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Every once in a while, when he assumed I was not watching him, I would catch a glimpse of what seemed a look of disorientation of some kind pass across his face.
I never wanted to embarrass him by asking what was going through his mind, but I came to believe that I was getting a glimpse of some very painful scars on his psyche from his time in prison and from the stress of his work in Aceh under many years of military rule.
Later, we were also together during the peace talks in Helsinki, where he was one of GAM’s negotiators and I had the honor of briefly serving as an advisor to the GAM negotiating team before they decided, at least for the foreseeable future, to give up the fight for independence.
With the tsunami, the Acehnese had just experienced too much death all at once.
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In the years since the conflict ended, I remain banned by the Indonesian government from entering Indonesia and Aceh.
But Nurdin and I stayed in touch by phone, email and text.
I don’t think we saw each other except for a few days in Australia.
He was elected as Bupati of Bireuen and then was jailed for some improprieties.
Afterwards, he struggled financially.
But through the ups, he never got high-and-mighty and acted like he was some big, important leader.
And through the downs, he never was anyone but that unfailingly fearless, thoughtful, kind-hearted man I met almost twenty years earlier who had dedicated his life to Aceh’s freedom.
When I received the news a couple of mornings ago that Nurdin had died, I found myself in tears, of course.
I knew it was not Nurdin’s style, but I knew also that he would know what it meant: that I respected him and loved him and the freedom he was able to find even in the most difficult times.(*)