CRAIG GIMA / CGIMA@STARBULLETIN.COM Indonesian tsunami survivor Hamdani, right, told Natasha Barrymore yesterday what happened to him, while fellow survivor Ageil Chaddafy slept on a U.S. Air Force C-130.

Translating
destruction

Death's tragedy crosses language
barriers easily on a flight to Banda Aceh

ABOVE BANDA ACEH, Indonesia >> Despite the roar of the Air Force C-130 engines and even though he does not speak English, Hamdani pieces together a horrible story of survival with his fingers and desperate gestures.

How he lost his pregnant wife on that day when a tsunami came crashing ashore can be told without words.

On assignment Star-Bulletin reporter Craig Gima is traveling through Southeast Asia to report on relief efforts for people across 11 countries devastated by the Dec. 26 quake and tsunamis.

Hamdani, a 25-year-old who only goes by his first name, is from Lampineung, and his friend, 17-year-old Ageil Chaddafy, is from Lamtemen in Banda Aceh, Sumatra. Both get on the plane at a stop in Medan, the regional capital of Sumatra, along with more supplies, journalists and civilians hoping to help with the relief effort.

But on the approach to the Banda Aceh airport, the ride gets bumpy. The plane drops and then pulls up.

"I've got bad news," a crew member says. The airport is socked in, clouds too thick to land. "We're going back to Thailand," he announces.

Hamdani and Chaddafy are quiet but smile politely when you make eye contact. Chaddafy is wearing brand new jeans that are too long. The cuffs are rolled up about six inches. He has a collared shirt with a T-shirt underneath it and new silver athletic shoes that look like Air Jordan knockoffs. Hamdani is also wearing what appear to be donated clothes, but with rubber slippers on his feet.

Natasha Barrymore, who is with the Greek aid group World Pharmacies and is bringing medical supplies to Banda Aceh, sits across them on a jump seat and strikes up a conversation with Chaddafy, a high school student who speaks a little English.

With a few simple words, hand gestures and writing simple questions and answers on paper, Chaddafy tells how he ran from the tsunami with this mother, father and younger brother. He escaped. He does not know what happened to the rest of his family. He was evacuated to Medan from Banda Aceh in a C-130.

"This plane," he says pointing at the floor.

Hamdani joins in.

Making a round motion over his belly, he relates that his wife was pregnant. He holds up eight fingers: eight months.

Then, curving his palm and making the motion of a wave crashing with his arm, he starts his tsunami story. The water, pointing to Barrymore's pants, was black.

He puts his two hands together in the shape of a roof and draws an imaginary line showing the water rising up to the roof. Hamdani pantomimes a frantic climb. Pointing at a pole, he shows how he hung on for life and tried to hold on to his wife. He shakes his head and makes a swimming motion to show how he went after her but could not reach her.

Then he stops, puts his hands on his lap, shakes his head again, and the look in his eyes needs no words.

Even if you could talk with Hamdani, "What can you say?" Barrymore asks.

Hamdani stops to offer a Muslim prayer and then wipes his eyes.

He gestures again. Lifting his hand above his eyes, he makes a searching motion. He shakes his head and pretends to eat. No food. He points to a water bottle and shakes his head. No water. Six fingers: for six days.

He was taken to Medan for treatment and was on the military flight to get back to Banda Aceh after being released from the hospital. He shows the vitamin pills from Japan that he was given.

On the ground in Thailand, as the travelers wait for another plane for Banda Aceh, an NBC sound technician offers Hamdani a new collared shirt with a fish pattern on it.

He shakes his head.

The man reaches in his bag and pulls out a white T-shirt.

"He really wanted a T-shirt," Barrymore says.

"It may be too big," the technician says.

But Hamdani just smiles and nods his head in thanks.