(
Carnacki, who usually posts the "Got a happy story?" Diary on Fridays is neglecting his blog duties to spend some time with his daughter. Our loss, her gain.)
My happy story doesn't start out so happy.
As many Kossacks know, for the past few years I have earned a living - or rather, I have barely supplemented my wife's income - selling antique Indonesian textiles and Balinese keris like the 125-year-old one held by my step-daughter in the photo.
To replenish my inventory, I try to travel to Bali, Java, Flores, Madura, Lombok and occasionally other islands in the archipelago at least twice a year for a few weeks each time, although health and family considerations have made that less possible since 2004.
On May 25, I left Yogyakarta in Central Java, on my way north. I stayed over in Ungaran. Thirty-six hours after I had left Yogyakarta, my bungalow was gently rocked by what two decades living in Southern California immediately told me know was a strong but distant tremor. We lost electricity for several hours, and when it came back on, we learned that Yogyakarta had been struck hard, with great loss of life.
I thought about returning to Yogyakarta, but then decided I would be more of a nuisance than a help since mine aren't the skills needed in the aftermath of such a catastrophe. I went on to Ubud to meet my Balinese friends and complete my purchases. Just before coming back to the States, I made what the earthquake had turned into a grueling trek back into Yogyakarta to see how my Javanese friends had fared.
As you can imagine, the city - which is Java's artistic and aesthetic capital - was devastated. To give just one example, the Institute Seni Indonesia, led by Dr. I. Made Bandem, is the largest performing arts campus in all Indonesia. The library was demolished, and I was told that 80 percent of the classrooms and office space had been wrecked. Two-century-old gamelan instruments were buried in the rubble. Three hundred of the institute's staff and faculty lost their homes, school and performance space. Luckily, none was killed or seriously injured.
Learning this one piece at a time, I became increasingly concerned for the well-being of dancer/choreographer Baghawan Ciptoning and his family, who had frequently welcomed me into their home. The day I left for California I had still not heard. I could not reach them by phone after I returned.
Then, on June 30, I got through. Everyone was fine. The family had been in Solo on the day of the earthquake, and nobody, even baby Kadek, suffered a scratch. Had they been home, they might have met the same lethal fate as 17 of their immediate neighbors. Baghawan has been working tirelessly for the past month raising money to help his surviving neighbors and to find a means to restore the area. Knowing his determination and deep humanity, I am confident he'll succeed, no matter how many obstacles he encounters.
Add your own happy story.