Communities living on Inle Lake are still coping with the aftermath of the earthquake, which caused widespread destruction to homes and livelihoods.
It’s been more than a month since a 7.7 magnitude earthquake devastated Myanmar, but people in Inle Lake, southern Shan, are still grappling with its aftermath.
For generations, communities on this scenic lake in the Shan Hills of Myanmar have lived on the water in traditional wood and bamboo stilt houses. The earthquake caused widespread destruction, leaving up to 90 percent of houses damaged or destroyed in some villages. Residents recount terrifying escapes as their homes collapsed into the water. The earthquake also damaged many boats, affecting people’s livelihoods and mobility. Drinking water supplies have been disrupted, and reconstruction efforts are complicated by access to water and the rising prices of materials. Communities on the lake also face the high risk of floods, especially during the rainy season. Last year, heavy floods hit some of these villages particularly hard.
Since the earthquake hit, many of those displaced have been living in overcrowded houses, tents, and makeshift shelters on patches of dry land around the lake. Doctors Without Borders/Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) teams are responding in four villages on Inle Lake, working to restore drinking water supplies and provide building materials and non-food item essentials to affected communities.
"The whole house fell into water with us in it"
Ma Thazin
It was Nam Pam Market Day. The exact time was 12:50. It lasted more than two and a half minutes and everything was gone.
When the earthquake happened, we were at home taking some rest after cooking and coming back from the market. After the first shock, we thought that was it, but it kept coming. Everything in the house was in chaos and falling down. We had nowhere to run as we are living on the lake. I tried to run but couldn’t and fell on my face.
My husband helped me get up. We hugged two wooden pillars while holding hands and the whole house fell into water with us in it. We tried to get to the boat, where we had to stay as our house fell. We approached the collapsed house an hour later hoping to take whatever was left. We did not eat or drink water for the whole day as everything we bought from the market fell in the water and was gone. Everybody was crying. We could not help each other as we all were in the same situation.
The day before the earthquake, I saw birds flying in a circle in the sky while I was coming back from visiting my friend. I thought, something bad will happen to our village.
Ma Thazin, Inle Lake resident
We went to live somewhere else, where we could be safe and relax, mainly on land. On land, if something like an earthquake happens, we have a place to run, not like on the lake.
The day before the earthquake, I saw birds flying in a circle in the sky while I was coming back from visiting my friend. I thought, something bad will happen to our village.
I haven’t experienced an earthquake as strong as this in my life. Neither had my parents or grandparents. I couldn’t sleep and stayed awake until two in the morning for about 15 days after the earthquake. I hang the lightbulb and place the water bottle (near me) to signal another earthquake if there is any. I am prepared to run once it comes. It was lucky it did not happen at night—if the earthquake happens at night, everyone will be gone.
The majority of collapsed houses [on the lake] are made of wood. It will cost 30 to 40 million MMK [about $14,300 - $19,000 USD] just to repair one wooden house. Some collapsed houses were so new that a house warming party hadn’t even been organized yet for them.
After my house collapsed, I went around the village and almost everything had collapsed. Right after the earthquake, not only us but the whole village did not sleep. Everybody was too scared to sleep and was alert for almost five days as they were afraid of another earthquake. Some live on the big boats as they think it is safe even when the wave strikes. Some live in temporary shelters on the land and some went to live at the monasteries.
Fishing is the primary livelihood in our village. Some people trade or do agricultural work. It is impossible to restart the business and building houses will take some time. Let’s say for someone who fishes for his living, it is difficult to go back to work when boats are destroyed. The main problem is the increased commodity prices. A 16-foot boat and motor costs more than 3 million MMK [$1,400 USD].
Currently, everybody is busy trying to rebuild the houses. I want to start resettlement as soon as possible. Our house hasn’t been repaired yet. The whole village is impacted; only three or four houses out of 245 houses are left [in the village] but those left are also tilted.
It is concerning for the rainy season. If the wind is strong, even the long-legged houses on the lake shake, so the temporary shelters will not be okay. The more family members there are living in the shelter, the worse the situation becomes. I hope there will not be a flood again.
The worst thing is not having a place to stay. I would like to stay together with my family; my husband and my in-laws. Now me and my husband stay on the lake [in a relative’s house] and my parents-in-law stay at a monastery on land where it is safer.
I have been married for three years. During this time, we have faced the heavy burden of rising commodity prices. The second time we tried to rebuild our lives, a flood hit. We tried again, and just a month later, an earthquake struck. We lost everything we had worked so hard for. Now, we do not know how to start over again.
I used to think earthquakes only happened on land, not in the water—but I was wrong. I love living on the lake, but when disasters like this strike, there is nowhere to run.
"The more I fought to escape, the deeper I sank"
Daw May Lwin*
In my 49 years of life, I have never experienced an earthquake this intense. Even my 89-year-old mother has never witnessed anything like it.
There are five people in our family. On the day the earthquake struck, only my mother, who is 89 years old, and I were at home. I was at the water tower, washing clothes. The water began to tremble slightly. Moments later, the water tower collapsed, and I was thrown into the water.
As I struggled to stay afloat, the water became thick with mud and debris from the ground. The more I fought to escape, the deeper I sank. But I was incredibly lucky—I managed to get out.
Some broken bamboo from the collapsed tower floated in my direction, and I grabbed onto that. I was wearing a wooden hat and underwater it became a burden. I was gasping for air. I took it off to breathe more freely, though my nose, mouth, and ears were filled with mud. I luckily found something solid beneath me. I stepped on it, holding myself up, and got out of the water.
My mother was left alone in the house during the earthquake. She has been paralyzed from the waist down for 13 years and cannot move without assistance. The shock of the quake caused her to faint, and we had to wake her up.
At that time, my husband was away, helping others with the repair of their homes. When he returned, we carried my mother to safety. It was a blessing that nothing serious happened to her; since she cannot move, she had been downstairs, where it was safer.
Both the uncertainty of the future and the trauma of the experience have been overwhelming. Our water farm was our main source of livelihood, and now it’s gone.
Daw May Lwin*, Inle Lake resident
Our house is a two-story building, and unfortunately, the upper floor had collapsed to the ground, along with the ladder. In our Inle tradition, there is a belief that a family's fortune is tied to the condition of the ladder [to your house] and the kitchen. If the ladder is damaged, it’s seen as a sign that progress or prosperity will be blocked. And if a ladder is repaired, a ritual must be performed.
We lost our water farm, house, and two boats. The boats had been docked at the harbor, but they were crushed when a nearby house collapsed onto them. On our floating farm, we grow tomatoes and eggplants in alternating seasons. Before the earthquake, we had planted the eggplants and they were already bearing fruit. But the earthquake caused everything to fall. The floating farms were torn apart and destroyed—an estimated 200 acres were damaged.
During the flood [of September 2024], we stayed on the second floor of our house, as the ground floor was submerged. But compared to the earthquake, the flood felt much less severe. Now, we’re living in someone else’s home, as ours is no longer livable.
After the earthquake, I’ve been affected—both physically and emotionally. I feel drained, unable to do anything, and constantly experience a racing or skipping heartbeat. I can’t walk properly and feel unsteady.
For 20 days [after the earthquake], I struggled to speak properly—my speech became slurred—and I had no appetite. I couldn’t sleep well either. The doctor advised me to eat nourishing foods to help regain my strength and to try to find ways to relax and calm myself.
Both the uncertainty of the future and the trauma of the experience have been overwhelming. Our water farm was our main source of livelihood, and now it’s gone. We’re deeply grateful to the donors—their support has covered nearly half of our expenses, which is a huge relief, as we couldn’t manage the rebuilding on our own.
To make do, we’ve been using salvaged materials from the collapsed house. So far, we haven’t been able to restart anything at the water farm because I can’t leave my mother alone at home.
My husband is out helping others dismantle their destroyed homes, with the hope that they will return the favor when it's time to take down our house. We support each other in times of need. Right now, I’m hoping to be resettled, but we need wood, and it’s currently out of stock.
With the monsoon approaching, I want to repair our house as quickly as possible. The place we’re staying in right now is fine, but it’s not our own. All five of us are currently living with my uncle. His house was also tilted, but they managed to repair it by adding extra support. However, I’m worried that the house might collapse again if the wind picks up. If the wind is strong enough, I’m concerned that the additional support won’t be able to hold.
*Name changed for privacy