16Surrender
How I learned the true meaning of surrender in post-tsunami Thailand
One evening in March 2005 I was sitting in the camp manager’s office in Khao Lak with some of the remaining foreign aid workers. He had called a meeting as he felt we had reached a new crisis point. We listened respectfully to this elderly Thai. He was clearly feeling under great pressure. He told us that the charity workers who had sprung to the aid of the Thai people after the tsunami were now leaving in droves.
‘We began with 70,’ he said. ‘Now it’s down to 20, and falling all the time. The hard fact is that the larger charities have already left.’
He didn’t need to explain: we’d often spoken about it in the camps. The Thais, burdened by grief and despair, reliving the trauma of the wave, were quite unaware that a new crisis was looming.
‘There’s no work for these people. What are they going to do? They can’t live on handouts forever.’ Usually reserved and not one to show emotion, he put his head in his hands and his voice wobbled as he spoke. ‘What is going to happen to these homeless people three months, six months, a year from now?’
I needed some quiet time to mull over his words. We had experienced the sheer momentum of the collective international response immediately following the crisis. Now we had to impress on businesses and individuals the importance of the recovery phase. They needed to be inspired to continue to contribute.
I for one wasn’t giving up.
The devastation caused by the wave ...