940002: Tangalle: an Illusion

S. M. Owens posted a photo:

Sri Lanka: Tangalle, Beach Scenic

I took this photo March 2001.
Unashamedly, this is a tourist brochure style image: an idyllic, deserted tropical beach: blue sky, blue sea, sunshine, and delightfully, a golden beach with palm trees. Looks like heaven….
This is one of the coves near the small town of Tangalle, in the far south of Sri Lanka. I’d walked there one morning from the guesthouse where I was staying in town, stopping off along the way to take photos – few could be so lucky. There was just me and the lizards – no tourist, and the local people must have been at home, avoiding the heat of the day. In this area, making rope from coconut fibre is a local cottage industry.
On the previous occasion I’d been in Tangalle, my hotelier told me that it wasn’t safe to go out at night. This was in March 92 when there was trouble hereabouts. The civil war with the Tamil Tigers, had led to the Indian Military Occupation in the north, and this in turn gave rise of the Nationalist JVP in the south.
When I visited Sri Lanka in 2005, it was my intention to go to Tangalle. However, because of the damage done by the Tsunami of Boxing Day 2004, I was advised that it would be wiser not to go.
So, the photo above was taken on the last occasion I visited Tangalle; the first occasion was in 1983.
In a rather round-and-about way, the point I’m making is that there is a considerable differences between the illusion of the image above and the reality.
Undoubtedly, to some people in cold, grey, northern countries, photographs of exotic tropical beaches in the developing world may appear romantically enticing. However, unfortunately, the fact is that many of these countries are unstable: possibly, blighted by political strife or war, and hit all too frequently by horrific natural disasters.
I’m not saying that all the countries are so, nor that they are, all the time, but things can change, both for the better or worse, very quickly.
Perhaps I should say that when I went to Sri Lanka, I knew full well what the general situation was, although not the exact specifics. There was only one occasion, in 92, when I left earlier than initially planned.
Today, we have social media – we didn’t in the 80’s or 90’s. The smaller world means that it is very easy to access news from places which were once considered distant or remote. Many national and local newspapers are available online, and many broadcasters now load their reports on to the web. If people don’t know what is going on, it is because they have chosen to ignore the information that is available.
Obviously, people can still be overtaken by circumstances beyond their control – the Tsunami was, hopefully, a once in a lifetime occurrence….
On a sunny Saturday morning, August 13th, 2005, I checked out of my hotel in Negombo. I was going to Colombo, and then to Hikkaduwa. When I got to the railway station in Negombo, it was closed. Very strange. So, I took a bus to Colombo. As the bus got nearer to the capital, I became increasingly aware that something was wrong. A security operation was underway, and, apart from the military, there were very few people on the streets.
The night before, at about 11 p.m., Sri Lanka’s foreign minister, Mr. Lakshman Kadirgamar was assassinated at his home in the south of Colombo. He was shot by a sniper; a despicable, cowardly act, blamed on the Tamil Tigers. Mr. Kadirgamar was a Tamil, and a Christian.
To say that I’m still dreadfully annoyed about this sounds so feeble, if not pathetic, although perhaps I’m no longer as angry. This incident, in all its gruesome horror, is just one of the reasons why pictures of deserted tropical beaches no longer look so alluring – the illusion is simply that: an illusion.
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The bus from Negombo was a former London Transport, Routemaster – I sat upstairs. At one checkpoint on the approach to Colombo, all the passengers had to get off to be checked – this wasn’t uncommon at the time, but nerve-racking for some.
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Photo and text:
© S. Owens
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