I've been wanting to go to Arugam Bay since arriving in Sri Lanka and reading about it my my Rough Guide travel guide. According to Rough Guide it takes 5 hours to travel from Batticaloa. This apparently holds true unless you have someone who offers to drive you-then it takes 2, depending on how fast you go.
One of the German expats here rented a van for eight of us, including my friend from Beirut. We were told 8am we would leave. I've grown accustomed to being culturally sensitive to concepts of time and have become extremely lax with meeting up with people due to my past in Latin America and the Middle East. In these places 8am means more like 8:45-or 9 depending if you also want breakfast. Then it could be around 10. Not so for the Germans. At 8:06 I received a phone call asking why I was not at the meetup spot. When I said we were waiting on a tuk tuk, he got a bit short and said he would come to us-better than waiting. When the van arrived there was silence inside and I was introduced to the concept of German time.
The drive down was gorgeous. Lime green rice paddy fields stretched on for miles on either side of the road. They use cow skulls for scarecrows here and there were several spread out in the fields. In one town there were these odd looking bubble houses that are best described as Hobbit houses depicted in Lord of the Rings, but of course much larger. It was explained to me that these homes are engineered to withstand great amounts of water pressure should another tsunami or flood strike the region.
Whether it be the German's culture or just the fact that he really wanted a cheeseburger I'm not sure, but the mood lightened upon reaching our destination. Arugam Bay is a sleepy surfer town on Sri Lanka's east coast. Cheap accommodation is abundant and there are loads of strung out surfer types walking around with long boards-or just strung out. Tamils own most of the businesses right on the beach. In post-tsunami Sri Lanka a rule has been established that all housing must lie 100 meters in from the coast and all of these places are currently in violation. On the other side of the main road-opposite the beach side accommodation-a string of businesses are popping up owned by Sinhalese. Yet again another reminder of the ethnic divisions that exist. Many places have cushions you can lie on and read--or as we did play lots of UNO games and drink Lion Beer.
There's a reason why surfers flock there in that the waves are amazingly big and strong. I was confused by the culture on the beach in that the locals all seemed to cover up, but there were still tourists with bikinis...reminded me of the Middle East in some ways. The waves were fun to bob around in and I really did want to try my hand at a surf lesson, but alas I suppose I'm still apprehensive due to my wave accident back in 2009 that involved my being swept up in a monster wave and thrown down on a sand bar leaving me with a Class 5 separated shoulder. It occurred on remote Socotra Island-part of Yemen, but closer to Somalia. I was in pain and without proper medical treatment for approximately a week's time. Two surgeries later my left shoulder is nearly as good as it was before, though I'm left with a gnarly scar. I'm still tossing around the idea of getting a tattoo to cover it-perhaps a wave of some sort symbolizing the incident.This accident was also the reason my shoulder is weakened and I was not able to climb the gate I describe in my 'hopping gates in Colombo' post.
I did manage to swim in the waters and encountered the one downside of the place...jelly fish. Lots of them. In Batticaloa we have jellyfish, but they're white and slimy and don't sting. In Arugam Bay they're purple and sting like what I imagine the fires of Hell to be. I should have known as luck would have it that I would get stung by one...what I did not anticipate is that I would get stung in four different places all simultaneous of each other. I must have swam right into a school of them and I could actually feel the tentacle wrap around my wrists and ankles like a whips. My reaction was to run like a Kenyan marathoner to the restaurant we were staying and ask for vinegar. When you get stung you're supposed to put anything acidic on it to neutralize the venom and I wanted it pronto.
So there I was, hopping and down in pain covered in sand and my hair looking reminiscent of Medusa. Apparently the surfers get stung a lot there because they all didn't seem too concerned with my pain. I was told to go rinse off at this little shack next to the restaurant before getting doused with vinegar. I quickly hopped over to the shack and a Sri Lankan surfer who had been watching the whole incident closely from the sidelines walked over to me and told me calmly that the best thing to do was to pee on my stings. I've heard of this and people always joke about it, so I laughed-until I realized that this was actually an offer of help. He stood there, eyebrows raised waiting for what my decision would be...as if I were going to hold out my wrists and say, oh yes please-fire away. I politely thanked him for his generous offer, but said I much preferred the vinegar. He just shrugged his shoulders as if to tell my, 'you're loss' and sauntered way.
Back at the restaurant the waiter I screamed at for vinegar was waiting with a bottle of red vinegar and lemons to rinse off the stings. I told him a beer would also be needed ASAP. As I sat pouring vingegar and lime juice all over my legs and arms the same surfer who had offered to pee on me returned. He looked disapprovingly at my beer telling me I should be smoking a joint instead. Again I declined his offer and this time he shook his head in disapproval and left-I did not see him again after that.
45 minutes and a liter of beer later the pain was subdued and was again able to enjoy the chilled out atmosphere that Arugam Bay has to offer. I met up later with the Batti crowd for relaxed conversation and dinner. It was a great crowd to spend the weekend with-two Germans, two Brits, a person from France and Holland along with my Canadian friend visiting from Beirut. I believe it will be these memories and not the pain of the jellyfish that I'll remember most.
