Post Tsunami Fear Lingers

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This past weekend I experienced many things; one in particular is how nice it is to live in Ao Luk, Thailand versuses a tourist area such as Phi Phi Island (pronounced as "pee pee" island).

Several other volunteers and I wanted to get away from an in-land area and enjoy the ocean and all the relaxing pleasures that go along with it. No doubt there was some of that, but for half of one of the two days in Phi Phi we experienced the exact opposit of relaxation.

Imagine yourself and a couple friends lying around on the shore of a beautiful ocean bay, with mountains and rock formations surrounding you. Everyone takes turns dozing off, wading in the knee-deep water, and exploring the land. There aren't too many other people present because of the overcast above, but it makes it that much more peaceful.

You are just waking up from a nap and all of a sudden, out of no where, loud, persistent sirens start going off. There is a man speaking a foreign language (Thai) over a loud speaker and the only thing you can understand out of everything he is saying is "prode" (please). Everyone around you (swimmers, snorkelers, sun bathers, workers) begins panicing and running as fast as they can off the beach.

This is exactly what happened to me.

I was with two other volunteers that day- Cate (from Colorado) and Katie (from England). The three of us didn't really no what to do at first. I guess it didn't help that we are all exhausted from hours of traveling by taxi, bus, and then an hour and a half boat ride just to get to Phi Phi. And not to mention that we are all pretty laid back individuals to begin with. We just stood there, watching as people ran, and were trying to figure out what the hell was going on. I immediately thought no way could this be a tsunami. I just assumed that something was wrong (maybe a fire or riot), and that everyone was running off the beach because of their pre-existing fear of a gigantic wave sweaping them away.

The three of us were the very last ones off the beach. As we were walking Cate and I were picking up shells, and Katie was busy trying to find out if the nearby pool bar was still open. She informed us it wasn't. They were already gone as well.

Just before we got off the beach I found a Thai beach bum and prayed that he could speak English to tell us what the hell was going on. I approached him and he said, "Tsunami is coming. But no worry. You can climb my tree." As he was saying "tree" he turned around and pointed to this gigantic tree that was probably as wide as a small car. I was thinking "okay, why not. I love climbing things anyways." We remained there for a few more minutes before Katie finally said (after extensively analyzing the tree), "I don't think I'm going to be able to climb that." We left the beach a couple minutes later after thanking him for his help.

We had no idea where to go, what to do, who to find. The only people that were left in the area were some Thai men that I guess didn't fear a tsunami threat. As we continued to walk I was seeing Thai mothers running with their infants, kids following their fathers, lovers holding hands to escape together, and just absolute panic and fear. Within five minutes shop owners had closed up and left. Around some corners that we turned there was no one. It had become a ghost town in less than fifteen minutes.

We eventually came across a young Thai man just leaving his shop, carrying the one thing I guess he couldn't bare to part with- his guitar. I figured he would lead us to somewhere safe since he knew the area, so we proceeded to follow him. He didn't know that we were relying on him to bring us to safety, but it didn't matter because we soon enough reached the "evacuation site" (one of several).

Phi Phi built these steps that lead to the top of the mountain, away from the ocean and its rage. The three of us took a brief glance at each other and began climbing, following in the footsteps of more than seventy-five others that had been already waiting at the top.

Once we realized it wasn't neccessary to climb any further (mostly because there was a bar for Katie), we just sat and waited to hear something, see something- anything. Katie's idea of "well if we are going to die we might as well go pissed" (drunk) finally rubbed off on Cate and I. As Europeans and Thais talked around us, we were hearing all kinds of stories. One man told us there was an earthquake in the Adaman Sea. Another woman told us there was an earthquake in Indonesia. The list of gossip kept growing.

Two large Changs (a Thai beer with 7% alcohol), and twenty five mosquito bites later (which turned out to be about two hours), we received word from a Phi Phi resort worker saying "No Tsunami. Mistake. Mistake."

People slowly began walking down the steps, skeptically. We were enjoying ourselves at that point so we remained there for a little while longer. It was a good thing too, because the bartender, with the English nickname "Artie", informed us of the beautiful sunset view at the very top of the mountain. We all purchased a water and began our half hour climb to the top.

It was the most amazing view in Thailand so far, even better than the view from the top of the Tiger Temple Cave. We made it just in time to see the last twenty minutes of the sunset. Simply put- breathtaking. Once the sun set, the other thirty people that were there began walking down. Katie packed a flashlight so we were in no worry. We remained there for a least a couple more hours, just talking, drinking, laughing, and reflecting on what the hell we had just experienced. Katie brought up a really good point. "If that hadn't happened today, we wouldn't be here enjoying this right now." The moon was full and bright, and the afternoon couldn't have ended better.

It might seem a little twisted and derranged to some of you, but I have always wanted to experience a horrific disaster (preferrably one onset by mother nature). I believe it goes along with me wanting to obtain as much knowledge and experience I possibly can whether its good or bad. It all piles into one whole anyways.

Being in the midst of a potential natural disaster taught me a lot about myself. I became curious, observant, and wanting to absorb and remember as much as I could; I am such a born journalist at times. I wasn't scared. I was calm. It wasn't until I started to see the Thais running, closing their shops, and abandoning everything that my perception changed (and a wicked set of the chills ran down my spine). This wasn't the first time for them. They had immense fear and concern across their faces. If I was in their situation I would have been thinking, "Not again."

Their land was still under a mass amount of construction- some abandoned sites but mostly areas in the middle stages of being rebuilt. A thought ran across my mind the next day; do they have insurance? Is it even an option for them? And if so, can they even afford it? I don't think many have recovered yet.

Seeing how the Thais already live simply and don't really care about possessing material items, a much more significant loss for them would be their loved ones. It is so refreshing to see the closeness they share with one another (whether they are related or not). I am able to observe this greater in my classes.

There doesn't seem to be an age barrier between them, nor any predetermined gender roles. The males are very tender towards each other. They are not afraid to sit closely, nor touch one another. It is extremely common to see one male student with his hand on another's leg (in an endearing way of course, nothing sexual). It is also really common to see four men riding together on one motorbike. Thais are very involved in each other's lives.

Another observation made while staying on Phi Phi Island is how different the natives were there compared in Ao Luk. A majority of the Thais on Phi Phi have been tainted by rude foreigners. It is really a shame because they have such a lovely culture and way to them. When we first got off the boat on Saturday a man approached Cate and I asking us if we wanted a boat ride. We told him "No thank you. We are going to walk." His response had us in shock after all the gentle and kind people we have been living around in Ao Luk. "If you want to walk, walk back to America. Get out of here." It would be a shame for vacationers to Phi Phi to receive only these kinds of interactions with Thai people, and form their opinions based on them. It is a good example of how you really have to get away from the beat-n-path to fully experience a country and its inhabitants.

Well, the exhausting weekend is over and we are back (safely) in Ao Luk. Home sweet home. It was a breath of fresh air walking down the streets here and saying hello to everyone that I come into contact with on a daily basis (between walking to class and the market).
Back to teaching and learning!!!!!!!!

I miss you all.

sending you smiles, kisses, and a least 15 minutes of non-stop laughter,

~Vanessa

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Photos

Sunset at the top
After the Tsunami scare, we enjoyed the peaceful view from the top.