"Tsunami
Doctor" left Sri Lanka with a bad taste in his mouth!
By Carl Muller
Dr. Thomas Carlin was holidaying
in Unawatuna when the tsunami struck. His was an ugly story - good
in parts - when I met him in Kandy. Burly, bald and bristling with
energy, Carlin is one of the "fighting Irish" who has
seen the world and is repelled by much of it. Yet in Unawatuna,
where he was in December, he had to think fast.
When
the sea came in, he swept his documents into a plastic folder, zipped
it up and leaped for a mattress that was whipped off his bed. He
was propelled out of his hotel room, shot through a window, rode
the rushing water as best he could and was dumped unceremoniously
into a thicket that, he swore, smelt like bad prune juice. He ran
as best he could when the second wave bore in. "It was a post-nuclear
landscape," he said. “The two waves - the second was
bigger - stunned us with the magnitude of their impact. Not one
stone stood on another. I was looking at utter desolation, isolation.
No communications, no roads, telephone or electricity posts, jumbles
of torn wires.. everything wiped out. I thought, my God, are we
the only ones left? Is this happening all over the world?"
Many
of those who survived took to the high compound of the Rock House;
and that hotel complex quickly became an emergency centre. Dr. Carlin
set to work. He mustered many who helped. They salvaged what medicines
there were and as much medical materials available. Men and women
worked feverishly, even tearing up sarongs and saris into strips
to serve as bandages.
"I
sent out teams of men and organised a search for water and whatever
food there was. Clothes and shoes were collected and a lot of tinned
foods that had been thrown forcefully out of hotels and homes. Men
raked through the debris, collecting whatever they thought necessary."
Carlin's
greatest task was the search for and collection of the dead. A makeshift
mortuary was demarcated in a cleared area and the dead kept being
brought in. He was remorseless in his task but, as he said, so many
survivors, some just dragging themselves, many shivering in the
shock of it all, looking aimlessly at the destruction around them,
rallied. "I never saw such courage," he said. "None
thought themselves to be victims. They were all survivors and their
will was to see that others also survived, to drag them as best
they could from death's door."
Carlin
was given a name by the hundreds who teamed up under him. Tsunami
Doctor, they said, and it inspired them to follow him and do all
they could. "Within 12 hours the dead had begun to decompose,"
he said, “and I had to get pits dug that would be mass graves.
Every corpse was photographed for later identification. We buried
173 that day - among them 11 foreigners - and the people worked
with a will. It took between 36 and 48 hours for the helicopters
to come in. Pilots told me they had been ordered out by the British
High Commission to evacuate injured foreign nationals. That operation
went on for up to 84 hours. I said I would make my own way back
and they agreed that, being a doctor, I should remain."
On
the third day, Dr. Carlin stopped his teams from going out in search
of the dead. "Decomposition would have been dangerously advanced
by then. There were no masks or gloves. Recovering any more bodies
needed specialist equipment. Everyone around came to regard the
place I worked in as a crisis centre. Over 400 were treated, some
with terrible lesions. It had to be a patch-up job on many, but
they could survive long enough to be taken to a hospital."
Dr.
Carlin said he was stunned at the manner in which the people rallied.
"We organised ourselves. They dragged through the debris, finding
whatever could be used. Many ran inland to homes from where they
brought food, water and more people to help. Every man and woman
made me shiver with a special kind of excitement. None of them had
any thought of self." He quickly rallied the staff of the hotels
to help. He mentioned names: Marcus, Anil Dias and Asoka Wickremasinghe
of Rock House; Malli of Shangri La; Dan and Simona of Secret Garden.
Today,
these hotel staff still shake their heads and tell of the Tsunami
Doctor. Ask them today and they will tell you that his was the only
success story in those first bitter sea-drenched days. Dr. Carlin
had much more he could have said, but all he wanted to convey was
the incredible will and power of those who worked with him. It is,
he said, "a story of survival with dignity and selflessness
in the face of total catastrophe. I call it little miracle!"
And
then things turned sour. With no protest, he watched NGOs and government
teams move in. He was told that his services would no longer be
required. He watched men come in, armed with stacks of notices stuck
on poles to say that this was a disaster area and declared a 100-metre
buffer zone. "While people were starving, dying, rotting, while
children were missing in their hundreds, the government was apparently
busy printing no occupation notices," he said wryly. "Oh,
there was such a show of concern and sympathy. All sorts of Very
Important Parasites came in with their bureaucratic drums and self-serving
cymbals.
“I
was shocked to see how quickly corruption began to blossom. Those
who had worked so well with me were utterly demoralised. It was
if their true natures had become stunted. I saw things that, to
me, were unbelievable. I saw cash aid being given to sturdy men
who suddenly began to shout out that they were fisherman and had
lost their boats and fishing tackle. Many of them were outsiders
from the interior who had rushed to the scene to take advantage
of the stricken people's miseries. I knew they could not be fisherman.
“I
watched women lining up for food parcels, then go to the rear of
the queue where knots of men hovered, give the parcels to them and
rejoin the queues. I saw the small stock of medicines I had so painfully
collected, being taken away and many of the injured told to go to
hospital. It was unbelievable.
The
vultures were feeding the vultures! What was happening was unbelievable.
Packets of tea and milk food and pulses were given to people who
had no way to prepare the milk or cook the grain. What they needed
was a sheltered camp, something to cover themselves with, a field
kitchen and cooked hot meals.
"I
saw nothing to tell me of genuine concern for the terrible condition
of the living, let alone the dead. Worst of all, I saw flocks of
debris combers, carry away everything they thought would be serviceable.
These buzzards moved in well-organized gangs. Much furniture was
dragged away and they thought nothing of turning over the bodies
they came upon, filling their pockets with gold chains, earnings,
anything of value. Sometimes they even fought over a necklace or
chain. So much had been swept away from the hotels and guest houses.
All this was carried away just as swiftly."
Dr.
Carlin went to Colombo, then came to Kandy. "I saw thousands
of good people, rushing to the aid collection centres, giving all
they could. Families went, even the children carrying what they
could. So much goodness.. and yet I learn of thousands huddled in
the rain, no one to give them a kind word or a helping hand.
“From
Colombo I contacted so many people and organisations in my country
and elsewhere. I urged them to keep sending aid but also to make
sure it reached the temples and churches. The Buddhist temples in
the south took special care of the suffering, fed and sheltered
them.
The
saffron robe was as beacon of hope to thousands. I am not afraid
to call the big bluffs that now go on, perpetrated on thousands
of sufferers by these "official" organisations and by
stooges and thieves. Here in Kandy I see Swedish shoes, bags and
bags of clothes being sold. It is so obvious that all these are
aid donations. I saw shops in Colombo selling Australian canned
fish. How did all this aid fall into the hands of traders?
Dr.
Carlin was in Kandy until he left for the airport. "Just for
my own need to see how things have fared, I intend to return in
six months," he said. "I will spearhead more help from
as many countries as I can - and you can be the sure the world will
listen to all I have to say!" |