New dress

Here are the pics of my new Sri Lankan dress. I got it hand sewn for about $5!!!! YEAH!!

Lankan Pumpkin Pie

Filling:
1. Shave a pumpkin with a coconut shaver

...and yes I was doing this in my pjs....


2. Grind cinnamon on a cheese grader


3. Grind cloves on grinding stone out back

4. Grind ginger on a cheese grader
5. Buy condensed milk, preferably the one that is not Caramel flavored
6. Get out adult sized easy bake oven and try to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit
7. Combine all ingredients and pour into crust
Crust:



1. Try finding shortening (yeah, good luck!)
2. End up using some sort of shortening feeling buttery stuff
3. Try and guess at the feel of the dough, as the shortening will NOT work the same.
4. Roll it out, line the pan, and hope for the best!



While baking:
1. Warn your family that the Lankan Carmel pumpkin pie will taste very different from the all American various you imagined and apologize for the large chunks of spices and pumpkin that would not blend.
2. Write blog….. :)

Finished product!

Family Photos

FINALLY! Photos of the boys in the family


Malli (Nilshan)

Malli - funny face

Phillip, cousin, 16

Phillip and Venura

Amma and Tatta!

Malli...again

Waiting…for what? Death?

“Good things come to those who wait.”

But do they really? Success comes to those who strive for it. Perhaps, in order to be happy, we must strive for happiness. Maybe if we want good things, we need to be active in our search for them. Nothing good can come out of being passive and lazy in our actions and letting other bring the happiness to you on a golden platter. This is not likely to happen and, even if it does, what is simply handed over to you is not true happiness. True happiness must be in what we do and the actions we take for one another and ourselves. The thought may count, but only for so much.
In addition, what if we wait and wait and wait and nothing ever happens. What happens if we never get those good things and end up dying without happiness? Like a person who works their whole life saving up for retirement, and then ends up dying before retirement comes? Or the student who spends all of their time in the classroom, nearly half their life, but doesn’t learn about the world from LIVING in it? What good is waiting if you aren’t living??

Brainless Boys on Sacred Stairs

On our way down South with the group, we stopped at a small temple that was known for its beautiful paintings and sculptures, both Buddhist and Hindi. Kate and I were walking down the steps to the temple at the bottom of the hill. Now, mind you, we were dressed conservatively because we had known we were going to the temple. We had no makeup on, sleeved shirts, and long skirts. As we rounded the corner while walking down the steps, we encountered a group of teenage boys who were hanging out at the bottom of the steps, right next to the temple entrance. We usually would try to avoid a group of boys, because of all the horrid cat calling, but there was no other way to the temple entrance, and we figured they wouldn’t dare to say anything on sacred ground.
We were dead wrong. As we walked through the crowd, we got “hello”, “what’s your name?”, “hey beautiful ladies”, and many unnecessary faces. We gritted our teeth and bared it until we got inside. Then, I blew my top. I was furious. How dare they? And at a friggin’ TEMPLE? How dare they call themselves followers of Buddha! What hypocrisy and disrespect! We show more respect, and none of us are Buddhists. I wanted to go back out and shout at them and ask them what the Lord Buddha, or their families would say about their actions, but it was no use. It would have probably just provoked them more, if they could even understand enough English to get what I was saying, because they show no respect for white women. Apparently, because I am white, I am either a whore or a tourist. I need to punch some faces in. Maybe I can add bitch to that list. I think I like that option more than the other two. At least I have agency as a bitch.
Screw it – karma will get them in the end and they will be lucky if they are born any higher than snakes!

YAY for MAIL

Dear Megz, Chrissie, and Nikol,
Thanks for the fun package!!! I just got it today!

For those of you who don’t know the contents:
- a Tigger stuffed animal (yay for cuddling)
- Nerds candy and a Ring pop (maybe if I wear the ring pop on my ring finger I can fool the boys here)
- a ping pong ball (I am assuming for tea-pong, right?)
- an Itunes card (which, if I had internet, would be great. I shall have to wait)
- a Chipotle burrito basket (presumably stolen, but thanks for the gesture you crazy girls. I will definitely use it here just to think of you and your shoplifting problems. I will try to get you help soon. Hehe.)

Thanks guys. You’re too sweet! I miss you all!!!!!

Funny quotes and stories

“Shit wennǝwaa” (Shit happens) – Amare’s saying (our Sinhala teacher)

“This is some beautiful cleavage!” – Alex, talking about the rock that he found, as we later found out

“No-Wae-Ma-Beer”
“What do you think THAT means?”
“No way man?”
“No way mabear?”
“No way mama…?”
“No..waa..m..ber….”
“Oh shit – it’s November!”
- conversation between Sara and I in Sinhala class

SINHALA MISHAPS

Jen
What she wanted to say in Sinhala: “I ate a papaya for breakfast.”
What she REALLY said: “I ate a chest [breast in context] for breakfast”

Alex (to Sandamali, one of our teachers)
What he wanted to say in Sinhala: “I like coconut milk”
What he REALLY said: “I like your coconut milk”

So, context: We were told to read these marriage proposals from the newspaper in Sinhala, and then make up a skit based on them. Sara and I decided that I would be the girl looking to get married and she would be the boy who was calling about the advertisement. The conversation, in translation, went as follows:

Sara: Hi, this is a little awkward, but I am calling about your marriage add in the paper. I’m Asanka.
Bryanna: Ok. I am Bryanna. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?
Sara: Well, I am rich, educated, fair, very handsome, tall, and smart. I can also speak English very well.
…..now here is where it got interesting.
What I was SUPPOSED to say:
Bryanna: How tall are you?
But, of course, with my broken Sinhala, instead of using “how” I used “what”, so I asked,
“What [on you] is tall?”
OMG! And, OF COURSE, I had no idea I had messed up, so my Sinhala teacher just stood there and cracked up for a while, then asked me to repeat it before he told me it was wrong. Sara’s reaction: “Well, at least it was a practical question!” HA!

The Death of My Black Friday Camera

Goodbye my beloved red beauty.
After waiting for you for several hours at Wal-Mart at 5am,
I had you as my own.
But now, alas, you met your death off linen sheets
and our life together is gone!

My camera is officially dead (or I guess unofficially, as I don’t know what official I would go to in order to pronounce the death of a camera). Pau! This was the camera that I got on Black Friday from Wal-Mart for about $70. It wasn’t all that good, but got me through two months in Sri Lanka and one month in Morocco. In its adventures around the world, it was left at a Sufi master’s house, traveled through the medina streets, photographed magnificent sunsets from many a coast, and caught Dan’s brilliant dance moves on video. At home it took pictures of friends, neighbors, dorm rooms, scenery, and many candid moments! It gave me amazing photos, great memories, and wonderful inspiration!
Thank you, Mr. Camera. I am sorry you fell off the bed, but at least you can say you died at the most beautiful hotel in Colombo!

Brush Strokes

Brush Strokes

Walking through the gallery I look
into the faces of the privileged few
and wonder
who paints the others?

Who paints the faceless naked woman,
her body found
floating
down the river?

Where are the faces of the thousands
laying
nameless
in the jungles?

Faces painted in blood
red
by the gleaming silver brushes
of war.

Where is the portrait of the child soldier
with death in his eyes and
a gun
slung
on his boney back?

Who dares to illustrate the woman
with child
cut and raped and left
to die
crimson rivers flowing
by her side,
her child
making no cry?


The beauty of life portrayed here
does nothing but mask
the faceless,
hidden behind the frames.
Faces painted in blood
red
by the gleaming silver brushes
of war.

Colombo Art Trip

I am a Woman Finding My Voice

Along the road of self-discovery, I came upon this book. Actually, I had this book for a while and felt inspired to pick it up again. And WOW, has it changed the way I think. I think, for any woman who has ever had a problem with herself, self esteem, or being proud of being who they are - you must read this!

Here is an excerpt from the first page:

I am a WOMAN
My most fundamental truth is that I am a woman. From the moment I was conceived, I have been female; daughter of Creation; girl-child becoming woman. It is the only thing that will never change. It is one thing that I know about myself finally and certainly. Why had this obvious truth escaped me for so long? Why have I spend so many years fighting to be thought of and treated and ‘a person’ rather than valued and esteemed as a woman? Such a betrayal of my essence, this neutered equality. I am equal to, but not the same as, men – and I thank the Divine that it is so! I claim and celebrate my being, be-ing, in this world as WOMAN – with womanvalues and womanviews and womanrhythms and womanblood and womanheart and womansoul. I am a woman.
- Janet Quinn

I have decided to take the title of each chapter and make a self reflection of the book. Some do not fit, and others will be added, but I think Janet provides inspiration for my personal journey.

Reme: I am sending you my copy soon!
Everyone else - go buy this!!

Orphanage Visit 2 - FINALLY

New Journal

I only have 50 pages left in my travel journal and was worried that I would run out, so I went in search of a new journal. Unfortunately, I have no found a single place that sells pretty covered journals, so instead I made one myself! It took lots of tape, glue, and me gluing my fingers to everything (do not EVER give me super glue!). Oh, and I glued one of the pages in upside down. hehe






The page I glued in wrong.....

Sudu PaTe

Never till now have I seen my true color.
Never till now have I had to wonder
how to hide
my very presence
that catches the eye.
And I wonder why
my skin brands me
and tells them what to see:
A foreigner on vacation
no need for speculation,
perhaps a whore looking for trouble
or a sudu who will pay double.
Both dangerous and exciting,
but why can’t they see what I see?
A young woman trying to keep her sanity
as she is paraded around like an elephant in captivity.
A circus act meant to be performed, unknowingly.
Constant stares and I am the sight, unwillingly.
Forced to stand out and asked to fit in
my skin bears the colonial sign of sin.
Pure as ivory but tainted with the past
How long will this racism last?

Buddhist Orphanage Visit

Ok - so these were taken nearly a month ago, but all the servers I have been on have REFUSED to upload them. So- finally - here they are!!!!