My 20 year old cotton sarongs: a lesson in sustainability.

When I first lived in Sri Lanka, twenty years ago, I decided to buy several white cotton sarongs, which are popular attire for Sri Lankan men. I made my purchase of three at a small tailor ship located in a small shack-like structure, equipped with treadle sewing machines, on a busy street near where I lived.


A sarong is a tubular garment, about 4 ft. long, which one wraps around the waist. Purists, or those who cannot afford a belt, hold it up with distinctive tie. I have always found it simpler to wear a belt. Middle and upper class men do not wear sarongs in public, unless they are politicians, but most Sri Lankan men wear them around the house, even when close friends are present. Though I have bought a few others, in the intervening years, I still have two of the original three that I first purchased. I expect they will remain functional until I die. Among the garments I owned in 1988, my sarongs are probably the only ones remaining in my wardrobe. It is a lesson in sustainability.

Not saving gas and not having fun

Last Monday I drove from Washington to Annapolis, Maryland, to visit a friend. I came away with the impression that $4.00 per gallon gas has had scant impact on American driving habits, at least so far. Limited access highways around Washington, DC, especially the notorious Washington Beltway (route 495) were choked with traffic.

Hoping to avoid traffic congestion, I began my outbound trip at 10AM in the morning and began my return trip at 3:00,hoping to avoid traffic - to little or no avail. On the trip out, I got snarled in a construction area with most route signs removed. It took four circuits, each with requests for directions at filling stations before I was able to extricate myself. On the return trip, there was a 20 min period when I inched along at about 2 mph, along with thousands of other frustrated drivers. During ‘rush hour’ - a misnomer if there ever was one - the traffic is worse. How much fuel is wasted, each day, by traffic congestion?

Since there is a direct relationship between speed and cost per mile, one might think that cost conscious drivers would be seeking to save money by reducing driving speeds, at least to the posted speed limits. One might expect this especially of truck drivers who are now paying $4.75 or more for diesel and complaining bitterly about declining profits. But no, the pattern of high-speed, life-threatening truck driving - my 21 year old Honda Civic makes me particularly sensitive to this - seems unchanged.

I wonder how high gas prices must go before US government - federal, state and local -will be motivated to offer decent public transit and before Americans, especially professional truckers, will be motivated to drive responsibly. Is it $6, $10 per gallon - or what?

Saving gas and having fun

I have long done some grocery shopping on my bicycle, but I buy in bulk and packing oversized bottles of grape juice, multiple tubs of yoghurt and several bottles of wine into my backpack was proving difficult. Just before departing for Singapore, I invested in two capacious ‘saddle bags’ that could easily snap on an off my bicycle’s rear wheel. Now twilight shopping excursions are becoming a regular part of my routine.

The Tenleytown district of Washington DC is ideal for this purpose. It is an easy three mile or so ride from my Anderson Hall apartment. There is a Whole Foods Market featuring organic produce, hormone-free range fed beef, a great selection of cheese - in fact, everything one who loves to cook, eat and entertain could desire. Nearby are a pharmacy, hardware store and, for more mundane grocery purchases, a Giant Food market. Food shopping patterns in the neighborhood seem more like daily visits to local markets in Europe than America’s world of impersonal, homogenized megamarkets, surrounded by parking lots.

Last Thursday night I dropped computer, books and files in my apartment, attached my saddle bags and rode off down Nebraska avenue into the deepening twilight. Tenleytown was thronged with people walking about or relaxing at sidewalk cafes. There was only one other bicycle at the Whole Foods parking garage. I purchased shrimp, crabmeat, tomatoes, a freshly baked mini-baguette and two bottles of Muscadet. Former AU Provost and Interim President, Milton Greenberg was stopping by for lunch the following day. Greetings were exchanged with several acquaintances who were shopping or walking in the neighborhood.

I loaded up my saddle bags, flicked on my strobe flasher lights and ventured out into the evening. Fortunately the ride between Anderson and Tenleytown is virtually all on sidewalks. The day’s near-tropical heat had subsided. The night air was cool and fresh. Lines of cars sped by me on Nebraska Avenue. Passing the Swedish embassy, I could smell fragrant shrubs that lined the compound’s protective wall and see fireflies blinking.

Reconciliation and hope through Sri Lanka's Current Crisis

I was recently asked by the Anglican Bishop of Colombo to share my thoughts on Sri Lanka’s crisis with clergy and lay persons who are participants in the diocese’s ‘Program on Peace and Reconciliation.’ Much of my talk focused on challenges that Sri Lanka faces, drawing on my recent lectures and published work. However saying something meaningful about Reconciliation and hope was a challenge. For assistance I borrowed a King James Bible from my hostess and researched the concordance (list of topics with scriptural references).

What I found most compelling were the passages about forgiveness (there were none about reconciliation).

The gospel of Matthew, Chapter 6
• Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors
• For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly father will also forgive you. But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your father forgive your trespasses.

The Gospel of Luke, Chapter 6
• But love ye your enemies and do good, and lend, hoping for nothing again; and your reward shall be great and ye shall be the children of the Highest, for he is kind unto the unthankful and to the evil.
• 36. Be ye merciful as your father also is merciful.
• 37. Judge not and ye shall not be judged; condemn not and ye shall not be condemned; forgive and ye shall be forgiven.

The Gospel of Luke Chapter 23
• And when they were come unto the place which is called calvary, there they crucified him and the malfactors, one on the right hand and the other on the left. Then said Jesus, Father forgive them, for they know not what they do. And they parted his raiment and cast lots.

The Gospel of John, Chapter 2
• 9. He that saith he is in the light and hateth his brother, is in darkness, even until now.
• 10. He that loveth his brother abideth in the light and there is none occasion of stumbling in him.

Pauls Epistle to the Ephesians Chapter 4
• 31. Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger and clamor and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice
• 32. And be ye kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

I concluded my talk with the following:

About two years ago, one of my close friends, the writer Elizabeth Neeld, shared with me her new book entitled, A Spiritual Primer, a Guide to Quiet Time and Prayer. One of the meditative practices she describes begins with what is know as the prayer attributed to St. Francis. Since reading this book, I have begun most days with the St. Francis Prayer. And it is with this prayer that I should like to conclude our search for understanding of Sri Lanka’s crisis, hope and reconciliation, this evening.

There must be many among you who know this prayer and you should feel free to join me, either silently or aloud.

O Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace
Where there is hatred, let me sow love
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith
Where there is despair, hope
Where there is darkness, light
Where there is sadness, joy
O divine master, let me seek not so much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to live
For it is giving that we receive
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
It is in dying that we are born to eternal life

"We have introduced a new automated system to improve our services."

Saturday morning is a time for catching up on personal chores that have be deferred during a busy week. This week the chore list was greater because I had been away for a month and my work-day (normally 8 AM to about 8 PM) efficiency was reduced by jet lag.

One chore - renewing a prescription I receive from my ‘health care provider,’ Kaiser Permanente called to mind a contemporary social-economic pathology I find particularly aggravating. Kaiser has had an automated prescription renewal system for several years. The layers of insulation between the system and an intelligent human being have become ever more difficult to penetrate. However the skills that serve me well as American University’s academic information technology director have helped me to penetrate its intricacies with reasonable success.

On my next to last renewal attempt, a more complex menu of options began with an announcement, “we have introduced a new automated system to improve our services.” The particulars, I discovered, were these: Prescriptions would now be filed by the ‘Kaiser Automated Prescription Refill Center.” Prescription numbers would change (one should always have a writing instrument at hand to take note of changes and instructions). The procedures were more complex. The refill time would now be 7 to 10 days rather than 5 to 7 days. “Improve our services?” For whom, I asked myself?

I am not picking on Kaiser Permanente. The problem is endemic. Some time ago, American University introduced an automated room scheduling system for events. The time for a response to be given to requests immediately increased from less than 24 hours to three days - the target - or much more.

As opposed to the ‘improve our services’ announcements that are customary when automated systems are introduced, I propose the following.

‘We have introduced a new automated system. Its purpose is to cut costs by reducing the size, competence and compensation level of our work force. Once the glitches are worked out we do expect to provide a minimally adequate level of service, though of lower quality than previously. We appreciate your patience and forbearance. If you choose not to be patient and forbear, we recommend that you find another provider. Press “7” for a menu of instructions on how to do so.”

The costs that terrorism imposes on a society

On Tuesday, I joined a friend for a meeting on investment opportunities in Colombo’s version of the the Twin Towers, Sri Lanka’s World Trade Center. To reach the building we first had to park our car in a dusty parking lot - no tarmac. There was a long line of cars waiting to be inspected for bombs. which we had to transit before being being permitted to park. After parking, we walked through Sri Lanka’s once vibrant commercial area to our destination. The streets were entirely blocked off with barriers guarded by armed men. The stores where tourists and locals once strolled looking for crafts and bargains were closed. To approach the building, we had to pass through two airport-style security checks, one outside the building and another more rigorous one inside. Our meeting lasted an hour. Dealing with security upped our time by an additional 75 minutes. Who can count the costs of turning a vibrant commercial district into a sterile, security enforced wasteland? Who can measure the impact on prospective investor confidence of having to transit an area before meeting with government officials on a prospective business deal?

Late Friday night, I was conveyed to the airport, at 11 PM by a driver, ‘Pali’ who had worked with me during the momentous (for me) month that Paradise Poisoned saw the light of day as a published book. I had not seen him for two years but in the year we worked together, we had taken several long drives so it was good to catch up with him and his family. The tourist business is rough, but Pali is entrepreneurial and was enthusiastic in discussing other options he was considering to diversify his income.

There were new security arrangements at the airport, which involved long waits in line, with drivers jockeyng aggressively for position. At the airport entrance, baggage and passengers were screened electronically. The hand search of baggage had been eliminated. Subsequently there was a second search prior to entering the waiting lounge prior to boarding.

Enhanced security is providing gainful employment to many Sri Lankans, as it is to many Americans, but it is time consuming and costly. The terrorists may not be winning but in a developing nation, their ability to impose severe costs on those who travel and do business means that they certainly are not losing.

An international mosaic at the dinner table in Colombo’s Cinnamon Gardens

When in Sri Lanka, I have lived for several years in a remarkable establishment. Formerly a home in Colombo’s upscale Cinnamon Gardens district, it has become a guest house for visiting scholars and NGO workers. This evening a group of 12 gathered around the dining room table. There were three anthropology doctoral students from, respectively, Argentina, India and North Carolina. A young woman from New Zealand was awaiting an assignment and housing with the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. Two Voluntary Service Organization workers from India had returned from home leave and were awaiting a trip back to Sri Lanka’s ‘frontier’ town, Vavuniya. A young woman from Australia, the niece of our hostess was waiting for her wedding Sari to be completed before returning home. Two MA students from an Italian University, one was from Zambia, were lighting temporarily before heading to a North Coastal town for field work. Earlier in the week, there were additional guests from Eritrea and, again, India. It was a remarkable gathering of a international group that will probably never sit around the same table again. But a commitment to international work and an acceptance, even celebration of each other’s differences drew us together for two hours in a rich, if very transient community.