Lasting trauma in Myanmar: Cyclone survivors fear wind, water

KON CHAN KONE, Myanmar — Daw Phwar Sein refuses to walk outside if it's windy or wet. She won't even go near the pond at the monastery where she is staying.

Daw Phwar Sein survived a 7-foot wave that surged through this town, 35 miles from Yangon, Myanmar's capital, when Cyclone Nargis struck earlier this month. "Don't make me go outside," she told aid workers last week.

Another woman, who stays at a temple-turned-shelter in Aphyauk village, Kawmhu township, in the Irrawaddy Delta, said she can't sleep at night. "Only in daytime when people are around me can I sleep," Daw Nyunt said. ("Daw "is the Burmese equivalent of "Mrs." and is generally used for women of middle age and up.)

Daw Nyunt was alone in her house when the storm came. Her house collapsed and the water rose up to her chin before a neighbor pulled her to safety.

The two women are among tens of thousands of storm victims traumatized by Cyclone Nargis, which slammed into Yangon and the Irrawaddy Delta May 2 and 3. More than 100,000 people were killed, according to U.N. estimates, and tens of thousands are homeless.

One of the most common symptoms of trauma among survivors is an inability to sleep. Even children are restless during the night.

"That makes them tired and weak the next morning. The more tired and weak they are, the more likely they are to lose resistance," said a doctor in Bogalay town, one of the worst-hit areas. "It can make them vulnerable to epidemics such as cholera and diarrhea."

Another symptom is the vacant stare.

A 42-year-old survivor from Haing Gyi island, where the storm first touched land in Myanmar, said his older brother just sits where his house used to be, refusing to eat or speak. The brother lost his house and fishing boat, worth more than $800.

"My brother is not normal," the man said, breaking into tears. "His eyes are dazed. He didn't say anything. And we can't ask him anything."

A Yangon resident who drove to Kon Chan Kone to donate rice and clothes saw several survivors acting strangely on the road.

The resident said he saw a man running and shouting, "Water is coming." But there was no water in sight.

Another man was climbing a utility pole, saying, "If you climb the pole, you can escape from the water."

A psychologist with a private practice in Yangon said it would take several months to deal with the mental-health issues of many who lost family members, homes and livelihoods.

A small group of health professionals from India and Thailand were allowed in by the reclusive military junta over the last few days.

Myanmar does have well-trained mental-health professionals. But Burmese people traditionally rely on astrologers and religious leaders, such as monks, to help them deal with their problems.

Experts say most people experiencing tragedies recover with time and are eventually able to go on with their lives.

But for now, the hurt in the delta is deep.

In Kon Chan Kone, where more than 4,000 people died, a man in his 30s was trying to console his crying baby. He was staring at a fallen tree that killed his wife as they tried to flee from the storm.

"Don't cry, baby," the man said. "Your mother will surely come back to breast-feed you. I'm also waiting for her to come home."

Min Khet Maung is the pen name of a Burmese journalist based in Yangon, whose real name is not being disclosed because of government restrictions on reporters. Maung Dee and Nem Davies, Burmese reporters based in New Delhi, contributed to this article.