A Community in Flux

Yesterday, I visited L with a journalist friend who also knows her. We took a call taxi down to the waterfront and as we neared the neighbourhood made enquiries about where we should go. A photo of L was instantly recognised. Calls were made and the next thing L's tiny figure came into view walking as fast as she was able, leading a small entourage of women.

The taxi, now full to bulging point, made its way through a narrow street, avoiding pedestrians, dogs, carts and displays of goods laid out on the ground.

L led us into her home, past the colourful plastic water containers which were being diligently filled to supply water to each home. The entrance was dark and the stairs were broken. Bright strings of washing hung outside. Inside, we were made very welcome in the tiny dark room and kitchen - home to several people. These houses leak in the monsoon period making it impossible to sleep in either the tiny narrow single bed or the bigger bed off the kitchen.

The tsunami devastated this area, washing away the fishermen's cottages on the beach and wrecking homes in this estate on ground and first floor. Many lives were lost. Repairs have not been made for years and the walls show evidence of damp even here in the heat. Now the government plans to demolish the housing and relocate the community a distance away. Some houses have been razed to the ground already and a number of those residents now camp out on the beach in makeshift tents. The reasoning behind this is that the area is not safe - but that does not seem to apply generally as serious foundations are already in place for what is rumoured to be a hotel.

Led by L and the entourage, we walked through the narrow shopping street being introduced to many friends and neighbours. On sale were chickens strung up by the windpipe. Prawns and small silver fish were feast for a myriad of black flies. To one side a larger fish was being bloodily hacked into steaks. Flowers were being deftly strung into garlands. Fruit and vegetables were carefully laid out on a cloth or straight onto the road and many small shops provided all the wants and needs of the local community. It was a colourful and busy scene.
My hopes are that the move does not take away the warm community spirit that is so obvious here.