Four Stories of the Tsunami

As the train took us down the western coast of Sri Lanka from Colombo to Galle, we were shocked by the disastrous effects of the Tsunami that had hit four years earlier. Entire lots of ruined houses, others with only building foundations left; stacks of bricks, piles of shredded cement walls, shack-towns where people have been surviving ever since their belongings and past lives were washed away by the furious water.

The Tsunami hit most severely the East coast which is part of the territory claimed by the Tamil Tigers and regarded as dangerous to access, meaning that the relief efforts were diverted from this area. It’s hard to evaluate what damage was caused or what rebuilding has taken place there given its state of isolation. The Tsunami then wrapped around the South and licked the West coast, reducing in intensity as it went north.

Unawatuna is a beach just south of Galle, on the South western tip of Sri Lanka, known by local and foreign tourists for its beauty and peacefulness. The Tsunami hit the coast line very brutally, destroying most of the town. Most people were able to save themselves by fleeing to the hills just behind the village. Four years later, we found memories to be just below the surface, though most people at least partially rebuilt their lives, sometimes thanks to donations and direct relationships with tourists. Tourism has not really picked up since then, mainly due to the civil war up North, and tourists unfortunately avoid the island for fear of being unsafe.

In Unawatuna we felt a general sense of struggle; most shops and guesthouses are family owned and are the sole means of livelihood. Hotels were generally below 50% occupancy – and this was high season - and many restaurants had only one or two couples seated for dinner. This year the peak season lasted only 2 weeks, around New Year, with mainly Singhalese tourists from Colombo coming down to party.

The people we talked to maintain their hope for better days and asked us to spread the word, to let the world know that Unawatuna is rebuilt and that the island is safe. And it is, provided you don’t venture into the far North where the war is still active.

Wikipedia states that this earthquake was the biggest in the Indian Ocean in the last 700 years. Of the death toll of 225 000, Sri Lanka lost 45 000 people and displaced 500 000. The Tsunami hit Unawatuna around 9:20 am the day after Christmas, 2004.

Sunil, our friendly rickshaw driver, was parked as usual along the road just above the beach, hanging out with colleagues in front of a hotel, waiting for customers. At first, water slowly came onto the road and started rising; he and his buddies didn’t understand what was happening. He got out of the rickshaw and as the water continued to rise his vehicle started floating. At first he tried to keep it from getting out of control by standing next to it and holding on to the handlebars, but soon understood he couldn’t control it and let go.
By now he knew something dramatic was taking place.
This was the first wave that came slowly and was only a few feet deep.

Left: Example of water receding during the Tsunami in Kata Noi Bay, Thailand.
Right: In Unawatuna, the water receded beyond the rocks at the edge of the bay.

Then, the water in the entire bay receded about 1500 feet before the second, destructive wave arrived. Imagine a bay full of the ocean, starting to empty itself. There was only wet sand...

The next wave then came over the road, powerfully, 4, 5, 6 feet of water, progressively gaining height to attain 22 feet, By then the tumultuous liquid mass, seething and swirling on all sides was taking everything with it; the stalls along the beach, restaurants, shops, small hotels, vehicles... and all the people who couldn’t hang on to something or who were trapped in rooms. There were floating pieces of construction materials everywhere, ripped off of houses; iron bars, beams, entire pieces of rooftops, corrugated metal …
Sunil was swept inland several hundred feet. The most difficult thing for everyone was to avoid being hit by the massive, sharp debris. Sunil caught a branch of a mango tree and hung to it, waiting for the water to calm down, trying to collect himself and consider what to do next. As the water mass slowed down he started swimming between the debris as best he could, with his right calf severely injured by a metal bar. He finally ended up in front of the second story of the Neptune Bay Hotel.

A tourist on a balcony caught his hand and pulled him out of the water. He was out of danger, but badly bleeding and was administered basic first aid on the spot. Five hours later, once he got to the Temple on the hill, he discovered that his family was safe. They had all fled up the hill behind the town at the first signs of the strange water behavior.
Sunil’s family had made friends over the years with some Dutch tourists. Aware of the impact of the Tsunami on Unawatuna, they contacted his family shortly after the disaster and directly funded a period of recovery, enabling him to rebuild his house, get a new rickshaw and replace the sewing equipment and material for their tailoring shop. The opportunity to help and be helped enabled these two families to become like one, forever bonded. The Tsunami was a trauma from which Sunil’s family came out whole.
Simona has been in Unawatuna for 22 years and created the Secret Garden guesthouse (http://www.secretgardenvilla.lk/) many years ago. Three days before the tsunami hit, in the height of the tourist season, she decided to go visit her mother who was going to be alone for Christmas in Switzerland. Simona had never left at this time of year before but felt she had to be with her 90 year old mother. She left her friend Danny in charge of the guesthouse.
That morning Danny saw the first water coming into the guesthouse garden. He had to get all of the guests awake, out of their beds and take them somewhere safe. He ran around the garden yelling “OUT, GET OUT” and guided people to follow him through the back of the garden. Nine of the ten guests were able to climb up the hill behind the guesthouse before the wave destroyed the buildings practically to the ground. One lady could not follow as quickly as the others and was caught in the water. She held on to a tree branch until the water stopped rising, and on Danny’s direction finally caught a floating door. Danny jumped in the water and swam to her, bringing her back to safety.

Simona arrived the next day. It would be four months before she would start cleaning up the grounds and rebuilding, and another 18 months to complete the rebuild. Though she didn’t say a word about it, we suppose that during that time she was instrumental in collecting funds from Europe and helping the community organize itself during the crisis. The guesthouse started to live again in 2006, practically two years after the tsunami hit. Staying several days in this lush tropical oasis, it was hard to imagine what had happened.

Chandana, our articulate guide and tuk-tuk driver, 24 at the time, was hanging around with colleagues waiting for customers on a street 100 yards removed from the beach. When the first water came through, they continued talking and even joking about how strange it was that there could be that much water on the road. Only when the water receded did they realize something critical was happening. He ran with his friends to the hill, knowing that his family house and all of his belongings would probably disappear. As he went up the hill, the second, main wave was coming; he saw it destroy the beach side buildings and later, take his rickshaw.

Chandana was relieved to know that his family was safe on the hill. After the disaster, friends of his tried to retrieve the dozens of rickshaws that were in the water, hoping they would repair them and get back into business. When they hauled them out of the bay they discovered the lightweight vehicles hadn’t resisted the power of the water and the floating debris, and were just good to sell for scrap metal.

Without insurance, how were they going to start their lives again? Months later Chandana met some Dutch tourists who decided to buy him a brand new tuk-tuk. He has been very grateful to have been helped in this way and has a special perspective on foreigners, seeing them as compassionate friends rather than only as sources of revenue.
Dimuthu aka "Jungle Boy", our dear Mister Do It All at the Secret Garden guesthouse, was 17 when the Tsunami hit. He was working at one of the beach hotels and saw the water progressively coming in. He stayed with his buddies, observing and chatting, until they were surprised by the second wave. Just in time, he was able to climb on the rooftop of the second floor of the hotel and saw the disaster happen before him.


The hotel started swaying and tilted to one side, but further resisted the pressure of the water. Dimuthu was able to rescue several people and pull them onto the roof, that held up. His siblings and father lived in the jungle on the hill, so he knew they were safe. The hotel had to be demolished and was out of business, and like most people in Unawatuna, Dimuthu lost his job. When Simona started cleaning up the Secret Garden and rebuilding the guesthouse, she called upon him since her son and Dimuthu were childhood friends. After that she offered him a job as caretaker; he is now hoping some day to go to Ireland and live with his girlfriend.

It took months for Unawatuna to take care of all the displaced families in refugee camps. There was literally nothing; no roof, no food, no utensils, no clothes. Little by little, some areas started to be cleaned up and rebuilt. Funds arrived sporadically through organizations and private individuals. Westerners established on the island, like Simona, became a conduit for funds to come directly from private donors. Tourists who had visited Unawatuna previously were compelled to help. Private initiatives emerged as the Sri Lanka government was unable to cope in the first weeks. Singhalese and foreigners alike benefited from these private funds to rebuild their houses and businesses.
Nandana, our friend in Kandy who is a psychologist, went to the coast to help Tsunami victims with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. He believes that the predominantly Buddhist Singhalese culture helped people rapidly recover and start to rebuild their new lives. The collective nature of the Singhalese identity, highly interdependent, supportive of and supported by the community, the intrinsic acceptance of forces greater than us and of what life deals to us helped them work through the trauma and loss with resilience.

This cultures has a low locus of control and considers life as driven mainly by external forces. This enabled its people to come to terms with the shock easier than if they were from a culture such as mine in the US, where the exercise of control over our lives is considered a criteria of sanity and well being… and makes life more neurotic when we are not in control, such as in accidents or natural catastrophies.

The aftermath of the Tsunami widely varied depending on whether people lived in a tourist area of “economic value” - such as Unawatuna -, that also enabled potential relationships with foreigners, or if they lived on one of the coastal strips that never see a tourist, or worse one that is politically isolated like the North Eastern Coast.

Today, in Unawatuna the waves come 30 feet further inland than they did four years ago. The village has mended its external scars but despite their recovery, each person’s story revealed vivid memories and emotions.

Above all, they hope now for a better future, bringing some prosperity back to their beach in paradise.