the roof is all exposed asbestos sheets and

must be replaced, the interior walls of the sec-

ond floor need to be finished as do the main

floor recreation room. We discuss some of the

items he has requested, shoes, clothes, kitchen

items and food. I have enough money to fill

most of the list, and we agree on my providing

dinner for the boys tonight.

The day gets blistering hot as I head out with

Raju to source and price the Hari boys list, and

washing tubs, beds and mattresses for the Or-

phanages in Kokadichcholai. The roads in Kat-

tankudy are all under construction with

stretches of potholes and broken roads sepa-

rated by stretches of half finished, raised sec-

tion covered with an oily surface and lower bro-

ken sections. Motorists have taken this as a

cue to turn either side of the road into which-

ever direction they are heading, and the traffic

Praying before the meal at Kathiroli

Sharing the road

Bedding for Sivayogam

A girl from Shakthi smiles for the camera

Page 7 of 12

is sheer chaos! Buses, trucks and motorcycles

head in all directions around us and we enter

the fray without slowing.

We head through Batticaloa to the Butterfly

Garden Home. It is a

therapeutic place for chil-

dren to come and work

out the traumatic experi-

ence‟s they have lived

through, like losing both

parents to the Tsunami or

war, or being taken by

the rebels and being

forced to be trained to

kill.

The manager tells me a

bit about the home, and I

ask them if there is any-

thing they need. They

ask for cloth for uniforms for the kids and will

prepare a list and leave it for me.

Dinner at Hari Boys home is a different affair.

The boys are organized, there is room and

utensils for everyone, along with bottle open-

ers. One boys starts chanting a prayer and the

others follow, and soon we are dining. I realize

these kids will have a better chance at an edu-

cation, and at finding jobs, because of the care

and attention Mr.

Chandrakumar puts

into the home. Some-

where between the

Fried Rice and dessert I

realise the kids in the

three orphanages in

Kokadichcholai will not

have the same

chances, and their long

term prospects are

bleak. They don‟t have

Mr. Chandrakumar to

look out for them, and

unless I do something

about it, nothing will

happen.

I start the following morning by noticing the

fresh flowers on the little Buddhist statue that

Mattresses for Shakthi Girls play in a Colombo slum

The walls for the kitchen at Kathiroli

Four on a bike

The showers at Kathiroli

Page 8 of 12

sits on the dashboard. It must be weighted

because it does not fall, even on the sharpest

turns. I look at Karu and smile, pointing to the

flowers. „It can‟t

hurt and it may help‟

he mumbles in bro-

ken English. When

we stop to pick up

Raju; Meena, Raju‟s

wife, puts in more

fresh flowers on the

statue and says a

small prayer to the

Buddhist statue for

our safe return,

even though she‟s a

Hindu. It is a cus-

tom here to make offerings at each others tem-

ples, especially when travelling.

We spend the days checking on items ordered,

buying more items, checking prices and going

to each of the construction sites. The walls

have started on Kathi-

roli and the foundation

has been dug for the

shower room. When I

go into the boy‟s room

to double check the

beds and mattresses

one of the boys come

rushing up to me with

a bag of candies. He

smiles and bows

slightly and offers me

one and I say no

thanks, and he perks

up and points to the bag and says “Birthday!

Me birthday!” Turns out it was his birthday and

this was his only gift, a bag of candy, and he

wants to share it with me. I wipe my eyes,

force a smile and take one of the candies.

We spend the afternoon heat on the ferry and

A woodcutter loads his bike The walls for the kitchen at Kathiroli

Two women take home the groceries Sleeping area at Kathiroli

A Hindu Temple

Page 9 of 12

make it to the Taj to pick up the food. Today is

Shakthi‟s day. The kids are quiet during din-

ner but I see an occasional smile.

After dinner there are a few performances by

some of the girls and a

small speech from Mr.

Kamaladash - he‟s one

of the Administrators.

He then asks me to say

a few words. I tell the

kids that there are

many people back home

who want to help them,

and who care about

them and who want to

help make their lives

better. After a few brief

sentences and a few

emotional moments I

thank them and sit down.

I spend most of the next day in the van. One

of the Rotary Clubs has asked me to look at

one of their projects about 200 km away. The

trip takes about 6 hours on good roads and we

arrive shortly after lunch. The Rotarians take

me to a Muslim school with about 480 kids.

They have three toilets, none of which function

properly, and the drinking

water for the kids is from

a well, and is not purified.

The Government refuses

to spend any money on

the school so the local Ro-

tary Club has taken up

the cause. They need

about $12,000 to build

toilets and I assure them

that I will put a proposal

together and present it to

the ISC of the Rotary Club

when I return. The drive

back takes much longer

and I miss dinner that night at Sivayogam Girls

home, but Raju has arranged it and is there on

my behalf.

A family shares a meal on the streets of Colombo School supplies and toys for Shakthi

Girls at Katherivali Girls home A roadside Temple

Three girls help their mothers sell cashews

Page 10 of 12

I spend the late evening going over the ac-

counts and realize I am officially over budget.

In the first days we drove to Katherivali to the

Girls and Boys home, to find a lot had changed

since my last visit in 2005. The Boy‟s home

had been closed and the kids sent off to live

with extended fami-

lies or spread around

to other homes, but

the Girls home had

found a donor to

build them a large

new building to house

them. They had

asked for a sewing

machine and cloth for

dresses, but I am out

of money. Maybe

when I get back I can

scrape a few dollars

together and have

Raju take it to them.

We spend the day buying and delivering items

to Hari boys home, and picking up a few more

gifts and dealing with more delays. Later I

meet with the contractor and go over the con-

tracts, and sign them and give him a deposit,

but this takes about two hours longer than it

should before I head out to the ferry. All the

kids are at Kathiroli; they have come from the

other homes and are all dressed up and form a

line and start singing as I arrive. One of them

places two garlands of

flowers on me and I

squint really hard to

stop any tears when

one of the girls shouts

“smile Uncle Errol!”

We all laugh and go in

to the main room.

One by one they all

perform different

dances and songs. Mr.

Kamaladash, points to

a girl as she dances

and tells me she was at

Sivayogam when word

came down from the

Government that Sivayogam was going to be

closed. Her mother had left her in the home

and went to the Middle East to work. On hear-

ing news of the closing, the girl panicked and

poisoned herself. It was only through luck, he

The Kitchen at Shakthi is prepared for a new floor School supplies and toys at Kathiroli

New flashlights, toys and supplies at Kathiroli A woman keeps the afternoon sun off her

Karu stands by his van filled with supplies

Page 11 of 12

says, that they got her to the hospital on time.

As two other girls dance and sing, he tells me

they sing about losing their mothers love, and

how they remember her before she

died. It‟s an emotional night and I bite

my lip a lot. I have a short speech and

then I ask the birthday kid who shared

his candy with me to come up. I have a

new shirt and pants for him, and I tell

them all that I will make sure every one

of them will have a new dress or new

clothes for their birthdays. I am also

finally able to give gifts and toys to all

the kids who missed out.

We get to the ferry late because we are

stopped by an Army patrol who wants to

know what we are doing out at this

time, and my Canadian passport does

not get us off as usual. The driver gives

the sergeant a long explanation of what

we have been doing so far and I keep

hoping the sergeant does not ask me to show

A woman wears a red armband to signal that she is

practicing Gowry Carpu, where she prays and fasts for

one week each year, for her Husband’s wellbeing.

him an NGO visa. A few minutes later we are

off only to meet another patrol at the docks.

They too want to know why we are out so late

and how we plan to get a ferry after hours.

Pushpalingam tells them he‟s friends with the

ferry drivers which seems to satisfy them. A

few phone calls later I hear the familiar roar of

the 25 hp. motor and we are quickly off.

Last day. I drop off the cloth we bought from

Butterfly Garden before heading out to see

Arunachalam with food, clothing and a few

gifts. He‟s an eight year old who is blind in one

eye. In 2008 I paid for an operation to remove

the cataracts in his other eye. When I checked

on him last week, his vision was not good, but

his father refused to allow me to take him to a

Doctor.

The foundation for the shower room at Kathiroli

Fresh concrete floors for the kitchen at Shakthi

School supplies and toys for Sivayogam

Page 12 of 12

His parents are thankful for the food and

clothes and I ask the father again about a Doc-

tor. He says no, he does not want Arunacha-

lam going, he is worried about Arunachalam

losing all his sight with any further operations.

After I assure him the Doctor‟s visit will be non

-invasive, with no procedures or surgery, he

finally agrees.

The mattresses, bedding and pillows finally ar-

rive at Kathiroli, Shakthi and Sivayogam, but

the mattresses are too big! Fortunately a box

cutter fixes that quickly. The kids are excited

and jump around and lay down on their new

found comfort. For some of the kids, it‟s the

first time they have ever slept on a mattress.

Through your generosity and support we‟re

building a new kitchen, a new shower room and

renovating an existing kitchen. We bought

hundreds of school books, pens, maps, art sup-

plies, pencils, paper, white boards, school uni-

forms, clothes and food. We bought 8 bunk

beds, and 67 mattresses, pillows, pillowcase,

and bedding. In addition we gave out over 200

toys and gifts. A sincere and heartfelt thank

you for the opportunity you have given me to

be able to do this.

Errol Paulicpulle.

The boys at Kathiroli try out their new mattresses. For some of them this is the first time in their lives they have slept on a mattress.