I saw the first reports of the tsunami on Christmas Day. CNN.com said that the largest… I saw the first reports of the tsunami on Christmas Day. CNN.com said that the largest earthquake in 40 years had caused it. It was late at night and none of these figures really sunk in. This all changed the next morning. Three thousand people had been reported dead in Sri Lanka. In the 2,000 years of recorded history, outside folklore, no tsunami had ever reached my homeland’s shores. Even at that point in the progression of the death toll, this was the worst disaster ever to have befallen Sri Lanka.

The news devastated me, even though I knew from the beginning that my whole family was safe. They lived in the mountainous central region and on the western coastline, parts of the island that, except for some flooding, were unaffected by the tsunami. I called my parents just to make sure. To my great relief, this catastrophe had not become a personal tragedy.

I was left with the question of how to mourn this national tragedy.

My country was in the grips of despair, and here I was, about to take a road trip to New York to celebrate New Year’s Eve. It was hard for me to decide whether or not to go, but I realized that putting my life on hold served no purpose.

I did all I could to get my friends to donate to the relief effort, and I donated as much as my college budget could afford. What more could I do? Instead of prolonged grieving, I decided that I would focus on the positive that could come about as a result of this catastrophe. Lasting peace, in a country that has been for so long ravaged by war, would be the evident and important of these resulting changes.

In Sri Lanka, where the death toll now stands at 30,000, the tsunami has temporarily halted the conflict between the government and rebel groups, which have been warring for more than two decades. The conflict is between the predominantly Singhalese Sri Lankan government and the Tamil separatist group known as the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam. It is waged, at least superficially, on racial grounds and exacerbated by the mistakes and egos of individual political leaders.

Now, Singhalese and Tamil alike enter the year having suffered equally the devastation of losing a home, losing a relative or losing a livelihood. Whole villages were wiped out as water, traveling as fast as 500 miles an hour, crashed into the coastline. Sri Lankan President Chandrika Kumaratunga and LTTE leader Vellupillai Prabharkaran have already made overtures of unity and have given their full support for every Sri Lankan affected by the crisis, no matter his or her allegiance.

Government planes that were once used to bomb the rebel-controlled northern part of the island may now be used to drop aid. Elite militant cadres, who once orchestrated horrendous suicide bombings in the ’90s, are organizing with government troops to deliver relief efforts in the areas hardest hit. They are, as Sri Lankan Prime Minister Mahinda Rajapakse called them, “brothers in tragedy.”

A tenuous ceasefire between the two sides may be strengthened by this united front, paving the way for an actual peace agreement. The bitter fight between the two main political parties in Sri Lanka has also disappeared. All sides have realized that recovery can only happen if everyone works together. It is unfortunate that it took something as catastrophic as the tsunami to make them realize how trivial their differences were.

It is hard to reconcile the huge death toll with the potential for positive change. In the case of Sri Lanka and other devastated regions, the common bond of misfortune might help in overcoming any enmity that had built up over many years. Bitter enemies cooperating to rebuild the lives of their countrymen show, in times of national crisis, the superficiality of political distinctions.

Please aid the victims of the tsunami by donating to an international aid organization such as the Red Cross or UNICEF. Any amount will be appreciated. Reach Rhajiv at [email protected].