Writing for Relief

By Jacqueline Koch
AsiaMedia Contributing Writer

Serambi's staff talk about destruction and rebuilding and a newspaper that works for its community, writes Jacqueline Koch from Indonesia

Banda Aceh, Indonesia -- A dusty yellow banner strung across a series of store fronts flaps in the strong breeze. The large blue letters read, "Temporary Offices of Serambi Indonesia." As with nearly everything in Banda Aceh -- families, businesses, government offices, and schools -- the local daily newspaper had to relocate and improvise in the wake of the tsunami.

Recovering from the disaster is one thing, but reporting on it and resuming publication were added pressure for the staff of Serambi. Even three months after the catastrophe, strong earthquakes and unsettling aftershocks continue to rumble through the capital city of the province. The remaining infrastructure is weak, electrical blackouts are still rampant and many areas still have no power. Routine network disturbances make telecommunications dodgy at best.

Despite the lingering problems, over the last three months, the situations is greatly improved says photojournalist Bedu Saini. "Now things are more normal, but our computers are still limited."

Right after the water from the great torrent receded, political reporter Nurdin Hasan rode a motorcycle straight to the office. "When I saw the place, it was totally destroyed, I was speechless." From the window, he could see the extent of the damage.

"No homes were standing, and I couldn’t do anything." Working his way up to the second floor, Hasan made a grisly discovery. "I saw a body on the stairs, I tried to identify him, but I couldn’t even think." In the newsroom, he saw that all the computers were damaged but still on the desks. But when he returned the next morning, they were gone. "I believe at night, thieves came to loot the computers." The only thing Hasan managed to salvage was his camera cable to download pictures he had taken. "The important things, all my documents, old pictures, they all have been destroyed."

When news of the extensive damage and horrific death toll in Aceh reached the rest of Indonesia, six journalists from Kompas, the main Jakarta-based national daily that owns Serambi, arrived from various parts of the country. "They brought computers and worked really hard to get us back up and running," says Saini. The journalists who came to help even slept in the initial space they had relocated to, Saini adds. "They never left the office."

A handful of computers, even for a diminished newsroom staff presented problems however. The scene is perhaps best illustrated by a Xerox copy, hanging on the wall of the reception office. A black and white picture shows the staff editors stripped down to their undershirts, crammed together behind their computer terminals, sweating profusely. Below, the large typeface reads: "Its hot!!! It’s really hot! What sin did we commit to deserve working in a composing room that feels like hell!?!"

Saini adds, "There was a long line of reporters queuing up to file." The paper used a generator to run its operations, but at the time, lines for scarce gasoline wrapped around the block.

The temporary office also served as a de-facto refugee camp. The tsunami demolished large swathes of residential areas and more than 50 percent of the staff were left homeless, Saini included. Surviving employees not only had to fill in for 52 colleagues who disappeared, but track down their own family and friends -- a near-impossible task given that telecommunications facilities were destroyed and nearly all hand phones had been swept away in the torrent.

"We had no contact with friends and employees," says deputy editor, Mohammad Din. Thousands of people were dead, still missing, dislocated and camped out in refugee shelters."

In the aftermath of the disaster and the arrival of massive international aid, foreign troops and NGOs, Hasan’s reporting has taken an unprecedented turn. Headlines dominating the front page highlight the reconstruction effort, the extraordinary aid effort by foreigners, government plans to limit the presence of international NGOs and indications of government corrupted use of donor funds, an endemic problem in Indonesia.

For Hasan, as with many of the Acehnese trying to rebuild their lives, the long-running conflict between the Indonesian troops and separatist rebels of GAM is no longer the main story. "It is reconstruction and rehabilitation," he says. His current reporting is focused on how the government will go about formulating a blueprint for rebuilding the province. "It should be with the people of Aceh," Hasan says.

He observes that initial plans were made without the input of the local population. "Now after local NGOs stepped in, they are trying to supplement the plans." After consistently reporting on the issue, Hasan feels Jakarta has attempted to make room for the aspirations of the provincial government, Muslim religious organizations, all the way down to the village and grass roots level.

In the days immediately following the deadly earthquake and wave, when Serambi returned to the newspaper stands, it took on a vital public service role. Din says the editorial staff decided that the paper would serve as a catalyst for hope and help to victims attempting to recover and reunite. "We try to help them by giving cheap ads," he says of "Missing Persons" announcements, which blanket the inside pages of the paper.

"The first day, the paper was full." And the ads were published for free. Photos of family members who vanished, their age, residence, the clothing and jewelry they wore, along with distinctive characteristics, still run daily now three months later. In addition, Serambi immediately established a free hotline to help survivors locate loved ones.

"We got our spirits together by helping the people," Din says. Though their resources were incredibly limited, the staff also offered logistical support to the influx of foreign journalists arriving to cover horrific tragedy. Up until then, international media had been banned from Aceh by the military occupation.

For Hasan, Serambi’s quick return was a key element to keep the public from being sucked into a cycle of misinformation.

"The majority of the people in Aceh have never had CNN -- they only had Serambi," he says.
"We tried to counter many rumors." Amidst worries about the outbreak of highly contagious diseases and the high possibility of another devastating quake, bouts of widespread panic broke out. Hasan describes how anxious survivors left the city to escape an outbreak of cholera and slept out in the street to stay safe from another seismic event. So the paper attacked the issues and published reports with accurate information to help readers find strength in the midst of so much chaos and fear.

"We interviewed experts with UN agencies," says Hasan of the illness outbreak, "and the people came back."

The editorial staff has tried to focus on a positive future for the people of Aceh, covering topics like early warning systems offered by the Japanese and German governments and the renewed peace talks in Helsinki, Finland between the Indonesian government and GAM leaders. Stories of ongoing clashes in other parts of the province have taken a definitive backseat.

"Stories on the peace talks bring hope," concludes Hasan. And he feels that at this time, Aceh needs hope more than anything else.

Local journalists in Aceh have a substantial and complicated new beat to cover: the massive international aid effort, which is largely coordinated by the UN. Reporters spend long days chasing down high-level UN delegations, former US presidents, UN special envoys, international prime ministers and celebrities such as Malaysian film star Michelle Yeo and American Idol runner-up, Clay Aiken.

Last week, on March 25, the eve of the three-month anniversary of the tsunami, Hasan was at a press conference pitching questions to UN deputy special envoy for tsunami recovery, Erskine Bowles.

At the end of a string of long and demanding days, Hasan is surprisingly philosophical about what has happened in his homeland and how readily the Acehnese have managed to reclaim their lives. "Even though they lost everything -- house, job, family -- they are still strong," he says. He cites a phrase often heard among the residents picking up the pieces of their lives in Aceh, a place often called the "Veranda of Mecca."

"We belong to God. God took what is his and those who survived know they too will go to God," Hasan says. "That is why they are still smiling," he concludes.

Hasan himself is smiling too. Though he lost many friends and colleagues, his wife and children are safe. He also has faith, "God will not test us this way again." His career has taken a leap forward. Not only has he stepped into a new post as the president of Aceh Independent Journalist Organization, in April, he has been invited as a special guest to attend a conference at the University of Washington Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma Center. For himself and the Acehnese, in light of the tragic conflict and the disastser, he is optomistic. "We have good prospects for Aceh, we have help from outside."

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Jacqueline Koch is a freelance photojournalist and reporter. Her work has been published in Time, Newsweek, The Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, The Sidney Morning Herald and Salon.com. Based near Seattle, she is a regular contributor to Pacific Northwest, The Seattle Times Sunday magazine. Koch is a Pew Fellow of International Reporting at Johns Hopkins University; her project focuses on post-Suharto Indonesia and she is traveling through Aceh for several weeks.

The views expressed above are those of the author and are not necessarily those of AsiaMedia or the UCLA Asia Institute.

Date Posted: 3/28/2005