f you do not know how the power of the lines of poetry unites and calms people against their fears, here is a short story I heard directly from the speaker, Eliza Kissya, head of finance Haruku, Maluku.
Ahead of the opening of the opening ritual of Sasi Lompa in 2019, the earthquake suddenly shook Haruku Island and its surroundings. The scale is small. People are running. Eliza Kissya, the ritual leader immediately threw a line of verse:
Negeri Haruku katong pung tanah
Katong everyone likes it the most
Let the crop be struck by disaster
The pump month is still open
Hearing the poem, the people who had been scattering gathered again. Tifa was beaten again. Even harder. Lompa Month, the annual tradition of the people of Haruku State in Central Maluku, is open. Residents immediately harvest their protein preparations.
Poems and 'harukulele' are patterned on a child's oblong shirt. (Photo: Anwar Jimpe Rachman)
Poetry and 'Harukulele' Om Eli in the oblong shirt of a little girl on a speedboat to Tulehu. (Photo: Anwar Jimpe Rachman)
"That (poem) was created just like that at that time," said Om Eli, my close call to Eliza Kissya. That I also often find when talking and joking with him. Apparently the urge to create the poem not only appears when relaxing, but also in times of desperation.
Eliza Kissya is known not only as an environmentalist who sent her to receive Kalpataru in 1985 and Satyalencana Pembangunan (1999) and Maestro Seni Tradisi from the Ministry of Education and Culture RI (2017). This old man born on March 12, 1949 also preserved the tradition of poetry that encouraged the Maluku Provincial Language Office to award him Pegiat Sastra in Maluku (2017). The lines of his poems have been recorded in Kapata Kewang Haruku & Sasi Aman Haru-ukui (Ininnawa - Layar Nusa, 2013).
The state of Haruku has long been known for the opening ceremony of Sasi Lompa which is thought to have existed since the 17th century. The term Sasi means a customary prohibition at a particular time to take something from nature, while lompa is the local name for a type of small sardine or tembang fish. Every year, Om Eli leads this ritual because of his job as head of finance (customary police).
Om Eli also always brings poetry in formal events in many places in the archipelago. In one video he showed, Om Eli recited poems interspersed with Maluku songs sung with his ukulelen accompaniment. ("This is Harukulele!" He said, chuckling. Om Eli was probably right too because the instrument was specially made by Benny Kissya, one of his sons, made of whole wood [without a connection] and strung on a fishing line — not a ukulele string!).
Prior to the 2019 Lompa Month ceremony, rocking land — a local term for earthquakes — on a small scale often shook Haruku Island and its environs, especially since the 6.8 magnitude earthquake on September 26, 2019 due to a 42-kilometer fault movement lying in the Straits Haruku, the sea that connects Ambon Island and Haruku Island. BMKG records reported by Pikiran Rakyat , there were 3089 earthquakes following the main earthquake.
It happened at ten o'clock in the morning. Benny is still asleep. He ignored the snout of his dogs kissing him. His pet instinct sniffed the vibrations of the earthquake danger before coming to try to wake Benny. By the time the shocks occurred, all of his pet dogs had first fled to heights.
"It's like in the movies. Like there are creatures under the sand. The sand is turbulent. Moving ... creeping! Raised as if scattered! The motor also lifted several times. Goods fall. Mama (Liz) who was drinking tea also fell, ”said Benny.
"We left the classroom. My teacher fainted! ” said Emil, the grandson of Om Eli, who was then on a national exam ahead of his junior high school graduation.
Six-dimensional shocks clearly devastated the building. Residents fled to higher ground. People are afraid of a tsunami. The memory of water up and down the (tsunami) because the 7.6-magnitude earthquake in the Banda Sea, just south of Ambon Island, on October 8, 1950 the past is still alive in the stories of the people who live on the island of Ambon. [1]
After the big earthquake of 2019, there are some things that have not been able to return to the present. Even after the earthquake there was no water up and down , some residents refused to return to their home state (village) even though it was a year after the incident. The Eben Haezer Church of Haruku State which was built for 15 years and before the earthquake was used for eight months is now temporarily abandoned due to damage (and has not been repaired because it used to be a craftsman from outside Haruku). The people of the state built an emergency place of worship on the beach with sago leaves and tarpaulin roofs, right in front of the church with cracked towers and some parts of the roof appear to be removed.
"Fortunately, it happened during the day. Maybe at night, many people are victims of collapsed buildings, "said Benny.
"Fortunately, not many people fell from the clove tree because it happened when the clove was harvested," explained Clifford Kissya, Benny's sister. But, Cliff continued, as a result, many clove trees were damaged because they did not have time to be harvested because the villagers fled and refused to return.
Help can only come a few days after the incident. According to Gatra , government assistance was only distributed at the Haruku District Office two days after the incident. "People at that time were still afraid to cross to Haruku. Vegetables and cassava (cassava) grown in people's gardens are taken by refugees to fill the stomach, "recalled Cliff.
FOR seven years I continued to keep my desire to go to Haruku Island, despite being lucky enough to visit Nusa which is located about seven kilometers east of Ambon Island in 2013. At the end of December 2020, I could go there again even if only one day last night — actually not enough 24 hours; arrived at noon and had to return to Ambon at ten o'clock in the morning due to an absurd appointment with a friend. Yes, my arrival really just wants to release the longing for the family of Om Eli and Aunt Liz.
Eliza Kissya family. (Photo: Anwar Jimpe Rachman)
Aunt Liz, Patricia, Emil, Benny, and Om Eli. (Photo: Anwar Jimpe Rachman)
I landed in Ambon on December 25 in the morning. Unfortunately I could not witness the atmosphere of Christmas the night before, although the atmosphere I still met the days after. The need to manage a COVID free certificate plus the very wet Makassar weather and soaking in my house made me have to postpone my departure for a few days. Ambon and its surroundings apparently also rained. Even Om Eli called me to encourage me to cross in the early morning to avoid the strong wind blowing to Tulehu, Haruku, and the surrounding area. Different experience I had seven years ago: November is very hot.
Not much has changed in Haruku State. But the seven-year distance certainly made me aware of his human changes. Om Eli and Tante Liz are seven heads, but they are still as strong and alert as before. Aunt Liz is still receiving sewing orders and cooking for the family with the help of her two grandchildren, Patricia and Emil — who attend SMK at Ambon and are on Christmas holiday. Only Om Eli's right eye was slightly blurred due to cataracts. Om Eli wanted surgery but refused to participate in the mass operation. "Fear of being operated on but not careful (because many people are queuing)."
In the evening, in the dining room adjacent to the Learisa Kayeli River estuary, after praying led by a local church administrator asking for blessings and thanking God for his new age (a Kissya family tradition), Benny in a low voice told me his good plans on 2021. I (temporarily) can only join in praying that everything goes well.
Then accompanied by Emil, I walked north to Cliff. I let go of longing. We talked afternoon to night on the veranda of his house. Apparently, almost a year ago, Cliff became the village secretary, a task he received after three times rejecting the application of Mr. King (village head).
"Wow, it's wrong to be rejected three times!" exclaimed me. We laughed.
During that time, he tidied up his village data so that, for example, government assistance could be targeted. No more citizens will feel harmed or demanded more because of their data-based decisions. "Of course there is still dissatisfaction, but at least not as before," he said.
Another good news is that Cliff, who also works in Bumdes, is working and packing a meal called sago kasbi . It is a cassava grater formed into pancakes and marketed in Ambon and its surroundings. It can be served in the afternoon to accompany tea and coffee or, as I do, for a light dinner by mixing it and soaking it in gravy. Unfortunately, not all consumer demands from Ambon City can be met. Cliff also did not seem to be very keen to fill it, although his grinder and stuffing machine were in Haruku.
Sagu kasbi production Negeri Haruku (Photo: Anwar Jimpe Rachman)
After seven years, what has also changed is apparently the price of cloves. In 2013, when I talked a lot with Cliff during the Clove Expedition research (Ininnawa - Layar Nusa, 2013), the season was a sweet season . Clove farmers happily pick cloves because the price per kilogram ranges from one hundred thousand rupiah or more. Now the price has dropped to Rp50 thousand per kilogram. Even collectors buy from farmers Rp40 thousand / kg. Though the clove harvest is actually scarce due to the impact of the 2019 earthquake.
"Yes, that's because collectors read that refugees really need money, so they definitely want to take off their cloves cheaply."
I realized, I just heard another shock after the big earthquake on September 26, 2019. This time, the shock was not from underground.
