The first calls for outside help from the tsunami victims inside the secretive, military-controlled state of Burma were so impeccably polite that they were almost apologetic.
"Nobody, including our government, has given us any support, but economically we've lost a lot. We'd be very grateful for any assistance. We need just a little, not much," said Tin Thein, the secretary of Ballack Tang Tang village.
Speaking to one of the first foreign journalists to arrive in Burma after the giant waves struck, Tin Thein estimated that more than half of the 590 homes in this coastal community suffered damage.
That no one died in this area is remarkable given that most of the homes are flimsy shacks constructed on barnacle-covered stilts jutting out into the Andaman Sea.
But the locals were saved by keen-eyed lookouts who warned them of the tsunami crucial minutes before it hit and the relative weakness of the wave compared with the far more devastating impact it had in other countries.
Several homes were completely lost.
Locals say the water rose above their chests as their belongings floated away. "We need all the basics - food, water, blankets, cooking utensils," the town chief, Yu Sadad, said. However, he did not expect much assistance, he added, given the urgent needs elsewhere in south Asia.
Burma has been the great mystery of the tsunami disaster. Despite its long coastline, the government says only 90 people have died and 17 villages have been destroyed. Burmese living overseas, however, say they have heard far higher casualty figures. Overseas support groups, critical of the military junta, say the government may be covering up the true scale of the disaster.
The Burmese coastline is long, the communications infrastructure poor and government control of many communities almost non-existent. The situation could yet be far worse elsewhere. Help is needed, but it is far from clear how much.
