Julisa Tambunan's blog

Here I am (second from right) with the Global Citizen Corps team during a visit to Maluku, Indonesia. Photo: Mercy Corps Indonesia

When I was young and all the kids in my class wanted to become a doctor or an engineer, I wanted to be a diplomat.

I remember when I was in the middle school, I read a featured story in a local newspaper about a bunch of students from all over the world visiting the UN Headquarters in New York. I memorized the different skin colours on the pictures that came with that story. I envied those kids. I wished I had gotten a chance to go abroad and meet my peer group from around the world.

Twenty years later, I still remember the closing line of that story: "Let the older generation fight with their weapons, we are the peacemakers who believe in diplomacy." And that's how I wanted to become a diplomat.

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In life there are few unexpected, sometimes unwanted, events that can drastically change your life forever. For me, one of them is being deployed to the tsunami-stricken Mentawai Islands as part of Mercy Corps’ Indonesia Response Team last month.

I went back home with Chikungunya, a viral disease that is spread by mosquitoes, but also with a growing love for the place and the people I met there. The Mentawai Islands are beautiful, more beautiful than any other place I’ve ever visited in my 30 years of life — and believe me, I’ve traveled a lot. The people were incredibly strong and hopeful and that has never ceased to amaze me.

Children I met during my time in Mentawai. The boy with the headscarf lost all of his family members except his father in the tsunami. The pretty little girl was found on the top of a mango tree a day after the tsunami hit and hasn't said a word since. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

Today, as I browsed through the images I took in the islands, I struck at this particular image. And a swirl of memories from that day just came back to me in an instant.

It’s a photograph I took in Eruk Paraboat, a subvillage in South Pagai Island, where everything was practically swept away by the 15-metre-high wave on that one unfortunate evening of October 25th. I met these kids running around in what was left of their village. Seeing me with my camera, they rushed to me and greeted me friendly in the local Mentawai language, to which I could only reply with “Anai leu ita?” or “How are you?”, one of the few local expressions I picked up when I was there.

I couldn’t speak Mentawainese, and they didn’t understand any word in Bahasa Indonesia. But I went along and played with them on that devastated ground, took a lot of pictures and showed them the results on the small display screen of my camera. They were enormously happy.

Later, I found out that the boy with the headscarf lost all of his family members except his father in the tsunami. The pretty little girl was found on the top of a mango tree a day after the tsunami hit. She hasn't been able to talk ever since. But there they were, being remarkably resilient and changing my life forever.

When it was time for me to leave and continue my journey, I said to them, “Ku oba ekeu.”

It’s Mentawainese for “I heart you.”

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Part of our emergency response team in Mentawai. I'm in the middle. Photo: Mercy Corps Indonesia

I have spent more than 10 days in the Mentawai Islands now as part of Mercy Corps’ emergency response team. Today is exactly two weeks after I left Jakarta. Everything at home almost seems surreal to me now. Mercy Corps is staying for a minimum of six months to conduct a recovery programme in these tsunami-stricken islands.

Last weekend, we moved to a more appropriate place in Sikakap and set up a new “office” there. It’s a local village-style house, but the owner doesn’t live there anymore. A pretty, pretty place. It’s up on the hill with the view of the sea upfront. Everything is minimal, but that’s all we need.

Our team has grown into six people now. Each day, I come to a realization that I’m working alongside such amazing human beings. Under a lot of stress, we managed to laugh things off and keep the good spirit. “The biggest fear here is not the storm, it’s an invitation of endless coordination meetings!” one of us joked. For the last week, we've taken good care of each other — keeping one another strong, regardless of how helpless we often feel. These guys are unbreakable.

Immanuel Tegar, a three-week-old infant who was saved by the army in Munte Baru-baru, one of the most devastated villages. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

And that is exactly one of the most wonderful things I have learned while I’m here, how unbreakable human spirit is. I’m looking at a whole bunch of people who came all the way from many parts of Indonesia to help the survivors here. They are doctors, nurses, teachers, soldiers, college students and others with different expertise. Like us, these people are fighting the tropical cyclone and malaria threats daily to deliver assistance to the survivors. These people have restored my faith in humanity.

The other day, I went to an emergency hospital in Sikakap, where survivors who needed special treatments were flown here from their villages. This emergency hospital is actually a community church, used temporarily to treat the severely injured survivors.

I saw kids with bandages all over their faces who were laughing and playing with their toys. I saw Immanuel Tegar (roughly translated as “strong as rock”), a three-week-old infant who was saved by the army in Munte Baru-baru, one of the most devastated villages. His parents were found dead not long after. Immanuel himself was found in a gutter still alive and breathing, with only a scratch on his forehead. I thought about Harry Potter —the boy who lived.

Fourteen-year-old Liesda, who lost two sisters in the tsunami that wrecked her whole village of Sabeugunggung Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

There, I also talked to a 14-year-old girl named Liesda, who lost two sisters in the tsunami that wrecked her whole village of Sabeugunggung. The disaster severely injured her right leg. When I asked her what would be the first thing to do if she could walk again, she said, “I want to wash my clothes, they are dirty. And I want to cook, I want to eat what I want to eat. And I’ll go back to school.” She showed no trace of despair, only hope.

These unbreakable people, along with unbreakable support from loved ones at home, are the things that keep me going and keep me strong — entering my third week here now.

I’ve been sneezing really badly all morning today. Could be an allergy, could be a symptom of flu, could be something worse. But on my Twitter account, I wrote: “I’m made of steel, no malaria can break me!”. Then I took antibiotics.

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Aid workers' tents and the Indonesian warship in Sikakap. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

Yesterday, I resolved to write only good news in my next blog post. You see, I’m the kind of person who’d like to believe that there’s always a slight of hope even in the worst disaster. Naïve. Because right now, I don’t really have any good news to write home about.

As I’m writing this now, I’m sending my thoughts and prayers to our team leader in this emergency response — Wawan Budianto — who had to head back to his hometown in Java tonight, because this afternoon he got a phone call from a relative telling him that his father passed away. Strange how the world works. While you’re helping other people to get through their hard times after a disaster, a personal disaster hits you. You can never predict the weather.

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Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

Let me start with thanking everyone at home and elsewhere who has supported us by texts, emails or even comments on Facebook and Twitter. Those words of support are among the few things I could remember when we were at the sea this afternoon, trying to beat the crashing four-metre waves and stormy weather with our small, small boat.

Our team of four were sailing back to Mercy Corps’ base camp after distributing critical supplies to the tsunami survivors in the remote area of North Pagai, Mentawai Islands, where the most disaster-affected communities are located. It took us two hours by boat crossing the stormy Indian Ocean to get there from our base in Sikakap.

When we got back to our camp, all four of us soaking wet and hands are trembling from cold and fear, my phone beeped. The phone signal was alive again. It was a text from Erynn Carter, the West Sumatera Programme Director, saying “Big big storm is coming. Confirm this to team — your lives are more important than distribution.” I was supposed to receive that in the morning, but a signal problem got in the way.

Delivering critical supplies to tsunami survivors. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

The problem of our emergency response this time lies at the tough geographical area and unfriendly weather —storms come and go. Relief goods are overloaded in Sikakap from the government and many organisations, yet distributions cannot get very far. Remote areas remain untouched, except some that have received assistance from the navy. Many ships that have tried to get there have had to head back or have flipped over due to the storms. So we’re kinda glad we were able to do it and safely get back.

Sabeugguggung, the village that we visited this morning, was devastated by the tsunami. On the evening of October 25th, 15-metre waves swept away all houses and left nothing. Half of the inhabitants of the area lost their lives and other half are displaced. The total population of the village before the tsunami was 237 people — now there are only 118 people left. Many fled to a nearby island, and around 30 people are staying in a displacement camp.

In that camp, I talked to Elsa Sago — a man in his late 30s, who lived in a house by the beach with his wife and a two-year-old daughter. Yesterday, he found his daughter’s body in a wreck of trees and stones after days of missing.

Elsa Sago and his wife Sri lost their two-year-old daughter Evelyn to the tsunami. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

“I held her tight when the wave came, but my head hit wood and then I passed out, so she slipped off my hand. When I woke up, she’s nowhere to be found,” he said. And then he continued, “She could have been saved. She was surviving for days. But help has been slow to arrive.”

What I saw next was one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life. While I was talking to Elsa, his wife Sri came back to the island after days at the emergency hospital in other island. She rushed to her husband crying and calling their daughter’s name. “Evelyn, where’s Evelyn?” And then Elsa took her hand and walked her to the place where Evelyn was buried. Then she fell to the ground with what was left from Evelyn — a pink-coloured little backpack, in her hand. I was crushed.

We're here doing our best. Mercy Corps started to distribute non food items to survivors in these tsunami-stricken islands just a few days after the disaster. We are sending in more people tomorrow, including emergency response veteran Richard Jacquot from Washington D.C.

It’s almost midnight here now and it’s still raining outside. According to the news, an even bigger storm is coming tomorrow. We will be betting our luck again — but whatever we're able to do will be well worth it.

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Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

A sign of land, finally. I've been on the boat since I'm not quite sure when; I've lost track of days. I just remember that last Wednesday morning, Sean — our country director — ordered me to go to the tsunami-affected Mentawai Islands in West Sumatera...by boat.

Mercy Corps is distributing critical supplies to the survivors in the islands, about 24,000 people scattered and displaced across the area. The tsunami killed at least 400 inhabitants of the islands. So there I went, sailing with 500 jerry cans and 500 shelter kits to Mentawai. I have been on this very boat for about 60 hours now, with only one stop in Padang. The boat is also carrying relief goods from numbers of organisations from Jakarta and Padang.

It's really hard to reach the Mentawai Islands. The weather has not gotten any better after that 7.7 Richter scale earthquake last Tuesday, and the tsunami that soon followed. These islands are remote. Because of the weather, planes could not get here, boats were forced to go back and responses are slow.

So here I am now, standing at the deck of the boat with Sikakap — Mentawai's main island — not far in front of me. Two of our people are waiting there. I bet the 60 hours on the boat will mean nothing now. I'm going into the battlefield.

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When we first kicked off the Global Citizen Corps (GCC) programme in Indonesia earlier this year, we didn’t expect that more than 700 young people of Jakarta would apply to be GCC leaders in over a month period of recruitment. We spent sleepless nights at the office just to shortlist the candidates into 100 leaders that we would train on personal development, leadership, media and action planning skills this July. Reading those essays they submitted, browsing those blogs they listed. And it wasn’t an easy thing to do because these applicants were all stellar.

But we managed to find (and contact) our first 100 leaders — with special thanks to the FIFA World Cup matches that kept us accompanied while we stayed up late nights.

And so came the trainings. We divided the leaders into two batches of training. The first half, which mostly consisted of high-school students, took place in the first week of July. Yesterday, we just wrapped up the training for the second half, which mostly consisted of university students. We formalized these trainings into a week-long Youth Camp where we stayed in a beautiful lodge up in the hills, about three hours from Jakarta by bus. The objective was to radically alter the way these young people think about the world and their role within it, and to equip them with the skills needed to take meaningful actions in their communities. We aimed to create a new generation of poverty and inequality fighters.

Photo: Rusli Halim/Mercy Corps

It turned out to be a life-changing experience, not only for the participants but also to us, the facilitators. These kids were amazing. They blew our minds with their curiosity, energy and enthusiasm. But most of all, we were amazed by their openness to change. It was like watching a pupa transform into a butterfly through the metamorphosis at the camp. They transformed each other throughout the week.

“I wonder why food security issue hasn’t been blown up in the media like climate change. Is it because it’s not that important? Or because it’s simply not cool to talk about it?” asked one of the participants from the first batch during the Global Issues discussion.

“Because all of us can feel the impact of the climate change. Stormy weather in dry season like we are having now, for example. We normally don’t notice the thing we’re not experiencing, but it doesn’t mean it’s less important,” responded another participant.

“And so, it all comes back to us. To be a global citizen leader, we have to care about everything, included things that don’t impact us directly,” concluded the others.

Photo: Gunawan Meliyandoko/Mercy Corps

That was just one example of fruitful discussions we had each day at the camp. Not to mention the inspiring guest speaker we have invited to talk with the kids who gave the kids a new perspective in looking at the word “action.” We invited a famous actor who’s also an environmental activist, the editor-in-chief of Rolling Stone Indonesia magazine who’s also a defender of human rights, a well-known designer graphic who uses his skills in influencing people about social issues and a member of Indonesian Parliament to talk with the kids. We also had a number of Mercy Corps senior staff to share their expertise with the participants at the camp. These speakers came to me at the end of their session and said things like, “These kids are mind-blowing, I almost couldn’t handle the questions. How did you even find them?”

At the end of the training, the kids almost refused to go home because they were enjoying their time there so much. They joked about it and said “Can we stay another week?” or “Can I join the second batch too?” or “Is there any third batch?” It felt like the whole sleepless nights paid off. They keep thanking us for inspiring them throughout the camp, when the truth is...it’s us who were inspired by everything they were and did.

So now, as we recharge our energy for our next projects, we also can hardly wait for the actions that these kids are up to in the following months. We’re pretty sure they will blow our minds again as they flap their new wings of change.

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There are so many ways to know whether a project could really have an impact in communities that we work in. The most frequent method use is, of course, conduct a base line assessment (output: numbers) and then conduct the end line assessment (output: numbers) and compare the two of them. Final result? Written reports of numbers and numbers.

And I’m not against number, really. I love statistics. I’d got straight As for the subjects in college (OK, so I’m a geek). But I think one of the downfalls of focusing in numbers and the whole quantitative way of measuring impacts of a project is you don’t really see the community as the subject. And, do you honestly read those written reports?

So by the end of last year, as we completed one of the urban projects that we have in Jakarta, we tried to seek another way to measure impacts. We wanted to engage the community and let them participate in the evaluation process. We decided to do a "Participatory Video for Evaluation," a methodology increasingly used in community development and sociological research that enables a project implementer to do a monitoring and evaluation assessment in a community and replaces the conventional practice of written reports.

It’s a really simple method. We asked the community members to explain the most significant changes that have occurred there during the life of the project, and then made them to film that. We showed them how to use a video camera, and let them to film whatever scenes they wanted to show. Lessons learned? This method is simple, inexpensive (you only need a camera, doesn’t need to be an advance one), and capture the right things. It is a powerful tool to engage and empower the community. It also can be used as an advocacy tool. And highly enjoyable, I must tell you!

In the spirit of honoring the great work of the communities there, I would like to show you that video. The best part is: everything was done by them.

For more information on using Participatory Video, please visit http://insightshare.org/

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Team-building by the lake in Kampung Sampireun, Garut, West Java, Indonesia. Photo: Richard Jacquot/Mercy Corps

It has been a few days since I got back to red-hot Jakarta from a transformative and thrilling week of Indonesia Response Team training and team-building in Kampung Sampireun, Garut, West Java. I still cringe at the fact that I could no longer wake up to the beautiful lake alongside our rooms where the training took place, the chilly weather of the hills and the roaring laughter of such an amazing bunch of people.

The team consists of 27 folks, selected for their different expertise, from all of the four Mercy Corps field offices in Indonesia: Aceh, Ambon, Jakarta, and Padang. Our trainers were Richard Jacquot, the Deputy Director of Mercy Corps’ Global Emergency Operations (GEO) team; Mugur Dumitrache, the Water and Sanitation Expert for GEO; Erynn Carter, former GEO member who now holds the position of West Sumatera Programme Director; and Malka Older, Director of Programmes in Indonesia.

We went through a lot during the whole week we were there. We experienced everything from assessing local communities, mapping markets in emergency, designing an emergency effort that is based on SPHERE standards — to pillow fighting, karaoke singing and boat racing.

But here’s more about it.

Classroom sessions and intense debate were part of the Indonesia Response Team training, helping staff improve their emergency response skills and work together as a team. Photo: Michael Bell/Mercy Corps

One of the main reasons of our retreat was to assess the things that we needed to improve after our emergency efforts in West Sumatera and West Java near the end of last year. Given the fact that Indonesia is very susceptible to natural and man-made disasters, we needed to build our capacities to be effective in giving responses, hence avoiding the same mistakes we did in the last two efforts. According to Mugur, the team would not only be covering emergencies in Indonesia, but also the whole South and South-East Asia region.

So we really need to be counted as a team, and we want to keep Mercy Corps on the front line when it comes to emergency relief.

It was a packed training schedule, working from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. every day with few breaks in between, sometimes working on the assignments until late at night. In one of the sessions, we had to go to the village nearby to shape our skills in gathering as many information that we could obtain in a very limited time. We also assessed potential hazardous events in each of the region in the country, and what we could do to reduce the risks of the disasters — not to mention analyzing each field offices’ gaps in capacities and resources.

One of our Indonesia Response Team members interacts with kids in a nearby village during one of our training activities. Photo: Firza Kurniawati/Mercy Corps

We argued a lot when it came to logistics issues, such as how to distribute aid immediately, correctly and effectively. We changed what we needed to change.

However, we also knew how to have fun. After all, we always need to lighten up a bit in emergency situations, joke a little and laugh a lot, because disasters are stressful enough and we absolutely need to keep our sanity during responses. And so in the training, we inserted a lot of fun activities. We opened one of the sessions with practicing the gymnastic routines that each one of us had acquired back in the middle school when the dictatorship still ruled Indonesia. We played games in between sessions to keep us awake and alert such as karaoke singing (won by Mercy Corps Idol himself, Eldo from Ambon), boat racing (won by our Padang office) and pillow fighting above the lake (everyone lost and fell to the water — but no fish were harmed). And on the last night, we created a special performance as a farewell for Malka, who will be leaving Indonesia to challenge herself in other countries next week.

What an amazing week. We changed a lot, definitely for the better.

And really, we brought home a lot: new skills to be applied in emergencies, dozens of action plans, five million photos and everlasting friendships.

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Yoyo Maesaroh. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

I often wonder how a single city could be so extremely diverse, both economically and socially, as my hometown, Jakarta.

It's so diverse that the lowest income of an inhabitant could be as little as £12 a month, while the highest income could surpass even £12,000 a month. So diverse that, today, I met someone my age who — like me — has been living in this city since the day she was born, but — unlike me — got married when she was 17 years old. I remember I was barely even seriously dating anyone back then.

This particular someone that I met today was a 30-year-old woman named Yoyo Maesaroh. She is a mother with three children, living in the west part of Jakarta, in a neighborhood called Tomang. There in Tomang, Mercy Corps conducts a Community Based Sanitation project that focuses on solid waste management. Today was the closing day of the one-year project, and also the opening day for the newly-built composting house. For a year, Mercy Corps has trained cadres of residents to be the agents of change by showing examples to their community on how to recycle their waste for better use. Yoyo is part of these cadres.

“Father is the neighborhood leader, that’s how I became involved in the first place,” she explained to me.

“You mean your father? Or your children’s father?” I asked naively — and confusedly.

She laughed serenely and answered, “My father. My husband is only an informal parking attendant.”

The West Flood Canal passes through Yoyo's neighborhood. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

The reason why I asked that question was because it is a must for the wife of a neighborhood leader to be involved in the community. After we talked for another while, I learned that her mother refused to have that role, so she voluntarily registered herself last year. Here, she stated the cliché, “I wanted to do something for the community.” But then, hearing her whole story, I came to think differently.

Yoyo was pregnant with her third child when she registered. Living in the slums of West Jakarta alongside a startling number of malnourished children, she was worried of the future of her unborn child. “The waste problem had got me really frustrated. The smell is overwhelming. Flies are everywhere in my house — everything is covered by flies,” she sighed. I could see that clearly.

Her neighborhood has all the regular problems of an urban neighborhood that's situated by the river banks: unimproved sanitation, lack of access to clean water and garbage strewn everywhere. When Jakarta was hit by a huge flood in 2002 that drowned 60 percent of the city, her neighborhood was impacted badly. Yoyo and her family had to temporarily move to a nearby shopping mall, sleeping on level eight of the parking structure.

The government recently built a long and wide drainage system called the West Flood Canal to help tackle Jakarta's flood problems. This canal passes through Yoyo’s neighborhood. Surely, this helped the whole city. But because the poor hygiene behaviour of the community didn’t change, a wider river only means greater problems.

When Mercy Corps stepped in to facilitate the community in improving their sanitation, Yoyo was ready to catch the ball. She actively approached all the women in her neighborhood to be involved as well. “It’s not easy, no one wanted to be involved. There’s no money in it,” she recalled. So at first, she invited her relatives who also lived in the neighborhoods.

Another view of Jakarta's West Flood Canal and houses of a poor neighborhood that runs alongside it. Photo: Julisa Tambunan/Mercy Corps

Then word of mouth spread. Other people joined. With other local cadres, she now has an extensive network of composting groups across the district.

“Our neighborhood was covered in the national newspaper. Of all other neighborhoods in Jakarta, they chose us to be the example. I’m so proud of being a part of it,” Yoyo said.

Aside of her composting activity, she volunteers once every month in a local health post to weigh children under five years old in the neighborhood. “It’s not only putting babies in the cradle and weighing them, I was trained for other jobs here as well,” she said modestly.

Yoyo gave birth to her baby boy two months ago. Being a housewife, she's the main caregiver of her baby. She breastfeeds him, rocks his cradle and plays with him while, at the same time, taking care of her other two school-aged children. She does all of this while participating as an activist for the improvement of her community, without being paid even a cent.

“I do it for my community,” she said. Now I believe her.

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