Golden tsunami

It’s been 2 years since the devastating Asian Tsunami, but many of the worst affected countries are still struggling to recover. Over 30,000 people died in Sri Lanka. Millions were made homeless. Despite billions of dollars that have flowed into the country, many coastal Sri Lankans continue to lack permanent housing...



The seaside town of Kalmunai was never much of a tourist destination. Kalmunai is a bustling commercial hub where you can buy textiles, appliances, and just about anything made of plastic. There are no fancy hotels or restaurants. Rather there are cheap local restaurants that are called “hotels”.

Recently I went to Kalmunai with a group of local journalists I’ve been working with. We stumbled out of a van, just a short walk from the sea. It was a mess--tsunami rubble still strewn about. But it was strangely beautiful. The outline of destroyed brick houses framed the intense green of palm trees and the deep blue of the sea beyond. What houses were left were painted in bright sometimes fluorescent colors. They played off the vivid colors of men’s sarongs and women’s dresses. A group of teenage boys sat on the side of a boat smoking and gossiping, while a very young girl played in the sand wearing a lacy pink party dress that had seen better days.

My reverie didn’t last long. Within minutes, I was surrounded by nearly hysterical children. So very cute. But the first words to escape their precious mouths was “money?” One particularly savy girl could say “What is your name?” But for the most part the only English words they knew was “money”.




We were there to interview residents of the infamous ‘buffer zone’ area of Kalmunai. Kalmunai was devastated by the tsunami. Something like 10% of Sri Lanka’s tsunami deaths came from this town alone.

The ‘buffer zone’ is an area of the coast—15 meters from the sea (it varies depending on the region you are in), where the government has ordered that no rebuilding will take place. The government says this will protect people from future disasters. But rumors circulate that the government is really doing it so they can claim the coastal land for possibly lucrative future real estate deals.

Whatever the reason, the end result was less than satisfying to residents of the buffer zone. Aid groups built structures further inland. But none of the fisherman whose homes were destroyed wanted to live in them. How would they get to work—i.e. the sea. They had no transport. So some of the homes remain vacant while many people continue to have no permanent shelter. Currently a number of families have been petitioning local government to address their ongoing lack of housing.

More than 7 thousand Sri Lankan fishermen were killed and more than 22 thousand fishing boats were destroyed. For them and other coastal residents the tsunami reconstruction has been deeply confounding.

These cities have hosted what some call a ‘second tsunami’, comprised of INGO workers. Driving around the town you can follow a train of INGO signage. You can find how to get to the offices of Save the Children, Solidarity, or UNICEF. You can even see what these groups have built—as each has its own ‘branding plan’. They put their ‘brand’ on everything—from buildings, cars, motorcycles, even bus stops. ‘This light post was brought to you thanks to…’ I find it a bit obnoxious.



Some have even called it a ‘golden tsunami’. Billions of dollars washed in when the waves went out. A new economy was built of INGO staff… drivers, cleaners, translators, office managers, security guards. The tsunami lined government pockets as well. But for the homeless fisherman, two years on, it’s not always clear where this money has gone. I’ve heard unconfirmed claims of housing being donated by the aid community only to find that government is charging people to move into them. Regardless to the veracity of these claims the perception is not helping. Sadly I’ve even heard some people say they wish there would be another tsunami, so more money would wash in.

Others have complained how increasingly donor reliant attitudes have damaged the Sri Lankan cultural willingness to help one’s neighbor. One man spoke of a person borrowing a screwdriver from his neighbor. When he returned it a day later, the man asked for money for use of the screwdriver. This would have never happened before he said. But as I walked through the sand surrounded by children questioning me about “money?” and ‘which ngo?’ I can see that it will be difficult if impossible to undo the damage the tsunami has caused, long after the houses are rebuilt.

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