Agency offers healing from tsunami’s emotional damage
Posted: 8/19/05
| Marla Rushings visits with one of CERI's initial foster famlies in Batticaloa, Sri Lanka. (Photos by Craig Bird) |
Agency offers healing from
tsunami's emotional damage
By Craig Bird
Baptist Child & Family Services
As staggering as the visible destruction from last December's tsunami still is in Sri Lanka, the hidden emotional damage–especially to children–probably is even worse, Baptist Child & Family Services officials insist.
Eight months after the killer waves shattered the country, the evidence is plain to those who know where to look and listen.
In Matara, schoolteachers have moved all classes to the upper floor because frightened children refuse to meet in the ground-level rooms.
In Hikkaduwa, a college student confesses to massive guilt because he heard a friend's father calling for help but was too afraid to try to rescue him.
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| A displaced child living in a tent in Galle, Sri Lanka. |
In Galle, against all cultural norms, a man stands in the middle of a tent-camp and weeps uncontrollably in front of visitors because he has almost no food and almost no hope.
In Batticaloa, a 13-year-old boy who lost his entire family and was twice swept out to sea himself–surviving by clinging to a large piece of Styrofoam–draws pictures of body parts floating alongside crowded boats.
Also in Batticaloa a 5-year-old girl still hasn't been told her mother drowned last December. She thinks she has “gone away on vacation.”
That's why Baptist Child & Family Services and its international arm, Children's Emergency Relief International, has launched two separate-but-related projects in the Indian Ocean island country.
The agency's primary effort is establishing a permanent foster care/child protective services program for the Sri Lankan government. The second is a training program to equip Sri Lankan volunteers to provide mental health counseling to their family, friends and neighbors.
“Before the tsunami, there was not really a pressing need for a foster-care program because the extended family usually took over the care of orphaned children,” said Marla Rushing of Baptist Child & Family Services, one of two agency staff members who led a nine-person counseling and training team to Sri Lanka for two weeks in July.
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| A worst memory drawing from the tsunami shows survivors in boats and dead bodies floating in the ocean. |
“But the government has identified 500 orphans in just the northeast province country alone. We were a little surprised when they asked us to set up this pilot program–and so were agencies like UNICEF and the Red Cross–but we are glad we are able to do this.”
After carefully drafting guidelines and procedures that combined the best of American child care practices with the cultural realities of Sri Lanka, the program began working with the first four foster families in early July. Currently, 30 children are in supervised care, “with about five being added every week–we already need to hire more staff,” Rushing said.
Rushing, along with volunteer Lari Ainsworth from Calallen Baptist Church in Corpus Christi, concentrated on working with the children in care and in training the foster parents. Sri Lankan society has a general attitude toward tragedy of “just get over it,” and “the concept of counseling is pretty much unknown,” she acknowledged. “We were warned people wouldn't want to talk about their feelings, especially to foreigners. But we found that once a trust level was established, they had lots of things to share.”
She particularly was impressed with one foster father who not only participated in the art therapy sessions designed to surface the negative emotions and remind the drawer of the hope for “safe places” in the future, but also was the most enthusiastic person in the group.
“He told me that before the tsunami he had hated Christians. He wouldn't even speak to them. But since Christians were the first people to come and offer help and since we are still here, 'not asking anything from us, not forcing us to change our beliefs–just helping,' he had learned to appreciate Christians,” Rushing said.
Sri Lanka also is overwhelmingly Buddhist and Hindu, “two religions that are pretty fatalistic in saying that whatever happens is either punishment of just destiny,” noted Richard Brake, the staff psychologist on the Baptist Child & Family Services trip. “Even the Muslim population holds teachings that everything is Allah's will and should be accepted–so to get them to see that it was still OK to talk about emotions is major progress.”
Three two-women teams, all connected to Texas Woman's University in Denton, conducted training sessions in three coastal towns as part of the child care agency's effort. Brake worked with all three teams, as well as with the foster families, primarily using art therapy developed by Bill Steele of the Trauma Loss Center for Children in Detroit.
The five-step process begins with asking participants to draw a picture of their worst experiences, followed by a detailed drawing of the event and then an illustration of “what part of your body hurts the worst when you think about this event” before asking for a drawing of “a safe and secure place,” Brake explained. The final exercise is filling in eight sections of a piece of paper–putting the “worst event” in the first section but then listing seven good things that have happened since.
“The purpose is to acknowledge the pain of the trauma and to begin dealing with it–but then to help them see that there really is hope and that the pain isn't permanent, no matter how deep and real it is,” Brake said. He also found that the fourth step, picturing a safe place, didn't follow the textbook pattern.
“Eight months after the fact, most of the 150 people we worked with couldn't really imagine a safe place–a good sign that they hadn't dealt with the emotions,” Brake explained. “So we had them imagine a time in the future–no matter how far out that might be–when they could be in a safe place. That seemed to work.”
The training group in the northeast province was exclusively Hindu, while the three groups on the west coast were a mixture of Buddhists and Christians.
The trainers were heartened that, by the end of the sessions, the two often-antagonistic groups were planning how to work together to counsel others.
Each team also reported that trainees repeatedly requested additional training.
“They were so grateful and open to learning,” said Barb Cheatham, a registered nurse from Plano and a graduate student at TWU. “I prayed every morning that God would be present in the training and prayed every night to thank him for doing just that. Realizing how all these trainees will go back to their villages and towns and neighborhoods and work with others is humbling.
“They certainly are not fully qualified counselors, but they have some basics now. And imagine the ripple effect as they work with others who work with others.”


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