New Orleans, Louisiana 2021-12-04 05:00:00 –
What do the beautiful pictures of the three Irish cherubim children have to do with surviving a storm in the jungle of a tropical island?
In 2006, I stayed in Thailand for a month and reported on recovery from the tsunami compared to recovery from Katrina, Louisiana. On my trip to Thailand, I went to Phi Phi Island, a small butterfly-shaped island in the Andaman Sea, about 90 minutes by ferry from Phuket.
I made a series of mistakes regarding time on Phi Phi Island. One was to book accommodation on Phi Phi Island at Bangkok Airport. Two weeks later, I left Phuket for Phi Phi Island and learned that the populous part of the island corresponds to the body of a butterfly. The wings were mountainous and almost inhabitable — only accessible by boat, except in some places.
The place I booked was the wings of the island. I took a long boat to the “resort” and used the word loosely to find that my cabin was clean and comfortable. Built on the side of the mountain, it took more energy than expected to move. After 6 pm, there was a warning that boats would not be able to reach the accommodation from the city center of the island.
On the first morning, I walked through the jungle to the town for interviews and photo shoots. The day was powerful when I talked to several survivors and heard a tragic story about an island that was almost completely wiped out by the tsunami. Keeping in mind that I’m back in time, I took a long boat taxi around 4pm.
Surprisingly, the boat stopped in the middle of the water about 5 minutes away from the dock I used the day before. The man driving it began to speak actively to me in sign language and Thai. I sat there and was stunned with a newspaper camera, backpack, notebook, etc., about 40-50 yards from the beach.
I finally noticed that they are saying that this is / as much as they can / can take me. The amount of begging did not make a difference. I had to get out of the boat, out into the water and get to the shore. I couldn’t see the hotel and didn’t know where it was. As I said, this was a mountain jungle.
Finally, they literally expressed what I once understood on the beach, walked on the beach, and used ropes to climb “small” cliffs. It was easy to get to the hotel from there. I wasn’t sure how deep the water was and didn’t believe I could make it without losing the expensive camera in the newspaper. The water was real. One of the drivers finally jumped into the water and took me a camera. I follow. At the shore, he pointed to the road to the cliff.
It was dark and it started to rain. I was soaked — rain didn’t matter. When I reached the cliffs and ropes, I felt like I was climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. I remember thinking, “What you can do when you have no other choice is amazing.”
It rained heavily, but I could see the light ahead. The Open Pavilion Restaurant walked to a crowded resort centered around a local man and two girls who looked like me. I got some food and sat by a girl who turned out to be Irish.
As the storm intensified, the resort dubbed Steve Carell’s “The 40-Year-Old Virgin Man” in Thai and screened it in pirated English subtitles. The three of us sitting on the floor enjoyed the movie. The night was surreal. I especially trembled in the storm. We decided to spend the night together in the cabin and stayed up until it was time to talk.
You will get to know people better in such situations.
One of those women was Tracy Cod. We have become friends on Facebook and have been chasing each other’s lives ever since. I’ve seen Tracy change from one girl to three mothers. I have seen her children, Thienan, 9 Lara, 6 and Charlie Cod, 3 grow up.
Last week, Tracy had to “trash” while they were decorating a house in Ross Rhea Harbor, Wexford, on the southeastern coast of Ireland. She decided to peep at the children while she was outside. Fortunately, she had a cell phone to capture the moment.
The pictures of the children decorating the front window of the house on holidays warm my heart. It’s amazing to feel the connection with three children you’ve never met.
For them and you, all your storms may lead to such warmth and tranquility.
Jan Risher: A jungle storm leads o warmth and tranquility, years down the road | Jan Risher Source link Jan Risher: A jungle storm leads o warmth and tranquility, years down the road | Jan Risher