THE TAXI TAKES me back from the airport all the way to Mahawa through a familiar landscape. As we pass through Kurunegala the road grows straighter with paddy fields and coconut groves stretching on either side. Sometimes scattered herds of cattle cross the road and the taxi slows down to let them pass. The sun is hot; the heat grows but not like in Doha. There, in a few seconds my clothes would be soaked through and through with perspiration, especially because the kitchen and the hall did not have airconditioning and that was where I spent most of my time working. I had only two sets of clothes which Bossa madam had given me for the whole six months that I was there. I would wear one set of garments which would soon be wringing wet. Then I would change them, wash and dry them and get into fresh clothes. This went on, it seemed interminably. And the heat was so unbearable. The house was like an oven during the day, but the nights were chill. In the desert the deadly poisonous snakes would be under the sand and you could tread on them. At night, when it was cold, they lay concealed.

My heart begins to grow lighter as the taxi speeds along. My companion is returning home from Saudi and we will share the expenses. She is returning to Kurunegala but she is kind enough to come all the way with me to see me home safely. She has brought many things with her—gifts for the family, things for the home. I have been able to save only a little money because I did not stay there long enough. I bought a saree for my mother which cost seven hundred and fifty rials. It was very expensive. I came to Colombo and bought a gift for loku mahathmaya, a pair of trousers and a shirt. If I had waited longer I too could have brought back many things. Perhaps I shall go back one day, so that I can earn more money.