Memories of Nargis

When we have attended the Pagoda Festival in Salay and Fish Feeding Ceremony in Pwintphyu, both of which are in Magwe Division on the western side of Myanmar, It would be interesting to revisit Ayeyarwady Division, which is at the extreme south-western side of Myanmar. I went there in 2008 just after Cyclone Nargis struck with consequent loss of life and thousands of people lost everything. At the time I wrote:

Cyclone Nargis struck on 3^rd May 2008. Visiting the village a month after the cyclone had struck, it was not immediately apparent that anything was amiss. I’d not been told that the village had been affected. U Saw, boatman, farmer and handyman, paddled me along. I disentangled water hyacinth and bamboo fronds. Then I saw the banana plantation. This was their cash crop. The palms were beaten to the ground. The bananas were ripening when Nargis struck. Now there was not one to be seen and the village would have no money for a year.

U Saw told me that every house in the village was “broken down to the ground”. But the Kayin, one of Myanmar’s ethnic minorities, are resilient – they have to be. As we paddled up ever diminishing waterways, I saw newly-patched roofs and newly-woven grass wall-panels. Only two houses were impossible to repair: that of U Saw and U Nay.

I sat in U Saw’s sister’s home and learned his family’s horrific story. As the cyclone approached, the noise of the wind grew terrifyingly loud. They felt sick with fear. Then the roof blew off. But they stayed put, thinking that this was all that would happen. Then the veranda and all the cooking pots flew up in the air and away out of sight. Then one wall after another collapsed and blew away. They knew they had to leave.

“We held each other tight, so if we died we’d all die together,” said U Saw.

Then, they left. But where should they go? Knowing the church was of wood not bamboo; they went there and found the rest of the village sheltering.

Most villagers had debris with which to start again. But not U Saw. We walked to his house site and there was nothing there. Absolutely nothing.

“Everything blew so far away, though we searched and searched, we didn’t find anything,” said U Saw. Not a single possession. Now U Saw looked for jobs in town. Any jobs: even cleaning. He had to earn money for food and then to save for re-building.

An ancient mango tree collapsed on the house of U Nay and his wife. Fortunately they’d fled to the church. They found some debris that they cobbled together, but it didn’t keep out the rain and the wet season went on for several months. Really, they need to re-build. But how could they? Nargis had destroyed their share of the banana plantation and they had no money.

We discussed rebuilding and what it would cost - luckily nothing compared to a house in the west. U Saw said he didn’t need to spend K12,000  to pay carpenters, because he would do all the work himself. Bamboo poles and panels of thatched grass sufficient to make a small family dwelling raised off the ground cost about K94,000 (US$100). Knowing my friends in Australia would approve, I gave both families enough to build again after the monsoon.

Just when I thought we’d be doing the canoe trip back in the dark with the monsoon bucketing down, our ‘planning meeting’ came to an end. To my astonishment U Saw stood up, picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and carried me to the canoe. I didn’t know who was the more grateful: him with his new house money or me with my clean, dry feet.