In the aftermath of the tsunami, North-East couple Aloy and Juliet Mariathasan, who are originally from Sri Lanka, returned to help the stricken country. They share their harrowing experience with Sarah Foster

IT was a bright Boxing Day morning when Aloy and Juliet Mariathasan's world came crashing down. They were sitting in church, just like any other Sunday, and a woman turned to them and whispered: "Did you hear about Sri Lanka?" That was the first they knew of the catastrophic tsunami that had deluged their homeland.

"It was a shock really, because we hadn't heard anything," remembers Juliet, 60. Her husband Aloy, 66, takes up the story: "We came back and switched on the television, then we started ringing some of our relations out there to see if they were OK. We had the news on 24 hours a day, telling us as much as possible, and also the Internet."

Mercifully, the couple's home village, in North Sri Lanka, was not affected, and neither were any of their loved ones. But as the images of death and devastation flashed before them, they were filled with despair. "It was really upsetting. You wanted to watch but you didn't want to watch. It was so horrifying," says Juliet.

Among the carnage, however, there were the inevitable miracles. One story, in particular, touched the Mariathasans. "Instead of saying the Sunday mass in the church he usually said it at, the priest in Mullaitivu, in the North-East, decided to say it a bit further away in a church called St Joseph's. He took more than 1,500 people to that church.

"When the mass was finished and they came back, the whole town had disappeared. One orphanage - 60-odd children - went for the mass and they survived. He doesn't know why he did it," says Aloy incredulously.

Perhaps it was the hint of divine intervention or perhaps the saving of innocent lives - which as parents and grandparents, evoked strong feelings in Aloy and Juliet - that prompted them to act. Coincidentally, they had intended to visit Sri Lanka anyway, on December 30, but in the wake of the tsunami, they cancelled the trip. Now they decided to just postpone it - and go and join the relief effort.

"We wanted to go and help the people but at the same time, we wanted to say we had sent some financial help to them," says Aloy.

What followed was a fundraising effort of epic proportions. With the help of friends, Aloy and Juliet laid on a meal for 138 at St Augustine's Church, in Darlington, bearing the cost themselves and charging £25 a head. More money came from a collection on the night, and the parish centre gave £6,000. Aloy's work, trunk road maintenance firm Aone, contributed £1,100, and the Yorkshire Bank matched it.

With other donations, including from Alderman Leach Primary School, the total raised was £8,500 - which Aloy and Juliet topped up to £10,000.

They're still visibly moved by people's generosity. "It was amazing," says Juliet, recounting how a stranger, hearing of their efforts, put £500 through their letterbox. "The British people are the most generous people in the world," adds Aloy, becoming tearful.

As qualified engineers - the couple first came to Britain in their youth to study engineering - their skills were much needed in Sri Lanka. On arriving there in late January for a five-week stay, they reported for duty to the Tamil Rehabilitation Organisation.

"We helped them sort out and build temporary accommodation. Juliet was involved in cleaning the wells that had been filled up with flood water and also damaged," says Aloy. "When we saw what had actually happened we just couldn't believe it. We were gobsmacked."

Where Aloy and Juliet had arrived, in the Mullaitivu region, the TV cameras hadn't been. As the North and East of Sri Lanka are controlled by the Tamil Tigers, the Government directed the media away from them. Yet Aloy says it was the East that was worst hit by the tsunami.

'Nobody knows how many died because it's not like England - there's no census. The Government wants to help the South - that's where they control - but they don't want to help the North and the East."

Juliet still can't believe some of the scenes - seen diluted through our television screens - that she saw first-hand.

"There was a vast area of this beautiful beach and all it had was people's clothes and children's shoes. They've cleared some of it but even after all the clearing, there's so much left.

"There was a house on the beach which was more-or-less flattened and on the side they had four graves with four crosses on them and there were men just walking about. They couldn't find the bodies so they had made these makeshift crosses. Three of them were children. Then there was the mother next to them and the father was just wandering."

Aloy adds his own disturbing memory - of hearing of women's long hair and saris caught in barbed wire as the tsunami swept by. "Luckily, we didn't see that, but if we had seen it, I honestly don't know how we'd have felt," he admits.

A large part of the couple's trip was spent at the Urethirapuram Children's Home, an orphanage for girls aged five to 18.

"We visited quite a few orphanages and when we saw them we wanted to help them all, but obviously it wasn't really possible," says Juliet. "So we identified one orphanage so at least we could see something for it."

The children - victims of the civil war, tsunami and other deaths - live in a single hall that serves as both dormitory and dining room. There are no beds, and they sleep two to a mat on an often rain-soaked floor. The nuns who run the home do what they can - but with only aid to rely on, this is often precious little.

Aloy and Juliet gave them £4,000 towards building a dining hall and kitchen, as well as £2,000 to a local bishop and £2,000 to Father James Pathinathan, who held the life-saving mass. Now back home at Middleton St George, near Darlington, they're still fundraising, with the rest of their money - and any more they make - likely to go to the orphans.

"The orphanage was very heartbreaking," remembers Juliet. "What struck me was that the children were all smiling; apart from the older ones - you could see the sadness in their faces. With what little the younger ones were getting, they were content.

"We took some sweets with us and they were just standing there, picking up one sweet at a time. It was heartbreaking."

While they'd love to visit Sri Lanka more often, the couple say the ongoing conflict prevents them. However, they plan to keep in regular contact with the orphanage, and their ultimate goal is to find a sponsor for every child.

"The dream that I have is that I would love to take some of the people who are contributing and show them where their money is going, so they can see the children themselves," says Aloy.