Flooding -- Just blame it on the rain

Flooding -- Just blame it on the rain

Many times we wake up in the morning with uneasiness, perhaps the
remnant of a nightmare or weariness from the day before.

One day at the end of January, I awoke to see that a stream of
brownish, trash-strewn water had flooded the narrow street in
front of my house, in Grogol, West Jakarta, and was spilling onto
my terrace, 50 centimeters above the ground.

My neighbors, who are not so lucky to have their houses built
above street level, were already lifting their belongings to
higher places inside their houses.

I thought a nightmare had begun in my waking hours.

When the electricity was still on, I saw on TV that Jakarta
Governor Sutiyoso had given up in dealing with flooding in the
city, saying that heavy rain and flooding were part of a five-
year cycle.

He quipped later that he wasn't Sangkuriang, a character in
Sundanese folklore who is said to have transformed a giant boat
into Mount Tangkuban Perahu in Bandung, West Java.

Sutiyoso is right. He isn't Sangkuriang, or Noah. And he
wasn't equipped to change the situation. However, I wondered why
he did not seem to realize that he had the authority to prevent
calamities, to some extent, from occurring in his territory.

I wondered if he's aware that, as in many myths and legends in
Java and Indonesia, a leader should have "supernatural power"
(now translated into knowledge and wisdom) to protect his or her
people.

His blundering comments have become the stuff of popular
ridicule and the target of much criticism.

I thought at that time that the water would recede in one day,
as happened in the neighborhood before on Sunday. But the rain
was incessant and, by Thursday, the water had entered my house.

At night, the whole area descended into darkness. There was no
other sound except the splashing water from footsteps. Even the
azan from the nearby mosque calling for prayer, a timekeeper on
every other day, was silenced. The radio became the only medium
to learn all the happenings in the city.

On that fateful Friday night, we had almost run out of clean
water so we stored up on rain to clean ourselves. There was a
heavy downpour the whole night, perhaps the heaviest in the week,
and the water rose some 30cm inside my house. So the following
day, we decided to seek refuge elsewhere, except for my father
who insisted on staying to guard the house.

The trip to find a dry place became another adventure. My
mother and I earlier planned to walk through the flood but a
neighbor called a cart and we asked to join them. The cart was
pulled by a man and pushed by two more. Methinks that these
people profited from the catastrophe by modifying a cart as such
with a raised bench with a capacity to sit four people, costing
Rp 10,000 per person. Whatever their motivation, they were
extraordinarily innovative.

The cart proceeded slowly through the knee-high floodwaters
and we saw many people and teenagers trudging on the inundated
street or paddling on makeshift rafts. There were many people and
cart "boatmen" at the police station, which become the meeting
point, and many officers were sitting idly. I never saw any
police patrolling my neighborhood at night, either on foot or on
rubber raft.

There have been heroic stories of people and artists helping
flood victims and media and TV were exposing their generosity,
but I don't see it that way. Unfortunately, for all the good
acts, there were others who were picking and choosing who to
help.

We had to walk to the nearby Mal Taman Anggrek shopping mall
because no taxis or minivans were willing to go to the area where
we wanted to stay temporarily. Part of the street in front of the
Tarumanagara University campus and the adjacent Mal Ciputra was
filled with water and no vehicle could pass.

We took an ojek (motorcycle taxi) but the drivers only took us
halfway because flooding blocked one side of Jl. Meruya Ilir
after days of rain.

For the second time, we had to cross the brownish pond on a
cart, probably usually used to transport used-items. There were
five other people standing on the cart, which was pushed and
pulled by four men. Along the street, people watched the
spectacle.

We took the ojek again to conclude the last round of the trip.
Thank God, we made it at last though I forgot to take my shoes
and had to go to the office in slippers.

Local papers have been questioning who should take the
responsibility. It's easy to point fingers, but the distrust of
the government's incapability along with the feeling of
insecurity can't be washed away in a day.

Yet if someone is willing to take all the responsibility for
nature's destruction, will it ease the recovery and provide a
guarantee that there will be no more floods in Jakarta?

Just after President Megawati Soekarnoputri donated rubber
dinghies and buoys last Saturday, my cousin commented
sarcastically.

"Why is she contributing it now when the water is about to
ebb?" I was surprised that an ordinary woman could be far-sighted
enough to conclude that the peak of the floods might have passed.

For me, our leaders' slow action again highlighted their sorry
sense of crisis. For them, the shortest and easiest way is to
blame it on the rain, like pop duo Milli Vanilli pretended they
had said. For me, however, living with the consequences, it's not
so easy to wash my hands of the problem.

-- Ivy Susanti