Friday, December 26, 2014

A 10 year reflection on the anniversary of the Indian Ocean Tsunami

Today marks the 10 year anniversary of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami.

Around the world, in both public and private moments, individuals, families and communities are stopping to remember the impact of an earthquake that produced a tsunami that reached, in some places, over 100 feet (30+ meters).

Ten years ago, I was living in Singapore, and found myself on a beach in Phuket, Thailand when the disaster hit. Today, my life has placed me in Sydney, Australia.

Like many survivors or families of individuals lost in the tsunami, for the last months, I knew the ten year anniversary was coming. It is one more year than nine. One year less than eleven. But the number ten seems to be a number that if far enough away from 2004 that it requires you check in to see how you are feeling about a frightening and sad anniversary.

Over the last week, I have spent time being interviewed by newspapers and making television appearances as a “spokesperson” for survivors. No one has asked the question. But I am sure some must wonder. “Rick, it is ten years later. Why don’t you move on?” They don’t dare ask it in the interviews. But many ask that related question to find out, “Are you still suffering from the loss?”

December 26, 2014 "Sunrise" Channel 7 interview of Rick Von Feldt
on the 2014 Tsunami, Sydney Australia

For survivors that lost loved ones – a son or daughter – a brother – a girlfriend, boyfriend or spouse – the answer will always be, “Of course I suffer.” Anniversaries remind individuals of the loss of others – but also the horrific seconds – minutes and hours during the day and days following of the tsunami.

For other survivors, like myself, who happened to get a lucky break that day, we reflect on what could have been. But as many tell me, the goal is to put it in the past – and move on. We were lucky enough to have survived. Why keep dwelling on what might have been?

For me, writing and providing a site for reading helps two different people. With the tsunami now really being a part of history (it is amazing to me that it is already 10 years ago!), I want to keep the stories alive of survivors for others to read about. Every day, close to 500 people read this site. It might be only for a minute. Others write to me and tell me they read the first story, and go on to read story after story, drawn in to the drama of life and survival. One of my favorite uses of the website is when entire school classes choose to study the tsunami. It might be for a literature class – and they read about the tsunami. Other times, it is a science project and they want to learn about the science behind the tsunami. Either way – the stumble upon the internet of these stories – and it suddenly becomes real. Real people. Real challenge. Real horror. Real loss. And real survival.

Three weeks ago, a school librarian in Knoxville, Tennessee wrote and asked if I would be interested in speaking to a class about my experiences with the tsunami. When possible, I always say yes to any school type project. Once the teacher announced the project, other teachers suddenly wanted to participate. By the time my actual Skype call happened, the event was broadcast via televisions to every classroom in the school. The discussion and interview lasted nearly 30 minutes. Later, the librarian wrote and said that the discussion made a human impact on how kids understood what really happened.

Each survivor – each family member or friend that lost someone – deals with the horror, memory and loss in different ways. For me – I write, and represent the story of survivors.

Each of also has our own challenge that we must also overcome.

My journey to Phuket in 2004 was to be near the ocean. Born in the middle of America, I was not privileged to live near the water growing up. But after seeing the Pacific Ocean for the first time as a young teenager, I was hooked by the sound – the site and the life giving as well as destructive nature of the ocean.

Since then, beaches, sunsets over beaches and water draws me to their edge. Like so many, the tsunami, created this dramatic mixed emotion for me. I wanted to be near the beach – but in doing so, it also created an anxiety
.
Over the last ten years, I have returned to the ocean. I have convinced myself that I will be ok on those visits. I always know where the tsunami evacuation routes are. I am conscious of the highest spots around me. Friends or family traveling with me won’t see me doing this. It’s my own small ritual. But it is on my mind.

When walking on beaches, low tides scare me. In all honest, I don’t quite believe them.
For me, in 2004, the tsunami started with what appeared to be a low tide. It got lower and lower. But few people stopped and said, “When does it cross over from low tide to a tsunami withdraw?” Most didn't – and many paid the price for it.

For the last ten years, one of my goals is to sleep in a cabin on the beach. I have not been able to do that. During the day, when I can see the water and the beach – I always feel as if I am in control. I can run. I can climb a tree. I can see the low tide getting lower – and make the choice to scream and shout to everyone to “get off the beach – a tsunami is coming” which I have done in my dreams and nightmare countless times over the years.

If you are in a bedroom, with the door closed, that is not so easy. For the last ten years, I have returned to the beach, but always stayed in hotels in at last the fourth story or taller. Or away from the beach. And when I could still hear the ocean, I felt myself hold my breath when for some reason, I didn't hear that regular splash of wave.

My goals to commemorate this ten year anniversary was to stay in a cabin, on a beach.

I wasn’t ready to do that in Phuket. But two weeks ago, I returned to Thailand, and went to another island called Koh Chang. It is an island south of Phuket – and is more protected by the Gulf of Thailand than the Andaman Sea facing Phuket. 

Koh Chang Thailand - in the Gulf of Thailand, less exposed to a tsunami than Phuket.
I rented a cabin within 10 meters of the beach – and spent every evening watch the sunset. I spent moments each day reflecting on the beauty of nature – and the unintended events when nature collides. Each day – I saw the low tide, and watched carefully to see how far it would go out – and when it should be returning. I focused on the beauty and blessings and sunsets. And not on what might be bad or might go wrong.

That is the path that most survivors have taken over the last ten years. Some have returned to Phuket to retrace their steps. Others have gone with family or friends to give the a glimpse of the bad bedtime story that they have tried to share for so many years.

In the end, we grieve, celebrate and miss the people who did not survive that day. And the rest of us do what we can to move on – to celebrate - to remember and to live.


To all of those that lost someone special on December 26, 2004, I am thinking about you today. And to the survivors – may you have the strength to move on and thrive in your own way.  How did each of you commemorate the day? And please let me know if I can help share your story.

Labels: , , , , , , , , ,

Saturday, December 26, 2009

FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THE TSUNAMI

December 26, 2009

THE FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF THE TSUNAMI

It is the end of the day. Of just another day to most. But for a few thousand people – perhaps even ten thousand people around the world, this day is not just an ordinary day. For many of us, we are taking the day to mourn losses of family or friends. And at the same time, we are also celebrating our lives. Both in the same day. Both on the anniversary of when a tsunami struck in southeast and south Asia in 2004.

It is a confusing day for many people. For those in the region, it is a day of walking silently to the water. To offer prayers and thoughts and sadness and thanks – perhaps all in one breath – to something or someone that we felt responsible for the day.

For a small group of us, not living in or traveling anymore to Asia, it becomes a day of mixed emotion. How do we think about the day? How do we commemorate.

For the last four years, I have made it a point to tell people about my day. I have spent the day, sometimes alone, thinking about that fateful day in 2004. I spent time writing emails to other survivors. Some were new friends made through the website. Others were people who literally stood side by side with me – watching the waves come and go – taking life with it each time – five years ago.

But today was the five year anniversary. Should I do something special? Should I stay home and mourn? Should I send out an email to friends and family, reminding them of the day, lest they forget?

But not today. Not on the five year anniversary. From this day on, it becomes a personal day for many of us. Today, instead of CNN talking about tsunami anniversaries, they moved on to other tragedies – or perhaps avoided tragedies of a potential terrorist aboard a plane from Amsterdam to the Detroit. But that is a good thing. It is time to move on – so that this day is not longer a press day – and instead, becomes an intimate reminder, based upon what each individual needs the day to be!

In years past, I have reserved this day after Christmas as a reflection day. I would mark the time of the earthquake. The time of the first wave. And then of the second, even more deadly wave. I would read through my journals of the day. I would look at the pictures of devastation. I would read all of the survivor stories at the website www.phutkettsunami.blogspot.com.

It was a day to reflect. And wonder. And mourn. And just be in the moment.

But this year, a confusing activity happened. A long lost friend invited me out for beers and dinner. I had not seen him in a long time, and he was in the middle of a career change.

Should I politely decline, by telling him it was my “memory day?”

But a voice in side of me, told me it was more important to be in the now – and to move on. I want to preserve the memories of the day. But a simple anniversary – a day marking an event – should not be a deciding factor to living the more important day.

I spend the evening today, having beers, listening to his strife of career change. I tried to be as present as possible. A few times, a fleeting thought of, “well, you think you had it bad – you should feel the mourning of a few people around the world…”

But I didn’t.

I was tempted a few times to casually work the topic into the discussion: “And oh, yeah, by the way, do you know what I am commemorating today?”

But over the years, I have realized that that question or comment leads very quickly into a deadend discussion.

“Oh, someone might comment. That is right. How do you feel?” Or they might ask, “Wow – are you ok?”

But no answer can really help the situation. Nor will it make them or you feel any better.

It happened. Then. And today is now. And memory and loss and thinking, now five years later, is simply personal.

This evening, after I returned home from the beer and food with the friend, I went to my Yahoo headlines. I suspected to see something like, “Survivors commemorate the five year anniversary off the Tsunami…” But instead, the headlines read, “Nigerian man charged in Christmas airliner attack” and “Ferry sinks in Philippines..” Should I wonder why there is not a headline about an event five years ago that killed over 200,00 people? Or should I be ok that the world has moved on – and focuses on the news today and now?

As I talked today to a few other survivors, many felt the same sentiment. To us – it is an emotional memory. To the rest of the world, it is a moment in time – a regret – a sadness. And yet, another moment in time.”

That is ok. And perhaps, five years later, that is ok. Perhaps that is how it should be. Perhaps on a five year anniversary – it is time to draw the emotions away from the press – and the crowds, and make it a personal reflection – memory – emotion for each of us personally.

None of my family or friends sent me a note on the anniversary today. And for the first time, I didn’t send them a note. Tell anyone in person. Or let is casually slip out. Today – it was my day. And a day of my fellow survivors.

And perhaps that is a good thing on a five year anniversary!

Labels: