These days, it is tough to sustain one's interest in disaster. It is no one's fault, and it is not as if deep down inside we do not feel terrible for those afflicted. First comes the shock, and then the unmitigated horror as more bad news pours in. Questions - be they to God, to governments or perpetrators - and anger swiftly follow. And because I truly believe in the intrinsic capacity for compassion in human beings, I say that our need to give and to help also quickly sets in.
But this sequence of emotions and reactions, while on the one hand a wonderful display of mankind's magnanimity, is, on the other, predictable and, if I may venture to say, inadequate. This sequence of emotions is formulaic and has become expected in the immediate aftermath of disaster. In the year since the tsunami in southeast Asia, how many of us have kept up with the development of the reconstruction? Does anyone know what is going on in Pakistan post-earthquake?
I am not blaming anyone for his or her seeming inattention. The past year was marked by a succession of traumas, natural and otherise: the Asian tsunami, Hurri-cane Katrina, the Pakistan earthquake, the London subway bombings and the Jordan hotel bombings. And while all that was happening, genocide in Darfur further unfolded. Almost every day the papers reported death and destruction. But, as Franklin Roosevelt, regarded by many as the master player of American psyche, once observed, "Individual psychology cannot, because of human weakness, be attuned for long periods of time to a constant repetition of the highest note in the scale."
Roosevelt, bless his soul, was right. My empathy completely exhausted, I did not bat an eye when Jordan was bombed in November. I had tuned out.
It is easier to deal with the what, where and when of each disaster instead of mulling over the why and the how. I am sure I am not alone in this. Facing cold hard facts is much more manageable than searching for answers. This is our survival mechanism - how else would we deal with such overwhelming catastrophe?
The news of the initial impact, the number of lives lost and the first photographs of the devastation are inherently more interesting than stories of reconstruction. Fishing villages in Banda Aceh, the area worst hit by the tsunami, receive almost no government aid for rebuilding purposes. Despite the ineptitude of the Bush administration and FEMA in dealing with Hurricane Katrina, the people affected, as well as citizens of this country, know that large amounts of resources are being channeled toward restoring the cities to the way they once were. This is not the case for Indonesia. More than a year on, 70,000 people are still homeless, and their fishing industry remains in shambles. How ironic it is that we should be so captivated by death and yet so uncurious about the lives that continue to call out for help in death's wake. As hard as it is to admit, there is something more fascinating about an image of a huge wave wiping out everything in its path than that of a calm sea lapping against a flattened and abandoned shoreline.
My purpose is not to undermine the generosity displayed shortly after disasters. I applaud the many organizations on campus that have been organizing benefits and constantly canvassing the student body for our support towards their respective causes. Nor am I asking us all to take a semester off to help rebuild devastated economies. But how many of us have revisited the disasters in our minds, especially those far away from home, and how many of us have asked ourselves, "What else can I do?" All I am asking is that we do not forget.
Too often we are more than happy to give up the struggle against forgetting the sheer scale of death, destruction and unfairness in the world. This subconsciously leads to a lack of curiosity about the development (or the lack thereof) of afflicted nations, closing ourselves off from helping these people.
Compassion fatigue is natural and subliminal. But I am asking you to fight it and realize that just as you are on the verge of relegating images and figures of disaster to the distant past, the hardship for many of our fellow human beings, whether in the same country or in far-flung corners of the world, is just beginning. Most important of all, you still have the ability to help them. And I hope you hold that thought for as long as you can.
Lishan Soh '06 wants you to be in for the long haul. She also invites you to a traditional Indonesian night bazaar tomorrow evening in aid of the tsunami-devastated fishing industry in Banda Aceh at Sayles Hall from 6:30 to 9 p.m. Please visit www.tsunamirelief-aceh.org for more information.
