Painted plywood

I found something I wrote 10 years ago and never shared (I suppose I had a blog post in mind? not sure). Incredible memories of our work in the Mentawai archipelago (Indonesia). One big adventure for me, but daily life, and struggle, for both my colleagues and the people we were trying to support.?

It's tempting to edit something you wrote ten years ago, and tone down some of that white saviour speak. But here you have it, in its entirety.

Thank you for the incredible memories at Mercy Corps Doddy, Arianto, Peter, Budi, Aniza, Agus, Paul, Sean, Mona, Afrizaldy and the many more not on Linkedin!

--------Written in October 2011----------

From flak jacket to life jacket: from Iraq to Indonesia.

Painted plywood, cigarette smell and a bed half as long as me: First Class they say, and First Class it is indeed.

The journey to the Mentawai Islands, off Sumatra’s West Coast, starts with the view of a rusty ferry loading cattle and cars. I know I will have to spend the next twelve hours in there and I’d better digest the idea quickly.

I’m traveling with five colleagues to the areas affected by the October 2010 tsunami, where Mercy Corps is implementing emergency and recovery programs.??They look serene, like those that know there’s no alternative. Like my colleagues in Iraq, a smile before entering a car bound to the field, hiding any bad thoughts deep in the back of the mind, and yet very conscious of what is at stake.

I traded my flak jacket for a life jacket. It’s here in my First Class cabin now, courtesy of Mercy Corps, as was the other.

The dramatic coastal landscape now fades into open sea while it gets dark.??The ferry is shaky and for some reason I think of that Diego on National Geographic presenting “Don’t tell my mother” – I bet he’d love this.??I couldn’t resist asking the captain if I can ‘drive’ the boat for a short while, I felt we clicked since I’m basically staying in his room.??“Tidak apa-apa”, no problem he said, I suspected it.??The crew distributed anti-seasick pills, the kind that knocks you out - they warned.??I never suffered of motion sickness in general, but I feel psychologically pressured into being sick after the whole office sounded so worried about me. And I thought I was the cool guy from Iraq!

I didn’t take the pill, had the Italian remedy instead – a whole pasta box.??And while I’m here feeling invincible and trying to digest, I’m also thinking that I should let people know that staff working in this part of the globe is not exactly going on a holiday.??The hardship and complications of mounting an operation like that of Mercy Corps in the Mentawai are paralyzing: lack of transportation from, to, between and within the islands; there are no materials to be found on the islands and it’s virtually impossible to find a supplier willing to deliver to the isolated locations where Mercy Corps works. Add a sprinkle of bad weather and fuel shortage and you have the “perfect [logistics] storm”.??

I won’t go into the “awesome job” cliché.??Perhaps it is not an awesome job; perhaps it’s just fine. And yet sometimes, just like this boat, getting the job done is all we wish for.

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Part 2

Had I known.

Had I known the ferry was the easiest part of it, I would have doubled my life insurance.??This story is a follow up of the previous “From flak jacket to life jacket” and it’s being written on laptop battery while ants crawl up my feet and a guitar plays under the office porch.??I would normally be against these moments of random jubilee during working hours, but Mentawai taught me that there’s only one thing that keeps the operation going over here: staff morale.?And if a song is the price to pay for it, for being greeted by a crowd of worried colleagues at night after 15 hours out in the field, soaked in mud and rain, you can call it a good deal.?

In the past week or so I visited all Mercy Corps projects across three of Mentawai’s four main islands.??From Sikakap, Mercy Corps’ main base on Pagai Utara Island, we traveled by foot, motorbike, car and boat to locations so remote that it’s hard to believe we actually managed to get (and work) there.??

While most of the staff is based in Sikakap and travels extensively to the field, a group of them created a base on Sipora Island (photo).??Life over there is deprived even of the small treats you can find in Sikakap, such as running water and occasional electricity.??They sleep in tents next to a traditional house abandoned after the tsunami, which they use as common living area.??Despite receiving a presidential welcome after the three odd hours by boat to get there, I have to admit that on day two (and last) I was already tired of the scorching heat and the creatures living in the water reservoir.??Our colleagues, from Mercy Corps and local partner READY, as well as an IOM team, have been there for a year now.

Sikakap, a town so sad to make you regret Sipora… is an ideal location for a base, as it occasionally offers those services necessary to run an office.??However, while being in the geographical middle of our projects, it is in fact far from everything!

A day in the field:

Yesterday we started early and before 8am all the motorbikes had been transferred by boat to the southernmost island of Pagai Selatan. My colleagues and I were now sitting on the same boat for the 15 minutes crossing.??Four of us would be travelling to Limu - three hours south - by car, while the other four would be driving the motorbikes, indispensable to move any further than Limu.??Around 11am we reached the end of the drivable road, and the staff decided to have a bite before continuing, not knowing what to expect ahead after the heavy rain of the night before.

I should have noticed at this point that everyone was removing shoes, quite odd when you are about to drive a motorbike, and packing their sacks into heavy duty trash bags.??Once I started seeing the 1.5m-deep pools of mud… I understood.??And on we went, pushing, pulling, dragging and rarely driving the motorbikes through the 3km of what you’d map as a road but it’s in reality just a little dryer than a river.??After being literally sucked by a meter of mud, I dropped my shoes as well.??Two hours, one accident and an inquisitive snake later, we reached the village of Lakau Limousa, takeoff point for the isolated southern part.??

The road here gets better and one realizes how those three kilometers make this southern part a de-facto island of its own.??We finally have our “Three cups of tea” moment – jungle version – with coconuts, while discussing the projects with the villagers.???But what the book doesn’t mention is that it’s already time to think of plan B, how do we get back to Limu where the car is waiting for us?!?

Well, there is a boat, which in fact Mercy Corps donated to the community to create a more stable connection, but we’re not sure how to fit four motorbikes and eight people and, most of all, if there’s fuel to take us back to Limu.??But it’s a good plan B and we decide to try, using the fuel from one of the motorbikes and squeezing ourselves onboard, we fit! (photo)

In less than half hour we are back to Limu, tired but happy.??It’s 4:30pm and we have enough time to head home safely.??Or at least so we think.??In fact, we will reach the office only a broken bridge, violent storm and fallen tree later, at 10:30pm.

Tomorrow is time for me to say goodbye to the Mentawai.??I’m now even more proud of the staff than I was a week ago, after sharing with them meaningful and occasionally tough experiences.??Above all, I’ve learnt an important lesson: time has little value over here and I won’t be annoyed next time someone tells me “sebatang dulu” (a cigarette first) and takes a five minutes break – just enjoy it, you never know what’s going to happen next!