Mirissa buying ganja

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Mirissa buying ganja

It was a typical morning in Sri Lanka. This time it sounded like the neighbours were starting up a house-party at what I can only assume was 6am as the sunlight was only just starting to stream into our room through the cracks around the wooden door. Travel really does take it out of you and today we would be moving on from Hiriketiya to our next location: a beach town called Mirissa. I had heard lots of wonderful things about Mirissa. From the photographs I swooned at online to the numerous blog posts I soaked up, Mirissa seemed like the perfect beach destination, framed by lush palm trees and specked with tasty beach bars. Could it really be as nice as Hiriketiya beach? I knew it was going to be a lot larger in size and probably have a couple more people on but I expected it to still be relatively quiet. We managed to get some interrupted kip after the house-party next door began and woke up prepared to buy some breakfast from the little store right across from the house. We had briefly stopped off at the store the day before, on our way back form the beach. These cookies are advertised everywhere in Sri Lanka so we were really keen to give them a go and they did not disappoint! Not too sweet and with a hint of coconut, they were good cookies indeed. I quickly got dressed and threw on my flip-flops. My stomach was growling impatiently. But as I flung open the front door, I gasped in horror. The store was closed. It was a tragic sight. I guess they would have to do as our breakfast. Hawaiian Cookies and ginger-infused tea which was super spicy! Now we just needed to wait for our taxi to arrive which we had ordered the night before. We waited. And waited. We had expected that the taxi may get slightly lost as we had got hopelessly lost arriving yesterday. We knew what vehicle he was arriving in so would have noticed his passing. The minutes rolled on. After no less than an hour of waiting, we received news that the taxi driver had somehow ended up at the beach and began to navigate him to our location. There he was! We were delighted as the minibus taxi appeared from the track down to the beach. We were just glad he was here now and we could commence our journey to Mirissa. The drive to Mirissa from Hiriketiya took roughly an hour. Our AirBnB in Mirissa was only a 5 minute walk from the beach, making it an ideal location. Of course, after arriving, the only thing on my mind was food so we dropped off our bags in our room before heading out for some lunch. He showed us some directions on his map and advised us it was only a short 10 minute walk from our accommodation. So off we went! Maybe I took a wrong turn? We were wandering around streets lined with houses for what felt like forever. My feet were squelching in my mud-filled flip-flops and our legs were splattered with dirt that was kicked up by passing tuk-tuks. The humid air threatened to steal the breath out of my lungs and my hair was poofing up, trebling in size. Even the cows wondering around the houses stopped to stare at my giant, frizzy hairdo. As soon as we reached a main road, we hailed a tuk-tuk and using the tonnes of advice I had encountered online, I haggled profusely, not even knowing exactly what prices they were offering. This was actually the first time we were taking a tuk-tuk, after already being in Sri Lanka a week. This was the first short journey we were taking. I excitedly clambered into the vibrant blue tuk-tuk, unable to wipe the beaming smile off my face. We were finally in a tuk-tuk! I felt like one of my life-long dreams was being achieved. I felt rather lazy when I first hailed the tuk-tuk. Honestly, I was so relieved we decided to hitch a ride as I would not have been able to find the restaurant. The tuk-tuk was weaving down lots of narrow back-alleys, splashing through deep puddles and pot-holes in the sand-coated tracks. Finally we made it. We were down a tiny alley somewhere at the back of town. Amongst residential houses was a little restaurant. The No1 Roti. But as Lewis and I walked inside the hidden oasis, we had no idea what delights lay ahead of us on the menu. Reviews allover the internet sing its praises and its even made a feature in the Lonley planet guide to Sri Lanka. It is made from stoneground wholemeal flower and water, mixed together to form a dough. As you can probably guess, in this dish the rotti is chopped, along with other ingredients such as vegetables, chicken, egg and cheese. The dish is prepared on a heated iron sheet and is chopped and mixed using blunt metal blades. The blades beat rhythmically, making an iconic sound. I could barely contain my excitement as I heart the kottu being prepared. The clashing of blades echoed around the restaurant. I had ordered the chicken, vegetable, cheese and egg kottu. Lewis and I would be sharing it. I am no vegetable lover. The smell was so inciting. We drizzled sauce over our meal before we finally dug in. It tasted like heaven. I had never tasted anything so good. Well, it was probably the optimum level. Vegetables had never tasted so good. The whole dish was exquisite. I would even go as far as to rank it in my top 5 dishes of all time and man am I once tough cookie to please! After polishing off the heavenly kottu, we ordered a chocolate-filled roti for dessert. That too was something beautiful. I can see why the No. It really does live up to its name. Bellies comfortably full, it was time for us to grab a tuk-tuk and return to our AirBnB for some down time. We were determined to walk this time and certain that we had in fact taken a wrong turn on our last excursion. Indeed, it took a fraction of the time to reach the main road where we had previously hailed a tuk-tuk. I was surprised at how difficult it was to actually locate Mirissa beach. I knew it was meant to be on our right. Google maps was making that clear. However shops and restaurants lined the side of the road, obscuring any views of the beach there may be. Most of the buildings were practically strapped together, meaning there were few alleyways leading down in the direction of the beach. Eventually I spied a dark corridor, narrowly opening in between two large buildings. Could that be an opening to the beach? It looked exactly like the spot your parents told you never to travel down. A damp sand track obscured by shadows and dotted with litter and other debris. I felt on edge and part of me was telling me to avoid. However, curiosity always seems to get the better of me and as soon as we were greeted with a gap in the stream of busy traffic, we made our way across the road to the alleyway. I cautiously skirted muddy puddles, conscious of the fact that I was only in flimsy footwear. I allowed the darkness to engulf me as I stepped deeper into the alley, Lewis at my side. The track veered to the left, still enclosed by looming concrete walls, paint flaking her and there. However, up ahead the light was brighter and I noticed a lonely palm swaying beside a yellow wall. We emerged onto the the sands of Mirissa beach beside the morbid remains of what was once the Paragon Beach Resort. Rubble was strewn across the beach, some trailing into the ocean. We were weavings between glass, shards of metal and broken slabs of concrete. It was a far cry from what I had been expecting to find in Mirissa. The promise of golden sands in a peaceful paradise was nothing more than a dream. I was walking through carnage, standing in the wake of what was a giant bulldozing session. As we stepped into the main beach, I looked at the beachfront in dismay. All along the arc of Mirissa beach was yet more destruction. Mounds of rubble were everywhere. It was like we were standing in hell. I was too horrified to actually take any photos. So what exactly was going on? They had been apparently harassing tourists and acting in an aggressive way. The final straw for the illegal bars of Mirissa was an attack which occurred in April, a month before our arrival in the island. Dutch tourists were brutally attacked in a case said to be sexually motivated. The sexual harassment was carried out by staff at the restaurant the were visiting and it escalated to the point where two tourist was horrifically beaten. The government had had enough at this point and ordered the demolition of all illegal bars and restaurants in Mirissa. Over police officers and armed soldiers stormed Mirissa and took action. In total, 21 buildings were demolished , leaving the waste I was witnessing today. It made me so mad that no one had bothered to clean up this mess and it had been left to sit and rot for weeks. Now it was little more than fish food and more tangles of wires for sea turtles to get caught up in. It would have been far better for the government to have organised a big clean-up operation instead of just causing havoc. Another reason why I am suspicious of the motives behind the demolition is due to the fact that many large resorts had been keen to take up position along the Mirissa beach front. Could money have therefore been the key reason for this destruction? That makes sense. Removing the illegal bars will help prevent a negative experience for tourists and also allow room for big-boy hotels to move in and bring more tourism into the area. There were reports of demolition beginning with people still in the buildings. There was little concern for their wellbeing during the ordeal. It was a quiet dinner as we were both very much in shock and rather exhausted from our walk. After having such an incredible lunch at the No. Most items on the menu were westernised. I suppose I can only conclude that Mirissa is more of a touristy area and therefore less authentic. Our entertainment for the evening was a litter of energetic puppies, playfully tumbling over in the sand. It was adorable to sit and watch them! It had been a day of conflicting emotions which left us both pretty warn-out. Plus, we really are not walkers! Thank goodness we had air-conditioning that night! It was our first experience with air-con for the whole Sri Lanka trip so far. As well as keeping us cool, it would do a wonderful job of drowning out the noises of the night! This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed. The boarded-up shop opposite our villa Me looking very hungry and unimpressed It was a tragic sight. Lewis and I both exchanged exhausted glances, the kind of glances that whisper defeat. He nodded. As expected, there were several rotis on the menu. As we stepped into the light, I nearly gasped at what I saw.

Falling for Rotis but Having my Heart Broken by Beaches in Mirissa

Mirissa buying ganja

By Zinara Rathnayake. One weekend about a year ago in Balangoda, a misty mountain town outside Colombo, the Sri Lankan capital, Sanjana was supposed to meet a dealer she found on Thriloka Wijaya Pathra , a Facebook group for cannabis users in Sri Lanka. Like many strangers who had connected over Facebook, Sanjana had decided to buy a few joints of ganja a local word for weed. A few days later, another group member told Sanjana that police caught her dealer. Perhaps he was released after a fine. Perhaps he went behind the bars. Plus my boyfriend works in the police. Cannabis has a complicated history in the island nation. While native medicinal practitioners used cannabis to treat illnesses in the past, a law introduced in under British colonial rule criminalized cannabis. Despite these laws, cannabis is the most-used illicit drug in Sri Lanka , with an estimated , users ; natural scientist Wasantha Sena Weliange believes that number is much higher. In recent years, cannabis has become extremely popular with Gen Z. Buwanka, 25, is an Instagram influencer in Colombo who despised cannabis as a schoolkid. My parents fed me the same mentality. But things changed when he left for college in Adelaide, Australia. Thousands of miles away from his Sri Lankan home, he began to feel lonely. When his roommate gave him ganja, he gave it a try. I started going out and joining all the cool events in the city. They are more confident in sharing what they want on social media. When Sanjana joined Thriloka Wijaya Pathra two years ago, there were only a few thousand members — now there are over , The group, which takes its name from the Sanskrit for cannabis, provides a platform for cannabis users to get together and share information: different uses of cannabis, medicinal qualities, details on how to roll a joint, etc. Members post pictures of their cannabis plants in tiny pots grown in secret inside their houses. And of course there are memes and TikTok videos. Anil, 19, smokes weed in Ja-Ela, a town just a few miles north of Colombo. He started smoking at 15 with his rugby teammates. In Sri Lanka, police often raid cannabis plantations , destroy them, and put traditional growers behind bars. This leads to a shortage of fresh, local weed. He receives goods from several others. While his customers come from all walks of life, Dinesh said that most of them are teens. Dinesh agrees that teens are aware of the harmful substances in chemically treated KG. Although a March announcement on the Thriloka Wijaya Pathra group asks members to not talk about KG, a June post from a member asks his fellow smokers what they prefer, KG or local ganja. Most users wrote KG. A handful of them said they use KG since local ganja is hard to find. Sanjana agreed. Sanjana, who has smoked KG, believes that Facebook groups like Thriloka Wijaya Pathra play a key role in educating smokers. When Sanjana initially joined, she saw a series of Facebook posts about cannabis. When Buwanka posted an IGTV video about cannabis and why it should be legalized in Sri Lanka about eight months ago, it caught attention. It was when cannabis community groups on Facebook shared it that he received a roaring response. There were , views on popular Facebook pages like Weedboy. Comments poured in. Buwanka said it was because he spoke in a local language, Sinhala. I needed to do something that everyone could understand. Most Facebook users are young. Over a third of them are under Can someone send me some ganja? These groups have connected the cannabis community with one another, giving smokers a chance to share details outside the groups. Buwanka said that members chat on Messenger and share supplier details. During holidays, Sanjana smokes a few joints with her year-old cousin; they post about cannabis on Thriloka Wijaya Pathra and share photos. Everyone can use it. Sanjana thinks that Facebook helps change how people think. While young smokers are finding community on Facebook, year-old natural scientist Wasantha Sena Weliange, who is fighting to legalize cannabis in Sri Lanka, runs his own Facebook group to support generational cannabis farmers. Weliange, who wrote a Sinhala-language book about cannabis, is now building a hemp museum and a cannabis village in Thanamalvila in the southeast of the country. They are happy to see this. They are curious. Weliange believes that legalizing cannabis will not only help farmers, but also prevent young people from using chemically processed KG and other harmful substances. This also resonated with Buwanka. But both Gen Z and older generations are still using it, and frequenting Facebook to meet each other. Meanwhile, Anil still believes he can identify good KG, while Janith says friends make brownies when they get together. Skip to main content The Verge The Verge logo. The Verge homepage. The Verge The Verge logo. Menu Expand. Share this story. Illustration by Ari Liloan for The Verge. Most Popular. From our sponsor. Advertiser Content From. More from Policy.

Mirissa buying ganja