| I had left the southern coast of Sri Lanka exactly two weeks before the tsunami hit. And when I first heard the news I felt like it hit me with the force of those 80-foot waves. The news put my mind and emotions into overdrive. There I was studying math and economics, worrying about what I’m going to do when I get out of college, and something like this hits, leaving me to completely reevaluate what I want to do with my life and what I can do to make a difference. I spent last fall studying Buddhism in India and the final month of our program was dedicated to an independent study of our choice. I had been researching a Buddhist development organization in Sri Lanka and decided I might as well figure out what’s going on with that small island off the southeast coast of India. From the moment I stepped off the plane, all I could think about was beautiful people; everyone smiling all the time, everyone dropping what they had to do to take care of me, and everyone treating me like family even though my skin was quite a few shades lighter than theirs. Throughout my three weeks of research, I found it difficult to find someone who wasn’t smiling and didn’t want to help me. One man walked a friend and me all the way around his town looking for a small office where we were scheduled to conduct an interview. After about an hour of searching and some great conversations, he found the place for us. We offered money to him and he refused to take it, simply saying, “you are guests here and all I want is for you to enjoy our beautiful island.” At this point, my city American mind was thinking, “What’s this guy up to? What does he want from us? People don’t just do nice things like that for strangers.” He walked away smiling and I realized that the people there don’t consider anyone strangers, but rather treat everyone like family. We dedicated the final week of our trip to writing our papers in the small beach town of Mirissa on the southern coast. Everyone had been telling me how beautiful the beach is, but nothing could have prepared me for the wonderland I visited. Smooth sand beaches, palm trees galore, fresh pineapple and mango juice, and of course the beautiful clear blue water. The locals in Mirissa were, well, beautiful. I’ve met quite a few beautiful people over my 20 years on this planet, but none more beautiful than these people. By beautiful I mean kind, caring, accepting, and open. Beautiful people are just happy you’re around and it takes a very short period of time for them to feel like family to you. I stayed with a family that was more smiley than I thought was possible. The kids would play soccer on the beach with us, the mother cooked us incredible meals and loved any attempt we made at speaking her language. The father walked around with a somewhat carefree attitude, climbing trees for coconuts occasionally, or just smiling as he stared out over the water. They treated us like family and for a week it didn’t matter that I went to a college that costs $40,000 a year and they charge $2 a night to stay in their place. They had what they needed; a modest home, a beautiful beach, a loving family, and the Indian Ocean to give them peace. On December 26, all of that was taken from them. When I first heard the news, I began to worry about all those beautiful people who had taken me in. I might have only known them for a week, but they felt like family, because that’s how they treated me. The outpouring of support for the tsunami victims warmed my heart in the week following the event; governments pouring in money, non-governmental organizations doing their part, private donations from around the world, and a genuine sense of compassion from everyone. The front page of every newspaper had a story about the tsunami and what people can do to help. For a moment, I felt like this event may be the turning point that brings the world closer and makes people realize that despite economic, cultural, and social differences, we are all human beings and need to open our hearts to help one another. I really thought this would be the time when our circle of compassion could be extended past our families and closest friends to all those on this relatively tiny planet. But, once again, my idealist hopes have been let down. Two weeks after the tsunami hit, it was difficult to find a story about it on the front page of any major newspaper. The topic of conversation switched quickly from the tsunami to the next big thing, President Bush’s inauguration. Some groups still organized and executed fundraising attempts, Northwestern held a vigil, and the compassionate fire slowly began to fade. Today the aftereffects of the tsunami are hardly headline news and certainly not a popular topic of conversation. It worries me deeply that there are villages in Sri Lanka who still have received no aid, but we choose to ignore that because the New York Times and the Chicago Tribune have nothing to say about it anymore. It takes a natural disaster that kills over 212,000 human beings for us to stop worrying about ourselves and to begin being compassionate to those half a world away. This is a problem. Once the major media sources in the US stop coverage of the story, this newfound compassion fades away and we go back to being trapped inside ourselves battling all the insignificant garbage that’s getting in the way of making us “happy.” Officials in Sri Lanka estimate it will take close to a decade for them to completely rebuild; 10 years, 520 weeks. We can all give back one, maybe two weeks of our help and our hearts. Had this happened in San Francisco and all of your friends and family were either killed or left homeless, wouldn’t you want to help contribute for a week or two? I can guarantee that if you ever took a trip to Sri Lanka, you’d be treated like family. Newspapers print stories that will sell and once a story doesn’t sell, they cut it out. I urge you to reflect on your own for a little about what’s important instead of letting the media tell you what’s important. I challenge you to be a beautiful person and to continue to help the millions of beautiful people in Southeast Asia that so desperately need our help, even after the waves of media have receded. How can you help? The organization where Nick worked in Sri Lanka, is involved in the rebuilding effort. Information on donations can be found at: www.sarvodaya.org This beautiful person can be contacted at n-lazos@northwestern.edu | 
