Schadenfreude

“Do they know?” The question is asked in a sitting room in Colombo, the capital of Sri Lanka. My dad nods his head. Inwardly, Kieran and me shake ours. We don’t know about the conflict that shook our family’s homeland. This month, I’ve tried to redress some of that ignorance and discover what happened in the country and how the Tamil population, in particular, were affected.   Week 1 I’m away on school residential. In all honesty, I don’t want to go. It will take me away from Harriet and Kit. I haven’t spent a night away from home since he was born. I go out of a sense of duty. My form group are going and it’s the opportunity to build bonds; to show them that I’m not just a suit with a learning objective, but a jeans and jumper stand-up kind of guy. The coach trip gives me an opportunity to read. At home, reading is a challenge. Most of the books I read are for Kit. I now know Ten Little Fingers and Ten Little Toes off by heart. I do, however, set aside fifteen minutes ever...

  “Do they know?” My dad nods, “They know.” The thing is I don’t know. Not really.   *                                                                 *                                                          * The know in question is the conflict in Sri Lanka. At the time the question was asked, we’re in Sri Lanka. Tourists, I guess. It is 2017 and I’m there for the first time with Kieran and dad. A relative is...

Sunday August 29 th I get up early to begin my goal. 5am early. The morning is an invisibility cloak: with no one around, you’re protected from embarrassment. I don’t have the confidence to ride my bike to the park, so I push it the five minutes up the road. I pass a sole pedestrian, who gives me a pitiful he must have a puncture look . If only she knew. Other than two dog walkers up the other end, I’m the only one in the park. I mount my bike and wobble. I grip the handlebars tight like a rollercoaster. Fortunately, I stay on. I make my way up to the car park at the top and practise going in circles. I’m ok doing this up the gradient but feel as though the bike is running from me when I go down. I then attempt to cycle out of the gate, however I panic on approach. ‘It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than it is for Ryan to pass through an accessible exit.’ I push my bike home and have two showers to remove the sweat. Tuesday August 31 st I’m back at the...