In town for the Byron Bay Blues Festival, Spearhead's Michael Franti has taken to the surf for some of his first lessons on a board (and one to match his height). In this case it's a full-size plank! Franti Loves Byron and Byron loves Franti, not the least for his strong anti-Iraq War stance!
On the 29th of March 2005, a benefit concert in Byron Bay raised funds for charities working on the ground with victims of the Boxing Day Tsunami. Michael Franti & Spearhead, as well as many other talented musicians and artists such as The John Butler Trio, played at the concert which rasied approximately $21,000 for charity organisations like Oxfam Community Aid Abroad. The event was organised through the Blues Festival and the Great Northern Hotel, with the great support of Spearhead and other performers. Ian Cohen spoke at the event of his experience in Sri Lanka.
Ah, to escape after a harrowing year in parliament and the arrogance and aggression of a government out of hand. To escape from the tourist takeover of Byron Bay and also to escape from what has become a depressing role I have found myself in near home on the north coast as a greenie ‘cop’ of a local nature reserve, which is steadily being trashed by selfish visitors. As I escaped in late December, my last image of home was of dumped rubbish all over a favourite walking track.
The plan was to retrace a journey I made 30 years ago when I travelled overland through Burma and India to reach fabled Sri Lanka to surf tropical ocean and, at least in my opinion, the best food in the world. The plan, the escape – it all seemed too easy and only two plane trips away, picked up at midnight and delivered beachside, surfboards and all.
Far too easy. Bleary after a 4am arrival but keen, I headed out early for my first surf. It was Boxing Day. The surf had come to meet me, pounding the verandah of the hostel I was staying at and which had been three-metres above sea level.
A chunk of what had been the sea wall washed past me in the surge that had already killed tens of thousands in Indonesia and was now inundating the coast of Sri Lanka. I could see some surfers in the distance paddling for shore – what shore? There is a rumour that other surfers were lost at sea further south.
The whole sea had risen up and the relaxed, former one-metre swell lashed at the retaining walls and the walls of the buildings all along the visible coastline. I retreated to the front room of the hostel, still holding my surfboard like some sort of security blanket. I tried to close the door but it broke apart against the surge of water. I retreated further to a pole house nearby to try and avoid the crash and retreat of debris.
As the water rose it poured down the corridor of the house and I moved again to another room to escape the surge. I couldn’t stay there long though as the water was rising quickly and within seconds the room was 1.5 metres high and I was struggling to keep my gear intact.
Then, in an instant, the sea retreated hundreds of metres, exposing the reef. I went to the beach to check for injured people. Everyone was in a state of shock. Picking up kitchen utensils seems pointless but simple actions like this were already happening all along the shattered coast, salvaging some of the loss.
Sri Lankans often say “What to do?”. This everyday statement took on new levels of meaning as the devastation was revealed.
Twenty minutes after it retreated the sea came rushing back in again. I moved back to a road and try to calm myself and panicking locals, some of who couldn't find their children. I helped check two of the houses nearby before coming back and directing people up to the second floor of buildings across the road.
The sea continued to surge and all we all could only watch and wait, not knowing who had been lost, not knowing that hundreds had been swept away from a marketplace two-kilometres up the road. At that stage none of us really had any idea of the real catastrophe unfolding.
For two days people were in shock, tourist deaths were relatively low but 10 deaths were reported in Hikkaduwa. Some had died in their sleep, walls collapsing on them.
The group of people I was with retreated to a tourist hotel 200-metres inland and there we heard rumours of another wave and of the threat of looting.
Some wanted to travel to a hospital or see a doctor. Problem was, there were none. The Galle hospital had been destroyed, the road to Colombo was closed and the rail line was mangled. A train, with hundreds on board, had been swept of the rails. There was the sobering sight of a bus being towed through town, the entire roof crushed like aluminium can. Buses here are always packed.
The first reaction was to try and overcome the crushing immobilisation affecting the entire local community and start cleaning out the beachfront residences. Furniture and books were taken outside for drying but perhaps the most important thing was that the locals saw a few tourists willing to help.
The tourist industry needs to recover as the employment benefits are substantial but I have also observed that many people here have fantastic family support and the ability to borrow many things they need to survive on, including dwellings.
Ian helping with relief efforts after the Tsunami in Sri LankaAction on cleaning up after the carnage began as soon as the initial shock began to wear off. Bulldozers were, thankfully, quickly sourced and large amounts of debris were cleared. A plan was put forward to fill a man-made lake and there seemed little other option as dangerous materials, such as asbestos, was piled in with vegetation and other masonry. All I could do was inform the workers of the danger of asbestos and advise them to wear masks. Kerchiefs around workers’ faces proliferated but I felt a real sense of powerlessness, as I feared not only the aftermath of the tsunami but also the possibility of widespread asbestosis in the years to come.
A further horror of the tsunami was the number of children that were lost or separated from their families in the floods. This scenario was repeated all over Sri Lanka, including the capital Colombo. However, the worst of the devastation was found along the south and eastern coastlines, which faced the full force of the tsunami. This was followed a few days later with flooding rains in the northeast, which inundated the already saturated environment with another devastating flood.
As I moved around what had been Hikkaduwa, I was directed to a Buddhist temple in the northern suburbs. In this small space I saw the unfolding drama and hardship that follows such disasters. 150 families were huddled together with nothing but the clothes they wore.
Evidence of the damage done was everywhere and as I made my way by bicycle through surrounding villages I could see that even a kilometre inland, peoples’ lives had been devastated, their livelihoods destroyed. Fishing boats had been tossed aside and lay high and dry with gaping holes in them. That or they had been ripped apart and now only their bows were visible above the waterline.
The environmental implications are also stacking up. The constant seepage of diesel and oil into the surrounding environment is just one example of the ongoing problems Sri Lankans will have to deal with.
I have been working with Suranajan Kodithuwakku of Green SL, a grassroots aid organisation with green principles and a stated commitment to get aid to the source directly and to avoid the much-talked-about diversion of aid to sectional interests.
With allied groups operating in the northeast, Green SL aims to cover the entire coastline, sending a direct lifeline to all affected communities in an operation they describe as ‘picking up loose ends’. They took me to Galle, where Green SL representatives were working on street cleaning operations. Then to Sambodhi, home of the physical and mentally disabled which housed 125 children, 40 of whom died in the tsunami.
The office in Colombo is a busy hub - unloading of food supplies (helping to unload a hundred sacks of curry powder really does test your senses) and frantic co-ordination of relief guidelines taking place, surrounded by new water tanks ready for delivery.
The floods also uncovered and dispersed deadly military hardware. Land mines especially have been moved by the floodwaters and the location of each is now not known. While this is really a job for the UN to deal with, Green SL is undertaking volunteer training. In the long term they are looking to gather legal teams to address many of the land issues that arise, including deed disputes. It is necessary to train children and youth, to give the next generation some opportunity, as there are significant numbers now without parental support. There will be a need for an ongoing commitment to these children, from their early years to university level so that there will be professionals for the future.
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