Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of the tsunami that caused the deaths of an estimated 160,000 people throughout Southeast Asia and as far away as Africa. Destined to be written in history books among the deadliest and most shocking natural disasters of our time, it was also the catalyst for what has since been called the largest humanitarian relief effort ever mounted. For many Taiwanese, that effort continues today.
In August of this year I visited Hambantota, Sri Lanka, the southeast coastal community hit hardest in that country, and also the recipient of its largest wave of humanitarian relief. This is one of the dozens of places throughout region where the Taiwanese Buddhist organizations Tzu Chi Foundation
By some measures, rebuilding was well underway by August. By other measures, it had only just begun and still had a long way to go. Dharma Drum had already built a community of several dozen houses on a tract of land well inland from the coast. Tzu Chi, whose blue and white clad volunteers had been on the ground since the first week following the disaster, had only a single house built; the first of 920 homes, two schools, and several other public buildings planned for their Great Love community.
"We expected to spend the first weeks on the ground feeding people and tending to their wounds," said Danny Lee, the head of Tzu Chi's office operations in Hambantota, where he has been since the first week of January. "What we didn't expect was the degree to which we'd be tending to psychological wounds. The people were traumatized. They hadn't sought medical treatment because they had been looking for family members lost in the tsunami." Though most of Sri Lanka's 1,340km of coastline was at least partly swamped by the tsunami, at Hambantota the biggest of the waves was reported to have been nearly 9m tall when it swept across the city's low-lying peninsula area, knocking the second stories off houses dozens of meters from the shore. Of the 36,000 victims in hundreds of Sri Lankan coastal communities, the largest number was in Hambantota.
A man named Sumanthra, who found his way to Tzu Chi's clinic, had lost his wife, three daughters and seven other relatives. He was only able to save his two youngest children -- one in each arm -- by outrunning the waves.
A Muslim man named Doole lost his wife and all six of his daughters. Islamic funeral rites call for the body of the deceased to be wrapped in white cloth before being laid to rest. He never found any of his loved ones. Failing to give them a proper Muslim burial, he said, would be the greatest regret of his life.
Yasawathee had spent the weeks following the tsunami with her despondent mother-in-law. Her husband and father-in-law were selling goods together at the market the morning of the tsunami. Neither escaped. Despite her own grief, Yasawathee said she feels for her mother-in-law, who lost both a husband and her only son.
Didiyo Kotambaran escaped the waves by jumping into a tree and climbing. He held on as the water pounded his back and ripped his sarong off him. When the water subsided seconds later, his house was gone. Luckily, his wife and 10 month-old daughter were next door at his father house, which was spared. They all survived, at first because of luck and later with the help of humanitarian aide.



