>>>Burma (Myanmar) Cyclone Update>>>
About the same time I wrote my previous blog entry on Cyclone Nargis in Burma (Myanmar), I emailed Jim and Debbie Taylor at IDE. It’s been several days, but they just got their internet back and replied to me (things in the capital city may be improving, but I’m sure the Irrawaddy Delta is in seriously bad shape, and may be worse after this upcoming new storm passes). I thought I’d post this email from them in Burma. Note that I asked them for the best way to provide financial assistance, and I’ve highlighted their response to that question below:
[Side note: the picture that appears with this posting is one I took at Inle Lake in 2005. This was part of one of the longest and emptiest stretches of market I have ever seen. There must have been 50 vendors for every shopper in this market on the way to a crumbling temple. This man paints with his one appendage, and yet manages to produce works of art I couldn't touch. Amazing the spirit of the Burmese people.]
Dear Greg,
Thanks so much for writing to ask about us. That’s very thoughtful of you. And thanks for mentioning the people of Myanmar in your blog.
Here’s our latest update:
What a horrendous and surreal week it’s been. We’re finally getting our bearings and finding some time to respond to emails. (We also finally got internet service back a few days ago .)
It all started last Friday when we saw reports on the internet that a cyclone was brewing in the Bay of Bengal and might hit Yangon around midnight. At the office we told our staff about it and sent everyone home early that afternoon. Our power and phone went out about 11pm. Having never been in the direct path of a cyclone, we didn’t quite know what to expect. About midnight, the rains and winds started to pick up. With each passing hour, the winds became more violent; we started getting worried when our big front metal gate swung open, breaking the lock and coming off its hinges. Then the big, tall trees in our yard started to lean to the side. It was especially unnerving to see the heavy ceramic tiles start flying off our roof. By 4am, the howling winds were so strong, they pushed rainwater sideways, causing a river of water through every porch door, flooding both our upstairs and downstairs. The windows started to blow open by themselves, so we scurried around shutting them and latching them down. As we were madly trying to close one window downstairs, we watched a 60-foot tall, durian tree in our back yard become uprooted, keel over and crash to the ground.
