Sri Wahyuni, Yogyakarta – Life was already difficult for residents of the two remote hamlets in the parched hills of Gunung Kidul, Yogyakarta, but it took a turn for the worse on May 27.
Karang and Padangan, which lie in the village of Nglegi, did not suffer the widespread damage or deaths of many areas battered by the earthquake, but their difficult to reach, rugged location leave them at a disadvantage in recovering from the damage.
The area is plagued by deficiencies: There is not enough food at the best of times, and the electricity supply was cut by the disaster. Many houses are still inhabitable but most residents, scared by aftershocks, are living in makeshift tents.
Others like Sutari, whose Padangan home was razed, have no choice but to camp out in makeshift tents, with their roofs built from whatever materials they can find around them. "We are forced to stay here. Where else can we stay?" said the 35-year-old mother of three grade schoolers.
Her home remains in a pile of rubble; her husband, a migrant worker who has returned home, has been too ill to start the cleanup. Sutari busies herself collecting grass from the forest to feed a goat, which she has reared in a profit-sharing arrangement with the animal's owner, a neighbor. When a relative came to visit, offering comforting words at her loss, Sutari burst into tears and hugged her.
They are learning to live with the conditions, huddling under the flimsy roof of the tent, with gusting winds and pounding rain at night. They eat rice whenever they can get it, but often must settle for whatever else is available to quiet their hunger pangs.
"Many people grow cassava here. We adults eat cassava, putting the children first to get rice, but even then it's not three times a day," said Karang resident Aris Haryono.
Aris, who is the head of the development unit of the village council, said it was several days before rice aid arrived for the population of 350, about 10 percent of whom are under-fives.
Stocks in the hamlet quickly dwindled because its local mill had yet to return to operation. The nearest market in Piyungan, which had been totally damaged in the quake, is some 20 km from Nglegi.
"We only received rice assistance on the fourth day after the disaster from the village administration, at an amount of only eight kilograms per hamlet." Sulandari complained the lack of food was affecting her 14-month-old infant.
"My child is fretful nearly every night due to gripe. He has no appetite to eat." Putting a jacket on him and rubbing him with medicinal oil have not helped calm him. "Hopefully, my son is strong enough to survive this predicament. We can only resign ourselves to our fate," she said.
Other parents report their children have respiratory infections and diarrhea from living in tents. The elderly also suffer from exposure to the elements. In Bantul regency, Mrs. Udi, 60, whose house was lost in the quake, complained of constant aches from living outside in a tent of tattered cloth.
A common sight in the area is people performing the traditional medical practice of kerokan, where a coin is dragged across the back and other parts of the body to expel wind.
For now, Mrs. Udi must live in the cramped tent, shared with her injured son and three other families.
There was a bright spot – electricity was finally restored earlier this week – but her mind still raced with fears for the future. "Actually, it's not the illness that I'm worried about, but about how to rebuild my house. I don't have any thoughts on how to do it, because I've nothing left," she said, her eyes filling with tears.