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Long ago, before the Portuguese, Dutch, or British ruled over Sri Lanka, Mannar Island was a busy trading port. From here the infamous Sri Lankan elephants of war were sent out to India, Greece, and Rome. Today, the area is in a much different place, and you’d be hard pressed to spot an elephant along the road out. We were granted special permission to visit the area, 7 years after it was liberated from the LTTE. While the major military offensive happened in 2002, it still feels like a war zone. We drove in through an afternoon fog, escorted by Major X. He sat shotgun and allowed us to pass through the waves of checkpoints without being hassled. He is young for a major, trained in Pakistan and wounded on the battlefield. He suffered two bullets from an enemy AK-47; one in the neck and one in the knee.

As we got deeper into Mannar District, passing vast areas of uncleared mine fields, we came upon the largest IDP camp in Sri Lanka. We were instructed to put our cameras away.
The camp goes on for kilometers, stretching from the road far off into the distance. 300,000 internally displaced people are living here, indefinitely until the government can clean up the areas where they came from. These settlements are much larger and more concentrated than the tsunami relief camps from 2004, and they come at an enormous cost. The President speaks about releasing more IDP’s by January, but the reality is that de-mining takes years. Time inside the camps hangs in limbo. Some of the detained are allowed to leave on a daily basis for work, and banks and supermarkets have been erected inside, creating an internally displaced economy.

We arrived after dark, escorted by a small security unit. Before filming we had to meet the Brigadier and some more of his subordinates. We waited around the officers canteen, drinking tea out of army issued tea sets. When he was ready for us, Ravi, Chandeep and I were escorted into his office. He was flanked by Major X, and two other officers wearing pristine white athletic clothes and high socks. We discussed the project and scanned the map to decide what areas we were allowed to film, where we needed special permission, and what sectors still needed to be de-mined. We settled up, shook hands, and headed to our government circuit bungalow.

Jon and I opted to try our luck sleeping out in the van, bundled up to avoid mosquitos, with a soldier sleeping in the cargo area behind us, listening to packs of dogs and donkeys in the darkness.

Tags: documentary, production, sri lanka