A moment in Mihintale

We took the short bus ride from Jaffna Junction to Mihintale and got off in front of Mr. Asantha's barber shop. He was there and we were recognized instantly. We were pulled into his shop and he gave us both a haircut and head massage. All amazing but it meant we would have to climb to the Mihintale temple in the heat of the day. 

Mihintale was spectacular as always. Wonderful to be among the families in a place beloved by Sri Lankans and devoid of tourists. I climbed up the rock and got some amazing shots of the landscape below while Janet drew a crowd on the temple plaza. 

Before exhaustion and heatstroke hit we decided to walk over to the amazing Kaludiya Pokuna. Happy to say they cleaned it up since I was there in May. Since it was about 1PM it was about the worst possible hour for photographing the wonders of the site. But this morning at 6 AM as I looked them over I realized I could have some fun with the images and still convey the wonder of one of my favorite spots in Sri Lanka. 

Curated landscapes: Local Answers for a Global Problem

Landscapes exist because they are perceived and built by humans. Landscape is a cultural construct and so by association it is a human construct. To a greater or lesser extent every landscape shows a human touch. Landscapes are curated. It follows that you can find curated landscapes anywhere in the world. And because they are a  product of human culture, landscapes are curated differently everywhere. 

I am in Sri Lanka to study landscapes in transition, a phenomenon you pick up on every time you see a newly paved road, a construction site, or even a neglected irrigation tank, deep in the countryside. Landscapes evolve, they change over time, they grow and decay. They are always in transition. And part of that has to do with human intervention or the lack of it. 

Yesterday we visited the beautiful ancient site of Wessa Giriya, part and just south of the ancient city of Anuradhapura. Unlike Anuradhapura,  Wessa Giriya is relatively untouched by tourists. It predates the Buddhist settlement of Sri Lanka though in time it became a holy site to Buddhism as well. It is comprised of a series of large rocks and caves, with evidence of stone carvings , cave paintings, granite posts that once supported structures, and assorted relics of the human past. 

Most striking to me are the ruined gardens, partly fed by channeled water, that are part of the site. The natural beauty of the spot was harnessed to create meditative walkways, pools, and points along which the welcome breeze is felt most strongly. 

This harnessing of nature is a characteristic of Sri Lankan civilization. Maybe all cultures harness nature. We do in the West. But traditional Sri Lankan landscapes were accomplished through stewardship--something we have only begun to learn in our part of the world. Stewardship and not extraction has made this civilization viable for over 2500 years, about the age of Wessa Giriya. 

Waves of invaders introduced new cultural ways. Colonists exploited and degraded the landscape. But the tank irrigation systems remain, albeit largely in a state of disrepair. How can we learn from the traditional Sri Lankan landscapes, even those that lie in ruin like Wessa Giriya, to find new ways to approach our global problems of sustainability?

Amazing opportunity for cultural exchange

Several weeks ago I had been asked to prepare a lecture for students at Rajarata University. The moment was at hand. At exactly 8:05, as planned, Dr. Wolly showed up in his new car. The going joke the past few days has been "Tell them back home that even the drivers in Sri Lanka have PhDs!"  In his barely-used hybrid Honda we inched toward the lecture hall on a pitted back road. Finally we arrived. 

The lecture hall was on the second story of a two-wing building built some time in the last ten years. Rajarata, founded in 2001, is one of the newer universities in the national system. As all the university buildings I've seen here I was struck by the architectural arrangement that left students plenty of space and outside air. The lecture hall itself was breezy and easily darkened. 

My colleague, Dr. Wolly, on the balcony outside the lecture hall

All the AV arrangements had been set up. All I needed to do was plug in my VGA and the screen came to life. I can honestly say this compared favorably against the antiquated system I use at Boston University, where our tech assistants seem to be scrambling all the time to make things work just before lecture. 

The students started filing in quietly and soon the whole contingent, which they call a "batch" was on hand. Similar to my group at BU it amounted to about 90 students. All studying agricultural sciences.  Initially I guess I had been asked by Professor Bandara to deliver this lecture to his non-major social sciences students on the Mihintale campus. Apparently the plan had been changed without my knowing it (how many hundreds of plans have been changed while I'm here is unknown--as a clueless outsider I smile and do what I'm told--including now extending our stay in Anuradhapura for the second time). But as a seasoned (read old) lecturer I've come to expect changes like these and no matter what my visuals, I'm able to change my approach. Is this called BS-ing it??

When the dean walked into the room all rose. He gave a longish presentation on my background, embellished slightly from the one I had sent. Very cordial and apologetic that he'd have to miss the lecture as he was off to several other meetings. This being the day before a holiday (Sri Lanka is said to have more national holiday than any country in the world) there was lots to squeeze in today. 

By the way, a minute or two before we left the guesthouse a short note from Dr. Abeysingha read "hope your lecture is one hour in length." Another adjustment we professors make all the time. Same content in twenty minutes or an hour depending on contingencies. 

Soon I was "up" and lecturing on "Wonderful Water." I've seen Sri Lankan lecturers before in front of Sri Lankan audiences and I've observed they do like a little clowning. Since this comes naturally to me I let it come and we ended up having a comfortable, nicely modulated hour together. As I always do here, I asked a student to come up front to record student responses to brainstorming questions, partly because students respond so quietly and partly to intimidate them less by asking them to respond to a peer instead of to me. 

My talk had four parts that I presented upfront: 1) Introduction to Boston, 2) Why I came to Sri Lanka (isn't the Boston weather reason enough?) 3) How water works in the special case of irrigation tanks in Sri Lanka and 4) Problems with agricultural water use in the United States. 

Through the lecture I stressed the cultural roles of water, especially contrasting our American culture of water extraction to the traditional Sri Lankan value of water stewardship. I stressed what I really believe, that young people are our future and that we in America have to change our ways to survive--our agricultural water use is unsustainable. And I found that the students were aware of concepts like sustainability. 

After the lecture a couple of the advanced students who joined us in the field earlier this week came over asking for another field trip. I happily agreed and Abey agreed as well to arrange it. Thanks to the Fulbright I can afford a van to take the group into the field, a nice touch that makes things that much easier. 

So, looking forward to more encounters with students as the weeks and months go by. In fact I will be addressing students in a couple of weeks at the University of Moratuwa after a few days of joining them in their field site in Galle. Just beyond that in early November at South East University in Kalmunai, and at the University of Kelanyia in December. It's starting off to be a busy Fulbright and I like it that way!

Water management in rural Sri Lanka: no one size fits all

When the tanks (magnificent ancient reservoirs of rural Sri Lanka) are full, their serene beauty and abundant wildlife belie an inconvenient fact: they are all different. A foray through Dry Zone tanks the other day, when they are at their lowest point before the rains, highlighted this truism. 

For example the Ulankulama Wewa, a medium-sized tank that we chose for student research, has a wide, gently sloping upper bed. It is covered with low C-4 grasses that cover a variously pitted soil. The soil is dry and crumbly and the mat of grass above it must be several inches. This grass, I was told by Professor Bandara and other members of our reconnaissance team, comprises the perahana. 

      

The perahana acts as a mechanical filter, removing silts that are suspended in the water. It is supposed to act as well as a habitat for invertebrates, small fish, and birds. The perahana also provides fodder for grazing cattle. We saw it. At the same time it softens the compaction of their hooves as they cross. It preserve and enriches the tank bed soil at the same time as protecting the lower tank bed from silting. 

     Photograph courtesy of SAP SRI

The perahana at Ulankulama was wide, thick, and low-lying, in striking contrast to the perahana in photos sent to me by MUA Tennakoon of SAP SRI. The perahana of the tank at Alisthana is composed of tall reed beds, a distinct, narrow band of vegetation. The reed-bed perahana plays many of the same roles of habitat preservation and soil protection. But with a major difference. According to Dr. Tennakkoon, perahana have disappeared due to overgrazing and encroachment into the upper tank by land-hungry farmers. Is this the same perahana that Bandara describes? Inconveniently, it is not. Is it the "real" perahana, supplanted by the low-lying crabgrass of the perahana at Ulankulama? Maybe. Is there room for both forms of perahana in a healthy functioning tank? Perhaps. 

     Photograph courtesy of SAP SRI

Geographically, topographically, biologically, morphologically, and culturally each tank is different. Yet each tank performs the same roles, primarily storing water for irrigation but also maintaining the water table, ameliorating local climate, and providing a livelihood and a source of water for local human settlements. 

We are tempted to construct a typology for tanks and tank ecosystems. But as an evolutionist I am more than hesitant to do so. The tank systems evolved along with the communities that created and nurtured them. In co-evolution with biotic communities the tanks took on a myriad of forms. There can be no one "right" way to do tanks. 

There's another, practical rationale behind this. In terms of rehabilitating tanks, it's essential that we remain aware of the setting, the components, and the demands of each tank. Trying to impose a one-size-fits all model will perpetuate the destructive mistakes that have characterized tank rehabilitation since British times. 

So, with some 30,000 tanks covering the landscape, about half of which are still in use, the question arises how we can characterize them. I presume there are trends. It's not a snowflake-type once in a million. But instead of constructing typologies and defending our models at all costs, maybe we should admit collective defeat and in so doing, join forces to find a modulated approach that addresses each tank's needs. 

A Day in the Field

The long awaited day in the field finally came. We were greeted at our guesthouse lobby by driver at exactly 8:15. From there we went to pick up Professor Madduma Bandara on the other side of town. We made two more stops to pick up colleagues and students and finally made our way with a group of about eight. 

Our goal was a reconnaissance mission to find just the right spot to bring students for field research. The first few tanks we visited had too much standing water to accomplish our criteria. We were looking for the driest tank we could find with the lease attention so that we could follow the soil contours and visualize water circulation. 

There was lots of good cheer, lots of new flowers to learn about, lots of new aromas to experience, and lots of berries and wild fruits that our colleagues recognized and gave us to try. We also had some time to talk about pedagogical outlooks, student inquiry and critical thinking issues, and from a practical standpoint, lesson planning. A real high point was when one of the students romped down to the wet part of the tank and picked a bunch of lotuses for Janet. 

Since part of my goal is to map states of emotion in different landscapes I asked him what he was thinking about has he picked the flowers. Without a moment's hesitation he told me "love, peace, friendship, and good feelings." What a wonderful way to share cultural outlooks!

New Directions in International Collaborative Water Research

We got to Anuradhapura late yesterday after a long train ride that ended short of town because of a derailment just ahead. We had half an hour to change and clean up before we were brought to a meeting with about ten other people--faculty and students from Raharata University--unexpected because I had been told we were going for a social tea to a colleague's house. 

The discussion there centered around our ideas about the ancient irrigation systems whose heartland is the Dry Zone around Anuradhapura. It was so intense and unexpected we were exhausted by 7:30 when we were brought home by my kind, enthusiastic colleague Nimal Abeysingha. We fell asleep immediately without a thought of dinner. I knew deep down something amazing had transpired, something that went beyond the "cultural ambassadorship" we had undertaken as Fulbrighters. But I was too tired to sort it out. 

At midnight I woke up refreshed and clear, just as the AC stopped roaring. Here are my notes in the form of an email I wrote to my colleagues in the wee hours:

------

Abey,

Now the brain had some rest to sort out the evening's events, some ideas:

1) circulation of water in the tank is a major concern. The complex functions of the tank...bund preservation, separating and sequestering alkalai & salt, distribution of beneficial water to the paddy, etc., depend upon patterns of circulation. For our main work today let us seek clues on the tank bottom that may provide evidence for water circulation in the tank. You are the soils & water expert. You can lead this search and analyze the results. If we find some good stuff we can publish I think. 

To start: a) can we brainstorm possible types of circulation (lateral, top-to-bottom, chemical-solution,  etc.) that might occur. b) Then the possible causes of circulation patterns (slope differentials, temperature differentials, chemical differentials , etc), c) finally--the kinds of clues we might look for--channels? Deposits? Colors? Etc. 

-----

2) yesterday the professor mentioned a village social structure for dealing with water shortage. I forgot the word. Perhaps we can apply this to other kinds of problem solving, for example:

A stranger comes to you who is interested in learning more about tanks. Initially everyone is clueless what to do. But also enthusiastic & appreciating the potential benefits that might arise. Yesterday I noted that a strong, practical way to problem-solve was applied, with professor Bandara's leadership. 

A) a group of leaders (faculty) and young people (students) was assembled. 

B) the problem was stated (prof Madduma asked me about my interest. 

C) general discussion leading to specific discussion--the group threw around some ideas, anecdotes, experiences and then we got more specific: a) what are criteria? b) how can we meet those criteria? c) how does our local expertise offer a solution--questions of local geography, microclimate, rainfall patterns, etc. 

D) laying out goals for today's reconnaissance mission

E) considering farther-range plans..for example which tank(s) will we focus on for further work?

I propose that Prof. Bandara led us on an ancient village modality for problem solving. He provided strong leadership (and refreshments), group consensus was solicited, a plan of action was proposed. From a cultural and problem-solving standpoint very powerful tools were employed. Also worth publishing I think, if the Professor is interested. To start, maybe we can assemble a list of everyone present last night and their area of expertise. 

OK my friend. Lots of work ahead. Let us enjoy it! (-:


Samuel Hammer
Associate Professor
Boston University

Unlocking more than our phones

Part of our ongoing dialog here in Sri Lanka is trying to decipher the human messages around us. Why did this person say that? What's the rivalry between X and Y? What was the meaning behind that admonition? Does it all add up to something we can't understand? Does it matter?

So this game we call cultural exchange, a kind of ambassadorial prerogative, is complicated and fraught. We are given wide latitude because we're foreigners, a strange species of pale beings. But in that latitude is also a kind of gulf. Uncrossable? No. But definitely something lost in translation. 

So it occurred to me as we spent hours in the labyrinthine "Liberty Mall" yesterday, an air conditioned souk of electronics stores, gaming places, cheap clothing, and more than anything phone repair places--that we are trying to unlock more than just our phones. We're trying, perhaps with some futility, to unlock the cultural clues that surround us, and in which we're strangely embedded. 

Janet summed it up as we got ready to fall asleep last night (we mightily pushed ourselves to stay up until eight): it's not foolhardiness what we're doing. But nine months in Sri Lanka is definitely a leap of faith.