... which means carving up buffaloes for distribution to the poor and to family & friends...
what a spectacle....
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=53531&id=543196685&l=cb2bdc7d84
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Simeulue road trip
Guess what? It’s only one week til I go on holidays. Exactly one week
from now, I will be sitting on a plane to Singapore. Yah! I have about 6
hours between landing in Medan and leaving for Singapore, hopefully
enough time to get a hair cut (so I look half decent for this wedding)
and to buy some warm clothes! I need gloves, scarves, thermals, socks
and comfy closed shoes. Not to mention maybe a nicer outfit for this
wedding…
Being in the field like this, with little to do at night, provides me with ample opportunity to regularly update my blog.
Last
weekend we took a road trip to a little place called Sibigo, aka Batu
Ragi. It’s a trip that’s been long in the planning – we’ve been meaning
to go there for about a year! It’s about 4 hours drive on the other side
of the island to Salang – heading north-west from Sinabang on the east
coast road rather than the west coast road. There’s only one road around
the island, and I don’t even know if you can make it all the way
around. The north-western tip of the island is apparently impassable at
the best of times, particularly in the rainy season.
Which it definitely is at the moment! This last few days has seen almost constant rain all through the day and night. Simeulue seems to be constantly wet anyway, but we’ve had downpour after heavy downpour here over the last week. It’s crazy! Thank goodness it finishes by January (apparently). That will help the project a lot. Luckily we had enough of a break in the rain this afternoon to participate in a game of volleyball with the local lads (and one other lovely lady). It was good fun, although I felt a bit crap at the game, especially compared to the guys who are all extremely athletic and can jump a metre in the air to spike (local version: smash) the ball. Still, it was good to finally get some exercise here in Salang. I noticed that the neighbours also have a table tennis table, and I brought my Frisbee too, so that will keep me busy.
Anyway back to the story: road trip to Batu Ragi. Back during the time when Steph and Jon were still here, we’d talked a few times about making a trip to Batu Ragi, the location of the field office of Norwegian Red Cross, where my friend and fellow ex-pat Shir Shar works. He’s another WatSan delegate on Simeulue, and is a nice Afghani fellow who has a project up there building community latrines and capturing spring water supplies for a number of villages on the opposite side of the island. He spends as much if not more time in the field than me – and stays every second weekend there – in an equally isolated little town on the water.
Last weekend at Lugu, we were discussing our various weekend plans and once again this one came up. So finally we decided to do it the following weekend. Why not? We were all free! So, late Saturday morning after a lovely German-style brekkie at Lugu, Chigusa, Daniela, Anna, ShirShar and myself set off in the NRC landcruiser to Batu Ragi.
The drive itself is one of contrasts. Beautiful coastal scenery; the now dead and rocky coral, which was exposed when the 2004 earthquake tipped the island up; the mangroves hugging the shore, little re-forestation projects here and there, designed to help them recolonise and buffer the shoreline from future tsunamis; the hilly terrain with its beautiful untouched rainforest. Scattered in between the forest are little villages, green rice padis with their new shoots interspersed with empty ones or those underwater, or even disused padis that are now only the playground for wallowing buffaloes. And then you drive over the next hill and out come the gasps of horror, or amazement, or both, from everyone as we see, yet again, rows and rows of ‘kebun sawit’ – palm plantations, stretching as far as the eye can see. Last time I went on this
road
– around one year ago – I was amazed by it. The destruction is now at a
catastrophic level, with more than double the area cleared. It’s really
sad. Unfortunately its providing the community with a means of income
but at the same time destroying this beautiful island. At the moment the
price of palm oil is apparently very low. Maybe this will be the
island’s rainforests’ saving grace?
After about a 4 hour drive, we arrived. Batu Ragi is a beautiful little place, right on a now-disused harbour. When you stand on the jetty, where the local kids jump into the water for an afternoon dip (which we also did), there are four identically sized, identically spaced islands spanning the horizon between two peninsulas. It really is a beautiful place to while away some time with a book.
The NRC compound may have once been a nice little place, but clearly only men live there! It’s pretty grubby. Its staff accommodation shelters are currently being dismantled as they downsize their operations, and move next to the PMI (Indo Red Cross) and Government Water Supply Company offices. Not far up the road is another little town (whose name escapes me at the moment) on another bay, where people take the local ferry, called a “Robin” – named after the motor it uses. The ferry is basically a motorised wooden canoe! It has a couple of nice waterside warungs (local restaurants), so we watched the sunset over the water before heading back to the compound.
The
following day we took a boat out to one of the islands. It was
interesting to see, as we approached, that the four islands were in fact
very distinct from each other and different in size, shape and
composition. The island we visited was beautiful, with a long, white
sandy beach – and I’m totally bragging when I say all of the outlying
islands around Simeulue are like this! Ahhh nothing like living in a
little tropical island….
The snorkelling was beautiful and we spent the next few hours exploring the coral reef surrounding the island. The coral, as in most locations around Simeulue, was dead or exposed in some areas, but it was unique in this case because it was arranged in hundreds of canyons extending outwards from the island, creating
havens
for so many fish - many more species than I’d seen in other locations
around Simeulue (like Pulau Siumat, where we normally go). Hence it was
really interesting to snorkel around this island and discover what it
had to offer.
So we finally made our road trip to Sibigo. It was worth it too, and we had some great company. I really enjoy spending time with the other expats on Simeulue; they are such a wide variety of fun people with such different interests, and coming from so many far flung and different countries, it makes for an interesting group of friends.
Next weekend will be a long weekend, because on Monday (8th Dec) it’s Idul Aha, or the Hajj. Perfect for me to have enough time to pack! And just for something different, we also plan to attend a buffalo slaughtering ceremony. During Islamic celebrations people jointly buy buffaloes, get them butchered, share some with the poor, and then cook up their portions in a big feast. We plan to go along and witness it, and then buy some buffalo meat to make a barbeque. A bit of a pre-Christmas Christmas dinner, so to speak. Something else to look forward to … hope I can keep my breakfast down :)
Being in the field like this, with little to do at night, provides me with ample opportunity to regularly update my blog.
Last
weekend we took a road trip to a little place called Sibigo, aka Batu
Ragi. It’s a trip that’s been long in the planning – we’ve been meaning
to go there for about a year! It’s about 4 hours drive on the other side
of the island to Salang – heading north-west from Sinabang on the east
coast road rather than the west coast road. There’s only one road around
the island, and I don’t even know if you can make it all the way
around. The north-western tip of the island is apparently impassable at
the best of times, particularly in the rainy season.Which it definitely is at the moment! This last few days has seen almost constant rain all through the day and night. Simeulue seems to be constantly wet anyway, but we’ve had downpour after heavy downpour here over the last week. It’s crazy! Thank goodness it finishes by January (apparently). That will help the project a lot. Luckily we had enough of a break in the rain this afternoon to participate in a game of volleyball with the local lads (and one other lovely lady). It was good fun, although I felt a bit crap at the game, especially compared to the guys who are all extremely athletic and can jump a metre in the air to spike (local version: smash) the ball. Still, it was good to finally get some exercise here in Salang. I noticed that the neighbours also have a table tennis table, and I brought my Frisbee too, so that will keep me busy.
Anyway back to the story: road trip to Batu Ragi. Back during the time when Steph and Jon were still here, we’d talked a few times about making a trip to Batu Ragi, the location of the field office of Norwegian Red Cross, where my friend and fellow ex-pat Shir Shar works. He’s another WatSan delegate on Simeulue, and is a nice Afghani fellow who has a project up there building community latrines and capturing spring water supplies for a number of villages on the opposite side of the island. He spends as much if not more time in the field than me – and stays every second weekend there – in an equally isolated little town on the water.
Last weekend at Lugu, we were discussing our various weekend plans and once again this one came up. So finally we decided to do it the following weekend. Why not? We were all free! So, late Saturday morning after a lovely German-style brekkie at Lugu, Chigusa, Daniela, Anna, ShirShar and myself set off in the NRC landcruiser to Batu Ragi.
The drive itself is one of contrasts. Beautiful coastal scenery; the now dead and rocky coral, which was exposed when the 2004 earthquake tipped the island up; the mangroves hugging the shore, little re-forestation projects here and there, designed to help them recolonise and buffer the shoreline from future tsunamis; the hilly terrain with its beautiful untouched rainforest. Scattered in between the forest are little villages, green rice padis with their new shoots interspersed with empty ones or those underwater, or even disused padis that are now only the playground for wallowing buffaloes. And then you drive over the next hill and out come the gasps of horror, or amazement, or both, from everyone as we see, yet again, rows and rows of ‘kebun sawit’ – palm plantations, stretching as far as the eye can see. Last time I went on this
road
– around one year ago – I was amazed by it. The destruction is now at a
catastrophic level, with more than double the area cleared. It’s really
sad. Unfortunately its providing the community with a means of income
but at the same time destroying this beautiful island. At the moment the
price of palm oil is apparently very low. Maybe this will be the
island’s rainforests’ saving grace?After about a 4 hour drive, we arrived. Batu Ragi is a beautiful little place, right on a now-disused harbour. When you stand on the jetty, where the local kids jump into the water for an afternoon dip (which we also did), there are four identically sized, identically spaced islands spanning the horizon between two peninsulas. It really is a beautiful place to while away some time with a book.
The NRC compound may have once been a nice little place, but clearly only men live there! It’s pretty grubby. Its staff accommodation shelters are currently being dismantled as they downsize their operations, and move next to the PMI (Indo Red Cross) and Government Water Supply Company offices. Not far up the road is another little town (whose name escapes me at the moment) on another bay, where people take the local ferry, called a “Robin” – named after the motor it uses. The ferry is basically a motorised wooden canoe! It has a couple of nice waterside warungs (local restaurants), so we watched the sunset over the water before heading back to the compound.
The
following day we took a boat out to one of the islands. It was
interesting to see, as we approached, that the four islands were in fact
very distinct from each other and different in size, shape and
composition. The island we visited was beautiful, with a long, white
sandy beach – and I’m totally bragging when I say all of the outlying
islands around Simeulue are like this! Ahhh nothing like living in a
little tropical island….The snorkelling was beautiful and we spent the next few hours exploring the coral reef surrounding the island. The coral, as in most locations around Simeulue, was dead or exposed in some areas, but it was unique in this case because it was arranged in hundreds of canyons extending outwards from the island, creating
havens
for so many fish - many more species than I’d seen in other locations
around Simeulue (like Pulau Siumat, where we normally go). Hence it was
really interesting to snorkel around this island and discover what it
had to offer.So we finally made our road trip to Sibigo. It was worth it too, and we had some great company. I really enjoy spending time with the other expats on Simeulue; they are such a wide variety of fun people with such different interests, and coming from so many far flung and different countries, it makes for an interesting group of friends.
Next weekend will be a long weekend, because on Monday (8th Dec) it’s Idul Aha, or the Hajj. Perfect for me to have enough time to pack! And just for something different, we also plan to attend a buffalo slaughtering ceremony. During Islamic celebrations people jointly buy buffaloes, get them butchered, share some with the poor, and then cook up their portions in a big feast. We plan to go along and witness it, and then buy some buffalo meat to make a barbeque. A bit of a pre-Christmas Christmas dinner, so to speak. Something else to look forward to … hope I can keep my breakfast down :)
Friday, November 28, 2008
Musings from an office armchair
So, it’s 8:17pm and I’m sitting on the faded, dirty, blue &
yellow-checked couch in my field office in Tameng. The fan is humming
away in my direction; it’s pretty humid in here. I can hear big drops of
rain smattering on the roof, and the kids a few houses up are jamming.
There’s a couple of guitars and a vocalist, and it’s nice to have some
background noise. I enjoy hearing them try to pull together their songs,
and after a couple of nights here I’m recognising familiar tunes. I’m
all alone in our little wooden office, apart from our security guard
sitting out the front playing with his phone and humming along to the
melody. I think they’re his kids jamming over there!
I recently packed up and moved my bed here, so I could give more room to the guys in the guesthouse – about ten of them squeezed into two rooms of bunk beds, while I had one room all to myself. But then we got a new female PMI volunteer who occupies the “girls’ room” and for a month we have a female English teacher staying with us, so that plan went out the window. But the benefits of being here include not being kept awake by night owls, or my engineer’s distinctive snoring, plus the water quality is terrible in base camp – here, about 5km up the road, it’s lovely and clear. It’s also easier for me to cook my own food here, without the crowded kitchen. I’ve got my little gas stove, microwave and a fridge, so I’m all set.
I’ve taken to bringing and cooking my own food, because there are so many freeloaders in our midst who don’t pay for the food provided by the staff – leaving the costs to me or them. Plus I don’t want to eat rice, fried fish, chilli and eggs 3 times a day! Most of the food cooked by our Pembantu (housekeeper), Risam, in typical Indonesian fashion, is heavy on the oil. By cooking my own food, I can choose what I eat as well as what’s in it. The staff find my food kinda strange, but every now and then one of them gets up the courage to try it! They just can’t fathom why I don’t eat rice with every meal J
The TV is at the guesthouse, as is all the company. But for now I’m content on my own, able to read my book or let the contents of my brain spill out onto the screen in relative peace and quiet.
The office itself is kinda crappy. It’s ok to work in during the day, with the windows open and sunlight streaming in. I like the fact that it’s wooden, and airy, and has a lot of open space. But the mossies get in too easily! Which is not such a good thing if you’re sleeping without a mosquito net. Unfortunately PLN (the local electricity supplier) hasn’t got their shit together (normal) and we use the noisy generator approximately 30% of the day. We go through a shitload of fuel.
It’s also pretty grubby. The bathroom out the back is all concrete, and while totally fine for having your mandi (the water that you haul out of the well with a broken old bucket is certainly much cleaner than at the base camp!), as soon as you step out of it into the back room, the feel of dirt on the bottom of your feet is rather disconcerting… as for when you use the latrine attached to the back of the house. Sponsored by ARC, of course. But this is the norm. None of our Australian luxury. It’s definitely a liveable place; it just needs a good scrub!
The rain has just become heavier, and sounds a lot more like the downpours I’m used to here in Simeulue. I wish I could hear it properly – last week I came down with a cold and subsequently an ear infection, and then I got a perforated ear drum when I flew from Medan to Simeulue, so I’m currently almost deaf in my right ear. It’s driving me crazy! Not much I can do about it til the drugs kick in and solve this little problem. It was kinda strange going to the Sinabang Rumah Sakit Umum – Simeulue general hospital – and having an x-ray of my head to determine if I had sinusitis! Still, I hope it rights itself before I fly out of here on the 10th December for my Christmas holidays.
I recently packed up and moved my bed here, so I could give more room to the guys in the guesthouse – about ten of them squeezed into two rooms of bunk beds, while I had one room all to myself. But then we got a new female PMI volunteer who occupies the “girls’ room” and for a month we have a female English teacher staying with us, so that plan went out the window. But the benefits of being here include not being kept awake by night owls, or my engineer’s distinctive snoring, plus the water quality is terrible in base camp – here, about 5km up the road, it’s lovely and clear. It’s also easier for me to cook my own food here, without the crowded kitchen. I’ve got my little gas stove, microwave and a fridge, so I’m all set.
I’ve taken to bringing and cooking my own food, because there are so many freeloaders in our midst who don’t pay for the food provided by the staff – leaving the costs to me or them. Plus I don’t want to eat rice, fried fish, chilli and eggs 3 times a day! Most of the food cooked by our Pembantu (housekeeper), Risam, in typical Indonesian fashion, is heavy on the oil. By cooking my own food, I can choose what I eat as well as what’s in it. The staff find my food kinda strange, but every now and then one of them gets up the courage to try it! They just can’t fathom why I don’t eat rice with every meal J
The TV is at the guesthouse, as is all the company. But for now I’m content on my own, able to read my book or let the contents of my brain spill out onto the screen in relative peace and quiet.
The office itself is kinda crappy. It’s ok to work in during the day, with the windows open and sunlight streaming in. I like the fact that it’s wooden, and airy, and has a lot of open space. But the mossies get in too easily! Which is not such a good thing if you’re sleeping without a mosquito net. Unfortunately PLN (the local electricity supplier) hasn’t got their shit together (normal) and we use the noisy generator approximately 30% of the day. We go through a shitload of fuel.
It’s also pretty grubby. The bathroom out the back is all concrete, and while totally fine for having your mandi (the water that you haul out of the well with a broken old bucket is certainly much cleaner than at the base camp!), as soon as you step out of it into the back room, the feel of dirt on the bottom of your feet is rather disconcerting… as for when you use the latrine attached to the back of the house. Sponsored by ARC, of course. But this is the norm. None of our Australian luxury. It’s definitely a liveable place; it just needs a good scrub!
The rain has just become heavier, and sounds a lot more like the downpours I’m used to here in Simeulue. I wish I could hear it properly – last week I came down with a cold and subsequently an ear infection, and then I got a perforated ear drum when I flew from Medan to Simeulue, so I’m currently almost deaf in my right ear. It’s driving me crazy! Not much I can do about it til the drugs kick in and solve this little problem. It was kinda strange going to the Sinabang Rumah Sakit Umum – Simeulue general hospital – and having an x-ray of my head to determine if I had sinusitis! Still, I hope it rights itself before I fly out of here on the 10th December for my Christmas holidays.
I’m getting excited about these holidays... only two weeks to go! I fly to Glasgow via Doha and London for the wedding of two friends who met and worked here in Simeulue. One is an Australian-adopted Canadian, the other a pom. They are getting married in what sounds like a beautiful little corner of Argyll in Scotland, overlooking a beautiful Loch. I’m not looking forward to the cold though! So far I’ve managed to get hold of a couple of warm jackets, I have a beanie and scarf, but that’s it. I need to get my hands on some gloves, thick socks, a pair of boots and definitely some thermals! Those might have to wait though – I am yet to see thermals in Indonesia! It’s definitely going to be a shock.
I’ve managed to track down a whole bunch of people living in England that I hope to catch up with. Not difficult though – name one Australian who doesn’t know at least a handful of people living in London! I’ve already planned to catch up with Lisa and Dave, two friends from Uni, and housesit their place while they’re away over Xmas. A Cameroonian friend, Zul, lives in Bournemouth (south west of London) so I’ll cruise down there to see him. Another friend from uni, Rach, and I will then be heading to Edinburgh for their big New Year’s celebrations, which should be rad. So, along with a bunch of other crew living in and around London, plenty of good times to look forward to!
Now to just get this work thing sorted …
Memories of Liberia...
I’ve just got off the phone to my friend Roland in Harper, Maryland
County, Liberia, with whom I worked in 2006, for ICRC. He has been
asking me for new uniforms for Jacqui Football Club, the team of kids
that I sponsor and who – bless em! – named their team after me. Just
gotta get to a bank in Medan that has the right facilities to send the
money. It was so great to speak to him. I found out that one of the
other lovely security guards who I came to know and love was married
recently, and another one is engaged to be married to a guy from
Monrovia. I really do miss those guys. I need to get back there to see
how Liberia and my friends are “comin’ on,” as they would say. Yeah-o, I
miss Liberia-o!
I was reading The Age’s Good Weekend newspaper last night – a gift from a visiting National Office colleague – and it featured a photographic exhibition of public servants’ offices from around the world. On the second page was a photo of a Major Adolph Delaney, who works for the traffic police at the Liberian National Police HQ in Monrovia. In the photograph he is sitting at a simple desk with piles of paperwork, (apparently) working. On the wall are examples of traffic signs, there’s an old bicycle balancing in the corner, and a large, beautifully manicured blackboard with a drawing of a traffic accident in white chalk. Specially prepared for the photo, I’d say.
What is even more interesting is on the left side of the board, it reads: “Verse for today: in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made. St John 1-1:3." Yep, typical religion worming its way into everything, even the office of the traffic police!
The caption of the photo reads “Traffic accident victims are sometimes willing to pay a little extra if Delaney’s department quickly draws up a favourable report to present to a judge.” Ha! Sounds like Liberia to me.
I was reading The Age’s Good Weekend newspaper last night – a gift from a visiting National Office colleague – and it featured a photographic exhibition of public servants’ offices from around the world. On the second page was a photo of a Major Adolph Delaney, who works for the traffic police at the Liberian National Police HQ in Monrovia. In the photograph he is sitting at a simple desk with piles of paperwork, (apparently) working. On the wall are examples of traffic signs, there’s an old bicycle balancing in the corner, and a large, beautifully manicured blackboard with a drawing of a traffic accident in white chalk. Specially prepared for the photo, I’d say.
What is even more interesting is on the left side of the board, it reads: “Verse for today: in the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made. St John 1-1:3." Yep, typical religion worming its way into everything, even the office of the traffic police!
The caption of the photo reads “Traffic accident victims are sometimes willing to pay a little extra if Delaney’s department quickly draws up a favourable report to present to a judge.” Ha! Sounds like Liberia to me.
Friday, November 21, 2008
I always seem to be complaining in this blog.
Why is that?
Oh well, too bad.
I’m sick at the moment. And I’m not very good at it. I become a bit depressed when I’m sick, because I hate not being able to do what I normally do, and from feeling like people think I’m faking it when I take time off work (in this case from “overdoing the partying in Banda” – which I must say is not true. I had a fairly tame party on Sat night, which included shooting fireworks out the front and accidentally into the mosque across the road, plus fabulous dancing until the wee hours. Then there was a bit of a late one on Monday night with the boss and his barbeque before my early morning flight to Medan. But that’s it. I swear). After getting back to Simeulue I found myself with a crappy head cold, and a blocked right ear. It’s driving me mad! Hopefully it will sort itself out soon.
I went to Banda Aceh on Saturday. I went around to my old boss Paul’s house, to see him and his family. His little boy Adrian is so big now… he is Gigantor next to other Indonesian kids of the same age! It was cool to have a few beers and a chat. He’s moving to Medan soon for a new job, which is good for his family because his wife Popy is from there, and her family can help look after Adrian.
I usually enjoy going to Banda. But I didn’t enjoy being in that office this time because one of my colleagues, who is dating a local staff member, was basically ignoring me. Fair enough. I broke the news to her after the party early on Sunday morning that this ‘boyfriend’ of two years had been fooling around behind her back, including with me (I didn’t know!). This was going on while she was away at home in Scotland; she was under the impression that they were still together. So I had to tell her. It wasn’t fair otherwise.
Anyway, we had planned to go surfing the next morning, and in our hungover state we didn’t really think much about the fact that it wasn’t a good idea if the three of us went surfing together after the events of the previous evening! But out we went, and I really wasn’t in the mood for surfing – I don’t like being bad at things generally, particularly when I’m hungover and in a “three’s a crowd” situation. So after less than an hour pretending to enjoy being really crap at surfing, I made my way back to shore and amused myself on the beach until they were finished, then got them to take me home. Even more unfortunately, I happened to be staying at her house!
It would have been pretty funny being a fly on the wall. But I hated it! It wasn’t my fault, but she made me feel like it was.
When you’re staying with someone, it’s nice if they take care of you. Just a little bit. I don’t expect her to hold my hand; but after Sunday I hardly saw her, and she didn’t talk to me at all in the office. So I had to amuse myself by finding other friends to play with. Not difficult really – the other delegates live around the corner, so I hung out with them for dinners and we played a bit of tennis (even with a sore arm, I can still play if I don’t serve – but I feel like a bit of a wanker serving under-arm! This time, I didn’t get to thrash the boss, but a run-around was awesome, and much-needed!).
In addition, the office in Banda Aceh felt really unfriendly. I arrived with my engineer Rinaldi, and hardly anyone came up to say hello and introduce themselves to him. It was much different to usual; maybe because there’s been a few changes in the delegates, and a couple of the teams have moved to a different shipping container in the compound. But normally when us Simeuluenians go to the office, people are friendly, inclusive for lunches and keen to have a chat. The usual bright, cheery people were great. But there was none of that from anyone else. The admin and HR staff were particularly unfriendly, and even made Rinaldi organise his own briefing schedule – instead of organising it for him, they made him go around to everyone in each department and find out when they were free to give him the run-down of the different programs. How rude!
So I came back to Simeulue and became sick. Crap. And then on the weekend, I wanted to go out to Anna’s place to go kayaking. When I approached my housemate with the request to take the car, he got all narky with me and started carrying on about how I always take off with the car with little consideration for when he wants to go somewhere. We’re a bit short on cars at the moment, because of maintenance needs outside of Simeulue.
I can understand his point. I do often just go tearing off with the car to do things on the weekends. Being stuck in Salang all week really makes me ansty and I enjoy the freedom to be able to get out and about. But I usually check to see if he’s around, and he’s usually sleeping or off having coffee on Sat and Sunday mornings, so I just take the car and figure he’s big enough and ugly enough to call me if he needs to use the car. In the past, we’ve had enough cars for me to do this and it hasn’t been a problem.
But also, let me paint a picture of my housemate. At a guess, he’s in his late 50s, and spends his free time on weekends and after work doing the following things: reading, sleeping and smoking. All in the house. Or, he goes to the office. So he hardly goes anywhere. The only time he ever really needs the car is to go to the office (if he's too lazy to walk! it's only 15 mins up the road), or if he wants to go into town for a change of scenery on the restaurant front. So I thought it was a bit rich to hassle me for using the car as I do. But the main thing I was mad about was how he spoke to me, just launching into me without even really saying hello; and then when I asked Anna to come pick me up (I wasn’t able to take the car) he started mouthing off to her. That really pissed me off. I was almost in tears.
And then I WAS in tears when almost straight after our argument, I get an sms from my sister Ange: “I miss you! :( Can you please hurry up and come home so we can do fun stuff?! Love you xo”.
Anyway, the upshot of it all is that I’m just pissed off with being here at the moment. Counting down big time til December 10th. Bring on those holidays!
Oh well, too bad.
I’m sick at the moment. And I’m not very good at it. I become a bit depressed when I’m sick, because I hate not being able to do what I normally do, and from feeling like people think I’m faking it when I take time off work (in this case from “overdoing the partying in Banda” – which I must say is not true. I had a fairly tame party on Sat night, which included shooting fireworks out the front and accidentally into the mosque across the road, plus fabulous dancing until the wee hours. Then there was a bit of a late one on Monday night with the boss and his barbeque before my early morning flight to Medan. But that’s it. I swear). After getting back to Simeulue I found myself with a crappy head cold, and a blocked right ear. It’s driving me mad! Hopefully it will sort itself out soon.
I went to Banda Aceh on Saturday. I went around to my old boss Paul’s house, to see him and his family. His little boy Adrian is so big now… he is Gigantor next to other Indonesian kids of the same age! It was cool to have a few beers and a chat. He’s moving to Medan soon for a new job, which is good for his family because his wife Popy is from there, and her family can help look after Adrian.
I usually enjoy going to Banda. But I didn’t enjoy being in that office this time because one of my colleagues, who is dating a local staff member, was basically ignoring me. Fair enough. I broke the news to her after the party early on Sunday morning that this ‘boyfriend’ of two years had been fooling around behind her back, including with me (I didn’t know!). This was going on while she was away at home in Scotland; she was under the impression that they were still together. So I had to tell her. It wasn’t fair otherwise.
Anyway, we had planned to go surfing the next morning, and in our hungover state we didn’t really think much about the fact that it wasn’t a good idea if the three of us went surfing together after the events of the previous evening! But out we went, and I really wasn’t in the mood for surfing – I don’t like being bad at things generally, particularly when I’m hungover and in a “three’s a crowd” situation. So after less than an hour pretending to enjoy being really crap at surfing, I made my way back to shore and amused myself on the beach until they were finished, then got them to take me home. Even more unfortunately, I happened to be staying at her house!
It would have been pretty funny being a fly on the wall. But I hated it! It wasn’t my fault, but she made me feel like it was.
When you’re staying with someone, it’s nice if they take care of you. Just a little bit. I don’t expect her to hold my hand; but after Sunday I hardly saw her, and she didn’t talk to me at all in the office. So I had to amuse myself by finding other friends to play with. Not difficult really – the other delegates live around the corner, so I hung out with them for dinners and we played a bit of tennis (even with a sore arm, I can still play if I don’t serve – but I feel like a bit of a wanker serving under-arm! This time, I didn’t get to thrash the boss, but a run-around was awesome, and much-needed!).
In addition, the office in Banda Aceh felt really unfriendly. I arrived with my engineer Rinaldi, and hardly anyone came up to say hello and introduce themselves to him. It was much different to usual; maybe because there’s been a few changes in the delegates, and a couple of the teams have moved to a different shipping container in the compound. But normally when us Simeuluenians go to the office, people are friendly, inclusive for lunches and keen to have a chat. The usual bright, cheery people were great. But there was none of that from anyone else. The admin and HR staff were particularly unfriendly, and even made Rinaldi organise his own briefing schedule – instead of organising it for him, they made him go around to everyone in each department and find out when they were free to give him the run-down of the different programs. How rude!
So I came back to Simeulue and became sick. Crap. And then on the weekend, I wanted to go out to Anna’s place to go kayaking. When I approached my housemate with the request to take the car, he got all narky with me and started carrying on about how I always take off with the car with little consideration for when he wants to go somewhere. We’re a bit short on cars at the moment, because of maintenance needs outside of Simeulue.
I can understand his point. I do often just go tearing off with the car to do things on the weekends. Being stuck in Salang all week really makes me ansty and I enjoy the freedom to be able to get out and about. But I usually check to see if he’s around, and he’s usually sleeping or off having coffee on Sat and Sunday mornings, so I just take the car and figure he’s big enough and ugly enough to call me if he needs to use the car. In the past, we’ve had enough cars for me to do this and it hasn’t been a problem.
But also, let me paint a picture of my housemate. At a guess, he’s in his late 50s, and spends his free time on weekends and after work doing the following things: reading, sleeping and smoking. All in the house. Or, he goes to the office. So he hardly goes anywhere. The only time he ever really needs the car is to go to the office (if he's too lazy to walk! it's only 15 mins up the road), or if he wants to go into town for a change of scenery on the restaurant front. So I thought it was a bit rich to hassle me for using the car as I do. But the main thing I was mad about was how he spoke to me, just launching into me without even really saying hello; and then when I asked Anna to come pick me up (I wasn’t able to take the car) he started mouthing off to her. That really pissed me off. I was almost in tears.
And then I WAS in tears when almost straight after our argument, I get an sms from my sister Ange: “I miss you! :( Can you please hurry up and come home so we can do fun stuff?! Love you xo”.
Anyway, the upshot of it all is that I’m just pissed off with being here at the moment. Counting down big time til December 10th. Bring on those holidays!
Monday, November 17, 2008
The environmental nightmare that is Simeulue...
I thought I'd give you some delightful imagery of my little slice of paradise.
Environment is not high on the priority list here. But making money at the expense of it certainly is.
The
prime example is the seemingly humble palm plantation - "kebun sawit".
Hectares of virgin Indonesian rainforest are being knocked down to plant
these ghastly trees, all for the purpose of harvesting palm oil. The
community cuts the wood for their own consumption first, but they are
being encouraged by the government to sell and/or rent their land to the
palm oil companies who make big bucks - and little goes back to the
community. There is a lot of community land dedicated to palm oil
production.
The
Bupati - the head of governance in Simeulue - is up to his neck in
dodgy dealings with the oil companies too, at the expense of the
community. He's been in court and I think even in jail for it. The
amount of land available on Simeulue is not even close to that needed
for a palm processing facility.
It's depressing to drive around the plantations and see just how much was
forest before. I remember the first time I arrived in Simeulue and went
for a nice drive - only for my jaw to drop to the floor when I drove
over the hill and saw the rows upon rows of palm trees stretching to the
horizon. And the destruction continues around the island - even in
Salang where I work, there are just more and more hectares being
cleared. We don't see many monkeys any more :(
Then
there's the rubbish dump. It's gross! There is no proper way to deal
with the mountains of plastic bags, bottles, food scraps, wood and other
rubbish that rapidly accumulates in this little town. There are a few
entrepreuners around town who have set up their own businesses to
collect cans, old bikes, 44 gallon drums and rusty old ships and export
the metal back to Medan by ferry. There are scavengers that peruse the
area for anything valuable that can be recycled, like plastic bottles,
for which they get a small sum of money. 
In
terms of dealing with household waste, people just make a pile out the
back of their house, dump their rubbish there, and burn it. In some ways
it stops the rubbish making its way into the drains and the sea, but
pollution-wise it's not good, especially as a high proportion of the
waste is toxic plastic bags.
Recently, the UN
set up a waste sorting and management facility (the big blue building in
the picture) to try and deal with it. They are also planning a waste
education program. the can really only operate effectively in Sinabang,
the location of the main mass of people. In the kampungs its not
feasible.
The
positive thing about the waste management program though is that it's a
practical one. The idea is that the Department of Sanitation, together
with UN, go around with trucks and personnel and load up with the town's
rubbish. Then they take it out to the waste management facility at the
dump and sort it into non-recyclable and recyclable plastics, organic
matter, paper, wood, metals etc. The organic waste gets composted and
any recyclables sent to Medan by ferry to be recycled.
The
harbour is a disgrace rubbish-wise. People dump their rubbish straight
into the 'rivers' - read concrete lined canals to transport water to the
sea - and it goes straight into the harbour. Plus there's the fishermen
and boat passengers that throw all their rubbish overboard. There
really is very little understanding about the importance of waste
management. The UN has now started a waste collection and harbour
clean-up program in Sinabang to try and deal with the growing mountain
of plastic bags, bottles, fishing nets and other visible rubbish that
blights the landscape; we regularly see teams of rubbish collectors
around the place. But they're fighting an uphill battle; as soon as they
clear the shoreline, more rubbish washes in. If you take a boat out
into the harbour and beyond, on the way back you don't need to guess how
close you are to home - just observe how much rubbish floats by!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Tameng tales and other woes
This is the bridge in Tameng, which fell down this week when one of our gravel-laden trucks went over it.
The drivers had to dump the load of gravel into the river and then try to lever it out. We then got into a tricky situation when we signed an agreement to pay half the cost to the local government to fix it. It still isn’t fixed 2 weeks after the contractors promised it. We can’t move any quarry or hardware materials to our villages until it’s sorted. It’s been very dodgy for a long time, so it had to happen. But still, more frustrations!
Ahhh my project seems to take two steps backwards as soon as it takes one forward. We recently got an audit done of the program, and our engineer uncovered about 50 houses in the first two villages ARC built in, where the septic tanks were made of concrete and brick, and never actually finished. They used a ‘traditional’ design where there is no floor in the tank – which means the shit goes directly into the soil without proper filtration! And while soakaways were supposed to be attached to these tanks for the effluent, the completion of these was left to the community, including filling them with self-procured gravel and sand. So of course, they neglected to do this, and in some cases used them for other purposes like garbage dumps.
So now we have to go back and fix this problem. And it ain’t cheap. We have decided to replace the old tanks with new fibreglass ones, and fill in the soakaways. My budget was already looking shabby, not to mention my timeline totally overshot by at least three months.
I might be here until the end of 2058, not 2008!
The drivers had to dump the load of gravel into the river and then try to lever it out. We then got into a tricky situation when we signed an agreement to pay half the cost to the local government to fix it. It still isn’t fixed 2 weeks after the contractors promised it. We can’t move any quarry or hardware materials to our villages until it’s sorted. It’s been very dodgy for a long time, so it had to happen. But still, more frustrations!
Ahhh my project seems to take two steps backwards as soon as it takes one forward. We recently got an audit done of the program, and our engineer uncovered about 50 houses in the first two villages ARC built in, where the septic tanks were made of concrete and brick, and never actually finished. They used a ‘traditional’ design where there is no floor in the tank – which means the shit goes directly into the soil without proper filtration! And while soakaways were supposed to be attached to these tanks for the effluent, the completion of these was left to the community, including filling them with self-procured gravel and sand. So of course, they neglected to do this, and in some cases used them for other purposes like garbage dumps.
So now we have to go back and fix this problem. And it ain’t cheap. We have decided to replace the old tanks with new fibreglass ones, and fill in the soakaways. My budget was already looking shabby, not to mention my timeline totally overshot by at least three months.
I might be here until the end of 2058, not 2008!
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