The Opening of Rumah SukkhaCitta Flores

The path to the village was narrow and bumpy. It’s been five years since I was here, and I vaguely remember the way. Turning left near the triangle-shaped rock. Right after the cashew tree. And further straight until you pass the field of volcanic rocks before the car can no longer drive and you have to walk the rest up.

As we navigated the rocky path, we were greeted by a group of children. One pulled my hand and ran, signaling me to follow him. It was in that state of surprise that we found the rest of the village: Women in ceremonial attire, dancing with bright smiles. Men carrying musical instruments serenaded our walk together.

We were there for the opening ceremony of Rumah SukkhaCitta Flores, our fifth craft school. And what I thought was a solemn small gathering had turned into a village-level celebration full of surprises! They ushered me and Bertram into Rumah SukkhaCitta to change into the ceremonial attire they had made just for us.

My heart bursted with so much emotions. It took us five years of fundraising to make this dream for the community to come true. A space where they can continue their unique Palu’e culture and heritage. One that they were forced to abandon when they became refugees because of the volcanic eruption on their island in 2012.

The tragedy that severed their connections to their ancestral home. Forcing them to uproot their lives and start anew in this relocation village; where space is scarce and food no longer grows. Weaving became the only way they can earn livelihoods for their families. Even in this adversity, they did not lose hope.

Women became the backbone of their families. Women like Mama Erni who leads the cooperative – who I first met six years ago, introduced by Ibu Myra Widiono from Warlami who have been training them on natural dyeing. Women who today stand proud as pillars of her community. Her beautiful Ikat fabrics hung around Rumah SukkhaCitta for all to see.

Joy and laughter, along with rhythmic claps and occasional chants, permeated the air. We hugged and cried. We danced and laughed in circles until our stomachs hurt. And then we hugged some more.

In the afternoon, we walked together to the forest nearby. The changing weather was making it progressively harder for the mothers to forage plant dyes. Without a communal land, it will be difficult for the community to adapt. And so, a seed was planted in my head for the next step of our project here. More on this soon.

Afterwards, we gathered for the first time in Rumah SukkhaCitta. One by one, the mothers shared what this journey has meant to them – of reclaiming their unique identity, even when they were refugees. They shared how no matter what happened, they chose to rise. To care for themselves and their families, but also to work for the good of the community.

“Kami berterima kasih sudah diberi  kesempatan untuk berdampak,” said Mama Agustina while holding down tears. We are grateful for the chance to impact others.

To hear these words spoken by a community who has endured so much… It moved me beyond words. They are the Daughters of the Mountain. Women who have taught me so much about resilience and gratitude. That no matter what happens, we always have a choice in how we respond.

As we hugged and said our goodbyes, Mama Erni whispered two sentences that have haunted me since:

“Jangan lupakan kami. Kami tidak punya siapa-siapa lagi.” Don’t forget us, we have no one else.

It is easy to not care. But sometimes, I am reminded why it matters.

That the things we take for granted, the safety of our family, food on the table three times a day, a fair pay for our work, is not a reality for most women in rural areas. It was this heartbreak that led me to start SukkhaCitta back in 2016. I didn’t know how – but I knew that I would find a way to level the playing field for them.

So, when our flight was cancelled due to a volcanic eruption and we ended up driving the winding provincial roads for 16 hours to get to the next airport, my tiredness was replaced by a firm sense of purpose. We drove through the night, and while my travel companions slept I felt the need to open the windows and look up. It was the clearest of skies. Full of stars.

It made me feel optimistic about the world that would lie ahead. It won’t be easy, but yet again nothing worthwhile ever is.

Your nerd who cares,
D