It's a wonderful spring day in London....Birds are singing as usual, people are sitting in parks having picnics, the trees have blossomed in soft pink colours...Amidst this pleasurable picture one can find me drinking peacefully soya milk. It's almost lunchtime and I'm thinking about today's meeting with my friends....Still, I am not happy..probably will never be...I am not here...and I do not want to be, because I feel guilty...guilty that I can hear the birds, guilty that I can smell the fresh grass, guilty that I can hug my friends...
Town of Labbuta....It's journey from horror to misery in Burma, satellite images show flooding similar in magnitude to hurricane Katrina. Thousands of Families affected by the cyclone wait for relief goods under open skies after losing their homes in Labbuta, a town in the Irrawaddi division of southwest Burma. Some survivors arrived half-naked, others wore clothes they scanvenged from the dead.
Myanmar's rice-trading town of Labbuta-----the only spit of high ground in a vast watery landscape------has become a beacon of hope for tens thousands who lived through the cyclone's fury, most losing homes and family members.
The survivors made the journey in rickety wooden boats with makeshift sails fashioned out of blankets, dodging the bloated corpses of buffaloes and dead neighbors floating in the murky waters.*
*information about Labbuta taken from here