7 Responses to “Boxing Day Two Years On…”

1. 1
   Pale Says:
   December 26th, 2006 at 1:52 pm

   How did you get that it is so amazing.

2. 2
   Pale Says:
   December 26th, 2006 at 1:53 pm

   Thatis the most amazing thing I have seen.

3. 3
   blestpickle Says:
   December 26th, 2006 at 2:22 pm

   Hmm .. nothing like being shaken out of any weary, post- Christmas complacency ..
   This is the world into which Jesus was born ..

4. 4
   Boxing » Blog Archives » Christmas, Boxing Day. Says:
   December 26th, 2006 at 6:29 pm

   […] Boxing Day Two Years On Exactly, two years after the tsunami devastated parts of South Asia, the recovery effort for people displaced by the disaster continues, as (this photo essay) by the UN childrens’ fund, Unicef shows, show. […]

5. 5
   Jack-of-it Says:
   January 10th, 2007 at 1:57 pm

   Lionfish,

   Thanks for posting this, it brought back so many incredible memories. I was in Sri Lanka a couple of weeks after the Tsumani hit as part of an multi-disciplinary team sent in to assess the most appropriate relief efforts. I mistakenly thought that I had something to offer … it turned out, that the Lord had something altogether different in mind!

   For those who might be interested, I’ve included an excerpt from my diary:

   Day Three: Wednesday 26/1/2005 - 3:00 pm

   After lunch, the team is driven to nearby Kalkudah and witnesses first hand, the incredible scenes of devastation. There before us, as we step out of our mini vans, are scenes that are barely imaginable; almost like stepping into a Hollywood disaster, movie set. ‘Nothing could have prepared us for the sights and sounds that now impact us … nothing!’

   We see houses that are obliterated and barely recognizable amid the mounds of randomly stacked, but partially intact brick walls which litter the scene. Large palm trees, once standing tall have been savagely uprooted and randomly scattered as far as he eye can see; they too were forced to yield to the massive impact of the Tsunami. Strangely, amid all the devastation, one lonely thatched hut stands out as testament to the random nature of the Tsunami; this fragile structure has somehow survived the intensity of the disaster that ruthlessly flattened several nearby brick buildings. We spend quite some time wandering around, taking in the enormity of the devastation before us and forming first impressions of the aftermath of the Tsunami in this area.

   We are not to know, that while we are walking among the ruins of this small fishing village and its neighbouring military base we are actually traversing an area littered with unexploded land mines!

   (The following day we are shocked to drive past this same area only to discover that it has been cordoned off because the military have just discovered that land mines had drifted away from the nearby army base and have lodged among the sediment now covering the area. A surreal awakening dawns on us as we stop to ponder the alternative outcome that could easily have befallen us, if not for the grace of God. Here we see a number of families still living behind the tape, in spite of the obvious danger, blissfully ignorant, as were we, of the dangers that lurked below!)

   Kalkudah Methodist Church

   A short distance away we can see the Kalkudah Methodist Church, this is one of the few structures still standing. Upon entering this bastion of hope, which has stubbornly withstood the full force of the Tsunami, we are immediately struck by the sense of emptiness. Also striking, is the clearly evident dark stains on the walls of the church, a visible indication of the mass of water left behind after the Tsunami … 8 feet above the floor level.

   On the morning of the Tsunami, the pastor had been preparing for the service, when disaster struck. The fierce torrent of swirling water took the life of his mother-in-law and his dear wife. He could do nothing to assist them or his congregation, many of whom vanished, some without trace. Still in his office at the time, the pastor was spared and remarkably, was able to save his daughter by placing her on top of a cupboard where the two of them tenaciously clung to the hope of being rescued … the cupboard was the only structure left standing inside the building!

   A number of people are gathered outside, and are already well under way with the restoration of their beloved place of worship, a sure testament to their resilience, symbolised by the tenacity of the church building itself, which stubbornly refused to bow to the might of the Tsunami. We were later made ware that about 700 people had disappeared from this area alone, but that only 360 bodies were subsequently found; the rest they believe could still be underneath the first layer of sediment or had perhaps been swept out to sea. Stories such as this one, although riveting in their initial impact, were to become almost commonplace as we moved among the wreckage. The resilience of the Sri Lankan people is truly inspiring.

   Kalkudah Beach

   We then move a short distance to the beach where we witness more of the after affects of the Tsunami. The vast shore line has been carved out … scarred like the inhabitants memories. Both however, will recover in time. In the distance we can see a spectacular beachfront, which had once proudly displayed several large 3 star International Hotels, undoubtedly quite a remarkable sight at some earlier time. These hotels, had survived both man’s wilful destructive nature, during the recent civil war, and the immense power of a natural, but random disaster.

   The civil war has scarred the entire countryside causing unspeakable damage over a period of 20 years but had recently entered an uneasy truce now just 18 months long. The arrival of this natural disaster has ironically strengthened the calls for peace; although this too, is being severely tested as accusations of unequal distribution of aid and relief are being touted by some. I mused, that these lifeless structures, are perhaps seen by the locals as symbols of courage and tenacity, still standing tall in spite of the magnitude of the devastation that they have stubbornly witnessed and withstood – mocking any attempts to spoil the beauty of this incredible land.

   (We were to learn that the word Tsunami’, is such a foreign concept to the Sri Lankan’s that they have no equivalent word in their language and therefore have to resort to the use of various phrases in order to describe this phenomenon)

   Eye witnesses of the Tsunami in this location; describe to us just how high the wall of water was by pointing out the 12 metre high palm trees nearby that had been dwarfed by the first wave. Large concrete water tanks, weighing many tonnes, which were once located on the beach well above sea level have been forcibly removed from their foundations and carried long distances inland before being smashed apart and left littering the landscape…

   Passekudah Beach

   A short drive from Kalkudah, is the seaside village of Passekudah, it was here that we witness wide spread devastation on a scale that is overwhelming a number of the team. Emotions are running high as we view the destruction wrought by the Tsunami upon the entire village – even large two storey brick buildings were completely decimated by the destructive force unleashed upon the unsuspecting villagers. As we move among the rubble, a few locals, who are still lingering among the debris, are willing to speak with members of our team. Several of us take the opportunity to learn first hand how these people have endured and how well they are coping.

   The Walking Wounded

   (I spoke at length with a middle aged man who was standing on a concrete slab that was once the foundation of his house.)

   As his eyes locked onto mine a profound sadness began to well up from somewhere deep inside; I could literally feel this mans pain but sensed that the Lord wanted me to draw out some of his anguish by listening to his story. Instinctively I gazed around to take in my surroundings … nearby, perched precariously in a tree … the remains of a refrigerator caught my eye as I approached this solitary figure.

   I’m entering his world now and I can sense the anointing increasing … thank God!’

   This lonely looking man identified the remains, as a one time prize possession of his – a symbol of his former prosperity.

   ‘Appearances to the contrary, this man is alert enough to have noticed my momentary glance at the refrigerator … I’m amazed that those lifeless eyes are so attentive …’

   The man spoke freely with me in broken English of the recent events which have decimated this region, and shattered his world.

   ‘He seems to need to relay the details of his nightmare come true … all I can do right now is listen … and try not to be overwhelmed’.

   Close by, placed neatly to one side and resting on a roof tile, are two well read, but tattered and water damaged bibles. The man, in seeing me glance at them, instinctively reached down and lifted them to his breast, holding them tightly as one would a very precious possession. He then pointed to a mound of rubble some several hundred metres in the distance, which he identified as the remains of the Roman Catholic Church - once his place of worship. ‘

   This man has lost not only his natural home but also his spiritual home as well … how is he coping?’

   This lonely looking man seemed somehow to be ‘coming alive’ as he recalled the recent events still vivid in his mind. It was as though he needed to speak of the brokenness and pain he’d experienced even though it was obviously causing him deep distress.

   ‘I’m becoming somewhat enmeshed in this man’s trauma … have to try to maintain objectivity …’

   The solitary figure standing before me then explained that although his son and daughter survived along with him, his dear wife had been swept away by the ferocity of the first wave. Only after some days had passed, was the body of his wife finally recovered amidst the mounds of debris, randomly scattered some distance away from their home.

   ‘Tears are beginning to well up … strangely, he has no tears … perhaps by now they are well spent … or yet to surface?’

   This slightly built, middle-aged man went on to explain that he had the unbelievably difficult task of identifying his wife’s remains; difficult enough under the circumstances, as some days had elapsed, but made even more difficult considering that his wife’s body … had been decapitated!

   ‘That got to me … I’m beginning to lose it … but I guess that means I’m human after all!’ “Lord, please help this man …”

   Profoundly moved by what I was hearing, compassion for this deeply hurting individual continued to well up from somewhere deep inside … ‘Lord please’ … I choked out quietly. I continued to listen intently, as this story of overwhelming tragedy unfolded … I was almost overwhelmed by this mans plight; words failed me … initially … although I somehow managed a reassuring gesture, until the words I was looking for finally came.

   ‘He seems somehow reassured … the presence of the Lord is so tangible … his eyes seem to be more alive now … what an awesome privilege to watch the Holy Spirit at work!’

   Somehow the many pressing matters awaiting me at home seemed to pale into insignificance alongside the challenges faced by this one grieving soul. Instinctively, I reached out in prayer, although humbled by his resilience; I was buoyed by the surge of compassion that rose up within me as the Lord touched his son profoundly.

   “To get a touch from the Lord is so real” … ‘the words of the old chorus come flooding to my mind, as the tears flood down my cheek.’

   Finally, I was able to compose myself and felt led to ask him what he was doing there. He responded simply: “I came back today for one last look”! I then asked him, what he might do tomorrow; his response was once again simple but insistent: “I’ll come back again for one last look”! Finally I pressed, do you mind if I ask how you have coped since the disaster struck? “No, I don’t mind”, he said. “Everyday since the Tsunami, I have come back here, I have stood on what is left of our family home … I needed to take … one last look”! ‘

   This poor soul is simply not ready to let go … and yet the Lord is unmistakably with him …!’’ ‘Oh Lord please, continue to watch over this man …’ I manage to choke out, as I walk away from the man I dubbed and will always remember as: ‘One Last Look’!

   Our brief but powerful encounter I sensed had caused an awakening within my spirit that the Lord would somehow use to make a difference, whether there in the midst of such incredible tragedy or at home among the many who are hurting but don’t know who to turn to.

   No Respecter of Age

   A short distance away, some of the team had come across a young five year old boy, named Alexander, who was accompanied by his 18 year old uncle. Alexander at first glance was not unlike the many other 5 year olds we had met. But as I approached him, still ‘raw’, from my encounter with ‘one last look’, an overwhelming sense of sadness grips my heart. I’m suddenly aware that this youngster is completely void of any emotion!

   Man, those eyes … I’ve never seen such intense sorrow … just staring … almost a look of complete abandonment.’ ‘Everywhere we’ve been to date, the first and most profound feature of these remarkable people to impact me has been their infectious smile. But in Alexander’s case, as I studied his lifeless eyes, I began to wonder if he was even capable of smiling‘.

   As Alexander’s story gradually unfolded we were told that the army had discovered this young boy clinging to the top of a tall palm tree, sometime after the Tsunami had receded - just how long he had been there, was still uncertain. When found, he was dazed, in a state of shock and badly dehydrated.

   As the first wave of destruction had approached this tiny fishing village, Alexander and his young friend were warned of the approaching danger by some of the local fishermen and had climbed to apparent safety. However, a large piece of floating debris had been swept their way by the swirling torrent of water and had struck Alexander’s friend on the side of the head gauging off his right ear, dislodging him from the safety of the tree. Alexander was forced to watch on helplessly as his friend was washed away, to certain death.

   Alexander we came to understand was currently being cared for by this uncle. And although able, Alexander chose not to speak, even when my wife offered him a large packet of lollies; which he readily took and simply clutched tightly … his gaze remained fixed on some distant but unknown object. Alexander’s eyes revealed something of his unimaginable sorrow, a look of incredible sadness, as he simply sat expressionless amid the rubble that was once his family home.

   ‘Oh dear Lord, please manifest yourself powerfully to these people …’

   As I walked away, I became aware that the Lord was already answering that prayer, and that HE would remain close to these people through the sustained efforts His faithful Church.

   Church Alive

   The Christian Church in Sri Lanka, like entire populace, is no stranger to hardship. The incredible resilience and tenacious faith, I witnessed and marvelled at, in the post-tsunami tragedy, ministered more to me; than I could ever have hoped to impart.

   I couldn’t help but wonder how we in Australia with our ‘impoverished’ (but so-called prosperity) gospel would cope under similar circumstances? (See: Revelation Chapter 3: and compare the ‘Church of Philadelphia with the superior (?) Church of Laodicea)

   The arrogance with which we initially came to Sri Lanka with our advanced ministry tools etc, ‘to minister to these poor folk”; would be almost laughable if it were no so pathetic!

   “God forgives (us) we know not what we do”!?

   Once again (as with my trip to China in 2002) I returned to Australia a humbled and transformed soul; realising that the Lord was still answering my long term, passionate prayer:

   “Please make me more like Jesus”!

   Jack-of-it

6. 6
   Janet Says:
   January 10th, 2007 at 3:55 pm

   Wow. Amazing stuff.

   You write really well Jack-of-it… it’s a powerful story.

7. 7
   Greg the explorer Says:
   January 10th, 2007 at 4:39 pm

   Speechless