Kevin Sites, writing from Banda Aceh, has a disturbing essay up on his blog:
Ibnu Jarir has no tent — so the 28-year old fisherman must make one. And in this crowded refugee camp in the shadow of a silver mosque on the outskirts of the city — fifteen people will take shelter under it. Ibnu lost his wife to the Tsunami and says very little while he works.He busies himself cutting and stretching black plastic sheets over a small plot of ground that will be their only protection from the winter rains. He is skillful in laying out the shelter, pulling the guylines taught, staking them firmly, tying off the awning using strips of discarded wire.
It seems sturdy — but Ibnu is uncertain how long this black plactic will hold. It’s purpose, after all, was not to shelter the living, but to sheath the dead.
