'There was a lot of this, you know,' says Mohammad Haniffa, hitching up his sarong and, with suitable modesty, attempting a provocative disco wiggle of the hips.
'This was Allah's response,' he declares, standing in the rubble of his beachfront guest house.
The people of Arugam Bay had been building a nice living off the freewheeling surf- and sun-seekers who were heading to the east coast in ever greater numbers since the signing of a ceasefire between the government and the Tamil Tigers in February 2002.
There was dancing and drinking on the beach - hence the wiggle - but in a community where 85 per cent of people belong to the country's Muslim minority, was it right? Since the tsunami, Mr Haniffa - a justice of the peace and proprietor of the Sun Rise Beach Hotel - has changed his mind. 'Before I was bad, but now I am good,' he says.
If he is right, then the people of Sri Lanka's north and east have paid a terrible price for their sins.
This area of eastern Sri Lanka was not devastated by the 20 years of civil war in the way the Jaffna Peninsula, further north, was. Apart from 12 months or so in 1989 and 1990, fighting was infrequent. When the Tigers made an appearance it was more likely to be an attempt at extortion. But it was enough to keep most visitors - both foreign and Sri Lankan - away from the area's beautiful beaches and wildlife parks.