Jayachandran-My friends from Nagapattanam after the Tsunami

Jayachandran K
Jan 14th to 21st 2005

I have now spent almost 10 days at the Tsunami affected places. I have proved myself wrong in thinking that if all funds from various organizations and the government reached the affected people it would be sufficient in rebuilding their lives. The scale of devastation is unimaginable. My first visit from 28th Dec was to the relief camps, which only gave me a chance to hear the horror stories of the victims. During my second visit from 15th Jan I was at Akkraipettai, Keechankuppam the most affected parts in Tamilnadu. I work with a NGO called SUYAM (Hindi equivalent to SWAYAM). Suyam with its limited resource I should say that they are making a difference at these place mentioned.

These are few of the activities being carried out by SUYAM:

>Providing food for more than 500 people daily (remember people still haven’t got neither their livelihood nor their homes)
> Getting the schools back to shape so that they can house children during day time and avoid their continued trauma at the relief camps. There are more than half a dozen schools that we are reaching to.
> Involving the local volunteers in cleaning up the place in the wake of epidemics (recently 2 deaths reported in the affected area in the district due to chicken pox)
> Reaching out to the injured in the hospitals and trying to find a way incase they need treatment outside with specialists.
>Organizing the distribution of relief materials that reach us from other NGOs and corporate bodies.
We also have other long-term plans.

Here more than telling you what we are doing at the site I thought of sharing few of my experience.

AKKARAIPETTAI was the word I first heard from NDTV on a news report by Barkha Dutt on 26th Dec. After which this place has been flashed on numerous dailies and talked over on various channels but I wonder still why this place hasn’t seen a private entity to help building their temporary shelters. May be this is because this place has close to 2000 families and on an average each family has 5-8 members. Government is building temprorary shelter but people say it is far from their village and it would be difficult for their rehabilitation in their village. There are other places like Samathanpettai and Kameshwaram in the same area getting help from Mata Amritamayi & Lucas TVS in building temporary shelters, I felt someone needs to put Akkaraipettai and Keechankuppam in the radar for help. They need more and what has been done is a very little percentage of what can be done.

This place Akkaraipettai that I am talking about had once 1800 boats or more. On an average a boat costs somewhere in between 15 to 25 lacks. Why talk of the boats alone, each of the boats had nets at least a couple or more (the nets costs from Rs.50000 to Rs.150000). This is supposedly the largest fishing hamlet in Tamilnadu. If each boat employs on an average 8 people (5 fisherman + people who sell these fish in the markets, other dependant) we are talking about close to 80000 people (8*6*1800 =people employed*average members in a family*number of boats) dependant on fishing in this village alone. It is said that only 3 of the 1800 boats were in a usable state after the Tsunami had hit.

A Fisherman’s life I realized was in general a tough one. We(volunteers and the local fishermen) would have a chat in between work or during our meal about how they would venture into the sea and talk of different things from their love life to their little fans club for various cine artists. The local volunteers working with us are of average age of 25.

On my first visit I would wonder how big all these fishermen families were!! A 7-9 member family is something that is common. As I talked I realized they could never be sure of the bread earner when he ventured into the sea. There were many such cases I personally encountered where the children would take up the fishing job when his father is dead or unable to go to the sea. I can remember this one case of Arulmani. He used to study well, top his class till fifth standard. He was even part of the Arivoli Iyakkam (A movement in Tamilnadu to spread the importance of education in rural places). As his father fell ill he and his brother had to discontinue their study to take up fishing. Now he is just 8th standard pass out and his brother has studied till 9th.

It was even more astonishing to hear about how they would venture into the sea and how much of investment was required. On an average to go into the sea for 4 days they had to spend somewhere close to Rs.17000 for diesel, Ice for storage and food materials for 6 members. They carry with them around 600 liters of diesel with them for 4 days. And when they come back with the catch 70% of the catch goes to the owner of the boat who spends the 17000 Rupees that I mentioned and 30% is shared among the 6 people who go into the sea. When the catch is little, they are paid Rs.50 for 4 days. The catch can be somewhere between Rs.2000 to Rs.2 lack.
On an average they come back with somewhere between Rs.20000 and Rs.30000 catch. So imagine these are people who always have money with them either spending on themselves or on their business.

There are other stories of brave young people who have survived and saved other lives. Bhaskar was one such guy who survived the Tsunami clinging to a palm tree. It was about 9 O’clock in the morning when he was talking to his friend that Tsuanmi had hit his village. He saw big boats being thrown into the wind.He would say it was like some thousand trucks rushing towards him. He saw few small kids who were playing cricket struggling to run. He just managed to catch two of the kids that the waves hit him. The two of the children clung to him and he said the waves were like a big roller taking everything on its way. He would then say that because of those two kids he survived as both of them caught him on front and dorsal side and took the hit when they rolled over with the wave. Bhaskar just managed to catch a palm tree that he found that he already lost one of the kids. As Bhaskar felt the body weight of the other kid clinging on to him from behind he tried to reach him and get him on the tree. By then the kid fell down and his body was taken by the wave that was retreating. As the waved retreated Bhaskar says he was almost over the half the palm trees height. After this frightening incident he still managed to save another guy who was badly injured.

Bhaskar says,” It is during this time of the year that they have a good season for fishing. He says they would eat more on the sea (on the boat) than on the land, may be because they cook their food themselves on the sea.” On 21stJan as Nagappattam weather was pleasant cloudy and windy he would say “normally it would be humid and there would be no wind this part of the year. All his friends and many in the village would go to the beach and sleep during the nights” he smiles and then says” don’t know if we can again do what we used to do at the beach”.

I can’t stop mentioning here a sarcastic comment from a fisherman folk who himself had his property damaged. He said, “ If the Tsunami had to hit another couple of times there would be little or no parity between the rich and poor along the coastline”

Among the tragic stories we also tend to hear a couple of miracles. During a visit to the Tanjore Government Hospital we came across girl child "Jeevika". She is going to kindergarten school now. She was almost one girl who was making the entire ward of tsunami hit patients laugh and enjoy with her songs and dance. While she was singing and dancing for our camera little did we know that she was with her father playing on the beach sand when the Tsunami had hit. Her father is on a near-by bed taking treatment for his badly injured leg and stomach. He narrates how after the Tsunami wave he rescued his child lying on a thorn bush in an unconscious state. She was taken to Nagapattanam Government Hospital and the doctors warned that she would die soon. Jeevika giving her parents a torrid time worse than the tsunami lay unconscious for 5 days. Then her condition improved. Now she is hale and healthy. She is the only happiness to the parents who have lost everything. They still thank god for giving them back their JEEVIKA.(I now think isn’t the name well suited to the child-"a child full of life"-jeevika)

All these people are real superheroes and most of them are now volunteering to work for us. Most of these young men who are in the relief work have their own tragic story to tell. They have lost their boats, their house and few their loved ones and still they are ready to work to get their village back as normal.

There are people who are trying to reach out to these nice brave people. Help in kind, monetary funds and in person is reaching Suyam from far and wide of India and the world. But to these people who have lost everything as one of them says they have been pushed 50 years behind, what has reached them is very little. These people are so warm even at this juncture. As I wait for the train to Chennai Bhaskar hands over to me a Cadbury chocolate bar. He is expecting things to change through all of us.

Dr. Jean Lieu - Jan 10,2005 Nagapattinam

January 10, 2005
I'm sitting in the Suyam office, exhausted and huddled in a sweater for warmth. Even though it was 80 degrees outside, I felt fevers and chills. But there were miles and miles to go before I sleep, more to do before my flight back to the US. Ripu noted that I didn't look too well and suggested that I stayed at the office to rest. I refused and made him take me along to complete all the errands we still needed to do. As we went from shop to shop looking for a vendor to convert our raw footage onto DVD, I fought from passing out on the streets. I was almost home. I had to hold on. If I needed to be in a hospital, it would be in the States near my family and friends, not in a foreign country where everything was so unfamiliar. I couldn't wait to return to the amenities of life in the States. I'd give anything for a hot shower or bath and to sleep on my own comfortable bed. I could sleep for a month! The food here is starting to irritate my stomach, making me nauseous and very uncomfortable. There is so much oil, lard and grease since everything is fried. I'd killed for a good bowl of warm pho or canh chua right now!!

Despite my present discomfort, I think I've done some good here-not as much as I wished I had. I might not have effected much change in India, but India has effected great change in me. I wanted to loose myself in India. Instead, I discovered strength and conviction, friendship and compassion. I discovered an entire world, an entire horizon that I never would have otherwise discovered in this lifetime. But saying goodbye was hard. Although we've only spent a short time together, we've created bonds that will last a lifetime. We all share a common goal, a common purpose--one common heart beat. In our own ways, we sought to make the world a better place, to do what we can to contribute to humanity. I think we've succeeded in some small regards. It's impossible to effect change on our own but our collective effort create ripples in the water, and together, all ripples effect change in the vast ocean of life. It is when we no longer have desire to effect change that we are no longer making a difference. We might never see the fruits of our efforts in our lifetime but I am certain that we have done some good here. Together, our efforts have added to the collective whole. If we are able to effect change, to create a better world for posterity, then we must take action. And that is exactly what we have done so very wholeheartedly here in India, together, regardless of where we were from. I have never seen more heart than I have seen here. And I am fortunate to have been a part of it all.

Riputapan -He works with ST Microelectronics,his experience

Alarmed by the death toll & propelled by media, I reached Tamil Nadu to provide help in whatever way I could. Not knowing Tamil was an initial hinderance but as the days passed, I picked up Tamil & tuned my abilities to help the Tsunami victims”.

“The first thing that I realized on coming here was that the extent of damage and its impact over a long term much more than what one would guess watching TV or reading news papers”.

“It was wonderful to see hundreds of NGOs working together for the cause with timely assistance from Government. But having said that, its important to mention here that there was a greater need to streamline operations of the NGO’s to avoid redundancy and maximize resource utilization. Also, most of the aid is being given to NGO’s who are providing food / provisions / medical facilities. However, its important to note that even the Government is providing these things and within 10 days of the disaster, food, shelter (temporary) and medical help has penetrated even to the remotest villages”.

“So, the things which assume a greater importance now are the complete rehabilitation process and catering to the needs of children besides taking care of orphans and widows. The rehabilitation involves enabling the people who lost their jobs due to Tsunami – to make their living. For example, providing fishing nets & boats to fishermen”.

“The children need a doubly help – first to bring them out of the trauma & second, to bring them back to school, considering the fast that school exams starting March 2005”.

“For widows and orphans, a greater task lies ahead. Its important to identify them and cater to all their needs. Same applies to the old people who lost their earning children”.

“So, all the NGOs working for the cause and all the people providing financial aid should keep these issues in mind” –
* Fear in the minds of fishermen to go back to the sea
* The mental trauma faced by innocent children
* The cries of the women when the rumors of another Tsunami are spread
* The dead bodies scattered everywhere
* Devastated houses and schools
* Huge open spaces converted to burial grounds
* Helplessness of the people to revert back to normal life.

“I am really glad to be associated with the dedicated team of Suyam Charitable Trust. The kind of work that has been accomplished is amazing considering the limited resources available. It seems as if every member in the team is a one man army accomplishing so much and never showing a hint of being tired or disappointed. Special thanks to Uma & Muthuram for being at the helm of affairs. And all the volunteers I worked with seem to be a part of my family ! I hope that the good work that has been initiated continues unabated. I will also try my best for providing more assistance to the Trust. My best wishes to all working here. Let us pray that we are soon able to recover from Tsunami disaster”

Dr. Jean Lieu - Jan 9,2005 Nagapattinam

January 9, 2005

I'm wearing down. My memory is lapsing and I can't recall what we've done or where we've been the last couple of days. I've been running on adrenaline, but it's slowly catching up with me. I'm tired and sluggish. I need more sleep than I used to and my energy level isn't as high any more. The rest of the team is showing signs of fatigue too. Everyone came to me with complaints of body aches and pain, fever, cough and signs of dehydration. We're not taking in as much fluids as we should. A new team is scheduled to arrive tomorrow night as my own journey draws to a close. There is somberness in the air. Everyone is aware that our time together is short and fleeting. Each passing hour brings us closer to good bye, without knowing whether or not our paths will ever cross again.

Yesterday, our van was attacked by a mob of people in another fishing village that we visited. Because they were so far away from Nagapattinam, relief supplies were delayed and they were forced to go without food and clean water for three days. For the first time since I've been on the field, I feared for our safety. They wanted food and didn't believe us when we told them all we had were medicines. Although it took us a while, we were finally able to convince them that all we can offer was medical care. While I set up the medical station, Trish and the other volunteers went to play with the children. She later told me that the children were terrified of the beach and did not want to go near it initially as much as they were tempted by the soccer ball she was dangling in front of them. But after a few hours of drawing and games, they finally, though reluctantly, followed her onto the beach for a game of soccer. We stayed there until well after dark before heading back to the hotel to nurse our own tired limbs.

I'm scheduled to leave on the bus tonight. I opted to take the last bus out to spend as much time as I can with my team. After a full day of examining patients and visiting children, we came back to the hotel a bit earlier than usual for one last dinner and group photos. After dinner, Baarti stayed in her room. She couldn't bare to say goodbye. She didn't want me to see her cry. I had encouraged her to be strong. She didn't want to disappoint me.
As soon as I rolled my luggage out of our room, Trish started crying. I gave her a hug and kissed her tear-stained cheeks, told her that I would miss her and that my heart, spirit and prayers would always follow them wherever they go. Anand, Siva, Suresh and I then rushed to the bus station. It was already 11pm. I wasn't feeling to well. I was nauseous and my stomach ached excruciatingly. I cursed myself for not bringing any medicines with me; I had left it all for the team with specific instructions on how to use them if they should ever need them. I sat there trying not to move as the guys discussed the events of the past few days and recalled fondly our various brush with death. And as if on cue, there was a commotion in the streets as people ran and cried in mass hysteria. A lady was screaming at her husband to leave all of their belongings to evacuate to the roof of the house. There was another tsunami scare. I was too tired and in too much pain to move. I told the guys to confirm the report. It was apparently another hoax. The bus arrived a short time later. My exhaustion overpowered the pain and nausea as I drifted off to sleep and the bus made its way back towards Chennai.

Dr. Jean Lieu - Jan 7,2005 Nagapattinam

January 7, 2005

There are few times I've looked death in the eyes, and this was one of those times. For a moment, I thought I would die in India. Our team was going door to door to distribute baby formula and to provide medical care. I had been tending to a patient with severe muscle spasms and bruises. She was flung into the water as the waves smashed down on her. Somebody had thrown her a rope and by some miracle she was able to slip the noose around her waist. She showed me her waist, still bruised and cut from the tension it took to pull her to safety. The only things I could offer her were hot packs, a topical analgesic balm, and Tylenol since we had no access to narcotics. Because I was in her house, I had taken off my shoes. The rest of my team had remained at her front door. As I stepped outside a short time later, I noticed that my entire team had disappeared. There was a deafening silence I hadn't noticed before. One of the volunteers stood at the gate, looking a bit lost and confused. I asked her what was wrong and she replied in a heavy Indian accent that water was coming. I didn't quite get the full meaning of her answer. So I asked another team member as he came walking towards me. He too said water was coming. It then dawned on me that he meant tsunami. Instinctively, I ran back to the front steps to grab my shoes and bag pack, realized that I didn't have time to put on my shoes and half expecting and bracing to be swallowed by a wave of water at any minute. Yet in the back of my mind, a little voice of doubt whispered for me to grab my shoes and bag pack, just in case. If I lived, I needed the shoes…they were the only pair I brought. Why I brought only one pair, I don't know. If I died, my passport was my only form of identification. With those thoughts, I made my way to the main street. Only then did I start to panic and belief that the tsunami scare might be real.
What I encountered on the main street was a sea of people, crying, screaming and running. Trish and Brian screamed at me frantically from across the street as I fought my way over to them. Taking the tail end of the line, I ushered my team up three flights of stairs to higher grounds. We stood there, shaken, waiting for the waves that never came. All around me, the tops of building were brimming with people. A short time later, we found that it was only a hoax. The unusually high waves had caused panic and mass hysteria. There was no tsunami.

We sat there and laughed nervously at how ridiculously we had behaved as we fled for our lives. Had that been our final moments on Earth, Brian would have gone to heaven with my medical equipment and medicines, which he had guarded with his life. Trish was so disoriented initially that she ran towards the beach instead of away from it. She has lost her shoes and passport in the confusion. And me? The silly little Vietnamese doctor would have gone to heaven with her pair of shoes, tucked safely under her arms like a little baby. Even as we laughed, we couldn't help but thanked God that we were still here. It reminded us how precious life was and how dangerous our mission could potentially be. Faced with death, it's funny what we identify as our priorities. Such is human nature, I suppose.
With the tsunami scare, my team needed to calm our nerves. They didn't want to return to the village so we headed towards our headquarters at the temple. As we neared the temple, I noticed that it wasn't as crowded as usual.

Apparently, the military had taken off, as well as our driver. He was too afraid to return for us so it looked like we were going to have to hike back on foot. The only people who remained behind were the doctors and the relief workers.
Fortunately, we were able hitch a ride to the next village in an ambulance. As we drove into the camp, children and adults swarmed the ambulance. Trish and Brian kept the children entertained while Siva and I handed out baby formulas. When we were done, I set up a medical station. We tried to keep track of the number of patients I was seeing, but gave up after ten minutes. There was an endless stream of patients. Fortunately, several hours later, an Indian doctor joined me and we worked side by side, stethoscope flying and blood pressure cuff pumping at lightning speed. By the end of the night, he had logged at least 80 patients before giving up on the tally. I had started three or four hours before him. Again, we turned the rest of the patients away and promised to return the next morning

Dr. Jean Lieu - Jan 6,2005 Nagapattinam

January 6, 2005 Nagapattinam, 4:30AM

The first procedure I performed in Nagapattinam was on myself. As I examined my feet the next morning, I discovered two angry blisters on each foot. I lanced them and dressed them appropriately with moleskin. It hurt more than it looked. Didn't seem that painful when I was doing it on a patient. Doctors make the worst patients.

Last night, I shared the bed with two Brits, Trish and Brian. My guardian angel must have laughed at the sight. Trish was in the middle, and Brian and I were on the sides. If I had tossed and turned, I would have landed on the floor with a thud. I was so exhausted, I really didn't care. In the middle of the night, I heard Trish and Brian clamoring out of the bed. Apparently, the mosquitoes had a feast on their arms and legs. Fortunately for me, I've always been afraid of the cold, so I was entirely protected by my sheets.

Thoughts of home and family gently lulled me back to sleep. I wondered what my family and friends were thinking. Did they miss me? What would happen if I didn't return? Would they appreciate the person I've become? Would they appreciate me more, faced with the possibility that they could lose me forever? If I lost my life here, it would be because I was doing something worthwhile, something I believed in. Because I wanted to make a difference. Have I made any difference or have I let them down?


January 6, 2005 11:30PM

This morning, we hiked into the temple to visit the patients I had promised to see. As we crossed the bridge where ships and bodies were still entombed, I was squeezed in by a bulldozer making its way out of the village. The bridge was only big enough for the bulldozer and I was caught in the middle of the bridge with no place to turn. There were people tightly packed behind as well as in front of me, blocking any escape I had. I watched as the bulldozer honked and inched its way closer to me when I noticed a pole not too far away at the edge of the bridge. I grabbed the pole and the bulldozer passed within a half inch of my elbow. As I held onto the pole, I fought the weight of my bag pack as it threatened to pull me into the sea below, along with all the overturned boats and rotting bodies. By some miracle of God, I managed to steady my balance and rejoined my team.

After a full day of tending to people with muscle aches and pains resulting from being tossed by the waves, colds and flus, dehydration and such, I visited another coastal community, Kameshwaram. It was 20km from Nagapattinam. When I got there, there was already another medical team in place so I was able to take a tour with one of the fishermen. Although his home was entirely destroyed, he only lost his mother. She had been carrying his four year old child in her arms when she was overtaken by the waves. She died, but the child was washed ashore alive. His village only suffered 35 deaths because of the trees that lined the shores along the village. He showed us slabs of stones that once had been the foundation of someone's home. I stood there and marveled at the beauty of the sea, now calm, and the foamy white waves. Not far inland laid the destruction it had caused a few days before. The sand felt soft, cool and soothing in my hands. I picked up a seashell from the beach and watched the water as it gently lapped the sand. Such perfect beauty. How could something so beautiful be so deadly?

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped by to visit a local church. The volunteers had heard that the church of Ave Maria nearby was a holy place. When the tsunami hit, everything in the area was destroyed but no water entered the church. All who were sheltered by her were safe no matter how high the water rose. As we pulled into the front of the church, I marveled at the magnificent white building, its intricate carving and architecture. We piled inside, knelt down in front of the altar to say a prayer for the victims of the tsunami, then headed back to the hotel, each lost in the silence of our thoughts.

Dr. Jean Lieu -January 5, 2005 Nagapattinam, Golden Sands Inn

January 5, 2005Nagapattinam, Golden Sands Inn

I just came back from one of the villages along the shores of Nagapattinam. We made the trip there in the dark and on foot since we were unable to get any vans to go there. It was about 4 miles from the hotel. With my bag pack and medical bag, it seemed more like 10 miles. As soon as we entered the village, the stench of death and destruction hit me full force. Everyone around us wore masks, even the military, which made my team a little nervous. As a premed student, I've spent months at a time at the LA city morgue assisting with autopsies on questionable deaths, ranging from homicide to suicide. I was familiar with the smell of death, but this was different. In the dark, by the light of the stars and the moon and stars, I couldn't help but feel chills going up and down my spine.
Uma led the way as I guided the rest of the team with my flash light. We hiked in silence, trekking through dirt, then mud, then full puddles. Empty huts, boats and debris littered the streets. There were parts of buildings and huts, uprooted trees and debris, trucks and boats, all entangled in one giant mangled mess. The stench of death and destruction was thick and palpable all around me, clinging to my clothes, skin and hair, suffocating my every breath.
All day, my eyes had stung from the smoke in the air. All I can assume is that they're still cremating the bodies that were continually being discovered every day. The village was teeming with government officials, helicopters and military vehicles and personnel. The villagers stared as we passed. When we reached the temple, it was filled with people. Uma led us in to meet with the village leader. We were to set up a medical camp and a community kitchen tomorrow morning at 6am. She introduced me as the team doctor from the United States. Instantly, I was a heroine. Not only was I an American, I was a doctor. They couldn't believe I was real. As soon as they knew I was a doctor, I was bombarded with patients. I examined people with complaints ranging from the common cold to PTSD (post traumatic stress), muscle spasms, contusions, sprains and dehydration as well as many chronic conditions such as high blood pressure, since most of these people had never seen a doctor all their lives. Once they saw my sphygnometer, they lined up to have their blood pressure taken whether or not they felt ill. It was a rare gift they delighted in, and I was more than happy to oblige, all the while fumbling with the device because I had been spoiled by the nurses who usually take care of this task for me. I saw countless patients before the village leader interrupted me for a photo session. I gathered our team for a group picture. Baarti, one of our volunteers, translated to me that I was a heroine in Nagapattinam-and all I did was take blood pressures!
We had to turn many patients away, promising that we would return the next day. The village leader had offered to take us back in the military truck that had brought in the relief supplies. They had stacked a few bags of rice for me to use as a stepping ladder because the back of the truck was as high as my shoulders. We climbed in and settle into the back of the truck as it made its way slowly back towards town. In the back of the truck, I couldn't help but marvel at the starry heavens above

Dr. Jean Lieu -Tsunami Relief and Rescue/January 5, 2005-Pappankoil (outskirt of Nagapattinam)

January 5, 2005Pappankoil (outskirt of Nagapattinam)

We took off late last night. Fortunately, I was able to sleep during the ride. But I really didn't have a choice; although my mind was wide awake, my body was so exhausted I no longer had control over whether my eyes remained open or shut. I could have slept standing if I had to. I spent most of the day negotiating a discount on books and school supplies for the children. When asked what they wanted most, the children said they wanted to go back to school but had lost all of their books and school supplies. It seemed to me a small request. They've lost so much and all it took to make them happy was school supplies. And after seeing how poverty clung to India, donating money to buy books seemed like a long term investment as well. The most precious resource of any country is its children. Not only will these books bring them a small happiness, but it would help them focus on the future and distract them from the tragedy that had struck them so unfairly and mercilessly. The injured have been taken care of. The adult needs are being addressed. The dead are gone and will eventually be buried. It is the living that must suffer the pain and burden. It is the children that must be cared for. I still saw innocence in their eyes. The young ones still played in the streets, still thinking that their parents will return to take them home, still waiting in vain for parents that will never come.

We've been on the road since midnight last night. I've lost track of the days and hours altogether. We finally made it to the outskirts of Nagapattinam to a town called Pappankoil. The villagers showed us how their lakes have dried up and how two thousand bodies had washed up in the lake that was their backyard. Just yesterday, the last body had been buried in a mass grave beside the lake. As tragic as the story was, the lake seemed still and peaceful; not a hint was present to depict the horrible tragedy. Life continued as people struggled to pick up the pieces and move on. The children smiled, their eyes bright and sparkling. The adults stared as they marveled at these foreigners visiting their village since they get very few visitors in this lonely place. I couldn't get over the innocence and beauty of the young girls who greeted us, such dark glossy hair and skin, round bright innocent eyes and a smile to warm the coldest hearts. Everywhere I looked, I encountered faces smiling, beaming with earnest friendliness and curiosity. Even in the midst of death and destruction, hope still shone in their eyes.

Dr. Jean Lieu -January 4, 2005 Chennai

January 4, 2005 Chennai, 11:25PM

Suyam finally sent someone to pick me up three hours later. They were waiting for me at the international terminal. I was waiting for them in Domestic. The person they sent spoke English with a heavy Indian accent. It took me some time to get used to it. We went to Suyam headquarters in a van. With the way the driver was driving, I was beginning to think it was more likely that I would be killed in a car accident rather than a tsunami. But we made it to the office in one piece, though my heart was lying somewhere near the pits of my stomach as I hung on to my seat for dear life. How ironic would it be if I were killed even before I got to the field…in car accident of all things. Perish the thought.

I sat in the office patiently as they mobilized their team. We would be visiting one of the fishing villages destroyed by the tsunami later this evening. It was a holy month and they were having difficulty arranging transportation because everyone was going on a pilgrimage. As I waited, they handed me their progress reports so I could catch up with all that had been done. I was thankful for these people. Their hospitality had been impeccable thus far. I saw the sincerity and passion with which they conducted their work, and it inspired me to want to do as much as I can to further their efforts.

As I sat in the van going towards Kovalum, it was the chaotic traffic that scared me more than anything else. As bumpy as the ride was, I finally gave into my drowsiness and was able to nap for half an hour. When we arrived at Kovalum, I couldn't see much water damage because it was dark out. But as we went deeper into the village by foot, I heard the roaring of the waves not too far from where I stood. I felt safe, but the darkness, the sound of the menacing waves crashing onto the shores, vivid memories of my escape out of Vietnam, combined with the knowledge of how ferocious the ocean had been just a few days ago made me feel just a little nervous. But the feeling passed quickly once I met the survivors of the tsunami. They were grateful that we came to help. They earnestly told us that the government had given them 60kg of rice and 4,000 rupees ($1 = 43 rupees) to rebuild their homes. They were anxious to return to normalcy. The first and foremost thoughts on their minds were how they were going to sustain a living for the future. Fishing was their livelihood. Without the necessary tools, their families would starve. Yet I didn't see hopelessness, defeat or resignation in their eyes. I saw anxiousness, but also earnestness and eagerness-an eagerness to get beyond this tragedy, to do what was necessary, to resume life as they knew it before the tsunami claimed what was dear and familiar. Though the tsunami had destroyed their lives and had taken away their loved ones, it didn't destroy their spirits. What I found surprising was that they weren't requesting money. They were requesting the necessary equipment to get them back to being self-reliant. I talked to one villager who owned a shop along the beach who had lost his entire livelihood when his shop was destroyed. He said he was fortunate; his wife and two babies are still alive even though he may be jobless and homeless. He told he had faith in God; Jesus will see him through. He had to rebuild his shop from scratch. The government would be helping the fishermen, but no one will be helping the shop keepers. All he needed was $100 US to get started. But even so, there would be no tourists on that beach for a long time to come. What does the future hold for him and his family? Only God in His infinite wisdom knows the answer.

For the first time in my life, I saw the importance of money. I never really valued monetary wealth. I was comfortable even though I was by no means wealthy. The things I treasured most in life could never be bought. But now, how I wish I had spent a little less and saved a little more. With money comes power-the power to help those in need.