Homecoming: Injured reunited with Nias family

Homecoming: Injured reunited with Nias family

Upon the invitation of the International Organization for
Migration (IOM), The Jakarta Post's Chisato Hara observed the
organization's assisted voluntary return program in Medan, in
Gunung Sitoli, Nias, and onboard the USNS Mercy off the coast of
Nias.

Adeli Zebua, 31, is still in pain from a leg injury he suffered
during the catastrophic Nias earthquake of March 28, and hobbles
on still-unfamiliar crutches into the lobby of a hotel in Medan,
North Sumatra. He cannot straighten his right leg fully, and
plops down on a chair with it extended out in front of him.

Adeli's five-year-old son Ardiman follows behind, carried by
his sister Iberia, 36, who flew out to Medan when the two were
evacuated for medical treatment. Ardiman appears either sleepy or
tired, and is glum as he hangs onto his aunt's neck.

It is April 27, and the three are part of a group of seven
Nias residents who will be flown home to the island under the
assisted voluntary return program of the International
Organization for Migration (IOM), in coordination with the Croix-
Rouge Francaise, the French Red Cross, which is providing a
charter plane.

So far, the IOM has facilitated the return of about 100
medevacked Nias residents from various hospitals in the North
Sumatra capital.

"Adeli broke his leg, and Ardiman broke both legs in the
earthquake, and see? Now one is shorter than the other," said
Iberia. The boy stands up, and his right leg is clearly shorter
by about three centimeters or so.

"After potential returnees are discharged from local
hospitals, we carry out an independent assessment to see if they
are fit to travel. Unfortunately, sometimes their discharge
papers are either incomplete or not detailed," said IOM Medan
senior nurse coordinator Kristin Porca, a professional nurse from
the Philippines.

The three have been staying at the local hotel for about a
week since their discharge, waiting for their turn to go home.
Adeli is anxious to get back -- his wife gave birth while he was
in Medan, and he has yet to meet his new daughter.

"We were lucky," said Iberia. "Adeli's house is completely
destroyed and he lost his eight-year-old daughter, Sirina -- but
wealthy families had houses four stories tall that collapsed and
killed everyone inside. A family of 15 people -- that's three
generations under one roof. No one came out alive of those great
houses."

An IOM staffer takes care of the hotel bill -- the
organization provides accommodation as part of its program -- and
about 30 minutes later, a small van pulls up to transport the
returnees and their IOM escorts to Polonia Airport.

The charter plane, a 14-passenger CASA 212, is parked in a
hangar near the cargo bay, and an administrator from the IOM
airport support office fills in the passenger manifest --
including the weight of luggage and individual passengers.

Two other IOM vehicles are on their way to the airport with
the rest of the returnees for that day: Requeli Sarumaha, 52, and
his injured son Sugesti, 22; and Lolombowo Telambanua, 50, and
his injured granddaughter Periwati, 8.

Requeli and Sugesti are in high spirits, happy to be going
home. "My son has been to Medan, but I've never been off Nias,"
said Requeli, whose wife and five other children all survived
with minor injuries -- although his 18-year-old daughter Wati
required 14 stitches for a head injury.

Sugesti, meanwhile, is standing off at a distance watching
planes, with his forearm in a cast and a black cowboy hat slung
behind his neck, and smiles broadly whenever he makes eye contact
with anyone.

Lolombowo and his granddaughter are solemn, and the wiry
grandfather carries Periwati from the car -- her right leg is in
a cast from hip to ankle.

While Ardiman's spirits have lifted at the sight of airplanes
landing and taking off, Periwati hardly looks up, only
occasionally peering up from under her bangs, then hiding her
face in her grandfather's chest.

Later, Lolombowo explains: "Wati is an only child -- her
younger brother died when she was seven -- and the earthquake
took her mother and father, my only son. My wife is waiting for
us on Nias, but what are we to do? We are not young anymore, and
Wati's still so young. What will we do about her schooling?"

An IOM staffer passes out lunch parcels -- fried chicken,
green beans and soft drinks -- and Ardiman munches his chicken
and gulps Coca-Cola while cuddling a teddy bear he has pulled out
from his bag. Occasionally, he burps, followed by a giggle: I
love Coca-Cola. I can drink Coca-Cola all the time."

He has named his teddy bear Iom (ee-om) after the
organization, whose nurses distributed donated toys to all Nias
children evacuated to Medan.

"Next thing you know, there will be children named Iom," joked
Marc Petzoldt, head of IOM's Nias operations.

As French Red Cross workers arrive -- they are transporting
pipes, a generator and other equipment to install running water
in damaged areas on Nias -- a freak thunderstorm builds up as it
has done all week, and the flight is delayed due to uncertain
weather conditions over the island.

The skies clear eventually, but there has been a change to the
passenger manifest because of weight restrictions -- Parco and a
few other IOM escorts will not be coming, and some of the
returnees' luggage will be sent the following day.

During the 1.5-hour flight, the returnees doze or rest --
except Requeli, who looks nervous and strained as he grips the
armrests. As Nias comes within view, however, his lined face
brightens: "There it is! There's Nias!" he exclaims in a hushed
voice to the others, who all lean over to his side of the plane
to look out at the lush green island.

In contrast, the drive from Nias airport is one of scattered
ruins. All along the road are collapsed houses and huts; in their
front yards are tents bearing the logos of the Indonesian Red
Cross, the International Red Cross/Crescent, Rotary
International, Johannitas International Aid and other
organizations.

"The worst damage was to the south," said Petzoldt, where Nias
was known for its small but bustling surfing industry. "The
bridge is down in Teluk Dalam. In other places, the road was
lifted two, three meters by the quake, and there's only one major
road. So there's great difficulty transporting heavy equipment on
the island -- the equipment and other materials needed to
reconstruct bridges and roads."

The road to Gunung Sitoli is in good condition, but more
destruction is evident as the capital draws near -- four-story
shop-houses have caved in completely, with their roofs resting
atop their foundations, and others are literally piles of rubble
with no semblance to its former structure. There seems to be no
pattern to the destruction, and buildings in mint condition stand
next to a leveled plot, where residents climb over rubble or
under tilting tiers searching for reusable or resalable scrap
material.

"But it's much better this week," continued Petzoldt. "Stores
are open, there are more people out. Last week, downtown was
still a ghost town, and it was quiet."

He points out a riverbank where several colorfully painted
pontoons lie upended -- the site of the central fish market,
which was destroyed. "(The IOM) set up a temporary market in the
main harbor on the other side of town, and it seems to be
working. Fishermen have come out to trade again, and there seem
to be more every day."

The central square, Lapangan Merdeka (Independence field), is
the site of a base camp for relief efforts, where non-
governmental organizations and government institutions --
including the Social Welfare Department and the police's Mobile
Brigade (Brimob) -- have pitched their tents, and the Indonesian
Red Cross-Riau (PMI Riau) runs a field clinic to provide free
medical treatment.

Dr. Santosa of PMI Riau said the rotating teams -- each
consisting of one doctor, two medical workers and seven
volunteers -- had treated 150 to 180 people daily since the
earthquake. "But it's dropping off now to about 100 people a
day."

Aside from the Zebua family, who board a waiting bus, the
other returnees will overnight at the base camp and await the
arrival of their luggage.

Lolombowo is slightly frantic: "Our bags got left behind in
Medan! How will we get them? And how will we get home (to our
village)?"

He calms down somewhat when he is told the bags will arrive
the next day, and that the IOM will provide transportation to his
village.

Requeli, on the other hand, is beaming, happy just to be back
on the island. "Just a small trip left. But I am home. It's good
to be home," he said, and led the furrow-browed Lolombowo away to
his tent. "You'll see, everything will be all right. We're being
looked after."

Meanwhile, Adeli, Ardiman and Iberia have boarded an IOM
minivan for a 15-minute drive up the hills to their kampong above
Gunung Sitoli.

The neighborhood is subdued as the two cars arrive, although a
few children and adults look curiously at the stopping vehicles.
As Iberia and Ardiman emerge, a girl runs off to start the
grapevine, and by the time Adeli alights, the cars are surrounded
by neighbors shouting excitedly.

"Someone get his wife!" yells one man as he helps Adeli on his
crutches to a nearby porch.

Everyone crowds around the three, welcoming them home.

A sobbing woman carrying a newborn comes through those
assembled, and drops down on her knees to embrace her husband and
to present their new daughter -- her words are lost in her wails.
She then turns to embrace Ardiman, and he sets his mouth in a
hard line, trying not to cry in front of the entire kampong. He
soon gives up the fight and sobs with his mother.

From somewhere, a smaller version of Ardiman appears -- his
younger brother -- and jumps onto Adeli's lap.

The neighbors press ever closer in a tight ring around the
reunified family, and soon, jokes are made and laughter marks the
occasion.

Adeli's wife is still overwhelmed as she approaches Petzolt,
and it is all she can manage to say thank you.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you for bringing
them home ...," she says, then buries her face in her baby
daughter's blanket. She tries to introduce the baby, and gets out
"Sira ...", but the rest is lost in fresh tears.

Is she named after Sirina, the daughter she lost?

"Yes. We lost a daughter. But have gained one. And now (Adeli
and Ardiman) are home. We are a family again."