Journey to Aceh

From Lamno, let’s move to Calang, the capital of Aceh Jaya regency. But my apologies, I didn’t have the opportunity to personally visit this town  because, frankly, I could not take another boat trip. The sea sickness I experienced when sailing to Lamno from Banda Aceh was truly enough for me. There for me , the following account about Calang is my adaptation of the verbal and written reports of Abdi Purmono, also a Tempo reporter who was a member of our team.

To Abdi Purnomo, who arrived in Calang with the first batch on January 10, 2005, the town was in a much worse condition than he had imagined. The town was nearly completely wiped out; it was truly like a ghost town. The town was so severely destroyed that the capital of Aceh Jaya regency was
moved to Keude Krueng Sabe town, 6 kilometres south of Calang: the town with the postcode 23654 was virtually wiped off the map.

Before the tsunami, according to official data, the town of Calang was inhabited by 11,500 people. Now, after the unfortunate morning of 26 December 2004, only about 30 percent of the town’s population survived, or 3,500 people. According to several residents, 15-metre-high waves rampaged inland from three directions: Rigah Bay, Calang Bay and Lhok Leubu Bay. All buildings succumbed to the waves. The only building left standing, although severely ravaged, was a house owned by an  entrepreneur, Pak Nyek Beng. The white two-storey house that was situated in front of the marine command post was immediately converted into the storage place for aid.

Download CHAPTER 11 – City with The Postcode 23654

The following verse of local poetry reflects the sentiments of an Aceh emigrant living far away. Always missing his home land, always yearning for the shady  blue beaches where the clouds billow like in a painting, and the sun scatters violet streaks across the sky at dusk; seagulls and sails decorating the beach.

Beuneung raja di dalam paya,
Limpah cahaya langet bumoe,
Ku’eh han teunget, ku bleut han jaga
Pajan masa kuteumee woe
Ada’na sayeueb kuteureubang
Nyeum bereujang troih u nanggroe
(Hikayat Ranto)
Ther a inbow touches the marshes,
The sky and earth bathed in warm sunrays,
I lie down but fail to slip in to sleep,
I sit but am not fully awake,
Sur mising, can I ever go home?
If only I had wings to fly
To swiftly nestle in my homeland once more
(Stories from a broad—a free translation)

Download CHAPTER 12 – The World has Come to an End

Waving a clenched fist, Teuku Umar, anational hero from Aceh, loudly shouted “Pang laot! (Commander!) Let’s attack those ships.” With this shout, Eros Djarot, director of the film Tjut Nyak Dhien introduced the figure of a typical Aceh“ commander” (Pang laot) to Indonesian film audiences.

Frankly speaking, in the beginning I thought Panglaot was just the name of the faithful right-hand man of our national hero from Aceh, Teuku Umar, who, after Teuku was taken prisoner, continued thestruggle against the Dutch together with Tjut Nyak Dhien, the equally famous Aceh heroine. I had long forgotten about this heroic person, hence when an Aceh fisherman uttered this appellation, two weeks after the tsunami, it didn’t ring a bell in my mind. I even thought Panglaot was a kind of navy admiral.

At that time, I and other members of the Volunteer Team were in the midst of evacuating dead bodies and distributing aid. Some people suggested that we should meet Panglima Laot (Commander of the Seas). “Please, meet Panglima Laot. Assist our leader, our general, in helping Aceh fishermen,” said Usman, whom we came across sitting with a confused and dazed look at Lampulo Harbour. Besides losing his house and all his belongings, this Ulee Lheu fisherman had also lost his wife, kids and both his parents.

Download CHAPTER 13 – Abu Laot, Our Commander

Undeniably, scores of journalists toiled and sweated to help the victims. Reporters from all corners of the globe contributed to the efforts in building an international solidarity through their instant, continuous and in-depth reporting.

Compared with coverage of the tsunami in other countries, news from Indonesia was relatively late in coming. Only hours after the tsunami, international television networks had already aired news and video recordings of the situations in Thailand and Sri Lanka. On the second day of the tsunami, when Indian photographer Arko Datta captured an Indian woman howling over a victim’s dead body with his camera—a picture that later won the World Press Photo 2004  Award—people in Indonesia, let alone the international community, still had no idea about what had happened in Nanggroe Aceh Darussalam province and on Nias Island. Everyone was still in the dark about conditions in Aceh and Nias. No one had a clear idea on the magnitude of the damage inflicted by the disaster and the sheer number of victims. Even the government, during the first few days of the disaster, mentioned “only” around 1,000 victims, only to later slowly raise the number in stages to around 3,000.

Getting to the disaster-hit areas was no small task. Journalists had to fight for plane seats to reach Banda Aceh. “This is the most difficult location to reach during my entire career as a journalist,” said Eric Grigorian, whose work on a mass burial in  quake-stricken Gavince Province of Iran titled By His Father’s Grave won the World Press Photo 2003 Award.

Download CHAPTER 14 – Cleaning Service Provided by CNN

Problems came to light just as Aceh was disappearing from the media radar. Fishermen, activists and volunteers who had remained in Aceh pleaded with merepeatedly, asking me to write about various issues : problems in the construction of refugee barracks, boats that were far from suitable for local conditions, provisions that went missing on their way to the refugees, and count less other problems.

Unfortunately, those issues, while crucial to the tsunami victims, were not dramatic enough to make their way onto the front page. A month after the tsunami, news on Aceh had been demoted to the inside pages.

As someone who had been involved in the tsunami relief efforts, I could not help feeling concerned.  owever, being concerned was not enough. Something must be done to steal media attention. The recovery of Aceh dictated that the media become a strategic partner. When that partner had lost interest, we must make an effort to come up with something interesting that would grab attention. Why not try a photo exhibition? Incidentally, it was close to the commemoration of the 100th day of the tsunami and there must be countless moments worth capturing on camera.

CHAPTER 15 – The Struggle Continues

Three months after the tsunami, an earthquake in Sumatra once again grabbed world attention. This time it was centred on Nias Island, south east of Simeuleu Island. Although far from Aceh, the reverberations were felt down to the Land of the Seulawah.

I am telling you this story of Nias as an interlude because of the bitter lesson embodied in it: this disaster-ridden country never learns its lessons. Disasters lurk, ready to wreak havoc anytime, anywhere, on every inch of land from Sabang to Merauke, but we are never prepared for it. The high number of victims is not due to the magnitude of the quake but a result of slow and disorganized emergency relief efforts and evacuation of victims. Panic and difficult access to disaster areas only make things worse.

Sunday, evening of 28 March 2005. The time was 23:15 pm. I was in Banda Aceh, making preparations for the launch of a media publication for the Panglima Laot, at the same time making plans for the 100 Days After, the Struggle Continues photo exhibition. Together with several colleagues, I was in a meeting at the office of the Panglima Laot Nanggroe Aceh Darussalam, on Jl Lamnyong. Suddenly, the earth shook violently. An aftershock, I told myself. One of hundreds of aftershocks which shook Aceh after the tsunami. This time, however, it felt more powerful than previous ones and seemed like it would never end.

Download CHAPTER 16 – Between Nias and Pope