Disasters
In late 1993, I took a backpacking trip around Southeast Asia to see how the rest of the world lived. One of the places I visited was a small island off the coast of Phuket, Thailand. Phi Phi (pee pee) Island is pretty tiny, with a small isthmus surrounded by towering peaks.
The main "village" (if you can call it that) was right in the middle of the isthmus. My travelling partner and I got a small hut on the beach within walking distance to the center. During the day, we would sit on the beach and eat pinneapple; at night, we would drink Sang Thip with the local fishermen, watch the amateur boxing matches or dance with a bunch of Swedish tourists. The island had no phone except for a radio at the local military camp on the other side of the island. The TV was switched on for 1 hour a day to broadcast the BBC news. All electricity was shut off at midnight.
One of the fishermen I met was a wiry guy with a wife and 4 kids. (That's his boat on the left).
Other than the boat, he had a small hut and some clothing. He would wake up at 4AM to pilot his boat from a neighboring island to the local spots, cast his net, and then bring his catch to PhiPhi to sell. He then would take tourists out for day trips to the surrounding idylls for $2 a day. After dropping us back on the island, he headed back out and fished the afternoon catch, followed by Backgammon (I honestly don't think he knew how to play), Sang Thip and cigarettes. Finally, when the electricity went off, he climbed back in his boat and went home.
One day, while walking in the shallows off the beach, I cut my foot on a sharp rock. It bled like crazy and though the ex-military, red-haired Irishman who owned the huts said it would heal just fine -- just put plenty of Iodine on it -- after 4 days it was swollen and red to the point that I could no longer walk on my own. Through broken English, my fisherman friend said it looked bad.
That night, while sitting in the outdoor bar/boxing ring, I suggested to my travelling partner that we probably should go to Bangkok to a proper hospital. Just then, I saw out of the corner of my eye the pictures from the TV -- flames shooting into the air, destruction, panic -- the 1994 Northridge Earthquake.
We hurried to the military camp to use the phone, but we could not get through for 2 days. Time stopped. I worried constantly about what might have happened to my family. When I finally got through, I learned that my family was alright, but that things in LA were a mess. We got on the next boat out and headed back to Phuket and eventually home.
Eleven years later, I'm sitting on the couch in my livingroom. My foot and my city have healed just fine -- just scarred.
The first news of the Tsunami disaster comes in. They mention Thailand, then Ko Phi Phi Island, which had grown considerably after Leonardo DiCaprio made "The Beach". I instantly think of my fisherman friend and wonder if he or his family is still alive. In the coming weeks, I learn and see more of the growing devastation.
Time goes by and I read reports that people are getting back to their lives there. But I still want to go back to see for myself.
The main "village" (if you can call it that) was right in the middle of the isthmus. My travelling partner and I got a small hut on the beach within walking distance to the center. During the day, we would sit on the beach and eat pinneapple; at night, we would drink Sang Thip with the local fishermen, watch the amateur boxing matches or dance with a bunch of Swedish tourists. The island had no phone except for a radio at the local military camp on the other side of the island. The TV was switched on for 1 hour a day to broadcast the BBC news. All electricity was shut off at midnight.
One of the fishermen I met was a wiry guy with a wife and 4 kids. (That's his boat on the left).
Other than the boat, he had a small hut and some clothing. He would wake up at 4AM to pilot his boat from a neighboring island to the local spots, cast his net, and then bring his catch to PhiPhi to sell. He then would take tourists out for day trips to the surrounding idylls for $2 a day. After dropping us back on the island, he headed back out and fished the afternoon catch, followed by Backgammon (I honestly don't think he knew how to play), Sang Thip and cigarettes. Finally, when the electricity went off, he climbed back in his boat and went home.
One day, while walking in the shallows off the beach, I cut my foot on a sharp rock. It bled like crazy and though the ex-military, red-haired Irishman who owned the huts said it would heal just fine -- just put plenty of Iodine on it -- after 4 days it was swollen and red to the point that I could no longer walk on my own. Through broken English, my fisherman friend said it looked bad.
That night, while sitting in the outdoor bar/boxing ring, I suggested to my travelling partner that we probably should go to Bangkok to a proper hospital. Just then, I saw out of the corner of my eye the pictures from the TV -- flames shooting into the air, destruction, panic -- the 1994 Northridge Earthquake.
We hurried to the military camp to use the phone, but we could not get through for 2 days. Time stopped. I worried constantly about what might have happened to my family. When I finally got through, I learned that my family was alright, but that things in LA were a mess. We got on the next boat out and headed back to Phuket and eventually home.
Eleven years later, I'm sitting on the couch in my livingroom. My foot and my city have healed just fine -- just scarred.
The first news of the Tsunami disaster comes in. They mention Thailand, then Ko Phi Phi Island, which had grown considerably after Leonardo DiCaprio made "The Beach". I instantly think of my fisherman friend and wonder if he or his family is still alive. In the coming weeks, I learn and see more of the growing devastation.
Time goes by and I read reports that people are getting back to their lives there. But I still want to go back to see for myself.
posted by Lou at 2:32 PM
1 Comments:
Hey Lou, I really enjoy reading your blog. Re: Phi Phi
One of my fellow teachers at swes was there on Dec. 27. She said that this particular area was fine. I hope that this report is true for the sake of your fisherman and his family. In the mean time, we have to continue to take up collections for those "salami victims" as one of our kindergarteners described them. Thank God for the innocence of children! And watch out for your lunchbox!
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