politics and pretty things

Funny how Timor works. Last week, I told my family over the phone that everything was better here, and that life was returning to normal. A few hours later, word arrived that people were coming into Dili and wanted to destroy everything. So sudden, so bizarre, and those threats have definitely not yet materialized into action. But trying to understand these recent turn of events has proven interesting…

Alfredo Reinaldo was arrested last week. His story is complicated, and I don’t even fully understand it. But from what I have been told, he was part of the military police who several months ago, in the beginning of the recent conflict, aligned himself with the military staff from the east of Timor who were laid-off, and cited discrimination as the main reason for their dismissal. Reinaldo became the head commander for one group of the petitioners who were supposedly involved in battles in the hills north of Dili, in which an unknown (i.e. unreported) number of people where killed.

So, this part of the story is old news; it happened between the end of February and the end of May. But he was only recently detained due to a weapons cache that was discovered in his house. The government and the international forces had declared a deadline for the submission of all weapons in the country, and the weapons in his house were found after this deadline had passed. The Portuguese GNR (Guarde Nationale de la Republica?) were sent to arrest him, and he now is locked up down the street from our office in the Ministry of Justice.

Many people in Timor have been angered by his detention, hence the recent call for protests. Although they haven’t really materialized, I’ve noticed that all movements of people seem to take several days in this country… for example, a protest called for Monday might actually have people en mass by Thursday. So, it might happen yet.

But, the interesting part is trying to understand why people are so upset. From our experiences with a democracy, we expect that when people are arrested, they subsequently go to trial, and either will be acquitted or proven guilty. Despite many flaws in the system, we accept that justice is partly a matter of time.

Here, people too talk about justice justice justice. The concept is particularly significant because there is an overarching sense that justice was never served for the serious crimes that took place in Timor under Indonesian occupation. Yet, people are furious that Reinaldo has been arrested, and instead of accepting the verdict reached by any court process, have called for his immediate release. Even Timorese I’ve spoken with who don’t personally have an opinion about Reinaldo’s arrest would like him to be freed, if only to prevent more protests and possible violence.

Apparently, people are angry that he was arrested so quickly, while the previous Prime Minister, Mari Alkatiri, who is suspected to be involved in illegally arming people involved with murders of Police in Dili in May, is free and has not yet be charged with any crime. You must remember, too, that there is still an underlying connection with regional tensions, as Reinaldo was supporting Easterners while Alkatiri was mainly supported by Westerners. But, rather than calling for an international investigation of Alkatiri, people want Reinaldo freed? This kind of reasoning, this logic, is honestly lost on Malae.

And the claim that people want to destroy Dili? What would this prove, and how does it help, especially given that over 400 homes were burned in Dili over the past few months and the city is already in desperate need of improvement? This too, we cannot understand. It does not make any sense to us.

It seems that we – Timor versus the Western world – have a different interpretation of what we mean by justice. Fine.

But I think people here have not yet agreed on what they mean by justice, either.

It’s a huge and complicated problem.

But, on the more positive side, the only art school in Dili has filled the city with beautiful hand-painted banners about peace and unity. At least some things are always hopeful.

Tasi Feto Tasi Mane literally translates to Man Sea and Woman Sea, but it means north and south. Timor Ida Deit, Timor is united.


Paz Dame, peace in Portuguese and Tetum

Dili's new monorail??

Had a little “girs’ night in” dinner the other night, a quasi housewarming slash reason to fully unpack and decorate party. Some one noted that the city has been rather bustling the past few days, which is a good change from recent weeks of an eerie silence during the days. Now, with more people and cars on the roads, the streets are back to the usual mess of crazy traffic. You see, driving here is absolutely unbelievable…

Motorbikes with full families of four (often with no helmets!) and mikrolets (mini buses) with people hanging out the doors, get stuck driving 20 kilometers an hour behind a taxi. And I’m serious. I’ve clocked that speed. Taxis in Timor are notoriously slow! Then all the white 4x4 international organization vehicles get impatient and pass on two-lane streets into the slow moving, though still oncoming, traffic. And every two blocks or so, all traffic grinds to a halt so drivers can attempt to navigate the crater-sized potholes.

Thus, we arrived somehow at the topic of envisioning a monorail system in Dili. And it was so funny, I felt like a schoolgirl with wine that nearly made it up my nose and not a glass of milk.

So, firstly, you must remember that this country is incredibly poor and the government is incredibly stressed. The idea of any infrastructure project being completed – and completed well – is laughable in itself. Now, consider that everywhere you go in Dili, you see remnants of destruction: some buildings are simply old and crumbling, others show burn marks from the recent conflict, and even more have been left trashed from the Indonesian occupation. A monorail traveling through the city’s neighbourhoods, looking all shiny and new and high-tech, would be so unimaginably out of place…

…except, it would never be shiny, because Dili is either dry and dusty in the aptly named dry season, or muddy in the rainy season. There definitely couldn’t be any windows because of the inevitable problems stemming from the big sticks that people use to transport their goods. Some poor boy would turn around to offer his tangerines, lettuce, or fish to a fellow passenger and smash, there goes another window! There would also have to be rule forbidding animals aboard, even though it will be very difficult to enforce. But trust me, pigs, goats, and chickens in close quarters with people can be messy.

To make it better, the little voice that provides instructions and announces all upcoming stops would have to be multilingual… in at least four languages! It’s actually a highly political problem in Timor. Tetum is the most widely known and spoken national language, but Indonesian is apparently still used. However, Portugal managed to ensure that Portuguese be declared the country’s official language, even though only the old elite (like the president and his colleagues) and elementary school children have been educated in Portuguese. Portugal would definitely throw a fit if the new monorail system did not cater to Dili’s lusophone community. And of course, since most of the international development community is English speaking – and remain totally incensed that the government spends a fortune on “necessary” Portuguese translations – the monorail would be considered too pretentious without English.

Our monorail conclusion? It’s a ridiculous idea, overall, and made us all laugh like crazy.

And now in hindsight, I can’t decide whether it’s still funny, or just really sad...

photos and a to do list

Well, no need to have worried: I recovered my passport today, complete with a brand new visa. The extension expires on August 17th, three days after my flight to Darwin. This three week countdown has really forced me to consider what I what to do in Timor before I leave, and also what out of that list is realistic.

I suppose the first thing I should really consider is work… Lest it sound too cheesy, the past month has been a whirlwind of activity… The Ba Futuru staff were already conducting “Child Protection” assessments in Dili’s IDP camps for UNICEF when I arrived, which involved repeatedly touring several local temporary camps, setting up camp child protection focal points (usually some one living in the camps who volunteered to coordinate all child-related activities and services), conducting surveys to gage the number of minor residents, and ensuring that facilities were “child-friendly”.

While this was going on, we were promised funding to start doing educational programming in some of the camps, and had to write up a proper training manual for the project. Many long hours and full days at the design and copy shop later, the guides are now printed (in both English and Tetum) and beautiful! There are eight lessons in total with subjects including: human and child rights (and corresponding responsibilities); basic conflict resolution skills; trauma healing; anger management; and envisioning a peaceful future…. The lessons are fairly short, flexible, and generally active since the camps have many distractions and the kids there have short attentions spans. The staff here in Dili are working at two different IDP camps, called Motael Church and Bidau Orphanage, and our staff in the districts are working in three camps. Everyone returns to the office every afternoon totally exhausted, but the work seems to be going really well.

And, amazingly, many formal proposals and several weeks later, the promised money came through! We went to the bank on Friday with over $35,000 in cheques from various donor organizations, and the tellers were saying parabens, congratulations! It was great!

In the time in between the program guide editing and printing and proposal writing and site visits and Child Protection meetings and banking, I’ve been trying to edit and re-write sections of a manual on non-violent discipline for teachers and child care workers in Timor. That phase is fairly close to being finished, but the full plan is to write a corresponding training, and then facilitate the completed program with the staff so that they will be able to conduct the trainings themselves in the future. So… three weeks to organize a two-day training, and then two days to model the program.

No problem, right?

☺

Also on my list of countdown things to do is travel outside of Dili! There is so much of the country that I’d like to see, but the situasaun during the past two or three months has made travelling very difficult… roads were frequently closed, and there was always a fear that you would get stranded, unable to get back into Dili… But now that things are quieter, people are moving regularly, and even some of the buses out to the districts are running, there are definitely a few places that I’d like to explore.

Unfortunately, it will be difficult to go far, mainly because I don’t have my own transport and wouldn’t travel without a (preferably Tetun-speaking) companion. For instance, I don’t know that I’ll make it out to Jaco Island, a place over 6 hours’ drive from Dili, on the very East of Timor… it’s supposed to be spectacular… entirely made of fine white sand, and reachable only by a short trip across from the mainland in a local boat. Alas, that will have to be for next time. But, I do hope to get to Ata’uru, a large island directly across the water from Dili. Most people take a ferry there (which takes 2-3 hours), spend the night in Timor’s only Eco Village, and return home the next day with some snorkelling in between. Wish me luck finding some other people who feel ready for a couple of relaxing days out of the city…

Also on the list of things to do is to visit the tais market, to buy some traditional Timorese weavings. And it would be good to take some more photos of Dili… since no one really walks anywhere ever (for security reasons at first, and now just because it’s rather uncomfortable being the only white woman on the streets), I haven’t had many opportunities to play tourist in town with my camera!

So… it’s not an outrageous list. Wish me luck!


Bidau IDP Camp

Balloons at Bidau

Youth at Motael, discussing our rules

Motael

Motael kids, 0-5 years old

Youth at Bidau

harvesting timorese coffee...

From the streets of Dili straight to your next cup of Starbucks!

view from the balcony

view from the balcony, originally uploaded by melissaintimor.

I just got back from the Ministry of the Interior, where I applied for a new visa. They come in one-month increments. I have five weeks down and three-and-a-half to go. So much to do still!! Anyway, I have to leave my passport at the immigration office for a week to get the visa, which is a frightening prospect. It makes me nervous in normal circumstance having to leave a passport anywhere (even in proper consulates and embassies in North America), but it honestly is a concern here… last month, when the government was essentially suspended, all government offices were closed and everyone applying for a visa at the time had their passports “trapped” until further notice. I’m told that various embassies here issued temporary travel documents during the emergency, but I’m just very thankful to have two passports.

But, as I mentioned earlier, I can’t foresee another emergency in the near future. After word that the Aussie Embassy reduced their travel advisory, the US Embassy followed suit and lifted their mandatory evacuation order.

And just as life in Timor is reverting to normal, things in my immediate life are returning to normal – if I can use that word considering I’ve only been here a month? Remember I had been living with the director of my ngo and her fiancé, and their house was completely ransacked a few weeks back? After salvaging what little was left by the thieves -- perpetrators? neighbors? I never really know what to call them -- we moved into a hotel until they could find a new place to live… the old house was not only too unsafe -- robbed twice, could be robbed again, and in a now sketchy neighbourhood -- but the idea was just too traumatic. So, they just found a new home, and we moved in a few of days ago.

The place is pretty amazing for Timor standards: three spacious bedrooms, high ceilings, AC, and a large living room-dining rooms… and it also has a nice view of the Balide Church across street, with the hills in the background. Unfortunately, the place was furnished with relatively tacky furniture quite reminiscent of classic Eastern European design ☺ but that’s easy to remedy with a little home decorating. If anything, it’s just so nice to settle into a real place… again. After living out of my two bags for seven weeks, it felt good to put stuff on a shelf and eat breakfast and dinner at home.

ahhh…such a novelty!

In other news, I've *finally* figured out how to load photos onto this site. Yah! Definitely, there will be more to come...

balide church

balide church, originally uploaded by melissaintimor.

back to basics

Earlier this week, the Australian Embassy here in Dili sent out a text message to all registered foreign nationals (which includes me, in lieu of any Canadian office in this country). It read: “Travel advice has changed. Overall level reduced to reconsider your need to travel at this time due to uncertain security situation”… And, yes, that is good news ☺

I’ve again missed most international news this past week, but the new Prime Minister was signed into office without incident. Although it still remains to be seen how the new government will fare, life is definitely seeming more normal on the streets. After writing a lot about nasty politics, homes being destroyed, and general mass chaos and uncertainty – the word of choice even for an international office! – I figure that it’s time for some more mundane observations about ordinary life in Timor-Leste.

Where else to start but the basics: food.

I have yet to find any dish or preparation that is particularly “Timorese.” It seems to be a difficult thing to pin down. The roadside stalls (or the more “upscale” $2 -$3 lunch places) serve a mix of Indonesian and other Asian foods: rice with stir-fried or pickled vegetables, roast chicken, stewed fish, etc. But, as with any location that is home to its own UN mission, you can find a range of restaurants here including Indian, Western-style places (burgers, fish & chips, pastas), and one an amazingly good Japanese place given the circumstances. Timor is a former Portuguese colony and aside from some earlier cultural influences, many Portuguese also moved here in 1999 post-Indonesia… The two nicest (and most expensive) restaurants in town are both Portuguese. Earlier this week I had a prawn and crab seafood pot at one of them, and it was pretty decent. Not quite a West Coast bouillabaisse, but, again, given the circumstances…

The vast majority of the country is involved in subsistence agriculture, and even those who have regular salaries make a very small amount of money. Well-trained, educated ngo staff make between $200-300, while restaurant staff will make $90-100. Yes. A month. Lunches here are incredibly long because people generally go home to eat… Even the $2 lunches would be too extravagant for every day, especially considering there are usually at least 10 children per family to feed and support! I’ve actually heard that Timor has the world’s highest birthrate. Although I haven’t confirmed that figure, it wouldn’t be surprising: it’s an incredibly poor, almost entirely Catholic, country.

There are 4 popular Western-style grocery stores, but with so much small-scale agriculture, a lot of locally grown produce is sold at roadside markets. Before I arrived, the four main markets were entirely burned down, but new stalls are slowly being established in new locations. Even in the city you can see small rice paddies and watercress fields, and a seemingly endless numbers of banana, papaya, and coconut trees. You can find lots of other tropical fruits for sale in the markets -- tangerines, pineapples, jackfruit, durian, mango -- although not every stall will have them.

If you want something a bit more substantial than fruit and vegetables, men walk around town selling freshly caught fish tied to strings and hanging from both ends of a large stick. I’ve also seen strips of red meat being sold in the same fashion, though I don’t honestly know what type of meat it is… Goats and pigs mosey freely down the streets alongside the stray somewhat-emaciated dogs. Outside of Dili, large horned cows (bulls? water buffalo? I can’t tell!) are common. The pigs are bloody huge and long-snouted, and spend their days eating garbage out of the trash piles that get burned on a nightly basis. Apparently, the really big pigs are worth $75-$100, which is an exorbitant price compared to a possibly monthly salaries. Yummy: $75 of your own garbage, digested, hung from strings, and walked around a hot, dusty city. Honestly, I wasn’t already a mostly-vegetarian, I certainly would be now!

Garbage is really – surprise! – a large problem here. There is no collective method for dealing with inorganic waste, so, in Dili, it gets places in large brick boxes on the streets, for the pigs, and then burned. In the districts, outside the city, people chuck things wherever it’s out of sight, often “on the other side of the mountain” (literally: our staff in Baucau walk over the hill behind their house!). The collective garbage collection method probably worked decently well for many years because, until quiet recently, almost all waste was organic and “composted” by animals. Then, as in so many underdeveloped places, there was no system capable of dealing with the sudden introduction of non-biodegradables… plastics, metals, excessive packaging, our favourite material objects… And, of course, it’s not that we don’t have the same problems at home, but we’ve just managed to hide it better.

Anyway, while garbage is garbage everywhere, sewage is another thing all together. Alas, though the Indonesians put in roads and schools, there is no functioning sewage system! Instead, all the roads are lined with small trenches and filled with water, which we affectionately call “cholera city” or “malaria town” depending on the mood. It’s not that the entire city smells or anything. It’s just unfortunate. I mean, you can regularly see kids play-fishing in the ditches. It makes me shiver every single time…

…just like I do when I see meat being sold on the streets in the heat!

Seriously, it's a good thing for Timor that the beaches are amazing and the kids are so cute :)

yet again, July 6th

Well, my last update was sent out on Wednesday. By Thursday morning, Dili was in a state of minor panic. By Saturday, the streets were back to quiet, although the week continued to be rather crazy for me.

Well, remember those protesters I mentioned who were massing in the Eastern districts to come into Dili. They were stalled overnight, and were allowed into the capital on Thursday. Despite concerns of that their arrival would instigate fresh violence between these Easterners (who came in support of the already-ex Prime Minister) and the previous protesters in Dili (mostly Western, and definitely anti-Alkatiri), it was agreed that their democratic right to be protest needed to be respected… especially considering that the anti-Alkatiri people had nearly a full week of uninterrupted protests!

Thorough searches of each truck and individual involved in this protest meant that their collective arrival in Dili was late in the day. The group was escorted (by the Australian military and Portuguese guard) around a predetermined route through the city, and none of the protesters were to be allowed out of the trucks. Although they were supposed to leave Dili before nightfall, their late arrival forced a change of plans: the protesters were parked on the beach, and guarded, and would leave in the morning (Friday).

Once news spread that the protesters were starting to enter the city, the streets on the route were quickly lined by large groups of people, mostly young men in neighbourhood “gangs” (which I put in brackets simply because we are not talking the same sort of organized crime as in the Western world). The entire city was shut down: shops and ngos were closed and the UN was in lock-down (no staff allowed to leave headquarters). We all waited at home within reach of our mobile phones in anticipation about whether the day would go by quietly, or whether civil war would break out.

By late afternoon, the girls I was staying with and I started to feel nervous about remaining in the neighbourhood. Many homes in the area once occupied by Easterners had been burned down over the past two months… Just on Wednesday night, my then-housemate’s Timorese boss had her family’s home burned, honestly one block away from where we were staying. The boss was a known Alkatiri supporter, and having predicted the attack, her entire family had moved out and was spending that night in a protected location.

So, anyway, we were half-heartedly worried that some pro-Alkatiri supporters would manage to leave the designated night time area and target our neighbourhood for revenge… And, to compound that fear, the local groups of boys on the streets were setting up roadblocks, ostensibly to make it difficult for anyone to enter, but also which would have made it difficult to escape quickly enough should anything actually happen. We were still wavering on whether to stay or leave when the boys outside started throwing ammunition (or something) into fires. I found out after that they believed that the explosions would make the protesters think that they had weapons, and deter them coming into the neighbourhood… But it definitely scared the shit out of us girls, and we called some ex-military friends to come escort us to a hotel (with security!) for the night.

I’ve been staying here at the (inexpensive) hotel since then, but apparently that night passed without much major incidents. Yes more property was burned that day, and yes, I saw some gangs trying to instigate a fight by throwing stones at another groups of kids, but that civil war never materialized. Work essentially went began as usual and more shops and restaurants have been are open this week than were the first week I arrived in Timor.

Yet, despite that return to normality, the rest of that week was fairly bad for me… The first week I was in Dili I had been staying with the director of Ba Futuru and her boyfriend, in their home not far from our office. While they were away last week, I went twice daily to feed their dog and check-in on the property. Wednesday morning, it was clear that the home had been broken into: I had a single pair of running shoes stolen, while their entire collection of dvd’s, a dvd player, and a guitar were also missing. That afternoon, we took some of their more important and valuable belongings out of the home, as a precaution. Good timing. The house was entirely cleaned-out by Thursday afternoon.

Except for a kitchen table, some clothes, and three bed frames, everything they owned was gone. (Sadly, the dog was healthy, and probably could have fed an entire family in these somewhat desperate times). Without any insurance in Timor, the money that they need to replace things is actually a problem… But I think more devastating for them is that they both have been dedicated to this country for several years, and sacrificed much easier lives to stay here, and it must be painful that this is what they’ve received in return. The house actually belonged to a family from that East, so it is possible that the property was targeted for that reason, and not burned down only because it was rented by malae (foreigners). But, it’s also possible that the empty house made an easy target. unfortunately, without a functioning police, and people in the neighbourhood unwilling to divulge information, I don’t think we’ll ever know.

Aye.

Between one day of crazy uncertainty a la stone throwing, explosions, and protests, and the next few days of being upset about a dead dog and a major robbery, it really was a stellar week. I did definitely consider leaving, and even went to the airport to get a schedule of flights to Darwin. But, when it came down to it, I still feel safe here, and work goes on. I would not be averse to leaving anytime in the future if that changes, but at this very moment I think it’s worth staying.

Besides, Sunday came, and I spent the day at the beach – my favourite Timor weekend ritual. I borrowed some snorkelling gear from a friend, and spent more than an hour floating over a coral reef, only meters from the shore… I saw florescent plants, angle fish, bright blue neon fish, and five nemos in their sea anemone-like homes. They’re curious creatures, and swim up to explore wiggling fingers.

It was incredible.

Tonight I played “What’s Good About the Situasaun?” and everyone managed to come up with at least one positive despite the current situation… Even amazing things can happen in the worst of weeks.

more from timor, june 28th

Alo

So, yet again, it’s been a while since I’ve managed to get to a computer with internet… I am glad that you’ve called every now and again, so I don’t feel so bad about not emailing enough ☺

I’m sure you’ve been watching far more news than I have had a chance to see, but let me tell you about what it’s like here from my perspective.

A very important word in Timor is “Situasaun”, which easily translates to “the situation”. Everyday, people talk about the “sutuasaun” – it occupied most of the conversations we have! Most information is based on what we see around us, and from text messages that circulate rapidly through the ngo community. It’s funny that way, that most of what we hear is based rumour, and then speculation about what might happen if the rumour is true.
Around the city, during the days it has been relatively calm… the mass protests again PM Mari Alkatiri turned to two days of mass celebration after he resigned. People have been driving around in lori trucks and cars, filled to the brim with young people, some with big banners against Alkatiri, and big pictures of Xanana Gusmao. Some even had effigies of Alkatiri. A few trucks had people that were painted (faces and bodies). The trucks have been driving around town all day in a huge line, so getting stuck behind the protesters was a major pain for traffic! Yesterday, we saw the line up at the gas station, and counted at least 69 trucks in a row.

Until he resigned, there were a few days also of uncertainty. With growing numbers of protesters, there was concern that they would get frustrated and violence would be more likely. For instance, on Sunday, I was out at a beach all afternoon with Katerina (from AustCare, who I’ve been staying with) and her housemate Emily, and a bunch of other internationals…. It was absolutely beautiful, and we stayed to watch the sunset. But then the text messages started flying with news that Jose Ramos Horta (nobel prize winner and Foreign Minister) had resigned, and there was fear about how people would take that news… We were had just arrived at a restaurant on the beach for a late dinner, and had just ordered, but decided to get the food to go and get home. Early that morning, we heard a few distant gunshots, but otherwise, nothing materialised. (And, there were claims that what we thought were gunshots were actually celebratory fireworks set off by Portuguese for the world cup win!).

So, Alkatiri resigned, and Monday and Tuesday were full of speculation about what would happen with government – who would be the new PM? would Xanana (the much loved President) have total control? would Ramos Horta get his job back? would this satisfy the people who wanted the PM to resign? and perhaps more importantly, what would come of the recent problems between East and West in Timor-Leste???

And later on Tuesday, we started to hear news that many people from the Eastern districts were massing, to come into Dili. Apparently, from what I’ve heard, it’s not that they necessarily support Alkatiri, but they support the Constitution and the Fretilin party which was elected into power, and they don’t want Xanana to form a one-person government. Anyway, these are the rumours.

Last night, I went to a little going away party for some one moving to work in Ache (Indonesia), and three Aussie soldiers were also there. They were fairly confident that the new protesters were being slowed down and checked at established check-points before they could actually get into Dili. And, we discovered today that the protesters either chose not to come into Dili, or were actually stopped by the international forces. These Aussie boys also told us that most serious weapons (guns) have already been seized from Dili. (as a side note, just the other night, we ran into a couple of tanks on the road near Katerina’s house… the Aussie force had received information of a cache of ammunitions belonging to some one with Timorese military connections, and they were raiding that house).

Anyway, since this morning, there has been a lot of continued uncertainty of what will happen between protesters who support of Alkatiri and/or the Constitution, and the people here who are happy to see him leave. There are also reports that Xanana ordered Alkatiri’s arrest, in regards to involvement in weapons and the killing of opposition supporters (or something)… Watching the news this afternoon (finally!!), we see that more homes were burned last night, but the day has been quiet. So, as it’s been the past month, we just don’t know how things will pan out. Every day here seems different. People say in Tetum, “today is not tomorrow”.

I will continue to be careful, for instance, not travelling through any hot spots in the city, staying home when we hear rumours of new protests, etc. I still don’t feel any risk to myself, which might seem strange given the situation… but no one is targeting foreigners (called “malae” here), and I am honestly more concerned about the staff, and all Timorese people who just want peace and things to return to normal.

And life goes on. This very moment, I am at the Ba Futuru office with the three staff still in Dili, waiting from Phyllis (Sean’s mother) to return so we can finish planning the new Ba Futuru project. I don’t think I’ve even had time to tell you about what’s been going on for work, so let me try here…

There are still four staff in Baucau. The project there were working on there just finished yesterday, but given the uncertainty here in general, especially for a bunch of girls from the East, they will have to stay in Baucau until we feel safe picking them up and bringing them back into Dili. But, hopefully that will happen soon… We are waiting for confirmation (based on a final proposal that needs to be completed) from UNICEF, Care International, and Caritas for funding of a new Dili project. There are 50-somthing IDP camps in Dili, some of which are very large (1000s of people), and others with only a small number of families. Major emergency response organizations have divided the camps, and each organization is responsible for a certain camps. And different organizations have taken on responsibility for various aspects of camp life – food, tents, child-safe spaces activities, medical care, etc.

Ba Futuru has been participating in the Child-Protection working group in Dili, and has taken responsibility to do informal educational activities with kids (aged 8-18) in three of the smaller camps. We have created a shortened version of the curriculum, that still has conflict resolution, human/child rights, trauma/healing, arts and drawing, and now includes a small section on health and hygiene. So, we’ve been very busy running to different meetings and finishing the new edition of the curriculum to print.

If everything stays calm enough for us to start implementation, I think it will be really a really good project. Kids in the camps have nothing to do, schools have closed, and especially younger children must have trouble understanding what is going on and why they are not living at home. At the same time, part of getting life here back to normal involves getting people to stop relying on “malae” for safety and return to their homes and go on with life. It’s a big dilemma – you obviously have a moral obligation to stop suffering, and keep people safe and healthy, but supporting the camps also drags out the situation (whatever it will turn out to be). But, really, this dilemma is not something directly related to Ba Futuru, because education is also important and more sustainable than the emergency response activities. But, nevertheless, it’s something to think about.

Anyway, I figure this is long enough for now ☺

It is definitely an interesting time to be in this country.

love from timor update, june 24th

I’ve never before been this out of touch with the world. I haven’t once used internet since my last email, now at least 5 days ago. For an internet junkie, this is serious! Although it’s really a nice change not to spend hours and hours each day staring at a computer, I am going through online news withdrawal… I’ve not read a newspaper. There is no television (where I’m staying) -- though even if there was, it seems that most of the shows are totally bizarre Indonesian teledramas. Last night on a short drive home, I managed to catch roughly 4 minutes of bbc radio news, but it only told me about some not so interesting Al Qeada arrests in the U.S.

In short, I have absolutely *no* idea what is happening in the world.

More than that, I don’t have a clear picture of what’s happening here. You all could probably look up a hundred articles on Google news and be far more in touch with reality than I am. Then again, maybe that reality is no more real than each day here. It’s a bit hard to explain, but reality, here, feels far more present… What matters most is the reality of where you are, who you are with, and what you are doing. What’s happening with the government - or in Iraq or Canada or Zimbabwe for that matter - is some sort of secondary reality.

Not to say, of course, that people are blissfully ignorant of the situation here. Quite the opposite is true. The lack of reliable information about what is happening here means that a lot of people are simply quite afraid. They just don’t know what will happen. From my perspective, that fear is partly unnecessary. But given the history, it’s also totally understandable and justified. If you want more information about what happened in 1999 when Timorese people voted for independence from Indonesia, definitely try to see a film called “Answered by Fire”. I just watched this two-part televised series last night. Although it doesn’t provide much context for the elections and the violence that surrounded it, the film offers a strong portrayal of what happened. It was funded jointly by Australia and Canada, but I don’t know if it’s been released in North America. At least try looking it up for me ☺

As for what’s been going on now, things have been very quiet in Dili. Last night, the city was silent. Many people are still frightened by the violence in the streets that happened mostly while I was in Australia a few weeks ago… Homes and market stalls were burned, and lots of young men took to the streets with weapons. Big sticks and machetes. In fact, these are extremely common tools here: the machetes are used in the fields or to cut wood for a stove. Driving around in Baucau, stalls on the side of the road sold machetes and knives for $6. But Ani aptly wrote “every tool is a weapon if you use it right”.

Remarkably few people have been actually killed or injured in the past months, but thousands of people who feared an escalation of violence fled to the hills and mountains outside of the Capital, to their homes in other districts, or to make-shift shelters in the city. These are now established IDP camps (internally-displaced persons camps). Ba Futuru will be working in three IDP camps starting next week, with a large grant from UNICEF. We will do a shortened version of the normal curriculum, to include arts and play activities to help kids process the trauma, loss, grief, and to learn some conflict resolution skills. And, honestly, to just relieve plain boredom. I went to visit one of the camps a few days ago, but they are an entire story by themselves. Since we’ll be working in them soon, hopefully I’ll be able to write more about them later.

Anyway, people are still scared. Almost all of the Timorese staff at the restaurant where Sean (who I’m staying with) works is sleeping there at nights, both men and women. They don’t want to travel to and from home in the dark. And four of staff of Ba Futuru have been staying in Baucau, another district nearly 4 hours away by winding road.

But it is also more complicated. For some reason, which is still unclear to me, there have been divisions between people from the East and people from the West of the country. It’s not even clear to me how many people are from the East and how many from the West, and what the original mix in Dili was a few months ago, before people started fleeing the city. But it does seem clear that Easterners are being more targeted here. The neighbourhood directly behind where I’ve been staying (called Villa Verde) has a lot of burned houses, and apparently the families living there were from the East.

The girls in Baucau are all from the East. The program they are working on in two orphanages there will finish on Tuesday, and they want to return to Dili… but to ensure their safety and peace of mind, two of the girls will come stay with us here at Villa Verde, and we’ll possibly hire a local security guard. As well, one of the amazing Ba Futuru staff (a girl named Lica “Leeka”) whose background is Western will come stay here, in hopes that if anything crazy happens, the mixed population will protect everyone.

This said, I don’t want to worry you all. Nothing has made me feel particularly concerned about the situation. The Australia military has been stopping everyone at check-points into and out of the city, and people here know that they won’t get away with any weapons or violence. Seriously, the Aussie force is scary. With the constant tanks rolling down the streets, and men and women (!!) in full camouflage with major guns, I’m honestly somewhat more nervous every time we run into them than I am walking around the streets here! Don’t get me wrong; I think everyone here is thankful that the Aussies are around. But personally, it’s just a matter of which weapons are bigger.

There is a protest that has been building over the past few days, but probably because of the military presence, it has been peaceful. People have been protesting against the Prime Minister, Mari Alkitiri. There are claims of financial mismanagement, and that he has been giving major contracts to his family (ex. Reconstruction projects, etc), but there have been few positive results. Whether or not these are true, it seems clear that he no longer has support of the population, and any responsible politician would step down. Currently, we are waiting to hear whether or not this has happened. But, given my current lack of any news whatsoever, it could have happened hours ago ☺

Even though the protests have been peaceful, it has become apparent to me over the past week how quickly things can change in Timor, and how people seem capable of transforming almost instantaneously. Yesterday, I was in a photocopy shop with one of the staff, making I.D. cards for everyone, a small fight broke out on the street. I have no idea what instigated it, but one man just seemed all of a sudden to become livid with rage, so much so that his face changed entirely. Similarly, on Tuesday afternoon, we drove out to Baucau to visit the staff, and watch them implement the program at Venilale, one of the two orphanages where they have been working. Two girls, maybe 8 years old, were supposed to be painting a picture together, based on a story being narrated by one of the staff. All of a sudden, one of girls became enraged. Her face physically changed, and she hit the other girl with a hard whack. As soon as I looked in their direction, and said something like “no, you can’t do that” in Tetum, they stopped. I could see that the girl who was hit was trying to calm the other one down, possibly so they didn’t get in trouble. I’ve worked with kids for several years, ages 1-18. Especially young children get frustrated easily, and hitting is common. But I have never before seen a child (let alone a young girl) get so angry, so suddenly.

Witnessing these things made me realise the importance of the kind of conflict resolution, human rights education that Ba Futuru is doing here. Especially because the staff is all Timorese, even training 7 young people with peacebuilding skills and knowledge can make a real difference.

But, it also made me realize how difficult it would ever be to create sustainable change in the way people interact with each other here, or in the ways in which they chose to resolve problems.

Such is life: Where something is most needed, it is also most difficult.