I first met Padama in March.

It was only three months after the powerful tsunami ravaged the coastline of India .

Padama was working in a field when I first met her. She was moving earth. Crusts of soil were baking in the fields, and those crusts were saturated with salt that had come into the fields with each wave of the tsunami.

“The fields need to be repaired,” a worker with CASA told me. “There is so much salt mixed in with the soil, that if we don't remove the crust, what will grow?”

Padama joined a workforce of dozens that day to manually carry load after load of this “poisoned soil” and heave them onto hills of rubbish.

For that, CASA paid Padama and others like her in cash and food.

CASA is a large Protestant and Orthodox relief and development agency. It has become one of the major organizations doing relief, rehabilitation and recovery from the tsunami affected areas up and down the coast of India .

Lutheran World Relief partners with CASA and other experienced agencies to bring help and hope to people rebuilding their lives after the tsunami.

Padama has much rebuilding ahead of her. Her house was devastated by the tsunami. The fishing boats in her village were mostly destroyed, and with that went her livelihood of selling fish.

So when she heard that CASA was hiring people to remove the salinated layers of earth from fertile fields, she found a job that would help carry her through the tough days following the immediate relief handouts from the government and agencies. But her dream was to return to her job of selling fish.

That temporary period of hard work with the soil brought her about $45 and 450 kilos of rice. It was enough to sustain her, and she was glad for the chance to participate in that work program.

After a morning of toiling in the field on that March day, she sat down near her house to tell me her story. Her husband was a fisherman. About two years ago he died in a fishing related accident. This left Padama then with the task of earning enough money to feed herself, her 7-year old son, and her four daughters--now ranging from 11 years of age to her 18-year old twins.

Fishing had been good, and so was her business in selling fish at a local market.

But then came the tsunami, and her life was engulfed in tears. Her income was gone, her house was destroyed, and…and then her voice stopped as fresh tears flowed. She could not finish the sentence. The widow had lost her only son in the waves.

She felt it was the biggest tragedy in her life. Her husband's death, followed now by her cherished son's death, left her without the traditional supports in her life. In her culture, it was virtually certain that this 40-year old woman could never marry again.

Nearly five months passed since that day of my first conversation with Padama. But today I visited her village, Pushpavaram, once again. It was a festival day, and Padama was at home.

She remembered me immediately, as I remembered her. Her face looked brighter than before, and I sensed that this time my conversation with her would be easier.

We began to talk about her life now.

She was back at work selling fish. To help her in her trade, CASA had given her an ice box, a scale, a knife and an aluminum vessel. These supplies, valued at about $65, had given her a new start once again.

She described her typically day. She would rise up in the morning at six, work at the house for two hours, and then meet the fishing boats to buy fish that she could resell. On good days, she could make almost $4. By six in the evening she would return home to her family. But when she talked about her family, tears again dropped from her cheeks.

She led me to a house under construction. It was a permanent house that would be similar to one CASA soon would be building for her. It was made of bricks, and had a kitchen, a living room, a verandah, and one bedroom with an attached toilet. The house—built according to government specifications—would measure between 300-325 square feet. She thought that was just fine. It would be at least twice the size of her temporary house.

I told Padama that my time in India was coming to an end. And then I asked her what she thought I would see if I came back in five years.

Her eyes brightened. But she said nothing about scales for selling fish or furniture for her house.

Instead, she said, some of her daughters would be married and…

with a bright smile, she finished her sentence:

…She would have a grandson!

 

*Thiemann is a former LWR Program Director for Asia and the Middle East.  He served for six months as LWR’s Tsunami Consultant in India.

Photos:

Padama and daughter come out of their temporary shelter with a scale for weighing fish. (Photo: Chris Thiemann)

Padama and Gene Thiemann discuss the building of a permanent house with a mason. (Photo: Chris Thiemann)

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