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I can't stand being raped so I get my genmay buds to change my names back
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Great read about the Tsunami in Phuket, Thailand
Found this on another fourm. Apperantly this is from a Proctor and Gamble employee. This is a great read.
Quote:
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December 26, 2004
Phuket, Thailand
December 26 started off as one of those simply superb days you experience only every once in a great while. It was sunny, not a cloud in the sky. The temperature was pleasant, not too hot, just perfect. We were on vacation. At the beach. In a new and incredibly interesting place. And, we were sitting down to a buffet breakfast that had EVERYTHING you could want—from traditional American fare to local Thai dishes and Japanese dishes. Even Chicken Curry!
We were 7 days into a 2 week vacation and every day had been a grand adventure. We’d bought enough clothes and goods in the dynamic open markets to last us a lifetime! We’d seen Bangkok in all its glory, from the temples to the markets to the seedier areas. We’d spent time doing some business and meeting old friends, including Orapim Milindasuta, the Country Manager of our local operation. In fact, we’d dined with her and friends from Egypt in a traditional Thai dinner on the water just 3 days before.
Here I was sitting on the edge of the beach, now in famed Phuket Island in southern Thailand, eating my third course for breakfast and looking forward to a lazy day of lounging around the beach. Renting some jet-skis. Taking a walk. Swimming with the local elephants in the Indian Ocean.
My wife was sitting across from me, chatting away, and the 4 kids were in the rooms upstairs awakening from sleep or preparing for the day. She was anxiously awaiting me to finish my meal so we could take a 2 hour walk along the beach.
It was, in a word, perfect.
Suddenly, one or two people ran by. You know how you can tell in your gut instinct something is not right? Well, this was the same kind of thing. There is running, like to go back to your room because you forgot something, and there is running for sport, there is running to get your feet off the hot pavement, and there is running from pure terror. This was closer to the latter. No way this was a casual type of running, particularly for many of these folks given their age and/or physical state.
Still a bit unconcerned, more curious than anything else, I turned around casually in my chair and glanced towards the ocean. Dozens of people were moving towards us…..and all moving quite fast. Some were alone, some were dragging kids in tow, and some had their hands full of their personal belongings. I also noticed the sound of whistles, police-type whistles, trailing the people. The one thing they had in common was, they were all running. Like hell.
In those split seconds of time, I instantly started deducing what the issue could be. Shark? No, couldn’t be. Why would they still be running like this 100 meters from the ocean’s edge? Terrorists? This must be it! In fact, there had been warnings all week of impending attacks by Muslim separatists in the south of Thailand. But funny enough, I never heard a bomb or gunshots. What was going on I wondered. Nothing made clear sense.
At this moment the first runner approached us, and I asked her, “What is going on?” She screamed back, “There is a tidal wave coming” and kept on running past me, not even pausing to speak. In a flash, I first thought it was a joke, but then realized with EVERYONE running at top speed, she must be telling the truth. The people at the table next to us jumped up and started for the beach, running against the traffic, screaming for their children. Despite being 99% sure our kids were in the rooms, I instantly had that dread of panic they might be at the beach, and had by-passed us somehow. You know that feeling you have had, that horror when you lose for a moment your toddlers in a big department store, and you think they are lost or kidnapped? Well, multiply this by 10x. That was the level of fear I had.
Amidst the chaos of people now running in all kinds of directions—away from the wave coming; to the beach to find kids; to their rooms; my wife and I dropped the food mid-bite and took off for the nearest stairwell to check the kids. When we got to the top step, a woman, standing alone, asked me, “Do you think this is serious?” She was looking for some reassurance from nothing more than a large sized stranger. Fear was in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. We opened the doors to our two rooms, and thankfully all 4 kids where there. They had heard all the commotion and asked, “Mom, dad, what is going on?” At that moment, we could hear the rush of water and an increased sound of people yelling, and by looking over the edge of the balcony; we could see that the area we had been eating at only 30 seconds ago was now under water.
We looked out over the lagoon area that surrounded the hotel, and it was filling not only with water but with all kinds of debris---boats, chairs, cushions, umbrellas, beds, cars. After a few minutes, the water receded, and we were joined by many people from the second floor who cautiously ventured down the steps to survey the damage.
As the power to the hotel was off (either turned off or shorted out), we knew nothing at this point. And as it was such a beautiful day, the concept of a storm or hurricane simply didn’t make sense. The initial discussions from the “experts” were, this was nothing more than a one-off rogue wave that happened from time to time. On this basis, the threat was “over” and everyone could get back to normal. (It begs the question as much of this came from the hotel staff if this was a story they took, with no facts, to calm down the guests).
All 6 of us then wandered out to the beach and to the edge of the ocean. The damage was immense, with all the beachfront restaurants, massage shops, souvenir stands, simply wiped out. There was nothing left but debris and a few chairs and the roofs of the buildings lying about. Glasses and bottles of whiskey from the bars buried halfway in sand. Trinkets and carved wooden elephants from a shop somewhere that is now gone. I immediately thought to myself, “If this happens all the time, how the heck can these people keep rebuilding their businesses after each rogue wave?” We started to walk along the beach to see the damage at the neighboring resorts. We were joined with literally dozens of other people and families. Everyone walking in silence over the devastation in a kind of blinded stupor.
About 5 minutes into our excursion, suddenly a very calm and quiet ocean started to empty in front of our eyes! And fast. Within seconds the shoreline had moved 20 or 30 meters out and anything in the water was being sucked out. Thankfully nobody had ventured into the water just yet. It struck me that this meant another wave was forming and drawing water from the shoreline to feed the crest, and at that moment the police came running, blowing whistles, and yelling for people to evacuate the beach. I looked out into the distance and saw the wave coming. It was mesmerizing. And the urge to stand and watch it hit was absolutely overwhelming. My wife took the 3 younger kids and ran for the hotel building, the stairs and higher ground. My 19 year old son and I went into a slower jog and kept looking back to watch the wave approach shore. When we were “safely” at a stairwell which we could scale quickly, we turned around and saw the wave strike the shoreline, climb the 5 meter “hill” on the beach, and race towards the hotel.
It was far worse than wave 1 in size. It crashed through the first floor hotel rooms facing the beach and emptied them of all contents. Glass shattered simultaneously in room after room. Luggage could be seen coming out of the rooms. The wave moved huge flower pots, pool tables, objects of enormous weight. A car tumbled over the edge and into the lagoon. The water washed away earth at such a rate, that two 10 meter palm trees crashed down in front of us. As the water level rose, it “chased” us up the stairwell and we kept instinctively ducking as each new crashing noise or tree fell. It was, in short, pure chaos and people running and screaming everywhere.
As the wave crested, my son and I made a dash for our rooms to check on the rest of the family. Enroute, we were confronted with a crying family begging people to help find their missing 12 year old daughter. Everyone just ignored them and ran past, consumed with their own worries. As a father myself, I could not just leave this family. So we stopped, asked for her name, and where she was last seen. So, as the water receded from wave 2, my son and I descended the stairs and went to the lagoons, thinking she would most likely have been washed into the lagoon water had any of the waves caught her.
The ground floor of the hotel, which 10 minutes before had been a quaint collection of shops-on-wheels, patio tables, pool tables, a beautiful fitness center, was completely destroyed. Debris and ocean soot was everywhere. Chairs and tables were gone. The fitness center had electric treadmills sitting under water. Pool tables with huge slate bases were tossed about like toys.
We also still had no information on what was going on. The thinking was the rogue wave had re-fed a second wave when it went back out to sea and the undercurrent created a second wave. The idea of an earthquake—as nobody felt any earlier tremors—was not being discussed.
My son and I went to the lagoons, and by mounting onto some half-functioning docks, started to survey the water and move debris looking for the little girl. Again within minutes, whistles started to sound, people started running and yelling, and clearly wave 3 was coming. We took off running for the stairs to get to high ground.
This was the biggie. The mother of all waves. It literally chased us up the stairs, nipping at our heels like a dog. The shopkeeper behind my son, who was scrambling to save some of his wares, was only a step behind and was engulfed and dragged away—later discovered to be one of the casualties. A lady asked me to just hold her. Some people were clearly in shock and trembling from head to toe. These people were literally terrified into an almost catatonic state.
It is fascinating to examine what goes through the mind of an individual in moments like these. Is the focus purely on survival? Is it complete fear of an impending death? In retrospect I am shocked of what I was thinking. I recall it with absolute clarity. I had no idea, at the time, of the magnitude of what has happening. We thought these were just “big waves” and were a local Phuket phenomenon. We had outrun 3 of them successfully already, and it seemed as long as we were within striking distance of a set of stairs, we’d be fine. The waves were taking out the ground floor, coming close to the second floor, such that with a 3 story hotel complex, there would always be plenty of “insurance” of more stairs to stay ahead of the rising waters. I distinctly recall the adrenaline rushing through my veins and being in a way entranced by the adventure of it all. My son and I were strong and fit and had an obligation to help those in need. It was almost like some sort of an adult game of “tag” with Mother Nature being “it”. Waves recede, we go out to help, to survey the damage, and then outrun the waters when they came to “tag” us. We could always stay one step ahead and get safely back to “base”.
As the big third wave receded, my son and I opted to go to our rooms to meet up with the rest of the family (The little girl was found alive). We found them a bit distraught and on the balcony, looking for my son and I, and also taking pictures as best they could. A knock on the door alerted us to an immediate evacuation, as the structural integrity of the hotel was now in question. Nobody knew how many waves would follow. We packed the bare essentials of money, passports, while leaving the rest and we moved to higher ground at the front of the hotel. We mounted a bell tower which took us up 5 stories, and waited out the next 3 waves---4, 5, and 6---which thankfully got progressively weaker.
It was then I was finally able to take a moment and finding the cell phones still operational, check messages and emails. Already calls were coming in as the news was breaking in Europe. Finally, some clarity and a beginning of understanding the enormity of what had just occurred. The issue was an earthquake. Many people were reported missing and dead. There was a possibility of aftershocks and more waves so we were kept for more time at higher ground.
Some word from the hotel leadership at long last. It was reconfirmed as an earthquake. It was judged safer now, and the clear focus was to get the guests “back to normal” like nothing had happened. We were in this little high-end tourist oasis and within this oasis, everything was to appear fine. The pool re-opened. They brought dancers to keep people entertained. They came around with free ice cream and drinks. It was suddenly as if nothing had happened and just some water damage. Was anyone missing beyond the shopkeeper we saw? Nobody knew. And nobody seemed to be checking. People got back to their vacations.
As we were checking out anyway, and had reservations to depart, we finally went back to our room, claimed our bags and checked out. We learned the airport had closed briefly for water on the runways, but was now reopened. We met people who were urgently booking to leave Phuket by any means possible. All this while plenty went about their vacations like nothing had happened……..
On the way to the airport, and in the airport, it started only then to sink in as to the depth of the disaster. CNN. Bodies on the streets. Flooding everywhere. See how big the quake was. How many countries were hit. Preliminary estimates of 11,000 deaths. An airport mixed with 2 groups of people. One group in panic to leave and buying whatever plane tickets they could get their hands on. The second group standing 4 and 5 deep in front of the TVs, mesmerized by the news and realizing we had all dodged a bullet. A big bullet. Everyone was stunned into silence.
Our flight eventually left. We arrived in Bangkok at midnight. My phone buzzed with stored messages when I turned it on. One was our Egyptian friends checking to see if we had made it out OK. The second informing us Orapim had made a last-minute decision to go to the shoreline, was walking the beach with a friend when the Tsunami hit. The friend was able to grab onto a tree and climb out of the water’s way. The last thing she saw of Orapim was her being swept off in a rush of water.
After more phone calls and a fitful 2 or 3 hours of sleep, I went into our P&G office in morning of December 27th to assist and do anything I could to help on the search and relief efforts. The team did an outstanding job of staying cool and composed and putting in place a crisis center for all worldwide employees in the area within hours. Whilst my desire was to immediately return to Phuket area and look for my friend, in the end I was talked out of it by the local team. First of all, I was scheduled to do more training in the region (Vietnam) the following day and as everyone was looking forward to it, the belief was I could serve the organization better by going on with the training and signaling hope and life continues. Secondly, as a non-Thai speaker, I would likely have been more of a liability—as I would have needed continual translators with me—than a help. So with a heavy heart, and seeing that the crisis operation was in good shape, I prepared to head off to Ho Chi Mihn City (Saigon).
The death rates continued to climb by the hour. 11,000 became 20,000. This soon became 30,000 then 50,000. Then we crossed 100,000 and it became clear this was one of the biggest natural disasters in the history of mankind. The death toll in our hotel complex started at 1, rose to 16 and is currently at 64. Entire families in the water were swept out to sea.
For several days a dedicated team searched for my friend Orapim, keeping their hopes up for a miracle. On Friday December 31, I got a call in Vietnam from Ahmed, my Egyptian friend and head of HR in Thailand. They had found Orapim’s body, and it was confirmed. Our worst fears were realized. The disaster that was too numbing to be comprehended not only touched us each individually, but claimed a dear friend.
We made our way back home. Returned to Bangkok, then to Tokyo, and finally Geneva. Flights interspersed by watching the news. It became an addiction of sorts. Go from the airport, check into a hotel, and turn on CNN, and watch until falling into a restless sleep. Home at last.
We’ve heard from literally hundreds of friends and family. Some people we have not talked to in 10 years or more. Voices from the past.
The questions keep coming. At first they were superficial, such as, “Why did we not get more warning from the authorities? Why were people allowed on the beaches when we knew an hour before the Tsunamis were striking to the south?” Over the past week or so, the questions have become much more deep, and confounding. “What would have happened if I had taken the beach walk only 5 minutes earlier with my wife? Would my kids be orphans today? Why were we so lucky and blessed to have everything work out perfectly—kids sleeping, us taking breakfast right next to a stairwell—while others were in the water, and later dragged to their deaths? Why was I spared and my friend Orapim was not? They keep coming in all shapes and forms. I keep getting chills down my spine. December 26, 2004 will go down in history, another 9/11 in a sense. I was not a distant observer, but right in the middle of it. On the edge of life and death, one random decision, one minute here or there, making all the difference between whether I lived or died.
Day 10 is far worse than when I was running from the waves in ignorance of what was truly happening. The enormity of it all has made the emotional impact much worse.
I already realize the answers will never come. So I have to be positive and not dwell on what I cannot control. I’ve discovered and rediscovered a fresh perspective. That people care. That life is a precious, precious gift, which can be snatched away at a moment’s notice. That to live each day as if it was your last. And to take the gift of life, and make the most of it to make the world a better place. To leave the world a better off than how we found it.
Maybe with the passage of time, this will make it all worth it.
Jim Lafferty
January 6, 2005
Geneva Switzerland
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![General [M]ayhem](/images/misc/logo.gif){kind=logo}
01-07-2005, 02:43 PM
for Thailand
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