My father, Frederik Jurriaanse, following retirement from teaching at Ridgewaye School and Huntleys School in Tunbridge Wells had moved to his paradise, Phi Phi Island, 14 years before to live with the peace loving Thais.
Shocked, I raced to my mobile and checked my texts, which is how we communicate every day. Sure enough, I’d received one from him which read: “Alive on unknown island. Bad things in Thailand.” A phone call to him confirmed that he had been on a boat from Phi Phi to the island of Phuket when the tsunami struck which saved his life. The boat had received a radio warning, quickly docked and all passengers were at the top of a hill clinging to trees waiting for the next wave. He begged me to find out what had happened to Phi Phi.
Together with the rest of the world, I turned on the TV, searched the internet and watched with horror the devastation the tsunami had left unfold. Phi Phi Island had suffered particularly huge casualties because the main town, market, school, hospital and port were all situated on a thin strip of land and it was battered from both sides by the ruthless tsunami. All I could tell my father was that it was bad, and he had to wait at the top of the hill not knowing if his friends were alive or dead. Then I spoke to BBC Radio Kent, and once my father was allowed to return to the devastation in Phuket, our newsroom kept up-to-date with him and the awful situation in Phuket.
The death toll was huge with casualties not only from the Thais but also English, Swedish, Dutch. Dad’s help, as he speaks Thai, English and Dutch, was invaluable. He counselled, he organised, he translated, whatever was put to him. But the memory of New Year’s Eve 2004 still keeps him awake at night. He helped pack ice around the thousands of bodies to try and preserve them just a little longer before they were photographed for identification. In that heat and humidity, the grim fact is that they didn’t keep their features for long. But what of Dad’s beloved Phi Phi? When he was eventually allowed to return he was met with the full extent of the atrocities. Friends never to be found, buildings disappeared for ever, bodies so decomposed they couldn’t be recognised, passports fluttering in the wind. And the stench….. Dad’s soul was destroyed and heart broken. Eight hundred bodies were identified but the number of missing is almost 2000. Back in Kent and the rest of the world, we were all pumping money into the General Disaster Fund. But bit by bit, family and friends were calling my sister and I with the same message: “We want to help, we want to help Frederik, we want to help Phi Phi.”
Dad grabbed the idea gratefully with both hands and the seed of Phi Phi AID was born. In the New Year he returned to the UK to recover and plan. I met Dad at Heathrow a broken man, yet full of hope. We quickly arranged a meeting with people keen to become members of Phi Phi AID and vowed that our mission would be to help those affected by the tsunami in Phi Phi, help themselves to rebuild their lives. We were amazed as more and more individuals and organisations raised money for Phi Phi AID particularly from Kent. Some just gave lump sums from their pockets others organised ingenious ways of generating funds. But when the schools started a staggering amount was created. Highworth Grammar School in Ashford did ‘a bring and buy sale’ of unwanted Christmas gifts, St Michaels did a sponsored hush and a dizzy disco for the reception class. Kent College, Tunbridge Wells Grammar School for Boys, Sacred Heart School and many others all arranged ways of making vast quantities of money.
My father was asked to go around and speak to the children and some emptied their pockets of sweet money. Then he appeared on BBC South East and people he hadn’t heard from for decades, including ex-pupils responded. The extent was staggering and touching. We made a second vow - Phi Phi AID would never forget any donor and they would always be kept up-to-date with regular newsletters explaining exactly how their money is being spent. The next job was to spend the money and it wasn’t a matter of just handing over cash. We wanted to make sure that the money would fund specific projects. For example, Phi Phi Island was uninhabitable for along time. But the adults had to travel there daily to clear up the mess and reconstruct. They had to leave their elderly and children in the refugee camp in Krabi. Phi Phi AID helped fund it. They bought a boat for ‘Duan’ so he could taxi tourists and earn a living again; a gas cooker, wok and dishes for ‘Khun Lee’ so she can sell her meals again; life jackets for ‘Khun Sommai Boonsop’s’ taxi boat; a washing machine for the Phi Phi youth football club (for their kit!); the list is endless. Many donors expressed a special interest in helping the school, and as it had been in the direct line of the wave, much help has been needed. Amongst other things, the charity has provided their PE kit, fans, labour for building the new kitchens and toilet blocks, and recently, St Michaels School have made a great effort to raise enough funds for a bicycle shed. It was assumed that after people had made their initial donation, that would be it. But good nature was such that money is still pouring in. Thus, Phi Phi AID has been able to continue achieving its mission almost two years after that fateful day, Time to see it for myself? I think so. Last August, I arrived with my daughters by the ferryboat into Phi Phi port. The first thing that hit me was the huge gaping hole where the main market had been; apart from a few surviving tall palm trees I could see through to the other side of the island.
Evidently, nothing here stood a chance against the tsunami. But I quickly moved my attention to the hordes of smiles that greeted us, all so keen to thank us for our part in putting their lives back on track. The sight was heart warming. No wonder they call Thailand “The Land of Smiles”. Over the next few days, everyone wanted to meet us and show us how they were doing and everyone was smiling. What an amazing feat to have gone through such horrors and yet hold your head up high and smile. We saw new kitchens, life jackets, cooking equipment, building - you name it, Phi Phi AID had done it, and believe me it hasn’t been taken for granted. Our highlight was a visit to the Baan Ko Phi Phi School situated on the beach. Thankfully, on the day of the tsunami, the school was closed, but still, nine of its pupils were killed and many of their relatives. The school was closed for nearly a year.
I was struck by the happy and relaxed nature of all the pupils and staff. The headmaster Kuhn Wirawat told us that the school could not have coped with out the help they had received - he was so pleased to see us. “I want to show the world that we are reopening again and we are keen and happy people. Thank you very much.” After a tour of the school, the teachers showed us their new evacuation route into the mountains should, God forbid, there be another tsunami. We joined them on a drill and the children were proud to complete it in three minutes. It was a sombre moment and some cried and asked for their parents as they remembered the day they lost their families. Our trip to Phi Phi was an emotional experience. A nation of people ripped apart by a natural disaster and yet so positive and cheerful; the compassion of people from across the world reaching out to help.
One thing I noticed however, was that not one person mentioned the actual day. The children though, have written and drawn about their experiences in a book. Some of their recounts are truly disturbing. And the future of Phi Phi AID? As long as the money keeps coming in, projects will still be supported. Eventually there will be no more buildings to repair or boats to buy, but the orphans will live on, and they will need help for many years to come … | 
