REMINDERS OF A DEADLY DAY
By: Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia
It reminded me of the day I visited the Buchenwald Concentration Camp in Germany. I wanted to go, because of the historical nature of the site. But I felt like an intruder, like paparazzi, capitalizing on other people’s misfortune.
I took a driving tour of Banda Aceh the other day. We stopped at the rusting hulk of a hydro generating station, which looked entirely out-of-place in the middle of the residential neighbourhood. And that’s because it was out of place. This giant steel freighter, measuring close to the size of a football field, had been out in the Indian Ocean on December 26, 2004, doing what it had been doing for years, providing power to homes in Aceh. Then the powerful earthquake hit, followed by the resulting tsunami standing 30 meters tall. This massive wave picked up the hydro generating station and deposited it inland, 5 kilometers away. It landed upright, squashing 2 or 3 houses. The number varies depending on who you talk to, but walking around the great ship, you can clearly see the protruding remains of ceramic floors and brick walls. I don’t know if anyone was in those homes when this boat fell out of the sky. But it made me stop and ponder the enormity of what happened that fateful day.
What was it like for the people here? How in the world did they, could they react to seeing a 90 foot wave? I’ve heard stories. A young woman was with her grandparents. There was no way the elderly couple could outrun the water. This young woman had to make a split second decision. Stay, and die, with her grandparents. Or, run and possibly survive. She ran, and survived. But will always have in her mind, that image of looking back at her grandparents.
There’s another boat, a fishing boat this time that sits perched on the second storey of a house. The government has made it a monument. A concrete support now prevents it from falling in on the people who still live in the crumbling remains of what was a nice, suburban home. The plaque under the boat says the vessel saved 59 lives. The story goes that there were at least 59 people on the fishing boat, when it was picked up by the tsunami. I can’t even fathom the ride they must have endured. It must have felt like an eternity. Were there more people aboard? Did all of them make it, or did some get tossed overseas in what had to be the ultimate of scary roller coaster rides?
I have so many questions.
There are so many stories to tell. The journalist in me wants to ask. The daughter, sister, friend in me, wants to respect their dignity and their privacy. I am not sure that I am any closer to understanding what it is the Acehnese people went through that day almost four years ago. It’s virtually impossible to imagine. They experienced something not seen in a few generations. And although bruised and wounded, they are strong. They persevere. And they’ve earned my respect.
Information & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia
It reminded me of the day I visited the Buchenwald Concentration Camp in Germany. I wanted to go, because of the historical nature of the site. But I felt like an intruder, like paparazzi, capitalizing on other people’s misfortune.
I took a driving tour of Banda Aceh the other day. We stopped at the rusting hulk of a hydro generating station, which looked entirely out-of-place in the middle of the residential neighbourhood. And that’s because it was out of place. This giant steel freighter, measuring close to the size of a football field, had been out in the Indian Ocean on December 26, 2004, doing what it had been doing for years, providing power to homes in Aceh. Then the powerful earthquake hit, followed by the resulting tsunami standing 30 meters tall. This massive wave picked up the hydro generating station and deposited it inland, 5 kilometers away. It landed upright, squashing 2 or 3 houses. The number varies depending on who you talk to, but walking around the great ship, you can clearly see the protruding remains of ceramic floors and brick walls. I don’t know if anyone was in those homes when this boat fell out of the sky. But it made me stop and ponder the enormity of what happened that fateful day.
What was it like for the people here? How in the world did they, could they react to seeing a 90 foot wave? I’ve heard stories. A young woman was with her grandparents. There was no way the elderly couple could outrun the water. This young woman had to make a split second decision. Stay, and die, with her grandparents. Or, run and possibly survive. She ran, and survived. But will always have in her mind, that image of looking back at her grandparents.
There’s another boat, a fishing boat this time that sits perched on the second storey of a house. The government has made it a monument. A concrete support now prevents it from falling in on the people who still live in the crumbling remains of what was a nice, suburban home. The plaque under the boat says the vessel saved 59 lives. The story goes that there were at least 59 people on the fishing boat, when it was picked up by the tsunami. I can’t even fathom the ride they must have endured. It must have felt like an eternity. Were there more people aboard? Did all of them make it, or did some get tossed overseas in what had to be the ultimate of scary roller coaster rides?
I have so many questions.
There are so many stories to tell. The journalist in me wants to ask. The daughter, sister, friend in me, wants to respect their dignity and their privacy. I am not sure that I am any closer to understanding what it is the Acehnese people went through that day almost four years ago. It’s virtually impossible to imagine. They experienced something not seen in a few generations. And although bruised and wounded, they are strong. They persevere. And they’ve earned my respect.
posted by KB at 4:40 PM
1 Comments:
Always the consummate reporter with a story that needs to be told. I love reading your blog so please keep them coming. Your stories put so much of our petty problems into perspective and I find myself grateful for what we do have. The weather here is still warm with some rain today - the kind of day you would spend curled up with a book. I know you must be homesick but they need you there right now!! Sending hugs!!
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