Kathy Mueller

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Ibu Bule (Mrs. Foreigner)

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 20:57:00 +0000

I wish every Canadian who donated to the Tsunami Reconstruction Project had the opportunity to come here and see first hand the good their money has done.

I was in an Acehnese village recently, where I had the chance to sit down and chat, quite extensively with one family who has been helped by Canadian generosity. We talked about the tsunami, and their tears flowed, but before long everyone was smiling again. You see, Sulaiman and his wife Aizah are so happy with their new house. They’ve made great additions to it, and Aizah is known in the village for her composting ability; skills she was taught through Canadian Red Cross programs.

They love the fact Canadians have built a kindergarten, complete with some pretty colourful playground equipment, in their village. It means their two children, and the third who is on the way, can stay close to home and don’t have to travel to another community to begin their schooling.

The kids are simply adorable. I played with 3 year old Rahmati and 2 year old Rahmat, tickling them and playing peek-a-boo. When it came time to leave, they were waving madly, and blowing me kisses.

The following day, I passed through this same village again, and stopped at this family’s roadside store for some water. Aizah told me her son had been asking about me, wondering where Ibu Bule (Mrs. Foreigner) had gone and when was I coming back.

We, and I mean Canadians, have accomplished good things here. We helped rebuild lives and give hope for the future. I’ve said it before, I feel so fortunate to be here and to be on the receiving end of so many thank-you’s, from both parents and their young ones. The memories I am creating, well, they’re just priceless.

Emotions

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Wed, 23 Dec 2009 14:49:00 +0000

It’s an emotional time of year here.

December 26th marks five years since a tsunami came roaring in from the Indian Ocean, leaving in its wake, indescribable death and destruction. Thousands are gathering for a mass prayer here in Banda Aceh that morning. Many of my colleagues will attend, themselves survivors of that deadly day. Others will spend the day in quiet, solitary reflection, remembering with fondness the loved ones they lost.

But it’s also a time to look toward the future. Those who lived through that horrible day are marrying and forming new families. Babies are being born. Children are going to school. Fishermen are again working in the ocean. Markets are teeming with activity.

As Canadians, we can and should be proud of the role we have helped play in this recovery. We have provided hope for a better tomorrow. Not just in concrete terms, like building new houses, but also through something a lot less tangible. We have let the people of Indonesia know they are not alone. We may live on the other side of the world, but we all belong to the same massive global family. And in times of trouble, it is a family that pulls together and becomes even stronger.

The Canadian Red Cross family working here also became stronger over the past five years. We come from all walks of life; from Canada, Nepal, Bosnia, Bangladesh, and many cities and towns across Indonesia itself. There were close to 300 of us here at one point, all pulling together towards one common goal. But now those numbers are dwindling.

December 31st marks the official end of some of our programming in Indonesia. Many of our staff are moving on to new adventures and jobs, or returning home to families who miss them incredibly. It is a sad time. Close bonds have been forged, not only among staff, but also between us and the villagers. Residents in one community now say they live in the “Canadian village”, because they consider themselves part of the Canadian family. We are proud of what we have accomplished, knowing that our efforts will pay dividends in Aceh and Nias for generations to come.

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 15:32:00 +0000

Today, local Red Cross volunteers helped to distribute almost 25,000 kilograms of relief supplies to six of the most remote villages devastated by the earthquake. The distributed supplies include food, blankets, jerry cans, hygiene kits, plastic sheeting and cooking utensils. Some cried with relief. Others shook our hands. Others simply said thank you. They say they are humbled to know that strangers from around the world care about them.

It’s a story that will be repeated. Tomorrow the Red Cross volunteers will be back out again, distributing aid in 4 more villages.

Thursday October 8, 2009

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 14:35:00 +0000

Today a ship arrived, carrying equipment that the Red Cross will use to provide clean drinking water to thousands of earthquake victims. Shelter is also a priority. It’s believed that 200,000 houses were damaged during the quake. The Red Cross is in the process of providing 22,000 families with the tools and materials needed so they can repair their homes, or construct sturdier temporary shelters.

Thanks to the swift and generous response of donors from around the world, earthquake survivors in Padang are getting the supplies and support they need.

It’s going to be months before things return to normal here, particularly in the remote villages – but the Red Cross is committed to helping the people of Padang fully recover. We were here before the earthquake struck – responded immediately after – and will continue to help survivors rebuild their lives in the months ahead.

Wednesday October 7, 2009

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 14:21:00 +0000

Many people are aware Red Cross teams are working around the clock to get physical materials to earthquake victims in Padang, everything from tents and blankets to food and medicine. What you may not know it is the Red Cross is also helping people, particularly children, recover from the emotional trauma they have suffered.

Over the last few days, I’ve talked with parents who say their young ones haven’t spoken a word since the earthquake. Others have babies who now spend the night crying.

Today, a Red Cross team armed with puppets went to one village; their goal to get kids smiling and laughing again. It didn’t take long for the team to be surrounded by children of all ages. The puppets became oversized on their tiny little hands. And the village was soon filled with the laughter and squeals of high-pitched voices.

Mission accomplished.

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 14:36:00 +0000

I met up with a PMI search and rescue team today. We went to the site of a collapsed 3-storey building where crews were again working, for the fourth straight day, on finding a person buried beneath the rubble. Dozens of people gathered around, silently watching the very delicate work. The big claw of the heavy piece of equipment ripped away large pieces of debris, when rescue crews suddenly yelled “stop”. They had found her. A young woman estimated to be in her mid-20’s. Digging with their hands and small shovels, rescue crews, including volunteers from PMI, gently removed this earthquake victim and returned her to her family.

She was one of 28 people pulled from the wreckage at this site alone.

I ask the PMI volunteers why they want to be part of the search and rescue team. They tell me how happy they are when they pull someone alive from the debris. Even when a body is retrieved, they at least feel they are helping to provide some closure to the victim’s family.

The site itself is quiet now. The crowds that had gathered to watch are gone. The heavy equipment moved to another location. The rescue crews head back to their base to await their marching orders. There is little doubt they will again be pressed into action.

On the ground in Padang

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 14:36:00 +0000

It was my first full day in Padang, a city of about 900,000 hit hard by two massive earthquakes last week. I’ve set up base at the local office of the Indonesian Red Cross (PMI). Its a hub of activity.

Volunteers have been deployed from Jakarta to lend a hand. They’re handling the logistics of the relief effort, supporting medical aid, and trying desperately to reunite families.

A lot of these volunteers have been trained on various aspects of disaster risk reduction. They are the focal points of their communities, who know best what to do when a disaster strikes. These are the people who help evacuate others, who know the best route to take, and then come back to help rescue those who could not get out.

It’s this kind of training the Canadian Red Cross has been implementing in 43 villages in Aceh and Nias over the past five years. Although it’s regrettable that their new skills have to be used, it’s also rewarding to see that the training works.

Ring of Fire

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 14:34:00 +0000

I have been living for the past year in what is commonly known as the Ring of Fire. It’s an area of the world where the earth moves, a lot. I’ve been through almost two dozen earthquakes or tremors since arriving here in Banda Aceh last September.

It’s a little unnerving. Things literally start shaking; the penguin figurine on my desk, the blinds on the windows, the desk, the entire building. At home, earthquake alarms blare loudly. The louder the alarm, the more serious the tremor.

I was at work on Wednesday September 30th when the 7.6 magnitude earthquake rocked Padang in West Sumatra. It was the longest tremor I have felt, lasting about a minute or so. It was also the strongest. And our offices are located about 900 kilometers away from the epicenter. I can’t imagine what it would have been like for the people caught in the middle of it.

The Red Cross response was immediate. Local volunteers are helping to conduct search and resue, evacuate people to safer areas and provide first aid.

I am being deployed to Padang, with two other Canadian Red Cross workers to assist in the relief efforts.

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 15:27:00 +0000

I am confused. You see, I have recently returned home. Or at least I think I have. However, I also just left home, or at least what I also consider to be home.

Being an international aid worker, I’m not really sure where my home is anymore. Yes, I have a “home” in Ontario, and there’s no doubt about it, I love it. But I also have a “home” in Banda Aceh, Indonesia. I have actually spent more time here over the past year than I have at my Canadian home.

It sounds so cliché to say the world is now my home, but I guess in a way it’s true, especially in this day and age, when modern travel means I can pretty much get where I want to go within a couple of days.

While home on my R&R, I found myself referring to Indonesia as home. When in Indonesia, I refer to Canada as home. While I really enjoy living overseas, Canada has something that no other place in this world has: my family and really good friends.

It’s because of my mom, dad, brother, sister and gaggle of nieces and nephews that I had a stellar vacation. My brother Paul says he misses me more than he thought he would. It’s the kind of comment you’d expect from a younger brother. But I know what he means by it, and am extremely touched. Frankly, I think it’s one of those comments that I think I will remember for a long, long time.

My friends were also huge supporters of me being home; very enthusiastic to have me back. I don’t think I’ve ever been so popular. And it’s a reminder to me that when I do feel homesick, or lonely, that I am never really alone. I have all these wonderful people back home, ready to wrap me in their arms and give me the many hugs I have missed while away.

It feels strange in a way, to return to Indonesia, but it also feels comfortable, kind of like pulling on an old sock. I know this is the place I am meant to be at this time in my life. I am looking forward to seeing the friends I have made here. And maybe when it comes down to it, that’s how you define where home really is… wherever you feel loved and cared about.

TANTE (AUNT) KATHY

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 20:57:00 +0000

To a group of young children in a small Acehenese village in Indonesia, I am now known as Tante Kathy (Aunt Kathy). I recently visited Keude Unga, a village of 109 homes, to oversee the official handover of houses to residents. The day before the ceremony, during the set-up, I had a chance to spend quite a lot of time with a group of girls, all about 8-12 years of age. A few boys also ended up joining us after seeing all the fun we were having. They first honoured me, one by one, by grabbing my right hand with theirs, and touching it to their forehead. It's a respectful gesture for elders here in Aceh. Then we got into the fun stuff.

They wanted to know things like if we have strawberries in Canada, and could I please bring some the next time I visit. They wanted to know if I was married, and almost fell off their chairs when they heard I was 42 years old! I asked if they had boyfriends (knowing full well what their reaction would be), and they didn't disappoint. Cries of "ewwww" echoed all around, both from the girls and the boys!

They would all start talking at once, all of them trying to get my attention. Now, you have to remember they're talking to me in Bahasa, so, for the most part, I have no idea what they are saying. Thank goodness for my coworker Dewi who acted as translator! I taught them how to sing If You're Happy and You Know It. They reciprocated by bursting into Happy Birthday, even though it was no one's birthday.

We got our pictures taken together, before the children had to go on stage to practice a traditional dance they were going to perform in the ceremony. I'd catch their eye and they'd break into large smiles. They seemed so proud.

And then, before leaving for the day, they asked if they could call me Tante Kathy. I tell you, my heart just about burst. I am an aunt to 5 nieces and nephews back home in Canada and I love them all dearly. I also miss them terribly. But having these little ones wanting to be my friend, well, it reconfirmed for me that I made the right decision in coming here. I am part of a much larger family, an international family. I hope that I can have as good an impact on them as they are having on me. Although I don't know these little souls very well, perhaps years down the road they will remember me and smile. And the next time I visit Keude Unga, I will try to remember to bring some strawberries!

The Power of a Wave

mal.ecila@gmail.com (Alice Lam) — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 17:47:00 +0000

I was out in the field the other day, conducting interviews and gathering information for stories for the next edition of the newsletter that we produce here. It gets sent out monthly to the 49 villages where the Canadian Red Cross works.

I love being out in the field. That’s where I really come alive. There is such a different energy, compared to the office. I love meeting with the people who live in the small, rural villages. Thousands of families have already moved into the houses they have received from us, and are making them into homes. Curtains hang in the windows. Potted plants sit on the front steps. Freshly washed clothing hangs on the line, drying. In the rice fields, mothers, with their young ones in tow, separate the good seeds from the bad ones.

I can’t help but be affected by my interaction with these people. We don’t speak the same language, but somehow we manage short conversations, full of lots of smiles and giggles. It’s the children who have the most effect on me. I visited a couple of classrooms on my latest excursion, where students were learning all about proper hygiene and how to properly dispose of garbage.

They all look at me, wide-eyed when I walk into the room. Some are shy, and are hesitant to make eye contact with the “bule” (it’s pronounced ‘boolay’ and means foreigner in Bahasa). Some just stare, not sure what to make of me. Others chance a small smile. I very quickly work my way into the background as I don’t want to disrupt their class. I’m there as an observer. As quickly as their attention was focused on me, it’s gone, their enthusiasm for the lesson at hand once again taking over.

It’s awesome to see. They are so eager to learn; so eager to try. And they’re having fun doing it. The Environmental Health instructors from the Canadian Red Cross have them up out of their seats, dancing, and singing. Many eagerly raising their hands as high in the air as they can reach, hoping they’ll get picked to answer a question, and go home with a bucket full of goodies; towels, soap, toothbrushes and toothpaste.

At the end of the class, a group photo is taken, and I’m invited to join in. Then we go our separate ways. I may never see these children again. They will likely forget all about me. But I will remember them. Because as they walk away, they turn around, one last time and wave. It’s something that’s repeated as I drive through the villages. People recognize the Canadian Red Cross vehicle, and they smile. And they wave. It’s a small gesture, but it’s a great gift that leaves me feeling upbeat, inspired and grateful to be here. Ah, the power of a wave.

Handing over homes

noreply@blogger.com (jh) — Wed, 18 Mar 2009 20:15:00 +0000

It was just what I had been hoping for! A bright sunny day with just a few wispy clouds in the sky. It was February 24, 2009, the day the Canadian Red Cross was going to officially hand over 68 homes to villagers in Mata Ie, Calang.

I checked in early with the pilot to make sure nothing would delay the planes bringing our guests to the remote destination, and was given two thumbs up.

The troupe of young dancers was ready, outfitted in their brightest finery, waiting at the archway to the village for the delegation to arrive. Canadian Red Cross Secretary General Conrad Sauvé, and Canadian Ambassador, His Excellency John Holmes, arrived with Indonesian Red Cross (Palang Merah) and local government officials. Children from the village held on tightly to their puppets, anxious to deliver their show on proper hygiene to the crowd. The marble plaque was signed. A large red symbolic key handed over. The houses were blessed, and tours were given. The day ended with everyone sharing a lunch of goat curry and rice.

This day belonged to the villagers. You see, these people have been through quite the ordeal. Like hundreds of thousands of others, they survived the tsunami of December 26, 2004. Their village though was wiped out and had to be moved, four kilometers inland, further away from the Indian Ocean. Think about that; your entire community having to pick up and move to a new location. A neighbouring village came to the rescue, donating land on which they could settle. You know that old saying about what goes around comes around? Well, the villagers of Mata Ie passed on the graciousness they had received, and in turn, welcomed close to 100 villagers displaced from their own communities.

68 light green houses with the distinctive red roofs of the Canadian Red Cross now sit on these 26 hectares of land. More than 220 people call this village home. They’re proud of their homes. They’re excited about living in them. They can’t thank Canada enough for helping them out in their time of need. Because of that generosity, they haven’t had to worry about where or what they are going to live in. And that has allowed them the freedom to focus on earning a living. Many have returned to their lives as small business owners, farmers and fishermen. It’s a community that is on the verge of thriving once again.

The residents of Mata Ie were impressive in their efforts to make sure this event was a success. They got involved from the beginning, and celebrated long after we had left. And for me, it meant that all of the planning, all of the running around, all of the ‘waking up in the middle of the night’ worrying if it was all going to get done; it was all worth it.

Written by Kathy Mueller

REMEMBERING DECEMBER 26, 2004

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Mon, 05 Jan 2009 15:23:00 +0000

By: Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

During my three months here, I’ve had the chance to talk to many community members about what they remember of December 26, 2004. The day their world was ripped apart when a tsunami came crashing down on their villages.

Their stories are remarkably similar. A lot of confusion. People not believing the cries of their neighbours “Tsunami, tsunami!” Many trying to outrun the giant wave. Many not able to. Survivors talk about finally being able to return home, days later, to find water in their homes, up to the second storey. Others discover their dining tables, floating in the water, their abandoned rice dishes still sitting, undisturbed, on top.

Hundreds of thousands of Indonesians lost people they loved that day. Many lost their homes. They don’t forget, but they have to move on. They have to live.

Now, four years later, many have remarried and are living in new homes, many of them built by the Canadian Red Cross. They tell me they feel safe in these better-built structures. They tell me it’s a good environment in which to raise their children. They ask me to thank the thousands of Canadians who donated to help give them a brighter future.

It’s made me realize that, the world over, people are all the same. We all want the same things. To raise our families in a prosperous community, to live in a house that won’t fall when the earth beneath our feet starts to shake.

And although thousands of Indonesians will pause to reflect on December 26th, they know that their future is one filled with hope.

WHY WE’RE HERE

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 13:48:00 +0000

By: Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

I am so bursting with pride to be Canadian today.
You see, I’ve finally seen, up close, some of the nearly six thousand houses Canadian Red Cross is building for tsunami victims here in Indonesia.
I was so excited to take my first trip “into the field”, and as we neared the village of Kajhu, emotion welled up inside of me, and tears sprang to my eyes.

This is why we are here. This is why hundreds of Canadians have, over the years, given up their comfy lifestyles back home, quit their jobs and chosen to live thousands of kilometers away from their families and loved ones; to help restore some of the communities hardest hit by the 2004 tsunami; to see the smiles on moms, dads and kids who are now living in these multi-coloured homes with the distinguishing red roofs.

I met two young boys while visiting one sub-village. At first shy, they quickly warmed up to my camera, and were eager to show me their fish. We walked to the back of their home, to the rain water catchment basin, and there they pointed proudly to their fish, explaining that they’re being used to help keep the water clean.
I heard the wail of a little baby girl from behind the walls of another home, as her mother tried desperately to calm her. Cows, goats and chickens grazed for food in their yards. Men read the manuals they were given from the Red Cross on how best to look after their new homes.

And these truly are homes now. They’re not just houses. They reflect the characters of the people living inside. Curtains hang in the windows. Laundry hangs on the line. Potted plants welcome visitors at the front doors. Many owners are adding on extra rooms. A little shop, what Canadians would consider a variety store, has opened. This village is surging back to life.

The water here was six meters deep during the tsunami. SIX METERS! Think about that! It’s almost 20 feet high! Homes were literally swallowed up. But to see this regrowth, amid the crumbling ruins of what once were houses, is just amazing. To be fair, it’s not just Canadian Red Cross working here. Dozens of other humanitarian agencies are also working hard to give people a better life.

But I am Canadian. I am fiercely proud to be so. It’s heartwarming and so inspiring to see the rebirth. To know that the money I, and hundreds of thousands of other Canadians, donated to the Canadian Red Cross Tsunami Relief Fund immediately after that horrible day is being spent so well.

As I travel more of the world, it comes as no surprise to me to see Canadians so well regarded. We are doing good things. We don’t pat ourselves on the back often enough for a job well done. I think it’s about time we started. So, to all of those Canadians who dipped into their wallets, and broke open their piggy banks, to help the 700,000 people affected by the tsunami in Indonesia alone, kudos to you!

REMINDERS OF A DEADLY DAY

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 21:40:00 +0000

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.

HOW HOT IS TOO HOT?

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 12:24:00 +0000

By: Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

I have achieved somewhat of a milestone here in Indonesia. One month into my nine month mission, and I can now sleep, without the air conditioning on.

It’s very tropical and humid here in Banda Aceh. We’re just steps away from the equator. That means it’s hot. And therein lays the struggle.

Usually, it’s a battle between men and women to find a comfortable temperature. Men are always complaining the room is too hot. Women complain it’s too cold.

So, what happens when three women share an office, two of whom are Indonesian, the third, me, Canadian?

Tias and Farrah are used to this climate. They come to work dressed in sweaters, jackets and socks. I, on the other hand, am used to the Canadian climate, which as anyone living there knows, changes periodically. And I can’t say I’ve ever heard it referred to as being tropical.

So, I come to work every day as covered as I have to be in a Muslim country. And it turns out, all three of us are quickly wearing a path to the thermostat. We try to be as environmentally conscious as possible, but we also want to be comfortable. So, I’ll go and adjust the thermostat slightly. But a few hours later, when it’s again stifling in the office, I return to the thermostat, only to find someone else has also adjusted it. Once again I drop the temperature a degree or two, turn around and find my staff have now duct taped sheets of paper to the ceiling vents, blocking most of the cool air from even entering the room. (Red Green would be proud of the duct tape use).

So, I compensate, by moving the floor fan closer to my desk, and when the a/c dies with the main generator, about once a day, on goes the fan.

All of this is done in good humour of course. We laugh about it a lot. I’m not sure how we’re going to resolve it though. Maybe give it a few more months and I’ll be as acclimatized as they are. Then, won’t going back to Canada be a treat?

HOLDING ON FOR DEAR LIFE

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Tue, 07 Oct 2008 11:34:00 +0000

By: Kathy Mueller
Info & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

The title kind of describes how I was feeling for four days, recuperating from whatever nasty little bug I had picked up.

During that time, I did venture out one time, to go to the pharmacy. It was nighttime, and the city was alive. Motorbikes were everywhere, zipping in and out of traffic. Their headlights reminded me of fireflies dancing in the summer air.

Perched on many of these bikes are not one or two riders, but sometimes four, or five. Kids, young kids sitting on their parents lap, their tiny arms wrapped around their guardian’s waist.

But there isn’t any fear on their young faces. These children aren’t hanging on for dear life, like I would be in this Indonesian traffic. The children of Banda Aceh grow up on these bikes. It’s second nature to them, much like riding a bicycle is to many Canadian kids back home.

And although I love being on a motorcycle, the feel of the wind in my face, the feel of freedom, I think while here I will stick to vehicles of the four wheeled kind.

Sights, Sounds and Smells II

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 14:02:00 +0000

By: Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Manager
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

The other day I wrote mainly about the sights of Banda Aceh. But if the sights are all you see, you’re missing out on a lot of this coastal city.

Close your eyes and you’re awash in a symphony of sounds. The hum of the generator, working overtime to keep us somewhat cool in the oppressive heat. The whirl of the motorbikes and scooters as they weave their way in and out of traffic, and the honking of the cars as they swerve to avoid them. In this city, anything goes on the roads. Speed limits are a foreign concept, and driving lanes are just a suggestion.

At sunset and then again before dawn, the call to prayers at the local mosques, as the mainly Muslim population observes their daily prayers.

I was up early this morning, sitting on my balcony, taking in the breathtaking view of the mountains, enjoying the blissful silence. Then slowly, the birds began to wake, the crickets and roosters joining their chorus shortly after.

One sound I will be comfortable never hearing again is the shrill of the earthquake sensors. My house is equipped with the gadgets that will alert me to a tremor in time to get out. In the most earthquake prone zone in the world, it’s highly likely I will hear those alarms again, and in reality, I’m very thankful that they exist. For now though, I prefer the very annoying and seemingly never-ending buzz of my morning alarm clock.

WELCOME TO BANDA ACEH

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 15:17:00 +0000

I have survived my first weekend in Banda Aceh. It was very memorable, although not in the ways I had imagined. I had envisioned touring the city, walking through the fruit and vegetable markets, bartering with vendors, enjoying a few laughs along the way.

None of that happened though, because instead, I was lying flat on my back, in bed, staring at four walls, for four straight days. You see, somehow, despite all of my precautions, a bug managed to get hold of me and it laid me out flat. The last time I felt this bad, was in Sudan, when I alternated between goose bumps and a high fever, suffering from food poisoning.

My housemates, bless their souls, popped their heads in every once in a while, to make sure I was still alive. They picked me up some crackers and ginger ale, the two things I could manage to keep down.

And then, while lying all curled up one afternoon, the bed started shaking. Alarms started going off. Was it an earthquake? What did the security guy tell me to do? Why hadn’t I yet packed that emergency bag he had told me to have prepared? Outside I ran. Yes, it was an earthquake. A small one. My first Indonesian one, but undoubtedly not my last. On the positive side, at least I know the earthquake sensors on the house do work.

As for the parasite, it’s still lingering, but just barely.

Sights, Sounds and Smells

noreply@blogger.com (KB) — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 15:15:00 +0000

Kathy Mueller
Information & Community Outreach Delegate
Banda Aceh, Indonesia

It was a welcome I was unprepared for. Spectacular mountain ranges, stretching as far as the eye can see, on one side. Look the opposite way, and it’s a calm, vast expanse of water that greets you. It was that same expanse of water that became deadly almost four years ago, when a massive tsunami devastated shoreline communities. Reminders remain. One of my drivers lost his sister in the watery rage. Trees throughout the city are painted, much higher than my 5’9” stature, with a mark indicating how high the water got. I have been told about a freighter that still remains beached, several kilometers inland, picked up and carried by the monstrous wave. It will definitely be on my things-to-see list.

I am now into my second full day here in Banda Aceh. Still getting acclimatized, but meeting tons of wonderful people, both locals and ex-pats. And my Indonesian is already progressing. Though full of mistakes, it’s a great way to break the ice, and often results in lots of laughter.

I look forward to this being my home for the next nine months. There will be many things to get used to. Having roommates for the first time since my college days, a new culture, the tropical climate so unlike what we experience in Canada. But if the welcome I have received so far is an indication of what I can expect over the next few months, this posting will not only be memorable, but pleasurable.

Make sure you check back for regular updates!