Spent the day at the office, something I have not done in quite some time. It has been difficult seeing friends that I have made over the past month, suddenly pulling out and heading back to Okinawa, Japan. I was supposed to meet up with Lt. Col Daren Margolin tonight for a farewell dinner, but he called me late this morning from the airport; his orders had been changed and he was leaving immediately. He will be missed, and the country of Sri Lanka owes a great debt to this man's leadership facilitating so much of the relief effort; AED owes him and Col Vincent a huge debt for placing us as their primary NGO in the relief effort. Daren, safe journeys, and God's Speed my friend...

Today we sent four teachers to Valachinei, where they will live while working at the new AED School in the Kirimichchi refugee camp. Considering the difficult conditions they will face at the camp, I am proud of each of them for taking up the challenge; each one is eager to make a difference. We will start classes in the tent by tomorrow.

I picked up Col Vincent and his immediate team and we left for our Samudra Sri Children's Home, along with three buses of US service personnel; far more than we had anticipated. About 70 from the Marines and Air Force came out for the cricket tournament and barbeque.

I'm not sure how to express the pride that I felt when I saw the Marines and Air Force playing with our now 200 children at the home. They were tireless, and despite the intense heat and humidity, spent hours carrying our children around on their backs, or playing cricket, or just providing warmth and attention for hours on end. General Frank Panter was called away to a meeting at the last minute and could not be with us, but Col Vincent more than made up for his absence; I never saw him leave the children the entire day, and when dinner was ready, we had to coax him away from the kids.

When the buses began loading up for the Marines for their return to Colombo, I saw many, many of our young men and woman shedding tears while saying goodbye to our children. This was certainly a proud moment to be counted as American. I wish those in the States that see our military from a narrow perspective, could have seen what a difference these young people made in the lives of our orphans today; our children at Samudra Sri will never forget this event, and the special attention they received from American soldiers will be with them for a long, long time.

Today we flew to the Kirimichchi Camp near Batticaloa. The young French doctor (he actually hasn't taken his final exam, but he is a tremendous help to us) we are helping in the camp is still there. He treated two snakebites the day before we arrived; unfortunately one was fatal. We brought chlorine powder to sprinkle around the tents to keep the cobras away; I hope this will work.

Today we went to Samudra Sri, our children's home. We have managed to take in 30 orphans from the tsunami, adding to the already 170. We played with the kids, and did art therapy. You will see artwork from some of the survivor children we were able to bring to Samudra Sri. These pictures were drawn by kids from 5 years of age up to 11, and represent their feelings and experience of losing everything in the tsunami.

Later, I went into Colombo and met with a Blackhawk crew that had helped transport us on several of our missions. Under the leadership of Capt. Jenn Reed, and assisted by Copilot Capt. Warren, Sgt. Jerred Morse and Sgt. Brian Staney, they flew us on several of our missions, and they were very helpful. This crew took up a collection and gave it for the work of AED; along with their friend, Mr. Nelson, they gave over $4,000 toward our relief effort.

Left early this morning for Hambantota in southern Sri Lanka, once again, loading the Blackhawks with as much relief supplies as we could carry; this time we only had two helicopters, since the US military is winding down operations.

Once we arrived in Hambantota, we went to the sight of our AED school; we lost the building entirely, and there is nothing left. We took the relief supplies to the survivor camp, and then brought new books and educational material to the kids at our school (we are now holding classes in a temporary location until we are able to rebuild).

Busy day! Met with the Sri Lankan Ministry of Social Services and they have agreed to remove the 100% tax for us that has been imposed on relief containers entering Sri Lanka. It is my understanding that this was imposed to discourage numerous instant NGO's that have appeared recently, from taking advantage of the tsunami disaster. Once they saw the date of our registration

(1998), and how much money we have spent on relief, our duty-free status was instantly reinstated. It is hard to believe there are people who would take advantage of such a disaster. Further, a fishing trawler was caught off the coast of Sri Lanka with children that had been taken by child traffickers from the survivor camps, apparently heading for Europe. Again, unimaginable.

Col Brian Vincent called and said he and Lt. Col Daren Marigold would be flying with me and the relief supplies in the morning to see the work we are doing with the children in the survivor camps near Batticaloa. I'm excited to have them along after all the work they have done facilitating these missions.

Today really sick; spent the day trying to kick this bug. Tomorrow will be trying to clear more relief goods from the port of Colombo. We have learned that the Sri Lankan government imposed a duty tax on all shipping containers bringing relief supplies. I will have to make contact with the Ministry of Social Service to see what is up with this. That is it for today.

Today I met with Col Brian Vance at the command center; they have taken over a sports stadium in the center of Colombo. He explained that the missions are winding down, and that they expect to be out of Sri Lanka by the 26th of this month. He promised to give us at least two more missions before they depart back to Okinawa.

I also need to take a moment and make it clear that the US Marines under Col Vance are indeed running the airlift missions from the command center, but it is the US Air Force pilots that are flying the Blackhawks. I have been working closely with Col Vance and the marines at the command center, but have not given proper recognition to the women and men of the US Air Force that have actually been piloting the Blackhawks and carrying the supplies and myself to the refugee camps.

Yesterday I woke up at 4:00 am pretty sick; the events of the past few weeks are wearing me down a bit and I have picked up some kind of bug. I managed however to fly with the Blackhawks to China Bay and delivered the medicine and relief supplies to the refugees in Kenniya, near Trincomolee. The children look a little better than the last visit, but the camp is still not a healthy environment. I cannot understand why it is taking so long to get the people out of these conditions.

Today we flew two Blackhawk Helicopters to Jaffna, a city on the northern end of Sri Lanka. We have a school south of Jaffna, but our ground time was only 2 hours before the helicopters had to get back, so we were only able to get the relief supplies as far as the lagoon, just across from our school. We also gave some of the medicine to an NGO working in Jaffna called Humanicare. They had a team of six German physicians; we spent only 30 minutes with the doctors and had to return to the Blackhawks for our return flight to Colombo. Not many pictures, the digital camera went dead before we took off from the ground in Colombo.

Also, a sad day for me, since the Doctors of the World team had to return to New York tonight. Dr. Victoria Sharp proved to be an incredible asset; her and her colleague, Ms. Christine Nolland demonstrated deep compassion for those whose lives were destroyed by the tsunami. AED and Doctors of the World are planning to collaborate on a community health clinic near our Children’s Home. I look forward to working long term with this organization.

Yesterday I met with US AID emergency management specialist, Mr. Ronald Libby, and submitted a grant proposal outlining AED’s plan for trauma counseling for the child survivors of the tsunami; we had been given information that US AID was looking for NGO’s on the ground and immediately ready to implement proposals, with a 90 day cycle. Further, after speaking with the director of US AID, Ms. Carol Becker, I was encouraged to submit the grant. Unfortunately, Ron Libby indicated that all of the US AID monies for the disaster had already been spent, and that I was a week too late in my proposal. This was a disappointing setback; we had anticipated the grant so that we could begin implementing our program immediately.

We are working closely with Colonial Vincent, the man in charge for providing air support and coordination for the US military in the relief efforts. He and I have become good friends; he has prioritized AED for the remaining flying missions, and we are scheduled to have our material flown every day for the next five days. The US military is planning to pull out of the relief work and leave Sri Lanka by the end of this month. They will be greatly missed.

We left this morning on the Blackhawks for the east of Sri Lanka. It was way exciting, and we managed to get 4,000 kilos of medicine and tents delivered in three Blackhawk Helicopter, courtesy of the US Marines, making two trips. I went out on the first Blackhawk with my team, which included Dr. Victoria Sharp from the Doctors of the World organization (she agreed to join up with us to help with our schools in the east). We nearly did not make it back in time; the Blackhawks agreed to wait until 5:00 pm, but after that, they would be taking off. Our work in the camps took longer than expected, and we nearly did not make it back before they took off.

I will let the pictures speak for themselves. We spent two days bringing relief to our schools and to the survivor camps in both the east and the uncleared zones. I think I will let the pictures speak for themselves. Tomorrow, we are continuing the Blackhawk missions, this time to Jaffna. I will write more tomorrow night.

Today we took in some of our children from our schools from the south of Sri Lanka into Samudra Sri Children’s Home. Later in the day, the Doctors of the World team came out to see our Samudra Sri Children’s Home. Later, I met Colonel Vance, and we finalized our trip to bring medicine and tents (some have finally arrived, but nothing near the numbers we need).

Today, our convoy left for the east. I was to go with the trucks, but Colonel Vance has agreed to take me with the relief supplies, and a Doctor of the World team member on one of the Blackhawks. This will give me time to do more logistical work here in Colombo until we fly out on Saturday. I must admit, I’m a little excited to be able to fly with our relief supplies in on a Blackhawk.

Today I met with Colonel Brian J. Vincent III of the United States Marine Corps. The Marines have finally arrived in Sri Lanka, and I was introduced to Colonel Vincent by one of the members of the US AID team here in Colombo. After lengthy discussions, Colonel Vincent has agreed to use the Marine Corp Blackhawk helicopters to facilitate getting our supplies over to the east. After more containers arrive from the States, he will use the C-130’s to load the contents of relief supplies, and deliver those to the east as well.

Not more than two hours after my meeting with Colonel Vincent, I met Ms. Vickie Sharpp, the regional president of Doctors of the World (this is a fraternal organization to Doctors without Borders) and is headquartered in New York City. They have agreed to partner with us, and will provide doctors to our schools in the east and south that are still in desperate need of medical care. Tomorrow I must return to the US AID office in Colombo, and later meet with Colonel Vincent to see if Ms. Vickie Sharpp of Doctors of the World can join us on the flight to eastern Sri Lanka on Saturday.

Arrived in Colombo and cleared our two 40’ containers of more relief supplies from the port of Colombo. We will be loading the lorry trucks, and preparing for our second relief effort to the eastern side of Sri Lanka, focusing on survivors in the uncleared zones. The only things missing from the shipment are tents. We still desperately need tents, and I hope they arrive before we leave on the 11th.

I Drove back down to Galle, and visited the medical college/hospital in Karapitiya, the largest hospital in southern Sri Lanka. I met with the medical director of the hospital, Mr.Wickramasinghe, to check with records and see if any of our AED students have been listed as patients, or perhaps on the confirmed dead list. It was very sad; pictures of children that could not be identified before being cremated or buried were plastered all over the walls. The hospital was so full; the hallways were being used as makeshift maternity wards. I left Karapitiya Hospital and headed back to Colombo with a heavy heart. More later

Our team is exhausted and has not seen their families since we left on the 29th December. We arrived in Colombo tonight, and tomorrow we will pick up three 40' containers of relief supplies that have arrived from India and finally cleared by our office in Colombo. One of the containers should have tents, which are so badly needed. On Sunday I will visit Samudra Sri, our orphanage 30 kilometers north of Colombo. By Monday we plan to head back to the east and resume the work of helping children and prepare for the next phase which includes rebuilding our lost schools, and a strategic plan for the creation of at least one new Children's Home in the eastern region of Sri Lanka.

On a personal note, I want to say how overwhelmed I am from the response coming from around the world. I have not been able to connect on email much, but when I do the outpouring of compassion humbles me: friends as far away as Nottingham England, Sydney Australia, have responded with relief donations and encouragements. But most humbling is the outpouring from my home city, Seattle.

I also express deep and heartfelt appreciation to the many organizations and NGOs that have helped and are partnering with us in our relief efforts.

I also want to thank my cohorts and faculty of the doctoral program at Seattle University for their support and encouragement; take good notes, I'm going to be here awhile. The long road to recovery for the children survivors still lies ahead. As I mentioned earlier, we are assembling a team of psychologists who will come and train teachers and childcare workers to deal with the subsequent trauma. At present, I have no idea what the cost will be to rebuild our nine schools, and to construct two new orphanages; anyone interested in sponsoring the rebuilding of a school or a new orphanage, please contact me. I will try and write more this weekend as we prepare to head back to eastern Sri Lanka.

We rose early and left for the ancient port city of Galle, one of the hardest hit places in all of Sri Lanka, which only recently opened for rescue work due to the roads being completely destroyed. We have a school in Galle with 85 children, and again, have still not heard from about 50 of them, but I am feeling more confident that relations from surrounding areas have picked many of our students up.

I never imagined anything could be worse than the destruction we viewed in Hambantota. But Galle was even worse huge buildings that lined the streets were completely destroyed. Large fishing boats from the harbor were laying in pieces several blocks inland from the sea. Hundreds and hundreds of buildings are crumbling onto each other. International relief presence is everywhere here. In fact, we have not seen this level of relief in any place previous; perhaps the proximity of being two hours from Colombo makes this an attractive rescue site. I just wish half of this effort were going to the people in the east of Sri Lanka.

We then went to the Buddhist temple resting on a large hill on the edge of Galle, where many of the survivors fled when the tsunami hit. We were told there were many children at the temple that had not been identified, but by the time we arrived the children had been taken to another camp set up by the government due to the report that children were being taken by slave traders. AED board member and friend, Jeff Prickett, is returning to Bozeman, Montana tomorrow. He will be greatly missed. His efforts were always tireless, never complaining about the harsh conditions, humidity, lack of food, lack of sleep, mosquitoes, rough roads, my driving, or other dangers. He has chronicled our efforts by taking photos that are apparently being sent to our website. Jeff jumped in whenever the convoy became stuck in mud, or children in the survivor camps just needed someone to show that they have immeasurable worth. Jeff, you will be deeply missed; your fellow Montanans should be proud of your heroic efforts over the past nine days.

We left this morning to visit the remains of our school to the south of Tissaharama. Not much to see, since there is really nothing standing. Several of our children are believed to be lost from this project, but we still have no definite confirmation, since so many children are displaced and scattered in the regional Hambantota survivor camps, and others have been picked up by relatives from other villages; we just have no way of knowing yet how many are actually lost to the tsunami or just missing. Our school director in Hambantota is working closely with the local authorities to find all of our missing children.

We came back to Hambantota to visit a large piece of land that is to be donated to AED by a member of the Hambantota District Chamber of Commerce for the creation of a new Children’s Home. We spent more time at the mosque, and then returned to what is left of the social service office in Hambantota. We sent the remaining lorry trucks back to Colombo; we are out of relief material, and need to re-supply with several containers that should have arrived by now at the port of Colombo. Everyone is exhausted; we went to sleep early for the first time since the relief effort began.

By morning, we were covered in mosquito bites and anxious to start toward our schools in Tissamaharama and Hambantota. When we arrived to the town of Hambantota, we were not prepared for the devastation. The shelters on the east coast were small, and many are made of wood and cadgans. In Hambantota, the buildings are primarily concrete and brick. It looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off. Buildings three and four blocks inland from the main street had been completely destroyed. We knew our school in Hambantota had been destroyed, but we had little information on the whereabouts of our kids. We had ordered three buses to come down from Colombo to meet us, in order to take back any of our AED students to the orphanage.

Hambantota has a significant Muslim population, people with ancestry connected to the 14th century when the Moors came to the southern coast of Sri Lanka. We made our way to the first survivor camp, which was held in the Dhamma Kabir Jumma Mosque in the center of where the town used to be. We met with Mr. Mohamed Zahir, the Development Secretary of Hambantota. The scene reminded me of something out of a made for television disaster movie; people were huddled in all corners of the mosque. When the tsunami hit Hambantota and the survivors ran to the mosque at the center of town, there was no sectarianism or religious differences; Buddhist, Muslims, Catholics and Hindus all gathered in one place and held each other.

Mr. Mohamed Zahir introduced me to Mr. Azmi Thassim, the Director General for relief in the Hambantota region. We held extensive discussions about what AED could do in helping the children in the survivor camps and also locate our 60 students. Mr. Azmi Thassim explained that enough food supplies had arrived from the UN, but that the children in the camps were traumatized. I explained to Mr. Thassim that we would do anything in our power to help these children, and that AED was already preparing training sessions for our teachers and counseling staff to come and provide therapeutic help. I also explained to Mr. Thassim that AED was prepared to replace the school we lost to the tsunami, and due to the high number of children without parents in the Hambantota region, we would be putting plans together for an orphanage.

We went back to the mosque to meet up with team members that had stayed behind looking for any of our children in the camp. After we came back, Mr. Zahir took behind the mosque, where a mass grave had been created to bury the dead in Hambantota (unlike the Buddhist, the Muslims do not cremate). Mr. We then proceeded to several other camps in the Hambantota region to locate as many of our children as possible. By 6:30 it was getting too dark to continue so we called it a day.

I am now writing this from our base just outside of Hambantota. And as I reflect on this day, I am greatly inspired despite the tragedy that surrounds us. To have experienced the warmth and acceptance from this Muslim village and their leadership, despite the fact that I am from a country involved in a confusing war on Muslim territory, gave me reason to pause. And to see survivors from different religions working together, able to somehow set aside years of tension and conflict gives me hope. When so many have lost so much, the religious and cultural differences truly appear trivial; instead of fighting, they find refuge in whoever is standing close by. And they hug.

We started out early this morning for Kallar, where 52 children attend our school there; we had not heard a single word from anyone regarding their status. It was raining again, heavily, and the roads started to flood with many becoming impassable by our trucks. I decided to take the four wheel drive and find the best and safest route to where the makeshift ferry terminal had been setup and see if one of the lorry trucks would be able to cross over on it. We found the ferry but it was small and in bad shape, and there was no way the lorry would be able to cross. Further, the LTTE did not want us to bring the shipment over to our school unless we were providing relief for the entire village. I explained that it was not possible for us to provide for the entire village, but that we would leave whatever we had leftover after distributing to the children from our school. They finally agreed to take us and the four wheel drive over so that we could see how bad things were, and come up with a plan for transporting the relief supplies to the children.

Once we arrived across the lagoon, we saw what appeared to be apocalyptic destruction. We were the only vehicle on the island moving around; we saw several abandoned buses along the road, but that was it. Apparently there was no fuel, and people appeared to be huddled in the rain along side the road. More importantly, there was no sign of aid or relief from anywhere.

We found the place where our AED School used to be; there was nothing left but one or two walls standing. The children were all staying in a temporary shelter further inland on the island. We made our way there, and began hearing the stories of how many had lost their moms, dads, brothers and sisters. The children looked like they had not eaten in days. The rain made it seem all the more desperate, but I have to say it was one of the saddest moments I have experienced so far; so many faces expressing the pain of losing not only their homes, but everyone in their family. We found just over 100 children huddled together, out of which 49 were from our school. We were not able to establish if they were orphaned or just hoping to get food. In any case, the scene appeared heartbreaking and desperate. To make matters more complicated, the villagers seemed upset that no one had arrived with aid, and were taking it out on us with threats. Things were getting tense, and there was no sign of military or police anywhere on the island, which was in LTTE territory.

We immediately left and returned to the ferry that brought us over. Just as we were loading on to go back, the largest crocodile I have ever seen floated by about 30 yards out. It had to be over 6 feet in length. In any case, we made it across and went back to where we had the lorry truck waiting. We secured a tractor and trailer, and decided to bring both the lorry and the tractor to the ferry and load the supplies on the tractor, taking only the tractor with the relief supplies back across.

Once we secured the tractor and returned with the vehicles to the ferry place, the LTTE ferry operator refused to take us back across, first saying the tractor would be too heavy. After I assured him he was wrong, and that I would take full responsibility for his ferry, he then said he needed permission from his superior, the divisional secretary, to go back to the island. I pulled out my cell phone and handed it to him and said, “Call him now.” He looked at me somewhat surprised but took the phone. After the call to his superior, he said he needed more money because of the increased risk. By this time I was running out of patience, knowing the children were waiting for us bring them food and relief supplies. I wanted to grab this man by the neck and shake him, but I restrained myself. After another 30 minutes or so of negotiations and a significant increase in the passage fare, he agreed to take us across, but said we would have only 45 minutes to get the supplies to the children and back to the ferry; he assured us he would leave with or without us at 6:30 pm.

AED was the first organization to bring food and relief supplies to anyone on Kallar; that is something I don’t understand with the massive relief effort focused on Sri Lanka. Once their, we headed straight for the makeshift location the children were staying, and began distributing the supplies as quickly as we could. I wanted more time to talk to the children, and find out more about what had happened on the island, and how many in total had lost their families, but that would have to wait. We were finished and made it back to the ferry place with about 10 minutes to spare. He had already left with the barge.

We all stood there, wondering what we were going to do, as the village people began gathering around us; things were getting tense once again. After a moment of shock and anger at being duped and stranded by our ferry operator, I began asking around if anyone had a small boat and paddle, which could at least take one of us back across the lagoon in order to get the ferry to return. We were told there were no boats left on the island; all had been destroyed in the tsunami. We stood around for about thirty minutes as it grew darker. Finally, in the distance, we heard a boat; it was small, but it had an outboard motor, and was about 100 yards or more out in the lagoon. We all started to scream loudly, but the boat did not seem to detour its course. I then turned to Jeff Prickett, and quickly told him to flash the boat with his camera. He did this several times, and the boat started to change its course and was now headed straight for us.

The boat was no more than 15 feet long with a small outboard, but we negotiated for the fisherman to take as many of us as he could back across the lagoon, which he did. I was so angry at our ferry operator, but knew expressing this to him would only make matters worse. Besides, when we found him, he was completely drunk.
Tomorrow we will be heading to Hambantota, where we lost yet another school, and an area that we have been told is one of the worst affected by the tsunami. Tonight we are in Ampara, staying at a room in a house provided by the police HQY (headquarters inspector of Ampara), a Mr. Jayantha: no fan, no mosquito net, no water, but we are all too tired to care.

The convoy started out early this morning with heavy hearts. The only bright spot to the beginning of this day was that the rain had stopped and the sun broke through the clouds. Also, the water seemed to finally be receding. It was difficult leaving the Mankeni region knowing we had so many hurting children still in the camps, many who are now orphaned as a result of the tsunami. I am making a point at some time in the next few days to come up with a strategic plan that addresses the psychological trauma these children now live with. Many of the child survivors I have held simply stare blankly, or sit quiet and listless on the fringes of the camps. And though they have not eaten in days, they show no indication of hungry; they are simply sad.

There is so much work still to do here in Mankeni, but we also have four more schools further south on the east coast of Sri Lanka that have not been assessed for damage and survivors: Chenkalady, Batticaloa, Kalawanchchikudy, and Kallar (which had become an island). We arrived at Chenkalady around 10:30 am, and found the school in good shape, no refugees, and proceeded to the house of our school principle, Mrs. Jeewaganthan who lives only a few blocks away. She assured us all of our students from the school were alive, though many had lost their houses, some losing both house and parents. She did not have much more detail than that, since the phone lines were still down, and many of the children had scattered to other family member’s in the region.

We explained to Mrs. Jeewaganthan that we would take any survivors from the school that had lost their homes to our orphanage Samudra Sri. We then quickly left for Batticaloa. Once there, we went to our school director’s home, Mr. Rajinikanth. He heard we were coming, and was waiting for us at the entrance to the village on the main road; his house and our school were destroyed in the tsunami, but none of our children were missing or hurt, and none were living in survivor camps.

We did not stay long and left for Kalawanchchikudy, arriving at about 2:00 pm. Our school was destroyed, and survivors in the area were in bad shape. We had children still missing, but it was still uncertain if they were missing as a result of the confusion or if they had perished in the tsunami. Many of our children were scattered around the dozen or more survivor camps in the village. The UN vehicles are becoming visible; we saw more aid and rescue workers today than in all the previous days combined, and it appeared this village was getting a lot of attention. We dispatched three of our team members to look for any AED children in the various camps while we disbursed some of our relief supplies.

Our last AED School on the south-east coastal region is in Kallar and located on an isthmus which had been turned into an island by the tsunami. The only way in and out of the island was now by one small ferry-barge operated by the LTTE. We were told it had already stopped running for the day, and veryone was exhausted, so we decided to rest until morning and leave for Kallar at first light.

Before the convoy could leave our AED School in Valachinei and head to Mankeni, I needed to secure permission from the Sri Lankan military to pass through the DMZ zone and into LTTE territory; it was one thing for a few of us to take the four-wheel drive, two days before, but now we would be highly visible with our three large lorry trucks, van, and truck. I had no way of knowing this would become the longest day of my life.

I went to the regional Sri Lanka Army Military Command Center located just outside of Valachinei, and met with Colonel Wagama, who appeared overwhelmed with the relief effort the military had been involved in since the disaster began. I explained to him the desperateness of the situation in Mankeni, and that no aid had as of yet arrived to the survivors there; he appeared sympathetic, but warned that the military would not take any responsibility for anything that might happen past the last military check point controlled by the Sri Lankan Army, in what he called the “uncleared zones.” I assured him that I fully understood, and thanked him for his help. He wanted to give us some tents to take for the survivors, but discovered they had none left on the base.

After securing the Colonel’s permission, I needed to secure permission from the LTTE political leader of the eastern region, Arul Selvem, who goes by the LTTE name of “Jaya.” This was a far greater challenge due to the tsunami and subsequent flooding; “Jaya” was located in an area still inaccessible. We finally decided to risk going into the “uncleared zone” of the LTTE and proceed post haste, believing any LTTE fighters we encountered would be sympathetic to our rescue/relief efforts since it was taking place in their territory, for their people.

As our convoy headed out of Valachinei, we came across a large tourist-bus stopped on the side of the road; the passengers were taking pictures of areas destroyed by the tsunami. They were a medical rescue team of 35 doctors from Taiwan, who had just arrived that morning. I went to the leader of the team and explained the situation in Mankeni region, and asked if they could spare one doctor who could come with us to treat the injured and sick survivors. His initial response was, “Without medical supplies?” To which I responded that we indeed had medical supplies, at least enough to get started and that I had ordered another shipment of antibiotics that would be arriving on the 2nd from Calcutta. He then said they would not split up, but only worked as a team. There was certainly no way the bus they were traveling in could possibly make it anywhere near the Mankeni region, so I asked if they would mind riding in vans, if we could arrange them. Finally, their Sri Lankan counterpart stepped in and said, “We cannot go to the uncleared zones. Sorry.” Our doctors were still incapacitated behind the Batticaloa flood area, so we proceeded to Mankeni without any medical expertise on our team.

The challenge of getting four large lorry trucks, my four-wheel drive, two motorcycles, and a van, to Mankeni would take a book to chronicle; suffice to say, it heroic efforts were needed on the part of our team members to make it happen. I have never been more proud of a group of individuals anytime in my life; these were real heroes. By the time we arrived, many on our team were covered from head to toe in mud, working to get the lorry trucks unstuck several times along the way. Further, we were shocked to find the camp had now grown into two units of survivors totaling over 800 people, all in just over 24 hours. While we were there, the Medicine Sans Frontiers doctor we met on the road two days previous had returned, this time, in a four wheel drive exactly like mine. The French doctor asked us if we could take some of our rescue supplies to a survivor’s camp approximately five kilometers further down the road from Mankeni, in a village called Kirimichchi that no one had yet been to; the refugees were in desperate need of food and supplies. We made the decision to proceed to the survivor’s camp at Kirimichchi once we had unloaded enough supplies for the survivors at Mankeni.

Shortly after arriving with our entire convoy at the Kirimichchi refugee camp, the LTTE soldiers showed up with their rebel commander “Shuresh.” I explained to him who we were, and that we were prepared to help this survivor’s camp at Kirimichchi with whatever means at our disposal. He did not seem impressed, but let us proceed with the relief effort after lengthy negotiations.

The camps we have brought relief supplies to have not received any aid or help from any other organizations at this point so far. We have sent the two empty lorry trucks back to Colombo to re-supply and meet us at the next destination, our AED School in Kalavanchikudi, just south of Batticaloa. The phones are down in this region, and we still have not heard from our school; we have no idea what to expect when we arrive tomorrow.

I will write more later, but my laptop is running out of battery

We were told the convoy still could not pass due to the high water, and to make matters worse, we received word from our four doctors who had left yesterday that they had become stranded behind the flood waters in Batticaloa, and would not be able to reach us; I felt a wave of panic come over me, not knowing what we would do without at least one doctor coming with us to the Mankeni region. We gathered our remaining team members, and made the decision to move on, despite the flooding, and drove the convoy as far as Valachinei.

Once there, we distributed aid relief to the survivors at our school in Valachinei and then heard about a survivor’s camp only a few kilometers from our school that had more than 80 children who had lost their parents. We decided to take two of the trucks and head there, a place called Kalkuda. We found the children, and also several hundred adult survivors. They were all wet and hungry, and when we started to disburse the relief material, the crowd went out of control, and began rushing our truck and workers; I left in my four-wheel drive, and found three soldiers who agreed to come and help establish order.

Once back at our AED School, we began to make plans for the next day to reach the village in Mankeni. The lorry trucks were heavily loaded, and I knew the roads (not to mention the flooded and bridgeless rivers) would be a great challenge. We were able to secure two tractors and trailers that would come along. This was in case we did get stuck, we could at least transport as much of the relief supplies as possible from the trucks via the tractors.
We all went to bed exhausted around 2:30 am.

After a sleepless night, we headed to another of our AED School further north, in a village called Panichanganei, to help with rescue efforts going on there, and where 15 of our children had lost their lives to the tsunami. The roads were still not passable with our convoy, so we took one motorbike to lead and scout the road ahead along with our four-wheel drive pickup. The roads were in worse shape than we had anticipated, with several of the bridges washed away by the tsunami; it took us nearly 8 hours just to reach the village of Panichanganei. The only problem was, there was no village left; the entire area looked as if it had been bombed. The only thing visible were pieces of concrete where foundations used to support houses, sticks and corrugated roofing material twisted up and tangled with fishing nets, household items, and other debris. There was not a single standing structure left in the entire village.

Along with the visual impact came the smell of rotting corpses; many of the bodies were buried under the piles of debris, and had not yet been reached, and probably never would be. In fact, the only ones we came across were two middle aged Tamil men with bags, scavenging, or looting, what was left under the debris. When I asked one of them what he had in his bag, he would not show me. We later learned that many of the bodies found had ears and fingers missing from scavengers taking jewelry off the corpses. We were told that any survivors from the village had walked 10 kilometers inland, to a survivor’s camp; those too sick or injured to walk, were huddled in a Catholic church, and a field next to the church, next to the rotting corpses and debris. We did not find any of our AED children at the church, and decided to head to the location 10 kilometers away where the survivors had walked, hoping to find at least some of the children from our school at the camp. Along the way we found children who had survived and lost, so we picked them up and took them to the refugee camp at our Valachinei School.

It was not until we started to drive to the location where the survivors of Panichanganei village had walked to, that I realized it was located behind the DMZ zone in an area called Mankeni. Getting there even in the four-wheel drive was a challenge; the roads were in horrendous condition, and the rivers were now swollen to twice their size.

On the way, we passed a van with two doctors from Medicines Sans Frontiers, who told us the river was impassable and we would have to turn back. I talked it over with my team members (including one of my AED board members from Bozeman, Montana, Mr. Jeff Pricket, who flew in to help with the relief effort) and we decided we would continue despite the warning. At one point, the water began washing over the hood of our four-wheel drive, but we made it across. Once we arrived in Mankeni, the conditions were sad beyond belief. No one, not any aid organization or government officials had yet visited this makeshift refugee area. There were 423 people huddled together in the school building, after walking 10 kilometers from their village, with only the clothes on their backs. A few were lucky having their entire family member survived; they were quietly huddled together. The vast majority however had lost at least one member of their family, and many of the children (by our assessment, 36) had lost both of their parents.

Many of the children were already suffering from dysentery, vomiting, and fever. To be honest, I stood totally still for a moment, and just felt completely overwhelmed. One little boy was brought to me, he had stepped on something sharp when he ran from the tsunami, and his foot looked badly infected. I grabbed a Ziploc bag of antiseptics and bandages and did what I could; he really needs stitches and something stronger, but it was all we had with us at the time. Others started to come, thinking I was a doctor; we did what we could, and knew we needed to get our convoy of relief supplies here ASAP. On a bright note, we found 12 of our AED students in the camp.

Arrived in Colombo where our team was ready to leave for Valachinei, which lies between Trincomolee and Batticaloa. AED had six schools in this region along the eastern seaboard of Sri Lanka. Our team of 24 along with a convoy of three lorry trucks full of medicine, dry rations, bed mats, kerosene lamps and cooking supplies headed out for the worst affected areas that we could reach, but only made it as far as Polanoruwa, due to the flooded roads. Our four doctors went ahead to Batticaloa in the van because we had heard many of the children from our school in Kalavanchikudi (just south of Batticaloa) were in desperate need of medical care; that would be one logistical decision I would later regret making. We left the convoy in Polanoruwa, and took our four-wheel drive Toyota pickup, several boxes of medical supplies and as much relief material that we could carry in the back of the truck and headed to Valachinei, with our doctors heading south toward Batticaloa.

AED typically works in areas where schools are non existent or inadequate, which often puts us in the civil war refugee areas and other difficult to reach, very marginalized regions of Sri Lanka, often deep behind LTTE territory. The civil war is between the Sri Lankan government forces who control about two-thirds of the island of Sri Lanka, and the LTTE who are Tamil and control about one-third of the island. Our AED Schools on the east of Sri Lanka are Tamil schools. By nightfall, we reached our school located in Valachinei, which had been converted into a rescue camp. It was pretty late, but we jumped in and helped the Sri Lankan military search for survivors along the coast. The water from the tsunami had still not totally receded and it began to rain, heavily. Even though it was dark, we could see the destruction caused by the tsunami. We pulled debris apart, searching for anyone that might be alive and trapped. In the area I was working, the only bodies found were already dead. Hampering our efforts was the existence of land mines that had been washed up by the tsunami