BACK
TO LIVING
Amidst the rubble of the tsunami
devastation, a shattered people are beginning to pick up the pieces.
Kumudini Hettiarachchi and Renuka Sadanandan report
Four weeks ago, the tsunami took everything
they had. But now along the ravaged southern coast, people are coming
back to what was once their homes and salvaging the little that
the sea had spared. In small pockets by the roadside are clusters
of different coloured tents pitched amidst the rubble of their former
homes.
Just
past the Koggala industrial zone is Sinha deevara gammanaya that
once housed some 180 families. Here as the first rays of dawn lightened
the sky, the family of G. W. Nimal, 33, was stirring. With a plastic
jug of milk tea in his hand, the 33-year-old fisherman and his baby
son were preparing for another day in their new temporary home,
a bright blue tent, donated by a Dutch organisation.
As
a chill wind blew from the ocean just across the road, the smiling
baby sans a stitch of clothing sneezed repeatedly. "He has
been ill since the tsunami," says Nimal, adding that his wife
is with their elder daughter, aged eight, who cannot bear to be
near the sea since the ordeal of December 26. They are at their
grandparents' home, further inland.
The
thought uppermost in Nimal's mind is how he and others in this fishing
village can resume their livelihood as soon as possible. "My
father's boat was destroyed and we need help to start fishing again.
At best, we go out to sea only for about four months of the year
and at other times earn an income through stilt fishing," he
says.
"Though
we fear the sea, we have no option. 'Hithe gasma thiyanawa'. We
are terrified especially at night but what choice do we have? Going
out to sea is the only job we know," says Nimal.
G.W.
Chandrasiri, 47, who lost his own boat in the tsunami echoes similar
concerns. "Otherwise how can we survive and feed our families,"
he asks.
At
Unawatuna, where a board proudly claims this to be one of the seven
best beaches in the world, sits Dinesh, 26, surveying the wreckage
of his family's diving centre. In contrast to the shimmering turquoise
waters lapping at the bay, the shoreline is a picture of devastation.
Still uncleared, the rubble of broken buildings, bits of furniture
and tattered clothing are strewn on the beach. All that is left
is in a tent given to them by Seva Lanka.
Dinesh's
father, Gnane, a veteran diver and younger brother Chammi were killed
when the monster waves hit the bay. "My father shouted to us
to secure the boats and urged the foreign tourists to run to higher
ground. He was an expert swimmer and was never afraid of the sea.
He had lived by the sea for 30 years and believed no harm could
come to him from it. We found his body the next day. He had a big
gash on his forehead and we think he had been dashed against the
building," says Dinesh, reliving the horror of that morning.
Of
their diving centre, only the board remains. Now living in a tent
on the beach, Dinesh and his friends contemplate what the future
holds. "No one seems to be thinking about Unawatuna. The media
has forgotten us,” says Asanka. "We have been working
for many years and rendering a service to this community. We also
act as lifeguards and have saved so many."
In
the temple close by, the chief priest of Amarasingharamaya, Ven.
Talpe Ariyajothi Thera at the village of Yaddehemulla feels that
the tsunami was retribution for the way the coast was polluted.
"We threw rubbish into the sea and the sea has thrown it back
at us. The water in the wave was black... thada kalu patta. We need
to protect our resources and learn to live in harmony with nature,”
he says.
He
and some of the devotees who had observed sil that Poya morning
had gone up to the chaitya to do a bodhi pooja when they heard a
tremendous roar and saw the tsunami surging towards the shore. The
temple on lower ground was submerged but even after the water receded,
they stayed with the injured foreigners and locals who had sought
refuge there. The injured were taken to hospital after some time
by a chopper.
On
the outskirts of Galle in Dadella, a well-organised community of
villagers displaced by the tsunami live in spacious tents on a small
hillock overlooking their former homes. With their settlement being
looked after by Italian aid workers, the womenfolk have just finished
cooking a community meal of rice, potato curry and devilled salmon
for their lunch.
D.
Nishanthi, 29, in tent No. 20 has four children between the ages
of 12 to seven. When they saw the wave coming that fateful day,
the villagers grabbed their children and fled to higher ground.
"All of us escaped. Only one mother who went back to salvage
her gold lost her two children," says Nishanthi.
Visiting
her tent was W. Anusha, 20, breastfeeding her three-month-old infant
son while her three-year-old daughter played alongside. Nishanthi's
husband works for the Galle Municipal Council while Anusha’s
makes a living selling rope.
A
few doors away with his hand in a clean white bandage was Wellage
Amarasena, 44, a labourer at the Galle Municipal Council. He is
worried about the plight of his elder daughter who will soon be
a teenager, his wife having deserted the family, leaving their three
children in his care. Ever since his wife went away, when their
son was a baby, she has taken on the role of a little mother and
no longer goes to school.
In
his tent sits the wooden cabinet sans its glass front which he salvaged
from the debris of their home. In it are a few precious possessions,
cups and glasses that the sea had left behind. In his spare time,
Amarasena armed with his fishing rod goes out to catch fish for
the family even now trying to maintain a semblance of his old life
before the tsunami.
Here
in Dadella, where the entire community has virtually relocated onto
higher ground even with their dogs, there was a sense of hope and
expectation that within perhaps three to four months they could
rebuild and start life anew.
From
utter despair and hopelessness, these families now living in semi-privacy
in their canvas tents have begun the long journey back to normalcy
after the tsunami. This is but the first step and it is the bounden
duty and responsibility of the authorities to ensure that they go
from temporary tent to permanent home as soon as possible.
Operation
cluster camps
The government's plan is to identify land and put up temporary
shelters for each family in the affected areas so that the displaced
could be moved out from schools, temples and churches that are now
being used as camps, says the Media Co-ordinator of the Centre for
National Operations (CNO).
"The
plan is to set up 16 tents in a cluster and have 10-12 clusters
in an area. As of last week, there were 370 camps, down from the
earlier 700. This has been due to smaller camps being merged, people
being encouraged to leave the camps and return to their partially
damaged homes or to move into individual tents,” he explains.
"Those
who have gone back to their damaged homes will receive a few basic
utility items such as kitchen utensils and mattresses as well as
food vouchers to enable them to start living independently,”
he adds. While there has been a donor pledge for 50,000 tents, government
agencies as well as NGOs too have been distributing tents.
Already
one plot in Panadura, 500 metres from the clock tower junction along
the Bandaragama Road has been identified and the first ‘cluster
project’ set up. "It is very well-organised with all
facilities such as pipe-borne water, electricity and 50 toilets.
We have 100 families already relocated there," says Rear Admiral
Vasantha Karandagoda under whose purview this 'Interim Housing Project'
falls.
The
families are also being given food vouchers with which they can
get dry rations, rice, dhal etc from the co-operative stores."This
arrangement will be kept in place until homes are built for these
displaced families. The majority are fisherfolk, the rest labourers.
The community has been allocated different tasks, looking after
the cooking arrangements, the security aspects etc. Overall round
the clock security for the project is being provided by the Navy,”
he says.
Rear
Admiral Karandagoda also explained that those who have been allocated
specific duties are being paid a small allowance. There are also
others who are going to work from the project itself. And in an
effort to restore some normalcy, two large tents have been equipped
with television sets, and sports goods are also provided to enable
the children especially to enjoy some recreation.
Two
more such interim projects in the Kalutara district are to be set
up on temple land in Payagala and church land in Maggona, where
the displaced are already being accommodated.
Tale told by Unawatune mamandi: Was it the tidal wave of 1883 or
another tsunami?
It was a few days after the tsunami and A.G.H.E. Nanayakkara,
65, retired principal was at the Yatagala Raja Maha Vihara at Unawatuna
where some 89 families had taken refuge from the tsunami. They were
discussing in hushed tones the tragedy that had befallen their community.
Nanayakkara is the elder brother of the chief priest of this purana
viharaya.
Suddenly
he was a child once more and in his mind's eye, he saw Unawatune
Mamandi visiting his ancestral home. In a flash, he remembered the
frightening tale told to the wide-eyed youngsters. That was the
story Nanayakkara related to the monks and the people at the temple,
a story long buried in his mind.
Going
in search of just this very long-forgotten folk tale handed down
from generation to generation, The Sunday Times found Nanayakkara
in his home at Metarambe, in the inner heartlands of Unawatuna.
Reliving
his childhood, he recalled how this man used to bring them fish
in exchange for jak and very pungent betel leaf from their estate.
He would also do various odd jobs like whitewashing their home.
He earned his living making brooms and coir rope. Unawatune Mamandi
or Kiringodagamage Kiridoris or Siyadoris (he can't exactly remember
which) would tell of an incident told to him by his own grandfather.
"Muda
hinduna. Passe udata awa. (First the sea receded and then it came
back very high)," Mamandi had told the young Nanayakkara. It
seemed Mamandi's family had lived on a property adjacent to the
rock atop which is now located Unawatuna's 'Welle Devale'. On the
boundary was (and still can be seen) the massive 'Vahala gala' where
the villagers believed that the Devol deviyo (the controller of
the Yaksha-bhootha groups) came to from Seenigama. To revere the
Devol deviyo, the humble village folk used to light clay lamps under
the Vahala gala.
Over
the years this had become a ritual and a kapu mahattaya took up
residence in the area to tend to a "nonivena pahanak' (eternal
flame) there. Then came the huge wave and the lamp was extinguished
while the kapu mahattaya managed to flee to safety.
After
the waters subsided, the kapu mahattaya was reluctant to come back
to his duties until one day he had a vivid dream. In his dream,
he was asked "Ai bung, kapugewatte linde watura wath nedde?
Eka wath genath paththu karanda."
That
was the day the kapuwa relit the lamp. Even today, on the last day
of the Kataragama festival, there is a festival at Welle Devale
and devotees light lamps here. And so, according to Nanayakkara,
even four generations ago, there had been a 'muda goda galeemak'
at Unawatuna.
Was
it the tidal wave caused by the volcanic eruption of the island
of Krakatoa, west of Java on August 26, 1883 or a different tsunami?
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