It’s been 20 years since a devastating earthquake in the Indian Ocean triggered a killer tsunami that swept away over 225,000 lives. It was the day after Christmas in 2004 when waves 30 metres high barrelled up from the sea with destructive fury, wiping out coastal communities from Indonesia to Thailand and Sri Lanka.
With a tragedy so immense, it’s hard to know how to help.
For people watching from Squamish, a community vulnerable to destruction from hazards of its own, it was hard to comprehend the scale of this event—let alone figure out a way to reach across the ocean to offer aid, beyond sending cash to the Red Cross. For resident Peter Gordon, who was lying awake sick while he watched the news of the tsunami on TV, the urge to help was overwhelming.
“I was sick as a dog, and I couldn’t sleep. So, sitting up, I watched television news all night, and it was all about the tsunami. It was such a shocking event. There were dramatic videos of the wave and the destruction. Hundreds of thousands were killed, including a friend of mine from North Vancouver,” he told The Â鶹Éç¹ú²ú.
“Suddenly it struck me: what if Â鶹Éç¹ú²úraised some money and adopted a village to repair, village to village?”
To Sri Lanka with love
The idea had immediate momentum.
Gordon contacted then-District councillor Jeff Dawson, who was instantly enthusiastic, and shortly later, an organizing committee was formed, a society was created, and 150 volunteers flooded in to help in numerous capacities—including kids selling cookies in school, residents creating care packages and families gathering clothing donations. They decided to call themselves the Â鶹Éç¹ú²úHumanity Village Project.
Donations came in thick and fast, and they ultimately raised $250,000. Now, all they needed was a place to send it.
“Happily, a very kind woman in West Vancouver read that Jeff was a city councillor, so she called city hall to track him down. When they connected, she told Jeff that she had received a call from her brother in Sri Lanka pleading with her to help raise funds for a small fishing village on the south coast that got hammered hard,” Gordon said.
“So we had our village.”
Intent on their mission, the organizers learned as much as they could about Wanduruppa, a community of 167 families that relied on the fishing industry for its survival. Following the tsunami, the survivors found themselves with their fleet completely destroyed, their homes razed to the ground, and little left but the rubble of their beloved home.
Not only were they grieving their lost loved ones, they were fighting for their future.
Better than it was before
The Â鶹Éç¹ú²úHumanity Village project had a simple mission—leave everything better than it was before. That was a tall order, considering the dire state of Wanduruppa.
Following a mid-January fundraiser that featured musicians, actors and youth choirs, spirits were high in Squamish. but time was of the essence. Organizers knew they needed to get boots on the ground as quickly as possible, so by the first week of February a four-person team climbed on a plane to see what they were dealing with firsthand.
Gordon and Dawson were joined by John DeSousa, a native Sri Lankan, and local Patricia Heintzman, who later became a District councillor and then Â鶹Éç¹ú²úmayor.
“Sri Lanka was in the midst of a brutal civil war at that time, but hostilities subsided after the disaster. We saw firsthand where many had died. Images seared in our minds. We set out for our little village, but reaching it was a challenge because the roads and bridges were so damaged and in poor shape,” said Gordon.
“Upon reaching Wanduruppa we scoped the damage and commenced putting a work plan together to rebuild.”
They prioritized hiring locals for the reconstruction work, since most of the community was now unemployed due to the destruction of the fishing industry.
“We built homes, but we quickly learned they cook outside with dried leaves for cooking heat, and that creates smoke. We had to construct outdoor kitchens that were attached but covered,” he said.
“The school was heavily damaged, so we repaired it. It had no library, no washroom, no computer room and the sanitary conditions were appalling, so we got to work on making sure the repair included additions while people were sending books and we assembled computers.”
When they started work on the hospital, the staff at Â鶹Éç¹ú²úHospital bound together with a needed equipment list and helped stock it up.
“We felt we left the place looking really good, and we were completed and out before all the major NGOs arrived.”
Creating a sustainable future
They were doing their job a little too well.
Using their unique relationships within Sri Lanka, the project was making significant progress in Wanduruppa while other nearby communities were still sifting through the wreckage. Touring the country, Heintzman remembers seeing metal wrapped around trees, train tracks twisted into a spaghetti mess of steel, and mangrove areas wiped out.
“Ironically, we were doing such a good job that the Sri Lankan government said we can’t do it that way anymore. They wanted us to give them the money because other communities were not rebounding as well. We didn’t want to give the money to them, which led to us not following through on other things,” she said.
She’d seen firsthand how other groups’ approaches to providing aid were falling short, primarily because they weren’t taking into account the particular realities of living as a fisherman.
“One thing we learned from chatting with the fishermen is they were building apartments five kilometres from the coast to try to move these families away from danger. They told us there was no way anyone would live there because no fisherman will sleep five kilometres from their boat,” she said.
And though organizations like Red Cross were doing crucial work, she feels the size of their operation negated their ability to meet people where they were.
“We need to rethink how we do things. Our go-to is these large entities which do amazing work, but they’re huge corporations themselves and that comes with baggage. We did things a little differently and we all thought, at the time, this is a great model for how to do this type of global assistance.”
Looking back
They’ve fallen out of touch.
For the first few years since they spearheaded the reconstruction of Wanduruppa., the Â鶹Éç¹ú²úHumanity Village team received regular photo updates on how things were progressing. But eventually, the emails and phone calls petered out, and everyone went back to their lives. Only the older generations have any memory of a Canadian town coming to help.
For Heintzman, it was never about getting recognition—it was about making a positive impact.
“I don’t need kudos. Something like this isn’t one person, it isn’t 20 people. It’s called the Humanity Village project because it takes a village,” she said.
“Our community back in 2004, it was challenged by shifting economics and demographics, and this was a galvanizing moment. The town came together and was quite proud of what we accomplished.”
Every Christmas, both Gordon and Heintzman find themselves reflecting on the amazing story that unfolded two decades ago. To them, it’s incredible to think that perfect strangers received proper health care, education and housing because of the community's efforts. And even if they haven’t visited recently, they trust their reconstruction efforts are still having positive knock-on effects.
Gordon likes to think about the children he met and where they might be now.
“Twenty years later, those cute, adorable little pre-schoolers that crowded us and hugged our knees until we almost tripped over are now adults. The little ones know how to bring out the smiles and laughter in the midst of such tragedy. It somehow feels good to know that we all made a difference in their lives.”