Tuesday

After the Tsunami

A few decades before the tsunami hit, Phuket Island was blanketed in endless expanses of steamy perennial forests bounded on all coasts by white sanded beaches and blue-green waters rich with marine life. Great numbers of small gibbon monkeys swung from treetop branches while varieties of colorful birds flew above the uninterrupted canopy in this lush tropical jungle. Tigers, leopards, Asiatic black bears, species of deer and of course the mighty elephant lived in harmonious pecking order; an abundance of wild tropical fruit trees, providing a majestic resource of sustenance. Through the years, Phuket left behind most of its indigenous beauty as international tourism, logging, rubber tree tapping and tin mining began absorbing the island’s diversified ecosystems. The great jungle expanses of the past have been reduced to a rather smallish national park and animal reserve containing the only remaining virgin rainforest on the island. I recently had the chance to visit Phuket Island and a few of the 20 or so villages hardest hit by the enormous tsunami wave unleashed by two seaquakes approximately 30 kilometers beneath the ocean floor off the west coast of Sumatra. Today, despite abysmal devastation and inestimable loss of life, plenty has been accomplished to ease the suffering that’s still taking place in many areas of the region. After the tragic events of December 26, 2004, thousands of lives were destroyed in Thailand and Southeast Asia as a shocked world generously poured selfless assistance, emergency relief and reconstruction efforts; thousands were displaced or died in the aftermath of such a destructive natural phenomenon. Many of the palm studded fishing villages along the beachfront were flattened; their residents either drowning or lost in the sea. Those who were able to flee the original wave returned a few days later in search of loved ones and possessions to be met by the shocking news that the prime land where their villages had once stood had been declared ‘official property’ at the insistence of government representatives who ordered survivors to relocate away from seaside areas. In fact, the land was pronounced ‘unsafe and off bounds’ to villagers while enclosing the hidden agenda of promoting it - later on - to land development companies, a detail kept secret from residents and volunteer workers. However, in the midst of a major disaster, international non governmental organizations (NGOs) had no other choice than to overlook bureaucratic hurdles, corruption and illegal conditions in order to bring about much needed aid. Thriving international tourism has been – since the mid 1980’s -- an extremely profitable business in Phuket and other Thai islands. After the ravages of the tsunami, legislators and developers seized the opportunity to resolve the long debated -- and pre-tsunami -- issue of villager relocation to lesser valued land. Those volunteer workers I informally spoke to said that with ruling still pending in the higher courts, they have continued to provide local aid and remain confident the relevant authorities will revisit their plans. I sensed extreme mutual admiration between the locals and international workers; the former applaud non governmental organizations’ persistence on their continuing process of re-building lives and the shattered infrastructures left behind by water and debris; the latter find the perseverance of local people to regain control of their lives “humbling”. NGOs are especially concerned with local authority response efforts for possible future catastrophes; however, the new National Disaster Warning Centre in the province of Nonthaburi conducted a drill in mid December ‘05 which -- after a well announced and publicized instructional campaign -- turned to be a complete success despite copious rain. A network of 62 sounding warning towers and hundreds of posted Tsunami Evacuation Route signs is almost completed -- reassuring people of their security in unfamiliar areas. Contrary to places such as Banda Aceh in Indonesia, and entire coastal towns in Sri Lanka, Phuket is again open for trade. Business production has picked up as curious tourists and some locals roam again about the beach areas. Most adjacent coastal roads are navigable once more and hotel, shop and restaurant owners are readily resuming life as they knew it before the tsunami. Different stages of construction can be seen everywhere on the island. New and sturdy family homes have sprung up in the flattened areas. Debris has been cleaned up and other than some disabled trees and broken tree limbs; one would never guess this was a devastation zone only 18 months ago. Relief efforts have been strongest near the area of Pathong Beach as this was the site where many tourists and locals drowned in the floods following the enormous wave. A children’s village compound still under construction will provide clean living quarters for over 120 orphans. Even though the rubber tree plantations down the northwestern coastal roads seemed to withstand the brunt of the tsunami, the low mangrove forests which protect fauna and housing communities along the coastline was damaged by water and debris and will take time to grow back. International business has picked up some; nonetheless, many Thais still seem reluctant to return to this beautiful paradise with such recent tragic past. Forever superstitious, they believe the whole area is inhabited by the spirits of the departed. An eerie feeling descends on me as I wade in the sapphire waters in this part of the Indian Ocean called the Andaman Sea; it’s unimaginable that these same graceful, white sanded shores of bright sunshine and leaning coconut palms provided the stage from which so many people were swept away. I heard a volunteer woman say that survivors will -- for all time -- keep inside their mind’s eye, the reflection of churning black waters and the absolute roar of the sea, remembering what it feels like to be drowning among dead bodies and hazardous debris. Reverent of the strong undertow, I ambled along the shore, my eyes intent on the horizon. By Edie Wilcox@ May 2006