Перевод our wonderful hotel stands, or rather stood, right on the beach. for some reason, on that particular day we were given a table right next to the exit, the furthest away from the sea. we had hardly started our meal when there was some noise, with people getting up from their seats. everyone was pointing at something. and there really was something to see! the water had disappeared, falling back from the shore by about 150-200 metres, revealing coral and beaching small boats. many rushed off to examine this phenomenon and to take photos. the fact that we had left our camera in our room no doubt saved our lives. three minutes later the water reappeared. a characteristic of a tsunami is that the wave isn’t very deep, less than a metre, but it travels at the speed of an aeroplane and is about 100 kilometres in length. it only gains in height when it comes into the shallows. all that stuff in hollywood disaster movies when people can be seen running and screaming from the water (or the fire, or the hurricane), turned out to be true. the water came rushing up faster than anyone could run, though. we managed to make it up onto the top floor of the hotel, the third, from where we looked down. the hotel was already an island, the water half way up the first floor. as if playing with toys, the water was churning furniture, scooters, cars, people… a short while later, the water began to roll back into the ocean. it hadn’t reached the second floor, where our room was. we got our passports and money from the safe, quickly packed a rucksack with bare essentials and, grabbing the camera, returned to the third floor. some people went down to the ground floor, looking for their things, up to the waists in the water, trying to get into their rooms. we started photographing the destruction from above the ocean. we froze when we saw the second wave. those who had gone downstairs hardly had a chance. describing the horror we felt is impossible. the second wave was several times stronger than the first, and it became clear that the hotel, along with us, was doomed. the water washed away the balconies and windows, flooding through the building. the height of the water at that point was about ten metres. we rushed up the stairs as high as we could go. during the second wave, it occurred to us that more waves would follow. we were tense, concentrated. the clarity of our thoughts shocked us. we worked out a strategy for what we would do if we ended up in water. we agreed where we'd meet if we got separated.when the second wave fell back, people started jumping into the water and swimming in the direction of the shore. we considered this option but decided to hang on as long as the building was still standing. it wasn’t far to the ‘new’ shoreline, but it was chaos in the water: cars, furniture, buses, carpets, trees – the chance of getting a whack on the head was too high. and there could be more waves coming. when the third wave came, it became clear that our decision had saved our lives. although smaller than the second, the third was also strong. then we sat at the top of the hotel, waiting for the fourth. the only way to get away was by swimming, but no one was taking that risk. no fourth wave came. a dry patch had appeared on one side of the building and we could flee across it. running was hard, as we were loaded down, and we were making our way in a thick layer of slippery mud. the locals led us to a hill further back from the water. they were doing everything they could to help the tourists – carrying stuff, giving them their shoes, showing the way, carrying those who couldn’t walk. i don’t want to see anything like that again in my life. and i hope with all my heart that you don’t either!

Danyka47    1   27.08.2019 20:20    12