Lesson on brotherhood and love

Lesson on brotherhood and love

I Wayan Juniartha, The Jakarta Post, Denpasar, Bali

Haji Bambang is short even by Asian standards but he
conspicuously stood out that Oct. 12 night. The 42-year-old
courageously led his men to remove the bodies of the dead and
dying following the devastating bomb blast that ripped through
Bali's prime tourist resort of Kuta.

He braved the fires that raged in the buildings close to the
detonation points on Jl. Legian, where victims lay helpless on
the sidewalks as firefighters battled the conflagration.

"When I looked around I realized that the people at the scene
were in a state of paralyzed shock," he said.

Haji Bambang immediately asked the members of Fardhu Kiffayah,
the 2,700 strong burial brigade from Kuta's Istiqomah and Al-
Mujahidin mosques, to rush in with as many stretchers and as much
white linen as possible.

Under the protection of the water being sprayed by the fire
engines, the Fardhu Kiffayah members toiled to remove the charred
bodies from the scene. They were later joined by Balinese youths
who were inspired by Haji Bambang's sincere dedication and
leadership.

The powerful explosion that occurred at about 11:15 p.m. local
time killed at least 190 people and injured more than 300 others.

On the days following the explosion, Haji Bambang spent most
of his time coordinating the search for the victims believed to
be still buried under the collapsed buildings. Yet, he always
found time to pray.

"Every time I kneeled down and prayed I felt some hands
caressing my back softly, and I knew that they were the souls of
the dead I had helped. I then asked them for forgiveness for not
being able to do better, and wished them all a smooth journey to
heaven," he recalled solemnly.

In fact, the Legian tragedy was his second encounter with mass
death and brutality.

In 1990 when he was on his first haj pilgrimage to Mecca, Haji
Bambang, his mother Nini Kartini, and his wife Ni Made Torniari,
were among thousands of Muslims trapped inside a newly built
tunnel connecting Arafah and Mina. Fortunately, they managed to
get out in time.

The Mina Tragedy claimed the lives of 1,426 Muslims, including
649 from Indonesian.

"God has twice given me a chance to witness mass deaths. I am
still pondering the spiritual meaning behind these two
tragedies," he said.

Haji Bambang sees the Legian tragedy as a reason to re-unite
the people of Kuta, a place once wracked by ethnic and religious
tensions between the natives and the non-Balinese minority.

The spirit of togetherness displayed by the people from
different religious beliefs, ethnicities, and races at the time
of and in the days following the tragedy reminded Haji Bambang of
what Kuta used to be during his childhood in the 60s and 70s.

Haji Bambang was born in Kuta in a simple house with a dirt
floor and thatched roof on April 20, 1960, and was given the name
Agus Bambang Priyanto. He grew up short, dark skinned, skinny,
but strong. These physical features won him the nickname "Tong-
tong" after a local tree known for its strength.

Among his best childhood friends was Rantok, who currently is
a priest in the Dalem Temple in Kuta.

His father, Agus Pranoto, then the General Manager of the Kuta
Beach Hotel (now Inna Kuta Beach Hotel), was a chain smoker who
would go through five packs a day, but he was a kind-hearted man,
who recruited most of his employees from the surrounding Kuta
area.

"Then, the relationship between the natives and the non-
Balinese was very warm and close. On Hindu festivities, the
Balinese always sent food and fruit to the non-Balinese. On
Muslim or Christian festivities, the migrants would return the
courtesy," he said.

In the late 60s, the area along Jl. Legian, where the
explosion took place, was undeveloped with dense palm trees
dominating the scene. People grew beans and fruit in the area.

"As a boy I used to steal bangkoang (juicy tuber commonly used
for fruit salad) there," Haji Bambang gleefully recalled.

"I am very attached to this area. I was born here. My placenta
was buried here, and I have spent most of my life here. Kuta is
my home. So the explosion really broke my heart. And what I fear
the most is if the terrorists eventually win," he said.

The terrorists would win if the people of Kuta started a
blaming game over the incident, or began questioning the loyalty
of it's non-Balinese population.

"We should not let this unity be destroyed by groundless
rumors or accusations, otherwise a grassroots conflict will
ensue, and thus give the terrorists their second victory. Don't
forget that the victims of the explosion came from various ethnic
and religious backgrounds. The Muslim village of Kepaon lost 12
of their people in the tragedy," he said.

"Those who committed this atrocity are animals and should not
be connected to any ethnicity, race or religion. Period," he
said.

Haji Bambang himself is very proud of both the Javanese and
Balinese blood in him. His grandfather was Raden Mas Bejo
Prawiro, a native of Tulungagung, East Java, who moved to Bali in
the 1920s and later joined the local freedom fighters. Bejo
Prawiro married Anak Agung Rai Mentik of the noble family of
Puri Pejeng Aji in Tegalang, Gianyar regency.

"Up to now we are still very close to the family of Puri
Pejeng Aji. I always inform the Cokorda (the Puri's elder) on any
important occasion in my family, and he always shows up on those
occasions," said the father of two children, Diah Laksmi Pratini,
21, and Agus Wisnu Aryanta, 17.

His heroic work has made him famous. He was among a few local
civilians who had unlimited access to the restricted blast area.
Ambassadors and ministers who visited the scene expressed their
gratitude for what he had done.

"My mother cried after reading a newspaper and realized that I
was famous. I begged her to pray for me so all this fame and
public attention would not go to my head," he laughed.

One week after the tragedy, the exhausting work and scorching
sun has made Haji Bambang's skin a shade darker, and caused a few
pounds to drop off, as well.

"Put a tail on my back and put me in a cage, and the people
will surely think I'm a little monkey," he quipped.

Well, this "little monkey" has certainly taught everybody
about the genuine spirit of brotherhood and the sort of love that
overcomes racial, ethnic and religious differences.