{"id":5007,"date":"2009-12-17T16:54:23","date_gmt":"2009-12-18T00:54:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/travelthruhistory.com\/?p=5007"},"modified":"2020-08-13T17:20:53","modified_gmt":"2020-08-14T00:20:53","slug":"tsunami-a-story-of-survival","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/travelthruhistory.com\/tsunami-a-story-of-survival\/","title":{"rendered":"Tsunami: A Story of Survival"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"tsunami<\/p>\n

Phi Phi Island, Thailand<\/h2>\n

by Christine Lang<\/em><\/p>\n

Our stroll down Main Street draws my friend Rubina and I to a souvenir shop cluttered with flip flops, fisherman pants, and incense sticks. I am about to laugh out loud at a kitschy key chain with a portrait of the King of Thailand framed in gold plastic, when I remember\u00a0Lonely Planet\u2019s advice to never insult the Thai royal family. I imagine the headlines:\u00a0Kindergarten Teacher Imprisoned for Mocking Beloved Thai King<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\"the<\/a>I turn away and hunt for a small wooden Buddha statue, similar to one I had admired in Phuket. But to no avail. Phi Phi Island is predominantly Muslim, consequently my little Buddha is nowhere to be found.<\/p>\n

My friend Rubina and I flip through postcards on a spinning rack. I finally settle on some stamps and she buys bottled water. We exit the shop and set out in the direction of the pier when we notice something bizarre.<\/p>\n

An older Thai woman wearing a sun dress, her hair pulled back in a bun, races from the jewellery store into the street. She\u2019s screaming hysterically in Thai, and carries a plastic bucket, filled with water, which splashes over the sides onto the dusty brick walkway.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s odd,\u201d I say staring at Rubina.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, wonder what\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman drops her bucket and flees across the road, running inland, away from the beach. We continue to stroll along past the pier where we stepped off the ferry four days ago. Some frightened cats leap squawling across the street in front of us and we see frazzled clerks sprinting from the currency exchange service. Rubina and I stop in our tracks and look around, puzzled at the growing chaos. What\u2019s going on?<\/p>\n

Other shop keepers abandon their businesses. As they dart past us, I realize they\u2019re not only running from their shops, but they\u2019re running from the shore too. I glance to the beach. A row of buildings block my view.<\/p>\n

What\u2019s happening? Is there a fire? Has a boat crashed into the pier? What are these people running from? I search for information, but there are no clear signs, only mad confusion.<\/p>\n

Heart wrenching screams filter the air. I shudder at the terror on the faces of people speeding past, their mouths contorted around panicked cries in a language I do not comprehend. More and more people join the growing hoard. Thunderous footsteps career down the road. The air billows with dust clouds. My mouth is dry. My hands are clammy. Everything has sped up and slowed down all at once.<\/p>\n

Survival instinct kicks in; adrenaline pounds through my veins. We\u2019re going to be trampled to death if we don\u2019t depart immediately. A burly Thai fisherman, his eyes wide with terror, shoulder checks me, spinning my body around. I steady myself and look for Rubina. She\u2019s no longer beside me. Disoriented, I search for her but I don\u2019t see her. Was she bowled away by the crowd?<\/p>\n

A German man wrenches my arm, screams, \u201cRun!\u201d But I can\u2019t leave without Rubina. I wait for a break in the crowd. It\u2019s clear. I bolt toward the 7-Eleven narrowly dodging a bikini clad tourist. A man in scuba gear sprints toward me and whips past me trampling over my toes. I charge toward the 7-Eleven and arrive underneath the store sign breathless, heart thumping, scanning desperately, but I don\u2019t see Rubina anywhere!<\/p>\n

A screaming crowd runs inland and another runs in the direction of the mountains. I focus on my search for Rubina. I see a small shack at the foot of the dock and spot her as she hides behind it. I dart toward her. She doesn\u2019t notice me. She\u2019s gone deathly pale and her wide eyes state toward the beach. I grasp her trembling arm.<\/p>\n

\u201cRubina, come on!\u201d I yell. \u201cWe need to run! Now!\u201d<\/p>\n

She snaps out of her trance and we run side by side following the stampeding crowd heading inland. I see Thais racing, mostly men, but there\u2019s no instruction, no direction, no one telling us what to do or where to go. What we are running away from? I hear a child shriek. A man yells in Thai. \u201cWhere are we going? All I know is that we must flee. The crowd scatters as we race down a road that connects the two beaches. We make a sharp right heading in the direction of the dive shop where we had left my brother, Michael. We pass the Phi Phi Hotel, the only high rise on the island, and arrive at an abandoned intersection.<\/p>\n

\"tsunami<\/a>A massive rumble freezes us to the spot. It swarms the air, engulfs the island and invades my ears like a fleet of jet engines. Is a plane about to crash? I look up. Nothing but the sun in a crystal clear blue sky. The ground suddenly shakes. A bolt shivers up my spine. I tremble. It\u2019s like we\u2019re trapped in a Hollywood blockbuster movie. There\u2019s no escape.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Mike?\u201d Rubina screams, as she stumbles backward across the street. I see a group of tourists rushing into the Phi Phi Hotel.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about Mike? What about Mike?\u201d Rubina cries as she steps farther and farther away from me. I stare down the road in the direction of our hotel, at Lo Dolum Bay.\u00a0Oh my God!\u00a0A dark monstrous wall of water, two-storey high, is barrelling right for us. I gasp for air and somehow manage to scream for one last time.<\/p>\n

\u201cRun, Rubina! Run!\u201d I scream. But Rubina disappears. I charge in the direction of the Ph Phi Hotel as shallow water streams in from the pier side swarming the hotel entrance. It swirls around me, seizing my ankles. I fight to lift my legs in the now knee high water but it\u2019s strong as cement. I\u2019m bolted down. Trapped. Everything around me is flooding in the rising water and the massive wave appears closer and closer. The sound of it is deafening as it looms down the road toward me.<\/p>\n

\u201cMary Mother of God help me!\u201d My final call for help surfaces from the depth of my soul, saved for this final moment. As the water envelopes me, my past flashes before me.<\/p>\n

I remember a classroom, lined with rows of little girls sitting at petite desks wearing white starchy blouses and navy blue pleated tunics. My penny loafers side by side with my hands folded \u2018to minimize fidgeting.\u2019 I look up at an old but kind face, framed by a habit. Sister Leonita is one of the few nuns left at the school who continues to wear one.<\/p>\n

\u201cGirls, listen up. If you are ever caught in a moment of desperation say, \u2018Mary Mother of God help me,\u2019 and your prayers will be answered. Over in the convent, this morning, I came across a remarkable story in the newspaper. Not far from here, there was a devastating fire. A young woman was trapped in a burning building, surrounded by mad hot flames. Do you know what she did?\u201d<\/p>\n

I put up my hand. \u201cShe prayed Sister.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes dear, she prayed.\u201d She rewards me with a coconut candy wrapped in cellophane. \u201cAnd girls, what did she say?\u201d<\/p>\n

The entire class chants in, \u201cMary Mother of God help me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right. Now, girls, remember to ask for God\u2019s help when you need it. Pray for me, pray for your parents, and pray for strength.\u201d<\/p>\n

Now, trapped in the path of the giant wave, I brace myself for the inevitable and pray! Water blasts into me, swallows me whole, drags me away. I\u2019m completely submerged. I don\u2019t know which direction is up or down. The wave pummels me into the unknown, pulling my limbs in every direction. I\u2019m struck from behind and above. My arms and legs flail helplessly. I\u2019m a rag doll in a washing machine being tossed with the contents of an entire island.<\/p>\n

Suddenly the water pressure lessens, but I\u2019m slammed onto the side of a building. Oxygen bubbles rush past me underwater as I hear the screech of metal twisting, the crack of wood breaking, and the crash of buildings collapsing into the water. I open my burning eyes. My face is near the surface. I struggle to push my mouth to the air above, but I can\u2019t move my arms or my legs. I\u2019m pinned between crushing debris. I feel it tearing at my skin. My body caves in, as if I\u2019m wedged between elevator doors. Aching for air, I wiggle my arms, my shoulders, my legs. The debris compresses further, trapping me. The water is now still. I squirm one last time, make one last effort.<\/p>\n

Air! I need air.\u00a0I don\u2019t want to die. My body goes limp. A burn of salty water ricochets through my nose, prickles through me like needles. Death hovers as my mind races, refusing to accept my fate.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t want to die here. There\u2019s so much more I want to do. There\u2019s so much more I want to experience. Am I really drowning? How can this be? God help me, I need air. I need air…<\/p>\n

I close my eyes, and see my mother\u2019s face, my mom who\u2019s always been there for me. It brings me comfort. I see my friend Kris as the first time I saw him: smiling brown eyes, toothy grin, dimpled cheeks. I remember our hike up Grouse Mountain, him giving me his hand, pulling me along. I embrace his image with a full heart. I feel at peace\u2026letting go\u2026<\/p>\n

Without warning, a second rush of water, more explosive than the first, blasts into my death trap. My arms, my legs are suddenly free! Relief is flushed out by the relentless rush of water gushing over me. The surge storms my body. I\u2019m being tossed again, in some never ending playground ride.<\/p>\n

Random objects shoot through the water like arrows. Something hits me on my cheek, my forehead, my chest, but I feel no pain. The sensation of the of the wave overrides all. I try to draw my flailing hands to my face but my arms are yanked from my control, seized by the water.<\/p>\n

The current torpedoes me along. I keep my legs streamlined, my arms tight across my chest forcing my face to light. Above, water mixes with air creating spray. I strain upward and gulp it. Something whacks my nose. I manage to cover my face with my hands squeezing my eyes shut. The water is warm. I\u2019m buoyant and pretend to be somewhere else\u2026it\u2019s like I\u2019m on a water slide. I pray the ride is over soon, and surrender as the force of it pushes me along. I slip into unconsciousness. Darkness. Silence.<\/p>\n

\"the<\/a>I wake, underwater, drowning again. My limbs are free. I look above into darkness. I\u2019m down deep. The weight of the water crushes me. Debris boxes me in. I turn left\u2026everything is black. I turn right\u2026there\u2019s a faint circle of light. Instinct guides me to swim!\u00a0Swim! Swim for your life!\u00a0Adrenaline fuels me and I sever a path through the filthy, now motionless, water. Swim! Swim! Swim! I kick furiously and charge through the wet darkness. My only focus is the brilliant halo in the distance.\u00a0Life!<\/p>\n

The circle of light nears. My head throbs, my heart thumps. I fight for breath. My muscles blaze in pain. I need to breathe now.\u00a0Keep kicking, Christine, I tell myself.\u00a0Focus on the light. Get to it.\u00a0The halo shines brighter. The circle grows larger. It\u2019s my last chance. I fight. Arms reach. Hands reach. Fingers reach. Legs thrash. I need to breathe.\u00a0The light. The light. The light\u2026<\/p>\n

I hear a swoosh! as my head breaks the surface. I suck in the air like a vacuum. Oxygen fills my lungs. Finally, I can breathe. I tread water and scream. I\u2019m not going to die here!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Editor\u2019s note: This is a chapter from a memoir by tsunami survivor Christine Lang. W. Ruth Kozak met Christine in a writing class she was instructing when she was first writing down her recollections of that horrifying, near-death experience when the tragic tsunami happened, December 26, 2004 killing more than 225,000 people in 11 countries. It was a miracle that Christine survived. Her friend, Rubina Wong, did not.<\/em><\/p>\n

Tsunami Information: www.globalchange.com<\/a><\/p>\n

About the author:<\/em>
\nFive years ago Christine, a grade two teacher and accomplished swimmer, left rainy Vancouver for a Christmas vacation in sunny Thailand where she met her brother Michael and his girlfriend Rubina Wong. What was supposed to be a trip of a lifetime, turned out to be an experience of disaster, death and a swimming miracle. Christine lives and teaches in Vancouver, Canada. She recently competed in the Half Marathon in San Francisco.<\/p>\n

Photo credits:<\/em>
\nTsunami aftermath by Michael L. Bak<\/a> \/ Public domain
\nTsunami water approaching by David Rydevik (email: david.rydevikgmail.com), Stockholm, Sweden.<\/a> \/ Public domain
\nAll other photos by Nicole Peterson and Sandy Clemens.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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