Most of us understand the magnitude of the tsunami, and explanations of how it happened and what damage it caused have been thoroughly documented. No amount of information, however, can replace the horror of actually having experienced the wave. On December 26, 2004, generated by an under-the-sea earthquake, a massive wave traveled at over 600 km/hour, reaching a height of 10 meters or more, devastating coastlines around the Indian Ocean. Numbers conflict but it is estimated that almost 40,000 Sri Lankans died in the wake of the tsunami, which some have called a "20-minute war." More than 30,000 sustained injuries, and another 400,000 were displaced. People continue to die from tsunami-related injuries and disease, even now, four months after the wave.

I arrived in Sri Lanka in the early hours of the morning on February 24, the day after the Buddhist holiday, Poya, the monthly full-moon celebration. With the Poya moon still shining, I made my way into the city of Colombo, as "It's a Small World" played each time the taxi reversed. The driver took me to a neighborhood called Cinnamon Gardens, to a dignified older home built in the grand colonial style with high ceilings and big, gently swirling fans where I would be staying. Frangipani graced the verandah entrance. It felt like traveling back in time—to a more serene era. I had come to investigate and observe the tsunami recovery efforts of this tiny island country.

The tsunami generated worldwide interest—and funding. Today, the world is moving on to create—and subsequently address—other calamities. In an all but forgotten post-tsunami Sri Lanka, relief efforts are tragically hampered by an ongoing conflict that predates the tsunami. Since 1983, Sri Lanka's Northern and Eastern provinces have been the center of ethnic fighting between the Sinhalese-dominated Sri Lankan Government and the separatist movement, led by the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). Although the situation is complex, the violence is a response to ethnic imbalances in the country between Tamil and Sinhalese. In February 2002, a cease-fire agreement was signed, marking the end of a conflict that has claimed 65,000 lives and displaced an estimated 1,000,000 people.

According to the Sri Lankan Democracy Forum (SLDF), a global network of activists committed to promote democratization and inter-ethnic co-existence in Sri Lanka, "In the days immediately preceding the Tsunami disaster, tensions between the LTTE and the Sri Lankan government were high. The recruitment of child soldiers and adult fighters by the LTTE was escalating in preparation, the LTTE said, for the possibility of war. The Sri Lankan military had expanded its arsenal and increased recruitment of troops during the cease-fire. International humanitarian organizations working in Sri Lanka expressed public alarm that the spiraling political violence in the country's North and East was threatening relief and development, rule of law, diversity, freedom of expression, and pluralism."

Today, a link has been established between ethnic tensions and the wave. An open letter posted on the Internet by Ranjit and Marcia Seneviratne, Sri Lankan civilians living in Italy, expressed the widespread sentiment that the tragedy brought previously rival groups together: "The nation is enduring a grief that even the civil war that has plagued this land for so long has not generated. Perhaps it is because the waves were no respecter of religion, race, caste or gender, that all have suffered."

Yet, the general perception is that while the people unite to rebuild their lives, the government continues to be divisive and distributes—or withholds—aid along ethnic lines. People fear that the ongoing tensions between the Sri Lankan Army and the LTTE could provide a threat to relief and reconstruction operations. The LTTE issued a declaration that they would not interfere with such operations; however, government inaction could lead to a breakdown in the fragile peace.

On January 8, SLDF reported, "The Tamil press and certain parliamentarians have accused the Sri Lankan government of discrimination in the delivery of relief—showing preference for the Sinhala south over Tamil areas. While the shortages in the North and East have been serious, there have also been repeated allegations that LTTE cadres have inhibited the delivery of assistance—setting fire to a camp housing persons displaced by the tsunami after the people accepted assistance from the army, intercepting trucks carrying relief supplies, refusing unfettered government or international access to areas under its control, and preventing independent NGOs from operating."

On April 8, SLDF released a press release that stated, "The climate of violence and fear in eastern Sri Lanka continues to deepen, exacerbating the trauma of tsunami survivors and impeding reconstruction efforts. Political killings are escalating at a time when immediate and urgent reconstruction is required. At the same time, the LTTE is engaging in violent provocations of the Sri Lankan security forces, actions that appear aimed at a resumption of war." Stressing that war would "destroy all gains made in the post-tsunami reconstruction effort," SLDF urged the international community to demand, "the Sri Lankan government and the LTTE to declare an immediate, long-term moratorium on fighting as an urgent first step towards ensuring a much-violated cease-fire agreement."

Prior to the tsunami, the World Food Program (WFP) aid organization was serving 215,000 people in conflict-affected areas such as Jafna and other regions in the North. Since the cease-fire of 2002, the program has evolved from relief to recovery. Just before the tsunami hit, WFP was preparing for a workshop to assess gender needs in the country. However, after December 26, priorities changed. Within two days, WFP was able to mobilize and take food to camps using existing in-country food stock.

According to their spokesperson, Selvi Sachithanandam, whose job pre-tsunami was to provide information to WFP regarding their programs in conflict-afflicted areas, WFP was the first organization to reach affected people. But when they arrived, they noticed that the camps were already being supported by the communities. Individuals had taken initiative and were providing hot meals, and where possible, shelter. Sachithanandam witnessed Sinhalese families cooking for Tamil camps. It seemed that the tsunami had bridged the ethnic divide. "The immediate response was overwhelming, very positive," said Sachithanandam. "Not just Sri Lankans but foreigners who live here, or were stuck here."

In the immediate days following the tsunami, people were well-fed and food stocks were high. Today, supplies—along with international interest—are dwindling. Only WFP continues to supply food to affected people, and it plans to continue feeding 850,000 people in Sri Lanka for the next six months.

Two months to the day since the tsunami hit, we began our journey to Galle, in the South, eating fish cakes from a local bakery. Galle, the hardest hit province, had once been a Dutch fort and was very famous for its breads and lace. It was also a popular tourist destination. Was. The disaster took place on a Poya day and Sri Lankans were on holiday, many enjoying time by the sea and with their families. The bumper sticker on our car from the Last Elephant Trust Fund said, "Ignore it and it will go away forever." Just as true for world tragedies as it is for elephants, I thought, as we passed Hikkaduwa, usually filled with flip-flopped backpackers, and now littered with "Rooms to Let" signs.

A stale odor, like that of an old abandoned cellar, permeated the air. "Can you smell that?" my guide suddenly asked. "It's the dead bodies."

The media has covered every aspect of the tsunami: Relief efforts, plans for reconstruction to sustain long-term resettlement in the wake of the devastation, its effect on tourism and the environment, underwater villages that were revealed, even its effect on animals was brought to the public eye. However, the effects of the wave on women have received little or no attention.

According to a report released by the Oxfam International aid agency, up to four times as many women were killed as men in some areas. Specifically, in Sri Lanka, it is reported that surveys of survivor's camp show "a serious imbalance between the number of men and women killed."

Stated reasons for this imbalance in gender-related deaths include, "women staying behind to look for their children [whom they were often looking after when the wave hit] and women being less likely to know how to swim or climb palm trees. In Aceh, Indonesia, women have a high level of participation in the labor force, but the wave struck on a Sunday when they were at home and the men were out running errands, or were out at sea [where the waves were less ferocious] or working in the fields. Women in India were close to the shore, waiting for the fishermen to come in with their catch. In Sri Lanka, in Batticoloa District, the tsunami hit it at the hour when women on the East Coast usually take their baths in the sea." In Galle, women could not hold onto trees, their hair and saris were caught in debris as they were swept up by the wave and sucked in.

"The tsunami has dealt a crushing blow to women and men across the region," said Becky Buell, Oxfam's Policy Director. "In some villages it now appears that up to 80 percent of those killed were women. This disproportionate impact will lead to problems for years to come unless everyone working on the aid effort addresses the issue now. We are already hearing about rapes, harassment, and forced early marriages. We all need to wake up to this issue and ensure the protection, inclusion, and empowerment of the women that have survived."

Female tsunami survivors are struggling to put their lives back together and working to support their communities. Women's burdens have increased as they are traditionally the caretakers of the sick and injured. Many have been left without home and income. Even those whose houses remained intact are in need of support.

Puthrika Moonesinghe works with women through the Beulah Moonesinghe Trust Fund, set up to support training in vocational skills and to help promote small businesses run by women. She explained that the poorest might not necessarily be the worst off in this case because they lived in uncertainty before the tsunami. Those that suffer most today are women—and men—who had their own businesses and were becoming self-sufficient. These people have lost their livelihoods. "It's an interesting scenario," said Moonesinghe. "We as humans need to see visible evidence of destruction to believe that people need help." One community of lace-makers in Galle had most of their houses spared by the tsunami but incurred other losses that were left unnoticed. Lace workshops were wiped clean of their machines and materials. Fishing boats were destroyed. The people of this community hung a banner on the main road for passersby to see: "WHY HAVE YOU IGNORED US?"

Seela Ebert, Executive Director of Agromart, a leading indigenous non-governmental organization, explained, "When we came to the women, we thought we would help them with housing first. But they said no, they wanted their enterprises first. 'Otherwise we would be beggars. We refuse to be beggars,' they told us. The women did not want to depend on other people."

Agromart is working to empower rural communities, particularly women, through entrepreneurship and developing strategies to reduce poverty and dependence. The organization has worked since 1989 empowering women to participate in socio-economic and political processes. Agromart trains women—and now tsunami-affected women—in skills development to foster sustainable businesses. This is what women are asking for, not houses or clothes.

Ebert told the story of Priyanga Wijeweera, an Agromart member who learned to make yogurt and sold it in the market. With her income, she bought a boat for her husband to enable him to start his own fishing business. Just before it was to be launched for the first time, the tsunami hit, destroying the boat. It was the first thing she had bought with her own income. Agromart helped her to rebuild the boat. Priyanga's house was also washed away by the tsunami. She now lives in a camp and is using her yogurt to feed people in the camp.

"The Agromart approach to me is ideal," said Gretchen Bloom, an independent consultant, senior gender advisor and self-avowed long-time Argomart supporter. "First, the organization works with 75 percent women members and 25 percent men to avoid creating a big barrier and to win men over to women's causes. Second, the recipients of their assistance form societies, which gives them strength. Post-tsunami, the societies in unaffected areas helped other communities that had been affected. Third, Agromart conducted individual needs assessments of their affected members and responded specifically to get members back on their feet, earning an income. It was an empowerment approach rather than a welfare approach."

Moonesinghe elaborated that the majority of women are well educated in Sri Lanka and are able to hold governments and development organizations accountable when they fail to deliver. The literacy rate approaches 85 percent. Women in the country know what they want, but the problem is that they are not often asked. In this regard, rural women suffer more. "An empowered rural woman is perceived as a threat, not just by men but also by urban women," said Moonesinghe. "This has to do with class and social structure. The rural woman therefore has the bigger barrier to cross."

Some women's issues bridge the rural-urban divide—such as violence against women.

Myriad reports have been written about women's disproportionate suffering in Sri Lanka as a result of the ethnic conflict. Sri Lankan women have suffered rape, harassment, and many other abuses. The conflict produced female-headed households as many men were killed, leaving 40,000 war widows with little access to economic opportunity. Women and children are 80 percent of the internally displaced.

In light of these bleak statistics, the post-tsunami abuses of women have not been a welcome addition. Women's work has increased, as has their risk of sexual violence and abuse. The United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) stated in a recent report that "fear of sexual violence has been reported to limit women's and girls' mobility, for example, in search of new economic opportunities."

Reports issued by women's organizations in Sri Lanka cite "reports of incidents of rape, gang rape, molestation, and physical abuse of women and girls in the course of unsupervised rescue operations and while resident in temporary shelters, particularly in the South."

The Oxfam report examines other tsunami-related effects that have hit women particularly hard: "Women [are] experiencing verbal and physical harassment by men in camps and settlements and fearing sexual abuse in the packed resettlement sites; women [are] already being pressured into early marriages; women in particular are being hit by the loss of income and inability to access cash, with some women at risk of sexual exploitation and forms of dependency from which they will find it hard to recover."

Quoted in Femina Sri Lanka magazine, beautician and entrepreneur Janet Balasuriya said, "At a time when disaster has struck our nation, women and children are being assaulted and abused by the very people who are going to them under the pretext of help. It shocks me when I hear of children being kidnapped from relief camps and women being raped by relief workers. This is more terrible and traumatic than the natural disaster itself."

Sri Lankan women's groups have issued an appeal for an inclusive framework for disaster response "to ensure that those who have suffered...are not subjected to further violence and abuse. The Coalition for Assisting Tsunami Affected Women (CATAW) is comprised of over 60 women's groups in Sri Lanka who are advocating for the protection and empowerment of women in rehabilitation projects. CATAW research has confirmed allegations of rape and abuse, matching media reports of the same nature. CATAW elaborates: "Years of working with conflict and internal displacement have taught us that where law and order breaks down, where safety networks provided by family and community have disappeared, women become most vulnerable to a range of violations of their rights, including sexual and physical violence."

Despite reports calling for special protection of women in relief and rehabilitation, few changes have been made. There are no mechanisms in place to receive complaints or take action against perpetrators, and many women refuse to report abuses for fear of social stigmatization. CATAW is arguing for women's committees to be established in the camps and for women to be active in all levels of decision-making regarding relief and rehabilitation efforts. But the government has not demonstrated commitment to engaging neither women nor men.

And yet there are small successes. Moonesinghe's jewelry project, for instance. The workshop trains 25 young women in jewelry-making, traditionally a male domain. The women use gems and silver to make pendants, rings, and other items that are sold in the markets and shops of Colombo. In the face of the devastation that followed the tsunami, and despite the fact that the center had lost nearly all of its equipment, the women showed up for work just days after it struck. Most of the women had lost at least one family member from the tsunami. "The only way we could overcome our grief was to come to the center and clean it...to see if it had survived the wave," said 23-year-old worker Jayasekara.

Priyani, a lace-maker and trainer, showed me her home. "I lost everything except what I was wearing," she said. Having just returned from selling her lace in Colombo for Christmas, the wave washed away all her earnings from the sale, nearly 150,000 rupees (approximately $1,500). Scraps of lace could be found 50 meters past the house. The government has prohibited Priyani from rebuilding her home. "I still have my skill," she said. "The wave did not take that away. Better that it is a natural tsunami than a man-made tsunami that does this."

At Unawatuna Beach, we stopped to eat. The resort was empty, save for a few brave Germans. The beach was desolate. I took a walk and found a shell. Peddlers walked the beach, hoping for an obliging foreigner who would buy their wooden Nemo sculpture or beach wrap. Business was bad, they said.

We made the journey back to Colombo in silence. I was deeply moved by the women I had met. It was empowering and humbling, with so many contradictions. Not unlike Sri Lanka itself—a devastated paradise. We passed a funeral procession. A sheet was laid on the road before the procession and the coffin was draped in a white sheet. "Another tsunami victim," my guide said.

The president was not in Sri Lanka on December 26. She returned two days later and re-routed relief funding (channeled through the UN and the Sri Lankan National Disaster Management Center) to a centralized fund managed out of the president's office. The president's Center for National Operations was wrought with internal squabbling and has been criticized for being ineffective and reinforcing ethnic rivalries. People believed that a disproportionate share of funding was diverted to the South, while those in the North and East were neglected.

An example of a specific concern that many Sri Lankans are expressing, has to do with a newly-issued government decree stating that houses and structures cannot be rebuilt within the highly-contested so-called 100-meter "buffer zone." A recent editorial written by the editors of lines, an online magazine that addresses political issues in Sri Lanka, stated that many fear this signals support for a "precarious" tourism industry that comes at the expense of fishing communities dependent on their proximity to the sea. The government's actions, they say, stand to make "thousands of displaced vulnerable to being dispossessed of their land along the coast."

This fear was fueled when the government ramped up tourism efforts by playing host to celebrities through the Tourist Board's "Bounce Back" campaign. While tourist revenue is critical to the Sri Lankan economy, many Sri Lankans were indifferent to the influx of celebrity visits. A trip to a tsunami-affected part of the island diverts attention and resources from the rehabilitation effort. While this may undoubtedly generate new resources, people were still critical of the myriad famous-names donning a pair of construction boots for a few hours of high-profile touring, followed by refuge sought in one of the five-star hotels. Some feel such well-intended visits usually generate more positive publicity rather than aiding the "victims."

The editors of lines expressed their vision for post-tsunami rebuilding and reconciliation. They recommended "Democratic participation in planning and implementing reconstruction, economic justice in planning and reconstruction initiative, inclusion and pluralism in planning and implementing reconstruction initiatives, and peace building and demilitarization in planning and implementing reconstruction."

"As we try to come out of the double tragedies of war and the tsunami, civil society's dynamic and generous response to the needs of tsunami relief provide an opening for the demilitarization of public life and the promise that something positive can be reclaimed even from this bleakest of tragedies. Over the last month, stories of loss have been accompanied by stories of hope and inter-ethnic solidarity. More significantly even, against the odds of war and communalism, over the last 20 years the multi-ethnic region along the eastern coastline continued to sustain a fragile but resilient strand of commitment to inter-ethnic justice and pluralism. In honor of the dead then, let us make this moment of collective mourning also an opportunity to make a commitment to an ethos of pluralism, human security and democratization."