Sunday, July 09, 2006

Lets grow the student throught out the technology approach

Information Technology is an technology based on data processing, inclusive of processing, getting, compiling, in so many way of to produce information which good quality, that is relevant information, accurate and on schedule, that can be used for person, business, and the governance and represent strategic information for the decision making.

In some bigs country technology is most popular than poor country, this technological use a set the computer for data processing, network system to connect one computer with other computer as according to requirement, and the telecommunications technology used the data to can be disseminated and accessed globally.

Growth of information technology can improve performance and enable various activity can be executed swiftly, precisely and accurate , so that finally will improve productivity. Growth of information technology show the popping out of various activity type being based on this technology, like e-government, e-commerce, e-education, e-medicine, e-laboratory, and other, which is all the things have electronics based.

It will be good approaching for the Student as young generation to integrate them self on information and technology boarding.
as Tsunami survivors it is most practise for them to develop them self for fetching world global, indeed aftermatch of tsunami and eartqueke Acehness issues became to International issued and preciesly many knowledge, Information and technology have been transmitted to Acehness which whom issolated during the Military opperation and another restricted access established by the govermental site during the conflict between Rebel GAM (said Free Aceh Movement) and the goverment of Indonesia (GOI).

The fenomena is more attractive generation most likely cutting down the link connection betwen the community with the IT access. Irronically there was no chance for that and the young generation is being degradated of knowledge.

Next step to move from bottom to up to introduce the young generation the higher information technology; just to lets them grow fast and faster throught out technology approach and just let's
them breathing in fresh air to forget every thing forget conflict; forget Tsunami and earthqueke and forget their parent which is lost during the tsunami and right now is event for them to build them self.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Aceh Tsunami survivors is Stand up

Krueng Cut is so close to the sea that the tsunami all but levelled it a year ago. Most of the fishermen's villas, with their red-tiled roofs, fluted columns and verandahs, were shaved off the earth by the great cutthroat razor of water which stood over them, then sliced them from their foundations. When, after three months, the Indonesians cleared the waist-high layer of mud, masonry, cars and corpses which covered along way to the Malahayati Sea Port, the district of Aceh Besar where Krueng Cut Street lies, there was nothing left of many homes except a faint border of sea-chewed brick and the tiling on the ground floor. A year on, the first replacement house has only just begun to be built, by several NGO, UN Compound and other stake holder. Tents still border the street; some residents have put up makeshift wooden dwellings. Electricity has been restored, but running water hasn't, and households drink and wash courtesy of wells and giant yellow water tanks on corners, topped up by Oxfam. If you hang out on Krueng Cut Street today, and get to know the people who live there, the weight of the obvious strikes you. Folk grumble mildly about the pace of reconstruction, but the bleakness of missing houses is a distraction from the infinitely greater pain of missing people. The empty spaces where buildings should be are easier to mend than the holes torn through families and hearts by sudden death on a scale seldom experienced by any community. Krueng Cut Street begins by the brown, narrow Aceh river, which meets the sea half a mile downstream. The mat of dead bodies and broken fishing boats which choked it after the tsunami is a horrible memory, and working boats line its banks again. Turn off the embankment road - still unrepaired from where the tsunami took bites out of it - and you're on the street. That's Samsiah's kiosk on the right, and the rebuilt metal repair workshop after it belongs to her too. Grass and weeds now grow over where the houses used to be, and the tarmac road is now a rough track. You come to a little crossroads. On the left, some householders have pitched their grubby, sagging, once-white UNHCR tents on the left, on the foundations of Yusran's house. Five died there, four of them children. On the right, another tent is pitched where Mali's house stood. At least nine people were killed there, two of them children. After Mali's house, there are a couple of rough outlines of houses in the weeds, as if they were demolished decades ago. The first one belonged to Mustafa, the mobile fishmonger. He was killed along with most of the rest of his family, including four children. On the left is Samsiah's house, not the original but a baroque hall of salvaged planks nailed together, like a giant beach hut, on the foundations of the old. Samsiah's neighbors Harunabdullah, a tailor, lost his wife Nuraini, three children and two nephews. His neighbour Khairiah and her son were also killed. Next door to the grassy outline of Khairiah's house is the remnant of Hassan's house - he died before the tsunami, which killed his widow and two children. Next along was Manaf's house. Manaf survived, but his two teenage sons died. On the other side of the road the houses were thinner; there's nothing there now. And so it goes on, neighbour after neighbour. Next to Manaf, Iskander lost his wife and two children. Opposite, Hasriati died, along with five others. Iskander's neighbors Mukhtar lost both parents; on the other side of the street, Muhammad Johan, a stallholder at the fish market, lost his wife and daughter, while his 67-year-old neighbors, Kamariah, is the sole survivor of her household. She returned from Jakarta to find eight grandchildren, two daughters and two sons-in-law dead. Between Kamariah's house and the home of Lely Abdullah at number 36, close to the end of the street, there used to be 10 dwellings. 26 adults and six children from that little stretch of one street in Banda Aceh have been plucked away forever. It was a young street, loud with children, with most of the houses built in the last couple of decades. Lely, a 46-year-old fisherman, watched the families grow around him. He moved to Krueng CutStreet in 1980, finished his house in 1992 after two years' work, and became rich enough to own four motorbikes. "Before the tsunami, people were out on the street all day and all night, sitting and chatting," he said. "That's what I liked about it. There were always children's birthday parties, and when somebody got married they invited a local singer for the party. There were all sorts of pedlars. Especially selling toys for children, every day, every hour. The bicycle noodle guy used to come five times a day and at night all the houses would turn on a light at the front. It was so busy before, with the fishmongers coming and going, the motorbikes, the cars. It's silent now." Lely said he didn't believe in ghosts, but he doesn't like to stay in the house in the evenings. He goes down to the fishing port and sits in the coffee shop till it's time to sleep. His wife Saudah and one of his sons died in the tsunami. His neighbour on his left is his brother Hasyiny; his sister in law and two daughters were killed. Behind Lely's house, at number 41, his sister Ainal Mardiah, her husband and four of their children died. Lely's two surviving daughters, Naula Astuti and Nurwardiah, and his 18-year-old engineering student son Darman live with their ailing great aunt in a room in temporary barracks an hour away by motorbike. Lely desperately wants to bring the remnants of the family back to Krueng Cutbut can't until he puts a roof on the house he has partly rebuilt with his own funds. He's run out of money and isn't sure whether or when Care will help. The US megacharity is ploughing huge resources into the area but there are are so many organisational layers between Care and individuals that even after the Guardian organised a meeting between senior officials and Lely, he wasn't much the wiser. Lely sits in the one covered room of the house, chain-smoking and obsessively taking out and putting back pictures of his family from a cigar box. In that, he is lucky: he was away when the tsunami struck. Most of his neighbours lost their photos. "It's too depressing to stay here alone in the evenings. If I get depressed my son won't like it. He worries about me." In the whole district, 44% of the population were killed. The Indonesian government and foreign aid organisations can do nothing to repopulate Krueng Cut Street. That's up to the survivors, and they've begun. At 53, Muhammad Johan, for instance, has taken a new wife, Erawati, 20 years his junior; Harunabdullah has married his late wife's young sister. Lely wants to bring his dead brother-in-law's aged mother to live with him, even though she's not a blood relative. A hundred yards across open ground from Krueng CutStreet, next to a temporary mosque built by Pakistan, is a six-classroom temporary primary school built by Coca-Cola. It stands in for a school which had 260 pupils. Now there are only 60, and 30 of them come from outside the district. You wouldn't know to see or hear the boisterous kids in their crimson trousers and skirts and white shirts, with their Sponge bob Square pants rucksacks, what they've lost. "Some of the children have a new mother and a new father, as well as new brothers and sisters," said one of the teachers. But the scars remain. "So many of the children have lost parents that they're reluctant to go to school and not interested in learning. Actually, we'd like counseling, but nobody comes. It used to be that we talked to them about the tsunami, about how it was God's reminder to the people. We tried to encourage them not to be sad any more, just to take it as God's lesson, which is what we believe ... they looked so sad, and turned away from me, so I stopped telling them." The district will hold a commemoration in the dusty open space between the mosque and the school on Monday, the first anniversary of the tsunami. A cow will be slaughtered and there'll be prayers. Lely said he wouldn't be doing anything special. "I don't want any monuments to those who were killed," he said. "I just want to finish the house. Then I'd like to have a small party and invite some of the orphans to the house, to pray for those who died.".