First of all, I am alive and uninjured. Nothing could have prepared us for what had happened. But it did. And we move on.
I was on vacation in Phuket, Thailand from Dec.24, one of the locations that suffered severe casualties from the Southeast Asian earthquake and tsunami. 5 friends and I were on this vacation, and we all escaped disaster by a hair. I cannot help but believe that some unseen force had protected us and timed our survival. It was that close.
On December 26, I was in the lodge lobby in Patong at 6am, waiting for a van to pick me up for a 2night/3days snorkeling trip to the Similan Islands. The van arrived at 7 and we headed North towards Taplamu Pier in Phang Nga. It was around 9am when the speedboat left the pier and we headed towards the Similan Islands.
Later, my friend told me that she heard the windows rattling and felt an earthquake at 8am - most likely when I was on the road, but well away from the West coast of Phuket.
The speedboat jetted away for 1.5 hour and hesitated several times before approaching the Similan Islands. The driver kept on shouting on the radio in Thai but we eventually motored close enough to a bigger junk boat. As we peered overboard, I was a bit surprised. The water had patches of murky yellow-green and branches and trash was floating around, which was not expected from a beautiful snorkeling/diving site. The Similan Islands is one of the least touched and best preserved waters in Thailand (and ranked amongst the top 10 diving spots in the world). Something was wrong. Very wrong.
On board, an American couple looked a little distraught, and had told me that their tents and passports had been washed away in the morning. When I investigated further, the people who had stayed on the island the night before told us that a high tide had swept away the camp at 10am. One Englishman said that the water level had reached the windows and everything got flushed away. Most people were diving or snorkeling when this happened, and the snorkellers described that, "The water suddenly got cloudy. Poof - zero visibility." 3 scuba divers had been swept away, and raised their emergency signals. Everyone was saved and no one was seriously injured.
We, being the new comers, looked around the Andaman Sea to find it speckled with various debris: shoes, mattresses, water bottles, tents, bushes, trees - and even a turtle. However, the crew later told us that this was a taxidermies sea turtle that had been decorated on the lodge wall, and we were very relieved.
No one really knew what was going on, but we waited patiently on the boat. We eventually heard bits and pieces of news: "the piers on Phuket had been destroyed," "earthquake in Sumatra this morning," "cannot go back now." Since we were on a big junk boat, speedboats congregated to our boat and dropped people off. There was a boatful of people who started from Koh Phi Phi on a 3 hour speedboat trip. They had all fallen ill from the choppy waves and the small speedboat bouncing on water. At one point, we must have had about 60 people on board.
We did not know how serious the situation was, and believed that we would at least wait the night and still enjoy the rest of our snorkeling/diving trip the next day. We saw some tropical fishes swim by the boats and some flying fish on the water. To our disappointment, we were told that the boat was turning back to the mainland. We begged to at least swim in the water, but it only provided us with 5m visibility, as if the coral reef had been shaken like a snow-globe.
We did not understand HOW fortunate we were until a Danish girl received a text message from home. At the time, we heard "possibly 2000 dead on Phuket." More news came through as we learned "5000 confirmed dead in India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Thailand, Indonesia." We began to see things in a different light. We were extremely lucky to have been on a boat in the Similan Islands.
I had stubbornly sought my adventure, leaving my friends behind in Patong. Having heard that Phuket was hit hard, especially along the beaches, I became increasingly worried about their state of being. Where we had stayed, Patong Lodge, was a good 500m away from Patong Beach and a little up the hill. Nothing was certain though.
After 3 hours on the junk boat, we finally began to see some lights - but only from other boats and a lighthouse. There seemed to be no light on land and we could only barely make out the silhouettes of mountains from the beams of the full moon. We feared that the infrastructure had been hit severely.
When we disembarked, we saw boats piled on top of one another in 60-degree angles. One boat was completely turned over, making bubbling noises as the last bit of oxygen escaped from its hollow cavity. As we waited for the tuk-tuk to take us to our accommodation for the night, we saw a Thai man sitting on a ledge eating his dinner and sipping whiskey. He pointed his finger straight ahead to the wreckage and said, "Those... were my two boats."
From the openings of the tuk-tuk, I could not see much disaster except the flooded ditches. Electricity was up in Phang Nga, and people seemed to be going their own way - until we stopped at the evacuation camp. Before the tuk-tuk could turn into the driveway of the temple-turned-evacuation-camp, a frantic woman zigzagged across screaming, "Peto! Peto? Where are you!?" All of us groaned in sympathy.
AT THE EVACUATION CAMP
The 2 Danish couples and I, whom I had become close friends with, got off the vehicle despondently and set our bags down at the steps of the temple. I knew that we could not expect anything more than an uncomfortable lay on the stone floors. None of us could remotely consider eating or sleeping. We were wide awake and alert for any news. Most people were on edge, but I was surprisingly calm - an acceptance of the situation and dismissal of panic, knowing that it would not improve the situation. I wished I could have helped in some way, but I did not understand the situation and did not have much to offer but to oblige to the recommended actions. Vivika (the Danish girl) and I kept on talking about our incredible luck and smoked away to calm our nerves down.
Then, a man in shorts approached us for a cigarette. "Thank you. I needed that," he said. "I was at the beach this morning and my wife was sleeping in the hotel. I saw the waves coming towards us, grabbed my son, and ran. I had to hold up my son above the water in the lobby to keep him from drowning. My wife was pulled out of the rubbles. I was told that half the hotel was dead - 200 people. Dead. I'm just glad to have a cigarette."
Taking Vivika's advice, I walked around the camp a little. We were in a Buddhist temple, and some people were praying in the back. When I stepped upstairs, the entire floor was packed with people lying on the ground and talking - some severely injured and on a stretcher with IVs. Many had received First Aid at the station below. Most injuries were caused by the cuts created when they were washed away or by the stampede of people. Many were limping and would not have been able to escape quickly if an aftershock were to strike. What was most noticeable was their forlorn expressions - "I came here for a vacation. Why, oh why?"
The lack of information suspended everyone in fear and uncertainty. The volunteers (mostly tour company staff) tried to explain unsuccessfully in broken English. Inability to communicate was irritating many, including the usually smiling and amiable Thai people. Another noticeable fact was that the camps felt like a Western Europe Diaspora - there were remarkable amounts of Danish, Swiss, Swedish German, Fins in the camp, which I thought also contributed to the language gap.
When I returned to my new friends (at this point, I became an adopted Danish), the 4 were talking to a German lady who had been rescued but could not find her husband. In the morning, her husband had rushed to their bungalow and had told her to get out immediately. But before she could reach the entrance, the water had rushed in, pushing her against the ceiling and making her lose consciousness. She was still looking for her husband, but was not really in any condition to do so - physically and mentally. At this point, a lady with a newspaper in hand came to borrow a lighter. "I promise to return it," she said. "A baby is going in shock over there."
The hours seemed to drag on - we were at the temple from around 8:30pm. Vivika's husband let me use his mobile phone to call my parents. The network was congested for a long time, but I finally got through. My mother was still asleep, but I quickly blurted, "I'm okay. There was an earthquake in Indonesia and Thailand has been affected. But I'm okay." Until then, I had stayed unbelievably calm, but deep down inside, I was just as scared. Just as uncertain of what would happen and how bad it could have been. 5000+ dead in all of Southeast Asia and probably many more - it was a chilling realization of how incredibly lucky I was.
LOCALS AND TOURISTS
One of the Thai girls stayed close to us. She was a staff at the snorkelling/diving trip company; but I don't think her motive for staying was for customer satisfaction. For one, her house was near the pier and had been completely washed away. She told us that the only thing she had today was coffee in the morning, when the radio started buzzing and the boat drivers started asking what was going on in the mainland. She was very sorry that we tourists had to experience this. I actually worry more about the local Thai people who have to deal with the aftermath.
Starting from the fishing community to ecotourism and the lucrative tourism industry in general, Thailand had taken a giant blow. I don't mean to deemphasize the other countries that suffered from this disaster, but this is what went through my mind at the moment. Thai people are known for their smiles and warm hospitality, but their faces had been clouded by glazed looks of devastation and many many tears. The surviving tourists will at least be able to go back to a sturdy home and a stable economic structure.
But this is not a story of we vs. them. Locals and tourists alike, there was great suffering and grief. I sincerely hope that wary foreigners will not turn away but look into the opportunities of discovering Thailand again in the near future.
Koh Similan - this is the closest I got to it.
LOVE IS ALWAYS APPROPRIATE
There was great kindness amidst all chaos - everyone extended a helping hand and became alert to the needs of others. The Englishman whom I encountered earlier on the boat was helping two injured women throughout the night. He made sure they could be as comfortable as possible and offered to be their human crutch until they were transported to another camp or hospital. People huddled - couples snuggled closely while strangers formed small circles for security, determined not to leave anyone behind or alone.
When we were back at the temple last night, the Thai guide had secretly brought us a flashlight and said that her mother was looking for a better place for us to stay. We were extremely grateful and thanked her many times as we took a power nap on the temple floor. Normally, we must take our shoes off at temples out of respect, and only the holy monks could use the temple cushions and embroidered mats - but this was an exception, as the tired people sought comfort for their aching bodies.
The girl's mother arrived in a truck, and we packed ourselves onto the trucks, legs dangling out the back. We could see the main street, and the Mom pointed out that some people in the houses had death in the family.
She was a petite and energetic Thai woman, who had an air of strength. She explained to us that she had been looking for her sister all day in Phuket, but had no luck finding her.
"Today, she was driving her truck along the beach to pick up her son. You know, the wave just went away and took the sand and the pier with them. Loose. And then, BAM! the wave suddenly came crashing back. My sister was driving along the coast and her truck got washed away. We found her truck, damaged, but she wasn't inside. I looked around every hospital in Phuket, but I could not find her."
Despite her story, Mom had a sense of optimism and was not going to give up until she saw some concrete evidence. And even though her sister was missing, she was helping us getting settled in evacuation camps.
Truckloads of military men came, unloading food, clothes, and water. We shared scarce resources - global roaming phones, painkillers, and toilet paper. Some were prepared and others had just barely escaped death with nothing but themselves.
When we ate our lunch at the camp the next morning, a little Thai girl brought an armful of distilled water in cups, more than happy to help the peculiar foreigners. She was delighted and her younger brother (age 5?) tried to follow suit by trying to bring the rationed food from their family's picnic area (which we already had our own). This made us smile. The kindness never seemed to stop, as everyone looked out for one another.
Thai kids playing at the camp. I got to see Thai boxing after all.
YET ANOTHER EVACUATION CAMP
Once we arrived at our new destination - a school down the road - it felt more crowded than at the prior camp. Everywhere we looked, bodies were packed, filling all space that was dry and under some light. When our group looked for some space upstairs, the wooden floor creaked suspiciously, making us wonder how many people the structure can really hold until the floor gave out.
We shuffled the school chairs and desks to find some space to sleep. We lay 2 people to an aisle, trying to cover ourselves with towels, jackets, T-shirts, and sarongs to protect ourselves from the mosquitoes and the cold. The Germans chatted loudly and we stuck our heads beneath the desks to avoid the halogen beams above. Although it was annoying, no one dared turn off the light in fear of the unknown.
Surprisingly, I managed to fall asleep (although only for 4 hours total). At least enough to feel disturbed when woken up. Everyone was jumpy, and we had several abrupt nerve-jerking moments when someone screamed about the rats, and eventually, a hopeful cry that a bus had arrived.
It was December 27 - around 6am.
Skeptic of where the bus was going and also if it could possibly take all of us (100+ people), Vivika and I smoked and watched the scene below from the balcony.
Ultimately, we strolled down the hill, lining up in front of the buses - still uncertain whether it would take us, because we heard rumors that it was "For Germans only, arranged by the German embassy." Frankly, I did not care if I did not get on the bus, as long as it was taking the injured or others who were still looking for missing family members.
But disappointingly, the bus took neither - it was for a German tour group "Thomas Cook" only, so all who had got on the bus were kicked right back out. Hearing that it was a German bus, the German lady looking for her husband had excitedly stepped on. Instead, she was rejected adamantly and left in great stress and tears. Even in her fragile state, she was trying to stay optimistic - until this had happened. We looked on bitterly at the 3 empty Thomas Cook buses - all but with 1 or 2 passengers.
We heard that there was a possible aftershock coming at 10am, so we all cleared the buildings and sat outside. The network and our spirits picked up again with the daylight. I had a chance to call Patong Lodge, where my friends were staying. I had no idea if they were safe, evacuated, or if the lodge had survived at all.
I got through, and found out from the receptionist that everyone at the lodge was okay. In fact, my friends were in the lobby contemplating to leave for the airport! After hearing their voices, we confirmed each others' safety with great relief and promised to meet in Hong Kong, if not at Phuket Airport. I also heard that another party from our group was still stuck in Karon Beach, however, because the hotel told them that it was unsafe to leave.
Aftershock or not, my group at the evacuation camp were determined to leave for Phuket (we were still in Phang Nga at this point) after the aftershock was predicted to come. But we did not have to wait long before buses and vans were arranged to head to the Phuket side.
Some were still hesitant to board the vans and decided to stay to see if a missing family member would show up. A Danish group we met had one girl in the hospital and her mother was still missing. Fortunately, the boy in the group was thought to have drowned, but had made it back. They were hopeful.
At the airport, I parted ways with my Danish friends and we wished each other luck in getting home safely. It was quite chaotic in the airport but I miraculously bumped into my friends who had gotten a tuk-tuk to drive up from Patong. We were to return to Hong Kong as soon as possible - after staying overnight at the airport.
Phuket Airport
My friends called me "the worm"
AT PATONG BEACH
My friends' experience is worth mentioning - as they had been closer to the disaster location than me. They showed me the photos on their digital cameras of Patong Beach, where we had been the day before. We had walked along this beach on Dec 25, where the shops, restaurants, and parasols had decorated the shoreline. Strangely enough, the Buddhist shrine at the corner of the street (only 50m from the shore) was left unscathed, making us wonder what holy power or durable construction material it was made of. But everything surrounding it was completely obliterated.
Patong Beach on the west coast of Phuket - we had been here the day before. Now everything is gone.
Most things were destroyed, but the Buddhist shrine (photo right) remained untouched by the tsunami.
150m down the road from our lodge (other side of Patong Beach).
My friends actually did not feel the shock and sensed that something was wrong only when people started running wildly in the hallway shouting, "The waves are coming!" Then, everyone had to evacuate to the mountains where they stayed for 6 hours. According to my friends, they were able see the waves crashing high, as seen on the CNN footages.
My friends had seen the impact of the tsunamis as the tuk-tuk drove up to the airport. The driver was hesitant to bargain, but suggested a rather high price, knowing that their business was very high in demand now and would dry up severely in the following week. My friends obliged and paid him 200% higher than the normal rate.
SOMEBODY IS WATCHING OVER US
Some stumble upon luck accidentally. In the airport pub, I met a French man who had signed up on a scuba diving trip to Koh Phi Phi on the day the disaster struck. However, he had overslept and had stayed in the hotel, avoiding one of the worst struck areas in Thailand. He had indeed avoided a great danger, as we found out from a British couple in the ticket cue that everything in Koh Phi Phi was in ruins. The couple was one of the fortunate ones who escaped the destruction.
On Koh Phi Phi, we heard that all the resorts had been uprooted, leaving only the base structure intact. The diesel from the boats had leaked into the water, and some people had drunk an unhealthy dose of blackened seawater. If you have ever seen the photos of Koh Phi Phi (the location used for the DiCaprio movie "The Beach"), it is one of paradise with such beautiful wildlife under the sea. Now, it is all gone and poisoned - a site of terror.
My friends and I would have been on Koh Phi Phi that day, if it had not been fully booked. Another reason to make me believe that we had escaped death by a slim chance. Alice and Dav, who were on Karon Beach had originally planned to go to the beach early that morning - but changed their minds at the last minute and went to the hotel pool. They saw the waves crashing from the poolside. Patong Lodge, the place that my friends were staying at, was unharmed and it was a budget lodge that we had booked last minute. It was slightly on a hill and did not have a sea view. I was in one of the safest places in the area that day - I remember the Thai Mom saying, "Anyone on Similan Islands today was a very very lucky person."
I sat in Phuket Airport writing this entire narrative on the advert pages of The Economist - not having bathed over 48 hours, sleep deprived, and aching from sleeping on the hard floors. But it had given me much to think about. Something that Vivika said sticks to my mind about this particular incident: 'Timing is Everything.'
Natural disaster is violent, ruthless, and unpredictable. All of us who were here amidst the disaster were touched in some way. Our priorities in life had shifted and connections had formed to test our moral values among already close ones and strangers.
* * *
AFTERMATH - IN HONG KONG
When I got back to Hong Kong, I thought that I would be much better off. I received many worried phone calls, SMS, and e-mails from my friends and family. I had not given myself a proper chance to reflect, though, and the backlash came last night.
My body had become weak and I experienced a bit of a stomach flu and delirium as the adrenaline had worn off and my immune system took a nosedive. This was accompanied by a nightmare of being in the evacuation camps in Thailand again, doing some relief work. Somehow subconsciously, I felt guilt for not being able to do more to help. I will most likely adjust back into the normal life slowly, but a part of me is affected, and a part of me is still in Thailand.
My prayers go out to all those affected - and I sincerely wish that they will have the hope and faith to live on after this tragedy.
No comments:
Post a Comment