March 30, 2005

Through hell and high water

Marwela beach before tsunami        Marwela beach after

As an occasional resident of a Sri Lankan fishing village, writer Eric Ellis pitched in to help those ruined by the tsunami. But the plan to finance and organise replacement boats was beset by bureaucracy, connivance and internecine warfare. But as Ellis' diary shows, it was a story with a happy ending.

JOURNALISTS are supposed to be life’s – and death’s – neutral observers. We cold-bloodedly report tragedies like the December 26 tsunami, and that’s all. Helping survivors? Someone else’s job – and we’ll report that too in gripping detail.

But I defy the hardest heart to have stumbled into Marwela (pictured left pre-tsunami and below post-tsunami), a fishing hamlet in Sri Lanka’s remote south, after the killer waves and not be shaken by its utter destruction, the wailing, the smell of death, the desperation of the living. It was a walk into hell. I couldn’t walk away.

I have a personal connection to Marwela. My wife and I bought land here two years ago, to build a holiday home above a gorgeous beach. We made friends. Last visit, I took some photos of our neighbour Sunil, his wife, three kids and their 80-year-old grandma, who we call Umma, Sinhala for mother. We’d stop for laughs and sweet tea at their house, 5m from the sea, on our way to our plot.

Then the tsunami. We were Christmasing in Tasmania. My mother-in-law in England telephoned the news over dinner. It was surreal. We were eating in a famous restaurant, surrounded by well-fed Western yuppies just like us. Their biggest decision was that tough call between the brie or the stilton, the merlot or the cabernet sauvignon. A few days later, I carried bags of food, medicines and clothes, Sunil’s family portraits and the concerns of 10 foreign families in Hong Kong, Singapore, Phnom Penh, Karachi, Paris, London and Melbourne with property here to survivors.

Mercifully, Sunil and family were alive. More than 100 villagers died, 30 praying at a Buddhist temple. The destruction was up to 2km inland (as pictured below). Of the 100-odd communities I’d seen on the 200km trip down from Colombo, Marwela was among the hardest-hit. The stricken survivors said I was the first outsider to arrive.

Someone suggested we “foreign friends” rebuild the fishing fleet, put Marwela back on the water. Good idea. But so many questions. And who to help? And how? Chaotic pre-tsunami, so much of Sri Lanka’s fishing bureaucracy had been washed away. So had many of its local officials and boatbuilders. Bodies were still to be collected. Was it safe to fish? I don’t speak Sinhalese, Marwela doesn’t speak English. How to know who were needy, and who saw a soft foreigner, a walking dollar-bill? How to play God, to decide who gets our largesse? I needed local help but whom to work with? English-speakers tend to be officials but could they be trusted? And what about the complex politics? Village hierarchy? This area is a stronghold of xenophobe Marxists, who draw votes from fishermen. They see foreigners as neo-colonial, and have occasionally been suspected of killing them. They are part of the shaky government coalition and control the fishing ministry and fishermen, who they don’t mind firing up every now and then. Should we even care about politics? We weren’t a registered charity. Are we damned if we do and damned if we don’t? Were my activities legal? Did it matter? Will it backfire? What about local jealousies? Could I be killed?

The money part was easy: about $40,000 flowed into our account in days. I’d never met some of the donors but they’d sent cash anyway, trusting me to be more effective than any NGO or government. Their envoy, I kept donors updated with emails, and phone calls. Looking back, these updates, edited and extracted here, are an anatomy of a direct aid project, its few triumphs, its many frustrations.

JANUARY 3, COLOMBO
“... about to head to Marwela ... should you wish to deliver any messages, seek news, I will be happy to do on your behalf. Provide names, precise locations. I will also try to explore with community leaders, if they are alive, any assistance ...

JANUARY 12, MARWELA
“... Marwela is a very sorry place and unrecognisable. The death-homeless ratio is considerably higher than other communities along the coast. Explained to some villagers their foreign neighbours wish to help, told them to spread the word. They are in considerable distress but thankful we have come ... I explained we can help them but cannot do everything, ultimately it’s their community to rebuild themselves. I said we have no interest in local politics and offered the usual platitudes about tsunamis having no race, colour, religion et al, with sage nods all round ... fell off a fallen palm into a creek ... one chap who’d lost his father and brother said it was the first time he’d laughed since the tsunami.

JANUARY 13, MARWELA
“So much to do ... one could live here for the next six months as the mayor; I intend to be here for another week at most. I want to get a boat or two sorted before bailing out to keep this very simple ...

JANUARY 16, MARWELA
“... met about 60 fishermen, surrounded by wreckage of their houses and boats, with Gamini, Marwela native but now Sydney restaurateur. It was very upbeat, no aggro. After extending our sympathies, a translator explained how the world is moved by their plight, the intent of we ‘foreign friends’ was that the boats are not for any individuals, they belonged to the community and there are no hidden catches, though I did a gag about a free tuna to lighten the tone. ‘We will give you anything you want,’ one chap said, to applause. I said we don’t want there to be any corruption, or stealing, it’s not about favouritism, stressed this was solely humanitarian and if it wasn’t, we would walk away. They explained how the fishing worked, what was lost and what was required. I told them how much we had, we weren’t rich and that this is not about long-term support; boats are about self-help. They wanted the smallest catamarans so as to help, they say, a widest group of fishermen who lost everything. We can afford 30 for now, maybe more. They’ll take about a month to build. To avoid duplication, I’m liaising with as many as possible to say that the small boat-owners are being looked after.

JANUARY 17, MATARA
“... the fishermen placed our order at a government boatbuilder with a yard in Colombo (cos the close ones have been destroyed). They wanted the word TSUNAMI written on them, a bit mawkish but their call. I thought we were late and the builder would be overwhelmed but we were the second order in the country. Some Scientologists and a few wacky (as in Waco) Texan Christians, most of whom had never been to Sri Lanka before and have no idea where they are, have appeared on the beach, dubiously claiming prime ministerial patronage (one of their number is related to a mid-ranking Finance Ministry official), proselytising the desperate while handing out rice ... a bad thing ... with other groups active there doing other better things, we can’t do much except wait for boats to be built ... as more aid groups arrive, there are ugly turf wars among do-gooders and do-no-gooders, and way too much conflicting advice. Some locals say foreign landbrokers are trading aid for cheap land deals, appalling if true.

FEBRUARY 7, MARWELA
“... the tone has changed here dramatically for the worst, quite nasty. Much frustration at the lack of progress in disbursing government aid. Those with undamaged craft are getting grumpy at those wiped out because they are getting new stuff, and demand our new boats. Stuff like this, when added to caste and politics and existing rivalries, could affect the balances on the beach. We have urged co-operatives but they don’t want them. There is aid-dependence, a view that foreigners are limitless. I would have liked the fishermen to stop smoking free cigarettes and start making the poles from trees that form the outriggers for their new boats but many demanded (and were refused) cash to allegedly buy them when I know, pre-tsunami, they pluck them from the jungle ... The beaches are not being cleaned up and there is a view that if they clean them, we won’t pity them and will stop handing out the lolly. Some people have lost a motor but still have a boat, while others have a motor and no boat but with local power plays, political interference and intimidation playing out, they do not see why they should co-operate. Some want replacements for boats they didn’t have ... These issues have to be addressed by us as the boatbuilder demands a list of registrants in order to release the boats, and of course the needy to get them. It is further complicated because many people’s ID cards, and thus their official identities, were washed away. A co-operative is just not going to happen. We now have three working lists, a census-taking of the community, a league table of neediness. Be prepared for a near-zero result on this, no one may care who provided boats, and that they may even be destroyed on delivery, or sold for booze. It’s their life but am checking out insurance to cover the threat of beach warfare after delivery. We have more money so have ordered 30 more boats; maybe that’s the way to solve it, love them to death.

FEBRUARY 11, MARWELA-COLOMBO
“Tone on the beach has lightened but the depth of incompetence, job protection and inertia in the bureaucracy is astounding. Had a big fight with Care, they said we were illegal. Have also arranged for an inspection of our boats for seaworthiness. The ministry insists on fishermen registration, with addresses for each boat, and will not release the boats if they don’t get it. I told them the fishermen don’t have addresses anymore, and the bureaucracy got washed away. This registration need is contrary to info from the baying fishermen who say it’s not necessary. I am sick of hearing five explanations for the same thing, and idiot foreigners are the worst offenders.

FEBRUARY 15, COLOMBO
“... the boats have been completed but the builder is having a few issues with the lists of the needy, which have developed a life of their own; we now have three, with about 200 names for the 30 to 60 boats. The village one may be compromised. Someone said the village head might have five relatives on it, four who have never fished. Fishing Ministry and our lawyers say boats must be registered but a Norwegian who ordered 900 and who set up the boatbuilder 20 years ago says only 15% of SL fishermen are registered ... we have carefully interviewed 300 people in different ways and have pared the needy list down to 30; if it’s 80% right, it’s a good result.

FEBRUARY 19, COLOMBO
“Triumph! The boatbuilder initially rejected our list of lists cos some had no addresses, then accepted it. I think the photograph I took of him may have helped. He said he scolded his colleagues to get it done. This registration is happening as we speak but it may take some time to process as the bureaucracy is now getting back on its feet.

FEBRUARY 22, COLOMBO
“The boatbuilder says the still-unregistered boats will be delivered six a day over five days, from Colombo. That’s ridiculous. I am not going up and down that coast every day for five days, which would mean the boats would not be delivered until 10 or so days from now. I will find five more lorries. These are sensitive times for foreigners and I must undertake these activities as much by the book as I can, even if the book has been washed away or doesn’t really exist. I’ve been here seven weeks now, overstayed my visa by three and my return air ticket is long expired. There was probably a better way but no one offered one, and I couldn’t think of one and so this is the way. This has been fascinating if frustrating but I’m not here for fun, or because I can idly spare a month or two making us all feel good about helping. I’ve had quite enough of Sri Lanka and had it some weeks ago.

FEBRUARY 24, COLOMBO
“... organised three lorries each of 10 boats for delivery tomorrow (at last!) but when I went to the yard, the boatbulder said there was a “little problem” ... much of our nets and gear (and possibly the boats, checking) seem to have been sold to someone else ... A crucial bit of information I would have liked to have known about when I asked last week. Corruption or incompetence? Maybe a bit of both; I suspect a local politician looking for an easy, showy gesture and the stuff was there for the taking ... not a happy camper right now.

FEBRUARY 24, COLOMBO
“The boatbuilder seems as if he had been intimidated by someone but now says he has filled the order. I made a few well-placed calls, so did he. I don’t know what happened in between and don’t care: we have our nets ...

FEBRUARY 26, TANGALLE (7km from MARWELA)
“Finally. Two months exactly to the day since the tsunami, some 30 boats each with 10 packets of nets, five coils of rope, four of twine and sundry other fishing gizmos were handed today to 60 extremely grateful (and I do not exaggerate) registered fishermen of Marwela and Kudawela East. I am also pleased to report the process was extremely orderly, went off without a hitch, was undertaken with a combination of humour, due solemnity and dignity … my hand almost got shaken off and there were even hugs and lots of clasped hands, thank yous, promises of free fish etc. It wasn’t over-the-top, it was correct and appropriate but it was genuine. Sahli, the village official helping process the lists, somewhat poignantly offered little ad-libbed verbal portraits of some of the recipients, “This is Sunasena, he lost his wife and two children, and his boat” and so on. There was no ceremony as such; it was a simple handing-over process. No monks, or prayers or chanting, just no-nonsense fishermen getting their livelihoods back. The masterstroke here was to get the handover done away from the beach, having the beach come to us and not us to them took any mayhem out of what could have been an ugly free-for-all. I must say it was quite pleasing to see these chaps disappear into a Tangalle sunset – it was a gorgeous day – with their boats and gear, some singing fishing songs, though the snaky SMS I got an hour later from a local and unconnected foreigner grumpy she wasn’t invited to the handover was not welcome. I am convinced our list was pretty right and moreover we were quick. The goal was to help people get back on the water. Again, we are underpinned somewhat that the boats went to a lot of people and are not the big boats that the mob apparently likes. Tomorrow? Who knows?