Turner's tales from Sri Lanka: Tsunami warning

On Boxing day 2004 an earthquake off the coast of Indonesia caused a devastating Tsunami all around the Indian Ocean. With waves up to 30 meteres high it killed 230,000 people. One of the worst hit countries was Sri Lanka.

Last week, whilst sitting in The English Hour (see recent post) someone came in and said that a Tsunami warning had just been issued for Sri Lanka. Apparently it was due in about an hour. What to do? Head inland, or to high ground perhaps? All I could think of was that our house is about a couple of minutes from the beach, and that my laptop was sitting on the kitchen table and I would lose it, and everything on it. I'd backed up it all up of course, on an external hardrive wich was also sitting in the kitchen.

So I left my wife and young son in the cafe and jumped in a tuk tuk to go and rescue it of course. Now I know that sounds bad, (abandoning the family) but none of the other westerners in the place seemed to be panicking. I reckoned I could be there and back in 20 minutes. The Tuk Tuk driver didn't seem to be too bothered about driving towards the beach, so I thought if he's not bothered, I'll be alright. When I got home our neighbour came running in in a panic telling me to get inland, and ran around helping me pack. Hilariously he gave me Noah's rubber ring (he's learning to swim) and said it might be useful...fat lot of good in a 30 meter wave, but it's the thought that counts. I asked him where he was going to go, he said everyone was going to church, which is neither very far inland, or on high ground.

In the tuk tuk back to the cafe (and my family) there was a strange mix of people heading at various speeds and states of panic inland. One or two tourists in a right old panic, as well as quite a number of Sri Lankan's carrying on as normal, milling around, in no particular hurry. Back at the cafe the remaining customers had all opted to accept an invitation to the inland home (a couple of km's) of a German lady called Hieda. So I went and stocked up on beer, and off we went.

A few hours (and lots of drinks) later the warning was called off. We were all obviously relieved and so carried on drinking, and eating. I was also quite relieved because I had felt rather torn; as a photographer, shouldn't I have been out there (on a suitably high point) waiting for the 30 Meter waves to come rolling in? Or should I be looking after my family, and drinking cold beers in the really lovely house the nice German lady lived in? Tricky business.

Thinking about it, the strange thing about the whole situation is how varied people's reactions were. There didn't seem to be much coordination in the way people responded. Some were literally fleeing for their lives, whilst others were casually sitting around, as on any other normal day. Heida, who had been living in the south of the country in 2004 and witnessed first hand the devastation was keeping calm throughout the evening, but talking to her later it was obvious she had seen some fairly horrible things the last time.

A couple of weeks previously, on one of mine and Noah's cycle rides (on this occasion along the railway line) we had come across a derelict train. I love stuff thats old and broken, and can't help pointing my camera at it, and this was no exception. After I'd taken a few pictures a man told me that this was the train which had been hit by the Tsunami in 2004, and that it had been the biggest rail disaster in history with around 1700 fatalities. A sobering thought. Perhaps next time I'll just let my laptop get wet.