Monica Falk, a Swedish anthropologist, has written an ethnographically rich book on the societal and religious aftermath of the devastating tsunami that hit southern Thailand, as well as Indonesia, Sri Lanka, and southern India, in late December 2004. Falk carried out interviews and observations in the province of Phang Nga following the tsunami. Seventy-eight percent of the nearly 5,400 deaths, 66 percent of the injured, and 59 percent of the missing were reported from Phang Nga (table 1.1, p. 11). The hardest hit were villages along the coast, especially those of Austronesian-speaking Moklen/Moken, formerly known as Sea Gypsies because of their periodic moves from place to place. Although the Moklen/Moken were not ethnically Thai, they did receive some aid and were included in the memorials. By contrast, the large number of mainly illegal Burmese workers in the province were essentially invisible to relief workers. This was also true of thousands of upcountry Thai, mainly from the northeast, who worked in resorts in the province. While the Thai press gave particular attention to the death of Poom Jensen, the autistic son of Princess Ubolratana and the grandson of the king, international attention focused on the deaths and suffering among the thousands of Western tourists who had been visiting resorts on the west coast of southern Thailand, the largest number of whom were in Phang Nga. The film The Impossible, about the aftermath of the tsunami, is typical in its focus on the suffering of foreigners. Falk, a native of Gothenburg, Sweden, which had the highest percentage of Western tourists' fatalities from the tsunami, offers a very different perspective.
Because Falk's previous research had been about Thai Buddhism and especially Buddhist nuns, she pays particular attention to the role of the sangha (Buddhist monks) and nuns following the tragedy. In Thai Buddhist belief, a person who dies an “untimely death” becomes a ghost (phi) who can cause suffering for their living relatives. “The beaches and where people died, as well as the temples, cemeteries and places where the corpses were kept, were considered as especially dangerous places haunted by phis and there were many stories that frightened people,” observes Falk (p. 120). It was thus considered essential for the bereaved and other members of local communities to thambun (make offerings) to monks so that the merit generated could be dedicated to the dead to ensure that their winyan (souls) would be reborn and not become wandering ghosts. The local Buddhist temples also “organized activities and temporary ordination retreats as a principal part of the recovery process” (p. 128).
Most of the Buddhist activities were centered on monks, as only men are permitted legally to become members of the sangha in Thailand. The few local mae chi (Buddhist nuns) in Phang Nga and a few from elsewhere did offer some assistance, but this paled in comparison to the role monks played. Buddhist monks and nuns were seen by local people as acting out of disinterested “compassion,” a Buddhist virtue, rather than because of other interests. In this, Falk observes, they were viewed differently from many of the other aid workers, including not only government officials, but also many of those affiliated with nongovernmental organizations, some of which had additional motives.
Thai government aid, while more timely than on other occasions, was beset by the usual problems of corruption associated with Thai government agencies. Falk states that “[c]orruption was so visible to everybody that a relief worker mentioned that a village leader openly admitted to taking 20 per cent commission from government tsunami aid that was meant for villagers, explaining that such funds were needed to lobby officials” (p. 179; also see p. 141). Such an example of corruption is hardly unique to Thailand among countries experiencing huge disasters. Among the NGOs were some Christian groups that attempted to use their aid as a means to win converts. Although they had some success, the conversions also “created divisions within the village and lack of trust between villagers,” says Falk (p. 146). This finding notwithstanding, Falk concludes with a positive assessment of the role of religion in promoting “resilience” in the face of the apparently unfathomable losses wrought by a natural disaster like the tsunami. “Religion … is commonly linked to the search for meaning behind disasters and it promotes social interconnectedness” (p. 195).
As I have been preparing this review, I have seen a number of reflections on the changes that have taken place ten years after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. Like Katrina, the tsunami that hit Thailand in 2004 has also been remembered both officially and unofficially. In the concluding chapter of her book, Falk writes, “The exclusion and neglect of survivors in the official memorial services and their lack of representation in the permanent memorial risked fostering additional trauma” (p. 171). In the case of the tsunami, the most unremembered were the Burmese workers who lacked legal permission to be in Thailand. Not only were there no memorials for them, but many of their corpses were never identified. The untold stories of these invisible and least remembered Burmese have much in common with the tragic stories of many African American families in New Orleans in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.
Falk's detailed study adds much to an understanding of how the tsunami disaster was confronted in Thailand. It also offers insights that are relevant to the understanding of major disasters elsewhere.
