Experiences
Walker
Sri Lanka
Jan 28, 05

The heat begins to rise around 7 am.  The best part of the morning is from 3:30 to 5:30; it is nice and cool…and up early enough to hear the morning prayers from the Muslims and Hindu communities.  The Christians sleep in and pray silently.  Hopefully they are praying for more people to come and help clean up the mess.  It is a huge job.

I am amazed at the number of families that I am dealing with.  The number of children in this community was down-sized by 1204 during the Wave.  One mother I met on the beach today told me her story of running with her 8 year old child holding her hand and her mother holding her other.  In the powerful rush of water and debris she lost her hold on both.  She never saw them again as she floated on top and clung to some debris that eventually guided her to a safe roof top where she clung until the waters receded.  Terrified she hung there searching until exhausted for her loved ones.  She is one of the 2000 adults, consisting of   710 families that I am trying to get 700 tents for.  The children are supposed to go back to school in two weeks by government decree and it is the job of all the NGO,s to provide long term temporary housing.  That means cement floors for the tents and galvanized tin for the roofs.  Latrines and tanks of fresh water need to be in place before occupation.  Sometimes the enormity of the situation here makes me feel totally numb.  I cant feel a thing because there is so much to feel.  I am overwhelmed.  And then one of those smiles comes by and we all are back at the task of recreation of a loving village along the Indian Ocean.

At this moment some of the people are living in 26 school buildings, located throughout the community.  The Canadian Dart Regiment agreed today to run their Bob-Cat over the 4 new sites that have been secured and we are trying to locate long term tent shelters to be provided by someone.  The flimsy blue tarp and 2x2 structures that we have been using are just not adequate in this heat, intense sunlight, and besides; they become ovens during the day and melt anything placed in them.  The natural fiber of palm leaves is what has been used here traditionally for thousands of years.  The people would prefer that.  But they are still so traumatized that they are still not in a position to erect shelter for themselves and continue a life without or help.

Example:  This morning around 10am we were delivering some sleeping mats and coking pots and were going to erect a few temporary tents when all of a sudden people were yelling and screaming and running towards us.  Everyone in the whole village was totally taken over by fear.  Hysterical almost.  They were running away from the beach.  The looks on their faces caused me to begin to fear.  I looked around a spotted a tree that I think I could have climbed….at least 15 foot off the sand   “TSUNAMI !  TSUNAMI !

Run for your lives” people were shouting and others were gathering what little belongings they have and exited the camps all over town and headed away from the beaches.  One area as before, the people were trapped as it was like a spit with water on both sides and know where really to run to.  Two of the nurses were in camp doing rounds when the panic started.  Confusion reigned and the fear they saw in the eyes of the women and children is something they will never forget.

This was the 6th such false Tsunami alarm that has taken the people over since Dec 26, 2004.  The stress is their lives is unimaginable.   My translator and I get along really well; joke a lot; and after the first wave of escapees headed past us we looked at each other and he said, “ lets go for a swim at the beach….I replied;  yeah…maybe we can catch a wave or two”.

So we grabbed our three wheeler and drove the 400 yards straight thru the rubble of old torn worn scared & salt saturated once dwellings that remained on the beach and got to the edge of the ocean.  The sea was indeed more intense than usual and I could feel the fear still at the edge from someone who left it there.  It was all around us.  I have a tremendous respect for Mother Ocean….but today I did not linger at her side.  I did not even touch her.  We too departed, not in a panic…but just felt more comfortable getting the “free wheeler” headed in the opposite direction. 

As we passed throngs of people standing in doorways we signaled by hand that every thing was fine; no problem.  No wave.  The local radio station sent out strong messages every few minutes telling them that the wave was a false alarm….that is was just a rumor like last time and everyone was really safe. 

Safe we were.  But stressed like hell.  It was almost like being here during the big Wave as it spread through out their town.

It took hours for things to settle down…..no one went back to work the shops were all locked up and people just wanted to be together as families and feel safe.  We have quite a gathering here at the Staff Quarters, dinner this evening will be headed by Pediatrician Dr. William Grut (Vancouver Children’s Hospital), a fellow who is originally from Sri Lanka; established for 15 years in Vancouver now, and traveled here after the Tsunami to help. Also in tonight’s group are a mother and daughter team from London England, two lovely local women house keepers and excellent cooks, myself and about 6 lizards on the walls.

After dinner its time for a cold shower and time to sit on the porch watching people watching people as the coolness of the evening sets in with the hoards of mosquitoes.

Kate Amatruda:  her humanitarian mission was sponsored by the Association for Play Therapy;  thank you for saying it so well: 

"I look on the map and see that Sri Lanka is a teardrop off the coast of India. I have not slept through the night since I returned five days ago.

 It is the eyes that haunt me; the eyes of the father whose daughter was ripped out of his arms, the eyes of the grandmother who saw her children and grandchildren swept away. A generation lost in a heartbeat.

 I see shock on the faces of the survivors, and am reminded yet again of how everything can change in an instant. Whether it is an earthquake, a Tsunami, a tornado, or planes hitting towers, life is so fragile. Everything can be gone in the blink of an eye; we are so little, nature and war are so big. Yet we have this illusion, at least in the West, that we are in control.

 So I look, and look again, compelled to try to discern how people do it. How do you go on when your village, your home, your family, is destroyed? I see the faces of those who I met in the refugee camps, and it is the eyes that capture me.

And it is the eyes of the children that haunt me, and make me unable to sleep through the night. " 

Andrea Warnick, RN:

The tsunami that devastated coastlines from Indonesia to Somalia on December 26, 2004 disproportionately impacted the regions’ most vulnerable population: children. Too physically weak to endure the onslaught of rushing water, many children were thrown inland by the tsunami or were pulled out to sea by the retreating waves. On the northeastern coast of Sri Lanka the fishing village of Mullaittivu was hit directly by the tsunami. One particular tragedy stood out from others amid the many horrors of that day. Three-quarters of the children at the Senthalir orphanage in Mullaittivu died as water engulfed the orphanage’s main building. On December 25, Senthalir was home to 132 children ranging in age from toddlers to young teenagers. The following day 94 of the children perished in the chaos of the water as their guardians and fellow orphans tried desperately to fight the water to save them. Those who lived did so by climbing nearby trees or clambering up to the structure’s roof.    Tender Sprouts Inititiative