Mr. Cliff and Friends go to Sri Lanka, Part 3: Elephants and The Tooth

I hereby declare this to be a womit-free post! Please continue reading taking solace in that fact. After a short hiatus from talking about my Sri Lanka vacation, I’ll wrap it up in this post.

It’s strange how quickly my sickness came and left. Besides being utterly exhausted, after my dip in the pool, a little bit of fruit, and a 30 minute nap, I felt great. Or maybe I just thought I felt great because anything was better than what I had just gone through. We had a 7 hour drive ahead of us still to get to our destination for the night, but aside from the 40 near-head on crashes we had, the drive was quite relaxing. Still playing the sick card, I got to sit in the reclined front seat with air conditioning vents trained directly on my face. It was nearly impossible to sleep with all of the braking and speeding up and swerving, ect., but the beautiful scenery of Sri Lanka was more than enough to hold my attention. Also, we got to have a nature stop on the way. Andrea said she needed to use the restroom the next time we passed a public toilet. Hermal just kind of grimaced and said that we were hours from a toilet that would be acceptable for us to use. I believed him, as public toilets over here shouldn’t even exist. You can’t just stop by a gas station to relieve yourself and grab some beef jerky and some Mountain Dew. I guess that’s probably why you see so many people just peeing (and going #2 on one occasion) on the side of the road. Being dudes, it wasn’t a big deal for Alan and I, but I was impressed with Andrea’s willingness for a nature squat. I guess growing up on a farm in Ohio helped prepare her for such situations! Or maybe she just really had to go.

Natives working the rice paddies.

We reached our destination of Kandy around 8:00, and climbed up to the top of the hill where our hotel sat. Since we were at the very top of the hill/mountain, there wasn’t really anywhere else to eat, so we settled for the overpriced dinner buffet at the hotel restaurant. The ambiance was nice, but the only food that sounded good to me was ice cream and some fruit. I needed to stay 20ft minimum away from the curries and rice. So after three helpings of ice cream, I went to bed exhausted and ready to start a new day.



The view from our hotel on the top of the hill.

The next morning we got checked out of our hotel and were off to the Temple of the Tooth Relic. Alan has a doctorate in religious studies, so he can explain it better than I ever could. Here is the link to his blog explaining it in detail. The Cliff’s Notes Version (see what I did there?) is that it is a temple built to house one of Buddha’s teeth. It’s crazy to think about it actually being one of his teeth. (Even though I have my doubts that it actually is….but I’ll save my skepticism for another time). But can you imagine if we as Christians had one of Jesus Christ’s teeth? That would be a big deal. I mean we go crazy over the shroud of Turin, and even the possibility of the Holy Grail. Just think if we had one of his teeth! I mean there have been wars fought over this thing, and thousands of people have died to protect/steal it. It is possibly one of the holiest places for people of the Buddhist religion to go. So it was a surreal experience to be there and witness it.

Now we didn’t actually get to see the tooth, as they only bring it out once a year for cleaning and to parade around on an elephant. Side Note: Do you think they use Crest or Colgate when brushing it? (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) But the whole temple complex was amazing. It had several different parts and halls, and even included a library of ancient Buddhists texts. It was another very cool religious and cultural experience that I’m glad I got to experience. Of course, there were the typical annoyances like paying a foreigners entrance fee and another “voluntary tip” for them to keep our shoes safe (while all of the non foreigners just piled theirs along a wall) but it was a small price to pay for such a cool experience.



Temple of the Tooth Relic complex.



A moat is very effective when trying to keep captors from stealing your tooth.



Entrance to the tooth shrine.



Our agenda called for several things throughout the day, including a gem museum, royal botanical gardens, and spice gardens. We went to the gem museum tour which consisted of a 10 minute informational video followed by a 5 minute walkthrough and explanation of different Sri Lanka gems, followed by a hard sales pitch to get you to buy this place’s jewelry. It was all very beautiful stuff, but pretty pricey. Plus I always get annoyed with rackets like this. I’m sure the “gem museum” gives a cut of the profits to the travel company that takes you there. Aaaaaaand of course I got suckered into buying some earrings for the lady friend. Oh well. They were pretty, and maybe will earn me some boyfriend points that I need to catch up on for leaving for 7 months.



Incredible fruit stand we stopped at on the side of the road. They had a lot of cool exotic fruits you don't see anywhere else.



After that we decided to skip the botanical gardens and the spice garden to spend more time at the highlight of the day, and maybe the trip, which was the Pinawala Elephant Orphanage. On the way we stopped at a place where you could actually bathe and ride elephants! Of course, it was pretty much another scam, as your tour guide gave you a 5 minute tour of the “elephant museum” which necessitated a tip at the end, even though we had already paid $20 to get into the damn place. In the interest of time and saving our clothes we decided to skip the bathing but we all decided to take an elephant ride, which was fun. Each elephant has its own trainer, or Mahout, that is the only person the elephant will listen to and take commands from. Basically the elephants and mahouts spend all day every day with each other, sometimes until one of them dies. So they walk alongside giving the elephant orders. We paid for a 15 minute ride, and got about half of that. But I guess the other 7 or 8 minutes would have been about the same. Afterwards we were told to tip the mahout if we had a good time. Then we were told that our tip was not enough. So, during our 30 minute stay at this place, we paid an entry fee to ride the elephant and tipped two separate people. It was pretty annoying, but I guess we did get to ride elephants and have some good pictures from it.



Unfortunately they have to attach a chain from his leg to her neck so it doesn't take off on a rampage.



Another 15 minute ride we arrived at the village where the elephant orphanage is. We got there towards the end of the day. The elephants were about ready to return from the river where they were bathing and frolicking, back to the actual orphanage grounds. It was so cool to see 70 elephants walking through the streets of this village! It was like the running of the bulls in Pamplona, but with larger animals that no one wanted to test and get gored by. We followed the elephants back to the grounds where you could get very close to them and watch them eat and interact. Such a fun experience!



Mahouts preparing for the running of the pachyderms.



And they're off!



The orphanage houses around 70 elephants. Many of the elephants there had been injured in the wild, either by hunters who had shot them to harvest their tusks and left them for dead  or were just plain old.  There was even one who had stepped on a land mine, which was a remnant of the 26 year long Sri Lankan civil war that finally ended in 2009. Most of the elephants there are that were either born there, or born in captivity somewhere else. We were told that the success rate of releasing elephants back into the wild that were born in captivity somewhere else is extremely low, so it is rarely attempted.



It's amazing to watch these guys eat. They literally just rip bark off of trees and eat it.



It was amazing to be this up close and personal with these awesome beasts, and watch them interact with each other. Definitely another experience I’ll never forget.

After the orphanage closed, it was back to the van to drive three hours back to Negombo, the same town we stayed in the first night. That night we ate in a beachfront restaurant and had a couple of drinks. The place was really cool, and was right on the beach. Amazingly we were the only people there. We had a couple of drinks, and since my throat was still recovering and couldn’t handle carbonated beverages, I resorted to drinking the fruity chick drinks on the menu. I think our waiter thought I was joking as I ordered the cocktail of day, which was named Paradise or something like that. He was embarrassed when he realized that I indeed wanted a nice refreshing fruity drink, and after that helped me pick out some other delicious tropical flavored/colored drinks that didn't bring my manhood into question at all.

Decent place to chill at our hotel!

The final day was spent relaxing on the beach. It really was amazing how dead it was. The beaches were amazing, and this is coming from a guy who lived in Hawaii for a year. They were nice and big, with awesome sand and great water. . I don’t really know why there weren’t more people there…I can only guess it’s because Sri Lanka isn’t a place where people think to go.  Even though the weather was beautiful, we were there in the dead period of the tourist season.



Cool outrigger boat on the beach.



I’m not sure where to advise you to put Sri Lanka on your travel bucket list, but I know of the places I’ve been it is at or near the top. For such a small country island, it has so much to offer. If you want history and religious landmarks, it has plenty, and some good ones at that. If you want nature, it has a one of a kind rainforest, and you can also go on safaris to see elephants in the wild, as well as leopards in the right places. You can go on whale watching cruises on the southern coast. If you just want to lay on the beach and not be bothered by huge crowds, this is a perfect place. I know if I ever have the chance, I would jump at the chance to go back to experience more of the island.

Well, this wraps up my Sri Lanka vacation, and might be the last post about travels over here. I might be going to a couple of smaller places, but as far as foreign countries go, this is it! I’ve had some amazing opportunities to travel here, something I’m very thankful for. Thinking back on my first couple of posts where India was the first foreign country I had stepped foot in, it’s amazing how much I’ve been able to do in such a short period of time. I have definitely learned a lot from my travels, and all it’s done is make me thirsty for more adventures! It has also made me appreciate the good old United States of America and how lucky we are to be Americans. There are still many more places I need to travel in my own country!

In about a month I’ll be ending my adventure here and moving back home to America. While this has been an awesome and unforgettable adventure, I absolutely can’t wait to be back amongst family, friends, beef, and the thousands of other things I miss about home. I guess that will also mark the end of this blog, so if there’s anything you want to hear about, speak not or forever hold your peace!

Permanent Souvenir

It hit me last month that I graduated high school 10 years ago. That’s crazy to think about. I won’t make it back for my 10 year high school reunion, but discussing it with my former classmates has made me really think about how much my life has changed since I walked across the stage in the Little River High School gymnasium holding a diploma.

If you would have told me at that time that I’d be living in India in 10 years, there’s no way I would have believed you. In fact, if you would have told me I would be living anywhere but Kansas, I probably wouldn’t have believed you. It’s funny how life happens when you’re too busy to pay attention.  

At the time, I admit I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I knew I was going to go to K-State and major in mechanical engineering. Why mechanical engineering? Because I loved the show Battle Bots, and when I asked my brother what the guys majored in who built robots and fought them on TV, he said probably mechanical engineering. After a year of learning how to size air conditioning ducts, I decided that mechanical engineering wasn’t for me. So what was next? I had no clue. Teaching and coaching sounded pretty appealing. I also had dreams of being in the FBI. So while contemplating this important life decision at 3 AM with a few Busch Lights in the system, my good friend Byron Noll told me all about a major he was changing to called Construction Science and Management, which I had never heard of before. Hey, sounded pretty good to me though. A few days later, that was my new major.

It only took me 5 years to graduate too! Side note: I would strongly recommend taking a victory lap in college. You’re going to be paying off student loans for the next 20 years anyway, might as well throw one more year on there. I had entirely too much fun in college to graduate “on time”. Two of my favorite quotes of all time are on this subject. The first being from my Uncle Jim; “Graduating in 4 years is like leaving a party at 11 o'clock.” The second being from someone almost as esteemed, Mr. Albert Einstein, who said “Never let schooling get in the way of your education.”

Anyways, my point is that life never takes you where you think it will. You probably won’t grow up to be what you thought you were going to be, even in High School. And as much as you love your high school girlfriend, it probably won’t work out. It’s ok. (I actually didn’t intend for this to be an advice column for high schoolers. I wish my stupid brain could stay on track sometimes). Hell, I went to senior prom with a blow-up doll. (That is actually true. And even though I paid for two dinners, they only let me eat one. I was upset about that. Apparently I still am. Oh, and I also feel the need to tell you that it wasn't my doll, and I'm pretty sure it was unused.)

Getting back to my original point, I’m not where I thought I would be 10 years ago, and I am so happy about that. I never thought that after college I would move from Kansas to Minnesota to New Jersey to Hawaii back to Minnesota then to India. FREAKING INDIA. If you would have told me then…hell…if you would have told me a year ago that I’d be living in India right now, I would have called you crazy. If you would have told me in high school that I would grow out my hair to my shoulders and throw it back in a pony tail every once in a while, I wouldn’t have believed you. If you would have told me I would have not one, but two tattoos, I would call you crazy. (And finally, 6 paragraphs later, I come to the subject of the post.) A lot of people are surprised that I have tattoos. I’m a pretty conservative guy, and don’t do off the wall type stuff very often.  But those who know me well enough know that I can be pretty random, and like to shake things up every once in a while.

I got my first tattoo during my second senior year in college. I already had a job locked down, and it was hard to concentrate on school, so I did just about anything and everything else instead to occupy my time and squeeze every last bit of fun out of my college years. My friend Andy and I had always talked about getting a tattoo together, so one day we actually decided to quit talking about it and do it. I had been thinking about it for a few years, so I already had a design in mind and knew just what I wanted. So we headed to Aggieville to Stray Cat Tattoo, made our appointments, and showed up a week later to have them done.

Don't let the massive bicep distract you.

It’s important to note that I feel if you are getting a tattoo, it needs to mean something. I’m not someone to get barbed wire around my bicep. Or a random Chinese symbol is supposed to mean “courage” but actually means “douchebag”, especially since I’ve never set foot in China. If I’m going to get something permanently tattooed onto my skin, I’ve got to have a deep personal connection with it, and I need to be completely confident that I won’t regret the subject matter or the body placement 10, 20, or 30 years down the road. Spontaneity and risk taking can be good things, but never with tattoos.

Fail. (Just so we're clear, this is not my arm.)

The internet is littered with pictures and stories of failed tattoo attempts. Just google "tattoo fail" and you'll get thousands of pictures. It's amazing how many misspellings there are in tattoos. Or people who thought it would be a good idea to get a face of a loved one tattooed on them by someone who wasn't really qualified to do so. Shawn Marion (NBA player) thought he was getting his nickname of "the matrix" in Chinese symbols. What he really got was something resembling "demon bird moth balls". Keep it simple people, and know what you're getting!

Awesome Tattoo Fail Article in the New York Times

So with my first tattoo, I was very confident that I wouldn’t regret it. It is three stalks of wheat with the family farm brand, the Broken Bar “O”, in the intersection of the plants. It’s all about having pride in where I came from, and all about remembering my roots. At that point I knew my life would probably take me a few different places, and maybe never back to Kansas long term, who knows? But I wanted a reminder of where I came from every time I looked in the mirror. Mission accomplished. I haven’t regretted that tattoo a single day since I’ve gotten it. It is a good souvenir to have from a major checkpoint in my life.

Which brings me to today and my second tattoo. Living in India has been a life altering event. I’ve seen and learned so much here, it’s almost unfathomable. I was thinking a while ago about what souvenirs I wanted to bring back with me to remember my time here. I don’t have a lot of luggage space to bring anything big back with me, so the idea popped in my head of marking this new landmark in my life with another tattoo. I had wanted to get another one for a while, but wasn’t sure I had a good enough reason or subject matter. So I determined this would be as good a time as any. The next decision was what to get. I wanted to get something that has a deep cultural meaning here, but also something that wouldn’t piss off my God, and something that wouldn’t piss off Indians if they saw it. Not the easiest thing to do. But after much deliberation, I decided to go with the “Aum” (or "om") symbol.

One of the coolest things about living in Southern Asia is learning about the different cultures, and especially how they tie into religion. Learning about other religions is fascinating to me, and I’ve been lucky enough to be immersed into three of the world’s most practiced religions (besides Christianity) in the places I’ve traveled: Hinduism in India, Buddhism in Nepal and Sri Lanka, and Islam in the UAE. The more you learn about other religions, the more it helps you understand your own. I truly believe that. Also, the more you learn about other religions, the more you learn how alike most of them are. It was interesting to me during my research that the concept of “Aum” has roots that transcend culture and religion. I’ll attempt to summarize a little bit.

At the core of “Aum”, it contains the “essence of the universe.” It is believed by many cultures that it was the sound made at the moment of creation. It contains all other sounds and all other words. If you make a natural sound with your mouth closed it would sound like humming. (Go ahead, try it) Now, while still making that same sound, open your mouth and then close it. Sounded like “aum” or “om”, right? Go ahead try to make a different sound. It’s always the same. So in that regard, that is how it contains all other words. When you open your mouth to say anything, it will always sound like “au” and when you close your mouth, it will sound like “m”. You can then relate it to being all-encompassing, the culmination of everything, or the alpha and omega (sound familiar?). Beyond that, it also represents the 4 divine states, metta (loving kindness), karuna (compassion), mudita (sympathetic joy), and upekkha (equanimity). Those are all good things that I can get on board with.

The actual symbol is written in Sanskrit, and each part of the symbol has a very significant meaning. The two curls on top of each other (that look like the number 3), with the downward curl that spirals out from the "3" shape, represent a different state of consciousness. The large, bottom curl stands for the normal state of being awake. The curl above it stands for deep sleep, while the curl emanating out from the center of the two represents the dream state. Those are the states of consciousness that every human on earth experiences. But the dot and the open curve above is what elevates the symbol to a much higher and more sacred meaning. The dot represents absolute consciousness; that's not the same as merely being awake, but it means being fully aware of yourself and everything around you. The open curve that cradles the dot represents an infinitely open mind, which is required to achieve that level of absolute consciousness.

Those of you who have ever meditated and made this sound, or done so during a yoga class, you now know what the sound means and what the concept is behind it. Hopefully you can have a little more appreciation for it now. You're welcome.

After the “what” was solved, the next step was “where and when”. I was a little concerned about finding a place in India that I would deem safe to get a tattoo, but a quick google search brought up a couple of places that looked like decent possibilities. So a couple of Saturdays ago, I hopped in my car and asked Shyam to drive me to one of them. After telling him where I was going, he informed me that he has a friend that does very good tattoos. And if I logged onto a website called the facebook, I could see his work. I didn’t tell him I was leery about getting a back alley tattoo in India from his friend, but told him I might check it out if this place didn’t work out.

I walked into the place, and it seemed clean enough. After a short wait, I was escorted into the actual room where the work happens to talk to the tattoo artist. I had viewed some of his work in photo albums in the waiting area, so I knew he could do pretty good work. Plus, my tattoo was pretty straightforward and easy. As long as he could stay in the lines, it would be pretty tough to mess up. After asking a couple questions about the safety precautions they used, I was satisfied. He had an opening in his schedule, so I decided to jump right in and get it done! The artist was a very religious guy, which I guess is good. He talked to me about my choice of symbol, maybe to make sure I knew its significance. He prayed to 3 different gods before, during, and after he gave me the tattoo. It also appeared that he bestowed some sort of blessing on all of his equipment before he started. So that’s a good thing, right?

Thirty minutes later he was done. He got me all bandaged up, and the blood returned to my fingers from squeezing my hands so hard together. Whoever says that getting a tattoo doesn’t hurt is an idiot trying to sound like a tough guy. Of course getting poked with a needle repeatedly for a half hour is going to hurt. But it wasn’t unbearable. It's kind of like someone slapping you in the same spot that is severly sunburned over and over again. That sort of acute, burning pain.

So, as I head home from my journey here, amongst all the wooden statues, pictures, pashmina scarves, refrigerator magnets, a guitar, and whatever else I find to blow my money on between now and the time I leave here, I’ll be bringing back a little piece of India that’s more permanent. It’s something I can look at every time I step in front of a mirror to remind myself of my experiences here, both good and bad, and what I’ve learned from them. More than anything, it will help me remember this significant time in my life. And just as growing up on Hilltop Farm in Little River, Kansas helped prepare me for the next phase of my life, hopefully living in a city of 8 million in Bangalore, India will do the same for whatever lies ahead for me from this point forward. At least until I reach the next checkpoint that perhaps will warrant another permanent souvenir.

Mr. Cliff and Friends Go to Sri Lanka, Part 2: The Womit

*Warning: This blog post will be 50% about throwing up, and 50% about the once in a lifetime opportunity to trek through a world heritage rainforest site, the only one of its kind on the planet. It’s unfortunate that those two things are intertwined, but in order to accurately portray my experience, I feel the need to tell it like it happened and try to help you understand what I felt at the time. I’ll try to keep it entertaining, so you have a little bit of reason to keep reading. But if this post isn’t the least read of all my blog posts, there is something seriously wrong with my readership. But it will also be an interesting challenge for me to make a post about womit (for explanation of womit, read my PREVIOUS POST) entertaining.

Let’s get graphic. Don’t think less of me after reading this post.

**I actually decided to make the text talking about ralfing a different color, so you can skip over those parts if you want to. Also, special thanks to urban dictionary and thesaurus.com for all of the different synonyms of “vomit”. If you don't want to read about spewing, don't read the maroon text.

If you want to read about the experience from the viewpoint of someone who was actually able to enjoy it, I highly recommend reading Andrea and Alan’s blog! They do a much better job of writing an actual Blog, and not a collection of 3,000 word short stories like I do.

- October, 2006-   Manhattan, Kansas

College kids do dumb things. That’s no secret. It’s also those dumb things that are what you talk about when getting together years after, and the things that make college the best time of your life. The dumb thing we were doing this particular weekend? 8 AM case race. BEFORE leaving to tailgate before a home football game.

The challenge had been thrown down. The eight of us who live at 823 Laramie had divided into two teams to see who could drink 30 beers faster. A good old fashioned case race. The four of us that live on the top floor vs. the four that live on the bottom two floors. What better way to assert your superior masculinity than to prove you can drink beer faster?  I look at my comrades in our huddle and see a beer drinking dynasty. Byron Noll, who has been described by many people as a mountain of a man. Brandon Deiter, 6’6” of pure Northeast Kansas fury. And the incomparable Branden Comfort, who you might not want in an all day drinking marathon, but this was a sprint, and he excelled at that. And then there's me. The only member of my team standing below 6’3”, but I make up for it with a healthy beer belly that I have worked hard to acquire the previous 4.5 years of college.

The opposition? It’s like the Washington Generals playing the Harlem Globetrotters. Andy Wilcox (as featured in my blog 1 Down, 6 To Go) is the only original member of the opposing team that showed up, as the others (including Brett Beem who I’m pretty sure had made the initial challenge) had fled in terror. You have to admire Andy’s courage as he prepares to go to battle with a ragtag group of replacements. A small crowd has gathered to watch the epic bout in our living room, where we have set up a table so we can keep track of the other team across from us. It’s not Holyfield vs. Tyson, but its close. You can feel the tension in the air as we wait for the signal to begin. My mind wanders back to the feeling of being in the starting blocks before a 100M dash at a track meet, 5 years and 30 pounds ago. The familiar butterflies flutter around in my stomach. Perhaps it knows what is about to happen.

Finally the gun sounds. As inspirational 80’s music plays in the background, the bottom floor sprints off to an early lead, as they chug their first cans of Natural Light in impressive time. They are excited, and are trying to intimidate us with their smashing of beer cans and fist pumping. But a smile forms on my lips, as I know that this is a foolhardy tactic. Even though it’s a sprint, chugging is not advisable, as your team will have to average 7.5 beers apiece, and your body can only take so much chugging before your stomach revolts. My team knows this, and we deploy our strategy of steady gulps followed by a few seconds of rest to allow ourselves to expel the excess carbonation. Its 10 minutes before we’ve caught up to their torrid pace. 15 minutes in, their first team member is down. He's headed outside to empty his stomach contents. 20 minutes in, their second team member is down, and it’s clear that we have it won.

But then, I get greedy. I do the quick math and realize that we have a chance to beat the 30 minute barrier. As “Eye of the Tiger” blares on the stereo, our team wordlessly agrees to kick it into high gear, a fierce determination in our eyes. We have a new opponent; the clock. 5 beers apiece down. 6 beers. 7. But it isn’t meant to be, as the clock ticks past the half hour point. We gave it our all, but just came up short. But we still have our original goal to finish, so we get back to business. As the clock ticks towards 32 minutes, I am the last person on my team with beer in my cup. My teammates start to slow clap, as “The Final Countdown” fittingly plays in the background.

I’m so full. I’m pretty sure that my stomach can’t take one more sip of beer. But it would be showing weakness to ask a teammate to finish for me. They have done their part, now it’s time for me to do mine. I stare into my red Solo cup, and see a mere half inch of Natty left in the bottom. One sip, that’s all. I steel myself to finish, driven forward by the slow clapping as it gradually increases pace. I close my eyes and throw it back, and hold my arms in the air in triumph. We embrace as a team, celebrating our achievement. But then it feels as though my throat is getting smaller. Uh oh.

There’s no time to navigate my way to the trash can. Luckily my cup is still in hand, and luckily the first wave is all foam. That allowed me time to get to the trash can for the subsequent waves of recycled beer ruminating from my system. After I finish, my dinosaur calls finally subsiding, I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth so I can continue celebrating with my teammates and head to the tailgate. I look in the mirror as I wash my face and see that during the recent turn of events, I had broken blood vessels in my eyes from the sheer force of my recent regurgitations. When my parents ask what happened to my eyes when I meet up with them later at the tailgate, I realize that dancing around the topic is a fruitless effort around my friends. I’m not sure, but it’s possible that my mom has never been more proud of me than she was at that moment.

May 2012 – Sinharaja Rainforest Park, Friday May 18, 2012- 6 years later

I automatically knew something was wrong right when I woke up. It was early; 5:30 AM since we needed to leave for the rainforest by 6:30. I felt like crap. I was still stuffed from the three plates of Indian food I ate the night before. It didn’t feel like I had even started to digest it in the 10 hours since I ate it. So breakfast was out of the question for me. The nice people at the hotel had packed us a breakfast, but I didn’t even want to think about food. Especially as I started having curry burps. But as I got up and started moving around, I started feeling better. There was just this feeling deep down in my stomach things could unwind in a hurry if something in my belly was triggered.



Pre-wommit. Still thought I was invincible.



We got all packed up for the rainforest and met our Jeep driver, who our guide had hired the night before to take us to the rainforest entrance, because we definitely needed a jeep for the roads we were traveling on. This jeep had seen its share of rainforest roads, and it was the type with bench seats on the outside that faced each other. It also had open sides, so you could enjoy the view on the drive. After driving for a while, he pulled over to the side of the road and ran into a house, and came out with two adorable kids donned in their school uniforms and also a giant bag filled with something heavy enough he was carrying it with two hands. After inquiring what was in the bag, we were informed that it was a giant python, but not to worry because it was dead. I don’t know how big it was, but judging how much he was struggling to carry the bag, and judging by the size of the lump in the bag, I’m guessing the snake was 10-12 feet long, no joke.  I decided to poke the bag to ensure that it was indeed a snake. Yep. Snake. Later we found out from our guides that the snake was indeed not dead. But the residents that live near the rainforest often times find these snakes in their houses and they bring them back to the rainforest to turn free. WHAT?! A little ways further up the road the kids hopped out of the jeep on the side of the road that wound up further into the mountains to walk the rest of the way to school.



Stopping on the way up for a photo op. (Picture stolen from Andrea and Alan)

After half an hour more of driving, all the while viewing the lush and stark beauty of the the hills and trees and wildlife, we finally reached the outside edge of the rainforest where vehicles were no longer allowed. So we hopped out of the Jeep and met our guides. We were also provided with leech socks, which are big booties that you put over your socks and the bottom of your pants, and tie at the top. Obviously these are to keep the creepy crawlies from climbing up your pants legs. Or maybe it’s so they can laugh at the dumb sissy white tourists, since no one else had leech socks on.


Donning the leach socks. At this point, just assume that most pictures I stole from Alan and Andrea, as about 2 minutes after this picture was taken I was more worried about living than taking pictures.

 They also chopped open coconuts for us to have a nice refreshing snack. All it really did was stir up my stomach contents to prepare it for the onslaught that would soon start.

This was just a flame to the fuse. Just didn't know it yet.

At this point Andrea said I should just throw up, but I informed her that my stomach was made of steel, and that I hadn’t thrown up in 6 years, and I wasn’t about to break that streak on an intentional puke. She then laughed and told me that I had just tempted the universe and that I would soon pay for it. I thought I had been keeping pretty good score with the universe, and I thought we were about even at the point. Turns out I was wrong. It soon became obvious that I was going to blow chunks all over the place. So I admitted defeat and separated myself from the others, who were standing and waiting. It’s an odd feeling, this whole throwing up thing. It had been so long. But as the inevitability came to pass, the last 5.5 years flashed before my eyes, as wave after wave of rice, curry, and coconut juice was spewed forth from my system. All I could think about was having to start the clock over. But man, did I feel better.  I was a brand new man. Of course I had to document the experience by taking a picture of it (which I’ll refrain from posting). I was also disappointed with myself that I had not asked Andrea and Alan to take a picture of me in the action. But just in case, I instructed them to do so in the future if the opportunity ever presented itself in the future.

Finally we were all set to go on our rainforest trek. It was amazing, and a very surreal experience to be walking through a famous rainforest in Sri Lanka. Our guides were awesome. They were incredibly knowledgeable about all types of plants, animals, and everything we saw really. If we had a question about something, they had an answer. They could spot things amongst the thousand different shades of green that an untrained eye would never be able to see. One time we stopped and one of the guides just dodged off the path and into the dense plants and trees. 4 or 5 minutes he reappeared and told us to come with him. He had found two awesome little forest owls that were sleeping. They were so cool! They were tiny, and vibrantly colored, as owls go. Here’s a little info about the plants and animals from our travel agent:

The vegetation is classified as tropical wet evergreen forest and the area under the reserve is 11,187 hectares. Out of the 331 woody trees and lianas identified 192 (60%) are endemic to Sinharaja. Regarding Fauna, 141 bird species recorded here and 24 are endemic (27 for the entire country), Butterflies 65 species (1 endemic), Fishes 10 (07 endemic), Amphibians 19 (08 endemic), Reptiles & Snakes 29 (14 endemic), and Mammals 40 (07 endemic).

Here are some pictures of some of the cooler things we saw:



Spider that was as big as my face. Saw a lot of these guys.



Cool kangaroo lizard. Looked just like a kangaroo when it jumped!




I don't remember what this plant was called, but it looks suspiciously like a condom. It traps bugs in the liquid at the bottom and digests them as food. Very cool.



Cool tiny frog.

One thing that was not cool about the rainforest; it was hot. Debilitatingly hot. And humid. I sweat quite a bit as it is. But ten minutes into the trek I was soaked in sweat, especially since my little barfing session. Twenty minutes in, it was clear that whatever it is that caused me to vanti etu (local language for vomit. See what I did there?) the first time was not done with me yet. I started to feel like crap yet again. So I hung back from the group again. It turns out that Alan and Andrea had been listening, as they got a picture of me tossing my cookies this time. And this time I coughed up even more than I did the first time. I was pounding water trying to keep hydrated, as I was sweating profusely by this time, my shirt completely saturated.



On the spot as they promised! This could be an Ansel Adams.

Soon after that we came to a fork in the road where we had the option to take a path that wound higher into the hills, and also got us into some of the thicker levels of the primary rainforest, which we all wanted to check out. After my second bout, I wasn’t feeling well at all, but I wasn’t going to let that stop us from exploring. Bad idea, for me anyways. The climb was much more rigorous that I had expected, and my energy was shot. Between being sick two times and sweating buckets, I didn’t have much left in me. I was no longer really able to enjoy the rainforest because I felt so awful. I didn’t really listen to any of the guides’ explanations anymore, as I was trying to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. I had one goal at that point, and that was to get out of the damn rainforest as quickly as possible. I don’t know how many spider webs I walked right into and didn’t care in the slightest, even though I knew the size of the beasts that spun said webs. That wasn’t a concern of mine at the time. There were a few times where I thought I might pass out, so I had to sit down on the ground to rest and try to muster up some energy. During one of these times of pure misery, while sitting on the root of a gigantic tree, it became clear that I was going to upchuck again. I didn’t even move from my position. I didn’t care anymore. My elbows on my knees and head in hands, I regurgitated curry and rice and coconut milk for the third time.

Womit #3. Pure misery.

After that bout was over, I wondered if I was going to be able to stand up. Realizing that there were no vehicles allowed in the rainforest, and even if there were, there’s no way they would make it up the tiny path we just climbed. I had to suck it up. So I mustered all the strength I could, and continued to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other. Finally we started heading back downhill, which made things a little easier. And a few minutes later, we emerged out of the thick, sticky forest into a bit of a clearing. Finally a little bit of air! But I was still on a mission to get the hell out of there.

Not an ideal path to be hiking on when you're about ready to fall over.

A few minutes later I spied a little shelter that housed some benches, which I made a bee-line for. Alan, Andrea, and one guide were going to take a trail to see some gigantic tree, but there was no way I was going to be able to make it off my bench. So they had one guide stay and watch me while the other three took off on a little side route. About a minute after they left, I passed out on the bench. I awoke to a now all too familiar feeling that I was going to hurl. So I leaned over the railing of the shelter and gave her the old heave ho. Finally I must have been completely out of stomach contents, as  the first wave contained only a few grains of rice and whatever coconut juice and water was left, and the last few waves were just dry heaves. It was kind of humorous because I looked at the guide who had drawn the short stick and had to watch over me, because he clearly didn’t know what to do. He sat probably 30 feet away in the common crouching position just kind of staring at me. There's not much else he could do I suppose.  I sat up for awhile just in case I wasn’t quite done, and a few minutes later Alan and Andrea came back.

Sometime around womit #4. Even my freaking quads and knees were sweating.



Finally, after the last flat stretch of trail, we emerged from the rainforest a few minutes later. I felt like Andy Dufresne in The Shawshank Redemption after he emerged from the river of sewage.  I was upset because I wasn’t able to fully able to enjoy the awesomeness and diversity of the rainforest, but I was elated to be out of there at the same time. Luckily Alan and Andrea took a lot of pictures so I at least have something to remember to good parts by. I just wanted to be able to sit down and stop sweating. When we got back our jeep guy was waiting to take us back down the mountain and back to our rainforest lodge. I got the honor of sitting in the reclined front seat of the jeep, which felt awesome. When we got back to our lodge, we all took a quick dip in the pool, as it was the same spring water that was feeding our shower anyway. To be able to sit and soak in the cool water was amazing. That made me feel 20 times better, and after that I was pretty sure that I was done womiting. For lunch, the staff prepared pretty much the same meal that we had had the night before, in pretty much the same quantity. There was no way I was going to be able to eat that again, and very few things sounded good to me. So they brought me out a plate of different fruits, which tasted amazing. I decided to go take a nap while Andrea and Alan finished lunch, since the smell of their curry was threatening to awaken the demons inside me.



I felt good enough to pose for a picture, but not quite good enough to take off my awesome leech socks.



Soon after we checked out of our "hotel", andwe were off to Kandy, which was the next stop on our Sri Lanka adventure. We still had another seven hour drive ahead of us, but a lot had already happened that day. It was definitely a memorable experience, for more than one reason. I can only hope that it’s another 6 years before I have another one like it.  

**If you read this far, congratulations! You just spent 10 minutes of your life reading a 3500 word blog post about puke. Those are 10 minutes you'll never get back!