While the loss of life, livelihood and property is immense in Habaraduwa District, my off-the-cuff guess is that conditions here are better than in many places on the Sri Lanka coast. This in itself, indicates the magnitude of the national catastrophe, since they’ll be a long time coming back in this district. The economy in this district depended largely on fishing and tourism, so the population is a mix of poor families scraping a living from the sea, next to hotels, guest houses, dive shops and restaurants. 

Some physical evidence of relief activities stand out. In one locale, a number of large dark blue tents with a Rotary International logo stood out on sites where homes used to be. I also saw several pale blue tents with large white Japanese characters. The JVP, or Peoples Liberation Front, a political party, had set up relief stations in a few places along the main road. “JVP” initials were prominently displayed. A German government relief crew was in the area, cleaning wells.

I saw 11 facilities for displaced people.  Most were in Buddhist temples, but a few were in schools. These were not camps as much as short-term emergency shelters. At the temples the head monks were impressive and organized. They are taking good care of their people. Food and water flowing from larger emergency tanks are mostly sufficient in this area. People had set up makeshift kitchens at the temples and schools and were cooking for the group. Families were sleeping on mats indoors or in open air roofed structures. They had mosquito nets. Packets of dried food, medicines (cipro, amoxicillin, cough syrup, syringes, latex gloves, toothpaste, etc.) were laid out neatly on separate tables. Some temples still needed supplies.  At the Uggalwalla Temple, housing 54 families, with 83 kids ages 5-18 and 22 under 5 years, the head monk said he needed towels, soap, toothpaste, sanitary napkins, toys for kids, mosquito coils, untensils, spices and onions.

The populations at the temples varied widely.  Some had already been vacated because people had returned to their communities; others had hundreds of people. Residents of the camps were more buoyant, on average, than one might expect. This probably reflects the passage of time since the disaster and also maybe the natural cheerfulness of Sri Lankans.  Smiles in the face of tragedy are impressive and contagious.

The wisdom of relying on local structures, such as the temples and schools, and local humanitarian organizations, such as Sewa Lanka, an established non-governmental organization with offices throughout the country, is clear.  They have made quick and accurate assessments of need, they have excellent community contacts, the people trust them, and they are committed to retaining a local presence long after international relief agencies depart. The simplistic response might be -- knowing that temples are housing homeless -- to throw food, water, clothes, and medicines at each one. That would be a waste. Needs vary.  At one temple, the road access was so narrow that a truck bringing food couldn’t make it to the temple. So it offloaded a ways away and neighbors grabbed the food and ran. That temple needed supplies. Most didn’t, or their needs were limited.  I’d say the monks seemed completely honest about their needs; there appeared to be no attempt to stockpile or hoard food or supplies.

Rebuilding housing will be a long, monumental and, perhaps, politically controversial challenge.  The government has announced plans to ban rebuilding within 300 meters of the shore. This may make all sorts of theoretical sense in that it will clear out squatter communities and make the shoreline more scenic and environmentally sound. But it is fraught with problems for the villagers. Where will they find new land in their home villages? The shore zone is narrow and fairly densely populated. Since many residents are fishermen, will they have to now settle at a great distance from the water? There's talk of building low-income, high rise flats. That will be wrenching. There's a huge opportunity for creative thinking on quick-building housing.

In the meantime, one fisherman told me that the government has promised to provide temporary housing–crude shelters of timber and coconut fiber matting that will be good, he says, for one to two years. Each house costs 25,000 rupees.  “That’s 250 American dollars,” he said.  I asked him how he knew that. “I read the papers,” he said, also citing the rupee exchange rate vs. the pound and the Euro. Remarkable.  All politics may be local, but the economy is increasingly global.

Go to Refugees International's tsunami crisis page to read all the latest news about the tsunami.