I was alone in my hotel room that Saturday, May 27, when a 6.3-magnitude earthquake struck Central Java at 5:53 in the morning. The tremor was so strong I felt like I was inside a small boat caught in storm. The coffee table near my bed toppled and with it, the three mugs my Indonesian friends Trina, Asi and I used the previous evening.
Sitting outside Hotel Saphir where I stayed, I saw an endless stream of pick-ups, trucks and ambulances carrying dead or injured people. At nine in the morning, people started running towards the north. A woman was screaming and crying so I asked the male hotel staff what the woman was saying. Looking frightened himself, he said that according to the woman, a tsunami is coming. My heart skipped a beat and my mind went blank. With the airport and train station closed, I felt trapped in a chaotic situation. Is this really happening, I asked myself.
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I took this photo of the fifth floor of Hotel Saphir on my way down to the lobby.
Here’s a rundown of the earthquake’s devastating effect:
- At least 5,749 people were killed
- 38,568 were injured
- as many as 600,000 people were displaced in the Bantul-Yogyakarta area
- more than 127,000 houses were destroyed
- an additional 451,000 were damaged in the area
The total loss was estimated at approximately 3.1 billion US dollars.
Saphir Square, a newly-built mall beside Hotel Saphir, suffered heavy damage.
Although the experience was traumatic (I have become extra sensitive for the slightest shake or vibration wherever I am), I would always remember the Yogya earthquake, and my Indonesia adventure in general, for the beautiful lessons it taught me:
1. Good people are everywhere. And they come when you need them most.
After I went to the airport only to find out that it was damaged and closed for flights, I went back to my hotel to ask directions how I could leave Yogya. I had to catch an early flight to Singapore the next day and be in Manila by Monday for an interview. As I was asking directions, a bespectacled male asked me “Miss, Pilipino ka ba?” I swear that I almost cried out of joy when I heard him speak Tagalog at that moment. He wasn’t only a Pinoy, he was from Baguio, too! Prof. Bobby Arguelles of SLU and his two male Indonesian friends helped me find a taxi so I could go to Solo, some 45 minutes away, where the flights had been transferred. Thanks to Bobby, Andrei and Bhayu, I was on my way to Solo – and to safety – at around 12 noon.
2. Religion does not define people.
Indonesia is the largest Muslim country in the world, with 85 percent of its 220 million people adhering to Islam. While I had my own biases against Muslims in general based on what I read and my limited interaction with Pinoy Muslims in tiangges, I learned that ultimately, it is people who define the quality of the religions they choose to practice.
I became friends with Purwani Prabandari (or Dari), a woman Muslim editor of Koran Tempo in Jakarta, and we realized that despite our different faiths, we have so much in common in terms of how we view the world. She and many other Muslims I have met shattered my limited concept of Islam as a religion. They have shown me only kindness and respect. I guess we have to go beyond religion to be truly spiritual.
It was this Muslim woman who first texted me that morning of May 27, asking how I was. She kept me updated through text on what was happening around Yogya. A native of Solo, she was the one who instructed me to go to her town when she found out that the airport in Yogya was damaged. I couldn’t have remained in one piece without her texts to reassure me I would be safe.
3. Be careful for what you pray for.
Mount Merapi was already erupting when I decided to go to Indonesia for my short-tem journalism fellowship. My family kept asking me why I chose Indonesia when there are other safer and more progressive places to go to. Well, I just want to know more about Islam, I told them. Silently, I was telling myself that I’m going for an adventure of a lifetime. My 21 days’ stay in Jakarta and 4 days in Yogyakarta had just been that – one memorable adventure of a lifetime, one experience I would always be thankful for.
A photo of Mount Merapi taken by Dari.
4. New places give us the gift of ourselves.
Before I went to Indonesia, I considered myself disorganized, often misplacing my pen, earrings, anything. But alone in a strange land, I was forced to keep my things in order and to remember where I placed them. Although I have always thought of myself as independent and strong, I didn’t know how independent and strong I was until I was on my own in a foreign land. Unable to speak and understand Bahasa Indonesia, I found myself oftentimes alone taking trains, taxis and buses to unknown places, holding on to my small notebook for the helpful directions Dari gave me. Sometimes I would get lost but more often than not, I would reach my destination without a hitch as I pretended to be Indonesian and mimicked their accent whenever I spoke to drivers. Alone in my room at night, I would smile as I recalled small mishaps I encountered during the day.
For my Indonesian adventure, the best lesson I learned is that sometimes we have to leave in order to find our way home:-)
Terimah kasih, Indonesia!
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