The year 2014 marks the 10th year since a tsunami wiped out half the city of Banda Aceh, capital of Aceh in the Sumatran Island of Indonesia. At that time, I was based in Scotland, working on my thesis on reconstruction after disasters. I decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to follow up on the reconstruction efforts by the government as well as the local and international NGOs stationed there since the event.
After getting the necessary paperwork done, I boarded a flight with a close friend who had surprised me by telling me that she wanted to visit Aceh. We would spend the first few days sightseeing and visiting Sabang Island. We had rarely spent time together anymore, and I was glad that she was coming along for the trip.
Sabang Island
We arrived at the airport and immediately hired a tinted black taxi that took us to the ferry terminal. This was a minor mistake in terms of finances as if we had done more research, we would have known that a tuk-tuk would have sufficed for half the amount that we paid for. Tuk-tuks are plentiful in the city, and they were much cheaper compared to air-conditioned cars. Also, I felt much safer in an open-air tuk-tuk compared to a fully tinted vehicle.
The ferry ride was uneventful, albeit somewhat unsafe. The more expensive tickets had seat allocations in the air-conditioned compartments below. We were not sure if our tickets had seat allocations for these, but we made our way up to the top deck anyway. On the open-air deck above, escaping a fire or ferry capsizing would be faster, we thought. We made our way up the deck and found a ledge that we could rest on. I scanned my eyes around and noted that there were not enough life jackets available for the number of passengers on board.
In the middle of the deck, passengers boarded with their own rattan or plastic mats and laid them on the floor to lie on. In the corner, a shop sold coffee, snacks, and rattan mats that could be rented for the journey. The ride was a bumpy one. At times, the waves were so huge, water came crashing in and wetting us throughout the 1 and ½ hour journey to Sabang Island.
On arrival in Sabang Island, we stayed at Norma’s chalet. We read on Lonely Planet that Norma’s chalet is an institution. This was true. We truly enjoyed our stay there. Norma prepared lovely dinners every night for her guests, as well as visitors from the other chalets. The price of both the chalets by the water and the dinners were reasonable. We did not manage to get a chalet at the edge of the water as it was fully booked. We found out that returning guests book for months at a time. I made a mental note to myself to return in the dry season and book them way in advance!
As it was close to the rainy season in December, the waves were more powerful, which made snorkeling not as good as it usually is. Though we met many divers during our stay, I cannot comment on the quality of the dives as we did not do any ourselves. In the afternoons, heavy rains poured down on the atap roofs of the chalets. Often, we found ourselves having meals and just hanging out at a nearby café.
During the thunderstorm, a tree had fallen, blocking the only road to the jetty. This happened on the day of our expected departure, and we were almost stranded on the island. However, the locals managed to clear the tree away. Soon after, we headed back to the mainland.
Back in Banda Aceh
In Banda Aceh, we checked in at the Hotel S, where I continued to stay for another week. My friend remained for a couple of days. We spent the time visiting the tourist spots that emerged following the tsunami in 2004. The most well known of these are the Tsunami Museum and the boat that got swept over a house.
We did not have trouble finding these places, as every single tuk-tuk driver offered to drive us around and take us on the trail of the tsunami. I could not help but ask them personal questions, such as the effects the tsunami had on their lives. They were more than willing to share their stories.
A lot of them have lost at least one loved one in the tsunami. On record, they were officially missing but presumed dead. A total of 125,000 people perished in the tsunami in Aceh. To date, many bodies have not been identified and may never be. A visit to one of the mass graves in the city broke my heart with the sight of lone figures chanting prayers and crying as they knelt alongside unmarked graves.
Be that as it may, throughout my stay in Banda Aceh and my meetings with the locals, I came to learn of something quite surprising to hear in person. I had read about it while I was doing my research. Despite so much loss, many of the tsunami survivors and local people mentioned that they felt the tsunami was a blessing in disguise. It brought an end to the years of insurgency in the previously unstable Aceh! A couch-surfer turned friend said that the sound of bombs and gunfire could be heard almost daily. It was impossible to leave the house except to head straight to school and back home. Houses were intact, but they were like prisons.
Further questions invoked blunt answers. Yes, the tsunami killed many people, but many people died daily during the insurgency. At least we know that the tsunami is over.
Learning from ex-volunteers and couchsurfers
Before leaving for Aceh, I had made contact with a couch-surfer who was working with the Indonesian Red Cross (IRC). In the week leading up to the 10th commemoration of the tsunami, the event organizers had scheduled an educational exhibition. This large-scale event was held in the city.
Here, various booths by non-profit organizations were set up to educate visitors on the reconstruction efforts on the city, as well as to introduce future plans for building a safer Aceh. We agreed to meet up at the booth mended by the IRC.
Aisyah was kind, friendly, and exactly as I expected. Her colleagues, who were also friendly and nice, offered me lunch. As Aisyah was busy preparing for the exhibition, I started talking to some of her other visitors. One of them was a Canadian friend of hers that she had met when they volunteered together following the tsunami back in 2004. They had not met for ten years!
This friend of hers, who is now a practicing doctor, quickly proved to be indispensable for the next couple of weeks. I was a naïve architectural post-graduate, carrying out my research and study of the reconstruction efforts in a city foreign to me. He played the role of a highly enthusiastic research assistant going down memory lane as we visited the places that were most affected by the tsunami.
Throughout, the Doc provided me with valuable input and really opened my eyes to the realities of the effects of the disaster. I listened in shock as he relayed the stories from 2004 when he just landed in Banda Aceh, two weeks after the tsunami, as an eager young medical student.
I remember thinking how amusing it was to witness this young doctor recalling memories as if it happened only yesterday. Doc had brought with him photographs, memorabilia, and even Acehnese music that he had collected from way back then. It was as if he was just picking up from where he had left off.
An unexpected Christmas
It was Christmas Eve on the day that we met. Doc asked if I had anything planned for Christmas, and I replied, none. I had expected to be in the hotel that night, going through my research plans. He said that he was meeting up with some ex-volunteers who were stationed with various NGOs during the tsunami, and he invited me to join. I accepted.
Soon, I found myself in the home of a generous Acehnese couple who were and continue to work for the NGOs. This couple would, later in the week, show me the traditional Acehnese house that belonged to their mother. It was a beautiful red timber structure situated in a pristine little village known for its preservation of Acehnese houses.
That evening, I met another wonderful American woman in her sixties who had worked with the IT unit to reconnect Aceh to the rest of the world in the tsunami aftermath. This time P had brought along her psychologist husband, with whom I quickly found myself to be deep in conversation.
Later in the evening, more ex-volunteers started to arrive. I was invited to stay for Christmas Eve. We had food, played games, and had serious discussions.
That night, if somebody were to glance in and see this group of multi-nationalities, they would have thought that we were old friends catching up.
On the surface, that was true. But, amidst this group of ex-volunteers, there was I looking in on these people, knowing. I knew that at one point in time, they had decided to drop everything in their lives, to place their needs and comforts below others, and to offer sincere help to the people in despair. I felt so much respect as I listened to their stories.
This was one of my best Christmas yet.
New Year
Other than Aisyah, I had also contacted another couch-surfer in Banda Aceh. I asked if he was available to show me around his city and showed me around, he did! Di was the epitome of the spirit on which couch-surfing was built upon. In hindsight, truly understanding and accepting Aceh for what it is would not have been possible without Di. The Doc, Di, and I hung out often. Through him, we met other couch-surfers, and our group of friends, including Aisyah, quickly grew.
On weekends and in between the study, we went to Lampuuk Beach and lingered to watch the sunset. The sunsets on Lampuuk Beach were spectacular. There, I enjoyed filling my tummy with a simple meal of grilled fish, rice, and coconut water. We sat in the open huts where our meals were served.
We also swam in a river, picnicked, hung out in coffee shops, and even went karaoke. We found out that Doc was keen on fishing, and I found myself spending the whole of one fine day on a fishing boat, learning the local way of catching fish from a local fisherman.
As we spent days working in coffee shops, I was slightly surprised to discover that most times, I was the only female in a coffee shop packed full of people. I learned from Di that in Aceh, it is unusual for women to be hanging out in public.
In my fun times with my new and open-minded friends, I had forgotten that this was still a very conservative country. Aceh is the most Islamic state in Indonesia. Here, women rarely leave the house with uncovered heads. As a sign of respect, I had covered my head for the whole time that I was there.
Experiencing the Islamic influence
Within the group, we made friends with a happy-go-lucky woman called Shima, who was a professor at the local Islamic university. She invited the Doc and me to speak to her students about my tsunami research and his volunteering experiences. I found her to be an open-minded and culturally well-educated person who, naturally, wanted her students to be open and accepting of other cultures.
For New Year’s Eve, Shima had invited the group of us to a barbecue at her house, where she lived with her parents, her brother, and his young family. Despite not speaking much English, her family was very kind and welcoming to us. I learned that Shima sometimes opens her home to couch-surfers.
As it was getting late, Shima informed us that we would have to leave her house by 11PM. The local Islamic council had set out a ruling that banned any New Year’s celebrations. I secretly thought myself foolish for expecting fireworks that night.
Doc and I said our thank yous and goodbyes and went back to the hotel, which was close to the city center and very accessible to the places that I wanted to visit.
After dropping us off, Di joined us for a late meal of satay near the hotel. At midnight, Doc, Di, and I quietly wished each other a Happy New Year, and Di left shortly after. Following Doc’s idea, we proceeded up to the rooftop of the hotel to watch the city below us.
A few minutes later, we witnessed a group of men in religious attire riding along on their motorbikes and carrying loudspeakers. Some of them carried banners citing religious quotations banning the celebrations, urging the people sitting in the food stalls to return home.
I left Banda Aceh a few days after, and Doc traveled south to Medan.
Post-trip Crisis
About a week after I had arrived back in Scotland, I received disturbing news from the Doc.
Shima, the professor from the local Islamic university, had gotten into hot soup with the local religious authorities for organizing a study trip for her students to visit a local church. She had wanted her students to ask questions and be open to other religions.
This visit caused her to receive serious lash backs from the university. She was suspended from duty. I was saddened to hear that she and her family had also received death threats and had to go into hiding.
I had offered to help in any way that I could, and so did the Doc. But, days after the incident, I was relieved to hear that Shima was being supported by several prominent women organizations and was currently doing well.
I have yet to follow up with her.
Reflections
I spent years in university studying and listening to stories about Aceh and about how the tsunami wiped out a majority of the city, changing the lives of hundreds of thousands of people in an instant. I spent those years looking in from the outside, meticulously examining what could go wrong in the disaster recovery and reconstruction process.
When I went to Aceh, I arrived there as an overconfident architectural post-graduate who had done a year of research on the subject and was finally able to travel to the site. Aceh, to me, was nothing more than a Syariah-ruled, heavily religious state that once witnessed the worst natural destruction known to us – 250,000 people dead or missing.
This trip allowed me to hear firsthand these stories and the personal struggles of the people who became my friends. It brought me a different meaning to Aceh. Nowadays, when someone mentions Aceh, I no longer think tsunami. Instead, I think of good coffee, good times, good fun, good people, and good friends.
I would return in a heartbeat. You would find us in a karaoke club, singing our hearts out.
For the safety and privacy of my friends, names have been changed, but everything else is accurate. We did sing like no %$^# was given.
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