PHI PHI ISLANDS, Thailand “”mdash; The pristine island of Koh Phi
Phi had been the jewel of Thailand’s Andaman Coast.
The movie “The Beach” revealed the island’s
natural splendor to the world: crystal blue water, white sand
beaches and striking limestone cliffs.
But the Asian tsunami on December 26, 2004, which claimed over
250,000 lives across South Asia, nearly wiped this tiny backpacker
haven off the map.
More than 1,800 perished on Phi Phi alone, many of whom were
young Western backpackers and tourists and nearly five months
later, many are still considered missing.
Now the student presence is alive on Phi Phi, with no more than
100 people on the once prosperous island, the majority of whom,
once again, are young Westerners.
Approaching Koh Phi Phi on a warm spring day several months
after the disaster, none of the travelers on the ferry, myself
included, seemed to know what to expect.
The path off the pier greets visitors by making its way past the
old “Tourist Information” sign, now tipped over,
hanging from a rubble heap that was once the tourist office.
The main town had the unfortunate position on a low-lying strip
of sand, straddling two bays. On the morning of the tsunami, the
massive wave wrapped around the entire island, hitting it from both
sides.
With few buildings over two-stories and no reachable higher
ground, thousands of fleeing tourists and islanders were trapped
between two walls of water.
I made my way past the old main street along the beach, which,
while still somewhat intact, looked like the aftermath of a
tornado.
ATMs and telephone booths lay on their sides, gutted and
useless, symbols of the once prosperous island and its fate.
Getting my first glimpse of the rest of the island past the main
street, I quickly realized that this was the side hit by the
smaller wave; this was the lucky side.
Beyond this lay a wasteland of destruction, looking less like
the effect of a tornado and more like that of an atomic bomb.
Piles of twisted metal and debris stretched on for blocks to the
beach on the other side. Before the tsunami, they told me, you
couldn’t see the other side.
Everywhere around the island there were young Westerners
sporting bright yellow T-shirts with the name
“HiPhiPhi” written across the front.
The group is a non-profit organization, there to help clean up
Phi Phi to allow islanders and tourists to return.
Karuna Schweig and Evan Holm, recent UC Santa Cruz graduates,
had been backpacking around Southeast Asia when the tsunami
hit.
After waiting until the health warnings dissipated, they made
their way down to the affected region.
“We were joking, “˜let’s get a bus to
Phuket.’ Then we started hearing that we could, that there
were volunteer opportunities, so we came down,” said Schweig,
23, while preparing for her first day of work.
“We felt like we didn’t have an excuse not to
volunteer. I can’t sit on a beach for 12 hours a day,”
Holm added.
While HiPhiPhi had been originally set up to help surviving
islanders who had been relocated to the mainland, the program
quickly grew to include further work on Phi Phi itself, drawing on
the supply of young backpackers and tourists looking to help with
the relief effort.
Schweig and Holm came not knowing what to expect and were
surprised at how little relief work had been done in the months
since the tsunami.
“From a couple hundred yards away (Phi Phi) looked
beautiful. Once we got up close, it was a disaster,” said
Holm of his first impression.
Schweig was taken aback at the drastic differences between
harder hit areas and the ones that fared better.
“It was a shock just how much, just trying to fathom how
some places seemed untouched and others were complete
rubble,” she said.
The presence of young Westerners is unavoidable on Phi Phi. Many
university students studying abroad in Bangkok have also made trips
to Phi Phi during the months following the destruction.
“All the people I met were all taking a semester off or
just finishing college and were just backpacking around Southeast
Asia,” said Ruth Napier, an exchange student at Thammasat
University in Bangkok.
Napier, a third-year student at the University of Tennessee, had
visited Phi Phi one weekend to escape the heat of Bangkok and see
what she could do to help on the island.
After befriending a family that ran a small bungalow on the
island, she said she became most impressed not by the Western
volunteers but by the people of Phi Phi.
“It was definitely the most meaningful experience
I’ve had this semester in Thailand. I was really inspired by
everyone I met, especially the local people,” she said.
“With smiles on their faces, working side by side with us,
they were still in very good spirits. They were full of hope.
It’s just amazing what people can go through and
persevere.”
Originally planning just one visit, she returned to Bangkok and
booked another ticket back to Phi Phi the following weekend after
midterms.
She said her reason for returning was simply that Phi Phi needed
volunteers and, unlike in more developed places like Phuket, Phi
Phi does not have much government support.
Working with HiPhiPhi, she quickly met dozens of young
volunteers who had come to the island for the same reason she
had.
“It’s really inspiring, there are people my age who
are helping (on Phi Phi) with just a bucket and shovel, literally
just a bucket and a shovel,” she said.
She said that the lack of supplies can make the effort
difficult, “but the tragedy and the destruction don’t
keep you there for three weeks.”
“The people there, their optimism and spirit of
perseverance, that’s what keeps you there.”
The primary task on the island is still to clear rubble from the
streets to allow businesses to re-open and keep the local economy
afloat.
My first job was with two British tourists, re-building a
portion of brick road next to the beach on Ton Sai Bay that had
been washed away by the receding waters.
We didn’t have all the bricks and it quickly became clear
that some had come from a different road and didn’t match the
one we were working on, but none of that seemed to matter. Our only
goal was to make the road safer and more passable.
Other volunteers went deeper into the carnage of the town to
clear out several hotels that were to open soon.
“We want to help those who are willing to help themselves.
That’s why we’re cleaning the streets,” said Neil
Dodson, the unofficial leader of HiPhiPhi’s cleanup efforts
on the island, while he was on break at a beachside restaurant.
Dodson, originally from the United Kingdom, has lived on Phi Phi
for the last eight years, operating a dive shop.
He had been drinking his morning tea when the wave struck the
island on December 26th.
“I came out and saw a really low tide. The water was
coming back in very quickly,” he said.
He survived the tsunami by running up to the second floor of his
shop, which was on the side of the island hit by the smaller
wrap-around wave.
“I went to get my girlfriend and our home was gone,
absolutely wiped out. She was okay, but I didn’t see her for
26 hours,” he said, explaining that it took so long because
everywhere he went he had to help trapped and injured people.
“There were bodies everywhere. After the first six or
seven bodies you block it off. The smell started the day after the
wave,” he added.
Dodson is interrupted by a fellow relief worker who informs him
of the total amount of money collected that day. Several girls had
begun selling items found in the rubble, like postcards and
sandals, to help HiPhiPhi.
“45,000? No way, wicked,” he said with a grin.
The 45,000 baht will help pay rent for eight businesses for a
month, he said.
He said that the biggest obstacle to bringing businesses and
jobs back to Phi Phi is overcoming the initial fear of starting all
over again.
“If they come back, if they reopen a shop, they’re
afraid they can’t pay rent,” Dodson said.
Most business owners haven’t paid rent since the tsunami,
money they will owe when they return.
More than 700 formerly employed islanders, the vast majority of
the survivors, are now living in Krabi, on the mainland, struggling
to find the right way to move on from the disaster in which some
lost everything and everyone they had.
Slowly, a handful of former residents have begun returning to
Phi Phi to run businesses in the few surviving buildings, with
hopes of starting again.
Wan Allee’s cafe was one of the very few operations on Phi
Phi to survive the wave unharmed, due to its location on the hills
above the main town.
But surviving the wave was not enough for Allee, who has faced
greater hardship since, due to the severe lack of tourists and
residents on the island.
“My owner go too. Everybody go and lived in Krabi. When
good time they will come back again,” he said.
Allee is more optimistic than most for the recovery of the
island.
“One year I think,” he said, projecting when his
cafe will see regular customers like before the tsunami.
Almost five months later, the people of Thailand and Koh Phi Phi
are trying to move forward and take from the tsunami what lessons
they can.
Napier believes the tsunami has taught her about the strength of
human endurance.
“People who’ve lost friends, their homes, their
livelihood, their families, have had to go through all that
horror,” he said. “Just to even have that will to get
up each day and move on, it’s amazing.”