Supporter: Amy Ellingson

Mira Saheem has a hot and dusty commute. I can vouch for that because last week, I endeavored to join him on his rounds.

He was hawking fresh fish to the residents of Kinniya, a remote town on the coast of Sri Lanka with about 15,000 families. Mira has lived here his whole life, selling fish for almost half of that time.

He started in his twenties, learning the trade from his father before him. Mira's father taught him two secrets to being a successful fishmonger:

1. A quick morning spent racing the sun and other meat hawkers canvassing the neighborhood
2. Establishing loyal customers by providing quality fish and cleaning services at a rate that beats market price

If the catch is good and the supply of competitive meat scarce, a fishmonger may only have to work two hours of the day before pursuing other interests, like fishing. "Or attending mosque," Mira adds with a guilty smile.

Mira has seven children. All of his family survived, but nearly two months after the tsunami hit Kinniya, Mira was still out of a job and a house. The tsunami's destruction was so fast and so complete that, for most residents of the sea town, life since has been a waking nightmare.

It does not take much imagination to see why recuperation has come slowly; as we biked down one of Kinniya's busiest streets, we passed the ghostly skeleton of the regional hospital. Once a building of pride for the community, it's now a deserted, rusting heap of rubble and hospital equipment that sits there untouched.

Five months ago, when Mira was approached by a local non-governmental organization (NGO) called EFFORD and asked if he would be willing to participate in a livelihoods project directed at fishmongers, he took the bait without hesitation. Mira entered into a contract that provided him all the necessary equipment of his former trade: a bicycle, fish box, gutting knife, scale and weights.

For extra measure, and because EFFORD knows its fish trade well, a wide-brimmed hat and dark-tinged shirt were provided as a suitable uniform for men who sometimes peddle nearly twenty pounds of fish for miles in the hot, tropical sun - often gutting the sale as they go. In return for his equipment, Mira pledged to return to work, and reinvest a portion of his profit into a common fund for other fishmongers to rely on when equipment fails or a family member falls ill.

Although the industry still faces a number of hazards like low catches and a high level of competition, Mira doesn't hesitate to thank Mercy Corps for funding EFFORD's project.

"Now, I can live without debt. I was able to restart my business and provide for my family without taking a loan. I am so grateful to Mercy Corps for the advantage this has given me," he says.

As he leans back over his scaly produce, his latest customer chimes in, "And now my family and I can eat fish 3-4 times a week, delivered to our door for less than market price!"

It wasn't long until I succumbed to the heat and dust and waved Mira on ahead of me, throatily pronouncing his wares. "Ora…Seela…Kiyame," his voice rolling like the tide down main street.

Empowered and convincing, Mira is calling Kinniya back to life.

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The morning cool was just burning off as we bundled into the van. The vehicle was already packed full of paint, rope, and various hand tools that by the end of the day would help create a playground for over 60 children who live at the Komari camp for tsunami-displaced families.

Every seat occupied, sometimes twice-over, we traveled north with nearly all 11 co-workers from Mercy Corps field office in Pottuvil, Sri Lanka. Today, even the finance and administrative staff were going to get their hands dirty.

Our objective was to create a colorful play space from a dusty, flat field using nearly all local resources acquired by the community itself. Items such as palm tree trunks, beach sand, coconut husks, old bicycle wheels and tin cans were our inspiration. Leading the charge was Viji Krishnamoorthy, Mercy Corps’ Program Manager who has a soft spot for such projects. Recently, Krishnamoorthy helped co-publish a book that details a variety of ways to transform Sri Lanka’s everyday resources into a play haven for youngsters.

All over Sri Lanka, children’s parks are a vital and much-loved source of community activity. When quizzing my co-workers about the importance of creating a space for children to come socialize and vent their energy, all of them remembered fondly their own neighborhood parks. “I wanted to go every day, but my mother would only take me once a week. I looked forward to that day all week,” said Banu, Mercy Corps’ secretary.

After the tsunami leveled the town of Komari, children have had only nightmares and a strange, new daily reality to occupy their thoughts. Recently schools have reopened, and a church has organized a couple of youth events, but the lack of a community playground has been a noticeable void.

"This park will help replace bad memories of tsunami or lost parents with new friends and good health,” said Azmeth, a Mercy Corps Project Officer.

One local father who helped assemble the park over the course of the long, hot day rejoiced in a project that provided a “specific place for the children to play and have fun, not only for my family, but the whole community.”

At last, as the hot sun started its downward spiral, the finishing touches were put on the brand-new play equipment – not a moment too soon as the crowds of eager youth descended. Each section of the playground was monitored by a Mercy Corps staff or volunteer community member, explaining the rules to the particular game and doling out prizes to the participants.

It was mayhem in the best sense. Crowd favorites included a balance beam, a ball and hoop toss. one-handed pillow fight and the tree ladder race. Two cousins, Janosa and Sangeetha, ages 11 and 10 were ecstatic, raving that this was the “best park we’ve ever been to.” Ten year-old Kinaharan agrees, saying that he especially loves the tree swing and can’t wait to come back.

As dusk was settling into darkness, the final game was announced: the universal favorite, Tug Rope. After a close call between the women and girls of Komari camp and Mercy Corps women, it was time for the men to square off. This match-up pitted a group of burly men, seasoned from building over 100 shelters over the past few weeks, against a handful of relatively scrawny aid workers. I’ll admit that my bets were cast early on.

Incredibly, when the tugging stopped, it was the Mercy Corps men who won the day. Laughing, Viji might have put it best: “Heart triumphs over brawn anytime.”

It was an exhausting and exhilarating time for everyone, aid workers and displaced families alike. As we all dissipated into the gathering night, we couldn’t wipe the grins off our faces, and you could hear laughter spread throughout the camp.

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Over the last three months, Mercy Corps has partnered with Singer Sewing Machine Company to help Sri Lankan seamstresses revive their businesses.

In that time, more than 500 machines in the Trincomalee area have been repaired by three Singer certified technicians from neighboring districts. Mercy Corps is covering the costs and parts for repairs and advertisement.

The goal of this project is to salvage machines affected by the tsunami that otherwise would just be thrown away. These machines can then be given to local women whose sole marketable skill is sewing.

This project is one of many that are empowering women, generating income for families and strengthening local economies in this part of Sri Lanka. Tanga, Mercy Corps Sri Lanka's project officer in the area, recently described the project.

Interview with Tanga

I first came to the idea after noticing a number of machines were just being abandoned after the tsunami. My family's house was swamped by the water, eight feet high, and my wife’s machine was ruined – but she was able to get the repair man to come to the house and fix it.

Trouble was, there was only one repair man in Trincomalee town, and hundreds of machines needing repair after the wave. When I first visited his shop, I could barely fit into the room there were machines of all kinds stacked to the roof awaiting repair. At this time, people were just giving up and throwing away their machines.

So I went to Singer with an idea to ask for additional technical support to come to Trincomalee town to meet the high demand for repairs. They agreed to send three repairmen, as long as Mercy Corps covered the costs for spare parts, labor and advertising.

When the shop was ready to open, we distributed flyers in Singhala and Tamil all over town and posted a large sign over the door explaining that the shop would repair all sewing machines damaged by the tsunami. In the first month, the shop received 147 machines and repaired 78.

There have been a few lessons we’ve learned along the way. Initially, we were estimating the repairs for each machine to be between 500-2,000 rupees ($5-$20) – however, we were not counting on the saltwater damage to the tables as well. The tables are especially crucial to the operation of the foot-pedaled machines that are so prevalent in Sri Lanka.

After considering replacement of the tables, machine repairs are totaling almost 7,000 rupees ($70). Still, a brand new machine costs about 14,000 rupees ($140), so the cost of repairing a damaged machine is still half that of buying a new one. Plus it saves the cost of disposal, which has been an enormous problem all along the coast after the tsunami.

Overall, people are happy to have something fixed that they thought lost. I have been really pleased with the skill and dedication of the technicians, and our recipients have been amazed by the transformation of their machines in a relatively short time.

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The big day is finally here.

Mercy Corps and Sri Lanka's Arugam Bay Tourism Association leadership are all abuzz with plans for this evening’s "Lights of Hope" ceremony. The event has been two weeks in the making, ever since the Arugam Bay Tourism Association asked Mercy Corps to help re-establish the Bay’s famous colorful nightscape in the aftermath of December's devastating tsunami.

One hundred strands of colored lights have graced the town’s restaurants and hotels lining the main street - its only street. A technician has assured that all strands are wired for success when the signal is given. Up and down the street, the word is spreading – don’t turn on your lights until you get the sign – fireworks!

Since it was announced, this ceremony has developed into a symbolic milestone for the small beach town. In the years since 2001's historic ceasefire, Arugam Bay’s reputation as a tourist destination has steadily grown, particularly amongst surfers. In fact, last June, Arugam Bay hosted Sri Lanka’s first-ever international surf competition. A local resident won the title, which made townspeople very proud.

December's tsunami decimated the town and destroyed much of the tourist infrastructure - but didn't destroy the hopes and resolve of Arugam Bay's residents.

These days, everyone involved with a restaurant, hotel, gift shop or other tourist venture is determined to be ready to welcome the tourists back to Arugam Bay for another successful season. Considering that there are over 100 family businesses represented by the Tourism Association in a town of 3,500, you can see that this is truly a community-wide effort.

To honor their efforts and celebrate their achievements thus far, Mercy Corps and the officers of the Tourism Association planned a ceremony that would acknowledge the metaphysical hurdles that Arugam Bay business owners have overcome. “We thought of giving light to the hearts of the community,” said Nowshan, Vice-President of the Tourism Association.

There were five speakers initially invited to share their brief thoughts on the progress of Arugam Bay. But somehow five was not enough, and it seemed that everyone had something to add once the microphone was live.

After the ceremony, when I asked Nowshan who his favorite speaker had been, he thought long and hard before settling on the government representative of the area who had been largely disengaged from the community until very recently. This officer had been surprised by the progress that the Tourism Association had achieved with the help of Mercy Corps, and made a point of congratulating the village on its self-initiative and social concern.

Another speaker pointed out that out of all the non-governmental organizations (NGOs) who came, nobody but Mercy Corps stayed with the people and got to know the community from the inside. “We are very proud of this collaboration with Mercy Corps, an organization that helps even the deep sea fishermen, those who are the lowest and poorest," he said. "Mercy Corps is helping us all get back to work.”

When asked what he took away from the ceremony, Nowshan told me that from the Tourism Association’s point of view, “it meant a lot that Mercy Corps, our funder, really knows our situation and what we are going through, and cares enough to host an event such as this to celebrate our achievements with us.”

Despite my outsider’s hesitancy about a ceremony titled "Lights of Hope", I couldn’t help but get caught up in the moment – especially when the firework signal exploded into a hundred streaks of silvery light reaching for the moon.

Walking through town that night, with all the colored lights blinking, I laughed with the residents of Arugam Bay as we relished the hope for an even better tomorrow.

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Stories are often written about an individual who has come into contact with Mercy Corps for various, very important reasons. Whether it's in the aftermath of a hurricane, earthquake, war or drought, there are certainly countless people who have, at one point or another, benefited from a chance encounter with Mercy Corps.

Sometimes that contact is brief: a number of months spent building a road or repairing a well. Sometimes it is more substantial: mothers and children spending over a year learning preventative family health and getting vaccinations, or entrepreneurs taking out low-interest loans and attending business development seminars. Ultimately, though, those with the most extensive contact with Mercy Corps are undoubtedly the least featured: Mercy Corps national staff.

I had the good fortune to spend five weeks traveling and working in Eritrea, East Africa. In my travels I was introduced to a number of Mercy Corps beneficiaries, whose stories I am very happy to relay. But I want to add another layer to the typical beneficiary testimony; I want to include the observations and lessons I gathered from my guides in Eritrea, my interpreters and my companions. As these people formed the lens through which I glimpsed Eritrea, they must also frame the stories that come from there.

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