One in a thousand

I am a keen photographer with some formal training and what I believe is a fairly good compositional eye, but I, like most of the world have fallen into the trap set by manufacturers of digital cameras. Once upon a time when cameras held real film you had to be careful about composing each and every shot. Developing and printing films was a costly business so you were naturally cautious. Quality before quantity!

Along came digital media and now you didn’t have to do anything apart from downloading your photos to your computer. Photoshop and similar software enabled you to manipulate images in your virtual darkroom, but more often than not you ended up with the digital equivalent of a shoebox of prints in the back of a drawer somewhere. Quantity over quality!

Now, because each image isn’t wasting film I have developed (excuse the pun) the habit of taking LOTS of images. In the days of film I could have a 36 exposure film in my camera for months, whereas now will happily snap away a hundred images in a day. I have found that if I take 1000 photos, 100 or so will be average, then maybe 20 or so will be ‘keepers’ (not that I ever actually throw any away – I just get more storage capacity) and 5 or 10 of the 1000 will be pretty darned good and worth printing and maybe framing.

Then every so often, but quite rarely, I am lucky enough to take an image that is in my eyes spectacular.. this is the 1 in 1000 shot that requires no manipulation or even cropping, the colours are realistic, the exposure is spot on, the composition follows the rule of thirds, and the image 'says something.'

Such was my very good fortune when just a few days ago I ‘snapped’ this image from the terrace bar of a hotel in Galle where my wife and I were spending a relaxing break away from the ‘busyness’ of Colombo.

Divine Intervention

10 days or more ago I lost the wee stylus that slides into the base of my phone.

No big deal - except that I spent an entire day roaming around the city into every mobile phone shop I could find - and there are literally hundreds of them looking for a replacement.

Now every shop had a box full of maybe a hundred or so different types for every phone imaginable - except mine 'cos its relatively new. (Why is it necessary for every stylus for every model and every type of phone to be different?)

Eventually though I managed to find a 'cheap rip off’ copy of the real thing - and that still cost me $10!!

Stay with me here OK....

Walking home from work today past the Buddhist centre (I have only been past this way once before since I've been here) I just happened to glance down to see a phone stylus in the middle of the footpath.

What are the chances........ considering too that every morning here the footpaths are swept to within a micrometre of the thickness of the seal by a fleet of broom wielding little old ladies and men.

This is a footpath on a street that has a traffic jam twice a day as children go to and from the international school next to the Buddhist centre so its not just a sleepy wee side street.

OK... so believe it or not the stylus is a genuine Nokia Xpress Music 5800 stylus (remember every model is different), and it is even the same colour as my original one.

Now explain to me what the chances of that happening are eh??

I reckon its about the same as leaving a full bottle of beer on the footpath in central Dunedin and it still being there after a weekend!!

So now I have two.

Believe it or not - it happened here!!!!!

Pimp my tuk tuk!

Thousands of these funny looking three wheeled chariots prey on hapless tourists in every suburb of Colombo like bugs around a lamp.

Powered by a 150cc petrol engine usually mechanically unmodified and perhaps the size of a lawnmower or chainsaw they are often decorated with various bits of chrome and ‘go fast’ stickers.

Not this pale green beauty!

As it pulled up to the red light which for a change drivers were mostly complying with you heard it first. “Tuck… tuck…tuck…tuck…tuck” it idled with a superior sort of attitude. Pulling alongside you could tell the owner was an enthusiast. The starting handle, normally a 2 foot long lever resting on the floor alongside the driver had been modified to include a raised grab handle – the driver no longer needed to reach down to floor level to start the beast, obviously designed for a racing start.

Plastic Barbie clung onto the 6 foot broadcast whip aerial, and mirror foil stuck to the rear window of the black vinyl ‘pram hood’. White vinyl Toyota mudguards had been modified to fit the miniscule rear wheel arches covering the tiny 10” wheels, and matched handpainted white racing stripes.

This machine’s unusual pastel colour (tuk tuks usually come in just the basic primary colours and cream) set it apart from its many relations, but as it dragged its impressive 150cc away from the lights at a breakneck crawl it was the sound it made that really inspired my comments.

To someone who has had to endure many nights of duty on the streets listening to New Zealand’s lost youth patrolling round and round the central city bocks sniffing petrol fumes and attempting to impress goodness knows who with their baked bean tin exhausts, and leaky butterfly exhaust valves, this sound just made me roar with laughter:

“Tik… Tuk…TUK..TUK.TUK.TUK.TUK……..WHheeeeeeze…” (as second of three gears is selected) “Tik… Tuk…TUK..TUK.TUK.TUK.TUK……..WHeeeeeeze…..” (third and final gear) “Tik… Tuk…TUK..TUK.TUK.TUK.TUK”…… off into the distance it ‘tukked’ enveloped in a light blue haze that emitted from the modified chrome exhaust extension that had the diameter of a large ballpoint pen!!

This Kiwi's ANZAC Day in Colombo

New Zealand has no consular representation in Sri Lanka so by default I have been adopted by the Australian High Commission which also just happens to be across the road from the IFRC Movement Coordination office I work in. Soon after my arrival, in good ANZAC spirit, the Australians extended the hand of friendship and offered ‘sanctuary’ should I have the need to jump over their fence ‘in extremis’. In return I helped them drink some of their very good red wine on Australia Day earlier in the year.

A couple of weeks ago I was hand delivered an official invitation from the Australian High Commission requesting that I represent NZ at an ANZAC Day commemorative ceremony to be held at the War Graves section of the local Kanatte General Cemetry. This was to be followed by a ‘gunfire breakfast’ at the High Commissioner’s residence. Even though I am probably the most easily accessible of the very few Kiwis in Sri Lanka, it was still an honour to asked. I was very keen to experience how Australians ‘do’ ANZAC, and I was eager to learn what a ‘gunfire breakfast’ was all about, though I suspected it had more to do with rum than guns!

At 0500hrs it is still dark in Colombo, and a pleasant temperature of around 25 degrees. Thankfully the monsoon hasn’t quite started here in earnest yet so although very humid it wasn’t raining. The mosquitoes enjoyed the arrival of a hundred or so ‘human breakfasts’ and quickly made feasts of us. Among the official guests were the American Ambassador, the Honorary Consul-General of the Republic of Turkey, a Sri Lankan Admiral, and various other high ranking Sri Lankan military officers. Staff from the High Commission and other embassies as well as a sprinkling of ex-pats, some wearing medals made up the rest of the small crowd. The pathway through the cemetery to the hedged and newly mowed war graves section had been lit with small potted candles and these continued through the graves to an open area under the trees where the ceremony was to take place.

A peaceful and reverent scene unfolded as the sky started to lighten and the service got under way at the appointed 0530hrs. HE Kathy Klugman welcomed everyone and gave a short explanation of the history of ANZAC Day, then Father Ivan Perera, Archdiocese of Colombo led a prayer followed by a contemporary version of the Lords Prayer and then Kemal Ataturk’s speech to the mothers of ANZACs was read by Mrs Bharathi Wijeratne, the Honorary Consul-General of the Republic of Turkey.

The program showed the New Zealand representative (me) laying a wreath after the Australian High Commissioner, then the Honorary Consul-General, and finally the American Ambassador. Unfortunately the American Ambassador (or one of her minions) had neglected to bring a wreath – so an unfortunate Sri Lankan driver was dispatched to find one at 0500hrs on a Sunday in Colombo! To his credit he was triumphant, albeit arriving at the end of the ceremony. We shared the three available wreaths among the four of us and laid them in front of the graves of an Australian and a Kiwi grave that were chosen because they were side by side. In fact the Australian grave was between two Kiwi graves – all three being airmen who died on the same day – February 13th 1943, we are told they were on a transport plane that crashed near Colombo. Later in the day I would find out how poignant that was given the tragic event in New Zealand this ANZAC Day morning. After the wreaths had been laid, Australian Federal Police Detective Superintendent Shane Austin resplendent in full formal dress uniform recited The Ode then ending the ceremony the Last Post and Reveille were played by a pair of equally magnificently dressed Sri Lankan Army Buglers. I would have to say that I have never heard such a well played rendition, especially considering how difficult the timing issues must be when playing two bugles in unison – it was faultless and certainly had the regulation ability to raise the hairs on the back of your neck.

Everyone was invited back to the High Commissioner’s residence where a full buffet breakfast had been laid on including all the usual suspects: Bacon, sausages, eggs, hash browns, baked beans, toast etc. Again the setting was outside on the lawn under the trees. A bottle of Bundaberg rum – being one of two things, red wine being the other, which I concede Australia does better than New Zealand – sat on a table with the coffee ready to be raised in a glass to honour those who gave their lives in the service of their countries. As the sun climbed above the horizon the temperature rose towards the usual daily 34 degrees making formal dress a little too uncomfortable, so by 0730hrs the gathering came to its natural conclusion and everyone quietly wandered off home.

Reviving the lost art

Yes, indeed it has been some time since my last post and a lot of water has passed under the bridge since January.

A great deal of my time is spent in front of a computer screen, so I have been a little reluctant to spend any longer than I need to doing the same at home..... just too much else to see and do.

I won't bore you with every little thing that has happened, suffice to say though that everything has progressed pretty much according to plan.  I am still in Colombo, "Zarges" and I were eventually (after 6 weeks) reunited, I am enjoying a thoroughly interesting job, and  I haven't heard a swear word since I arrived (unless you count the expletive I uttered the evening my Tuk tuk was nearly 'T boned' by one of the many psychopath drivers here coming through one of the few red lights in the country.) My driver avoided our deaths by the thickness of a coat of paint and was rewarded with a handsome tip when I arrived at my apartment.

A Colombo sunset - something they do very well and frequently here!