Sometimes I am completely surprised by events which turn out so differently from what I expected, and maybe that’s the best way to describe my last week out on the Indonesian island of Nias.
You see, I had read through the contractual details of the Wellspring Nias Food Distribution program, and frankly, I wondered to myself how much good this one-time effort could possibly do, especially happening 14 months after the tsunami. I had been in the jungle village of Sirombu a year before, and I had listened to pontificating Indonesian politicians ceremoniously proclaim how there would be some sort of life-changing rebuilding effort (that each seemed quite willing to take credit for creating), and I doubted almost every word.
So, at best, I figured this would be an opportunity to get some valuable footage of a small program that, if I framed the shots carefully enough, might be able to be used in some future Wellspring identity piece. In other words, my natural cynicism was dangerously coloring all my perceptions.
And that’s the problem with presumption, isn’t it? Because what I witnessed, and what I will hope to show you from the 6 hours of tape and 300 stills that I brought back, is one of the more inspiring Wellspring stories of triumph over adversity and God-directed support for grateful and resourceful people; and I was humbled by the blessings that this week gave me.
Now, saying that, I gotta tell you also that this is NOT the place to take a bunch of Wellspring supporters to show off the project. You remember how last year the car ride from the airport to Sirombu took 3 and a half hours, over the most twisted, rutted roads I’ve ever been on, anywhere. Well, it’s much worse now. The 8.7 earthquake last March literally broke the road into pieces all along the route, and it collapsed quite a few of the bridges over the jungle creeks and ravines completely. Moreover, the re-building effort that began last Fall required a constant flow of 5-ton trucks to forge their way across the 4 or 5 mountains and valleys, gutting out ridiculously deep potholes (or actually, “pot-ravines”) over the entire 60 kilometer one lane “road”.
Five of six times we actually left the vehicles to walk (or slide) up or down the muddy, rocky hills, so that the drivers could take a run at getting across particularly treacherous sections. We came to one “bridge” that consisted of 6 logs laid lengthwise across the drop-off, with no crossbeam support; so the trick was to guide the tires into the slots between the logs and hope that they didn’t roll apart.
At another point, our driver had to stop and pour water over the brake pads to cool them off enough for us to proceed “safely”.
The ride this time took 5 and a half hours to go 60 Kilometers. In fact, one of the Wellspring trucks bringing the food packages actually tipped over on the way; the drivers were able to salvage most of the canned goods and bottled cooking oils, but they were so apologetic about losing the boxes with the Wellspring logo. (As your representative, I reassured them that the main thing was the recovered food and their safety.)
We finally arrived at the newly opened housing complex late in the night, after the hardest rains had let up. There were 7 of us in the group. Frans and Gina Sugiarta, from United in Diversity, had been coming out here on a regular basis to monitor the progress of the rebuilding efforts. They brought two of their staff from Jakarta, Arif (a guy) and Mundi (not a guy). Also, Indonesia’s Time Magazine affiliate, Tempo, sent a reporter, Agustina Hariati (also not a guy). And the group was completed with my great friend and fellow camerman, Pandoyo, from the YCAB production crew, and me (the tallest guy on the island).
We stayed in of the duplexes built for the refugees, which had two bedrooms each (literally, room-for-a-bed), a larger living room, and a door to the outside Asian-style bathroom (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, consider yourself privileged). To go to sleep each night, we would open the bedroom doors, spray heavy clouds of Deet into the room, slam the door shut, wait for the poison to take effect, quickly slide into the room slamming the door behind, and then brush the dead mosquito bodies off of the sheets.
Frans jokingly referred to it as the Million Star Hotel, because you could walk outside, look up, and with no light pollution anywhere, gaze up into God’s most amazing canopy (as long as you had plenty of Deet slathered over your body).
I woke up early the next morning (OK, I was slightly freaked out about all the mosquitoes I had brushed from of my bed the night before, and I figured lounging in the rack was probably not a great idea). I wandered back into the settlement looking for good early morning shots. And it was right about then that I began to notice that people had begun to personalize each house…, with gardens, with cages for their chickens, or with small fences surrounding courtyards. There was even a small market and breakfast café that someone had opened out of one of the duplexes. Then the kids starting coming out, and walking off to school; and in the midst of this new morning activity, the trucks bringing construction workers began to rumble into the village. There was no pavement at all, put the sand was packed hard, so people were riding small motorcycles and bicycles in between the rows of duplexes; and I began to get a sense of how big and how vibrant this place might be.
Breakfast was brought to us from the residents – fresh fruit, baked bread, nasi goring (Indonesian fried rice), and that Achenese coffee that’s so strong you have to pour it into the saucer to separate the liquid from the grounds. Everyone was smiling; and the excitement of the upcoming distribution ceremony was beginning to spread throughout the village.
We actually attended two separate distribution ceremonies, but they functioned essentially the same way. The residents had been issued coupons by the elected head of the village that entitled them to a 22 kg (45 pound) box of foodstuffs and a 10 kg (12 pound) bag of rice each. Each box was wrapped in bright green and red gift paper (just a little surreal!) with the Wellspring logo on white paper attached to one end. In the box were quite a few tins of sardines, cooking oil, soy sauces, sugar, tea and coffee, crackers, and instant milk. Gina told me that they had purposefully asked the villagers what they wanted, and these were the items they all requested. “We were prepared to give them whatever we could,” she explained, “but this is what they eat, and what they can best use to fix the foods they can buy from the local fishermen and the fruit sellers. And each box will a each family for a full month.”
The lines of people to get the boxes and rice were long and colorful, with people of all ages brandishing their coupons. As the village head began to hand over the first boxes (always a ceremony for everything in Indonesia!), the lines surged forward and a controlled chaos became the order of the day. Old women enlisted help from young boys (or from Frans and Arif and the rest of us) to help them carry their boxes to some open ground. Some younger women hoisted these boxes and rice bags onto their heads and walked off smiling. Others strapped boxes onto bicycles or onto the backs of motorbikes. It was loud; it was happy; it was chaotic; and was completely wonderful.
At one point, I saw a young mother using rubber straps to attach the box to her bike. Her 10-year old son helped steady the bike, and her one year old had her seat firmly attached to the handlebars. I have to admit that when I saw the Wellspring logo, smudged with sand and ripped around the edges, on the back of that bike, with the baby looking back at me, and the young boy and Mom laughing as they figured out how to transport the bag of rice too, it occurred to me that this was the most beautiful the logo had ever looked.
Do you know how difficult it is to focus a camera through teardrops?
Each ceremony lasted about an hour, and the memorable sights and sounds etched themselves deeply into my soul. This was a good thing Wellspring had done; and I had been privileged to see the fruit of Wellspring’s finest efforts.
Do you remember the small clearing where we sweltered as the local politicians harangued the crowd last year? I NEVER thought that clearing would ever be used for anything, but I was only partially correct. It now is the entranceway to the reconstructed village, where Philippine construction crews are building a complex of 239 homes, utilizing 15 crews (plus painters, plumbers, electricians and the like, working separately) who are finishing an average of two duplexes PER DAY. This is a massive effort that is incomparably successful. In fact, the official Bureau of Reconstruction and Rehabilitation cites Nias (and Sirombu especially) as one of the more exemplary projects of the entire tsunami recovery effort.
This is a story the whole world should study and learn from, about how to build a new community literally from the ground up; because remember, after the tsunami came the earthquake. It was a One-Two punch that would have finished many populations. Instead, we were staying at a Million Star Hotel!
I met so many of the residents, but it was the kids who captured my heart. Andy was a 12-year old guy who escorted me through HIS village on HIS terms, showing me the best places to shoot pictures. He made me take a picture of him, so I wouldn’t forget. Hilda was maybe 7, a sweet young girl who taught me that the Bahasa word for “beautiful” is “cantik” and that I should apply it to her (and who was I to disagree?). Amy was so shy and so polite; Erwin was the fastest talking 8-year old I’ve ever met – he should be a master politician (or a terrific salesman) some day.
The point is, they have come through these terrible crises, but they are now happily rebuilding their village, their homes, and their lives; Muslim and Christian families, side by side, in harmony and with graciousness. Wellspring has been a part of that; and that is the greatest blessing I can imagine.
God is so present on Nias! Seventeen different villages across the island received food from this Wellspring project (helping to feed more than 1,200 families for a month). What a privilege to witness His Glory so obviously manifested in faces of the residents and the efforts of those people working in these remote and rebuilt settlements! Wellspring responded "heart-ly" (as Gina described it last February), and that was clearly proven to be the God-ly thing to do.
I can't wait to show you the footage!
Bob Tigert ("Bule Keren")