The Third Wave_ A Volunteer Story - Alison Thompson [60]
I scanned the crowd for potential trouble and saw that Buddy had gone missing. He had offered to shoot the game on my little video camera, assuring me that he had been the video guy at his church. What I didn’t know was that Buddy was a heavy drinker and had started boozing at breakfast. By now he was toast. I found him passed out under a tree, his mind dancing with mermaids, and I took over filming the game myself. Later, when we looked at his footage, we saw a lot of images of ground and sky.
It was a great game and both sides played well, while the civil war was put on hold for ninety minutes. The opposing Tamil team won 3–0, but I’d never been to a sporting event where I had wanted the other team to win more. Not because I didn’t think we would get out alive if we won, but simply because they needed it more. The Tamil team showed off their unrepressed excitement by screaming chants and holding the huge silver trophy Oscar had brought high in the air. Our losing Sinhalese players sat around in disappointment. But back on the bus, Oscar told them he was proud of them and spoke about its being a historic day for Sri Lanka with the two enemies coming together for one common reason.
We held a party for both teams back at our hotel in Jaffna. Oscar gave everyone Football Without Boundaries T-shirts to wear, and the spirit of unity continued on into the night as we all wore matching shirts and celebrated together. The Sinhalese sang traditional songs in their language and the Tamil sang songs back in their language. James, Oscar, and I looked at one another in sheer amazement, relishing the fact that we had pulled off this event without bloodshed. The Tamil terrorists and the Sri Lankan generals had held true to their word and stayed away.
The players started to get drunk, and the Tamil leaders thought it best to quit while we were ahead. As they left, they told us that they had never had a game or celebration like this in their lives. They were giddy with happiness. Now that the special day and night were over, they had to work out a way to sneak back across the borders without being captured. I blushed at the cute Tamil referee as he said good-bye, and watched him walk out of my life.
The next day, we woke up early and traveled by military escort to the large base where we would be playing the Sri Lankan Army team. The whole Army had turned out to watch. Thousands of the corps and engineers stood around the field in the roasting sun, while the commandos, generals, and other high-ranking officials sat under the trees in full uniform and maroon berets. The event was charming and civilized. We ate tiny tea sandwiches served by men wearing white gloves, a ritual left over from the British colonial days. With so many people watching the game, I wondered if anyone was left out there to fight the war.
From the moment the game began, it became apparent that we were the stronger team. By the second half, we were so far ahead that I walked over to Oscar and told him to take it easy so as not to embarrass our hosts. Oscar pulled some of the better players from the field and let the weaker ones have a go. Still, we won the game 5–0.
After the match, we met with more generals, and then were taken to a special holding area. It was a garden with a huge tree in the middle of it. I think they put us there to protect us until our plane left. We drank and ate to our hearts’ content and soon the players began break-dancing.
CHAPTER 12
Before Oscar and I had left for New York, my cousin Christine had given Chamilla $1,000 to start a communications center that sold fresh smoothies, which she called the Tsunami Juice Café. She used the money to buy a fax machine, blenders, and outdoor tables and chairs. Oscar and I were pleased to frequent the business when we returned to Peraliya, feeling happy for Chamilla’s new lease on life. I was on a tight budget, as always, living off small donations from my family and friends, so I couldn’t