WHEN THE MUSI RIVER CLEARS UP
By: Trimanto B. Ngaderi
This was the first time my feet had set foot on the
island of Sumatra. I looked around. A sea of neatly lined houses appeared.
The stilt houses had whitewashed wooden walls and zinc roofs. Each house was
surrounded by a small moat. A bridge made of nipah palm logs provided access.
Wild, lush grass, especially ferns, filled the gardens around the houses. Yes,
a transmigration settlement in the tidal zone along the Musi River.
Is this the country I will live in? I whispered to
myself.
I walked hesitantly. A sense of uncertainty enveloped
my heart. My curiosity, felt throughout the journey on the Bugis boat from
Palembang, had been answered. Since childhood until the age of 15, I had never
left my hometown, a village on the slopes of Mount Merapi-Merbabu, Central
Java. Now, I was in a foreign land with conditions so vastly different, I had
never even imagined it.
I continued walking toward the house we would be
moving into. I glanced at the faces of my parents and my two younger siblings.
There was shock on their faces, tired after almost a week of travel. On the
other hand, I also caught a glimmer of hope for the future in their eyes.
The receding tide accompanied our steps, accompanied
by the disappearance of the Bugis boat that had brought us. The air was extremely
hot because there were no large trees. Perhaps this was once a dense forest,
then the trees were cut down to make way for new settlements.
*****
In the 1980s, my parents decided to participate in the
transmigration program. The limited agricultural land in Java and the hope of a
better life compelled them to seek their fortunes on the other side of the
island.
My parents actually wanted to migrate to a palm oil
plantation area. However, at that time, the only options available were to
tidal areas. Some even called them wetlands. We had no idea what the conditions
would be like. Since childhood, we had lived in dry areas or rain-fed
agriculture.
Upon arriving at the transmigration site, the ditches
around the houses experienced ebb and flow throughout the day and night,
following the conditions of the Musi River. Each residential area had a large
canal built from the main river, called the Primary Canal, or P for short. Our
residential area was named P-14.
From the Primary Canal, branches were also created,
called Secondary Canals. These canals flowed through the settlements until they
reached the fields. These canals also connected to the ditches surrounding the
houses. There were sluice gates that could be opened and closed to prevent
flooding.
Each family head was given one hectare of land and one
hectare of land for the second. The trees on the first field had been cut down,
while the second field was still virgin forest. I think the area here is more
accurately described as a swamp. The fields were often waterlogged and
overgrown with ferns. The soil was covered with a thick layer of peat. At the
time, we didn't know that peat is the best natural fertilizer. It comes from
the roots of ferns and other plants, as well as the decaying leaves. "Stack
it over there, then burn it, okay, Le!" my father instructed as I helped
him clear the field.
In the dry season, the fields also dry out. There's
little standing water in the swamps. Peat burns easily. It's the perfect time
to clear the field or clear a new plot of land in the second field. To plant
secondary crops, we've implemented a surjan system.
"I'm going home now, sir. The sun is almost
directly overhead, and it's almost time for Zuhr prayers," I said goodbye
to my father.
As the eldest son, I help my father in the fields for
half the day every day. After lunch and Zuhr prayers, I walk to school, about 5
kilometers away.
In the transmigration area, there's only an elementary
school. As a first-grade junior high school student, I go to school during the
day because the classrooms are still shared with the elementary school. The
teachers are also highly educated transmigrants. For administrative matters,
our school is affiliated with a private school in Palembang.
I walk along the embankment along the Primary Canal.
The hot sun burns my skin. The tide is high. The water was murky and muddy.
Tek…tek…tek… Bugis small boats plyed their trade, transporting goods and
passengers. Several speedboats were also seen dropping off passengers at a
small pier.
On the embankment across the canal, some of my school
friends were also walking to school.
"Come on, hurry up, you're going to be
late!" they shouted as they walked quickly.
The majority of those living across the canal were
Sundanese. The P-14 canal has a diverse population. There are Javanese,
Sundanese, Madurese, and Balinese. It seems the government is deliberately
implementing a random system.
in the placement of trans residents to ensure cultural
acculturation.
After about 30 minutes of walking, I arrived at school.
Sweat poured down my body. My eyes were dizzy. My breath was a little labored.
My body was also exhausted, especially since before school, I had to help work
in the fields. There were no stalls or vendors. In fact, I hadn't brought water
or food to school.
After waiting for over an hour, not a single teacher
had arrived. This happened often, so we weren't surprised. In the six days of
school, there were usually one or two days when there were no teachers. Either
they were busy in the fields, or they were less enthusiastic about teaching
because they only received a small salary.
We decided to bathe in the Primary Canal. Especially
since it was high tide. We headed to a small pier made of ironwood planks. We
stripped off our clothes and jumped into the fast-flowing river, which was more
than five meters deep.
We were generally brave. None of us were afraid of
drowning or being swept away by the current. Water had become an integral part
of our lives. At first, we couldn't swim, and we were even afraid of water. But
nature had taught us everything. Back in Java, the river in our village was
small and only knee-deep.
"Danang, come on! Let's do a somersault
together," Cecep called from the dock.
After a satisfying bath in the Primary Canal, we dressed and prepared to head home. Getting wet pants didn't matter; they would dry naturally in the sun on the way home.
