Perilous Times
Volcanic Mud gusher buries homes, factories
10,000 forced to flee vast flow in East Java
Nick Meo, Chronicle Foreign Service
October 27, 2006
(10-27) 04:00 PDT East Java, Indonesia -- Not long ago Khaarul bin
Arafin was a taxi driver, but he lost his car, his house and nearly
everything he owned to a vast expanse of volcanic mud.
So instead of earning a living by driving tourists around, he now
collects contributions from day-trippers who come from the nearest
town, Surabaya, to stare at the disaster.
"I only managed to get a few possessions out before the house was
buried, so I have lost everything," the 41-year-old said. "We heard a
lot of promises about when this mess will be sorted out, but the mud
only seems to spread. People are getting really angry."
The gigantic lake of volcanic mud that spurted up from deep underground
to engulf hundreds of homes and 19 factories in East Java is a
depressingly familiar crisis for the geologists and engineers who have
been trying for months to stop it, so far without success.
Only the vast scale of the flow, which began when a gas borehole was
sunk, distinguishes the disaster from hundreds of lesser ones blamed on
Indonesian mining companies. The mud has blocked the main road from the
city of Surabaya to East Java, buried farms and businesses, forced
10,000 people from their homes and caused breathing difficulties to an
estimated 50,000 people, according to environmental activists.
Refugees on the lake edge can point out the rooftops of their homes
poking out of the 16-foot-deep, foul-smelling muck. Tests are being
conducted to discover if the mud contains toxic chemicals.
Since the disaster began in May, millions of dollars have been spent on
cleanup, without much effect. An Indonesian army battalion has thrown
up 11 miles of dikes to contain the muck, fleets of trucks have moved
tons of mud, and U.S. oilmen who have been flown in to deal with the
mess promise that by Christmas the hole -- through which more than
175,000 cubic feet of the stuff spurts daily -- will be plugged.
The government's latest idea is to dump millions of tons of mud in a
river flowing into the nearby sea, but environmentalists fear that
could devastate fish stocks by fouling the waters. Every few weeks, as
the lake of mud gets bigger, a new stretch of dike collapses and
another area is deluged, often driving out new groups of villagers.
Those living around the mudflow are becoming skeptical about the
chances of it ever stopping.
Some local residents have given up on the scientists and have put their
trust in esoteric methods, exercised after nightfall when the experts
have gone home. A small army of spiritualists, religious worthies and
psychics cast spells, prayers and incantations by moonlight on the
stinking ooze, inspired by hopes of winning a 100 million rupiah (
about $10,000) prize promised by a desperate village chief to anyone
who can stop the mud.
Residents -- who have staged demonstrations against Lapindo Brantas,
the company they blame for the mess, and even rioted in frustration at
the government's handling of the disaster -- are often skeptical about
the paranormals, too.
"I think they are mostly self-publicists. But then again, nothing else
has worked," said 30-year-old Fatimah Siti.
Villagers whose homes have been buried are stuck in nearby refugee
camps that the government has set up, including one in an empty market
building and others in schools. Many have lost jobs as well as homes
and possessions.
The scale of the disaster has shocked a nation inured to mining
accidents. Pipeline explosions and pollution flowing into rivers from
gold mines have become wearily familiar, and so have the stories of
victims.
But at the mudflow, not everybody is simply accepting their fate, as so
many Indonesian victims of earthquakes, volcanoes and tsunamis have had
to in recent years.
A bitter word-of-mouth campaign has started against Lapindo Brantas,
the company controlled by a powerful Indonesian political family. Its
executives keep out of the public eye. Vitriolic graffiti is scrawled
across walls of abandoned houses at the edge of the flow, and refugees
waiting for company handouts are less than grateful.
In one of the refugee camps on a recent evening, Siti was trying to
cook an evening meal on a stove for her family. "It is very hard here,
and it has already been three months," she said. "It is impossible to
sleep when there are 10 people in a room and it is very hot. The
children can't study. We just wish we could go back to our home, but it
is buried under mud."
The government is involved in the attempted cleanup and in helping the
displaced residents, but so far has not taken any action against the
company as environmental campaigners have demanded.
Catur Nusantara, East Java deputy director of campaign group Walhi,
said: "People are desperate. They are angry with this company, which
has committed a corporate crime."
His group contends the flow may continue for months, perhaps for years.
They say the company struck mud instead of gas, and had failed to put
adequate safety measures in place when it started to flow.
Yuniwati Teryana, a senior manager from Lapindo Brantas, insisted that
tests to establish the cause of the mudflow have not yet been
conclusive. He said the disaster may have been caused by an earthquake
that occurred around the time when drilling took place. The company has
paid out $70 million so far in compensating the thousands of people who
have been displaced and trying to stop the mudflow.