Over the SG50 weekend, the DK team had gone over to Batam, with the intention of exploring and finding out the truth behind the stories of Galang Camp. For those who do not know, Galang Camp was a refugee camp set up by the United Nations, to accommodate Vietnamese (and a small number of Cambodians) refugees evading the atrocities of the Vietnamese War. During its years of operation from 1979 to 1996, approximately 250,000 lives had passed through its grounds.
Galang Camp, though basic in its amenities, had a hospital, schools (operated by NGOs such as Save The Children, Ecoles Sans Frontieres, etc), coffee houses, and an administration office. It is here that refugees lived, while waiting to be assigned locations for resettlement.
Our initial plan was to take a look at the grounds while the sun was still up, and to return later on in the night for the recce. Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, it was near dusk when we reached the gates of the camp, only to be further delayed by corrupt money-eating human-ghosts that are rampant in the land of Indonesia.
It is here, at the gates of Galang Camp, while sitting in the 14-seater van, that I realized the change in atmosphere. There was a different frequency in the energy surrounding us, agitating, and putting us on the edge, making us a little more vocal and annoyed with each other. It could be that an outsider was putting his hands into our plans, it could be that we were in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no network or reception, it could be that we were fast approaching dusk, and we were being held back by unnecessary hindrances. It could be many things, but it could also be that the negativity in the air was prevalent.
Having gotten past the entrance and guardhouse, we drove to our first stop, the Nghia-Trang Cemetery, one of the few cemeteries on the camp grounds.
A rumour related to us by a local, tells of how a particular grave at the top of this hill, was found to have opened up on its own. Curious, we walked up to check if we could locate it. Unfortunately, due to the decreasing of natural light and the threat of darkness blanketing the skies, we were unable to find the grave to proof that the rumour was indeed, true.
While the rest went back to the waiting van, a few of us (Naz, Arif, Abg Aim, Mail and me), proceeded to the entrance of the cemetery (refer to first pic of cemetery above), where we began to shoot our introduction for the Galang video. It took us an unusually long time (5-10 minutes), to get the hang of our camera, as the screen would go blur frequently, without any reason.
As you can see from the photos above, there was still some natural light when were there in the cemetery. However, approximately 15 minutes into the shooting, I realized that the certain sourish smell that had hit my nostril upon my first step into the cemetery, had gotten stronger. It was faint at first, and then it became stronger and stronger, as if willing me to go away from the grounds. Holding the camera down, and looking at the other members, it seemed like no one was smelling what I did. So I ignored and persevered, till the smell felt like it was going up my nose and wrapping itself around my head, that I tapped Mail and signaled to him that something was not right.
Having done our introduction shoot, we left the cemetery back into the van, to our next stop. Seated in the van, I smelled the sour scent again, and this time, I tapped Boy and signaled to him, asking if he smelled anything, to which he said no. Strange.
Next, quick stop (museum):
The Vietnamese had fled their country, to Galang Camp, in boats, in conditions so dire that sometimes a 12m boat, ferried up to 150 adults and children. So cramped were the boats that refugees had to urinate and defecate in the spots they sat in, till arrival at Galang!
Can you spot one of such boats in the photo below? (Notice the orbs hovering around said boat)
A short drive away later, about 20 metres from the main road, was the hospital. It was made up of one-storey buildings lined in a square formation, in the middle of which could have been a garden, now filled with trees and overgrown shrubbery. Additional buildings could be found to the sides or the back of this main square.
The air was tense, my body picked up on the feelings of fear, sadness and abandonment. It must have been sad, to have to leave your homeland, and be a refugee in a foreign land, awaiting your future in an unknown place. In recorded histories available on the Internet, I read of families torn apart, children arriving at Galang without their parents, and of vulnerable girls being the victims of rape in the camp. I can imagine the chaos, the misery, all the negative energy that was present in 1979-1996, that lingers, till now.
Barely what seemed like 15 minutes into the recce, our emcee, Arif, signalled for help as he felt a sudden discomfort, a lightness/giddiness and a fainting sensation overcoming him. First aided by Abang Aim, followed by Mail, then lastly, Abang Man -- it took all of 3 persons to expel whatever it was that caused Arif to fear that he could not continue with the recce.
Can you guess what room is the following photo of?
In the middle of our recce in the old hospital of Galang Camp, we were shooting, as usual, when suddenly, there was a loud BANG! It sounded like something heavy had fallen onto the roof of the building we were in.
Mail and I went to check if there was indeed a large tree that could have had its heavy branch drop onto the roof, only to find that there was no such possibility, as seen in the following photo:
Again, as we were filming part of the closing shoot, this time outside the building structures, suddenly there was a menacing growling, followed by vomiting sounds. Apparently, one of the locals who had tagged along with us, had a near brush with a possession, but was fortunately saved by our guide, Pak Megat.
To view our shortclip (including disturbances mentioned above) on Galang Camp, kindly click the following:
It is with much regret that we ended with less than half of our initial photos and footage, due to blurred images, even blank photos, and video without audio.
Even for the final group photo below, a few attempts were made before we could secure a shot. This was because the first few times one of the locals was trying to capture the photo, the camera switched itself off everytime he clicked the shutter.
Rest assured, we will be back at Galang Camp in the near future.
And this time, we will be better prepared to bring you more evidence and stories!
For videos and photos of DK's recces, please visit the following link:
