First In Contact : Disaster. Palu, Central Sulawesi.

Sea and row of mountains laid over one side, of what was said to be blocked by houses before the tsunami. It is too insensitive of a statement, but one could only gather bits of positive lookout after such a traumatic occurrence. We roamed around as I documented every sight of destroyed buildings that remained along tranquil nature as if the once giant monster had been put to sleep. It was my first day of the duty and the endless sight of severe damages still put me to disbelief. There was a limit to what I can comprehend the cascade took a toll, no matter how bad the wreck looks, my mind simply can't go beyond. I don't think those who have experienced it is capable either.

At one point the car stopped and made a turn. I asked why and my peer casually said he could not spot the place we headed for lunch, must have been swept off.

taken from a moving car, Palu Sulawesi Indonesia.

Tsunami was only one impact of the earthquake. Next stop was the liquefaction sites. The term is rarely heard, much like it is to happen. The next time I know, the look of apocalyptic no-man's land had never been that close. To put simply, the soil loses strength and liquifies like mud, as it sucks, buries repeatedly whatever on top and hardened back over time. Victims underground most likely will never be found. Not because it is technically impossible, but more to the fact that the bodies must have been wrecked as it likely to spread harmful bacteria to the health, at least that was what stated to justify the evacuation discharge. Houses had gone astray despite how precise the place was figured to be, made it impossible for the persistent victim's relative on any attempted independent discovery. The news stated that the ground will be kept as it is, excavation won't be done to flatten it like once had been. Most of the damaged houses were removed for easier access and to prevent prolonged trauma.

The mundane items scattered all over places: clothes, holy book, trophy, and innocent kids' belongings, to mention a few. The cars wreckage made a sight of unimaginable causality, thrust to the ground, up down, sideways. Some happened to look like showroom cars, with a price tag attached still. Some had both of airbags flopped, once inflated. We could cluelessly conclude they might be more fortunate, emerged on the surface among many more that were hopelessly buried beneath.

I spotted some of the passer-by covering their noses only then to be reminded that the place might still retain the smell to it, I did not acknowledge anything noticeable and for the most part, much of its atmosphere suggest no presence of the living that I lost touch to the fact that they were not just soil and wreckages.. Although it might also be caused by the memory of earlier much stronger scent one-month post-earthquake that drag people's recollected reflex until now, three months later.

There was guilt in being curious to go to such a place. This project is part of aid relief in many forms, and therefore I could not help to see the importance of being on site although my part might be not as technical compared to the previous wave of SPI and army's workers (more to that on different post).

The inanimate objects is one thing, the eyes that were taken aback by flashing memory from people I talked to is another thing. Both amount to more variables on mind's attempt toward the incomprehensible disastrous tragedy before anyone's eyes, that had it subconsciously embedded within us to be unlikely to happen. It definitely still lingered in the survivors as two minor earthquakes (which I experienced first-hand there) was enough to spark trauma-induced conversation among the neighbors.

This first post, like Palu had on my first impression, is an entrance to a more length-project that was done over there.

Starry Night

The stars were as exaggeratingly beautiful as dramatically portrayed in the film, except that I saw it before my eyes. A few shooting stars marked the wishful hopes, when I have long stopped praying. the first hesitation was soon replaced by magical why not, things happen nonetheless and you have too little capacity to know if those are from the stars. The camera was too technically far behind to capture all glitters of the night, and why should it bother as once captured it will soon become too flat to ever represents a tiny bit of this much-loaded immersion. The mind, the only thing to rely on with a certain mechanical limit it has, ended up to be the only tool to squeeze in much of this rare immense momentary view into. One can be a little cynic over the language used by the poet but how else can you articulate the jumbled sensations.

The oysters were fresh from the sea, and the mother showed us the foreigner and me being the domestic visitor, the way to crack it open. The flashlight was much help to the curious mind, the smell was barely fishy at all. The ocean behind us crashed the waves together with the noises from delighted urban people, cheering as the mother served the oyster raw straight from her knife. "It's good for fertility". It did not taste fishy and not smelly.. if anything it was a slight sweetness to it. A few oysters later, I left the group and sat beneath the tree, joining two local boys and a friend.

They were talking about the tide, boat, fishes, season. The boys were aged same as me, one is a year younger but both have taken the lead of this whole village island. I do not know how, the senses in the structure don't necessarily apply on this tiny secluded island. I've always seen him blowing a puff of smoke out of his endless amount of cigarettes as if that's the only way his lung could breathe. Leaving tomorrow, they are concerned about the weather to sail, reminded by the recent accident that happened. Being curious with information that doesn't contribute to peace of mind, I prompted them to explain more. His dad shooshed him from behind and walked past. It basically happened on the way back from a wedding ceremony held on the island, and nobody survived. "Can't you tell from the sky color?" "yes but the horizon has a limit, you don't know what the sky looks over that line from the land. A sudden change of weather is possible." He added some soothing lines to make up his fear-inducing story but my mind has raced scenarios on how to make it alive on a drowning ship. What happened on the next day aside (nothing much thankfully), that night has a taste of sea and stars I can keep myself to sleep back in the city, much like scenes of drowning keeps me awake. Meanwhile, did the oysters actually do something to the fertility? I'll never know.

And a slight reminder, Singapore will always be too small of a city to ever take away your long to experience the big world.

Crossing The Border

The bus turned to the bridge, smoothly crossed over  as the sea laid a view on the side. On the far sight was the big land, not just a land because a concept of nation has built a package of different system, society, a whole different world. That's why they say something about "new place new experience". Ahead was a country of Malaysia, and as the bus head on, I left Singapore behind.

The thing about crossing border by road-trip is the experience of duality by being physically close to both nation yet like a portal send you somewhere new, it is as if you're entering a new world. Now it might sound pretentious but let me illustrate with Agustinus Wibowo's experience written on his book. He was by the side border of Afghanistan and Turkmenistan, yet the sight of two zone of the same ground reveal the sight of a stretched one century apart civilization. Turkmenistan had cars passing by while in Afghanistan using donkey as transportation were still common. It is not about a century apart civilization I try to pick up, it is about the mind boggling ideas of two zone. So close in distance yet so far in concept, in none of unit of measure could tell.

Crossing border give that sorts of feeling. The warning road sign has changed the language, it tickled me with realization : different zone different language different behavior. welcome!

At first it was a delight to see hills, trees, such an endless green fields. But it literally became endless, when hour by hour passed by no sight of city could be seen. It was still green fields, palm trees, and billboard and it has been five hours. Even my nap duration could not keep up with it.

Another strange feeling was the first time you tap your feet to the ground, especially when it's your first trip to that country. As the bus started to move in slow motion I ran back to keep myself near so my phone could reach the bus wifi zone. Message was sent in a panic tap before the wifi too, left me. I said I have arrived and she could meet me on the agreed spot. The bus had ran off  caring about its business and left me alone in the strange land. It does not care it is your first solo trip, or how much tackling this means to you.

When you had no clue about your surrounding, or that's what your mind made it out to be, you got to  keep your face normal, keep it cool. Lucky our country had so much in common it was not so frightening. At first I talked to them in English but as days passed by I did not bother to because they got it in second when I spoke Bahasa.

This is Ramadhan month and most of people were fasting, it could have been a greater trip if I took some physical outdoor activity such as hiking up to the hills.. but being in Malaysia during Ramadhan offered its own perk, it gives so much glimpse of strong atmosphere Singapore was lacking of. By 6 pm we always wandered around Bazaar to buy some foods. It was not meant to be the main course but we always ended up getting full on starter dishes!! You just could not handle yourself to finally see two dollars worth a proper fulfilling meal when you've been in Singapore for too long! Mind you it is a bazaar and rows of booth showed food in your face, mocking your drool. We did not really plan things out but turned out it was different Bazaar we went to everyday. Sometimes it was Malay-Thai dominated, sometimes a little bit of Chinese too, and last day was Arabian foods!! It was hard to pick favorites, deep fried are easy to like.. But Tom Yam and Hainan Chicken Rice was on point, so was the kebab which costed only $2.4 for the huge size. Cooked by original Mid-eastern people, it did not have the loads of mayonnaise and cheese you would get in American food, but it definitely tasted just right and cultured. If that's the right word.

I like the sight of different cultures and race on the street. People speak Arabic, Indian, Chinese, Malay on street, mostly are like us, in search of food. Music played on the street sometimes it was dangdut. I love the street food culinary experience here.

I bought Indian dishes too! the colorful dish spread along the table, I expected them to be sweet. Out of the three kind I bought, my favorite is the milky white one and it smell and tasted like milk too. I wish I bought more to home... Not that Singapore won't have it but economically speaking.. well. Also it is quite hard to find there.

To that shout out to Anya, Ira my childhood friend and Mba Nindy, they had me gain all the appetite back the whole journey, and I could not thankful enough for their company and accommodation.

We went to Batu Cave too where temple and Hindu statues were placed side by side with nature. We went excited seeing crowds of birds. Rice were scattered all over the ground and my friend tried to collect the remains to later toss in the air and made a new small group of birds. Kids were running after birds. Suddenly all the birds made a motion toward a spot where family (at least what they seemed to be) took out a bag of rice and feed them.

After almost a week staying there and my budget has run out for food, I had to go back to Singapore. The bus had no wifi but oddly the journey felt shorter. The driver spoke out loud on phone and sang once in awhile like the world was his, my nap was cut now and then.

By the time the bus about to get on the bridge, the feeling emerged again. The buildings from far sight were the typical HDB in Singapore. As we cross the bridge, I went unexpectedly happy if I had tail it might wiggle. I was awestruck by the fact that I am happy to be back to... Singapore. I had subconsciously made it a second home regardless how much mediocrity my life had been there. The road sign was now in English and well.. more prohibition come along.

Malaysia from the distance

Singapore from the distance