Jakarta Globe, Dyah Ayu Pitaloka, Aug 03, 2014
Catur
Handayani’s thin hair is wet, her face fresh from a shower. She lives in a
house in Codo village in the East Java town of Malang. By 10 a.m. she has
finished all her chores, which include cleaning the house, washing her two
sibling’s and father’s clothes, and cooking their food. She carries out her
role as the mistress of the house, despite suffering from a lymphatic vessel
tumor for the past five years that has disfigured her face and subjects her to
searing headaches.
“I became
sick in the fifth grade. I just found out about the disease after I was sent to
the hospital in 2013. I stopped going to school after I became sick,” says the
18-year-old, her voice hoarse and her breathing raspy.
Catur, the
fourth of six children, is thin but her eyelids are swollen and bulging.
“My eyes
became swollen after the chemo,” she says. “I’m supposed to do chemo five
times, but I only did it once, in June 2013. My father didn’t want to take me
to the hospital because there wasn’t any money, and my pain got worse.”
Every night
she feels sore. If she works too much she gets tired and dizzy. But she keeps
doing the chores she has always done since her mother and later her step-mother
left her father. Her three elder siblings have also left home and started their
own families.
Catur
starts her day by fetching water from a well outside the house to fill up a tub
in the bamboo bathroom at the back. After that, she sweeps the dirt floor of
the two-bedroom house, then does the laundry and bathes her little sister, Ana
Mayasa, 12, and brother Slamet, 6.
Ana, who
has suffered from polio since birth, requires special care. Slamet has never
attended a formal school and has difficulties communicating.
“I bathe
them with a sponge and then change Ana’s diapers. She can’t walk,” Catur says.
On
Wednesdays, Catur fired up a side dish of salted fish and tofu to go with their
rice. The fuel for the stove is a pile of dried palm branches. “I gather the
branches from around the yard. Usually my father also helps to gather them,”
Catur says.
She says
she feels lucky when, in her spare time, she can tune out in front of the small
television in the room that she shares with her sister and brother.
The TV was
a gift from donor last year. Another donor gave the family a mattress a week
earlier, with pillows, and Catur says she’s been able to sleep more comfortably
since.
Sugiyono,
Catur’s father, is the family’s sole breadwinner. Every day he goes out to the
local market and sells secondhand bicycles. When he leaves, he locks the front
door from the outside. “If it’s not locked, my son Slamet can wander around and
get hit by a vehicle,” he says.
The
bamboo-thatched house sits on communal land owned by the village. Sugiyono
previously moved around, always in the vicinity of the market, before the house
was built. All the material to build it was donated by the village, while most
of the furnishings come from Samaritans in the area.
“I got help
getting electricity from my neighbors. My house depends on the village head. If
he wants to reclaim this land, well, I’d have to move,” Sugiyono says.
He says he
rarely makes enough money to afford food every day. He’s on a health insurance
scheme provided by the government, but still can’t afford to get treatment at
the Saiful Anwar hospital in downtown Malang, 30 kilometers away.
“We were
once given a list of medication from the hospital. Whenever my daughter’s
headaches start up, she has to buy the medicine on the list. It costs
Rp 5,000
[42 cents] per medication,” Sugiyono says.
In spite of
their struggles, Catur hopes to recover one day. She does her chores gamely,
without complaining or letting the pain get to her. The support and attention
from the generous people around them has strengthened her spirit.
“If I
recover from this pain I want to return to school. Now, I often feel dizzy when
I think too hard,” she says.
The Codo
village chief, Joko Sugiharto, says the family is one of three that live on
land borrowed from the village. In each case, the village has built them a
simple house to live in.
To help
with medication fees, the whole family is registered for medical aid. In
addition they are also eligible for state-subsidized rice, or raskin, and cash
handouts from the government, or BLT.
“For their
medical treatment, it’s all free. The only reason they don’t go is because they
don’t have the money to get to Malang,” Joko says.
Last year,
the village pulled together to help get Catur to a hospital. At the time all
the medical expenses were covered by the health coverage, while other costs
were covered by local benefactors.
“The
villagers give because they can’t bear” to see the family suffer, Joko says.
At around
11 a.m. that day, four young men visit Catur’s house: “They’re the sons of some
rich people at Wajak Market, and they want to take Catur back to the hospital
for treatment,” Joko says.
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