Former East Timor transmigrants back to square one
Former East Timor transmigrants back to square one
The death and destruction which enveloped East Timor after the
self-determination referendum in September 1999 also displaced
thousands of people, including Balinese who had made the
territory their home. The Jakarta Post's Pandaya
visited recently a group of Balinese who are living in a national
park after returning to their homeland. The following are his
article and photographs.
BALI BARAT NATIONAL PARK, Bali (JP): Made Badung could not
resist the temptation of moving to East Timor in 1991 after local
government officials convinced him of a better future in the
promised land.
He sold his property, cattle and belongings in his home
village in the northern coastal regency of Buleleng, and off he
went with fellow poor Balinese under the state-sponsored
transmigration program.
Made, his wife and six children were entitled to two hectares
of agricultural land in Suai, East Timor. Like Balinese migrants
elsewhere, they were industrious and they became a prosperous
community.
They were often envied by locals, who knew little about modern
farming know-how. They bought property from locals as they grew
wealthier; Made owned six hectares of farmland by 1999.
Yet it all came to nothing when he and other migrants had to
flee rampaging proindependence militias after the referendum.
"We ran for our lives with nothing but the clothes on our
backs," Made said at his home in West Bali National Park.
Made and another 126 Balinese transmigrant families who fled
Suai, resettled on state land in Sumber Klampok in September
1999. Hundreds more have been accommodated elsewhere on the
tourist island, according to their regencies of origin.
They have become "refugees" in their own homeland, living in
abject poverty and relying almost exclusively on the government's
help to survive.
In Sumber Klampok, they live in 3 meter by 3 meter shacks,
each built on 400 square meters of land provided by the
government. Shacks that have thatch roofs, walls of bamboo or
plastic sheeting and dirt floors. There is no point in asking
about matters of cleanliness.
There is no electricity. Drinking water is supplied by the
local government, which also gives 400 grams of rice par day per
person and Rp 1,500 in cash a day for each family. They also get
seeds of food crops, and this season will be their first harvest
of peanut, paddy and corn.
"But lately, the assistance has come very late and
irregularly," said Made's wife.
Most households have makeshift places for offerings built from
wooden sticks in their front yards. The huts are almost of the
same "architectural" style as other farming homes in the area but
one peculiar feature -- Balinese brown cows -- is missing.
Education is a serious problem as all resources are aimed at
the bare necessities.
"There's no money to send the children to school. My teenage
son works on a construction site in Singaraja," said a housewife
who declined to identify herself.
The land is fertile but becomes virtually barren during the
dry season because the area consists of limestone and the soil
layer is thin. Groundwater is scarce and locals rely on tap water
the government delivers by trucks as there are no pipelines.
Men are lucky if they can find employment in construction
projects in town to help make ends meet.
The "resettlers" live across a road from a residential area.
Its population of 1,800 comprises indigenous Balinese, who are
mostly Hindu, and migrant Madurese, who are mostly Muslim.
"The neighbors are very helpful," says Made. "They came and
helped us erect the shacks when we arrived."
The resettlers occupied the state land after a bitter struggle
with the provincial government. They argued it was only fair for
them to obtain the land as a substitute for the property they
sold before participating in the transmigration program which
turned into a disaster.
The forestry ministry's office strongly opposed the
resettlement scheme for fear that the farmers would steal wood
from the protected forest, hunt animals and clear more land for
farming.
Poaching and illegal logging, allegedly involving residents of
villages within the 20,000-hectare park and security officers, is
already troubling for forest rangers.
The forestry office's conservation section chief, Tri Siswo
Raharjo, said he worried the resettlers would encroach on the
forest in times of food scarcity, such as during the dry season.
"How do you think they will survive when the soil is dry and
they cannot produce anything?" he said.
According to Tri, all of Sumber Klampok occupies state land,
which was formerly a coconut plantation.
The settlement dates back to the 1960s when job seekers moved
in to work on the plantation. The plantation was formally closed
in the early 1990s but former plantation workers refused to move
and, with the support of NGO activists, demanded legal ownership
of the property.
Some say the longtime residents welcomed the ex-transmigrants
in the hope that their presence would strengthen their bargaining
position in the disputed land ownership.
But all the village's new residents want to think about is
rebuilding their shattered lives.
"As long as we have no better choice we don't even think of
moving out," said Made. "We are starting life all over again."