Swept Away

Much of the world has been awash in sadness in ever since that tsunami struck the shores of Southeast Asia. With the death toll increasing by some 20,000 a day right now, it's hard to imagine a disaster ever comparing to this one.

Though the facts will continue coming to light over the coming months, thus far, it's daunting. The geological immensity of this event will leave us all a little stunned for some time to come--and might certainly remove some of the allure to a quaint seaside vacation.

So far, some 77,000 lives are lost. Conservative estimates put an eventual number of at least 100,000 casualties on the catastrophe. I highly doubt that horrific number includes the deaths that are bound to come from disease and sanitation issues as a result of the chaos, and those "real" numbers might be too high too conceive.

It's all unfolding like some horribly over-the-top Hollywood film. I'm glad I no longer have any 24-hour news stations like CNN, because even in sound bites, this news is very hard to take.

Even 5,000 miles away, on the shores of Somalia, people were unsafe. The waves hit there, and in Kenya as well, reportedly ending some hundred-plus lives in those countries.

At its epicentre, though, the force of the quake and the resulting tsunami was so incredible that the island of Sumatra, which has taken the brunt of this, has not only been forcibly picked up and moved en masse more than 100 feet to the southeast, but more than 75% of the coastline on this once-idyllic island has now been utterly destroyed. The first aerial photos of this region are staggering to look at.

I was listening to one report via radio yesterday, in which a seemingly seasoned reporter was so choked by his emotions that he was stifling tears as he told his account of an Indonesian dumping ground (just one of many) for bodies--the corpses were frozen in time with rigor mortis capturing their last poses, poses of defiance and fear when faced with a staggering wall of water. Makeshift cardboard coffins with lids askew, outstretched arms protruded from the boxes, the boxes themselves piled as high as they could go, a stench stretching hundreds of yards beyond the perimeter of the dumping grounds, as if warning you off from the horrors you were about to encounter.

It's so unthinkable that such a happening will eventually come down to dollars, but that is the reality. When all the headlines of the losses start to fade away, then the real costs will come into the picture. Obviously, this will wind up being the most damaging disaster ever faced by man, and the effects will be felt far beyond the lives of those immediately affected when the waves hit. We can't even begin to know how it'll affect international economies. A year or more down the road, we'll finally start understanding all the financial repercussions for all the countries of the globe, not just those immediately involved.

As a "global village," we can't just leave it up to governments to send funds. Yes, the government is most effective at the onset of such tragedies, but for the long-term return to normality, all of us need to pitch in and send funds. Despite being pretty stretched for cash myself right now, I'll be making a contribution today as I feel it's all of our duties to take a few bucks and contribute it to the relief efforts. We can't wait for governments to mend all of this; the financial costs are far too staggering.

It's strange how grief and money are always so intricately linked, whether it's a loved one or an international tragedy, it always comes down to dollars, because that's the only way you can move past your loss. Hopefully with more of us feeling generous, we can make life a little simpler for those who've lost everything except their will to live.