Reporting on Aceh empowers the soul<\/p>\n
Tony Hotland, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta<\/p>\n
It took me less than a second to say yes to my editor -- who
\nseemed to approach expecting me to turn him down -- when he told
\nme to start packing for a two-week assignment to Nanggroe Aceh
\nDarussalam.<\/p>\n
I had wanted to put my name up for the assignment ever since
\nthe disaster hit. Although I was still wet behind the ears in
\nterms of journalism, after almost two years, my news instincts
\nhad developed a bit and rang a bell -- that this was one of those
\nonce-in-a-lifetime experiences.<\/p>\n
I don't think I've ever had any such experience before this.
\nThe only one that comes close was when my male friends booked a
\nstripper one New Year's Eve. Then again, I only got a glimpse
\nbecause of a family gathering -- and while I may rue that missed
\nchance, it didn't affect my career one way or another.<\/p>\n
It was in the wee hours when I took off with two full bags in
\nthe heavy rain, with my mom's voice still buzzing in my ear,
\ntelling me to head quickly to the airport if a firefight started.<\/p>\n
When my plane touched down at Blang Bintang airport, I felt
\ncompletely out of my element, knowing that I was to be an
\neyewitness to an historical episode of both my country and the
\nworld -- the aftermath of a 9.0-magnitude earthquake and tsunamis
\nthat had already claimed over 220,000 lives.<\/p>\n
Here, my inexperience told: I drew a blank about what stories
\nto look for in this particular situation, in a place I had never
\nbeen before and the only thing about which I knew was the
\nmilitary operation and gross human rights violations.<\/p>\n
Fortunately, my chief editor was sitting next to me, coaching
\nme on what stories to look for in the pulverized land, at refugee
\ncamps, in broken hospitals where high-spirited volunteers and
\nmedical workers were sapped of strength by their 24-7 shifts.<\/p>\n
The situation in Banda Aceh was better when I arrived than it
\nhad been during the first few days after the tragedy. I arrived
\nthree weeks after the disaster and Banda Aceh, the only city I
\nhad the chance to visit, was relatively intact, being an inland
\ncity.<\/p>\n
No dead bodies were strewn along the streets -- as journalists
\nwho had arrived here far earlier had reported -- but the city
\nlooked dead and dry, with its shattered buildings and billowing
\ndust.<\/p>\n
One of the first challenges I faced was approaching and
\ntalking to survivors at refugee camps -- which meant they had to
\nrelive the horrifying experience of running for their lives as
\nwalls of water rumbled behind them and revisit the still-fresh
\nmemories of their dearest ones who had failed to escape death.<\/p>\n
It was a devastating experience for me personally, but at the
\nsame time, it was everything a staunch journalist could ever wish
\nfor. A press conference seems like a piece of cake now.<\/p>\n
Looking for stories took up most of the day, but filing them
\nto Jakarta was the real headache. In a press room provided by the
\nAceh administration, the available Internet connections were
\nextremely limited and most of the time, failed to work at all.<\/p>\n
When they did, it was a real feat for me to write a full
\nstandard article within minutes, compared to the usual hour and a
\nhalf. Not to mention, dozens of journalists -- both Indonesian
\nand foreign -- took turns with the limited facilities.<\/p>\n
Instead of laptops, a personal digital assistant (PDA) would
\nhave been the more suitable device in Aceh. Its smaller size and
\nInternet capabilities via General Package Radio Service (GPRS)
\nwould have been invaluable under the circumstances.<\/p>\n
Transportation and accommodation were also killers. I had the
\nluxury of traveling in a rented car and staying in a rented house
\nwhen my chief editor was in town.<\/p>\n
When he went away, so did those facilities.<\/p>\n
The only other transportation available was motorcycle taxis
\n(ojek) -- which meant no car roof to protect us from the elements
\n-- and whose drivers charged newcomers a hundred times higher. A
\nRp. 5,000 trip would suddenly cost Rp. 50,000. The scorching sun
\nbecame so despicable that I could almost imagine we were on
\nMercury.<\/p>\n
The smartest decision I had made was to bring only thin cotton
\nT-shirts and dark jeans to ward off the dirt, mud and dust.<\/p>\n
Reporting in post-disaster Aceh really took the best
\njournalistic skill in you, including the ability to mingle with
\nthe Acehnese within their own culture and with their preformed
\nperceptions about \"people from Jakarta\".<\/p>\n
In as much as I would think it over a couple of hundred times
\nif I had to do it all over again, I consider the experience --
\nwhich also included spending sleepless nights on a bench and
\nbathing once a day because clean water was scarce, but a welcome
\nluxury nonetheless -- as one that empowered my soul, both as a
\nreporter and as a human being.<\/p>",
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