life in jaffna

Living in Jaffna takes a little getting used to and everyday communications with the outside world is one of those 'getting used to' points.
There are the mobile phones that only work on few, random occasions, even when they claim to have a full signal. It is not about where you are, the way you are facing, whether you happen to be next to a mast, it is just random. Then there is the internet connection. There is no broadband so it is all on dial up. Sometimes it runs 'not too bad', other days you can have a whole day where even an email will not leave the environs of your computer. So, it gets pretty frustrating when you want to connect to the outside world. But in the overall scheme of things these are really only frustrations.

The rains have finally come and we get a torrential downpour at least once every day now, often at night. This leaves the air clear and crisp for a short while, but when the clouds clear and the sun comes back out the air becomes pretty hot and humid. In fact, there is this rather uncomfortable feeling all day of your skin being not quite dry and just, oh so slightly clammy. As if you ran for the bus and now you have a light layer of sweat all over - but it will not clear. All day long your clothes are just wet enough to stick to you. The thought of a cool shower when you get home looms larger and larger in your mind and by the time you leave work is almost an obsession. Showers here are pretty much like I have experienced in other parts of Sri Lanka. They are a big tank on the roof and this feeds straight through a tap to a big shower head that gives a lovely wide and full spray. There is no heating for the water, just the sunshine, so in the evening you get a warm shower and in the morning a cold shower. Either way it is very welcome.


Jaffna is a very unusual place. It is very hot, lots of palms trees and it is a golden sand peninsular. Every direction is coastline and lagoons and yet – there is nowhere you can go in the water. The coastline is all a High Security Zone, you literally cannot go to the beach or enter the water. There is only one beach accessible and that is right up at the North of the islands and you need special permission from the Army to go there, so forget going for a swim!!

Yesterday, I took the day off and went on a tour of Jaffna Town. I drove down to the town centre and then went for a walk about. The first thing you notice is the quiet. Most people are on foot, usually bare footed or with flip flops, on bicycles (every one has the same 1950's upright bike) and the odd small motorbike laden down with a family. Unbrellas are very popular for keeping off the rain and sun and it is very normal to see people cycling along holding an umbrella above themselves.

There are very few cars, so the traffic is very light and almost silent. The only cars I have seen (other than our Land Rovers and NGO vehicles) are old 1950's Austins and Morris'. I have seen an Austin Cambridge, Morris Oxford and an Austin A40. So, Jaffna town is quiet from traffic.

All around though, is the devastation from the wars of 1990 and 1995 is very bad. It is amazing how much damage has been done to the centre of Jaffna and how little has been repaired. Everywhere there are damaged and blown up houses, the walls littered with bullet holes and other walls & roofs missing.

Right in the heart of Jaffna is the Clock Tower. This, I read in the guide book, was renovated with money presented from the British people in 1998 and opened by HRH Prince Charles – for the people of Jaffna. However, the Army and Police have declared this an HSZ and all approaches are blocked off with Earth Bunds (banks), razor wire and guard posts.

But this is the clock tower that was renovated by the British people – with MY money. So I walk up to the barrier, through the gap and continue to walk, smiling, towards the guard post. The soldiers are somewhat mystified and rather surprised by this. I get to the window and explain I would like to go and visit the clock tower. The soldiers are a little surprised and rather bemused by this, but bureaucracy wins through. I offer them my ID, they write it in their book, give me a receipt for my camera and then they let me through. This whole area is weird with many plain clothes men and women wandering around, all armed with machine guns. As well as the soldiers and police.

I get half way to the clock tower and am called into a building labelled 'Immigration Centre', where again, I am asked what I am doing and again I tell them I wish to look at the Clock Tower opened by Prince Charles and again they are bemused, but friendly and ultimately helpful. Finally I am there and sure enough there is a plaque commemorating Prince Charles's re-opening of the Tower . Unfortunately, they have my camera, so there will be no photo, I am afraid. I make my way back, get my camera and leave.

As the sun goes down and the air cools a little, we are off to the ICRC house where, I am told, they have a badminton court.

The court is outdoor, a square of dirt with a net and ropes stretched across the ground for court markings.

We are surrounded by trees and to either side is a struggling 100w light bulb to act as floodlights. Near the equator darkness falls quickly and the gloom soon engulfs the court, but not our spirits. It is great to be able to play a game and we all put in some effort – between gulping bottles of water. The trees that surround us fill up with crows cawing loudly. Above them large bats are swooping and congregating, preparing to head off into the night. The scene is quite spectacular to both sight and sound and amongst all this the shuttlecock continues to fly back and forth in the semi-darkness.

We play for an hour or so, and then off home. It is only 7pm, but I am tired and ready for bed.