Bombing turns paradise siland into hell

Bombing turns paradise siland into hell

I Wayan Juniartha, The Jakarta Post, Kuta, Bali

It was a Saturday night inferno on a strip of road in Kuta,
foreign holidaymakers' heaven, that nobody will ever forget.

The explosion at around 11:15 p.m. was so powerful it was
heard 20 kilometers away and felt 10 km away.

The bomb was believed to be detonated with a remote control
just a few meters from the front of the Sari Club, a bar and
clubbing spot which only admits foreigners. The blast left a 1.5
meter deep crater measuring 5m by 4m in diameter.

Other evidence of the immense force of the explosion was the
wreckage of two vans lying upside down on a building across the
street from the Sari Club.

The explosion sent the two cars high into the air before they
landed 15 meters away. The explosion also severely damaged 16
other cars, including a mini van with four people trapped inside
who were burned to death.

"I heard two explosions. The first one was loud enough to
force everybody in the club to cover their ears, but the second
was much, much louder, and it virtually swept everybody to the
ground. Then suddenly the whole place was engulfed by fire, and
in no time at all the burning roof started crumbling down," a
survivor of the attack, Darren Burton told The Jakarta Post.

A native of Adelaide, Australia, Burton and his rugby team
were visiting Bali for a rugby exhibition.

"I think we are very lucky. We found a hole in the wall and
jumped through it. There were around 10 of us that went through
that way. The club was very full at that time, there were
probably 100 or 200 people inside the club when the explosion
took place," Burton said.

When Darren Burton and his friends made it to safety the Sari
Club was flattened, with fire engulfing three large buildings,
including the Panin Bank building and the popular Paddy's Club,
across the street from the Sari Club. Soon all the southern side
of Legian street was ablaze.

Firefighters from Denpasar and Badung bravely attempted to
extinguish the fire in total darkness as the electricity was cut.
It was total chaos. The clubgoers frantically looked for their
lost friends and hundreds of curious locals clogged the scene,
doing practically nothing but watching, and, often, hampering the
firefighters' work.

Things slowly improved only two hours later when the police's
elite Mobile Brigade cordoned off the area, and leaders of Desa
Adat (customary village) called in the members of it's youth
activists and traditional guards to help the firefighters.

At around 1.30 am local time on Sunday, the firefighters
managed to get the fire under control. Yet, when the fire died
out, the thick smoke emanating from the burned buildings smelled
of burned human flesh. This made them aware that a great number
of bodies were trapped in the buildings.

"I was so overwhelmed by that realization. I stood there
looking at the gory scenery; a headless corpse over there, dead
bodies piled up next to a wooden table bar, limbs lay all over
the place. The bomber must be someone without a heart," a local
Moslem figure, Haji Bambang said.

It was Haji Bambang, who led the initial evacuation process.
He instructed local Muslim youths to go the nearby mosque and
fetch stretchers and as much white linen as they could find.

Braving occasional small explosions caused by cooking-gas
bottles, Haji Bambang led the youths to the area where the
glittering Sari Club once stood.

They carefully loaded a corpse on the stretcher, covered it
with white linen, and took it to the waiting vans and ambulances.
They continued working in silence for a while before they found a
pile of six bodies; a woman lying on her back, her hands drawn
out; a couple tightly hugging each other in the final moment of
death.

"Be careful so as not to drop it, and treat the body with
respect as if it is the body of your own brothers and sisters,"
Haji Bambang told his volunteers.

His tremendous energy and down-to-earth leadership -- he
speaks high-Balinese fluently -- inspired the majority of
onlookers to join the evacuation efforts.

At around 5.30 am, when all the injured victims had been moved
to the 13 medical facilities in and around Denpasar, and most of
the corpses had been sent to the Sanglah Central Hospital, people
had the chance to see the scene clearly.

"The area was totally obliterated. We are doomed. We can
always rebuild the place, but can we rebuild the sense of peace
and friendliness this place once offered after all this terror?"
a local man asked, a question that everybody also wondered about.

Several kilometers away in a housing complex in Jimbaran, a
leader of the local Muslim student's association received a
message on his cellular-phone. Hindu youths from Legian were on a
rampage, blaming Muslims for the bombing, and had started
"sweeping" operations against Muslims, the message said.

Similar messages were received and re-sent through dozens of
cellular phones throughout the day, causing panic and confusion
among the local Muslim minority.

The explosion is feared to affect the delicate interfaith
relations in the Island of God.