Dump deal

By Nilika de Silva

Industrialism has again trampled on a once thriving eco-system, the natural habitat of many bird species. And day by day, as chemical effluents steadily flow into this lake, the different life forms it harbours and the eco-system surrounding it fight a losing battle for survival. 

Today this waterway, located behind the Bata factory at Kandawala Road, Ratmalana, looks more like a sewage tank as it emits fumes strong enough to affect even the human beings around. "There is always a smell of oil," said Asoka Silva, who works at a nearby bicycle repair shop. "As for the chemical smell, it is unbearable." Children of the area are vulnerable to respiratory ailments, and residents complain that the situation is becoming worse. "Some action must be taken to protect us from this hazard," one resident said. 

But the Bata Shoe Company of Ceylon Limited maintains that the chemicals polluting the lake do not come from their premises. Personnel Manager Anton Silva assured, "There is absolutely no chemical substance going out from the company." 

Sometime ago, there was a problem regarding oil flowing out of industrial establishments in the vicinity of the lake, and the Municipality and the Safety Division of the Labour Department visited the site, Mr. Silva confirmed. 

Though many of the other factories also disclaim responsibility for the lake's polluted state, there is no denying that their effluents are discharged outside. Black water flows out of the pipes into the roadside drains beside the Sri Lanka Co-operative Steel Industries Society Limited; but workers shrug off the pollution saying, "It is only our overflow pipes which are coming out, the other pipes are within the premises."

The drains outside Amano Lanka Engineering Pvt. Ltd, were chalky white with a substance that flowed freely outside its parapet wall. "That substance in the drain comes from the adjoining confectionery factory," alleged Amano Factory Manager, Jagath Warnakula. "We have sent various letters to the Dehiwela-Mt. Lavinia Municipal Council and Public Health Inspector but still the trouble persists," he said.

Newton Balasuriya, Factory Manager of Little Lion Associates says they cannot afford an effluent treatment plant at present and have therefore made arrangements with the Municiplaity to clear their effluents.Meanwhile, oil from various garages where servicing of vehicles takes place also flows into the lake. Residents of the area and environmentalists continue to protest but their voices go unheeded. 

Seeing the need 

By Michelle Mandel 

It's a brave act, given that Gooneratne has just three percent of his daytime vision. The 62-year-old sees about a pinhole's worth of life through his dark brown eyes. 

But Gooneratne, a survivor of three serious heart attacks and two triple bypass surgeries, still has vision. Inner vision. Ideas on how to improve life, both in Washington County and in his native Sri Lanka. 

Locally, he has served as a role model for the visually impaired and persuaded Oregon officials to alter crosswalks at Aloha intersections. He has provided thousands of pairs of eyeglasses and homemade walking canes to Sri Lanka's blind. 

"Some people use blindness as an excuse," says Pat Macdonell, director of the Orientation and Career Centre at the Oregon Commission for the Blind in Southeast Portland. Oregon has 7,500 visually impaired residents.

"Not Jeff," says Macdonell. "He's a hustler. Helping others keeps him alive." Gooneratne, a retired car salesman, says that's true. He had considered suicide several times in 1986, the year the disease retinitis pigmentosis destroyed his peripheral vision. He couldn't work. He couldn't drive. He couldn't fathom life without sight. 

Finally, in 1987, he confronted his disability and sought help at the Oregon Commission for the Blind. 

"I'm not a big organization," says Gooneratne, placing the hot cup of tea on the coffee table. 

"But I'm pushy. And I'm persistent. I will not go down sleeping." 

Gooneratne and his second wife, Celine, awaken at 6 a.m. each day, five hours after they go to bed, though neither works. At least for pay. Celine, 49, is a volunteer at a Beaverton Montessori preschool, while Jeff putters about their three-bedroom, income-restricted apartment in Aloha. It's headquarters for Second Sight International, the nonprofit group he formed in 1993 to assist Sri Lanka's sight-impaired. 

Here he amasses used eyeglasses and cases that he collects from optometrists and from St. Matthew's Lutheran Church in Beaverton, where he and Celine attend. 

In Sri Lanka, Gooneratne says, volunteer technicians match the free glasses with thousands of needy eyes. A new pair of eyeglasses costs 2,000 to 10,000 rupees as much as five times what the average citizen earns monthly. 

Gooneratne also collects ski poles, which he transforms into walking canes, painted white with rubber-tipped ends in multiple sizes. They're not nearly as snazzy or convenient as the standard collapsible walking cane sold for $15 to $20 in the United States.

But compared with the free, flimsy one-size-fits-all canes offered by the Sri Lanka government, Gooneratne says his canes almost seem high-end. 

"A cane should come up to a person's sternum," he says. " That way, the tip of the cane will always be two strides ahead of where they are headed.'"

Changing the world, especially the Third World, takes more than a good idea, as Gooneratne soon learned, but he thinks that change, albeit small change, is possible with persistence. 

He points to 1992, when he convinced Sri Lanka's Parliament that the visually impaired should have front-row bus seats. Before, only clergy had that privilege. 

He points to 1989, when he twice persuaded the Oregon Department of Transportation to alter crosswalks on busy streets near his neighbourhood. He had one official cross the street blindfolded. 

"I wanted them to realize what a disabled person is up against," says Gooneratne. A concrete island in the crosswalk's centre prevented passage; the Transportation Department soon after altered the island.

He also got the state to post pedestrian crossing signs at an unmarked crosswalk along Tualatin Valley Highway around Southwest 178th Avenue. 

It tickles Gooneratne that he should become a role model, given his lengthy list of ailments and surgeries. He kiddingly calls himself the "Bionic Man." 

It saddens him, though, that it will be another year before he can scrape up the money for his next shipment. It costs $500, he says, to build a 5-foot-long crate and ship it to Sri Lanka. Beyond that, he needs $3,000 for two airline tickets, a heady amount considering the Gooneratnes live on his monthly $960 pension cheque. 

"I love to see people on the streets with my canes," he says with a grin. And he really can see people on the street with his canes - if he looks really, really close. "That's what makes me happy."

-The Oregonian

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