The
night’s tropical rain is no exception. It goes as this
type of rain normally goes - first barely making a noise, then,
all of sudden crashing down hard.
As the rain hits the roof of the tent in the camp of Tanjung
Harapan in Meulaboh in west Sumatra, 25-year-old Irawati is
woken by the drumming sound.
Not being able to go to sleep again, she cannot stop herself
from looking out into the darkness with a strong feeling of
fear mounting inside of her.
The experience of surviving the tsunami has certainly marked
her, but luckily her husband and their two children are all
safe and sound.
Sometimes she experiences an enormous gratitude, since she knows
many people whose lives have been shattered. Nonetheless, the
struggle for survival is far from over.
That is also why Irawati has trouble of letting go of her worrying
thoughts.
Naturally, she wishes hard for a new house, all of the mostly
fishermen and fishmongers of the camp do, but she is painfully
aware of the most pressing issue being the tent in which the
family is temporarily staying.
Not only is it a tent, it is also a tent which is getting worn-out.
Little by little holes are spreading over the black-stained
canvas and seams starting to split. What will happen to them
when the rain starts falling for days on end?
Fortunately for families like Irawati’s, help is at hand.
A few kilometres away, later on this day, a white all-terrain
M6 truck is once again waiting to be loaded. This time by three
volunteers from the Palang Merah Indonesia (PMI) bringing out,
one after another, 50 robust family tents from the ware-house
and getting ready to go.
When Saifuddin, one of the distribution volunteers, jumps on
the truck, he makes sure that he is carrying the registration
cards. As the team slowly takes off through the busy streets
of Meulaboh, this might look like an ordinary mission, but it
is not.
It is in fact a race against time since the monsoon period is
approaching, and the PMI and the International Federation of
Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies are taking on the mission
of replacing 27,000 old tents with new ones where ever the need
might occur. And there are needs.
Nine months after the tsunami more than 150,000 people in Aceh
still live in tents and barracks.
“The situation is very serious, and even if neither the
PMI nor the Federation manages any camps, these people have
a right to be assisted. Therefore, we are closely monitoring
their living conditions”, says Nazri Zakaria, a relief
delegate from the Federation as he is talking to the camp leader
while awaiting the arrival of the truck.
From a nearby tent, their moves are being closely followed by
six seated women. Although different in age and appearance,
they share a mournful fact - they are all widows, now trying
to get on with their lives as best they can.
For Omallah Keumala this means ready-made fishing lines. Gently,
she picks up a blue fish lure and puts it together with the
ends of a plastic line. Holding the setting above a candle for
a few seconds, she sticks it together. Then she carefully examines
it, and puts it in the pile of devices she is bringing to the
market to sell, work that will, altogether, fetch her some 20,000
rupees a week, a sum equal to US$2.
“This is the only security I have”, she explains
as she reaches for another fish line.
While the adults gradually try to get hold of an uncertain future,
the children in the camp tend their dreams.
“A movie star, that is what I would like to be,”
says 8-year-old Dek Joul, shrugging off a shy smile, but the
shyness is misleading. Before long, Dek Joul is taking the lead
as a princess with her servants in the Ranueb Lampuan Dance,
a graceful performance in the middle of the narrow and dusty
road of the crowded camp.
As the music is ebbing, Ramlah, a 60-year-old woman is gently
making her way through the crowd. Her body still aches from
the bruises she got after been dragged under the water on a
day she will not be able to forget, the day when she lost all
her family members.
Now Ramlah is heading for the distribution of tents, a new tent
being a small consolation as her days go by in grief and loneliness.
As she frankly puts it: “I have nothing, I am happy with
whatever I get. The choice is entirely yours.”
At least Ramlah, and her neighbour Irawati, together with her
family, will be able to sleep easy under new tents.
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The
tents in which the tsunami affected families are temporarily
staying are getting worn-out. Little by little holes are
spreading over the black-stained canvas and seams starting
to split.
Photo: Þorkell Þorkelsson/International Federation
(p13316)
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A
white all-terrain M6 truck is unloaded by three volunteers
from the Palang Merah Indonesia (PMI) bringing out, one
after another, 50 robust family tents and getting ready
to give them to families in need.
Photo: Þorkell Þorkelsson/International Federation
(p13312)
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Saifuddin,
one of the distribution volunteers, jumps on the truck,
he makes sure that he is carrying the registration cards.
The PMI and the International Federation of Red Cross
and Red Crescent Societies are taking on the mission of
replacing old tents with new ones where ever the need
might occur. And there are needs.
Photo: Þorkell Þorkelsson/International Federation
(p13317)
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Nine
months after the tsunami more than 150,000 people in Aceh
still live in tents and barracks.
Photo: Þorkell Þorkelsson/International Federation
(p13315)
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Ramlah
is one of many people who lost her whole family in the
tsunami. The 60-year-old is now heading for the distribution
of tents, a new tent being a small consolation as her
days go by in grief and loneliness.
Photo: Þorkell Þorkelsson/International Federation
(p13318)
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