|
Jan 15, 2005 – Toy Story (part II) POTTUVIL, SRI LANKA – To a lot of people, the image of relief agencies in developing countries is the image of giant Toyota Land Cruisers, churning down a dirt road with the windows rolled up and four grim foreign aid workers staring out the windows. That preconception is instantly shattered by Mercy Corps’ official vehicles in Arugam Bay: two three-wheeled tuk-tuks, sporting the Mercy Corps bumper sticker and emblazoned with three of Sri Lanka’s religious icons: Lord Buddha, Lord Rama, and Mickey Mouse. Lyn, Harshana and I spend the morning driving from one welfare center to another, trying to find out where our toys and sport kits would be most welcome. At each camp we meet the grama niladari, or group leader, responsible for coordinating each center’s supplies. These are always men, supervising a governing committee of men and women. Sometimes the GNs are individuals who were prominent before the tsunami, sometimes not. In one camp, the GN is an older man who displayed great heroism and selflessness during and after the flood. Our first thought was that we’d deliver a load of toys to the 102 kids at the camp called Savalai. But as well pull up, the children congregating around us are clutching floppy rabbits and German shepherds. The Red Cross passed through just yesterday, emptying a truckload of used stuffed animals. The GN of Savalai is a 48-year-old fisherman named Miran Lebe. When I first visited this camp last week, Lebe was wild-eyed and raging; I thought he was the village idiot. The fact, Harshana explains, is that he was still in shock. “We have enough for our children,” declares Lebe. “Give what you have to the other camps.” Before we go, though, he corners Harshana. “We could use some kerosene lanterns,” he whispers, “to keep the wild elephants away.” We’ll keep our toys, but we do want to offer a sports kit, for the older kids. In this respect, we face a dilemma: which kit to deliver? We quickly work out a system. The decision will be made by a committee — of kids. A call goes out through the camp, and about two dozen children, boys and girls age 8-12, are gathered together. Prompted by Harshana, they vote with a show of hands: soccer balls, volleyballs and nets, or cricket sets? We expect soccer (or football, as it’s known here) to be the runaway winner, and it is — but there’s also a huge demand for the Frisbees. Who knew? Our second stop is a camp located behind the local mosque, not far from the beach. Our gifts are welcome here, and we hand out stuffed toys and rubber balls in a gleeful but orderly ceremony. Most of the recipients are very young, and there are many babes-in-arms. The baby girls wear beautiful, dangly gold earrings, giving them a look of precocious sophistication. The wisdom of wearing jewelry suddenly seems very clear. Sometimes, the only wealth you can hang on to is what’s pierced through your earlobes, and fastened around your neck. As we prepare to leave, the GN approaches Lyn, and asks for the one item most desperately needed by the camp: cooking kits. As things stand, there are so few pots that ten families must cook their rice in shifts. It’s becoming a serious problem, with obvious repercussions. “If we don’t eat,” the GN says dryly, “we don’t play.” * * * |
 Mercy Corps tuk-tuk, Arugam, Sri Lanka photo © 2005 Dwayne Newton |
|
When the tsunami receded, one of the few structures left standing — more or less — was a popular hotel called the Siam View. During that first terrible week, after the tsunami, before the first relief shipments arrived, the owner of this place — Fred Miller, who has lived in Sri Lanka nearly 30 years — fed the entire community with provisions from their copious freezers (their generator needed only small repairs to function). Miller is keeping up the practice — providing excellent Sri Lankan curries to the scores of local and foreign relief workers. Soft drinks, ice cold, are included. It’s an oasis of Heaven in a vast expanse of hell — and the cost to all comers is zero (though donations are more than welcome). It’s a terrific example of how the community has banded together, and a good place to see signs of optimism. After lunch we leave Arugam Bay and drive north, heading through spectacular wetlands teeming with egrets, eagles, kingfishers and ibis. Oxcarts heave to the side to let us by. Our destination is the large camp called Komari, settled by refugees who came from a devastated village still further north. We’d heard awful things about Komari — that it was ignored, impoverished, and off the radar of the relief agencies. As we approach, we begin to suspect otherwise. The tents are spacious, and set well apart; there are decent roads into the compound; and the view of the river is spectacular. As we drive in, we see about 100 kids sitting quietly under an open-air tent, watching The Lion King on television. Clearly, there’s been an intelligence problem here. This camp seems to have it all; there’s fruit punch, hard candies, everything but buttered popcorn. On discussion with the GN, though, the initial reports are confirmed. The generator-operated DVD player is a special treat, provided by an expat Sri Lankan from Australia. Otherwise, the kids have virtually nothing to keep them busy: no toys, no games, no flying discs. We have no toys for the nearly 600 children in Komari, but we will give them a sport kit. The word goes out for a children’s meeting, and the response is electric. The kids leap up from The Lion King, and form two groups — boys and girls — around us. Harshana takes center stage, and conducts the poll. “How many for cricket!” he demands. The boys’ hands fly up. “How many for volleyball?” The girls’ hands wave. “And how many for football?” This time, every hand in the group shoots into the air. The choice seems clear — but there are hundreds of kids. Lyn, Harshana and I exchange a look, and shrug. Ten minutes later, we witness what must be the most satisfying sight one can see in the world of disaster relief. Scores of formerly listless kids are running and shouting in an open field, their football and cricket games in full swing. Some distance away, the Sri Lankan Army’s Special Task Force is helping set up the volleyball net. We leave before the inevitable happens, and the Frisbee ends up on someone’s roof. * * * |
 children with cricket bat, Savalai camp, Arugam, Sri Lanka photo © 2005 Dwayne Newton |
|
We haven’t much longer in Arugam Bay; Dwayne and I leave tomorrow, to travel up the country’s hard-hit east coast. It’s tough to go. There are a hundred stories here — but there are hundreds of stories everywhere in Sri Lanka right now. Mercy Corps is doing great work in the Pottuvil area — providing generators, helping the fishing community rebuild their boats (and reweave their nets), setting up cash-for-work programs, and distributing sport kits, school supplies, and other items. But they’ve got enough money, and some of the locals are more concerned about the future than the present. Before she left Arugam Bay to return to her posting in Darfur, Susan Romanski spoke with one washed-out hotel owner. What he said to her seems strange, but I suspect it’s probably true. “If people really want to help,” the man said, “Tell them not to send us money. Better they should put that money away — and use it to come back here, as tourists, next year.” * * * © 2005 by Jeff Greenwald http://www.ethicaltraveler.org/aid_disp.php?disp=5 |
Yearly Archive for 2005
Page 3 of 3
|
Jan 15, 2005 – Toy Story (part II) POTTUVIL, SRI LANKA – To a lot of people, the image of relief agencies in developing countries is the image of giant Toyota Land Cruisers, churning down a dirt road with the windows rolled up and four grim foreign aid workers staring out the windows. That preconception is instantly shattered by Mercy Corps’ official vehicles in Arugam Bay: two three-wheeled tuk-tuks, sporting the Mercy Corps bumper sticker and emblazoned with three of Sri Lanka’s religious icons: Lord Buddha, Lord Rama, and Mickey Mouse. Lyn, Harshana and I spend the morning driving from one welfare center to another, trying to find out where our toys and sport kits would be most welcome. At each camp we meet the grama niladari, or group leader, responsible for coordinating each center’s supplies. These are always men, supervising a governing committee of men and women. Sometimes the GNs are individuals who were prominent before the tsunami, sometimes not. In one camp, the GN is an older man who displayed great heroism and selflessness during and after the flood. Our first thought was that we’d deliver a load of toys to the 102 kids at the camp called Savalai. But as well pull up, the children congregating around us are clutching floppy rabbits and German shepherds. The Red Cross passed through just yesterday, emptying a truckload of used stuffed animals. The GN of Savalai is a 48-year-old fisherman named Miran Lebe. When I first visited this camp last week, Lebe was wild-eyed and raging; I thought he was the village idiot. The fact, Harshana explains, is that he was still in shock. “We have enough for our children,” declares Lebe. “Give what you have to the other camps.” Before we go, though, he corners Harshana. “We could use some kerosene lanterns,” he whispers, “to keep the wild elephants away.” We’ll keep our toys, but we do want to offer a sports kit, for the older kids. In this respect, we face a dilemma: which kit to deliver? We quickly work out a system. The decision will be made by a committee — of kids. A call goes out through the camp, and about two dozen children, boys and girls age 8-12, are gathered together. Prompted by Harshana, they vote with a show of hands: soccer balls, volleyballs and nets, or cricket sets? We expect soccer (or football, as it’s known here) to be the runaway winner, and it is — but there’s also a huge demand for the Frisbees. Who knew? Our second stop is a camp located behind the local mosque, not far from the beach. Our gifts are welcome here, and we hand out stuffed toys and rubber balls in a gleeful but orderly ceremony. Most of the recipients are very young, and there are many babes-in-arms. The baby girls wear beautiful, dangly gold earrings, giving them a look of precocious sophistication. The wisdom of wearing jewelry suddenly seems very clear. Sometimes, the only wealth you can hang on to is what’s pierced through your earlobes, and fastened around your neck. As we prepare to leave, the GN approaches Lyn, and asks for the one item most desperately needed by the camp: cooking kits. As things stand, there are so few pots that ten families must cook their rice in shifts. It’s becoming a serious problem, with obvious repercussions. “If we don’t eat,” the GN says dryly, “we don’t play.” * * * |
|
|
When the tsunami receded, one of the few structures left standing — more or less — was a popular hotel called the Siam View. During that first terrible week, after the tsunami, before the first relief shipments arrived, the owner of this place — Fred Miller, who has lived in Sri Lanka nearly 30 years — fed the entire community with provisions from their copious freezers (their generator needed only small repairs to function). Miller is keeping up the practice — providing excellent Sri Lankan curries to the scores of local and foreign relief workers. Soft drinks, ice cold, are included. It’s an oasis of Heaven in a vast expanse of hell — and the cost to all comers is zero (though donations are more than welcome). It’s a terrific example of how the community has banded together, and a good place to see signs of optimism. After lunch we leave Arugam Bay and drive north, heading through spectacular wetlands teeming with egrets, eagles, kingfishers and ibis. Oxcarts heave to the side to let us by. Our destination is the large camp called Komari, settled by refugees who came from a devastated village still further north. We’d heard awful things about Komari — that it was ignored, impoverished, and off the radar of the relief agencies. As we approach, we begin to suspect otherwise. The tents are spacious, and set well apart; there are decent roads into the compound; and the view of the river is spectacular. As we drive in, we see about 100 kids sitting quietly under an open-air tent, watching The Lion King Clearly, there’s been an intelligence problem here. This camp seems to have it all; there’s fruit punch, hard candies, everything but buttered popcorn. On discussion with the GN, though, the initial reports are confirmed. The generator-operated DVD player is a special treat, provided by an expat Sri Lankan from Australia. Otherwise, the kids have virtually nothing to keep them busy: no toys, no games, no flying discs. We have no toys for the nearly 600 children in Komari, but we will give them a sport kit. The word goes out for a children’s meeting, and the response is electric. The kids leap up from The Lion King, and form two groups — boys and girls — around us. Harshana takes center stage, and conducts the poll. “How many for cricket!” he demands. The boys’ hands fly up. “How many for volleyball?” The girls’ hands wave. “And how many for football?” This time, every hand in the group shoots into the air. The choice seems clear — but there are hundreds of kids. Lyn, Harshana and I exchange a look, and shrug. Ten minutes later, we witness what must be the most satisfying sight one can see in the world of disaster relief. Scores of formerly listless kids are running and shouting in an open field, their football and cricket games in full swing. Some distance away, the Sri Lankan Army’s Special Task Force is helping set up the volleyball net. We leave before the inevitable happens, and the Frisbee ends up on someone’s roof. * * * |
|
|
We haven’t much longer in Arugam Bay; Dwayne and I leave tomorrow, to travel up the country’s hard-hit east coast. It’s tough to go. There are a hundred stories here — but there are hundreds of stories everywhere in Sri Lanka right now. Mercy Corps is doing great work in the Pottuvil area — providing generators, helping the fishing community rebuild their boats (and reweave their nets), setting up cash-for-work programs, and distributing sport kits, school supplies, and other items. But they’ve got enough money, and some of the locals are more concerned about the future than the present. Before she left Arugam Bay to return to her posting in Darfur, Susan Romanski spoke with one washed-out hotel owner. What he said to her seems strange, but I suspect it’s probably true. “If people really want to help,” the man said, “Tell them not to send us money. Better they should put that money away — and use it to come back here, as tourists, next year.” * * * © 2005 by Jeff Greenwald http://www.ethicaltraveler.org/aid_disp.php?disp=5 |
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Dispatch 5: Toy Story 2
15 January 2005
To a lot of people, the image of relief agencies in developing countries is the image of giant Toyota Land Cruisers, churning down a dirt road with the windows rolled up and four grim foreign aid workers staring out the windows. That preconception is instantly shattered by Mercy Corps’ official vehicles in Arugam Bay: two three-wheeled tuk-tuks, sporting the Mercy Corps bumper sticker and emblazoned with three of Sri Lanka’s religious icons: Lord Buddha, Lord Rama, and Mickey Mouse.
Lyn, Harshana and I spend the morning driving from one welfare center to another, trying to find out where our toys and sport kits would be most welcome. At each camp we meet the grama niladari, or group leader, responsible for coordinating each center’s supplies. These are always men, supervising a governing committee of men and women. Sometimes the GN s are individuals who were prominent before the tsunami, sometimes not. In one camp, the GN is an older man displayed great heroism and selflessness during and after the flood.
Our first thought was that we’d deliver a load of toys to the 102 kids at the camp called Savalai. But as well pull up, the children congregating around us are clutching floppy rabbits and German shepherds. The Red Cross passed through just yesterday, emptying a truckload of used stuffed animals.
The GN of Savalai is a 48-year-old fisherman named Miran Lebe. When I first visited this camp last week, Lebe was wild-eyed and raging; I thought he was the village idiot. The fact, Harshana explains, is that he was still in shock.
“We have enough for our children” declares Lebe. “Give what you have to the other camps” Before we go, though, he corners Harshana. “We could use some kerosene lanterns,” he whispers, “to keep the wild elephants away.”
We’ll keep our toys, but we do want to offer a sports kit, for the older kids. In this respect, we face a dilemma: which kit to deliver? We quickly work out a system. The decision will be made by a committee – of kids. A call goes out through the camp, and about two dozen children, boys and girls age 8-12, are gathered together. Prompted by Harshana, they vote with a show of hands: soccer balls, volleyballs and nets, or cricket sets? We expect soccer (or football, as it’s known here) to be the runaway winner, and it is – but there’s also a huge demand for the Frisbees. Who knew?
Our second stop is a camp located behind the local mosque, not far from the beach. Our gifts are welcome here, and we hand out stuffed toys and rubber balls in a gleeful but orderly ceremony. Most of the recipients are very young, and there are many babes-in-arms. The baby girls wear beautiful, dangly gold earrings, giving them a look of precocious sophistication. The wisdom of wearing jewelry suddenly seems very clear. Sometimes, the only wealth you can hang on to is what’s pierced through your earlobes, and fastened around your neck.
As we prepare to leave, the GN approaches Lyn, and asks for the one item most desperately needed by the camp: cooking kits. As things stand, there are so few pots that ten families must cook their rice in shifts. It’s becoming a serious problem, with obvious repercussions. “If we don’t eat,” the GN says dryly, “we don’t play.”
* * *
When the tsunami receded, one of the few structures left standing – more or less – was a popular hotel called the Siam View. During that first terrible week, after the tsunami, before the first relief shipments arrived, the owner of this place – Fred Miller, who has lived in Sri Lanka nearly 30 years – fed the entire community with provisions from their copious freezers (their generator needed only small repairs to function). Miller is keeping up the practice – providing excellent Sri Lankan curries to the scores of local and foreign relief workers. Soft drinks, ice cold, are included. It’s an oasis of Heaven in a vast expanse of hell — and the cost to all comers is zero (though donations are more than welcome). It’s a terrific example of how the community has banded together, and a good place to see signs of optimism.
After lunch we leave Arugam Bay and drive north, heading through spectacular wetlands teeming with egrets, eagles, kingfishers and ibis. Oxcarts heave to the side to let us by. Our destination is the large camp called Komari, settled by refugees who came from a devastated village still further north.
We’d heard awful things about Komari -that it was ignored, impoverished, and off the radar of the relief agencies. As we approach, we begin to suspect otherwise. The tents are spacious, and set well apart; there are decent roads into the compound; and the view of the river is spectacular. As we drive in, we see about 100 kids sitting quietly under an open-air tent, watching The Lion King on television.
Clearly, there’s been an intelligence problem here. This camp seems to have it all; there’s fruit punch, hard candies, everything but buttered popcorn. On discussion with the GN, though, the initial reports are confirmed. The generator-operated DVD player is a special treat, provided by an expat Sri Lankan from Australia. Otherwise, the kids have virtually nothing to keep them busy: no toys, no games, no flying discs.
We have no toys for the nearly 600 children in Komari, but we will give them a sport kit. The word goes out for a children’s meeting, and the response is electric. The kids leap up from The Lion King, and form two groups – boys and girls -around us. Harshana takes center stage, and conducts the poll.
“How many for cricket!” he demands.
The boys’ hands fly up.
“How many for volleyball?” The girls’ hands wave.
“And how many for football?” This time, every hand in the group shoots into the air. The choice seems clear – but there are hundreds of kids. Lyn, Harshana and I exchange a look, and shrug.
Ten minutes later, we witness what must be the most satisfying sight one can see in the world of disaster relief. Scores of formerly listless kids are running and shouting in an open field, their football and cricket games in full swing. Some distance away, the Sri Lankan Army’s Special Task Force is helping set up the volleyball net.
We leave before the inevitable happens, and the Frisbee ends up on someone’s roof.
* * *
We haven’t much longer in Arugam Bay; Dwayne and I leave tomorrow, to travel up the country’s hard-hit east coast. It’s tough to go. There are a hundred stories here — but there are hundreds of stories everywhere in Sri Lanka right now.
Mercy Corps is doing great work in the Pottuvil area – providing generators, helping the fishing community rebuild their boats (and reweave their nets), setting up cash-for-work programs, and distributing sport kits, school supplies, and other items. But they’ve got enough money, and some of the locals are more concerned about the future than the present.
Before she left Arugam Bay to return to her posting in Darfur, Susan Romanski spoke with one washed-out hotel owner. What he said to her seems strange, but I suspect it’s probably true.
“If people really want to help,” the man said, “Tell them not to send us money. Better they should put that money away – and use it to come back here, as tourists, next year.”
* * * * *
Published on 1/24/05
source:
http://www.thingsasian.com/stories-photos/3187
For years, this bohemian beach town on scenic Arugam Bay was a colorful stamping ground for surfing fanatics, backpackers and pot-smoking Rastafarians in dreadlocks and Bob Marley T-shirts.
They drank at bars alongside local fishermen and rice farmers. About 60 thatch-roofed resorts and eateries such as the Aloha, Hang Loose Hotel and Cool Spot restaurant — run mostly by Sri Lankans — lined a busy thoroughfare where motorcycles buzzed past ox carts appearing like holdovers from another time.
Goodwill alive and well after disaster
photo taken 25/Dec./ 2004 -The night before. Showing The Bank of Ceylon branch at the Siam View Hotel.
JOHN M. GLIONNA
ULLE, SRI lANKA, JANUARY 14 For years, this bohemian beach town on scenic Arugam Bay was a colourful stamping ground for surfing fanatics, backpackers and pot-smoking Rastafarians in dreadlocks and Bob Marley T-shirts.
They drank at bars alongside local fishermen and rice farmers. About 60 thatch-roofed resorts and eateries such as the Aloha, Hang Loose Hotel and Cool Spot restaurant — run mostly by Sri Lankans — lined a busy thoroughfare where motorcycles buzzed past ox carts appearing like holdovers from another time.
Then the tsunami struck, turning this hip little resort into a rubble-strewn wasteland. More than 1,000 of the village’s 6,000 residents are dead along with many tourists. A thousand residents are missing — ‘‘taken by the sea,’’ as the locals say.
Only three hotels remain — The Ali, Mermaid’s Village, Dean’s Place and Rustling Palms. The ghostly ruins of the Stardust have been left to sink into the sand. Its owner, a Dane named Peer Goodman, drowned in the water. Amid the adversity that would drive away some less determined entrepreneurs, the few hotel owners whose buildings survived have become the town’s ambassadors of goodwill.
Places such as the Hideaway, a grand turn-of-the-century house surrounded by several thatched cabanas, have turned themselves into free-of-charge headquarters for foreign doctors and relief workers, journalists and Sri Lankan military men.
At the Siam View Hotel, the French Red Cross has set up a clinic and pharmacy at the site of a former Internet cafe, where each night at the second-floor bar, beers are tapped from warm kegs and relief workers, reporters and others anxiously keep up with the developments of the international relief effort on cable TV.
As the relief workers and physicians arrive from around the globe, those Sri Lankans who have the means to do so — natives as well as transplants — have made the newcomers feel welcome.
At the Hideaway, which has seen its share of damage, two cabanas and acres of gardens were lost to the rush of water. The waves washed up on the grand front porch, turning the once-secluded resort into beachfront property. Now, electricity is scarce and owner Vernon Tissera can afford to run his generator for only a few hours each day.
But rather than gouge visitors, the Hideaway has thrown away the bill. Three times a day, a local chef working for the Tisseras serves up spicy Sri Lankan delicacies and gourmet meals to people who are little more than strangers.
The hotel’s Toyota Land Cruiser is one of the few remaining privately owned vehicles in this town.
Now the vehicle has become a makeshift taxi, and Tissera, his two sons and grandson ferry relief workers and supplies to and from the beachhead. The Tisseras have enlisted a dozen villagers, homeless and unemployed after the tsunami, to help put the hotel back together. ‘‘We need to help people — you can’t be material-minded,’’ said Marlene Tissera, Vernon’s wife.
Relief workers say such hospitality makes a difficult job more do-able. ‘‘It makes it a pleasure to do this,’’ said Mark Stinson, a San Francisco-area doctor working with Relief International who is a guest at the Hideaway.
At the Siam View Hotel, which is playing host to the French Red Cross, agency nurse Jean-Michel Pin likens owner Manfred Netzband-Miller to Mother Teresa. ‘‘Without him, we’d be living in tents, or worse,’’ Pin said.
Still, Marlene Tissera has a hard time fathoming how the waves that once drew so many tourists here have transformed the tropical paradise. ‘‘We’re just shattered, all of us,’’ she said. When she talks about the destructive wall of water, Angela Mitchell’s eyes widen. Just before 9 am on December 26, the Hideaway manager recalls, she heard people shouting: ‘‘The sea is coming! The sea is coming!’’ And the tourists and villagers came too, in droves, fleeing the oncoming wave.
More than 100 stood on the roof of the old hotel. Mitchell, a 54-year-old native, moved the crowd and several vehicles behind the building for more protection. Her plan worked: No one at the Hideaway was killed.
Hotel owners such as Vernon Tissera promise to rebuild both their own land and the town.
Down at the Siam View, owner Netzband-Miller embodies the keep-on-partying spirit of the old Ulle. — LAT-
http://www.lankalibrary.com/news/arugambay3.htm
(0)Canada’s Disaster Assistance Response Team finally rolled into Ampara, Sri Lanka, on Monday, bringing medical supplies, water-purification equipment and food to survivors of the Dec. 26 tsunami.
About 130 members of the military team got off a bus in the stricken village shortly before 8 p.m. local time, four days after leaving CFB Trenton.
Cpl. Warren Reid, from Nfld, buys drinks from a vendor during a break in travel as the DART team deploys in Sri Lanka, Monday. (CP photo)
DART’s home base during the six-week deployment will be in an old sugar factory in Ampara, about 30 kilometres away from the worst-hit area.An advance team of about 50 members had earlier arrived in the region to begin figuring out what DART’s role will be as the region struggles to recover.
- FROM JAN. 6, 2005: DART departs for Sri Lankan mission
“There are a number of clinics that the local government wants us to help with,” one team member told CBC. “We’ll put our doctors right in those clinics.”Small units of the bigger DART team will form satellite teams and travel to towns and villages up to a day’s drive from Ampara to set up auxiliary hospitals.
They will offer medical services to people who still haven’t had their wounds treated after being tossed around in dirty, debris-choked sea water more than two weeks ago.
DART also has the capacity to produce 200,000 litres of clean water each day.
That will be a welcome commodity in a region where salt water has flooded into fresh water supplies and uncollected bodies of tsunami victims are still being found in rivers.
The soldiers will also offer themselves as sources of labour, to do whatever they can to start rebuilding destroyed structures in the community.
see the original article:
http://www.cbc.ca/world/story/2005/01/10/dart-tsunami-disaster050110.htmlÂ
It took them two days to arrive, but Canada’s Disaster Assistance Response Team landed in Sri Lanka’s capital Saturday, eager and ready to depart for a 200-kilometre journey to Ampara, which was severely devastated on Dec. 26.The 200-member elite military corps is scheduled to head for Ampara, located on the island’s southeast coast, on Monday, bringing with them enough supplies to fill five cargo planes.
That trip over damaged roads is expected to take 12 hours.
Unloading the DART, Colombo, Sri Lanka.
Survivors in Ampara eagerly await the team’s arrival and the arrival of desperately needed medicine and water purification units that are capable of cleaning up to 200,000 litres of salty or polluted water a day.While water purification remains DART’s main focus, the team will be essential in providing medical care and in helping rebuilding efforts in a region where complete fishing villages disappeared under water, and where some people lost complete families.
More than 30,000 Sri Lankans died in the earthquake and tsunami disaster two weeks ago and 800,000 were left homeless.
DART, which was greeted at Colombo airport by Federal Health Minister Ujal Dosanjh, says its prepared to face the devastation in Ampara. Some members quietly criticized the Canadian government for delaying the team’s deployment.
“We could have been here earlier but everyone is doing as they’re told and we’re doing it in a timely manner,” said one team member upon arrival in Sri Lanka.
DART’s assignment in Sri Lanka is expected to last six weeks at a cost of $20 million.
see the original article:
http://www.cbc.ca/world/story/2005/01/08/dart-colombo050108.html#skip300x250
Oprah Winfrey (search) has hired a group of ex-Marines to search for “Oprah” regular Nate Berkus’ (search) friend, Fernando Bengoechea (search), who was swept away in the Dec. 26 tsunami.
According to “Extra,” the team of former Marines will travel to the resort town of Arugam Bay, Sri Lanka, where Berkus and Bengoechea were vacationing when the tsunami (search) hit.
Berkus reportedly met the ex-Marines and gave them details, including Bengoechea’s exact location when the tsunami hit.
Harpo Productions, Winfrey’s production company, also plans to send a producer to join Berkus in Arugam Bay, according to “Extra” — leading to speculation that Winfrey will feature some aspect of the search and tsunami on an upcoming episode of “Oprah.”
Berkus, a Chicago-based interior designer, has appeared frequently on “Oprah” and has designed interiors for Barneys New York, W Hotels and other high-end establishments.
A Harpo spokeswoman said she couldn’t confirm the “Extra” story.
SVH Team: Fred & Somlak
More options 01:35 (17 hours ago)
SUNBEACH HOTEL
GALLE ROAD, NARIGAMA, HIKKADUWA, SRI LANKA
TSUNAMI STORY 0915 hrs 26 December 2004
The Tsunami hit Sunbeach Hotel at 9.15 on Boxing Day. We had 41 family and friends who were staying at Sunbeach and in other neighbouring hotels – Moonbeam, Golden Sands, Sunil‘s Beach & Casalanka. By that time of day most people would have been at the market in the sea or along the beach. However the night before we had had a wonderful Christmas meal and party that had gone on late so most people were just getting up. Many were in their rooms or in the gardens between the hotel and the beach. Murray was swimming in the sea and his daughter Eve (15) was surfing in front of the hotel. Sharon and Jill were walking some way along the beach.
The height of the wave generated by the Tsunami is determined by the shoreline. Sunbeach benefited from being on a long fairly straight stretch of beach. As the Tsunami approached it appeared that the tide was coming in very fast. It quickly passed the high tide mark and started pulling out sunloungers and deckchairs. At first a few people laughed as they tried to rescue the furniture. Then they started screaming as the water kept coming faster and deeper. The staff and guests raised the alarm.
The following events took place over 60 seconds.
Waiter Chandana and chef Anura ran down the Sunbeach hotel corridor banging on doors to get out the guests and staff. They probably saved many lives. Meanwhile guests already outside having breakfast ran through the garden shouting. We ran along the garden path to the road or out of the hotel rooms along the corridor as it filled up with water and debris. As we ran furniture was crashing into us and the water depth rose to our waists. As we left the front garden onto the road the hotel gate was forced shut by the power of the water leaving several staff and Rob trapped in the garden between the hotel and the gate. Rob was trying to re-enter the hotel unsure at to whether his children had escaped. The corridors of the hotel became impassable with furniture and wreckage. The whole of the rear of the hotel and all the boundary walls except the roadside wall collapsed. All the contents of the hotel were destroyed.
Next door at Golden Sands Hotel Vicky was trying to get her boys Charlie (10) and George (8) from their rooms to safety. As she ran through the corridor holding Charlie‘s hand Charlie was swept away by the wave and crashed against furniture before being caught by one of the staff. George was trapped in his room until Andrew broke it down and rescued him
Jill and Sharon were half a mile along the beach. They were overrun by the wave and struggled through a hotel garden to the road where they saw people waving from a first floor balcony. Jill was swept off her feet but she was helped to safety to the balcony followed by Sharon.
Eve was surfing in front of Sunbeach. Due to the quick thinking of an Italian canoeist nearby she was persuaded to sit it out as they watched the devastation from the sea. She was able to get back in safely as the first tidal surge went back out. Murray too had a difficult time getting out of the water and has some injuries from debris as he struggled to get upright but was taken from the beach right through to the main road by the water. Claire, Rosie and Jamie had to endure a horrendous wait to locate them both.
At Moonbeam Phil and Jan were able to get Natalie (14) and Georgia (14) out the hotel and safely into the jungle onto high ground, along with other children.
Others from our party gathered our children from the beach area and into the jungle. The surge of water went across the road into the jungle as far as the railway line about 700 yards away.
It then receded out many hundreds of yards exposing the reef. There were a further 5 surges over the next few hours each one of diminishing strength.
All 41 of our party were eventually safe and found sanctuary with Sri Lankan friends on a hill 1 kilometre from the beach. For some of us we didn‘t know our children were safe for 90 minutes.
Mean while a mile along the beach the wave overwhelmed the village market and over 1000 were killed. On any other Sunday we and our guests would have been amongst them. A little further out of the village the rail track was destroyed and a train derailed. 1400 people died. 7 miles south in Galle the bus station was overwhelmed by a 40 foot wave. Over 2000 people died there and in nearby schools and hospitals.
Most of the rest of Sunday was spent finding safe accommodation with local friends. There were constant rumours of further waves but no hard information as we had no radio or TV. At one point the rumours were so strong that we evacuated all the children further into the jungle in a truck.
Electricity and the phone system were down although most of us were able to contact our families by mobile phone. Shopping trips were hastily organised to jungle shacks to find candles and bottled water.
On Monday after a sleepless and fearful night we managed to find enough transport to evacuate half our party with the youngest children. The area quickly ran out of food and transport and fuel. We were fed and looked after by our staff and other local friends.
They continued to stay with us in spite of knowing that their own families were in danger and deeply traumatised. Chaminda‘s mother had been rescued up to her neck in water. Two of our sri lankan staff have lost family members: one his mother & sister who are missing, presumed dead, at the market in Hikkaduwa town, and the other his grandmother in Ambalangoda just north of us.
We were also trying to contact friends who were on the east coast which was very badly effected. We have now got through to one of them Fred at the Siam View Hotel. He told us that several people we know died in Arugam Bay including Cairo, the 8 year old son of an American friend Richard Brassard and Per Goodman the owner of the Stardust Guest House.
Over the following 3 days we tried to locate fuel and vans to evacuate our party from the area. We managed to get some fuel from the High Commission who had set up a centre in Galle. We told them about a local Brit with a broken pelvis lying in a house nearby in the jungle. He was eventually evacuated by helicopter three days later.
We managed to get the last party out on Wednesday and travelled up the coast to Colombo to get flights out of the country.
To see the aftermath we wonder at our good fortune at having all of our group alive and safe with no serious injuries except the emotional trauma of the experience. Now we wish to return the exceptional kindness shown by the Sri Lankan people and help where possible.
Family, Friends & Guests of Sunbeach Hotel, who were there on 26 December 04 & all of whom are safe and well:
Jo Sheehan, Richard Rogers, Alex Webb, Georgia Webb, Liz Agiss,
Joe Murray, Rachel Lewis, Andrew Baker, Sharon Webber, Dave Rose, Mandy Rose, Roger Ely, Fenella Bosomworth, Jan Hall, Phil Hall, Natalie Hall, Nicky Sheehan, Neil Butler, Rob Small, Anna Delaney, Katie Boniface,
Laura Boniface, Michael Boniface, Maria Boniface, Kyle Harrison,
Damien Harrison, Lawrence Harrison, Veronica Harrison, Murray Johnstone, Claire Johnstone, Jamie Johnstone, Evie Johnstone, Rosie Johnstone,
Jill Morrell, Vicky Pearson, Charlie Pearson, George Pearson, Sheryl Hall, Martin Kinsella, Jerry Callow, Alessandra Petucco, Christina Gordon,
Tim Gordon.
How you can help
We are setting up a private fund to support the local communities of Dodanduwa & Hikkaduwa, fundraising amongst family and friends and previous visitors to Sunbeach.
Many of our staff and local friends come from these communities including our Manager Chaminda Pandithage.
Dodanduwa is Chaminda‘s home village and he is a leader of the village committee that supports the local community in many ways. They raise funds for people who have suffered loss, organise the yearly carnival and last year raised funds and distributed food to flood victims.
The village is very poor with most people earning their living by fishing or travelling to other towns including Colombo to work. Most earn between £200 – £450 a year. Now they cannot travel as the railway has been destroyed and they cannot fish as much of the fleet was wrecked. Many people lost their homes.
Chaminda and his committee will identify people in most need and distribute purchased goods and funds.
Sunbeach started it with £500 and Mike Rowan (Big Rory) has raised £2500 in Australia.
Many of our friends who have visited Sunbeach have already committed further funds.
The first money has gone to providing food parcels. £500 will feed 2000 people for one day.
We expect to help provide medicine, temporary and later permanent accommodation and then help the fishermen re-establish their businesses.
We are working with Chaminda to provide a shopping list and a reporting system so that people can see what their money is providing.
We are looking at the most efficient way of setting up, managing and auditing the fund.
Details of the account will be posted here in the next few days – week of 3rd January 2005.
The new account will be administered by an independent accountant and details of monies raised and expenditure will be updated on this website.
Alternatively you could donate money to an appropriate international aid agency, details can be found on the internet.
Neil and Nicky expect to be returning to Sri Lanka shortly to support Chaminda in developing the fund and identifying other ways we can support the community in getting back on its feet.
One of the best ways anyone can support the local economy is to return to the island as visitors. We will post information on health and safety issues in the area as we receive it.
Please forward this link to friends and family. www.sunbeachsurf.com Thankyou
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