My
name is Taslimah, but my friends call me Tata. I was born on
March 9, 1985 in Lhok Nga, Aceh Besar, Indonesia. I am the sixth
of my parents’ seven children, and I live with three of
my siblings, my mother and my father, who is 60 years old and
retired. This is my story.
Not many people used to know what my people, the Aceh
people, were like. Let me just say that, because of the difficult
situation in our country, we are used to reacting to dangerous
situations. If we hear a shot, we get down spontaneously. Our
neighborhood is not far from the coastline, and small earthquakes
happen regularly. We respond to earthquakes quickly as well,
and we accept them as a logic consequence of living close to
the coast.
It was so sunny that Sunday morning, 26 December 2004,
great weather for a picnic on the beach. I planned to visit
a friend. But first I did my Sunday morning chores, from 6:30
to 10 I always cleaned the house, washed clothes and helped
my mom and my sister with the cooking.
I had almost finished my tasks, and was washing clothes while
listening to the radio. I sang along with the music when the
container in front of me moved. It surprised me, and I stopped
washing. It was 7:45 in the morning. It must be an earthquake,
I whispered to myself. As small earthquakes happen occasionally,
I continued washing. I heard a lot of noise outside and saw
people running around trying to find out what was going on.
20 minutes later, at 8:05, I felt a stronger earthquake. The
water splashed in the container and wet my skirt. I stopped
washing. The house was shaking, the furniture was moving and
glasses and tableware broke into pieces. My father returned
from the market and put the fish he had bought into the refrigerator.
We looked at each other, and he walked out to find out what
was going on. Outside people were screaming for help, urging
others to run to higher ground for safety. The sea was rising.
I was surprised to see the sea rising on such a sunny
day. There were no clouds, rain or thunderstorms. Seeing people
running back and forth, my family and I decided to run. After
only a few steps, we suddenly heard a loud noise like the sound
of a helicopter landing. The sound got louder. I felt as if
it would swallow the village.
Seconds later, I saw how the tsunami wave, about 20 meters high
and brownish in color, seemed to be swallowing everything. My
heart beat faster. I did not know what to do, or where the other
members of my family were.
Suddenly I remembered the Al Islah mosque, only 50 meters from
my house. According to Islamic belief, the mosque is the safest
place during catastrophes, so I ran there as fast as I could.
The blackish brown water kept swallowing big buildings right
behind me, and I reached the mosque one step ahead of the huge
wave.
Holding on to the iron bars on the mosque wall, I looked for
other survivors. I did not see my parents, siblings or other
relatives, and there were only about 50 people around. Most
of them were children, crying in confusion. At first, only the
top of the waves reached the mosque, but the water was rising
every second, and I as if the world would end in the boiling
and rolling waves.
Panicking, we tried to think of a way to reach higher ground.
We needed to get to the top of the mosque! With the remaining
energy, we ran up the stairs leading to the dome, where we tried
to calm down.
At around 8:20, the water went down. I stepped
down the stairs, slowly and carefully, to find the day was a
sunny as ever. But big changes had taken place. The tsunami
had ruined the village. Big houses were leveled to the ground,
the roads were almost unidentifiable, and there were piles of
waste. Everywhere, people were wounded and exhausted, crying
for help. Hundreds of dead bodies were scattered around the
mosque and other places. The bodies looked horrible, but I could
look away. I did not know if my family members were among them.
I was almost out of my mind. Crying, I went home to look for
my family.
I was happy to find my house still standing. Big and fancy houses
around mine were completely destroyed by the waves, but our
house was older and more solid - built 35 five years ago in
wood and concrete. What made me even happier was finding my
mother alive. During the tsunami, she did not get out of the
house, and had hidden inside. We hugged each other and cried.
While trying to find my father and siblings, I helped some of
the wounded, particularly the children. With my remaining energy,
I tried to carry them. On that day, I saved five children younger
than five. Along with other survivors, I helped them to find
food, but it was difficult. There were no roads, no electricity
and no way to communicate.
Around noon, the wounded survivors were evacuated to the nearby
village of Keude Bieng. We rested on the field. Then, I got
good news: My father and siblings were safe and in good condition.
But there were around 500 refugees in the village, and we were
still very afraid of another earthquake. We had very little
food and no medicines, and the seriously wounded victims died
from famine and loss of blood.
At 10 in the morning the day after the disaster,
I joined a group of people traveling by truck searching for
food and medical supplies. I was already involved with the Red
Cross, and felt a strong wish to help others. Even though the
situation was critical, I tried to remain tough and to face
the reality. My older brother, his wife and their children did
not make it through the disaster, but I did not let myself drown
in despair. I asked my parents and siblings for their permission,
and joined the small volunteer team of Aceh Besar PMI in serving
humanity. We did all kinds of tasks; evacuated dead bodies,
distributed aid, built emergency camps and, together with medical
team, treated the sick and the wounded. Besides, we also facilitated
the reuniting of separated family members.
Our tasks in the first week following the tsunami were extremely
difficult. In addition to the very limited supply of food and
medicines, we did not have enough emergency response equipment
(masks, gloves, stretchers, boots), and there was not one single
ambulance. Dead bodies were carried to our Headquarters, making
the office and the streets completely covered.
Months after the tsunami, there is still a
lot of work to do. As the new generation, we have to make Aceh
a better place, and this motivates me to do my best for humanity.
I am currently a PMI Volunteer, and I also find time to visit
my family three times a week, and to go to school. The conditions
of the school buildings are horrible, and many of the lecturers
died during the tsunami, but I still continue my education.
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| Taslimah
(middle, blue clothes) was one of many young Indonesia
Red Cross volunteers who managed to put her own problems
aside to help others after the tsunami in December 2004,
here she tells her story.
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| After
the tsunami, the PMI volunteers carried bodies, reunited
family members, cared for the wounded and built emergency
camps. "It was extremely difficult," says Taslima.
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