2004 Tsunami

In 2004, I was in Amma’s Amritapuri ashram when the tsunami hit. That morning, I was practicing bhajans (devotional songs) with a group of people on the temple roof. At one point, we heard screaming below and looked down to see the ashram grounds flooding.

The tsunami nearly demolished the village between the Arabian Sea and the ashram. Children were pulled out of their parents arms and disappeared into the sea. Many villagers died. It was a heart-breaking situation.

I have already written a bit about the tsunami and I will undoubtedly write more in the future. In this post, I will focus on the part of my experience that concerned my daughter.

The ashram is located on a peninsula. There was no nearby bridge to the mainland in those days; people generally traveled there by canoe.  In the hours after the tsunami, Amma led the evacuation efforts. She saw that the villagers were taken to the mainland first; then the ashram visitors and last the ashram residents. Everyone was housed in Amma’s nearby colleges and schools.

Those of us who were already in the temple were asked to stay put, and many of the visitors joined us there. My daughter Chaitanya, who was 27 at the time, had lived in Amritapuri since 1998. I knew she had been up all night recording music for the play she was organizing for a program in January. She can sleep through anything so I had some concern that she would wake up to find the ashram flooded and empty.

There was considerable damage to the ashram, but the concrete walls had provided a lot of protection.  The water receded fairly quickly, so I did not worry about her survival, but I still wanted to know she was safe. Once we were evacuated to the Engineering College, I started wandering around to see if I could find Chaitanya, or at least someone who had seen her.

Hours later, someone told me my daughter had been caught by the wave and up to her neck in water. They said when they had seen her, she had been shaking from cold and fear. (While this was all I knew at the moment, I later found out that story was not at all accurate!) After talking to the person who had seen her I knew she was safe, and was helping move the kitchen equipment and supplies to areas of the ashram that were dry. I still wanted to see her with my own eyes. Going back across the water was not an option though; all I could do was wait.

Around 5:00 p.m., Indian and Western visitors who had been staying at the ashram began gathering in a college hallway. An Indian woman started singing a  bhajan and we all responded. She led one song after another. Then one of the San Ramon ashram residents and I led several songs. We were singing the easiest of the Sanskrit bhajans, ones we had all known for years─ probably generations in many cases─ so everyone joined in.

In the middle of that experience, while my eyes were closed, Chaitanya walked up to me. Finally a reunion with my daughter! She was covered with dirt from the top of her head to her toes, but was obviously perfectly fine. It turned out she had been taking a shower when the tsunami hit.  She knew something was wrong when she heard the screaming. By the time she had dressed and made it down the stairs everyone in her building was gone. She climbed over a gate and swam to a place on higher ground. When I asked if she had been afraid, she responded no.  She said she had felt like Indiana Jones!

When I went to sleep that night I felt so grateful. Even though, in that moment, I was shoeless and only had the clothes on my back, I knew I had everything I needed and more. In the midst of so much grief and devastation, my daughter was nearby and I had a straw mat and a dry floor to sleep on. I felt very blessed.

Written for Writing 101 Assignment #16: Lost and Found