Hard work fails to pay devidends for quarriers

By Agus Maryono

CILACAP, Central Java (JP): The 45-year-old man was really sad when his six children asked him for new clothes to wear at Idul Fitri.

"I cannot think about buying clothes. I cannot even provide ample meals for my family," Turiman, a resident of Losari village, Rawalo district, Banyumas, says.

"I can only resign myself to our fate, especially when my children ask me for something I cannot give them. We want to make them happy, but we are unable to do so," he laments.

His wife, Edah, 35, feels the same. During the past year it has been very difficult to eat properly.

Turiman is one among some 100 sand quarriers at Serayu River, three kilometers from his home. The quarrymen concede that they lead a hard life because the price of sand has not increased despite last year's steep inflation rate."You see, now rice costs Rp 3,000 a kilogram, but the price of sand remains Rp 9,000 per boat-load of three cubic meters, while we have to dive in the river and obtain the material with great difficulty. What must we eat, sand perhaps?" Turiman asks.

Turiman says that before the monetary crisis, he and his three colleagues could earn enough for their daily needs. "One boat- load yielded a profit of between Rp 3,000 and Rp 4,000 for the four of us. And we could get four boat-loads a day," Turiman says.

At present they only manage to quarry one boat-load. Turiman gets stressed out, especially when there is nobody to transport the sand. "Yes, we have suffered a lot in the last three months since repairs commenced on the Kalituban Bridge (in Kesugihan district, Cilacap), two kilometers from the quarry, because trucks to transport sand cannot enter our area now. And so we remain idle.

"Every day we can feel only deep sorrow. As a parent I often skip meals. What's important is that the children have something to eat," Turiman says resignedly.

The bridge repairs have cost hundreds of sand quarriers at Serayu River, Kesugihan, on the border between Cilacap and Purwokerto, their jobs.

"At most there are eight people left who have the courage to continue quarrying sand, including myself. Let us hope there is a truck that has lost its way and appears here," Turiman says, "Just calculate for yourself, what my family's living expenses are. My income is very uncertain."

He says that at the moment he can at best get one boat-load of sand, which yields Rp 2,000. "I often cry seeing my children eat rice only, and a very small quantity at that."

He mentions that even if his income had remained the same as in precrisis days, i.e. Rp 10,000 a day, the amount would not always be enough to meet today's daily needs. The living conditions of the quarriers worsened with the cessation of their activities as a result of the bridge repairs.

Turiman has seven children. The eldest, Siti Patimah, 16, who graduated from elementary school just last year, is married to a man from the same village.

"I need to feed my six (other) children. Every day I must have at least Rp 9,000 to buy three kilograms of rice," Turiman says. "I never consider buying vegetables. I cannot afford dishes either," Turiman adds earnestly. "I live here. The land is not mine, but somebody else's for which I pay a yearly tax."

He plants sweet potatoes on the land. The yield helps his family survive. "Yes, the sweet potatoes replace rice when there is no money. The leaves are cooked into a vegetable dish every day," Edah says.

The requirement of his children, five of whom are in elementary school, is supported by income he makes on the chickens he breeds. "Praise God, I still have chickens. Otherwise there would be no money to pay for the children's school fees," Turiman says.

He has four free-range hens. "Every month we sell the small chickens to help with our expenses, including school fees," Turiman says.

Knowing the family's condition, his neighbors suggested that they apply for their children to be exempt from school fees. "Thank God, two of my children are now exempt from school fees. I still pay the fees for three children," says Turiman. He pays the school fees at one go when he has money. "We cannot pay on a regular basis because our money is often all used on daily needs. We have to wait for a windfall to enable us to pay the school fees," he says. "What I must provide every day is Rp 100 pocket money for each child."

Edah, who hails from Kutojaya, Cicurug district, Sukabumi regency, West Java, says she accepts the family's fate. "What can we do? The important thing is to have something to eat every day. That is our dream. Let others have new clothes. God willing, our children can practice restraint and not ask for many things," Edah says.

Her youngest, Siti Nurjanah, is four years old. She continues to cry while being carried. She wants a drink of milk, but Edah can only make an empty promise with, "Yes, father will buy some milk, now go to sleep." The child keeps crying and is carried outside the decrepit house. Inside the house there is no furniture except a shabby table and a rickety bamboo bench.