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Nicholas Batter '08 is developing and implementing a nutrition program in a refugee school in eastern Sri Lanka, which has been flooded by new refugees after the 2004 tsunami. June 14 | June 21 | July 16 | July 26 | August 6 | August 10 | August 14 | August 19 | September 2 Most Recent Entry:
I pushed through my fever and we had to use Ruwan's family van for the drive since we can't find a driver willing to risk going east. The US State Department has issued a warning for the entire east coast and most NGOs have pulled out of the area. However, with most of my team safely home in America, I'm willing to take the risk to go out. It's the most critical time to be there as the need has never been greater. Violence is getting worse everyday as breakaway paramilitary factions make peace brokering increasingly difficult. The peace monitors have even temporarily pulled out. The drive east was uneventful, and we were welcomed into Vallaichennai with the thunder of artillery fire. The area is freckled with pockets of Tiger controlled jungle and the breakaway Karuna faction has moved into Vallaichennai and blended with the population (since they are all plainclothed soldiers from the area, its very easily accomplished). Bureaocracy is still our biggest burden. The road to Alamkulam is blocked by a military checkpoint and large rocks. Alamkulam is now considered an "uncleared area," meaning it is not within the control of the Sri Lankan government, although the school is run under the auspices of the Sri Lankan educational system.
Everything was uphill from there, as the Captain in charge of all the bases in the area was extremely friendly and happy to offer his help to us. He cautioned us about the dangers, but we emphasized the importance of our work and he signed off on our letter from the zonal director. Finally we had adequate clearance (and connections) to get us into our school. The timing was great. The day we arrived was the first day of school, so all the children were there wearing
Some of the teachers needed rides even farther than Batticaloa, so we had quite a car ride to take them home. I can't imagine what it would be like to have to walk and take a bus that distance both ways every day -- the teachers are so dedicated. They have told me that if I was able to build a small structure on the school property for housing them during the school week, it would make things much easier for them. I have talked with the principal about this. We expect to have extra funding after the kitchen is completed, so we hope this can be a reality sometime in the next month or so. During the night, the fighting is at its peak. The sound and flash of artillery became accepted background noise, and the occasional pops of small arms fire was nothing out of the ordinary. One night I kept waking up thinking a huge truck was rumbling by. As it turns out, it was a mobile mounted The next day after work we went out to Calcudda, which I visited a few weeks prior before my team had left. Some fishermen pulled up and gave us a ride out into the Bay of Bengal as they went to lay their deep water nets. It was great to see the fishing industry slowly recovering in the area as it was entirely wiped out after the tsunami. We layed a huge thousand foot trolling net out of the small boat. As the sun set, the artillery began again. From our left, the south, we could hear the boom of artillery cannons firing at their distant targets. Minutes later, smoke rolled out of the rebel-held jungle to our north where the shells had hit down. Stray shells are a massive problems. Since most of the rebels fire their artillery from mobile guns, and the government attempts to hit these mobile targets, both sides are frequently off target. Gutted, charred buildings -- the remnants of homes, schools, stores, and temples -- are a testament to these deadly errors.
After our goodbyes, we drove back to Vallaichennai to make sure everything as in place for construction. We met again with the superintendant and the army captain to emphasize the urgency of the work and to secure their support. They renewed their commitment, and with that we were on our way west on the long road to the airport. Within hours, the sight of armed soldiers and landmine warnings became less and less frequent. I am disappointed that we couldn't see the entire construction through to completion, but as I sat on my long flight back to America , I was happy that everything I set out to accomplish this summer will soon be a reality. Most NGOs had pulled out of the area weeks before we came in. When we first arrived, the checkpoint guard said "everyone is leaving, you're the only people coming in." Right now, even the Red Cross and United Nations are considering leaving the area. Hopefully they will decide against it, as the coming months are pivotal for the future of Sri Lanka. As the major fighting groups break up into militant splinters, the country's east coast is slipping into anarchy. For me, it is a place where I have dozens of close friends. For me, visiting during the thick of war was just a temporary stay. In a little over a week I will eating salad in Dunster's huge dining hall without a concern in the world. My friends in Vallaichennai, their families, the students in Alamkulam -- these are people who must live with the reality each day. I feel guilty coming home with so much that could be done, but I take comfort in the fact that we were at least able to film the entire experience and the experience we have brought back with us can be used to accomplish even more work in the future. In the meantime, fixing my sleep schedule, wrapping up the project on this end, and responding to hundreds of important emails has become a fulltime job. I am in constant contact with the people on the ground and ensuring that construction back in Alamkulam is continuing steadily.
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I met with the zonal director of schools for the region who remembered my work from last year and offered to help in any way possible. We started by getting a letter from him granting us permission to assess the situation in the school. However, the soldiers at the checkpoint didn't accept the letter (and couldn't read it, as it was written in English). We had to get a military escort to a nearby base and after a while of negotiating with them, they deferred us even farther up the food chain, saying we would need clearance from the ranking officer for the area. We drove halfway back to Vallaichennai, driving up to the main army camp. It was intimidating walking up to the gates past multiple rows of curled razorwire and hidden minefeilds on either side of the driveway. Ruwan talked to the gate guard and we were cautiously brought inside. 
their uniforms. However, some of the teachers of the school had faced the same travel problems as us -- since some commute as far as 90km each way, road closings mean many teachers get stuck en route to school. Also, the shifting borders between the government and LTTE have prevented dozens of students from getting to the rural school. These problems aside, the school looked amazing. It was envigorating to see the classrooms I built last year being used. We handed out school supplies to all the kids and used a polaroid camera to take class photos to give to each teacher. We then sat down with the teachers in charge of the planned kitchen and begin making plans. I drew up rough blueprints as they told us exactly what they would like to have. We planned out a special exterior overhang for washing dishes and storing firewood (and keeping it dry during the monsoon season), and a window for serving the meals into a cafeteria area. 
We offered all the teachers rides home in our van after school and took the discussed ideas to a government engineer to draw up the official plans. We had to go through extra hoops to clear supplies for entry as arms smuggling is a massive problem through the rebel/government borders. Again we went to both the zonal director of education and the captain of the army to get clearance for both of these. 
multigun firing rockets just two blocks away. We were also told by a neighbor that the Tamil Tigers had tried to stage an ambush on an army convoy in the lot adjacent to the home we were staying in, but had to leave because the convoy didn't arrive when expected. I went up to the roof of the house to watch the fireworks of war when I heard some leaves crunching. When I walked over, looking into the dark lot, I clearly saw a lone soldier, in full camo, running at full speed while crouching cautiously, holding either a large rifle by a handle or a briefcase. He disappeared out of the moonlight into the shadows of the palm trees and I hit the deck, not wanting to be confused for an enemy sniper. 
That night we stayed with our friends at Jeeva Jothy, an orphanage near the Batticaloa hospital. The road to Batti is dangerous at night, so we hurried to our van as soon as our boat pulled ashore. We arrived after dark, but spent a long time playing games with the kids. That night, the day before my flight home, we all piled into the bunker to sleep. I slept on a straw mat on the sand with scores of orphans under the thick concrete and steel ceiling of the bunker, drifting to sleep while cannons fired.