2nd Factory Day

I think after last night’s splurge on blog posts, I’m going to keep this one short. I walked down to the factory this morning – it’s about a ten minute walk from the house, on a road that first runs alongside the lake, and then divides at a roundabout with the big blue and white clocktower at the centre. Although it’s short, it’s a nice walk – it’s quite a peacefgul town, and on the far side of the lake there’s a big white temple that gleams in the sunlight across the serene water.

I joined in with the morning routine – singing little parts of the anthem, and participating with the dance. The girls in the packing line insisted I stand in front of them, primarily so they could laugh at me. They’re absolute devils.

I spent the day assembling more labels, memorising more names, and rehearsing more Sinhalese. I hadn’t had breakfast, as although I eat some seafood, I can’t deal with it when it’s very fishy. This morning I was presented with very fishy pancakes, and I’m afraid I left it. When the factory workers found out, everybody went into a panic trying to find food for me until I was told Mrs G had brought sandwiches for me and put them in the office. I popped off to eat them as quickly as I could and hurried back to packing to resume with label assembly.

I was feeling so much more awake today, which was a huge relief, and like yesterday I had plenty of visitors, and many more laughs shared with the workers. One man came over and started to speak to Tamhara, whilst holding her arm. When his back was turned, I whispered, ‘Your boy!?’. ‘No! No!’, she remonstrated. ‘He’s black boy!’. I was confused at first – I wasn’t sure if she’d said bad boy or black boy. Then Chamila pointed to the skin on her arm saying, ‘black, black!’. It’s true, he was darker than the others, but I hadn’t expected them to use it as a reason not to date a boy! They also explained that he was fat, so it looked like he was pregnant. None of this was said to his face, but there was so much sniggering that I think he might have realised we were talking about him. Poor chap.

I went back to the house for lunch and to freshen up a bit. I should perhaps try to spend some more time in the canteen, but it’s nice to have a proper break so that I can collect my thoughts. And I do get ridiculously hot in the factory. There’s a fan above our heads, but at times it just feels like it’s blowing more hot air at us, and I can feel myself perspiring.

After lunch, same again, and the girls and one of the boys took it in turns to write down their names in Sinhalese, encouraging me to then write it in English beneath. I had to guess at spellings, but I think I got it just about right. Rainuka, one of the Tamil girls in the line, refused to write her name, despite me saying with a smile that she could write it in Tamil, so instead Chamila wrote it for her. Rainuka had been shy yesterday, even with the Sinhalese girls, but this perhaps was due to my presence, as today she seemed chattier, and although I can’t understand the language, she seems able to converse with the Sinhalese girls.

At tea time, the girls all go to the canteen, but yesterday I went to the office instead. Today however I decided to join them in the canteen, and they were absolutely thrilled. They herded me on through amongst the throng of other workers all heading in the same direction, and we all found a table together, and sat sipping tea and dipping biscuits. Just as with morning routine, I felt like all eyes were on me, but thankfully, all of these eyes were also accompanied by big smiles, and curious whispers. I heard later from Dharma Sir that apparently all the girls had been really pleased that I joined them, and despite the managers offering me the private room to the side of the canteen where senior staff have tea, I declined and said I’d rather sit with the girls. It was mostly just packing girls from my line at the table, but Rainuka had gone to sit elsewhere so it was just the Sinhalese girls. I scanned quickly around the room, and I could see Muslim girls had mixed in with everyone else: they’re distinguishable because of the clothes they wear and the colourful headscarves. At some tables it was just boys, but some of the boys had mixed in with the women workers too. I still find it difficult to tell Tamil from Sinhalese, especially at a distance if I can’t see whether or not they have a talika or bindi. I’m going to keep going for tea in the canteen, as I think this is an important space to observe as the girls choose who they seat themselves with, rather than the production and packing lines where they do not choose who they are next to.

After tea, Chamila and Tamhara were chatting away to me – I say this as if we were in fluent conversation – far from it, but there were lots of moments today of prolonged interaction, involving a mixture of stunted language, hand gestures, drawings, facial expressions and laughter. They then proceeded to invite me to their houses. Although they live about 30km away, I think there’s a possibility that I’ll go to Chamila’s house on Sunday, when they should hopefully all have a day off. I’ll try to find out more about this tomorrow.

I walked home at the end of the day, mulling things over, and since then I’ve had a very careful think about the logistics of focus groups and participatory diagramming/mapping sessions. I’ve got a rough plan of action, which I’ll share with you tomorrow, but I think things are starting to take shape nicely.