The aftermath....

East Timor Rioters Attack UN Convoy as Violence Expands in East

By Emma O'Brien

Aug. 13 (Bloomberg) -- Violence in East Timor, sparked by the exclusion of the Fretilin party from government for the first time since independence five years ago, intensified in the country's east with an attack on a United Nations convoy.

Three UN vehicles were ambushed Aug. 11 as they drove between Bacau, East Timor's second-largest city, and Viqueque, where more than 140 houses were destroyed in earlier rioting. Shots were fired and stones were thrown at the convoy, which carried seven UN personnel, two local police officers and an aid worker, said Allison Cooper, the UN mission's spokeswoman.

``The situation in the east remains volatile and extra UN police and military have been deployed there,'' she said by phone from the capital, Dili. ``The attack on the convoy is the worst incident we've seen and it has been very strongly condemned.''

Supporters of Fretilin rioted after the Aug. 6 appointment as prime minister of former President Xanana Gusmao, who assembled a three-party coalition with a parliamentary majority. Fretilin, which won the most votes at the June 30 election and has dominated East Timorese politics since independence from Indonesia, said Gusmao's appointment was unconstitutional.

Australian-led peacekeepers and UN police were deployed to the nation of 1 million people last May, after fighting between groups from the western and eastern regions killed 37 people and drove 150,000 from their homes.

Thousands Displaced

Relief supplies and 20 extra soldiers were sent to Viqueque, about five hours drive east of Dili, Cooper said. As many as 2,000 people are estimated to have been displaced there, she added.

Police are also investigating claims by a priest that ``several'' girls were raped Aug. 12 in a convent in the country's east, the Associated Press reported. Father Basilio Maria Ximenes said an 8-year-old girl was among those assaulted at the Salesian Don Bosco Convent, AP said.

The UN received a report of a rape and had been told the perpetrator was arrested, Cooper said.

Fretilin offered to investigate the UN convoy attack, which it said was provoked by UN police destroying protesters' banners and flags, the party said in an e-mailed statement.

``We condemn all acts of violence and again call on our supporters and those of other parties to exercise their legal right to demonstrate by peaceful means,'' party Vice President Arsenio Bano said. He denounced ``rumors reported in foreign media'' that Fretilin had distributed weapons to its supporters in order to provoke an armed insurrection in the country.

Gusmao, who was imprisoned for more than six years for his pro-independence activities, pledged to unite the nation when he was sworn in last week.

He will run a country that has a jobless rate of 50 percent, where about 42 percent of the population lives below the poverty line. While holding the rights to an estimated 8 trillion cubic feet of gas and 300 million barrels of light oil, East Timor is one of the region's poorest countries. The former Portuguese colony was occupied by Indonesia for 24 years.

To contact the reporter on this story: Emma O'Brien in Wellington on eobrien6@bloomberg.net

07 July 2007 - Slowly a picture emerges

In drips and drabs....

Slowly, slowly the vote counting is drawing to a close. It seems as if FRETILIN might have secured the greatest number of votes but without an outright majority, it may be forced to go into the position as the opposition as a coalition led by Xanana Gusmaoa's CNRT, snatches power. CNRT is promising to modernise Timor Leste with its posters filled with gleaming 1st world skyscrapers and an airport whose facade rivals that of JFK!!! The voters have drifted away from the ruling party - the party who emerged from the resistance movement but who has been unable to show the necessary ability to start Timor Leste down the path of development. Therein lies a salutary notice for similar regimes around the globe - most notably my own. Eventually the people will require some return on their investment of faith in you....

But so too the political landscape in Timor Leste shifts yet again with implications for the Labour ministry's Youth Employment Action Plan.. No doubt the Secretary of State for Youth and Sport whom I met will have vacated his office by Monday - he is too prominent a FRETILIN person to remain in the position. Hopefully his successor will build on what is good and that has been put in place over the past 2 years rather than undoing everything and taking another dilatory 2 years to start any sort of implementation. The Minister of Labour is probably another too prominent member of FRETILIN to leave in place. More's the pity because his has been a very active ministry - one that has been prepared to work - even through the crisis periods.

And so if this project with the MAGs takes off, if, when the funding is approved, new political relationships will have to be forged, a new vision jointly created and new opportunities exploited to help Timor Leste on the road to peace and development.....

06 July 2007 - Some perculiar signs

Scratching my head....

I thought you might also ponder about the significance of these signs....

03 July 2007 - An air of anticipation

An air of anticipation......

The past several days have been taken up with counting the votes in what were relatively peaceful parliamentary elections here in Timor-Leste. The watchful eyes of the observer missions - including a 19-member strong delegation from South Africa - have criss-crossed the rugged mountain terrain from Lautem to Maubisse, from Ermera to Los Palos, from Maliana to Baucau.

So now there is an air of anticipation of the result. What will happen? Will the (current) ruling party, FRETILIN, retain its hold? Or will it be squeezed out by a coalition of the smaller opposition parties (as happened in the Cape Town municipal elections)? Or will the voters have given a resounding victory to the challenging CNRT party?
And would that truly mean a change?Or will it be just so much political musical chairs? If that happens, the president and the prime minister will have swopped jobs - both of them founder members of FRETILIN (albeit more recently both have become disillusioned with the party and have started their own political parties).....

01 July 2007 How Timor Leste got its shape

How Timor Leste got its shape

I heard it said that there was once a crocodile who had lived for many hundreds of years in a swamp and whose great dream was to grow and reach a phenomenal size. But not only was he a small crocodile, he also lived in a very confined space. Only his dream was large.

A swamp, of course, is the worst possible place to live. Shallow, stagnant water, hemmed in by strange, ill-defined banks, and above all lacking in food to tempt a crocodile.For all these reasons, the crocodile was sick and tired of the swamp. But he had nowhere else to live.Over the years - thousands of years it would seem - it was the crocodile's love of talking that kept him going. Whenever he was awake, he would talk and talk... he would ask himself questions and then, as if he were somebody else, would answer them.Even so, when you talk to yourself like this for centuries, you begin to run out of topics of conversation.

Not only this, but the crocodile was also getting hungry, first because there weren't enough fish or other creatures in the swamp to provide him with suitable meals, and second because although they were tasty, tender animals to be caught, like goats, piglets and dogs, they all lived a long way of. "I'm sick of living on so little, in a place like this!," he would exclaim in exasperation. "Be patient, be patient...", replied his imaginary companion. "But a crocodile can't live on patience!," he would grumble.

There is of course a limit to everything, including resistance to hunger. The crocodile's body grew weak and his spirits sank. He eyes became dull and he could hardly lift his head or open his mouth. "I must get out of here and look for food further afield..." With an effort he climbed the bank and made his way through the mud and across the sand. The sun was high in the sky, scorching the ground. There was no refuge anywhere. The crocodile became weaker and weaker until he remained where he was, roasting alive.

At that moment a lively young lad happened to pass by, humming to himself. "What's the matter, Crocodile? You're in a bad way! Have you broken your legs? Did something fall on you?"
"No, I haven't broken anything. I'm all in one piece. It's just that although I'm small, I can't carry my own body any more. I'm too weak even to find a way out of this sweltering heat." The lad replied: "f that's all it is, I can help you." And with that he went up to the crocodile, picked him up and carried him to the edge of the swamp.

What the lad failed to notice as he carried him, however, was that the crocodile had perked up considerably: his eyes brightened and he opened his mouth and ran his tongue round his saw-like teeth.
"This lad must be tastier than anything I've ever eaten," thought the crocodile, and imagined stunning the lad with a lash from his tail and then gobbling him up.
"Don't be so ungrateful," replied the other voice inside himself.
"But the need justifies the end"
"That may be, but remember it is also shameful to betray a friend. And this is the first friend you've ever had."
"So you expect me to do nothing and starve to death?"
"The lad rescued you when you needed him. Now, if you want to survive, it's up to you to look for food."
"That's true.."
So when the lad placed him on the wet ground, the crocodile smiled, rolled his eyes, shook his tail and said:"Thank you. You're the first friend I've ever had. I can't give you anything in return, but if you never been further than this swamp we see all around us, and would like one day to travel abroad, to cross the sea, come and see me..."
"I'd like that very much, because it's my dream to see what lies out there across the sea"
"Dream? Did you say dream? I too have a dream," replied the crocodile. They went their separate ways, the lad little suspecting that the crocodile had been tempted to eat him. Which was just as well.

Time passed, and one day the lad returned. He hardly recognised the crocodile: his burns has disappeared and he looked plump and well fed. "Listen, Crocodile, my dream hasn't gone away. I can't stand it anymore."
"A promise is a promise. I've been finding so much food that I'd almost forgotten my dream. You did well to come and remind me of it, Lad. Do you want to set off right now, across the sea?"
"That's the only thing I want, Crocodile."
"Then me too. Let's be off."
They were both delighted with the arrangement.

The lad settled himself on the crocodile's back, as if in a canoe, and they set off out to sea.It was all so big and so beautiful! What astonished them most was the open space, the size of the vista that stretched away before and above them, endlessly. Day and night, night and day, they never rested. They saw islands big and small, with trees and mountains and clouds. They could not say which was more beautiful, the days or the nights, the islands or the stars. They went on and on, always following the sun, until the crocodile finally grew tired. "Listen, lad. I can't go on. My dream is over."
"Mine will never be over.."

The lad was still speaking when the crocodile suddenly grew and grew on size until, still keeping its original shape, he turned into an island covered with hills, woods and rivers.And that is why Timor is the shape of a crocodile.

Taken from Fernando Sylvan's Cantolenda Maubere.

http://www.uc.pt/timor/croc2.htm

29 June 2007 - The lull....

The lull....

Things are relatively quiet on the election front. The past 2 days have been declared "quiet days" free of any electioneering so I am not sure whether that means it's the lull before the storm, or that people need 2 days to render them docile enough to vote.

I went out of Dili today. We took the coastal road to the little town of Tibar - probably the distance of Sea Point from the city centre of Cape Town. Heading west this time - if we carried on we would eventually get to the Indonesian border. I was amazed again by the beauty of the coastline and the beaches. Judge for yourself....
I think I will come back here on Sunday for a dip in the ocean away from the other internationals.

30 June 2007 - A bubble economy....

A bubble economy....

Life in Dili, economically anyway, is a little skewed.

A can of Coke costs about US$0.60 (ZAR4.20) in the supermarket and US$1.50 (ZAR10,50) in a restaurant/cafe. I've paid US$6.50 (ZAR42.00) for a kebab wrap at the Turkish restaurant I gushed on about before and US10.00 (ZAR70.00) for breakfast at the 4-star Hotel Timor. Two nights ago a small pizza at an Australian-owned bar cost me US$6.00 (ZAR42) while a large would have set me back US$12.00 (ZAR85)!! It made me wish for Debonairs' variety. On the other hand I have also been able to get a fish curry on seafood fried rice for about US$4.00 (ZAR28.00).

Electronic goods are either on par or even slightly more expensive than what I would pay back home. Although the variety is wider here I suspect.

DVDs are cheap. At US$1.00 - 1.50 (ZAR 7.00-10.00) each, I have augmented my collection considerably. Everything from the latest box-office releases to some classics and a whole bunch of art movies are on offer. It's also a good way to while away the time after hours when you are stuck in your airconditioned container behind a high fence and army patrols on the street.

However, accomodation costs are just laughable. My driver admitted to paying about US$30 (ZAR210) a month in rent for his house. I'm paying US$30.00 (ZAR210) per day!!! For my little cubicle!! Do the math over 28 days.....

But that is a function of the artificial UN economy at play at the moment. Because of the number of internationals on this little island, waving UN dollars, the cost of everything has gone up. Last time I was here I looked sufficiently Timorese that I could pay the local rate for lunch (US$1.20) ... until I opened my mouth... Then the price trebled.

The unofficial minimum wage is around US$85 per month; the receptionist at the Hotel is paid US$4.00 per day so earns around US$100-115 per month. If she takes a taxi cab to and from work every day, half of her wage would go to pay for transport.

28 June 2007 - Some more pix

27 June 2007 - Wednesday - Things are hotting up..

Hotting up... In the final push towards Saturday's elections, the electioneering campaigns are ramping up. Everywhere truckloads of supporters are loudly waving flags - some as young as 4 years old - from trucks festooned in party colours. The air is largely festive - more party than political - although the heavy presence of the UN and local police forces following the political revellers is a reminder that in this country things can go awry quite quickly.

26 June 2007 - Tuesday - Dili under seige

Under siege.....

As I rounded the corner from the beach road at Punta Kelapa, my first thought was "Timor has fallen!", then "Dili is under siege!" and finally "The army has staged a coup!" Because the road in front of the government palace was swarming with army personnel and vehicles. And then I realised that I had been affected by the siege and crisis mentality of having so many security agencies around. Actually what was happening was that the army was on parade and was receiving its newly-designed uniform. I calmed down when I saw the blue marquee erected in front of the government building. It would be a group of very stylish coup leaders who go to that much trouble when they take over the country!!!

24 June 2007 - Sunday - Dancing in a sauna.....

Dancing in a sauna.....

A good day today. Some work, some rest time and a morning that started with an aikido class at the university.

I've really missed the ebb and flow, the centredness that comes from my training. Last week a political rally at the university scuppered my plans to train; next Saturday it'll be elections so I will have to find some other distraction. But I have promised the group that I would be there next Sunday.

The training posed several challenges - the language barrier and the heat not the least of them. Boy was the heat a factor! Within minutes, any movement caused rivulets of sweat to careen down my body. Mopping my brow just encouraged more drops to burst forth. Grasping anyone became a slick challenge.

However, focusing on just 3 techniques, we were able to explore ideas of posture, attitude and the relaxed strength that comes from deep within, kokyu rokyu. At the end of the class, the students, 6 of them, all wanted me to give them notes to the lesson! What a novel idea! So that they could study at home. It felt really good to have my instruction so appreciated. First thing though will be to give them some stretching homework!

The joy of aikido training (especially on a proper tatami, mats made of covered rice husks) is hard to put over in words. Unless you have stepped on the mat and have tasted the sensation of being in complete harmony with your partner, of the clarity of understanding what they are wanting to do, of accepting that and yet being open enough to want to show them a different way or outcome and not clash with them, it is hard to understand. Dancing probably comes closest to that sense of togetherness, as flowing and as beautiful. Feeling the rough edges, the resistances and working with and around them, until you are one for that split second.

Like an oyster producing a pearl from a single grain of sand...

23 June 2007 Breaking through...

Breaking through....

My presentation at the second workshop seems to have been a success. Participants seemed completely happy with the explanation of Boutros Boutros-Ghali's Agenda for Peace and the systems approach to conflict transformation, human rights and development work proposed by Michelle Parlevliet and myself. Even Uli, a development expert of 30 years standing seemed enamoured with the notion.

Tonight I am breaking my habit of the past week or so and am trying a new eatery - a Turkish place. So tonight I am dining off Kurdish kelims, listening to music from Kappadokia and munching through a chicken kebab in a wrap. Posters of Turkey jostle for wall space with posters of Timor Leste. There is though a map of Turkey that provides useful tourist information about "camping en Turquie" and "camping in der Tuerkei"!

The food is yummy!! Doner Kebab gets my approval and I will definitely be back over the next two weeks that remain. Now, as I am sipping an apple tea, feeling Saturday wind down to a close, I think of how quickly the past 2 weeks have flown by. Thinking of my loved ones back home. This trip has meant that I have missed Father's day, my brother's birthday and that I will miss that of my mom. I've missed Camilla's and Penny's birthdays too. Ah well, I have a lot of making up to do.

The electricity has been rather iffy and erratic. My companions in this restaurant are some almost translucent geckos that traverse the ceiling like multiple Spidermen (Spidermans??) jousting with each other to get close to the light. Their cousins keep me company at the office.

22 June 2007 - Friday -A stormy night....

A stormy night....

This is meant to be the dry season. Everything's been dusty and hot - more like a desert than a tropical island really. And then last night came a torrential downpour. Wave after wave. Huge drops falling straight down, plop-plop-plop... then rat-a-tat-tat.. the sound magnified on the corrugated roof of my container. It sounded just like Cape Town must do now. Without the wind though. And with the ambient temperature in the high 20s.

This morning I was awoken by the sounds of the last ripple of the storm as it departed, depositing one last shower on us mortals, steaming everything up, causing the leaves to glisten and washing away the pollution...

Another full day. Writing up my report now that the workshop is over and drawing out the lessons. Trying to project into the future what the foci should be. But these tools, these frameworks we use are so foreign to the experience of the people here that it feels like a constant battle against paternalism. These answers are within them. How often have I not been pleasantly surprised at the depth of understanding of even unsophisticated rural or township folk who have no tertiary education, but have been schooled in "Life" and have learnt those lessons well?

Our challenge is to find the right language - the right lingua france - to bridge the divide and to facilitate understanding - theirs and ours. Too often our frameworks, our handy PowerPoint presentations, our paradigms and diagrams are so sterile and so far removed from the reality; they serve rather to obfuscate than to elucidate or illuminate.

21 June 2007 - Thursday - Dili, Timor Leste

Jesus in a haze of glory....

My morning drive along the road at Punta Kelapa caused me to remark on a new development - the number of people wearing face masks against the ever-more visible air pollution levels in the city. I've seen lots of little fires of rubbish and underbrush over the past week or so. That combined with the daily splutterings of the old rattletraps and the copious emissions from the innumerable SUVs all add up to make quite a toxic soup. And as I glance across the bay, no doubt the Christ figure is spluttering his lungs out, his arms outstretched crying "Eli, eli lama sabachtani (my lord, my lord why hast thou forsaken me?)"

The election fever is gaining momentum. Everywhere colourful flags of the different parties are flapping, posters making impossible promises shout from every second lamp post, every other wall. Areas of influence and support are clearly delineated by the identity of the party whose flags are flying. I even saw one poster imaging a future for Dili filled with skyscrapers, glinting and gleaming metal and glass superstructures heralding an island-state plugged into the big bad world. Maybe that party should not win?

20 June 2007 -Wednesday - Dili, Timor Leste

The Goldilocks effect....

Back at my daily stop - the Tandoori Indian restaurant - where I'm slowly, slowly working my way through the menu. Today was a good day with 3 interviews looking at the possibility & the shape of a longer-term intervention. I met with an employment expert from the ILO, the Secretary of State for Youth & Sport and someone from the Labour Ministry.

The meeting with the ILO representative was really interesting given my interest in labour matters. It has struck me that with the surfeit of international agencies around here that there is a lot of technical assistance here. The problem is that some of that assistance is almost over concentrated in certain areas, and severely lacking in other equally needy areas. The Labour department has several agencies helping it; the Secretariat of State for Youth & Sport was crying for assistance. So either nothing happens because you have too little assistance - or because you have too much!

The goldilocks principle will have to be written into any long-term project proposal. Like so many things in life, we have to get things "just right"!

19 June 2007 - Tuesday - Love for Rent

Love for Rent...

Something that I've noticed more of is the number of young girls who accompany the many foreign men in the city. It seems that while in this very Catholic country, sex workers on the streets are a rarity, hiring a 15 or 17-year old girl as a "personal assistant" for $250 per month is more commonplace. So love is not for sale, but can be available on long lease...

Sex work is obviously 'the oldest profession', and also an easy option in a country where earning enough money to survive is an issue for most people. Even in countries where the situation is not as dire, more and more young girls are turning to selling sexual favours as a way of making a few bucks. In townships on the Cape Flats, many girls are having sex with sugar daddies in exchange for expensive 'gifts' like cellphones and designer labels. In Japan, the stereotypical image of the grey-haired, grey-suited salaryman paying schoolgirls for their white cotton panties after they have worn them, has crept into popular culture.

So why should Timor-Leste be any different?

Except with no contraception and one of the highest birth and morbidity rates in the world, it poses a particularly dire social problem. The average family size is between 8 and 12 children! And one has to remember that this is an island!!!

18 June 2007 - Monday - Dili, East Timor

A new week beckons....

The start of my second week in Dili. Also the second day of my workshop with the Martial Arts Groups which has proceeded relatively slowly because, as always with these processes, the landscape keeps on changing. New people come in, those who were there before and who knew about the previous process are no longer available and so the wheel turns - squeaking as it does - and the frustration at the slow rate of change and progress mounts.

For me too the challenge is not to become too frustrated. I have to remember and remind myself to trust the process, that I must not hold fast to what I think the outcome should be. I I become an outcomes advocate, I might fall into the same trap that many of the international experts around have - that I know better. I just know different.

Of course I am not a mediator in this situation. Actually I am playing more of a developmental activist role so I should have some idea of a possible outcome. But I think imposing my ideas too strongly runs the risk of quashing homegrown, more appropriate solutions bubbling up.

...

It's after dark now. I'm sitting at the little Indian Tandoori restaurant that has become my nightly stop on my way back to my container. For some seafood fried rice tonight. Although the mutton biryani of Saturday and the chicken korma last night were as close to a taste of home as I'm likely to get here.

Time is flying though... I hope I will have sufficient time to finish the task at hand - while attending to what needs attention back home. This time round I feel so far away. So much has changed... And still I have a sense of stuckness.

Being stuck is not necessarily a bad thing - it often presages a shift, gaining clarity or new insights - unless one succumbs to the quicksand.....

On the TV in the corner of the restaurant a couple dressed in brilliant white and an even brighter fuschia are singing in falsetto voices declaring their love for one another. A white suit can only be worn by a man in a Bollywood video!

Now there's another video in which a very pretty girl is flying through the air into a tree where her lover awaits. Amazing how Indian singers and dancers can pack so much meaning in just one langorous glance...

Ah! there's my food. Now to attend to my more fundamental human needs :-)

17 June 2007 - Sunday - Dili, East Timor

A hot Sundae...

This morning started out a little disappointing when I arrived at the University Sports facility to be told that there would be no Aikido training this morning and that I should come back next week Saturday and Sunday.

But it brightened up considerably when I decided to take myself for a Thai massage at a newly-opened parlour. Called Sawasdee ("welcome" in Thai) it was an amazing experience! Simple, little touches like the little slippers for your feet, the warm foot bath with aromatic oils and the oversized, stone-coloured one-size-fits-all pyjamas you have to change into in your cordoned off sections with the gentle Thai music in the background; all of these add up to putting one at ease. Less is more, for sure.

Thai massage is similar to the shiatsu that I know. It works similarly on meridians (called sen lines) running across the body. But I found it more 3-dimensional than the way I was taught shiatsu. While both systems apply pressure in different ways to different points on the body, Thai massage also throws in simultaneous stretches of the limbs to make the experience that much more intense! It felt really good for my muscles to get such a good workout and for the pockets of tension at least to be identified!! In the end when I was waiting to pay the US$28 for my hour of reconstruction, I was invited to take part in a lucky dip. I drew a free kiss! I wasn't sure who the winner would be - the masseuse or me- so we settled on a free bar of soap so that the aromatic experience could continue even after I left.

All in all I left the parlour a much happier person. With the intention to include a visit to Sawasdee in my weekly schedule. Kop Khun Kap!!!

And later I took myself down to Pasir Putih, the White Sands beach, to float in the warm waters watched over by the Christ statue and to allow my cares to float off into that great expanse of water, to feel supported, unjudged, accepted by the sea's salty arms and to revel in the lapping of the waves, the shrieks of the children and the taste of the salt on my skin... There truly is something divine in the restorative power of the sea. Growing up in a coastal city, a visdorpie, it is easy to take the presence of the sea for granted. But stay away from it for any great length of time and you do start to get withdrawal symptoms.What a nice end to my weekend.....

16 June 2007 - Saturday - Dili, Timor Leste

Youth Day?

Today is National Youth Day in South Africa. A day that at once commemorates one of the darkest days in our recent history - the massacre at Sharpeville in 1976, and celebrates the potential of the young people of our country. Many young people were killed on that fateful day in a protest over being forced to learn the language of the oppressor - Afrikaans, while their own language(s) were disregarded. That event was a focal point for resistance efforts against the apartheid regime; it focussed the international spotlight on the country and its internal dynamics and was one step on the long road to liberation.

The situation in Timor Leste is somewhat different. They have their political liberation. However, they also have an official language policy that excludes most of the population. Portuguese, the language of a colonial power for many years, is the official language of government. Less than 25% of the population speak any Portuguese; any prospect of a key government position requires it, also in industries like telecommunications or oil. So the lack of language ability (read: being able to speak Portuguese) shuts the door to many opportunities for many Timorese. Young Timorese, frustrated by the lack of opportunities, either build up resentment if they remain, or otherwise seek their fortunes outside the country. This latter group consists largely of the more skilled group of young people who have had access to a higher level of education. That brain drain can also not be good for the country.

So how the needs of the youth are dealt with over the medium- to long-term will determine too whether this island is a powder-keg ready to explode, or a tropical paradise that is a home for all.

15 June 2007 - Friday - Dili, Timor Leste

Talking through a veil of secrecy...

I awoke from my first mosquito-free night. I finally got the Doom Mosquito Killer to work. I needed a South African adapter which they don't have here in Timor Leste. Macgyver to the rescue and I have a working mosquito killer. There seem to be more mosquitoes this time round in the dry hot season than there were in the wet-to-damp hot season on my earlier trip!

Anyway, I discovered today that much of the communication in Tetum consists of playing your cards close to your chest... For instance: if i meet you along the road, weighed down with grocery bags on your way home, and I ask you "Where are you going?", you are more than likely to answer "To the market" - the place from whence you are coming!!! Theoretically, if you were to tell me that you are heading home, you might put yourself in some sort of danger. Better to tell you something you already know - that I have been to the supermarket.

That would explain why it was so hard to get some of the participants to envision a future. The future is uncertain, unknown, unpredictable and dangerous. Better to spend time on what we know - the past.

There is also no word for "thank you" in Tetum. Timorese use the words "obrigado barak" borrowed in part from Portuguese and Bahasa to denote a very modern notion to them - thanking someone. That doesn't mean that they are an unappreciative people, just that the culture of reciprocity expects one to help out a fellow human being in need - so there is no need to thank someone for their assistance.

Another interesting thing is that there is no indigenous word for "welcome"! In one of the dialects the words "you are here" said in a slightly surprised tone of voice double up as a greeting. Even such things as "good morning", "good day" etc are recent acquisitions. "Bom dia" (or the Tetum neologism "loron diak") for "good day" have only relatively recently crept into the day-to-day interactions among people. And still the phrase "loron diak" is not commonly used, indicating that the need for greeting is still viewed a little as a Western construct.

14 June 2007 -Thursday - Dili East Timor

Up the coast.....

I woke up this morning feeling very far away from everything and everyone I love. Today is Camilla's birthday and I won't be there to help her celebrate it. I haven't been able to train my aikido, so I'm feeling all sluggish. And the cats here are all mangy and underfed - not like mine back home.

I guess today I really am just missing home very much. The preparations for this weekend's workshop are coming along fine, and it will be interesting to see how the politics of the day play themselves out in that setting.

I was meant to go to scout out a venue in Maubere, a little out of town and along the coast, but no such luck I'm afraid.. Nose to the grindstone..

13 June 2007, Dili, Timor Leste

A new day...

I saw my first accident today. And my second. And my third. All in one day. After having been told that they do occur, but seeing very little evidence of them, today I saw three. All involving scooters. And that is surprising given how recklessly everyone seems to drive - but it is a collective recklessness with a common set of rules so very few people get hurt. Although in a crash-up between a scooter and a car the scooter will always come off second best.

But it also seemed to be the highlight of the UN Police's day. They screamed to the crash scene, sirens blaring, blue lights twirling to deal with the crisis - 'cos that's their mandate. :-)

Ah well another day in Dili.....

10 June 2007 - Sunday - Dili, Timor Leste

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose....

This has really been the first moment to sit and think since arriving back in Dili on Friday. It's amazing how much can change in a short time and still remain the same.

Since the last time I was here, the Presidential race has been determined. José Ramos-Horta, the former Prime Minister and Nobel Peace Laureate, swopped his powerful position as Head of Government for the largely ceremonial post of Head of State. As Head of Government though it is questionable how much real influence he could have as an independent politician overseeing a parliament made up of the major party, FREITILIN.

It is speculated that the former President, Xanana Gusmao, will take the position of Prime Minister if his party, the opposition CNRT, win at the polls at the end of June. If that happens, then these two men will have effectively swopped jobs. More interesting though will be how the rest of the Cabinet is constructed. Right now, no one knows so everything is in limbo. And that has implications for our project this month. It will be hard to get anyone to commit to anything I think. Also as the time for the election grows nearer, I think the jostling for position will become greater with possibly more tension - Right now things feel calm.

Both Ramos-Horta and Gusmao are former liberation fighters and leaders, both belonged to the resistance front, FREITILIN, which was a broad church that united many different interests. Both have since left that movement to set up shop in a broad coalition called the CNRT. This highlights the level of political in-fighting - often very public. It seems among former liberation/struggle cadres, the worst insult one can level at an opponent is that s/he is "socialist" or even worse still a "communist"! Back home cadres from the SA Communist Party or the trades union are accused of being "ultra-leftist" or even "counter-revolutionary".

Oh the joys of political double-speak!

07 June 2007 -Thursday - Singapore

Changing elements..

It's 05h15 in the morning and we are preparing to touch down at Changi Airport in Singapore. Sipping over the waters, landing gear extended like the feet of a giant bird, the momentary lull as the plane readies itself for touchdown, then almost a sigh as we connect with terra firma again, leaving behind the freedom of flight for the solidity of the earth.. changing elements... 27 degrees outside.. at 05h15 in the morning! Very different to the 8 degrees of Cape Town at the same time. Now for a 4 hour wait before I take to the skies again for Bali this time.

As we taxi to the terminal building I realise that the runway runs over a major highway - not just the flight-path but the runway!

07 June 2007 -Thursdy - Denpasar, Bali

Supper time..

I made it to Bali safely. Back at the Puri Kelapa Hotel I stayed at on the last trip here. Today was steaming! Now sitting here at Pappions restaurant at 19h04, I know I am in the tropics just shy of the equator. I'm tired, but more importantly, I'm hungry. So tonight I'm sampling the tuna steak in Bali.

It seems even more busy than the last time. I'm told the local school holidays are taking place but I've also seen a lot more tourists - especially surfers - around.

One t-shirt at a local stand proudly proclaimed "Osama don't surf" while another suggested that one "F*ck a terrorist" as a way of reducing the threat perhaps. Clearly the memory of the Bali bombing by the radical Jaamiyat Islamiyya in 2002 is still close to the surface.

The Hindutva or Hindu-ness of the island is very evident. The facade of many buildings is adorned with scenes from the epic tale, the Ramayana. All sorts of mythical creatures -some humanoid, others not at all - baring very sharp fangs as they guard their portals to an inner sanctuary.

Now as I sit quietly sipping my soto ayam - a yummy spicy chicken and egg soup - I wonder which came first and why the chicken wanted so desperately to cross the road. And I recall the article in the Straits Times that Singapore has banned poultry imports from Indonesia because of a confirmed outbreak of avian flu. Nonetheless the soto ayam was delicious, the tuna steak a little more oily than I am used to; but filling nonetheless - and tropical. On my next trip to Bali I will rent a scooter (About R50/50,000Rps). Already I saw more of Bali on my 2 km walk to the shopping centre earlier today.

06 June 2007, Cape Town, South Africa

Leaving on a jet plane.... again

Departing from Cape Town, this time directly en route to Singapore, then on to Denpasar, Bali and finally on to Dili in East Timor - or more properly, Timor Leste.

This time I am going for longer than before - 4 weeks instead of 2. Hopefully that means that the work will not be as pressured and as stressful as the last time and that I will be able to set my own pace, including a bit more leisure time.

It's a grey, miserable typical winter's day in Cape Town, but here high above the clouds a mere half hour out of Cape Town the sun is shining brightly as we hug the eastern coastline of the country, the warm Indian ocean beckoning. Most of this flight will be over that vast expanse of water...

My assignment this time is to take further the research work I did with the martial arts groups in Timor Leste. In Dili, the capital there are easily 15 different groups practicing; in the country as a whole there are between 20,000 and 90,000 people practicing some or other form of martial art. But that statement also has to be qualified.. The number is probably somewhere in the middle of those two estimates. Also the martial arts groups include well-known martial arts such as karate, taekwondo, kung fu, my own aikido and shorinji-kempo. There are some Indonesian pentak silat styles. And then there are some undefinable Timorese martial arts styles - some of which are more correctly called ritual arts because they practice not fighting style but choose rather to rely on invoking some higher power for protection (through an amulet or a bandana). However they are inspired some of these groups have been involved in inter-group violence that is multi-layered and complex and represent the machinations of the Timorese society as it tries to find its feet as the worlds newest nation state after years of external oppression and domination.

12 June 2007 - Tuesday - Dili, Timor Leste

The air is fresh up here....

I've been in Dili already for 4 days and already my time has been completely absorbed with the administration - work-plans, forms to fill out, formats to be adhered to... On and on! Necessary, but not my preferred way to spend my time.

So when the chance to get out of Dili to checkout a venue for the upcoming workshops presented itself, I grabbed it.

The road to Daré took us up the steep mountains that surround this little city. At the city limits a huge market selling everything from vegetables and livestock to 2nd hand GAP clothing was bustling with people. Other people were putting up the flags of the political party they support.. Here FREITILIN (the current party in power) holds sway, there it is CNRT (the largest opposition party), over here some PD (the Democratic Party) supporters stake their claim. It's interesting how the same names get recycled all over the world - National Party, Democratic Party, Christian Democrats etc - but can have hugely distinct platforms across the globe.

Leaving the city limits behind, the hubbub dies away and the road although on a steep gradient is at least tarred. It snakes around the mountain cutting a swathe through the trees, doubling back on itself like the coils of some giant python wrapped around the crocodile that is Timor Leste.

Unfortunately we ran out of road before we got to our destination! So in addition to being steep, the road - now barely a dirt track in places - became quite rocky and slippery.. Onwards and upwards, always upwards. Even with 4WD the little station-wagon we were in groaned every foot of the way.

But boy is the air fresh up here! Catching glimpses of the the city dropping below us as we climb ever higher, the horizon stretching on and on, little puffs of smoke from a myriad fires rise up lazily. It's easy to believe you are on top of the world.

We get to one venue, a Catholic retreat, nestled in the mountains that has an atmosphere of such serenity that my ears hurt at the silence. Quiet contemplation would be very possible in this setting... Although they are fully booked until the beginning of September.

So back into the car we get, my kidneys getting a serious workout as we bump and jiggle our way up the rutted track, take a wrong turn and have to retrace our steps... I am seriously beginning to doubt Fidelis' ability to tell time - he had promised that Daré was only 15 minutes away... It's been nearly 2 hours already.

Eventually we get to the second place - well that is a bit of a misdirection... we still had to hike to the venue. Only 5 minutes... Until Fidelis realised that the last time he had done this trip, he had done it on his bike!

Nevertheless the trek through the canopy of trees in the mountains was pure elixir to my soul. The venue, also unavailable for all the dates we required, was a gem. Thatch-roofed cottages and conference hall, up against the slopes of the mountain, surrounded by even higher peaks. A lush mountain side with tall trees and twittering birds. As I sat drinking in the natural beauty, two black and yellow butterflies came dancing around me - large and light like angels - and life was good.. all my cares were far away...

The trek back to the car - uphill this time - was done in silence as we negotiated the 30 degree incline! The journey back was done with a lightened heart to know that East Timor is so much more than Dili!

Monday 30 April 2007, Cape Town, South Africa

Back home...

The swish of the doors as they part
to reveal
You

Waiting.

Is that anticipation I see in your eyes?
As they scan the crowded airport hall?

Our eyes lock.
Recognition. Relief. Reanimation
In that instant all thought of time and

distance falls away.

Separation but a fleeting memory.
Connection re-established.
A better connection?

My heart opens up as you flood into
me.
Occupy the spaces in between.
Touch the core, embrace my secret, scared spot
and hold it, soft as a butterfly.

I am home

Sunday 29 April 2007 Dili, Denpasar, Singapore, Home

Waiting....

After the mad rush of the last 2 weeks, I'm finally in the airport "lounge" heading home. And again the plane is delayed due to 'rotational reasons'. Sushma left yesterday; her plane was also scheduled to leave at 13h30 only to leave at 16h00. Like mine is looking to do today. I wonder if she made her connecting flight? It's 15h11 and the screen still promises me that my flight MZ8490 to Denpasar will depart at 14h00!

At least I fly out of Bali at 20h00 (22h00 here) so there are some hours between arriving and leaving. It feels weird that my assignment is over - sure there's still some writing and collaboration to do, but essentially my part is done. And maybe I'll be back. Who knows?

I leave this little island of about 1 million inhabitants touched, moved and changed by how similar some things are to my home and how vastly different others are. The people of Timor-Leste, of Timor-Lorosa'e (where the sun rises) are still a mystery to me. And that's not just the veil of the language barrier. I'm not sure outsiders ever fully understand them. Their legends even proudly speak of how impenetrable the mysteries of their forests, the internal forests, are. On the one hand they are warm, inviting, friendly and welcoming; on the other swift to anger, ready to fight. Yet in the face of great hardship and deprivation, accepting of their fate.

This island, in truth I've only been exposed to this city, whose surface I have barely scratched with my little study holds so much promise if only... if only what? If only the spark to fire the engine can be found...

Leaving Dili.....

An empty window seat in my row meant that I got a front-row seat to the unfolding majesty of the world that dropped below me. From my vantage point high up in the sky even Timor-Leste looks idyllic - finally. It's clearly untouched in many places. As we fly over the Indonesian archipelago, island after island just screams to be in a tourist brochure. Verdant mountains, a ring of white sandy beaches, warm shallows clearly delineated and encircled by living coral reefs before the turquoise, the azure and the aquamarine vie with one another for my attention. Some of the islands look like gigantic stepping stones from one paradise to another right where I would have put them if I had been the landscaper.

Now the seatbelt sign has come back on again as we hit some turbulence caused by the puffy white clouds down below. As we bank to our right, the island below seems a bit more built up, more populated. As far as the eye can see though up here, the sky is populated by puffy white clouds now moving slowly in unison at a tropical pace.

Another bank to the right, then a sharp veer to the left and we're on course for Denpasar, Bali. 27 degrees the captain promises. No steamy overnight stay for me this time I'm afraid. I'm looking forward to the gentle warmth of being back in familiar surroundings, with my loved ones and the comfort of ordinary days, seen through new eyes hopefully, felt with renewed vigour and experienced with a new clarity.

Denpasar, Bali....

Arriving at Denpasar, this time in transit, I still believe we should relocate our airport to Blouberg. There's something incredible about seemingly skimming the waves as the plane comes in to land..

Time has gone backwards. It's a strange phenomenon to arrive at a new place at more or less the same time that you left! And who says time is not relative?

Several of my fellow travelers from Dili are speaking heatedly to an airlines official because it seems they have missed their connecting flight. The 2-hour delay in Dili has messed with their plans to be in Kathmandu and other destinations tonight.

In the transit area (lounge is far too intimate a word) the air is heavy with incense; someone is rhythmically beating a wooden chime and a thin metal bell while a flute or a lyre is playing. Indonesia truly is a melting-pot of cultures. Everywhere are the weary faces of travelers in transit, en route to somewhere, en passant from somewhere else.

My luggage is about 18 kgs overweight. I had to ditch the Timorese coffee in Dili unfortunately and some other non-essentials. There they wanted to charge me US$70 extra and eventually settled on US$40 - all the loose money I had on me. Here an airline official informs me that the cost is a prohibitive US$48/kg!!! That would amount to a massive US$864!. But if I pay him under the table I can give him US$400! I finally pay him Rps2,000 000 or about US$210. I feel raped. Again I was taken in by the smile of that pretty airline official who seemed so helpful but failed to give me my US$5 change for the US$20 I gave her for the airport taxes. It's not money that makes the world go round but corruption! This has been an expensive trip!!!!

This transit area is incredible. Row upon row of duty-free shops selling everything from batiks to incense sticks to foot massages. A whole economy to rival the whole of Dili's. In the men's bathroom it is a little disconcerting to watched by a fish swimming lazily around in its tank, all the while staring unblinkingly at you.

There is the call for my flight... I now need to make a great trek to find Gate number 3....

23h50 Changi Airport, Singapore

Made it to Singapore without mishap. Much has changed in the 12 years since I last set foot in this airport. Changi airport has been made even more extensive (and more upmarket) than I remember from my first visit to the Far East. On my flight back from Bangkok then I also flew back via Singapore and I seem to recall that the departure time was fairly similar. Then I had my colleague Ron's big toe peeking through a hole in his sock to contend with while he caught some shut-eye. Thankfully,at least that has changed.

What hasn't changed is the glint in everyone's eye as we wait for the boarding gates to open. It's the glint that is there no matter how tired everyone looks or feels.It's a look that says "I'm going home!!!"

Saturday 28 April 2007 Dili, East Timor

My last night...

My last night in Dili. I can't believe it's almost over. It feels like it's only just begun. Of course there's still a lot of writing to be done. The report needs to be finalised before the end of the week and then my other life awaits.

I guess the one thing that strikes me about this trip is the importance of open communication and of keeping those channels open. In a society where the impulse to either fight or flee isso strong, learning how to flow is going to be a challenge. With the MAGs who are trained in particularly the fight impulse, they need to learn a new way of being. Strong doesn't always mean having the biggest rock or the fastest fists. Nonetheless, the potential for that new way does exist. I would not be doing this if I thought otherwise.

But the other lesson about communication involves the frustration at the difficulties in keeping in touch with my loved ones, keeping the connection alive. Realising how much I take for granted in my life back home.

Two weeks in a container without my gadgets that ensure that I am plugged in have made me realise how much I value the personal touch, the connection, how important that unwritten, unspoken communication is to me....

Friday 27 April 2007, Dili, East Timo

Freedom Day....

Today is Freedom Day back home.

A day to commemorate the first democratic elections in 1994 that involved all the citizens of South Africa. On that day I was a mediator up the West Coast, stationed about 300kms north of Cape Town, in unfamiliar territory in a highly tense, potentially violent situation. With an election looming whose outcome was being predicted, but by no means certain.

A bit like the situation here in DIli today. In just over a week the country goes to the polls for the second time in about a month to decide on the new president. And the tension is mounting and palpable. Even I have been affected by the air of anticipation hanging over the city like a heat cloud. I've been wound up tighter than a guitar string and been snapping at everyone for the past 2 days.

Yesterday, I nearly caused an international incident with a group of women from the IDP (internally displaced people) in the camp next to the Lecidere office. I was beset by a group of the women who weave the traditional tais (woven cloth used as clothes, table cloths etc). Bargaining was an interesting experience with them starting low and moving higher! Eventually when I had agreed on a price for the 3 or 4 pieces and had paid them, one came back and demanded $2 more for one of the pieces. I was in no mood for haggling further, especially not when a burly chap from the camp also weighed in. It ended with me giving back the tais, demanding my money back and him screaming at me to make a sexual departure.. I told him to be more creative in his application of a rolled-up tais!!!

Now, as the reality that I'm leaving is finally sinking in, I can slowly let go.....

Thursday 26 April 2007, Dili, East Timor

Acclimatising....

This place is growing on me. In and among the lack of communication and the potholed streets and the distance from all my creature comforts of home (not to mention my loved ones) this place is growing on me.

And I think it's the potential locked away deep inside the situation. And the possibility of unlocking it, or helping to unlock that potential. And it speaks I guess to the training and the work I have done over many years. But it's also I think about the Don Quixote in me.

Tuesday 24 April 2007, Dili, East Timor

Rumblings....

East Timor is heading into a 2nd round of presidential elections on 9 May 2007 since there was no clear winner in the last round about 3 weeks ago. And yesterday the rumblings started. The Prime Minister, Jose Ramos-Horta, a candidate now for President accused the Minister of Labour, Bano, of having given 30tonnes of rice to the leader of one of the martial arts groups. One of the people I interviewed last week. In a land where there is such food insecurity and deprivation that food convoys have to be protected by the feared Portuguese GNR, rice is a very powerful commodity to buy influence.

Today the newspapers are printing Bano's denial of any wrongdoing. The request came through and was processed as per normal for distribution in the outlying district. Without explaning how come 30 tonnes of the white gold was stacked at the MAG leader's personal home unattended... Maybe to make some nasi goreng?

Anyway the politicking is beginning.. And the manipulation & propoganda machines are starting up. And smack bang in the middle of all of this lie the martial arts gangs. It will be interesting to watch - even from a distance - how they are utilised by the various political parties as they jockey for positions.

Money makes the world go round, and here politics makes it go round faster. The next few weeks will be interesting. I think we'll see an intensification of activities - with the martial arts groups possibly being drawn in on both sides. And then it is the run-up to the June 30th parliamentary elections. So these next week' activities will just be a stepping stone to those elections where much more for many more people will be at stake.

As I left the office today, the sky was a particularly inviting pink. So, while waiting for the driver to arrive I took my (laptop) bag and my camera across the road and started shooting some pictures as is my wont. when I turned around, I found myself half-encircled by about 5 boys in their late teens, a few of them holding sticks in their hands, all very interested either in what I was doing or in my camera. Either way there was a rather hungry look in their eyes. I don't speak Tetum; they clearly didn't speak English. So there was a stand-off. Although I felt that there was some menace in their stance, they also hesitated - and that gave me the opportunity to walk away as Nelson came around the corner with the car. ....

Ah the joys of being an international in a foreign place! Here are a few of the shots I took so you can see why I was so engrossed in the sky...