All Along the Watchtower

I've been finishing up my work obligations for this semester, and Yuli's been overseeing the convoy all week, so we haven't had much of a chance to update the blog, but we'll do a thorough update this weekend. In the meantime, I've culled some of the more interesting pictures from the last few days, and one or two small stories. I'm leaving some of the best for later, when Yuli and I have a chance to collaborate, because she's told me some wonderful stories about her visits this week.

For me, the brightest spot is a story I heard this morning. it seems one elderly villager who was on the road and missed the Convoy's visit, but not it's charity, a couple of days ago got himself all the way to Yuli's compound late yesterday afternoon (on a bicycle, perhaps) just to thank her (and you)! I haven't heard the details, but he tracked her down by word-of-mouth all the way from his village to her door, thanked her profusely, did not ask for more, and promised to make a thank you gift as soon as he had supplies again... that kind of recognition goes a long way.

One of the less wonderful but more interesting snippets was about a village she visited at the request of one of my colleagues from the University (an Islamic institution catering to the poorest segment of the community). Her motorcycle convoy, laden with relief supplies funded by the congregation of an American Episcopalian church, came to a stop in front of what used to be the town hall, next to what used to be the town mosque, to find a relief team from the Islamic Defenders Front on their way out of the area, and the area itself full of long-bearded men and heavily-clothed women. Some of the relief the town had already received bore the flags and logos of the IDF.

The IDF, for those of you for whom reading this blog constitutes most of your education about modern Indonesia, is the organization responsible for the annual pillaging of (and occasional violence at) restaurants and bars that serve alcohol during Idul Fitri, launching demonstrations and intimidation campaigns against "pornography" (a term which here encompasses both pictorial-less Playboy magazine and women exposing their navels (or lower arms or hair or... in public), and, most significantly, near-Taliban-like vigilante enforcement of Sharia law in destitute or recovering regions of the country, such as tsunami- and rebellion- -ravaged Aceh.

In short, the vibes were such that even Yuli's devoutly Islamic sister Dewi was shivering and scared, and wanted nothing more than to dump the supplies and turn around. Yuli, sadly, was too scared to take any photos, so a verbal anecdote is all we get. That said, the community WAS extremely grateful, and I like to think the convoy did its bit for religious tolerance.

Anyway -- on to the pictures, which paint a thousand words each, so I'll try to refrain.


Dinner preparations underway for a tented community. Most of the extremely rural communities are relying on the indigenous "jackfruit" for sustenance. When the convoy gets there, there's better nutrition for a couple of days.



Yuli is seeing more and more communities dragging themselves out of the shock, using more than a thousand years of training to fashion an existence of what remains around them and what comes to them from people like you.


This family has gotten washed and dressed for the evening meal at the relief shelter quite a bike ride down the road...



...while this father and son make the long desolate trek for a bucket of water. Even so, they must also perceive the small signs of progress around them...






...like this infant, who, with his elders, will finally have shelter at night, and escape from the sun in the day...














...and these brothers who, with their father nearby, assist in the demolition of their old home, which the quake left incomplete, so that they may also assist in the construction of their new one...







...and a community pitches in to raze the larger structures ...





...while others practice traditional healthcare on a village elder, and prepare to settle in for the night...



I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like for a)earthquake victims to see Merapi blow and feel the earth tremble in response, two weeks after everything around them is destroyed; or b) Yuli and her convoy to be heading home after hours of driving and succouring, and look out across the countryside as they hear and feel the erruption through their vehicles... when will it end? This is the blast that trapped two and may have buried six others where I stood about a month ago and took pictures of sandbags lugged up the lava slopes.



Well, it's a long hard road wherever we live. I know it's less hard when we enlarge our communities to seize opportunities to aid and love when they appear before us. Thank you again.