Despite the generosity of donors rebuilding his village, cashew farmer Som Praivate sometimes feels like a stranger in his island home.
During the day the 62-year-old aimlessly rides his old bicycle around the well-paved streets of the new Ban Pak Jok village on the northern tip of Kho Phra Thong. There are few people to talk with. He has one close friend, Somchan Kongkaew, 64, but the once thriving village — rebuilt and relocated — is now a virtual ghost town with only 30 residents.
An entire afternoon for Som can consist of sitting on the pier staring at the ocean, waiting for his fisherman son to return home.
"I don't see how people will come back to live here," he said blankly. "I can live here because I know how to live with no electricity or city water."
While most of the hardest hit areas of Thailand have rebuilt after the tsunami and the tourism industry returned to normal, Ban Pak Jok has become a strange twilight town — the reconstruction alienating many villagers.
Ten years ago, Som had lived an idyllic life in the original Ban Pak Jok on the western side of Koh Phra Thong, exposed to the Andaman Sea and its seasonal monsoons. Largely uninhabited with long, windswept beaches, the 88-square-kilometre island was home to only 800 people, half of those residing in Ban Pak Jok.
Som's life had been simple enough living by the ocean. Unlike most of the other villagers, he didn't earn his living from fishing. He had inherited a coconut and cashew plantation from his parents. Set in the hills behind the village, it brought enough money in to feed his wife and two sons.
The day the tsunami struck he had climbed the hill with a basket to pick cashew nuts. At 8.30am he heard a loud bang and phoned his friend Somchan, whose home was on the eastern side of Ban Pak Jok, away from the beachfront.
"Did you hear that?" Som asked him. "Yeah. I think someone just put dynamite under the water to catch fish," Somchan replied.
Som thought nothing more of it and continued picking. The morning passed slowly until 10.30am when he heard a loud roar approaching the island. Since the area is under a flight path, Som wasn't too perturbed. "It sounded like a lot of planes coming closer to the island," Som said of the powerful sound.
He peered at the sky and saw nothing, but then he lowered his gaze out to sea and saw the massive wave heading towards his village.
Som had no idea what it was. All he knew was he had to stay on the hill. "The waves came so quickly and wave after wave hit my village hard," he said.
He phoned Somchan to warn him, but this time he couldn't get through.
For 40 minutes Som stood on the hill watching the devastation below unfold, feeling helpless. But he also had a sense of relief as none of his family was on the island at the time.
Even though the tsunami destroyed all the houses in the village, only 30 people died as most of the villagers were fishing at sea or on the mainland for work.
But what the village had lost in terms of infrastructure was immense. Ban Pak Jok's monastery, school, health centre and community hall, which were used by all the islanders, had been destroyed.
A long, natural canal running from north to south separated the village, with several bridges connecting the two areas. Somchan's home was on the eastern side of the canal.
Som wanted to get to his friend to check if was OK, but the bridges had been destroyed.
He grabbed a boat floating in the canal and headed to the Khura Buri mainland, 1.5km away, where he contacted his family and told them the bad news. All he had was the fisherman's pants he was wearing. "We can't go back to the village. We have no home left," he said.
For the next six months the family lived in a rescue centre while a new home was built for them on the mainland by the government.
But Som needed money and decided to return to Ban Pak Jok to rebuild his home and his life. He went on his own as his family felt safer on the mainland, but he soon realised the futility of his mission. The village was totally destroyed and he was the only one there. Today nothing stands on the site except jungle and coconut trees.
He then travelled to the eastern side of the village to catch up with Somchan. He was pleased to find his old friend safe and well and living in his rebuilt home. Som built a temporary shelter near Somchan's home in the false belief that the other villagers would return.
He stayed for a year in the hope that his home town would be rebuilt, but eventually became fed up with the isolation, lack of clean water, electricity and other basic facilities.
He returned to the mainland and stayed with his family. His wife supported them by working at a fish processing plant. Som and his son earned some income from fishing.
But in 2010, Som finally heard the news he had been waiting for. Lions Club International, the philanthropic international businessmen's group, had started to rebuild Ban Pak Jok with part of the $US15 million in funds it had raised to help victims of the Asian tsunami.
The main village was to be constructed on 23 rai of land that was once a shrimp farm behind Somchan's house. Up to 110 new two-storey dwellings, all identical except for the paint, quickly sprang up in neat rows of eight and 10, barely three metres apart.
Som applied for one of the first 10 homes, a corner site, and all the homes were soon occupied by returning villagers. Because of the high demand, another 50 homes were soon erected.
There was also a new school building and a large community hall. Ban Pak Jok had been reborn, but renamed Ban Lion after its benefactors.
However, in their haste, the planners had made some rash decisions. The village was located a long distance from the main pier, making it difficult for fishermen to access.
Also, there was no proper water or electricity supply.
"Light bulbs and power cables were installed, but there is no electricity to use," Som said. "There are water pipes and a water tower, but there is no water."
Villagers were forced to rely on bore water, solar panels and generators. Som said many simply went without.
- The Fisherman
- The Survivor
- The Rescue Pilot
- The Photographer
- The Searcher
- The Nurse
- The Body Collector
- The Animal Lovers
- The Returned
- The Benefactor
After a year, the majority became fed up and started to leave, finding it difficult to cope with the inconveniences and unable to make a living.
Walking through Ban Lion today is like visiting a ghost town. Of the 165 houses, only 10 are still occupied by 30 people. Many are overgrown with vines and tropical vegetation.
In the school building there are books, blackboards, desks and chairs in the classrooms, but no students. A learning centre with exhibits about marine life is now encrusted with dust and spider webs.
Som is home at last, but not happy.
"I appreciate that they rebuilt this village for us," he said. "But it would be better if they asked us first what we want before throwing money into something that we didn't need." n
TODAY
Som’s family is one of 10 who remain in the village. His wife is on the mainland and lives there with his eldest son, who is a fisherman. His other son works at a fish processing plant and lives on the mainland at Phangnga.
In the morning, Som still works on his cashew plantation, harvesting enough to sell on the mainland. By noon, he is preparing lunch for his son, who catches shrimp to be turned into paste.
In the afternoon Som usually visits Somchan and then returns home to take a nap in the hammock tied underneath his new house.
Sometimes he walks to the pier and gazes across the canal to where the old village was. Life is quieter and there are fewer familiar faces around, but he has no desire to leave the island.
“What could I do? Where could I go? This is the only home I’ve ever known.” n