I took upon myself to try to help a poor Sri Lankan man, living in a shack on his parents property. I was warned by other Sri Lankan friends in the hills, and by a monk in Matara, ten years ago that 20-25% of people in the south are bad. So, I had clues that it may turn out bad, by his previous small lies, but I figured I would put a limit and watch out. Cautiously stupid...to put it jokingly. To give him a chance to redeem himself, knowing that I would have spent the same amount on myself anyway in travel. I figured he would use it on his Trishaw loan anyway, regardless of what he told me, and I was aware of how much gas costs, and his low profit margin especially now when it was low season. His loan stills needs to be paid, and it is not like it was going in the wrong places...like drinking. It could be considered a tip, by me anyway, because I used him for three weeks. I won't go into details about what tipped me off about the driver, but several occasions quickly confirmed and I cut off all contact with him. I even have him a chance to redeem himself when I outlined why early on.
|Feeling Guilty because women do all the offerings, a Driver |
posed in this picture( not the one of the story)
Now, you would say why would involve yourself in drama? In a total reflective mindset, I think it came actually from childhood wanting approval from my alcoholic, depressed father. The trishaw driver and my father are not alike, but deep down I take these things on to make a difference...in someone's else's life. The driver has called, and texted many times over the last week, but I will not talk to him again, afraid of more lies. I gave him too many chances, but each time the real truth never appeared. And I hate playing this role, making it painful to see his texts. In comparison, I tried, but guess I really never forgave my father, because he never apologized for the hell he put us through as children with no way out. On a positive note, his life ended within one week of visiting me, many years ago, and we had resolved things enough to end well. I can still see him walking and talking after a dinner we shared, and he had some clue it may be his last with me by our last conversation and the way he carried himself.
I was trying to treat this whole situation like it was new, but there were tastes of it that smacked of unresolved issues. And always the clincher... expectations. Ironically, the first sign of lying was he started to call me "father," which sounded so insincere since his father was still alive. It could be from doing this trip alone, I wanted to make this feel less selfish. At least I can say that it was interesting and thus helped me prevent further loss. It enabled me to meet other people in this small town that did tell me the truth of land scams and various other incidences like how the hotel owner fooled a Thai businessman to get his beach property. It was a small price, yet painful, to pay for good information, and perhaps further unraveling of my past that I once thought was settled.