When I arrived in northeastern Sri Lanka, the story was easy to find. People were eager to tell visitors about friends and family members they had lost, about how they feel, about how they are coping. All of this was typically conveyed through broken English and elaborate hand gestures, but if you look close enough, you can find everything you need to know in their eyes and in the worn expressions on their faces. The people who tell you the most are the ones that say nothing at all.

Their story is one of hope and despair, of families still trying to come to grips with what has happened to them, with all they have lost and, at the same time, trying to move on. There is a sense of uncertainty, but there is also progress. Temporary schools are up and running, new catamarans are being built, improvements are being made to the temporary homes constructed by nongovernmental organizations.

What the people need is a return to normalcy, and I discovered that through all the destruction and loss, they are determined to find that.