
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/3242689.stm
Last Updated: Wednesday,
5 November, 2003, 08:47 GMT
Eyewitness:
Sumatra flood damage
QUOTE #1:
"A walk up the river is a walk into an entirely new place.
There simply is no village."
QUOTE #2:
"The army has been spending two days hauling people
across the river by a pulley system. They laugh and
joke with each other as the locals stand and stare."
CAPTION
#1:
"A flash flood which hit Bukit Lawang village on Indonesia's
Sumatra island on Monday has left scores of people dead and
hundreds others searching for relatives"
CAPTION
#2:
"The residents of Bukit Lawang are stunned."
Anthony Hurford has been living in Bukit Lawang for the
last two months doing volunteer work on a research project.
He contacted BBC News Online by e-mail to describe the
devastation caused by Monday's flash flood.
On the drive up to
Bukit Lawang on Monday we saw lots of
ambulances and unofficial vehicles, police and army trucks
being used as ambulances.
The road crosses the
river a number of times on the drive up
and the devastation was already clear.
Huge tree-trunks had
been piled up along the edge of the river
and it was clear to us how high the water had been from mud
marks on houses.
When we got to Bukit
Lawang, Indonesian friends of ours ran
to us crying and saying they'd lost their houses, so we comforted
them and assured them we'd do all we could to help.
The scene at the mosque
on the edge of town was chaotic. A few
large sheets of paper displayed names of the confirmed dead and
the grounds of the mosque were overflowing with people.
We didn't get close
enough to see, but assumed the dead were
being kept there.
We moved on up towards
the town.
Usually the bus would
take you right in, but there was no "in".
The edge of the town was now marked by a bus turned sideways.
On the other side were, again, huge piles of trees mixed with
personal belongings, parts of houses and lots of mud. The area
was unrecognisable.
The river has changed
it's course and now flows where the right
hand bank supported shops and businesses. The left hand bank
still supports those guesthouses furthest from the river,
as it was, but ground level is now up to window level and
most buildings are irreparably damaged.
A massive pile, maybe
half the size of a football pitch,
of huge tree trunks, branches, wood, personal belongings
and the odd tin roof is caught in a corner against rock
formations which used to shelter an 'acoustic cave' cafe.
A walk up the river
is a walk into an entirely new place.
There simply is no
village. Few buildings which were lucky
enough to be high up the right bank have survived unscathed,
but anything anywhere near the river is gone. It's a beach now.
The orang-utan rehab
centre looks to be in bad shape,
but those orang-utans still in quarantine cages are said
to be still alive - we could only see one of them moving
around.
People are walking
around stunned. The army has been spending
two days hauling people across the river by a pulley system.
They laugh and
joke with each other as the locals stand and stare.
Starting
from scratch
It is impossible to
imagine whether they will want to start
again. These people now have nothing at all. There's no
insurance here.
They are resourceful
people, and I heard that on Monday morning
people were already carving their names in logs, earmarking them
for construction of new homes and businesses.
But the tourism industry
has already suffered massively from
other events in Indonesia. They have no savings with which to
reconstruct.
Once the area is cleared,
which will undoubtedly take months
and require the army and special forces guys to stop sitting
around and start moving the rubble, people will be able to get
on with building.
For now they are sheltered
in public buildings on the edge
of town, or else the tourism industry workers, jungle guides
and restaurant staff have returned to their home villages and
families.