Over the last week, we have been exploring parts of Sri Lanka that we had not visited before. I was particularly keen to get to Jaffna, the Tamil town at the very northern tip of the island. Situated on a lagoon, the city is supposed to be very beautiful, even though it was badly damaged during the long civil war.Despite our best efforts, we could not get hotel accommodation anywhere except in a dubious guest-house. Clearly, many people wanted to visit a town that has been cut off from the rest of the country by years of heavy fighting. Indeed, Jaffna has been subjected to two sieges, the first one by the Indian peace keeping force that came to the island in the mid-eighties.

So off we set from the ancient temple city of Anaradhapura in the middle of the country. This is a vast complex of palaces, monasteries and enormous water tanks and reservoirs that was the seat of power for centuries. The hydrological skills of the early Sri Lankans is visible over much of the country in the shape of many man-made lakes that serve a complex system of irrigation canals.

The road to Jaffna is the famous A9 highway that was closed for years. Although it has recently been opened, it is a bone-rattling track glorified by the term ‘highway’. We had been told it would take us around six hours to get to Jaffna; in the event, after four hours of dusty and uncomfortable driving, we estimated we were at least another six hours away. Having had enough, we turned off at Vavunya for the coastal city of Trincomalee. This town boasts one of the finest natural harbours in the region, and has some stunning beaches. It is now the focal point for a flood of investment in new hotels. Trinco, as it is called locally, also saw its share of fighting in the 25-year civil war.

Wherever we went in the north and east of the country, we saw signs of militarization in the form of regimental and divisional commands, and more humble dugouts and observation posts. For miles, the forest had been cleared of trees by the roadside to provide troops with a clear field of fire. Army checkposts were everywhere. Above all, young soldiers who had scarcely begun to shave were on duty along the roads in their jungle green camouflage fatigues, carrying rifles that seemed too large for them. This country of around 20 million people has an army of 200,000, probably one of the highest ratios of civilians to soldiers anywhere in the world.

In these large swathes of Sri Lanka, there were very few people, houses or farms. Although many road-construction teams were busy, it will take years before this part of the country recovers from the ravages of war. In areas under their control, the Tamil separatists had neither the resources nor the inclination to invest in the infrastructure. All the money they could squeeze from local and diaspora Tamils went into financing their formidable war machine. Obviously, no private capital could or would be invested in a contested war zone. The result is that a large part of the north and east of the country is now behind the rest of Sri Lanka in terms of infrastructure. This is the cost hundreds of thousands of Tamils in the north and Muslims in the east have had to pay for the LTTE-led rebellion.

Oddly, a similar fault line was exposed by the recent presidential election. An analysis of the voting pattern reveals that an overwhelming number of the minorities voted for General Fonseka, the opposition candidate. But contrary to expectations, the majority Sinhalese vote was not equally split, and went instead to President Rajapakse. Thus, the incumbent won by an 18 per cent margin. There are now fears that their emphatic rejection of the president might cost the Tamils and Muslims dear in terms of much-needed development funds and budgetary allocations.

In the central highlands of Sri Lanka are spread vast tea plantations that account for around a billion dollars in exports. Established in the 19th century by the British from cuttings smuggled out of China, these hillside plantations are worked by mostly Tamil women. The forefathers of these ‘hill Tamils’ were brought here by the British from India’s southern state of Tamil Nadu as indentured labourers, and many died in the unaccustomed cold. The present tea pickers are mostly women who painstakingly pick tender leaves from the endless rows of tea shrubs.

The leaves are weighed, graded and dried in vast tea factories, from where they are exported to be carefully selected and blended. But while the owners and shareholders in these companies benefit, the ‘hill Tamils’ are exploited shamelessly. Many of them are little more than bonded labour, tied to their plantations by an extortionist system of loans.

One of these factories, aptly named The Tea Factory, has been converted into a hotel. Situated at 7,000 feet above sea level, the hotel provides guests with stunning views of fir trees and tea shrubs. In the morning, I was startled to see clouds below our room. The hotel was packed with tourists who were given tours of the tea estate attached to the factory.

Wherever I have gone to in Sri Lanka, I have seen armies of road workers and vast numbers of construction machines. There is currently a huge road construction programme under way. In our part of the island, the network has visibly improved. Apart from his victory over the Tamil Tigers, upgrading the country’s infrastructure will be another part of President Rajapakse’s legacy.

Given the large influx of foreign tourists that has followed the end of the civil war last May, a decent road network is essential to the country’s economic wellbeing. However, if Sri Lanka is to achieve its true potential, a political reconciliation between the majority and minority sections of the population is essential. After his landslide victory, Rajapakse announced that he was now president of all Sri Lankans, even though many had not voted for him. It now remains to be seen if he will prove true to his word, and focuses his undeniable energy to the development of the north and east, and lifts the Tamils out of their poverty and demoralisation.

Tailpiece: It was just as well we did not try to get to Jaffna: a friend informed us later that we would have needed clearance from the Ministry of Defence, something I had been blissfully unaware of. He had waited two days in vain to get his clearance.