It was Sunday morning on December 26th, 2004, around 8 am. I was already up and comfy with my pajama, sitting and chatting with my mom in the living room. She was all dressed up
in case the guests came. My parents were about to leave for Hajj that week. In Aceh culture tradition, friends and relatives would always come by to send blessings before someone leaves for such pilgrimage. Since we already had guests all night long the night before, so mom
kind of knew that guests would still be coming, especially since it was Sunday.
My father was in the bathroom taking shower. Sister and a cousin who were
visiting were in the kitchen washing dishes. The earthquake came. It was the
biggest one, the 8.9 one. All of us run outside the house with all
neighbors. The shake was big and long. I
could not remember how long it lasted, perhaps for a couple of minutes. I had experienced
many earthquakes before, but every time I had it, I felt very
intimidated. May be it’s one of God’s ways to tell human beings that we are so
small and basically nothing compare to this universe.
We were all hugging to each other, praying, and many started
crying. We could hear clearly all the broken sound from all the houses that
actually made the whole atmosphere even more frightening. None of us knew what
was happening at that time. Then it finally stopped. Since we all had
earthquakes before, we knew that it’s better to wait a bit before going back in
for the aftershocks. My mom told my dad to quickly go in and changed (he was
outside with only wearing towel). He went in and used a sarong and a shirt and
quickly went back outside. Then, 5 minutes later, as we all expected. Another
earthquake, this time a smaller one, may be around 7 in Richter Scale. More
crying. It was even longer than the first one. I was truly scared. I said my prayers in my heart and trusted that God would take care of this, “tawakkal” –
that’s what we say in Islam. Mom and dad told us to do the same. Then we were
all a bit relaxed and less frightened. Then the quake stopped again. Now, the
atmosphere was no longer the same. More people started panicking and shouting
like “where is my son and daughter?, do you see my husband?, or my sister is
now jogging downtown now, how can I reach her?”, etc, etc.
Then, the third quake came and it was much smaller, around 5-ish Richter Scale. People started to cry and scream even more. Then we started to see that our neighbors from the end of the street were running towards us. Rushing. When they were near, we could hear that they kept on screaming “Run…Run…To the Mosque”. We kept on asking them, but Why…What is Going On? Of course nobody bothered to answer since they were busy running. Anyway, without knowing why, I and everyone were running as well – just confused. Some people were even still trying to lock their houses before running. In the next few minutes, we could hear a horrible sound, something like helicopter sound, but louder. It’s weird I thought. Then, while running I looked at my back, then, there it was. Dark brown, high, a monster like with 3 to 4 meters high, the water! Lord, never in my life, I felt as scared as that morning. My sandals were broken already, so I had to run barefoot. The water was approaching very fast. The mosque was not far from our house. Once we arrived there. The men quickly asked all the women and children to go upstairs (the mosque had two floors). So, we basically had to be separated because my dad had to stay downstairs. The mosque was big and had many pillars with no walls around. So the water could just flow in easily without barriers. I knew for a fact, that I could lose my dad that day. He could have died there. I told them that I’d better die together with my family then had to survive without them. So I insisted not to go upstairs with everyone if I had to leave my dad alone. My mom and my sister felt the same. But then my dad is a type of person who always thinks about others first before himself. For him, he would rather die than risking his family. So, it’s a very difficult moment. I just couldn’t leave him alone there. The thought of it almost killed me already. The water was there already. It’s already up my waist. We had to make a quick decision. God, it was the first time I realized what my family meant to me. I’d rather lost everything in this world. Then, we made a compromise. My sister stayed downstairs together with my dad since she was physically stronger and my mom and I had to go up. No other choice. We hugged and we kissed and we cried. We had to do it quickly. The water was up my chest already. I felt pain in my heart like I never felt before. The earth was still shaking. The mosque could have collapsed. It was actually not a perfect idea to go upstairs either. It was as risky as to stay downstairs. But we just had to choose. Since most women and children were considered physically less strong than men, therefore could not confront the fast water, the men had to sacrifice.
Upstairs. When we finally arrived on the second floor, I saw many of
female neighbors were already there, crying and praying. When they saw me and
my mom, they rushed towards us to give us hugs with tears in their eyes. It’s
funny but I did not cry at all though my heart was all in pain. One neighbor
told me, full of tears, that she didn’t know where her son and husband were at
that moment. They left early in the morning to go to the beach, which was very
common. It is part of Acehnese culture to go to the beach every Sunday morning.
Beside, my neighborhood is only about 6-7 km from the main Lhok’Nga beach and
4-5 km from Ulee Lheu beach. I secretly felt so relieved in my heart and
thanked God quickly because my family was supposed to be in the beach as well
that morning. My little brother who was studying in Jakarta was supposed to fly
back to Aceh that weekend but the plan was cancelled. We then decided to also
cancel our beach picnic that Sunday.
We were waiting and waiting and wondering in fear how my dad and my
sister were doing down there. I kept on asking my mom that I wanted to go
downstairs to see how they were doing. But mom stopped me because it could be
more dangerous. Few men suddenly went upstairs carrying bodies in their hands.
They were all my neighbors who were passed away. It was just hard to believe my
eyes because I just saw them the day before and they were just fine. More and
more bodies were brought up. In no time, upstairs were full of dead bodies. I
could not stop thinking that the next one might be my dad or my sister. My
tears still nowhere on my face but I knew that my heart was on the floor. I
felt so much pain. I just hugged my mom tight, hoping that the pain would then disappear.
My mom was just amazing. She was not panicking. She just sat down in silence
and comforted others. She looked so strong though I knew that she was also
scared. She kept on telling me to remember God and to recite God’s name. It was
the longest 45 minutes of my life.
Finally, someone yelled that the water subsided. I slightly felt
relieved and wanted to rush downstairs so badly to see my beloved dad and
sister. I reached the stairs and slowly stepped down. It was unimaginable what
I saw downstairs. Water. Bodies covered with mud. I looked for my dad and
sister. I saw them hanging in one of the mosque’s pillars, survived. Never in
my life had I cried so much. Nothing else matters.
Then, I noticed even more that the whole atmosphere in the mosque was
terrifying and sad. Everybody was trying
to pull so many dead bodies from the mud, the fence, and everywhere. Some were
crying and fainted when they figured that the body was one of their families,
relatives or friends. It was a total chaos. But the men of my neighborhood were
amazing. They worked together hand in hand right away to evacuate and gather
all the bodies. In less than an hour the mosque up and down was covered with
the dead bodies.
I have to tell you this one story. There was this one neighbor of
mine, a 17 year old girl that we found with no clothes in the mud tangled in
electricity wire from outside the mosque. We managed to pull her out. She swallowed
so much dirt water therefore could not breathe and both of her legs were broken.
We tried to cover her naked bodies with whatever we could find. Her face was
already so pale. Her head was on my lap and the body was on a piece of plank. I
was with 3 other girls trying to help her. I knew her and her family quite
well. She kept on saying that she could not breathe and that her chest was
hurting. She also kept on asking whether we saw her mom and dad and siblings.
All three of us were so sad because we knew everybody in her family was dead.
We lied to her. We told her that we saw her family somewhere in the mosque and
they were all fine. We wanted to motivate her to keep on breathing. We also
tried to pump out water from her chest. A lot of dirt water came out from her
mouth but her face turned blue. The men were trying to find whatever
transportation thought it looked like it was impossible. Since the road was
totally blocked with so many trees and dead bodies. Finally they found a car
with a driver from the other part of the city that came to help. We planned to
bring her to a nearby hospital, clinic or somewhere, so that at least she could
get at least a simple medical treatment.
I thought about my family that they must have been wondering and worried
since I did not have a chance to inform them where I was at that time.
All nearby hospitals were not functioning. There were all full of mud
and water. However, we finally found a small community health clinic somewhere
and put her in one of the beds there. There was no doctor, only one nurse. She
said that she didn’t have any other medicines or equipment because everything
was already taken to help out other victims. It was so frustrating since we
came all the way for nothing. None of us knew what to do next. The only thing
we could do is to give her water because she was thirsty and some cookies. We
decided that one of us should go to find other help. One of the guys then left.
I then started to feel so worried about my family. None of them knew where I
was at the moment. I wanted to go back to the mosque to at least let them know
that I was fine but at the same time I did not want to leave my two friends
there to wait. Both of their families knew where they were already. The help
was still not yet arrived. Since I couldn’t find other solutions and it was
about 4 PM already, I decided to leave them for a while with a promise to come
back as soon as possible. Then, I was also confused how I could go back to the
mosque since there was no other transportation. So I decided to just walk by
foot little by little. It must have been 100 degrees that day and I had no
slippers on. The underside of my foot was so burned. I hardly could walk. Thank God I then found a
guy passing by with a motor cycle. I stopped him and asked him to drop me
anywhere that can bring me closer to my neighborhood. He stopped me in one of
the road where one family’s friend lived. The front side of their house was
already full with people. The wife then saw me and hugged me and quickly asked
about my family. I told them they were safe but I had to go back to the mosque to
find them and the only thing I needed was a pair of slippers. They got me one.
I then continued walking until I found a truck with a lot people. Many of my
neighbors were inside the truck. They saw me in the street and asked the driver
to stop. They told me to climb up but I told them I couldn’t because I had to
go back to the mosque to find my parents. They told me that my family was
looking for me and that they were no longer in the mosque. They left because
one of my dad’s relatives from another part of town came to help. I knew which
relatives that they were referring to and I knew where they lived. So, I
decided to just go there instead. A bit worried. What if they were not there! Then,
the trucked stopped me in one of the intersections about 2 miles from the house
I was heading to. When I started to walk, I then saw my Uncle Mukhlis, my dad’s step brother in a motor cycle. He stopped and took me on the back of his bike. He
told me that he had been going back and forth to the mosque to look for me because my
parents were so worried since they could not find me when they left and that
was his last ride since he’s running out of fuel. I totally understood because
the feeling was mutual.
I finally arrived in my relative house around Maghrib (sunset) time. My parents were really upset but relieved. I told them the story and they understood. We were glad at least we were all there together safe there. No electricity that night. None of us could sleep since there were at least more than 100 quakes we felt that night. We kept on running outside the house almost every 5 minutes – so depressing. I kept on hearing helicopters sound in my ears. Not sure if that’s because of the water or it was really helicopters passing by. I thought about my friend and the dying girl in that clinic. I deeply felt guilty for leaving them there. I prayed that the other guy came back soon with help. I prayed that she survived. Later that week I found out that she could not make it. I was so sad. But then I thought perhaps it’s better that way since everybody in her family also died.
I finally arrived in my relative house around Maghrib (sunset) time. My parents were really upset but relieved. I told them the story and they understood. We were glad at least we were all there together safe there. No electricity that night. None of us could sleep since there were at least more than 100 quakes we felt that night. We kept on running outside the house almost every 5 minutes – so depressing. I kept on hearing helicopters sound in my ears. Not sure if that’s because of the water or it was really helicopters passing by. I thought about my friend and the dying girl in that clinic. I deeply felt guilty for leaving them there. I prayed that the other guy came back soon with help. I prayed that she survived. Later that week I found out that she could not make it. I was so sad. But then I thought perhaps it’s better that way since everybody in her family also died.
I, my parents and my sister stayed in that house for about a month.
The house was small. They only had two small bedrooms and they had 6 kids (2
girls and 4 boys). Bu they still gave one of the rooms for 4 of us. The girls
slept with the parents in the other room and the parents asked the boys to
sleep somewhere else. The living room was also used for so many other relatives
who came from the village to Banda Aceh to find their other relatives. We
wanted to rent another house so that we could lessen the burden but could not
find any houses which were affordable. It’s amazing how they set the price so
high because they only wanted to rent out the houses for UN and NGO offices
since they could pay high price. A medium size house was around 100 dollars per
day. We could not afford that.
We run out of food so quickly while no assistance was yet delivered.
We only could eat rice and small piece of omelet twice in a day. No money and
nowhere to buy food. We had to rely on what was available in the house. It was
also difficult to mobilize because the fuel was also so scarce. Only after a
week, the first truck came to the neighborhood to disseminate gasoline. Couple
of days later, a truck with rice and instant noodles finally came. The queue
was long every time and one household could only get a standard portion. It was
still hard for us since there were so many people in the house at the moment.
But since we also had a bit of gasoline, we then could go outside a bit to find
other food. My strong mom was finally so
down that week because she just found out that her only sister passed away in
the Tsunami. She just sat in the corner, praying every day. She only had one
dress to wear – the one that she run with. When it’s dirty she washed it then
waited til it dried then wore it again. It broke my heart really bad. I and my
sister could at least borrow some of the girls’ clothes. Underwear was a big
issue for all of us. I don’t need to explain
it further. I just want to give a background on our situation that time. We
heard the rumors that assistance was already arrived but it was all piled up in
the airports. It could not be disseminated because many roads were still
blocked and they only could rely on the helicopters for the time being. So all
we could do was to be patient and tighten our belts.
A couple days later, my brother with my uncle in Jakarta arrived in
Banda Aceh with a car full of food. They just followed their intuition since they
could not get any news whether or not we survived. Communication was difficult.
I had my mobile phone but without charger and no electricity. So, they flew to
Medan – the next city before Banda Aceh and drove to Banda Aceh for more than
14 hours. They also brought in some clothes and more importantly clean
underwear and cash. Later that month, I also received cash and other type of
humanitarian assistance, from many of friends from foreign countries. I didn’t
know how all of these could finally reach us, by the way. Every day, there were
random people came to the house and brought us assistance from so and so. We
will never ever forget that.
The second week, the basic food assistance like rice, cooking oil,
egg, gasoline, was flowing more frequent. We heard there were so many help came
from everywhere. Indonesian volunteers, national and foreign soldiers, local
and international NGOs, religious groups, name it. Everyone was there to help.
I would say the Red Cross and the volunteers were crucial. They did the evacuation day and night to clear the road. The soldier also worked day and night to cut
the trees and remove all the debris to provide immediate access to the
beneficiaries. We also heard some stories that our Social Welfare Minister was actually in Banda Aceh to lead the relief coordination meeting every night. NGOs were also very active with food
distribution and tents. So everything was a lot better after the second week.
Among all assistance we received, the only thing I disliked was the fortified
biscuit from WFP J
We also went back to our house to check the damage. We lost several
walls. 2 dead bodies still floating in the kitchen – one was a 5 year old girl
and the other was a man. The house looked scary and dark - full of trees,
garbage and water. We collected all the clothes we could find to wash. I cried again when I looked at
my dad with all his gray hair with water up his waist trying to pick up our
belongings which were floating in the water. All of his life he worked as a
civil servant for the government and my mom as a teacher. We were not poor but
we were not rich either. That was our only house. He and my mom saved their
money to buy that house with everything inside. We had enough. But everything
they had worked for seemed to be gone in less than an hour. He smiled at me and
said that he’s better lose everything than lose his family. This was only
material he said. It’s something that we could always get back. It was hard for
me to see the future that day. I only could see his gray hair and pain. I knew
that he was about to retire in the next 2 years. There was no way or him to
collect enough money to rebuild what we had lost in 2 years. But I was wrong
and he was right.
I wish I could just record everything, every details I saw that day,
that week, that month, that year. But I know it will be impossible. If one asks
me what lessons I could draw from that experience. There are possibly no
perfect answers for that question. The closest might be that I was reborn
again. Though I do not believe in reincarnation, it really felt like it. I see
the world differently now. There are so many things that I considered important
were actually was not that important. Life is indeed short and unpredictable. We
really should live the best of it and treat others right. My dad says: You pray
hard, you work hard, you rest hard and you socialize hard – otherwise you will
never be happy. I trust him! One could never tell when exactly God wants to
take us. I consider myself very lucky to have gone through this.
The Indian Ocean Tsunami might be one of the biggest and perhaps one
of most difficult relief operations to coordinate, especially since the scale
of the damage was huge. I could feel that all the assistance and the care that
came from all over the world were truly genuine and sincere. There was a lot of
challenging moments but I could not ask for more effectiveness given all the
challenges. I knew that everybody from
Banda Aceh or outside was trying their best to deliver and I am forever
grateful for that, though I have a different opinion about the reconstruction
phase in Banda Aceh.
Nobody could control or stop a hazard. Indonesia, including Aceh, is
highly prone to almost all types of natural hazards (Tsunami, earthquakes,
floods, droughts, volcano eruption, name it). Tsunami should be a wake-up call
for the national and local authorities and communities to realize this risk and
to take it seriously. The risk is real and we have seen it firsthand of how one
hazard could create such a disaster, not only the human losses and damages, but
also its impact to the economy. I truly
hope that everybody can draw lessons from this disaster event and take serious
measures to mitigate the risks. I wish I knew more about the Tsunami. I might
have learned it from school when I was a kid but it must have been so brief. I
believe it was not as important as Math otherwise I would have remembered. May
be, my mom’s sister would have been alive now if only we had an early warning.
We perhaps could save more lives. For Aceh, it’s crucial to have early warning
systems established and equipped with already tested emergency
evacuation/preparedness plan. Disaster awareness should be disseminated locally
and introduced in school curriculum and community gatherings. Everybody should
be comfortably aware with the risk and the plan. Awareness raising about the
importance of building disaster resilient infrastructures should also be
targeted to the building contractors and construction workers, not only the
policy makers. They are the ones who do the actual implementation. Sometimes,
the problem is not always about the building codes or the institutional
framework, but the ignorance of the workers in the field who feel that it is ok
to reduce the amount of cement or concrete or steel to cut down the price.
Nobody would know or notice anyway. Moral obligation to build a safer and
stronger infrastructure for everybody should be encouraged. Without undermining
the importance of upstream engagements at the national level, we need to
remember that engagements at the local level tend to work better than the regulations
on papers. We need to ensure that policies, regulations, and knowledge arrive in
where the population lives. Aceh should
also think about disaster insurance for homeowners like the one implemented in
Romania. One of my mom’s friend took loan from the Bank to build a house the
lost it in the Tsunami yet she still has to pay her debt to the Bank. Nobody
helps her until now.
Washington, DC
August 15th, 2009
