A wild goose chase (1)
I had planned to visit the fish-market in Negombo later in the day, but first it was time to make a few phone calls. Reluctantly. The Sri Lankan phone system remined me of India back in ’85. At times the connection was so appaling that it had put me off ringing my contacts from the south coast — it was going to be hard enough from the Colombo area.
I dialled the number for the Department of Zoology at Colombo University. The line was constantly engaged. I tried another line which yielded no answer. Then, as I re-dialled once again, a voice cut in: “Please call locally!” Puzzled as to the sudden change in circumstances, I omitted the area code. After dialling the first few digits, I was rudely interrupted by another automated voice: “This number is no longer in use!” It must have been an old number. I appended a ‘2’. This time I got through, but not to the Department of Zoology.
“Wrong number!” a gruff male voice said.
I apologized and hung up. It had put me off trying again. It looked like I would just have to pay a visit to the department in person.
Next I dialled the commander’s number in Trincomalee. My worries about cross-country connections proved justified. Through the hiss of static I could make out a faint voice in the distance — there was no telling whether it was speaking English or Tamil.
“Hello?” I asked desperately, slowly:” HEL-LO? CAN-YOU-HEAR-ME?!”
There were more voices in the background like whispers in some ghostly ether. I had no idea whether they could hear me. I apologized sheepishly and hung up.
One possibility remained. Rob also knew Dr. J. I dialled his mobile. It was busy.
“God yes!” A said irritably, emerging from the shower: “I tried to make some calls earlier. The mobile network is hopelessly congested!”
After half a dozen attempts over the next hour or so, the congestion eased. This time, I got through. Or so I thought. I was met by a long silence, interupted only by the crackle of static, then a long continuous tone.
I tried Rob’s work number. After listening to a long diatribe in gobbledigook, a disembodied voice informed me that the area code had changed. “Please append ‘1’ after the original code”. I did. The same thing happened. I re-dialled Rob’s mobile number. It was busy. By now, I felt like crying. A turned around and looked over my shoulder at the numbers she had given me for Rob’s home and work.
“Oops.” She said.
It turned out she had transposed two of the digits, although that did not explain the puzzling instructions I had received over the line. She dialled Rob’s house, but Rob was away for the day. So I decided to join S and A on a trip to Colombo. They wanted to go shopping and I planned to pay a visit to the university campus, determined to make contact with somebody one way or another.
S and A don’t travel the hard way. We took a tuk-tuk to Negombo bus station and A ensured that there were seats for us in an air-conditioned minivan before we embarked. I ended up sitting right next to the driver just behind the windscreen. Visions of yesterday’s crash flashed before my eyes, but the driver was as safe as houses and did not even break the speed limit.
At the Department of Zoology I hoped to meet a Dr. W who, I had found out earlier, used to work with Dr. I. On that earlier visit, just after New Year, the department had been practically deserted, now there were students everywhere, emerging from lecture rooms and chatting excitedly in little groups. Clearly, the holidays were over.
Dr. W was not in his office, but one of his graduate students went off immediately to get him. I tried to stop him. “I do not have an appointment!” I cried: “He might be giving a lecture!”
“Don’t worry!” the guy shouted back over his shoulder. I shuddered to think what my husband’s reaction would be if he was called out of a lecture to met some unannounced visitor. I knew what mine was when sales reps interrupted me in the lab in the middle of an experiment. But Dr. W appeared easy-going when he came into his office about a quarter of an hour later. I apologized as I shook his hand:
“I have tried to phone you all this morning to arrange for an appointment. I did not seem to be able to get through.”
He laughed and waved his hand dismissivly.
“Ah, the switchboard is hopeless. These days we communicate by mobile or e-mail!”
It turned out that he worked on elephants, but he knew Dr. I well. He showed me an identification-guide to the whales and dolphins of Sri Lanka which she had published as part of an NMMP project and kept updated ever since. The latest edition dated from 2002. I was delighted as I had expected it to be long out of print and resolved to track down a copy. He then called her on his mobile. We arranged to meet at a lecture Dr. W would give that evening at the Sri Lankan Association for the Advancement of Sciences and which he invited me to attend. Success at last!
Tags: The Whales of Trincomalee, Tag Index
Denni