A strong earthquake struck the Indonesian tourist island of Lombok on Sunday, killing at least 39 people and leaving dozens injured.
Opinion
COMMENT: A small, dark shadow darts across the wall and behind a curtain. Like a moth. I pull back the curtain. Nothing. It unnerves me, like something just out of reach, a forgotten name or a dream that melts in daylight.
I'm in a guesthouse in Mataram, the Indonesian RedCross or Palang Merah Indonesia base on Lombok island in Indonesia.
Earlier that day I was in a remote village during a whopping aftershock to the July 29 and August 5 earthquakes. Nothing moved in that village. No glass cracked, no bricks tumbled. It had all been shaken to the ground by the big tremors and hundreds of aftershocks.
People didn't really move either. They lay under plastic sheeting or tarpaulins in an open space between rubble and dry paddy fields. Or they sat at small wooden structures that looked like bus stops. Someone told me the village's name, Dangiang, means Waiting for Love.
During the aftershock, people cried out and chickens squawked. Then silence. A skinny dog loped along the road, warier than ever. Around the corner, I saw a girl in her mother's lap, her face buried in her shoulder, the woman's arms around her. The girl raised her tear-stained face for an instant.
A van waited for a last passenger, door open. Inside, a woman stared out, her face inconsolable. Our eyes met. I reached out my hand and she roused herself to take it. We shared a wordless understanding. Then she let go and the van slid by.
All around, the unspoken: Death, loss, grief, haunted looks, those who are no longer here, a life gone.
All around, ugly heaps of concrete, glass, corrugated iron. Rubble that used be homes of sanctuary, safe rooms for shared meals and family life, restoration from work, refuge from the outside world, repositories of memories and treasures.
Still, people stay nearby. Some say a tsunami warning was a hoax designed to give thieves a chance to take motorbikes and cattle. They can't risk leaving unattended what little they have left.
Families don't want to send an injured child to hospital. It would mean leaving their ruins — or splitting up the family.
Rescue efforts in Lombok following the recent earthquakes. Photo / Supplied
So the Indonesian Red Cross comes to them. A medic checked out people's injuries, evacuating them to hospital if necessary. Other members of the Red Cross team fanned out across the village to assess damage and needs, distribute sleeping mats and tarpaulins, and distract children with songs, football played with plastic wrapped around a rock and basic schooling.
Later, I met a bunch of Red Cross volunteers rallying locals to help clear some space for more emergency shelters. They tossed bricks, roofing tiles and other debris to the side.
Taufik, 18, was heaving ceramic tiles. He asked for a selfie and in it I look pale and sweaty next to him. His nose is delightfully crinkled. He seems relieved to be taking some action, and I feel the stirring of energy and initiative.
Around the corner, under the guidance of the disaster-experienced Indonesian Red Cross, a group of older men were building a shelter to serve as a demonstration. Instead of slinging a tarpaulin over a rope and huddling underneath, families could dig bamboo stakes into the ground, lash and nail some bamboo horizontals, and quickly erect an earthquake-resistant, roomy shelter that offers a little more comfort, privacy and security. With the rainy season due to start in a month, it's needed.
Later, there will be a big programme of shelter, livelihoods, water, sanitation and hygiene and other assistance, supported by the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies. If you have to start somewhere, you might as well start with home.
When the skeleton was up and covered with plastic, the local blokes stood around proudly. Seeing my smartphone, they asked for a group shot, giving a cheery thumbs-up.
The shelter is an achievement in a town that desperately needs some good news. Then it's time to hit the road so we reach the Red Cross branch before dark. The day's aftershock caused more subsidence and cracks. The journey was painfully slow, the 60-odd kilometres around the sole coastal road taking three bumpy hours.
Back in my room, the fleeting shadows return. This time I outrun them. They're geckos, nimble experts at survival and adaptation. I exhale.
If you're in New Zealand and would like to support relief and recovery efforts in Indonesia, you can donate via the New Zealand Red Cross. Most of the items needed to support people affected by the earthquake can be obtained in Indonesia, which means cash donations are the fastest and most efficient way for items to reach people who need them.
• Rosemarie North, a New Zealander, is Asia Pacific communications manager for the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies.
