Standing amid the ruins, Suwandi reflected on what had happened to his old workplace — a giant cement factory next to the sea. “I’m very sad. I don’t have a job any more. We lost all our money in here,” he explained, pointing at his office, now a mangled heap of metal and oversized tubing.
Until the tsunami smashed into it Andalus Cement was the largest firm in Banda Aceh, employing more than 600 people. It exported cement dug out from the neighbouring mountain across Indonesia, churning out a million tonnes a year. On Tuesday, though, it was not producing anything.
The factory’s ship lay half-sunken in the harbour; many of its employees were either dead or missing; the dome where the cement was mixed looked like a wonky cathedral. “It’s going to take a long time to rebuild it,” Suwandi said, standing on a beach strewn with masonry, the stumps of coconut palms and a few surviving sea pines.
More than two weeks after the tsunami, analysts have suggested that the long-term economic consequences for Indonesia are not as grim as feared. Aceh, the worst-hit province, accounts for only 2% of Indonesia’s economy.
The tsunami spared Aceh’s important oil and gas production facilities, they argue. It also left its agricultural sector — rice, peanuts, cassava and potatoes are grown here — more or less intact. This is not how Suwandi sees it.
On Tuesday he and other former employees of Bumi Ayu, a contractor which worked with Andalus, returned to collect their equipment. It was not easy. The road to the factory runs through Lhoknga, a devastated coastal area about 25km south-west of Banda Aceh. Corpses are still being extracted from the paddy fields. They lie on the road waiting for collection. The last bridge before the factory is missing; to get across you need a raft.
As Suwandi drove the last stretch in a battered four-wheel drive, gangs of survivors from devastated towns on Aceh’s west coast trudged past in the opposite direction. His firm had 60 staff, Suwandi said, 10 of whom were dead.
“When the tsunami came some people escaped to the mountain,” he said. “But not everybody made it. The wave was too big.”
He and a few other colleagues were trying to retrieve anything of value from the wreckage — gas cylinders, engine parts, scrap metal. Their digging machinery had been wrecked, he said.
“The big problem is that we weren’t insured. We owe the bank in Jakarta 1,5-billion rupiah ($161 415),” he said. “We hope we don’t have to pay the credit back.”
It is unclear whether the Indonesian government will step in to help Suwandi, and thousands of others like him whose businesses have been wiped out. Fishermen, traders, hotel owners, shopkeepers now have no means of making a living.
Mahendra Siregar, a senior adviser to the Indonesian economics minister, told The Guardian that the government was preparing a “very comprehensive programme of debt restructuring”.
But asked whether this meant Suwandi would have his bank loan written off, Siregar was vague.
“We will provide a legal umbrella,” he said. “But ultimately it is up to the banks’ discretion. We don’t interfere in the banking system.”
The tsunami had caused about $2,4-billion of damage in Indonesia, he said, excluding the cost of reconstruction. Indonesia is now seeking relief on its debts. Donor nations will meet officials in the capital, Jakarta, next week. Many donor countries, including Britain, have responded sympathetically.
Dozens of foreign aid agencies, meanwhile, have now established offices in Banda Aceh, fuelling a mini-boom for drivers and translators. Construction firms can also expect a profitable future.
But most people in Banda Aceh believe they will have to wait a long time for compensation — if there is any.
“We need help from both the international community and Jakarta,” said Nasruddin, one of Suwandi’s colleagues.
“They will rebuild the factory. But it’s going to take a lot of money.”
In Banda Aceh itself, the tsunami destroyed the town’s main shopping area, sending tonnes of mud and debris cascading through the streets.
By Tuesday some shopkeepers had returned. They were trying to salvage what they could.
“This is my gold shop,” Zakaria Gadeng said, scooping out filth from his shopfront. “It’s been in the family for three generations.
“I’ve lost half of my gold, about [$2 000) worth.”
Did Gadeng expect any compensation from the government? “No. In fact, you’re the first man who has asked me this.”
What would he do now? “I’ll go back to work. I’ve been doing this for 40 years and I don’t know anything else.” – Guardian Unlimited Â