Blue ocean
Holds my heart and tears
Reminds me of you
So far away

Today is the ninth anniversary of the 2002 Bali Bombings. The bombings killed 202 people, including 88 Australians, and Bali is often considered our version of September 11, the moment when our part of the world changed forever.

Many of those killed and injured in the attacks came from Coogee, very near where we live in Randwick, and this memorial was erected in 2003 as a place of remembrance and reflection. It’s a beautiful, quiet spot overlooking the ocean and I often find myself spending time there when I’m in Coogee… I can’t think of a better tribute to their memory. I actually took this photo a few months ago, the day after Osama bin Laden died, and I thought I’d save it to post today.

In many ways it’s hard to believe it’s only been nine years since the bombings as so much has happened since. But even with Amrozi gone & so much time passed, it’s amazing how quickly the memories come back. I still remember that day so well… hearing about it on the news, seeing the fires burning, reading the names of the dead and missing in the local paper. Those memories will be with me for the rest of my life.

When I think about Bali I’m mostly filled with sadness now; for the suffering that was caused; for how the world has changed. But most often I find myself thinking of this memorial and what it represents, a place of peace and reflection, and I find myself hoping that one day, perhaps, the whole world might be as peaceful… that would be the true memorial.

Photo and haiku © CJ Levinson 2011

Update: I wrote this poem as well for the fifth anniversary. I thought I’d share it again in case anyone would like to read it.

I often find myself thinking back to that day. I was sixteen at the time and my parents and I were living in a hideous cockroach-infested flat in Hillsdale that we hated and were trying to move out of as quickly as possible. At the time I felt miserable; it was one of the first times that my health had worsened and I felt trapped and lonely and missed my friends. I’d also just received several nasty rejection letters, which for a sixteen year old who’d only just started writing were devastating.

Then September 11 happened and it put some things in perspective. I can still remember exactly where I was when I first heard about it; I was having a shower when my mother knocked on the door and said there’d been an explosion at the World Trade Center. I didn’t understand at first; I thought she meant there’d been an accident and didn’t think much more about it while I finished and got changed. When I came through though I knew immediately it was serious; my parents were staring at the television, horrified. I looked at the TV which had crossed to one of the US stations and saw the smoke and fire… and then moments later the second plane flew into the South Tower.

For as long as I live I don’t think I’ll ever forget the feeling in my stomach as I watched the plane hit; it was almost physical, like my soul had suddenly been ripped from my body. I felt weak at the knees and had to sit down. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; I remember hearing shouts and screams coming through the TV but it felt surreal, like I was watching it all from somewhere far away.

We just stared at the TV for a while after that, talking a little but mostly just watching. One of the main things I remember is seeing people jumping from the windows, jumping and falling. I didn’t understand at first; I thought it was debris. I think deep down I knew they were people jumping but my mind just wasn’t able to accept what I was seeing. Then the towers collapsed; each time it happened it felt like it was in slow motion and I remember trying to speak, to shout, but only managed a whispery “no”. My eyes were wet and I cried silently, the first time I had cried in years.

Probably what I remember the most though are the images and sounds from the aftermath; of people walking through the streets, dazed, covered in dust; of walls covered with photos of the missing and flowers; of hundreds of shrill alarms ringing constantly in the background of news reports. I’d actually not known what those alarms were until I heard it mentioned today; I had thought they were car alarms but they were the alarms that the firefighters wore, going off beneath the rubble.

Most of all though I remember the solidarity afterward, the way America and the world seemed to come together in the days and weeks after the attacks. There was anger and sadness but also hope and unity as well. It wasn’t just America that was attacked that day, it was an attack on the values of the Western world and in a way I think, on that day, we were all Americans. We stood as one.

I had thought my memories of September 11 would fade somewhat as time went by and to some extent they have but I don’t think that they will ever truly fade. I think certain experiences have such a strong impact on you that you never forget them; they become part of you and shape who you are and, even watching from half the world away, September 11 was one for me.

I think one of the reasons why it had such a strong impact on me, other than the visual impact, was that it was the first event that really changed how I looked and thought about the world. As someone who grew up in the 90s, the world seemed a lot smaller and simpler before September 11; the attacks made me realise just how large and complicated the world really was and I suppose I lost my innocence on that day in many ways.

The other reason I think is because September 11 was the catalyst that eventually led me to becoming an atheist. I know many people found comfort in religion after the attacks (and later after Bali too) and I understand why but personally I struggled to balance what happened with what I’d been taught to believe. While it wasn’t until much later in 2007/2008 that I finally became an atheist, looking back I can see now that it was September 11 that started it.

Thinking about September 11 now though, it’s remarkable how much has happened and how much the world has changed over the last ten years. I doubt that there’s one part of our lives that hasn’t been affected by September 11 in some way; from security at airports when we fly, to the way we interact with different cultures, to the media saturation and the kinds of entertainment we consume, to the way we’ve learnt to live with fear and uncertainty. It really is a different world.

If I’m honest like many people I’m not that happy about a lot of what has changed. I understand the need for increased security but I find the intrusion into our everyday lives by both government and police excessive and the way that our rights have been restricted and the way asylum seekers continue to be treated by the government in the name of national security particularly concerns me. Perhaps it’s a necessary evil but it feels more and more like we’re being ruled by Big Brother in Australia and that’s not an environment I want to live in.

It is remarkable just how much has happened in the last ten years though when you stop to think about it. If someone had told me that New York, Bali, Madrid and London would be attacked and we’d see the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, devastating earthquakes and tsunamis across Asia, governments overthrown, the first African American President and Australia’s first female Prime Minister, the end of Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden, the rise of the Kindle and the iPad and social networking, the death of Heath Ledger and Michael Jackson, all within the next ten years, I wouldn’t have believed them. It feels like enough to have filled two decades… and yet at times it’s all gone by so quickly as well.

For me personally a lot has changed over the last ten years as well. In 2001 I was 16 and dreamt of being a journalist; next week I’ll be 27 and that dream is now mostly just a memory. I have a beard and a little less hair now and I feel older and a little wiser. My taste in music has changed, as has my taste in food. My health is probably worse now than it was, yet somehow I feel happier and more content with who I am at the same time.

I’ve had my heart broken and my dreams trampled on but somehow I’ve always come back stronger. I no longer wear glasses except to read and I’m finally working on my first novel. I’ve felt helpless while my grandmother almost died and I’ve lost old friends and made new ones and we’re about to move again now after almost a decade. So much has changed, and yet, so much is still the same. Life goes on, I guess, even when you’re not looking.

One of the things I always think about with September 11 as well is music. I remember in the days after the attacks I would often turn on the radio or MusicMax, just to take myself away from the scenes that dominated the news, if only for a few minutes. It was how I discovered many of my favourite artists, like Dido and Sarah McLachlan, Radiohead and Nick Cave and Coldplay.

There’s one song though that more than any other I associate with September 11. It’s Ryan Adams’ New York, New York. It was shot just four days before the attacks and contains some of the last recorded footage of the towers before they fell.

At the time the song felt somewhat bittersweet as it was a beautiful song, yet the lyrics carried these sad double-meanings because of September 11 and the video that accompanied it. But as time has gone by, the feeling I get when I listen to the song has changed; listening to it now, it feels more hopeful and reminds me of how time heals. While there is still a sadness to it I think, listening to it now, ten years on, the true character of the song has returned… rather like New York itself.

So I thought I’d post the song today as perhaps more than anything, this is the feeling I have now, ten years on, when I think about September 11… of sadness and reflection, of remembrance, but also of hope and life moving on, and for me this song represents that.

My thoughts and best wishes go out to all of my friends and everyone in the US on this difficult day. May we never forget. And to everyone who lost someone that day, and to everyone that survived, I hope you have begun to find peace.

Images from Wikimedia Commons

The next day of life:
Sorrow rising with the sun
A broken heart mourns

Memories of you:
A kiss under candlelight
Our daughter’s first smile

Clothes in the closet
Sleeping in an empty bed:
An intense longing

Faces on billboards
Flags unmoving in the breeze:
Two towers, falling

One among thousands
Lying in a smoky grave:
Irreplaceable

A river of dreams:
Thoughts of a different life
I shall not forget

Our children playing:
Moments of laughter and joy
Love lasts forever

Rain striking windows
Sunset on the horizon:
Life begins again

Licenced under a Creative Commons Licence

I almost can’t believe it has been seven years since 9/11. It’s gone so quickly; the memories and emotions are still so raw. And yet so much has happened in the seven years. It feels like a different world now; less innocent and sure of itself. That one moment changed so much.

I still remember it so clearly. My parents told me there had been an explosion at the World Trade Center; I came through to watch just as the second plane struck. For hours we just sat there, feeling helpless and numb. My thoughts went to my friends in America and while they were okay, it seemed like everyone knew someone who had been affected by the attacks.

What I remember most about 9/11 is actually the following day, September 12. As it happened during our night there wasn’t much information available until the 12th our time. All during that day, wherever you went, people were stunned. That an attack like 9/11 might happen somewhere had always been a grim possibility but the extent was beyond anyone’s worst fears.

As time passed we heard about the signs people missed but I try not to think about them too much. I don’t think anything could have stopped 9/11; contained the damage, perhaps, but not stopped it. While knowing where the agencies and bureaucracy went wrong is important, it’s easy to focus on that so much that we forget the human impact as well.

Almost 3000 people died on 9/11 but it means so much more than that… the husbands and wives who never went home, the fire fighters and police officers who gave their lives. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to live with the grief the families must still feel… to watch your child grow up without their mother or father. It must be heart-breaking.

I started to write this poem for last year’s anniversary but it was never quite what I wanted it to be. I’m happier with it now; I decided to post it on the 12th instead as it’s about the day after the attacks and learning to live with the grief. I hope it is a respectful tribute to the people who died and their families. May we never forget them.

October 12 (Bali Bombings)
CJ Levinson

I wonder what you saw
When you looked at the world?
Did you see how far we’d come?
I wish I’d known how to open your eyes
So that you could really see

You asked me why I don’t believe in God
And I still don’t know if I can explain
All I know is the saddest thing I’ve ever seen
Took all my faith away

On October 12
October 12

I looked for you amongst the ashes
Of that terrible, broken place
But the smoke caught in my eyes and lungs
And pain was all I could see

I stayed up for days, trying to find an answer
But you were gone forever
And the last time I saw you
Is the last thing I’ll remember
Lying broken beneath bags of ice
Gone forever

On October 12
October 12

We were so young
Thinking we could live forever
We could never really see

But I’ll wait for you
And I’ll remember you
Forever

Licenced under a Creative Commons Licence

In the meantime Bear’s latest is Quantico, a novel based heavily on the fear of extremism. His story is set in a near-future where the Terror War is in its second decade and not progressing well. The Dome of the Rock has been destroyed by terrorists and a second attack of the scale of 9/11 has rocked the US; the threat of terrorists obtaining chemical and biological weapons has never been higher. In this atmosphere, three young FBI agents have recently graduated from Quantico; it is believed they could be among the last to graduate as critics seek to shut down the FBI for good. But when rumours of an immense planned terrorist attack begin to emerge, the agents find themselves in a race against time to stop it.

The first thing which struck me about Quantico was its tone; it’s dark and pervasive. There’s little optimism in the novel and not much humour, something which is unusual for one of Bear’s novels. Quantico represents the fears we all have in a post 9/11 world and at times is very confronting. Some people might find it too confronting but that tone is necessary for the novel to convey its message. Bio-terror, extremism and global politics form the backdrop for the world we live in and I found Bear’s depiction of a believable direction for the War on Terror both troubling and resonant.

Quantico works primarily on a suspense level as the FBI agents try to unravel who is behind the threat of passing a deadly strain of anthrax to religious fanatics; we’ve all thought about the idea of a chemical or biological weapon being used but here Bear takes it a step further – what if that weapon could be keyed to target a specific race? Suddenly the Holocaust doesn’t seem so distant and Bear’s science makes the premise scarily plausible. The characterisations in Quantico are also strong. The characters come across as flawed and believable, reacting realistically to the situation they find themselves in; Rebecca Rose, for instance, shows the impact of living with terror for 20 years, obsessed with cleanliness and her job, so much so that she has no other life.

The focus on Fouad Al-Husam (one of the agents) also gives the novel an interesting dynamic, contrasting modern Islam with fundamentalism and allowing Bear to explore the extent of profiling within the FBI. Another interesting aspect is that Islamic extremism is not the larger enemy in Bear’s work; rather much of it focuses on a domestic form of terrorism instead which makes the threat even more immediate, showing how fanaticism can arise anywhere, and the circumstances which might lead someone to committing such an act.

That said, a few things didn’t work as well as I might have liked. The main problem is that the ending, though bringing about a resolution, feels slightly abrupt; after a lengthy lead-in I would have liked to have seen the consequences followed though a bit more, to see the full impact on the characters. Also the internal politics of the FBI play a large and necessary role in the novel, but in certain scenes seem to weigh the story down more than in others, and more than any of the science. Likewise you could say that some of the government infighting seems slightly forced after a second 9/11 (although it might be accurate given the current partisanship).

But those are fairly minor points and the unnerving story arc is more than enough to pull the reader through from beginning to end. The pace is sharp and Quantico presents a compelling and intelligent examination of the War on Terror and our world as it might become. If you’re interested in a science-thriller based on current world events, I’d highly recommend it.