lobster

We set sail across the midnight blue waters of the Indian Ocean toward Pulo Aceh just as the noonday sun reached its pinnacle. It was a beautiful clear day, and I had worn short sleeves just for such a semi-tanning opportunity (women here wear long sleeves only, a cultural imperative I try to abide by). Since I can’t estimate feet very well, I’ll just say our wood-frame boat was longer than a ski boat, but shorter than a luxury yacht. There was an enclosed area for storage and one for the pilot, situated strategically over the long metal bar he balanced on, steering the rudder with his feet. My teammates and I relaxed on the floor of the deck, soaking in the sun and spectacular scenery.

Careening through mile after mile of Indonesian islands, I was astounded by the beauty that unfolded before me. Towering mountain peaks, coated to their tips with trees and vegetation. Secluded beaches nestled in tiny coves, with white-capped waves tumbling and crashing onto their shores. It was Nature at its most magnificent. Yet, amid the brilliance, every shoreline still bore the visible scars of the tsunami, with only reemerging greenery wrapping the landscape’s border with the ocean. Like a rim stretching 20, 30, even 100 yards inland, a distinct line evidenced what was vibrant and what was recovering.

As we reached Pulo Aceh about two hours later, the scene was the same – lingering marks on the land of the tragedy, but an unencumbered natural beauty rivaling few other places I’ve ever seen. It was an undeveloped, untouched paradise. A few dozen villagers greeted us, and a staff member who had been staying there packed us into our four-wheel-drive truck, which I soon learned was the only motorized vehicle on the island. The curvy, dirt roadways had been reconstructed following the tsunami and had the makings of a great off-roading trail. We bounced around in the truck bed, the tires sloshing and slinging mud, and I felt like I was back in the Delta!

Before the tsunami, there were about 25 villages on the island, now there are 17. The disaster claimed the lives of entire communities, and up to 80% of the people in the remaining villages. Survivors are now living in government-built barracks made mostly of tin and plywood, resembling summer camp cabins at their worst. Residents now depend on faulty water tanks and live amid deteriorating sanitation conditions. This is where our current work in Pulo Aceh begins – to build dependable new water systems by tapping into fresh water springs from the nearby mountains, along with working to improve the overall living situation.

Hiking up to the system construction sites was like walking through a rainforest. Our lead engineer kept shouting, “Watch out for the wild boars!” Thankfully, I never saw any, but heard lots of rumblings in the bushes! Our engineering teams designed the concept of water system and dam, but the local people are building it, creating a sense of ownership and pride within them and their communities. Utilizing the downward slope of the mountains and a natural spring, fresh clean water will flow freely into the villages below. One of the projects should be completed in a few weeks, having taken around two months to complete in its entirety. Needless to say, everyone is excited!

Later, we walked on the deserted beaches at sunset, listening to the thundering waves and picking up shells. Lying amid acres of stone-white coral, the shells' hues were vibrant and distinctly pure. After a Ramadan breaking fast dinner at one of the villages, we talked long into the night with colleagues from Britain and our new friends from the island. I slept soundly in the tent, and awoke in the morning to a scene of palm trees, blue waters and fog-draped mountains. Turkish coffee and crackers kick-started the day and fueled me for an early hike to another water construction site. When we came down the mountain a little while later, the Lobster Tale began...

Apparently, the last time our lead engineer, Teh, was on the island he mentioned liking fresh fish and that he should perhaps get some next time he was there. So, as we’re coming down the mountainside, two small fishing boats are easing toward the shore, and we hear a distant voice from the water’s edge, “Mr. Teh! Miss Bonnie! We have fish! We have fish!” We hopped in the four-wheel drive and sped over to see the catch. Even though the locals were fasting for Ramadan and wouldn’t be eating the fish themselves, they had gone out and caught fish just for us – and they were enormous! Red snapper, barracuda, tuna, an ocean catfish (who knew?), and even a shark. The locals clamored around, and the Brits soon caught on to what was happening, too. But amid the chaos brewing around our instant mini-fish-market, one of the fisherman motioned us off to the side, “Here, here, look here. Special for you.”

And then we saw it – the dripping-wet cage filled with absolutely gigantic lobster! I shrieked aloud, and I think my colleagues all did as well. Teh questioned me excitedly, “Which one do you want? Which one do you want?” I tried to pin-point one or two but they were all so huge it was impossible to decide. We paused simultaneously, looked at each other and nodded. He turned to the fisherman and said, “Pack them up, we’ll take them all.”

Seventeen lobster, two red snapper, and one ocean catfish later, we headed back to Banda, having invested significantly in the local economy for a price that would have been unheard of in the States, even in Maine. That night we rallied our whole staff for Banda Aceh Lobster Boil 2005 and feasted on massive crustaceans, fried ocean catfish and grilled red snapper until we couldn’t eat another bite.

Hardship conditions? I think not.

And to perpetuate my “suffering,” I’m actually headed out on another island jaunt today. It’s the end of Ramadan, and celebrations abound like Christmastime back home. Since all of our local staff is gone (as is everyone else, too), seven of us are headed to Sabang island for the next four days, home of such areas as Pulo Weh which is among the top diving and snorkeling sites in the world. Unlike Pulo Aceh, it’s developed to some degree (or so we’ve heard) and has resorts, huts, and a restaurant… oh, and a pristine lagoon as well!

Yes, I know – I’m supposed to be over here toiling away doing good deeds, and I’m eating lobster and island hopping. Who would’ve thought? But, seriously, I look at it as a God-given chance to step away from the weight of day to day conditions in both life and work here, so I’m thankful… very thankful. But I will be taking my laptop with me to do some work, so I'm not goofing off completely!

I’ll be moving into the new house when I get back, and the new offices are nice – much quieter and a bigger work space. However, it did take me about four days to find the “western-style” toilet. I thought all we had was the squattie pottie and had been using that one, or walking back next door!

Keep the notes and prayers coming – they’re much needed and appreciated! And I’ll update as often as I can. Oh, and don't forget to check out Pulo Aceh photos. Gene said he'd be posting them soon!

Love from Banda,
Bonnie Aceh