What's Your Banjir Story?

Sure enough for the next couple of days, if not weeks, the term “How are you?” and “How’s your day?” will definitely be replaced with “Was your house okay?”; “Were you trapped somewhere?”; “Were you able to get home that day?”; “How high was the water level?”. Yes, these will become the new greeting methods for many Jakartans on our recent tragic fates.

It was indeed a state of emergency affecting most of the capital. The flood rushed again with revenge in its mind this time. Bigger than 1996, wider spread than the 2002 flood, it seemed that banjir (flooding) is a way of life that we all have to live with and deal with in order to survive in the city. The aftermath was devastating, hundreds of thousands of people had to be evacuated from their homes and thousands of them were (or still are) confined within their own houses. I felt like Katrina had hit Jakarta with the same effect that it did to New Orleans. On rooftops, people were stranded around bodies of waters, in which some even reached the height of 4-6 meters above the street level.

I knew something bad was about to happen. Already, I was stranded from 2 to 3 AM Thursday morning at the entrance of my street waiting for the water to subside. By 10 PM the same day, cablevision and its cable internet was down for a surprisingly long time (and they are still down today). The sky darkened while the storm was brewing. Oh, it was so peculiar, like a warning sign from the heavens.

By Friday morning, some of us were already cut-off. Either we were stuck in traffic or in office buildings. Half the city’s telephone lines were dead (including jammed cellular lines), and a third of the power lines were shut to minimize any short-circuit incidents or electrocutions during the heavy flooding. Company called to inform me (who was supposed to be in a vacation) that the shop had to be closed earlier due to an already controlled small fire that sparked along the lighting systems. Oh great! Then Auntie called to inform that she would no longer be able to join us because she couldn’t enter the flooded Bintaro – Pondok Indah highway. Having canceled our family retreat to a monastery in Puncak (the Peak, West Java) due to the heavy rains, the local church people suddenly gave us a call, asking for assistance in cooking for the refugees. Yet, we were stuck in Tomang - Kebun Jeruk toll road, only to be able free ourselves three hours later. We had nothing to complain about. Later on, thousands of people had to stay overnight in the same strip of road going outward to Karawaci area in Tangerang Town. When we got to the emergency set-up, cook we did, together with neighbors and other volunteers for five thousand servings that day.

Though it was bright and sunny the next day, Saturday morning felt extremely saddening. Refugees camped along the street only meters away from the floods. People are stuffed in trucks, lorries, busses, military units, even car transporters. Male, female, old, young, the sick, the healthy, we were all helpless. Loads of rice sacks from charities around the area had poured-in to be cooked. The numbers of refugees were rising, doubling the servings and efforts all of us had to carry out the previous day. All of these had to happen in the dampened ambiance, it was humid, hot and dark. Power lines had been shut-off for the area. At around two, grandmamma called notifying that the waters in her neighborhood had raised dramatically. We had to somehow get her out of there asap. Other alarms rang almost at the same time: Supplies of safe drinking water and the liquid petroleum gas to cook for the relieve effort had dwindled. Thankfully there were so many of us to ask around for help in this case.

Borrowing the company’s semi-truck, I hopped behind the wheels pretending that I was driving an amphibious vehicle to get to grandmama’s place. Alongside, we saw hundreds of people waited in vain for the water to decline, dead cars strewn across regular streets-cum-muddy brooks. It was so heart wrenching to witness this elderly person who was carried into a wheel cart to be rescued out of his house. When finally reaching her house, I had to be grateful that the street in front of grandmama’s was still dry, thus easier for us to shuffle her to our residence.

While you could get very busy during the tragic days, nighttimes were another story. Boredom killed me to the bones throughout the weekend. I managed to have some office papers done, watched some DVD-s, read some books and magazines, and even wrote some entries for this particular blog. Bored you say? Yeah, I know, at least I was still very lucky that my dwelling was safe and the electricity didn’t pass-out. Erm, but I had no tv and no internet!

When Sunday arrived, some of the victims were able to get home, while in some areas the water level even rose to a never-before-seen frightening rate. By noon, seeing that more people were there to help the relief effort, I decided to disappear for a while. Did it in a very hush-hush manner, I fled. Of course, I didn’t want to be seen to be so pathetically ignorant. Yes, slap me darlings. I went to Senayan City (hey, I need to buy groceries for the home!), and then I was even able to kill some time in the Temple… of Body Worship, a.k.a the gym.

If the New Yorkers had coined the question, “Where were you during the 911 attack?” now, we Jakartans could also boast: “So what’s your 2007 banjir story?”

Monday, 2:10 AM: It should be a full moon somewhere in the night sky. The tide is high. There is little chance of natural water recession out of the city into the bay. And to make matters worse, it’s drizzling again outside. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry for some of us who were hit by this great flood. Maybe we can all arrange things to help our own pals in needs? Hope y’all be strong. This too, shall pass.


End Note: Picture courtesy of Kompas Publication.