Returning to ‘Paradise’

By Srilal Miththapala

The senior purser of the Malaysian Airways flight MH 148 from Melbourne to Kuala Lumpur was most concerned. “How is the situation in Sri Lanka? What a shame this had to happen. Such a lovely country,” she said, when she learned that I was en-route to Sri Lanka, after almost three months in my ‘part-time’ adopted second home Melbourne.  

It was with a heavy heart that I was returning this time, having read and watched in horror as the events of 4/21 unfolded on all the media channels. I has been glued to the TV and social media for days on end, with lengthy telephone calls to colleagues back home, gathering all the news that was coming out of Sri Lanka. 

The other cabin crew in the galley also joined in the conversation, and it touched me that at 36,500 ft up in the skies, on this Airbus 330-300, there were people genuinely concerned about Sri Lanka and what we were going through. Everyone I met were so supportive. 

I watched the sun set across the Indian Ocean from my window, painting the horizon in a sea of orange, silhouetted by eerie shaped clouds, while the dull hum of the massive Rolls Royce engines lulled me to a state of lazy tranquillity.  

But my mind kept wandering back to Sri Lanka. I was sad that after such a stupendous period of growth, and being identified as one of the safest and best places to visit, Sri Lanka tourism will now sink to an all-time low. We would have to get back to the old days of heightened awareness, being alert, suspicious and cautious, which does not gel at all well with the leisure and hospitality environment. It would certainly take an enormous united effort to get tourism back on track. 

From what I had been reading, the signals emanating from the state administration was not giving any confidence to the public and the world in general, with various fractions trying to capitalise on this sad and unfortunate incidents for narrow political gain. I could not but help think of the admirable leadership given by the New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern after the attacks in Christchurch. 

Being in Australia when this happened, I was exposed to 24-hour coverage of what was going on there. I watched how she was the ‘face of New Zealand’, being out there at every press conference, taking responsibility and making decisive decisions, being strong and yet compassionate, backed by one united nation. And all this by someone who had worked in a soup kitchen in New York City and part time DJ. 

I only could feel sad for my country, truly blessed with such a rich biodiversity and natural wonders, but ill-fated to be ruled by unscrupulous selfish individuals, with no love for their country.  

With these thoughts drifting through my mind, punctuated by short periods of uneasy sleep, and a movie I cannot even remember, after some eight hours, we were ready to land. The crew wished me a safe journey as I embarked at KL, and I hurried to change terminals and catch my flight to Colombo.

A quick refreshing wash and a change of clothes at the lounge, and I was at the gate to board MH 179 to Colombo. I was eager to see how full the flight would be, as all reports indicated that arrivals were fast dwindling. It was a Boeing 737-800 aircraft, with a 16/144 business/economy seat configuration. 

I was pleasantly surprised to see a good number of people waiting to board the fight. The flight attendants told me that the load factor was only about 50% which meant that there would have been about 80 people on the flight. I figured that about half were foreigners comprising mainly Asians and about 15 Westerners. So I was somewhat relieved to see so many fellow passengers, as I had been imagining an empty, ghost aircraft flying to Colombo, which on normal days is full to the brim.

The chirpy Captain (“Good evening ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome aboard”) could not raise my spirits. I had to resort to another kind of spirit (a stiff shot of Glen Livet) and a tasty Malay satay, to help me go into a much-needed deep slumber, until I heard the ‘fasten your seat belt’ call, and we were ready to land at Colombo. As I disembarked, I was again rather surprised to see that the boarding gates were not really empty. There were quite a few people waiting to board aircraft at the gates. But then again at 11 p.m. in the night the airport is usually bursting at its seam. And it was all people leaving Sri Lanka. Not arriving.

I was one of the first off the aircraft, and was greeted by a bevy of emigration officers, almost glad to see a passenger. The emigration counters were deserted. We briefly chatted about how busy the airport would normally be during this time and how bad the situation was. Still all of them were positive and full of hope that the situation would soon return to normal. There were heavily armed personal in camouflage attire at several points.  

I collected a trolley, and retrieved my two bags from the carousal and walked out, somewhat with a slight spring in my step, having been buoyed by seeing the attitude and hopes of those working there. The airport was functioning normally, with a professional calmness, albeit at a very low level of passenger traffic.  

But as I walked out of the airport all my high spirits went crashing out of the door, quite literally.  The drive up area was deserted, with only few stragglers around. I had prior intimation that vehicles would not be permitted to enter the airport. Only the airport taxis were allowed in (How come? And they were making a killing with a total monopoly for this service). I also knew that you had to take your trolley to a specific pick up point, some distance away from the main airport building. 

But what I had not bargained for was the sheer lack of signage nor facility to take the trolley to the pickup point. Try moving a trolley laden with some 35+ kg along an unpaved, rutty road, pockmarked with stones for about 250 m? It is no joke. Once you manage to reach the exit gate, you have to leave the trolley and carry your 35+ kg bags another 50 m or so. 

Even if you have rollers on your bags forget it. You will need wheels, with heavy duty shock absorbers to negotiate that 50 m of gravel stone-filled pavement. You then arrive into a cauldron of touts and cars on the main Minuwangoda road, with bumper to bumper traffic. Mayhem of the first degree! I called up my driver, and with some convoluted acrobatics, got my bags into the boot to a virtually moving car (If you are lucky enough, as there is no place to stop and pick up passengers there).

My emotions were that of anger, frustration and great disappointment. Whatever the crisis, whatever the security measures that are warranted, the sheer indifference to the public and visitors (who at this juncture are so precious that they must be treated like ‘gold’) was just unbelievable. What thought has been given to arriving passenger comfort and service? What do old people do, who cannot carry their own luggage? What if it rains? You are totally exposed to the elements out there. 

It just encapsulated what was wrong with the whole countries’ establishment and administration – lack of coordination, no awareness of the priorities, and sheer indifference. 

Surely how difficult is it to set up some good signage and information boards? How difficult would it be to construct a wooden walkway for wheeling the trolleys along? How difficult would it be just to paint some footsteps in bright colour along the path to indicate where you should go? How difficult would it be to make a small temporary clearing by the side of the road to allow a few vehicles to park and pick up passengers? How difficult would it be to have some light weight plastic covered roofing to shelter people along the route? How difficult would it be to have three or four police officers to control traffic on the road? All simple solutions which will at least ease the problems somewhat. Not rocket science.

So I returned to my paradise isle in ‘one piece’ eventually. All the smiling faces that welcomed me at the airport, all the wishes by a fight crew I never had set eyes on before, all the hope I had built up, has by now slowly evaporated as I silently contemplate what has happened to my paradise. 

(Post script: After I arrived, I alerted all the relevant authorities concerned about the inconvenience at the airport and I have been informed that some urgent action will be taken in the next few days to address these issues. I am told that a shuttle bus has been already provided to ferry passengers to the pickup point)