Pulau Bidong Refugee Camp, Indonesia
And unfortunately, they were closing that camp. So, again, we were all packed up and be taken to another camp that was called Pulau Bidong in Indonesia. And the transportation there…It was somewhat…not very pleasant. I was sitting in a cabin with my mother-in-law on one side and my four-year-old one and six-month old baby on my left. Well, at that time, he was seven-month old. And then, the uh—what do you call it? There’s a rail from where I sit to around the border—what do you call it? Like a walkway? And my husband was leaning to that rail because everybody was having terrible seasick. And he was throwing up like crazy.
So he was leaning against that rail and I was sitting here in the cabin, comfortably. And then…it was [an] armed guard. He was patrolling the whole, you know, area around the boat to make sure, whatever, and he was taking advantage of me. And, he touched me all over…And I was so upset. I feel helpless—because I know that wasn’t appropriate. And my daughter was having seasick and my mother-in-law was having seasick. I figured I have a seven-month old baby I have to stay alert to protect him because if he fell he could roll into the water. And the man’s hand traveled all over my chest. I was so hurt. I could not share this story with anybody and I kept it for many decades…until…until I read a book called The Dark Side of The Light Chasers that encouraged people with painful memories to let it out. Otherwise, it would be hard to move forward. Thank God for that book now I have the encouragement to share with you this not very pleasant memory.
And when we moved to—we were transported to the second refugee camp where we stayed for eight months. And, I don’t know what Hell would be like, but those eight months were like living in Hell. I thought of committing suicide at least once because it was so dirty. It was so dirty and so miserable. When we first arrived there I needed to go to the bathroom and they took me to the bathroom. There was a whole row of about 20 to 30 stalls. And every single one I opened—well I didn’t go to the whole row because I opened about seven or eight—it was full of human feces! All over. When you opened the door you don’t have a spot to put your foot in so I don’t know how to do that. And I opened the next one and I said “I can’t!” And the person who escorted me said “Do it! You have to do it. They are all like that!” I said “My God, I can’t!” So I turned around I said “No, I can’t do this!” So he escorted me back to my hut.
Because we were a family and my husband is an educated man—because of that he was able to get a job—helping the camp’s president. So he was given a decent place to stay. They built a wooden bunker—a very long one. And then, you know on the bunker, they built a long bed. Then, they gave you a certain amount of space. You can sleep there, you can eat there, you can throw anything underneath, but at least you don’t stay in a hut that people built by their shirts or something like that. So we had a roof over our head. But that bunker was right in front of a—what do you call it. Cemetery? So everyday you see people being buried.