Devastation

I decided to leave six hours before my flight departure. The past two days people blocked the road to Surabaya, they marched expressing public dissatisfaction with the government slow action in handling compensation for damages caused by the mud disaster. I was nervous since yesterday since the trip was to be my first since the disaster broke two years ago. I heard many painful stories about the people and the commuters.

I was thinking to exercise Plan B: buy ticket to Jakarta from Malang then fly to Denpasar like last year. What a silly detour! So I decided to keep Plan A to challenge myself to be open to any change. I wasn't in rush. Also, it would be nice to experience a different route. Well, actually the decision came very late after a long negotiation with the taxi office. Although they’ve operated the business for some time now but every single day remains a mystery especially on the days when the mud explodes unpredictably.

I awoke when it’s still very dark, four o’clock. Adzan is loud from my room so I hardly missed the morning pray call. I just got up and started reading. I hadn’t finalized packing since I thought I had time in the morning. I was wrong. At six o’clock, Mama announced that her good friend from sports club wanted to see me and she’s on her way. Ah. I rushed taking bath and had been ready before six thirty. The life of orang Malang.

So for an hour Mama and I sat listening to the story of her family. Actually she came to hand me a bag of telur asin (salted eggs). It’s so nice of her. Before she came, I had time to write her a brief note asking help to write up her impression about being Mama’s close friends the past seven years. I was thinking to include hers in Mama’s living memoir. I still keep the plan from Mama although, like my friend’s suggestion, it’s better to involve her in the process. I need time before I come close to the format I want. When it’s time for Mama to ‘join in’, the manuscript has been ready more than 50% at least. That's my idea at the moment.

It’s funny. The last two weeks, I’m reading a fiction with Indian culture as background where a family business becomes the whole community business. When I sat with Mama’s friend so early this morning, I felt I was in the same situation where the community really cares about our life. It’s been years I don’t have ‘obligation’ to share my time without prior appointment. My life in Jakarta and Ubud now are pretty much isolated from the rest of the world. Especially now, as I travel frequently in and out Ubud I encourage my closed ones to make appointment to make sure I’m around, but then they thought I’m hiding something. In small town like Malang, we open our door for neighbors at all time. Like in India.

Anyway, the taxi came on time. The traffic was extra smooth. When we reached the area where the mud disaster happens, the driver suggested me to climb the dams to have a look at the sea of mud. I still had plenty of time. I'd never been before so I was devastated by the view from where I stood in the edge of the sea. Silence. No hope.

A motor-taxi (ojek) driver walked closer then we talked. He offered to take me to the middle of the sea to look further. I hesitated and decided not to go. We talked about the statistic. He worked in a shoes factory before. He told me about the hiking price of land like ten times before the disaster that many villagers could not afford to relocate themselves. How people sold their houses to junk collectors just before the mud sank it down. It’s interesting how people got the idea to strip off the house: door and window frames, metal stuffs, tiles, etc. They could collect some $600 a house. It’s better than losing it completely.

If I had all the time, I would like to stay longer. Another fellow driver joined the conversation. I observed both, they are nice persons. Really nice. I bought the CD he sells at $2. They got the movie from journalists who compiled footage about the disaster to be sold by the people. They also established a motor-taxi driver association (250 members) to take tourists around. Yea, the location has become a tourist destination. The people organize the parking and transport.

I waited three hours before my on-time flight to Denpasar departed. I thought of my nephew. I could have spent more time with him. He stood by my bedroom door in the morning observing me packing. It broke my heart.

Photo of the man (I forgot to ask his name) I talked with in Porong today.