2004 tsunami survivors remain traumatized: NPR

BAN NAM KHEEM, Thailand — The 20-year-old freshman was still asleep that Sunday morning at his family’s home on the Andaman Sea coast in southern Thailand when his mother noticed something was wrong and said, “We have to hurry.” he said, waking her up. Please leave immediately.

This day is forever etched in Nunduanjay Sritrakarn’s memory. December 26, 2004 was the day a deadly Indian Ocean tsunami struck across South and Southeast Asia, following a magnitude 9.1 earthquake off the west coast of Indonesia’s Sumatra island.

It was one of the worst natural disasters in modern history.

Nunduanjayi’s mother noticed strange patterns in the sea, and a relative who had just returned from a fishing trip came to warn her. They grabbed important documents for all the family members and hopped on their bikes.

Within minutes, Nunduanjai, his mother, father, brother and sister were running at high speed, trying to get as far away from Ban Nam Kem village as possible. When Nunduanjayi turned around, he saw a wall of water higher than his house rushing towards shore from a distance.

She had never seen anything like it.

About 3 kilometers away, a wall of water hit the coast of Phang Nga province and caught up with him, knocking him off his bike. The water was dark and swept away all kinds of objects, both man-made and natural.

Nunduanjai stood up, but could barely stand among the moving crowd. The water was up to her knees.

She didn’t know at the time that the tsunami hit more than a dozen countries, killing about 230,000 people, about a third of them in Indonesia. Approximately 1.7 million people were forced to evacuate, mostly in the four worst-hit countries: Indonesia, Sri Lanka, India and Thailand.

At least 5,400 people were killed along Thailand’s Andaman coast, with about 3,000 still missing, according to the Thai government.

The shrimp farm where Nunduanjai’s family worked and lived was wiped out.

Today, the site is the result of Nunduanjayi’s reconstruction efforts and is home to a thriving bar and restaurant with a porch with beautiful sea views. She said the scenery wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the tsunami that destroyed part of the coast.

Life is being rebuilt in Phang Nga, tourists are returning, and on the surface all is well.

Nunduanjai said he was returning from studying abroad in Bangkok for the New Year holidays when the tsunami hit, and although his immediate family survived, he lost five relatives, including his grandparents. One of her uncles was never found.

After staying with relatives in nearby Ranong province for a week, she returned. She remembers the smell of death and thinking that everything had been moved from its original location.

“There were bodies everywhere,” she said. “When I returned to the village, I didn’t recognize anything. … Everything was different.”

Although there is little reason for tourists to notice them, there are many things in Phang Nga today, including signs indicating evacuation routes, a tsunami shelter near the beach area, and several monuments and museums displaying the wreckage and photographs that tell what it was like back then. There are many reminders of the tragedy.

Sanya Komma, assistant village head of Ban Nam Kem village, said development has come a long way and the quality of life in the village is better compared to 20 years ago.

But the haunting memories and trauma they experienced are so strong that the horror is never far away, he said.

“Even now… if the government announced on TV or something that there was an earthquake in Sumatra, everyone would be shocked,” he said.

About once a year, sirens sound during tsunami evacuation drills. But measures meant to reassure residents of their safety may force some survivors to relive their pain.

Somnuk Chuaikerud lost one of her young sons to the tsunami while fishing with her husband.

At 50 years old, she still lives in the same place, right next to the ocean in her backyard. During evacuation drills, she learned to carry an emergency tote bag with all important documents. The bag was in her bedroom, along with a photo of the little boy she lost.

But every time she hears a siren, she freezes and her heart races. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to grab,” she says. “It’s very scary.”

However, she has made peace with this tragedy and has no intention of walking away from it.

“I live by the ocean. This is my purpose in life. I have nowhere else to go,” she said.

For years after the tsunami, Nunduanjayi suffered from panic attacks every time he saw the ocean. The sound of roaring waves haunted her in her sleep.

She chose to return to her hometown after graduating from university and make a living right next to the sea. She is proud of her bar and restaurant.

“I’m still scared, but I have to endure because this is my home,” she said. “Some people moved away, but I didn’t. I’m still here.”