20 March 2008

Friends,

Thanks to the Internet and the ubiquity of news channels like CNN, I have nearly instant access to news from the United States and have been able to follow closely the developments in the presidential race. In the lead-up to primary elections on February 5, I heard the press referring to the day as “Tsunami Tuesday.”

I must admit that the application of the word “tsunami” to our political process was a bit disconcerting. No doubt Super Tuesday 2008, with the highest number of primaries on one day in U.S. history, could have reshaped the political landscape in the way a tidal wave reshapes geography. But being here in Indonesia in the aftermath of a real tsunami, having seen the damage and heard stories from survivors of unimaginable tragedies, it’s hard to hear the word used so glibly.

A “tsunami flower” named Tjoet in Samatiga, West Aceh, March 2008. (Local children are often called “tsunami flowers” because so few were able to survive.)

I’ve just returned from Banda Aceh, the capital city where 80,000 people died on December 26, 2004. Colleagues from three Indonesian church-based agencies, who have been providing aid to the Acehnese people since the day after the disaster, gathered to hear the results of a three-week evaluation of their efforts. I enjoyed the privilege of interpreting for my Indonesian colleagues as they discussed their programs with two external evaluators from Germany and Azerbaijan.

Although it has been three years since the tsunami and the unprecedented amounts of support that came in from around the world, the survivors continue to face serious problems. House reconstruction has been slow because the wave made hundreds of miles of land along the coast uninhabitable. Building supplies have been hard to come by due to skyrocketing demand alongside sincere and admirable efforts by the government to control illegal logging.

One positive aspect of the tsunami response however, has been the way communities have come together in unprecedented ways. Before the tsunami, Aceh was involved in a civil war that pitted armed insurgents against the Indonesian military. It was an extended bloody battle that ended just eight months after the tsunami. Peace has indeed come to Aceh, and with the peace a new willingness of the people to cooperate with one another after years of suspicion and mistrust.

Jumani and Nadira, two workers on a village clean-up and restoration project, Samatiga, West Aceh, March 2008.

Thanks in part to aid received from the PC(USA), residents in villages like Kuala Bubon on the west coast of Aceh have recently been able to move into new homes that they helped design. In Kuala Bubon, the people chose to build over a lagoon, according to local custom. The women are especially proud of the houses because they were able to have their say in the arrangement of rooms for their families. They will tell anyone who cares to listen that the homes are a dream come true for them. To help raise funds to maintain the complex—and in order to not be dependent on outside funds—the villagers have set up a small ferry system to carry motorcycles and pedestrians across the river next to the lagoon.

Sadly, soon after the residents moved into the houses in January 2008, they were informed by the local government that USAID is building a road that will pass directly through the village. Twenty-two of the 118 new homes will be demolished, and a 15-foot high bridge will pass through the middle of the village, eliminating the need for the villagers’ ferry system (and their source of village income) as well as subjecting the remaining homes to the constant stream of traffic on the road high above their heads.

The villagers themselves have made it clear that they want “a home not a highway,” and have organized themselves, seeking an audience with the provincial governor and signing a petition to USAID asking that them to move the road north of the village. The people of surrounding villages up and down the coast have signed a statement of solidarity with the people of Kuala Bubon.

Homes in the village of Kuala Bubon, West Aceh. Photo by Setyo Dharmodjo, March 2008.

When I first heard about the possible destruction of this lovely new village, I was outraged. After three years in barracks, the people finally have been able to move into their dream homes. Now, after only a few months, they face homelessness once again. It seems to me that there is no small amount of absurdity in the fact that U.S. funds (primarily from generous church members, including the ELCA (Lutherans) and our own fellow Presbyterians) had paid for a good bit of the housing project, and now U.S. taxpayer funds would be used to tear it down.

While I agonized over the injustice of it and my fingers itched to call my senator back home and complain, calmer voices prevailed. Our partner organization here in Indonesia, the Emergency Unit of the Christian Foundation for Public Health (known as YEU), reassured me that progress was being made and asked that we all wait and see how far the villagers can make it on their own in solving the dilemma. Imagine the amount of pride they will have if they are able to defend themselves. After three years of living on handouts in borrowed quarters, it will mean more to them if they manage to prevent the road through their own efforts. In my opinion, the most remarkable aspect of the situation is how enthusiastic the people are to band together for something that they know is right, and that is their right to fight for.

Please join me in prayer for the people of Kuala Bubon, for their village and for their struggle to save their homes. And for patience for me in my over-eagerness to fix everything.

Sincerely,

The 2008 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 94