March 8, 2008 (Trincomalee). At the entrance to the public market at Anuradapura Junction, a woman was handing out flyers for a meeting to pray for peace in the region. "There are meetings, but still not peace," remarked one young woman entering the market on Saturday morning.

Just over half of the stalls in the 10-month old market structure, a project of the United State Agency for International Development (USAID) were open. As at any market in the world, the loudest vendors appeared to be getting the most business.

Nazeer, a bald man with a bright blue sarong, is one of these. He shouts the details of his inventory to the twenty-odd shoppers who are working their way along the rows. Nazeer has been working at the Anuradapura Junction market for over 20 years. He lives nearby and this has always been his market. But he has seen changes over the years. "Before I was getting a good income from the people. Now I get less," he says. "People have gone somewhere else to live because of the situation."

"Before" and "the situation" come up all the time in Trinco; the shorthand code words for talking about the reasons this district is struggling to rebuild economic strength and reweave its social fabric.

"Before" means before the army came to flush out the LTTE in 2006. Then the LTTE was even here - before the April 2006 bombing at the central market, before the tsunami. For some veteran vendors who have been carting vegetables to this market for decades, there are many "befores" and afters.

"The situation" is more specific. They are referring to the war. Trincomalee town, now a safe distance from the front lines, is still facing the human and economic costs of the war every day. This market, the unofficial entrance to Trinco town, could be considered symbolic of the state of a district that is healing slowly in physical and psychological ways.

As the international community raises concerns about the treatment of civilians in the Vanni, and the plan to care for those who are displaced by the most recent fighting, Trinco is sometimes cited as an example of post-battle rehabilitation. If the Anuradapura Junction market is any indication, then the people of Trincomalee are willing to show up for peace and normal life. Those who trade in the new marketplace say they have no intention of relocating. With time, they say, peace and normal life will come.

The population of the junction neighborhood has changed, according to Shamen de Souza, who has run a stationery shop in the market with her husband since the new market opened last June. Shamen, a Burgher married to a Sinhalese, says that before there were more Sinhalese people working in the district.

Komala is a recent addition to the area. She moved here from Jaffna last year "because of the situation." She stays with her family close by and shops at this market often.

This market was rattled in 2005 and 2006 by militarized violence as well as several shootings and a grenade attack. In 2006 another Trinco market was bombed, further frightening residents and depressing the local economy. Conflict and suspicion rose between the ethnic communities, and the hartals imposed by the LTTE every week fueled the tension.

When the army ran the LTTE out of Trincomalee, and the recovery process began, USAID focused on the Anuradhapura Junction market. USAID often works on projects that will be used by all of the resident communities. Before they took on the market project, USAID had installed a sports complex, a new bus stand, and a playground, all in areas where they will be used by the Sinhalese, Tamil, and Muslim people who live and work in Trinco.

USAID hoped, and the community agreed, that leveling the rickety market stalls at the small market and building a solid structure with proper drainage and electricity, would be a step toward healing and redevelopment.

A few stalls down from Nazeer, another veteran vendor is sitting on a stool with small bunches of bananas hanging by him and a heap of coconuts on the ground. A.L. Karunasena says the has never had a problem with security along the roads or felt apprehensive about coming to the market, but he has felt the impact of the war on his business.

"Before I was getting a good income, but now people are afraid to come here because of the situation. There are no incidents at this market, but with security tight along the road, people don’t come here."

In Trinco, security checkpoints are a different story to the periodic ID checks that Colombo drivers experience. Frequent stops, detailed questioning and long searches make travel around the district difficult. It’s an issue that the Provincial Council’s Chief Minister Pillayan says is a hindrance to economic and social recovery.

"It takes so much time to pass through checkpoints. People should be free to live their own lives at their own places, and that has not materialized."

Pillayan says that Trincomalee has the resources it needs to grow its economy, but that growth is stymied by the constant checkpoints and large military presence. "Roads, bridges, harbors, fisheries, we have. But due to the security situation, people are not able to choose how they make their livelihoods."

He for one would like to see fewer checkpoints and equitable treatment of all people in the district. But he knows that there has to be a balance between keeping the unstable region safe, and allowing the community enough freedom to heal, economically and psychologically.

But the vendors at the junction have a more immediate concern on their minds: the relentless, rising Trinco sun, which pops up over the trees early in the day and scorches the cement forcing the vendors to close early and lose valuable sales time, driving up prices and ruining their perishables.

De Souza can only keep her stationery shop open until about noon, when the sun’s rays drives her away from her counter. "The books fade," she complained. The limited time to do business means she has to charge a bit more for her stickers and dictionaries than shops in other parts of town. In addition, a stall costs between Rs. 2,000 and 5,000 per month to rent.

"Even people who live here go to the city to shop. With 150 rupees you get more there." To supplement the family income, Shamen makes coconut oil in her home and sells it wholesale to shops in town.

"If they give us some shades, all the people will be willing to stay until 9 pm. We asked the chairman for shades, but they have not come. That was five months ago."

Karunasena pointed out his neighboring stalls,it close early protect their merchandise from the heat. "If they sell chocolates in the shops, then by 11:30 they have to close because the stock will melt," he said.

Karunasena and De Souza are both active on the vendors’ society, which was reorganized and empowered after the new marketplace opened. The Urban Council is in charge of the facility, with the vendors’ society acting as the voice of the users. Karunasena said that the Urban Council Chairman came to the market two months ago, and they explained about the sun. "Nothing has happened yet. The chairman said they will do the work later, there is other work to do now."

Meanwhile, those vendors who happen to have eastward-facing stalls have put up tarps to keep the sun off of their vegetables. Situated as they are in the direct line of sunrise, their squash and beans are in danger before 10 am.