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Our search for HEC incident sites and access to the old trading port were hampered by the navy. While we had the blessing of the army, the main sites we needed to visit were not controlled by them. We waited around the guarded entrances and baked in the hot car while Major X tried to work things out with the navy officers. No luck. The village we wanted to visit to interview rural farmers was deemed too dangerous because of uncleared mines. And we didn’t have the proper letter to get access to the ancient port. Instead we travelled to other areas not necessarily related to elephants but were controlled by the army. We began at a devastated Portuguese fort in Mannar Town.

The army held their ground here during the conflict years while the LTTE held their line not far away in the thick jungle.

It is hard to tell if the bulk of the devastation comes from the recent war or from centuries of decay, but the empty ammo boxes and additional sand bag fortifications seems to indicate the recent battles against the Sea Tigers took its toll on the fort.

We began the day by visiting the Thiruketheeswaram temple, an ancient Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Siva tucked away behind the high officers quarters, and past a heavily guarded airstrip. Our timing was perfect. We expected to pass by and film an empty structure, but we arrived right as the morning ceremonies were starting. It was something out of a dream. In the midst of tremendous conflict, a small contingent of worshippers were keeping their tradition alive. It was mandatory to take off our shirts and shoes before we entered. After filming for some time, we were asked to join the devotees in the ceremony.

They began by walking the perimeter of the courtyard, stopping along the way to pay respects to the various Gods that line the walls, contained in their own individual shrines. As they walk the circumference, they stop to pay respect to the holy cow along the way.

A torch is carried along with them, and at certain points it is extinguished, and at other times it is re-lit. By the end, everyone gathers in the central chamber, driven by heavy methodical drumming and the smell of incense. Hands are passed over the flames coming from the torch. The milk of the holy cow is drunk from a golden cup, and the dot is placed on the forehead for divine sight. It ends with the devotees offering food and garlands to the holy cow. This completely unexpected stop was probably one of the more memorable ones.

Afterwards we filled up on an incredible Indian breakfast before heading back out to film. The majority of the day was spent waiting to be granted access by the navy. In the space in between we roamed the fishermen shacks and caused a scene with our cameras while Ravi and the Major looked for crabs for our last supper in Sri Lanka. The virgin mary appeared in many of the buildings since the fishermen are predominantly Catholic. Stray cats follow the strong smell of fish to look for any scraps that get discarded. We had our final meal of spicy crab curry outside the ancient Madhu Church, a centuries old center of worship for Sri Lankan Catholics.

Exhausted, we said our goodbyes to the SLWCS team, and took the roller coaster ride back to Colombo in the middle of the night to make our flight in the morning.

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.

It was the one day that the weather really mattered, and the rains came. We were going to leave from an airfield outside of Kandy, but morning rains in Colombo delayed the helicopter for a few hours, and we made the executive decision to scrap the aerial shoot. We made the best of the day and visited the sacred Temple of the Tooth, where the tooth of the Buddha is encased in a golden shrine.

Wars have been fought over this relic, and those who have control over it are said to be able to control the rain. Afterwards we drove to another Buddhist site in Dambulla. Beyond the newly built ridiculous Disney World entrance, a magnificent 2,500 year old cave temple was built into the side of a small mountain.

Centuries ago, monks began carving elaborate tunnels into the rocks, creating hundreds of statues of Buddha, mini-dagobas, and various Hindu Gods. The rock ceilings are intricately painted with scenes depicting the origins and evolution off Buddhism.

We took the road south to Colombo which comes as a shock to the system after spending three weeks in the wilderness.

The city is a worn out skeleton, blackened by thick smog and heavy foot traffic. Its an explosion when you’re still stuck in jungle time. Walls of used shoes, watches and clocks, cassette tapes, and cheap knock-offs.

AK-47′s hang from shoulders of military personnel on every corner shielded by steel barricades and stacks of sand bags. When you add the swarms of black crows overhead, you get something straight out of Hitchcock.

Here we prep for our helicopter shoot and excursion to Mannar, our final two objectives of the shoot.

We spent the morning traveling the Northwest Region around Puttalam, where we met HEC victims and learned about slash and burn cultivation. The disapproval of Department of Wildlife Conservation runs deep, with unfinished fencing projects and poor planning across the country.

Driving around, you are surrounded by white columns of smoke that hold up the sky, as farmers prepare the dry land for a new round of crops after their previous plots have been over-worked and depleted. Combined with population boom, land is being slashed down and burned faster the natural forests can replenish themselves. Both the poor farmers and the land are trapped in this vicious cycle of retreat and poverty. At the same time elephants are losing the habitats. With less and less wild to roam, elephants begin to raid home gardens and knock down houses in search of rive paddy. This is one of the worst areas for HEC.

There was the farmer who survived after being trampled while biking home late at night. There was the glossy eyed man in white who’s wife was killed by a rogue elephant. There was the mother of two who’s mud house was partially destroyed by a hungry elephant. There was the man who after helping a fallen elephant out of an agro-well, got run down as the spooked animal ran away. Then the man who was shot in the legs, bones shattered, by a trap gun after fleeing from a charging elephant. The list goes on and on.

As we traveled around to these rural homes, we were impressed by the great hospitality. When there isn’t much to offer, a cup of tea or a king coconut goes a long way.

After spending a few hours at the Millennium Orpanage, which is basically a retirement home for old elephants, we drove down the road to the most famous orphanage in Sri Lanka.

The Pinnewela orphanage is massive, with around 80 elephants that attract tourists from all over the world. Some have called it controversial because of claims that they are actively breeding elephants for profit. The advocates of the project claim that they need to generate money to continue taking care of the animals and keep them in good health. The baby elephants are the real money makers. If it wasn’t for the “feeding time” when two chained up baby elephants are fed in front of a massive crowd of people, it seems like most of the elephants there are pretty happy. The elephants have room to roam, and while much larger than a wild herd, the group integration somewhat mimics life in the wild.

The most memorable orphan was a teenager who had lost the bottom of his right front leg to a land mine.

We thought the three legged dog at the hotel was a sad story, but watching this massive animal hobble around on three legs was heart wrenching. It is unclear how long it can go on living like that; the good front leg is now bowed out from supporting so much weight and its back is twisted from being out of balance.

There have been recent success stories of elephants in similar situations who have been saved by the use of prosthetic limbs, but there are either no funds available to help this particular elephant or the keepers have decided to let it play out “naturally.” We packed up and headed to the Northwest to Puttalam where we’ll be filming more victims of HEC.

Before bed we finally chowed down on the long awaited crab curry that we have been promised for the past two weeks.

The long winding road through the Knuckles mountain range was rough after a night drinking Arrac with the SLWCS team.

Its been a while since I’ve been in a room with so many rowdy singing fools.

The party was a great way to finish our final day in a national park where we were lucky to run into another large herd during sunset.

We parked the truck and let them linger around us for a while, and then watched them disappear into the tall grass.

Bringing up the rear was a massive dark skinned bull who stood with eyes locked on us while the rest of his herd faded away.

We’ve arrived at the Millennium Elephant Orphanage, where there are about a dozen retired captive elephants on the grounds.

Visitors can come and watch the ele’s work with mahouts, touch the elephants, and even ride them. Here we’ll be filming the elephant-mahout relationships, a factory where they make repurposed elephant poop paper, and an American charity that teaches elephants how to paint.

The paintings are then sold internationally to raise awareness and money to support elephant conservation and well-being. It was surreal watching the mahouts and the artist mentor work together to guide the massive animal to manipulate a tiny brush. After the sessions, the elephants walked with paint smears across the faces back to the river to wash off.

Samantha promised we’d see elephants tonight, and he was right. We were pressed up against a crest of hot rocks, hoping that the protection bracelets the Buddhist monk tied to our wrists would actually work. We stopped the truck in between a herd of elephants and the watering hole that they wanted to get to.

The range of noises coming from the edge of the forest was astounding. Its pretty easy to tell when an elephant begins its charge through the thick forest. The trees above start to shake, and dead branches on the ground start snapping and popping. We watched an aggressive male toss 6 foot logs through the air, rip branches off trees and beat the ground with them, and take trunkfuls of long grass and whip them around furiously. They made a few bluff charges to keep us on our toes and once it got too dark we headed back to the field-house in the old Land Rover on an adrenaline high.

The Buddhists have a lot of stamina. The events started Sunday evening and lasted until the next afternoon. Monks and pilgrims forgo sleep for chanting and meditations. We fell asleep exhausted to the hypnotic sounds coming from the temple. The next morning we sweated in the mid-day inferno waiting for the arrival of the Minister of Local Government.

He rolled up deep with military, plain clothes security, and other officials. This is a momentous time for Ravi and his team. They are celebrating 10 years of successful projects, and forging new relationships with a recharged government. In between the tree plantings, speeches, and dancing, the Minister actually gave us a shout out for working with SLWCS. The seemingly random round of applause was actually directed at us as we later found out. By late afternoon, the official entourage had retreated to Colombo, and the villagers went back to their homes.

The long winding path through tea country down to Wasgamuwa took us through some stunning scenery, but back into a brick wall of heat just when we started to get used to the mountain air. Its hotter and more humid than I remember, and there are more bugs than I remember. Our bodies should hopefully adjust by tomorrow.

We’ll be based out of the SLWCS field station for the next few days, where we’ll be filming some more of their projects; Citrus cultivation, elephant alert systems, and electric fences.

The village and SLWCS is celebrating a 10 year anniversary of one of their more successful fencing projects while we’re here. The day ended in the strange sherbet colored light during an unsuccessful search for a rumored herd of elephants, as we got swallowed by massive storms clouds.

We retreated back to home base in the defender as the rain started to fall. There are over twenty people sleeping on cots at the field site, volunteers, engineers, SLWCS staff, and us. It was an interesting scene; engineers testing out remote night vision cameras, Brits, Sri Lankans, and Americans scooping curry and rice into their mouths in decorative plastic chairs, the kitchen staff cooking in black pots over open fire, and cats and dogs roaming around looking for scraps.