Feature

By Manu Raju

Putting the Pieces Back Together

As South Asians aid tsunami victims, questions loom about disaster's long-term effects

Lying on the ground with a firm grip on the front bumper of a parked minivan, Vandana Duggal suddenly found herself bracing for her life as the earth shook violently in the Andaman Islands, with a powerful wind poised to blow away the vehicle as if it were no heavier than a feather.

As the van rocked back and forth, the 21-year-old Indian American looked straight ahead to see a massive tidal wave annihilate a solid concrete pier where she and her family had been standing a moment before.

Just as things appeared to be getting worse by the second, the fierce shaking suddenly stopped. Thinking the disaster was over and unaware of the magnitude of the astonishing incident, Duggal and her family decided to continue on with their journey and boarded a boat destined for Havelock, which houses one of the most popular beaches in the islands located off the southeastern coast of India.

Duggal had little time to fully recover from the fear of the nearly five-minute tremor -- she was about to experience an incident that would be just as shocking. A gigantic, mile-long tsunami engulfed the shore, wiping away boats, piers and life in its path, while Duggal and her family were pulling safely away in their boat to Havelock. Soon they would learn that the tsunami had also swallowed Havelock, forcing the boat to bring her family and 50 others back to the devastated mainland where they had been about eight hours before. Duggal, who attends American University in Washington, later said being on a boat at sea might have saved all of their lives

"When is this going to stop? God, please let this stop," she says she was thinking during the disaster. "It is so surreal that we went through this."

In that moment, Duggal survived the Dec. 26 tsunamis in South Asia that left hundreds of thousands of people dead, ruined millions of families and businesses and made orphans of hordes of children.

Following the disaster, the response was quick and clear. People poured money and aid into countries like India, Indonesia, Thailand and Sri Lanka. Many South Asian Americans and immigrants from hard-hit areas say that immediately after the disaster, they became more engaged with their home countries than they have been in years. And in the afflicted countries, the crisis created unusual friends -- old-time ethnic rivals, political enemies and social classes that have been embroiled in long-standing disputes.

But what remains unclear is the long-term impact the disaster will have on day-to-day life for people in those countries. Already, many of those tenuous alliances have started to simmer. Old political tensions are flaring in Sri Lanka and Indonesia. Poor social classes are feeling left out of relief aid in India. And many are raising concerns about various issues, ranging from the lack of coordination to provide care to the physically and mentally ill to the trafficking and abuse of South Asian women and children.

South Asians involved in the reconstruction efforts in those countries say they are now entering a critical phase. They are moving swiftly to crack down on the abuse of women and children, keep fragile alliances together and maintain political stability in the affected countries. Activists are also trying to keep the world engaged in the reconstruction efforts overseas, trying to convince people that their continued donations are leading to better lives for the millions who have suffered through the crisis.

"Without the world's involvement, more people will continue to suffer," says Shadia Marhaban, 36, a political activist and refugee from Banda Aceh, Indonesia who now lives in Boston. She says the international community needs to remain heavily involved in the reconstruction efforts to help alleviate the tragic political and economic after-effects in Indonesia and other South Asian countries. "I've seen a lot of pain, suffering and horror. I don't think it will take a day or two to relieve this situation."

Dealing with the aftermath

"Sri Lanka does not have an organized, disaster relief plan," Chamithra Perera said in an interview from Colombo, Sri Lanka. Immediately following the disaster, "there was no coordination at all," she says.

Perera was in Sri Lanka on the morning of Dec. 26 and decided to stay away from the beach because she was feeling under-the-weather. Her brief illness might have saved her from the destruction that made places she was familiar with look "not even recognizable."

Two days after the disaster, Perera, a 26-year-old Sri Lankan who works in public relations in the Washington area, packed up her belongings and hopped on a bus with her family to provide medical assistance to those affected by the disaster. The family moved to the hardest hit areas of the country, setting up camp in schools, temples and other venues, working 20-hour days to treat endless streams of people. Perera occasionally had to turn some victims away so that she and her family could get a moment's rest.

Because of the disorganization of the Sri Lankan relief effort, Perera says, they were forced to learn from their own sources where aid and assistance were needed. Some say that aid in Sri Lanka has been spread disproportionately, with Tamil-dominated regions of the North receiving little assistance, a charge that has been refuted by the Sinhalese majority government.

Sri Lanka has been marred with long-standing civil strife between Tamil separatists in the North and East and the Sinhalese-controlled central government. Leader of the separatist movement and central government trade jabs about the organization of the relief and reconstruction efforts; both sides are worried that the success of the other's reconstruction could grant leverage in future disputes. A similar situation is occurring in Indonesia, where separatists from the city of Banda Aceh are feuding with the central government over relief funds. Many activists are calling for greater international involvement to help settle the long-running dispute. Continued disorganization of aid, many say, could be a barrier to the success of the reconstruction efforts.

M. Sreetharan, secretary and treasurer of the Tamils Rehabilitation Organization, which is involved with the Sri Lankan separatist movement, asks, "Is the relief really reaching people who really need it?" He says two-thirds of the tsunami-related deaths in Sri Lanka are in Tamil-dominated regions. "If this is going to be a continuing problem, it represents a mistrust between the two sides."

People tracking the issue say the success of the reconstruction effort will affect long-term political stability in the country. "This conflict in Sri Lanka is about money," says Saji Prelis, a 36-year-old Sri Lankan, who is the executive director of the human rights group Center for Peacebuilding International. "The question is: what kind of country do we want?"

Looking for a steady supply of funds

Prelis, vacationing in western Sri Lanka, had planned on heading to the beach on the morning of Dec 26, but decided to push back his plans in order to watch the rest of a cricket match on television. Later in the morning, he heard unusual noises outdoors, and ventured outside to see what the commotion was about. A five-mile long, 20-foot high tsunami at a speed of nearly 200 miles per hour had wreaked havoc on the coast, causing unbelievable disaster, panic and chaos among the Sri Lankans.

Prelis now is moving forward with plans to help sustain a continued flow of relief funds into parts of the country that were just as devastated as the one that he witnessed. Prelis and others in South Asia say they need to convince the international community to continue to provide money beyond the funds that poured in immediately following the disaster. To accomplish that, relief workers are employing unique tactics to help secure funds throughout the reconstruction effort.

Prelis' group is developing a documentary to give a visual depiction of how the reconstruction is faring and how donations could lead to a sense of normalcy back into the lives of the tsunami victims. By showing how donated funds result in a school being built, for example, donors might be more willing to regularly provide funds throughout the reconstruction, he says.

"We're filming where the money is going so people can experience what life was like before and what life is like now," Prelis says. "People will be able to see how their donations are helping people's lives."

Others have also moved forward with novel ways of keeping people in tune with the reconstruction efforts underway in South Asia. For instance, Sukanti Iyne, a Sri Lankan who lives in Deerfield Beach, Fla., has developed a Web site, HelpSL.org, which provides a forum for relatives to find lost ones in the tsunami-hit regions and serves as a message board for detailing people's relief efforts overseas.

One person posting a message on the Web site says that even with minimal supplies, a relief worker can help an individual who has lost almost everything from the tsunami: "Combs, mirrors, slippers, toys, cooking pots and school books, mundane personal possessions which you and I give scarce heed to in our daily lives suddenly had the power to define one's existence," says the person called SKD, a volunteer in South Asia. "For those who had lost everything, a hair brush to call their own or a small toy for a child reduced to playing with sticks and trash, becomes a powerful thing."

Concerns rise for women and children

As questions loom about sustained funding and political stability, activists and governments are taking steps to prevent social problems from lingering as reconstruction begins in South Asia.

"The social problems are really not visible unless you look below the infrastructure," says Greg Fields, managing director of the group Global Fund for Children, which is providing money and assistance to organizations that are trying to protect vulnerable children in the stricken countries. "It's a sad consequence of what happened on December 26."

Fields says authorities in Sri Lanka, Indonesia, India and Thailand need to develop a system to crack down on people targeting orphaned and homeless children for cheap labor and sexual exploitation.

Many South Asian grass-roots groups are moving forward with a host of plans to clamp down on the practice, which some fear could seriously hurt future generations and lead to the spread of diseases like HIV-AIDS. Fields' group, for instance, is working closely with Dasra, a group based in India that is on the ground in the southeastern state of Tamil Nadu helping maintain long-term social stability in that state. Following meetings with Tamil Nadu fishermen, who the group says represent 85 percent of the 657,000 lives affected by the disaster in the state, Dasra decided to raise funds for school supplies to ensure children's lives returned to a somewhat normal routine.

Others say a similar situation is occurring for women. The United Nations Development Fund for Women is working to coordinate efforts with different advocacy groups and governments to help combat abuse and sexual exploitation of women. The UN agency is hoping to raise $3 million for its efforts, and women's rights advocates say without such activities, the long-term ramifications could be devastating.

Roopa Unnikrishnan, board chairman of Sakhi, a New York-based women's rights group, says a "clear" program needs to be developed that will specifically aid women in emotionally and physically abusive situations in the South Asian countries. "I think overall we find that, in cases of natural calamity and other such events, we have of course, the unfortunate situation where women and children are the most vulnerable," she says. "There needs to be a clear approach about how relief is made available to such vulnerable groups."

People who miraculously survived the disaster and others who witnessed the aftermath know that the early months of the reconstruction could hold the key to how effective South Asia rebuilds in the long term. While smoothly carrying out the reconstruction remains an arduous task, they know success is necessary to bring South Asia back to the tranquility that existed before the catastrophic morning of Dec. 26, which Duggal and millions of others experienced.

“Looking back on it, there are so many what-ifs,” Duggal says of her experience.

Many “what-ifs” also exist for South Asia in the long term.