Mr Timor – East Timor 27th May 2008

Forget American Pop Idol, forget the Eurovision Song Contest, the biggest extravaganza of the year was Mr Timor! Seven (very brave) luscious men, strutting their stuff in front of 300 screaming women (and men!) at the Atlantic Grill on Saturday night. Apart from a few Dili hitches such as power cuts, the night flowed as easily as the Bintang did. Even the wimpy men that didn’t have the guts to enter got Dutch courage after a couple of beverages and did an impromptu strip and strut. The winner of the evening was a gorgeous Timorese boxer, with an amazing physique much to Lisa’s luck as she was the winner of the raffle, first prize, a date with Mr. Timor. All the money raised goes to promoting HIV prevention and awareness in East Timor, so a great cause as well as a fantastic night.

I love menus in Asia, they are a constant source of amusement for the spelling mistake and Dili is no exception. In the Dili Club you can get unchooies on your pizza, at the Saigon you can order Sweetcorn and Crap meat soup, but still nothing could top the old Filipino restaurant that used to offer Chicken Crispy Skin and Ass (no spelling mistake there!)

I’ve just finished teaching the kids at one of the International Schools about Project AWARE and Reef Conservation. The ages ranged from 8 to 12 and boy do they have imaginations, they ask intelligent questions too like ‘How do they dynamite fish? Because if you lit the fuse and threw it in the water, the fuse would go out’. We played great games like pin the fins on the fish and measuring a blue whale and over 5 weeks we built a mural of the reef in East Timor, I’ve never seen quite as many whales and dolphins in one place, but their artistic talents are amazing.

Talking of artistic talents I actually picked up a pencil and completed a drawing last week for the first time since I left school. I sat in on an art class at Arte Morris, the kids there put me to shame, and they are so talented, picking up shading and perspective so easily (credit to the teacher of course). It’s a great organisation and some of the art they produce is stunning. They have a new exhibition in Hotel Timor for Independence Day, so I’m going to have a look this afternoon.

Unfortunately, I was working on Independence Day, so missed the parade which was reported as fantastic, I also missed the fireworks because they were moved from 8.30 at Jesus to 7.30 at the Palace. Still by the sounds of the vibe it was much more of a celebration than the last two years, may be now as things are settling down here there is more reason to celebrate.

Return of Ramos – East Timor 1st May 2008

I’ve been playing international jet setter; well, Indonesia and Singapore! I took a well needed holiday in Bali and really pampered myself. I’d received a wonderful birthday present of a massage in Bali at one of the top reputed spas which was wonderful. Then through a friend I met a lady called Jenny who runs a spa school in Bali and she asked Camilla and me if we would like to be guinea pigs for her graduates. Of course Camilla and I jumped at the chance and had an aromatherapy massage one day and a full body scrub another day which was a bit strange because they scrub you with a turmeric mixture then plaster you with yoghurt. I felt like an Indian takeaway.

Meanwhile, back in East Timor, Ramos Horta returned home from his hospital stint in Darwin to a reception of thousands of teary eyed supporters on the streets. The road to his house (outside which he was shot) was completely repaired and resurfaced in a matter of days prior to his arrival. This is a pretty amazing feat in East Timor given the state of most of the roads in the city, and the road was renamed April the 17th Avenue, marking the day of his return.

The coverage from Australia Network showed Ramos Horta visiting the medical facility that acted so quickly evacuating him when he was shot. Ramos Horta thanked some of the Australian troops that were on duty that day, they shook his hand and said ‘That’s ok Sir’, whereas when Ramos thanked the Timorese staff, there were hugs all round and not a dry eye in the house.

A few days after his return the curfew was lifted except in one area where Salsinha was still in hiding. He has since given himself up, exactly two years since the crisis started in April 2006.

Meanwhile, I flew to Singapore to attend the Asia Dive Expo. The East Timorese Government had a stand there and I was representing one of the dive companies. The show wasn’t huge but the number of people that attended kept you busy all day. It’s been a long time since I’ve done an exhibition and forgotten how much your back and feet kill you, that and the fact you feel like a parrot saying the same thing a thousand times over. Still, if it boosts the tourism industry in East Timor it will be great.

I haven’t been to Singapore for years, even the airport is impressive. The hall for immigration alone is bigger than Dili International airport. Within half an hour we had got through customs, changed money, bought a SIM card, booked a hotel and got our luggage. In contrast to Dili International which in fairness, has seen the return of the little café, so at least you can now buy water. Upon entry to the airport terminal you are faced with a sign that reads ‘All weapons are to be inspected and cleared with the magazine removed prior to entering this terminal’, there is even a diagram with a picture of a machine gun and the correct way to unload the magazine! At check in the luggage is moved by hand, the waiting room is hot and sticky with ineffectual air conditioning units and you walk to the plane in the blazing sun. But with two flights a day, you hardly need the Singaporean efficiency.

The other thing I got used to was having the loo flushed for me. As soon as your derriere leaves the seat in Singapore, the automatic flush kicks in, I got back to Bali and was waiting for the toilet to flush itself. Similarly with the taps, I stood with my hand under the tap in Bali and realized I had to turn the tap on myself! How soon we get used to things.

Taxis were another source of fascination to me, smart, leather upholstered cars with Sat Nav, credit card swipe facilities and the automatic printing of receipts. A far cry from Dili taxis. However, I have seen some smart new yellow taxis on the streets of Dili and after the recent removal of the blackened windows from taxis, the absence of just a two inch strip for vision is more reassuring. A few adventurous taxis have replaced their windscreen slogans with slightly smaller ones that don’t obscure half the windscreen, so my driving amusement is starting to come back again. However a couple of new ones make me wonder if they ever want any business, there is ‘Broken’ and La Diak (which means ‘No Good’ in Tetum). Would you get in a taxi that’s advertising itself in this way? And last but not least there is a microlet sporting the banner ‘Lottery’!

Pink Wellies – East Timor 2nd April 2008

Last year I was in England for Easter and the year before troubles were afoot so this year I was quite taken aback with the level of celebration Easter causes in East Timor. My first real encounter of a Dili traffic jam was Palm Sunday, thinking we were being clever we chose to go East via the Bekora route and found ourselves in what I can only compare to the Notting Hill Festival; people everywhere dressed in their finest, holding intricately woven palm leaves. One little girl caught my eye in a bright pink nylon fairy dress with matching pink wellington boots. Please, nobody light a cigarette near her! It never ceases to amaze me, the extent of synthetic fibres worn on a Sunday. In this heat, I sweat in cotton clothes, but I’m a Malai, I guess if you were born here you would be acclimatised. I get the Wellington Boots though, we have had so much rain here recently and as I live in flip-flops I’ve got a permanently soggy bum and dirty calves as the flip-flop flicks mud up your legs.

Easter Sunday we got stuck at Hera behind a procession carrying 13 crosses. The UNPol at the checkpoint cleverly diverted the traffic through a back road, unfortunately, they didn’t put anyone directing further down, so all the cars turned too soon and got stuck in a side road just before the church entrance. Not close enough to see the procession unfortunately.

The curfew has been extended again but now it’s 11pm until 5am. To me this curfew makes very little difference as I’m rarely out after 10 in the evenings, but you have to respect it. One Sunday night when the curfew was still 10pm I encountered a young woman who was completely plastered around 8pm. I stayed until 9 and advised her to get a lift home and not to drive. After I had left, she got several offers of lifts home but refused saying she was ok to drive. Of course, when the time came she couldn’t seem to get the car started (probably as she was using her house key to try and start the car), meanwhile curfew time came and went, so the UNPol turned up and asked if they could assist her by giving her a lift home. Being intoxicated as many of us know can affect you sense of reasoning, she decided to call her own security officer (her boss), slurring down the phone, way after curfew. Needless to say she had left the country by the Tuesday. What a way to get yourself sacked from an Aid Agency, call your boss and tell them you are in trouble, pissed and after curfew, doh!

When I first got to East Timor Manuel spoke very little, of any language. The strong silent type! So my communication with him resulted to a lot of pointing and gesturing. Two years later, I guess Manuel has resigned himself that my Tetum will probably never extend beyond ‘Good Morning, how are you?’ so he has been coming out with a few words in English, which not only astounds me but also his East Timorese co-workers. According to Jose and Nelson, Manuel can now count in English and he says goodbye to his colleagues with ‘See you tomorrow’, in English, which amuses them no end.

Manuel is the only one of the guys that is not a diver, he can’t swim. But he is not afraid of wading in the water to help divers out or retrieve equipment during my Rescue courses. During one of these courses I was swimming out with Jose who was playing the rescue victim. Jose said ‘Look at Mr Manuel’. Manuel was standing in the shallows with a wetsuit and mask on peering in the water. So next time I was out diving at K41 in the surface interval I put a wetsuit, fins, mask and an inflated BCD on Manuel and took him snorkelling. He swallowed a bit of water and I think he was relieved when he could put his feet down again, but he told the other guys he enjoyed it.

Continuing the lighter theme from Christmas, we have been inundated with cheap Chinese musical lighters that play the most god awful tunes that stay in your head for the rest of the day. At Landmark Supermarket today they are advertising Musical Lighters 35c, lighters with no music 50c. People would rather pay a higher price for ordinary lighters than be subjected to the tinny tunes every time they light up!

Lastly, I returned home today and my landlord told me he had fixed my water problem. Yippee! Since I moved in, water has been sporadic at best. This is mainly due to lack of town water in this area. During the day they fill the water tank so that we have water at night when the town water is at its weakest. The only problem is that I don’t have regular transport, so John used wait until he saw my car arrive and then open the water. Of course when I didn’t have a car, I wouldn’t have water either. This week has fluctuated between no water at all, a tiny cold trickle or such bad water pressure that you get scolded. So hopefully my water problems are fixed, but it makes me cringe to think of those villages I went through a few weeks ago relying on one small hand pump and a well for all their water needs. My water problems pale into insignificance.