Lihu, Railaco, Ermera

On Sunday, we went to Areia Branca Beach for breakfast (banana smoothie, baked beans on toast and scrambled eggs) and a swim. While eating our breakfast we listened to Radio National’s Background Briefing on my portable radio. The story was on China: a taped lecture given by Dr Paul Monk, an academic expert on China from the University of Melbourne’s Asialink. He has just published a book called Thunder From the Silent Zone which we are keen to read. At 11am, I went for a swim in the warm water. It was lovely and refreshing but unfortunately, I got sunburnt after only 30 minutes. I must remember to wear sunscreen next time.

That afternoon, we went for our regular walk to Tasitolu Peace Park. It was a pleasant way to finish a wonderfully relaxing day. Unfortunately our peaceful day came to a screeching halt at 10pm when our neighbours across the road (you know the ones) began band practice with their newly purchased amplifier! It went on way past midnight and as a result, we could not sleep. I woke (from what sleep I eventually got) exhausted and extremely angry. We decided we would have to speak to Senyora Domingas about it, which we did later that evening. She was very sympathetic and said she could not sleep either and woke with a headache. She said she would talk to her brother about it the following day. We haven’t heard a peep out of them since but we’re not holding our breath that this will keep up indefinitely.

On Wednesday, I attended my first public education training with my NGO. It took place in a village called Lihu (population estimate: a couple of thousand) in the sub district of Railaco in the district of Ermera, a 35km or 50 minute trip southwest of Dili. Upon arrival, tens of people greeted us. It turned out that more than 100 villagers had come along. What a number! All the women sat at the front, and the men at the back with many more sitting on the floor. Most of the women had dressed up for the occasion and were wearing their finest clothes. The older women wore sarongs for a skirt and a shirt or jacket on top. Colour coordination wasn’t a major consideration. There were two small children in attendance, one of whom I played eye games with which resulted in many smiles from us both. I was the only “malae” and quite an oddity.

A colleague from my team spoke for the first hour during which she elicited much laughter. I have noticed this tendency of Timorese to laugh a lot. They think many things are funny and even when meeting people for the first time, much laughing takes place. A colleague from Daniel’s NGO (who once worked for my NGO) then talked for half an hour about the legal process to follow in cases of sexual assault and domestic violence. Questions from the floor were then taken for nearly one and a half hours. Questions from the older men always occur in a very humble fashion. The man with his arms hanging in front of him places one hand over the other and does what looks like a little bow before speaking as if to say, “please sir, may I humbly ask”. When someone keeps asking questions, some of the audience tends to tsk tsk as a sign of disapproval. In this case, they did it to a middle-aged woman.

Following question time, we then all gathered for lunch and a young man from the village led a prayer. All I could eat was white rice, noodles, a green leafy vegetable carefully extracted from around the tinned Spam, and a lettuce leaf and slice of tomato. This is standard fare for a vegetarian in the districts and simply not enough to survive on (even for just one meal). Most of the dishes were meat (a luxury for the Timorese). However, as I have become familiar with the food offered at such trainings, I came prepared with a small packet of sunflower seeds imported from Singapore (with the ingredients originating in China). For dessert, we had watermelon from Suai and local bananas. (When I returned to work the following day, the coordinator of my team told me that it is often the case that so many people come to such trainings in the villages simply for the food on offer. It is probably one of the heartiest meals they get in a year and this was demonstrated in how high people piled their plates. I would easily have been the heaviest person there, an indication of how well fed I am compared to the Timorese.)

After the meal, I sat with my colleagues and witnessed a very funny moment. Two of them proceeded to paint their finger and toe nails with pink nail polish. For me, this was incredibly funny. The organisation I work for is ostensibly feminist and some (not all) of the women are. To give a public education session on sexual assault and domestic violence and then decorate yourself with nail polish is not what I expected. I very much doubt that most women in the same field in Australia would do such a thing but here, the cultural norms are somewhat different.

After lunch, the “xefi suco” (village chief or mayor) gave a little speech and led us in another prayer before we departed. The villagers later on would watch a film about women and violence but without our presence. I also remembered to bring with me toilet paper and my small bottle of liquid soap and as expected, I needed them. At least this time there was a functioning squat toilet and “mandi”!

It was a very enjoyable day; I really take pleasure in observing such training and watching the local people listening intently and asking questions about a topic that is quite confronting and usually a first in terms of informal education (let alone formal education of which most would have had very little). However, I was feeling unwell due to the trip up where I had to sit in the back of the 4WD on a vertical running seat with no seat belt along those windy roads. I managed to persuade Daniel’s colleague to swap seats on the return journey and I sat in the front passenger seat. When dropped off at home, I immediately lay down.

Sister Michelle Reid of the Good Samaritan order has spent five years living in Dili. Most of this time she worked at the Becora Prison, which houses those militia successfully tried under the UN’s Serious Crimes Panel. We met her when we heard she was moving out of her house. We didn’t take the house but had a wonderful conversation about her work at the Prison. On Wednesday, Radio Australia aired the Religion Report from Radio National, which included an interview Sian Prior from the Age newspaper did with Sr Michelle on Prior’s recent trip to Timor. She talked about her work at the Prison. It’s well worth reading.

The same evening I listened to the interview with Sr Michelle, Australia Talks Back discussed diaries and blogs (web diaries). I was most interested as I write my personal thoughts in our blog and often think about my audience, wondering who is going to disagree with me about my take on things, particularly where it concerns the social and political. However, I have yet to read any negative comments. In repressive regimes such as China, blog providers such as ours (blogger) have colluded with the totalitarian regime to disallow any Chinese bloggers to mention words such as human rights, or democracy. If you try to post such words, blogger simply rejects your post!

This week we watched Ladies in Lavender with Judi Dench and Maggie Smith. We both love Dench as an actor (one of our favourite television series was As Time Goes By with Geoffrey Palmer). We both very much enjoyed this lovely little English film.

Daniel was initiated into the secret world of the elite “malae” during the week. With Dili being such a small town full of such a diverse group of foreigners - many in powerful positions - there is a definite feeling that a lot happens in restaurants and backroom invite-only get-togethers. It reminds me of high school and its cliques. Unfortunately a big negative on my list of reasons for continuing in the 'development industry'.

Princess Anne arrived in Timor on Wednesday for a one-day visit before departing for Papua New Guinea and their thirty-year’s of independence celebrations. While I was eating lunch at my favourite (Indian) restaurant, a cavalcade of 4WDs and motorbikes and police headed out on the road to the airport. Two Australian women visiting Timor as part of the group Friends of Ainaro I was lunching with told me the cavalcade was going out to collect Anne. I had no idea. This was just another example of how out of the loop you can be in Timor. Perhaps I should consider being initiated into the “in” crowd? (Not!)

I had another flash of insight this week as to why I do not like catching taxis. They constantly harass you by beeping their horns and slowing down as they approach hoping you’ll need their services (and as there are so many, you cannot escape a short walk without at least one (usually more) harassing you). I feel like a streetwalker (prostitute) and they’re the johns. It makes me really angry.

Category: Timor-Leste (East Timor)

M is for Mikrolets, Mosquitos, Men and Marriage

Saturday 24 September 2005

I have experienced new found freedom catching “mikrolets”! I am no longer tied to Daniel and can come and go as I please (within reason) and pay only 10c a journey. It is so much better than catching taxis where I often feel trapped, disempowered and vulnerable. Most of the “mikrolets” have names (as do some of the taxis) blazoned across their fronts and sides and the funniest one I have seen to date is called Teletubbies after the BBC children’s series. There are however some problems with using them as our primary mode of transportation.

Firstly, they are often so crowded, particularly in the early evening, that we have to wait up to 15 minutes for one that has a seat; there is a constant stream of them but just not enough for the many people who use them. (When leaving for work in the morning we never have to wait more than a couple of minutes because the end of the route is less than 1km from our house). During peak periods, 12 people are packed in like sardines in the back; up to 5 men hanging out the door; and 2 in the front passenger seat. You certainly do not and cannot have issues with personal space. Secondly, when you enter a “mikrolet”, no one moves down but up making it very difficult to navigate your way to a seat at the back. Thirdly, the music is very loud and the bass dominates so that you cannot hear the words to the song and the music is repetitive. The Timorese have a very limited selection of music to choose from, the current popular tunes come from one band in Brazil, and old North American 80s pop/rock bands (Bryan Adams and Bon Jovi are favourites). Fourthly, there is no air conditioning, and the side windows do not open very far (although there is an open doorway) so it is rather hot and stuffy particularly during peak periods when you are jammed up close and personal with other people. An interesting observation I have made is that a number of young men keep a 10c coin for their fare in their ear!

The “mikrolet” will stop and pick you up or drop you off from any spot on its route; there are no set stops. When you want to catch a “mikrolet”, you stand on the side of the road and put your arm out. When you want to disembark, you do one of three things: tap your 10c coin on the rail above your head, clap your hands or make a popping sound with your mouth (usually only done by young men). At certain stops like the Cormoro Market, men (including boy children) selling cigarettes crowd around the “mikrolet” trying to sell a single cigarette to male passengers (women do not smoke, publicly at least). Unfortunately, I have had to endure a couple of trips with at least one man puffing away while I sit in close confines, which is most unpleasant. On Wednesday night’s trip home, I was mortified to see a boy around the age of 7 or 8 offered a cigarette by a passenger, and he accepted and finished it off! This child got off at my stop as he lives in my community. I do not know where his parents were but perhaps the driver (who was a crazy driver) was his father or relative. I have never seen a child smoking and it was shocking. There is too much smoking here and a health campaign financed by a rich nation should be undertaken without delay!.

On Thursday morning’s trip the driver had painted his long thumb nails bright red. Many Timorese men have long fingernails, particularly their thumbnails. Our Tetun teacher’s thumbnail is so long that it has started to curl back and he sometimes wears nail polish on it too! At the Comoro Market, I saw a young man with long dangly earrings that were clearly designed for women. There is certainly a effeminacy to Timorese men that is very different from the macho men back home. That said, what is effeminate or macho is merely a cultural construct so unfortunately it can’t be construed as a sign of mass gayness or equality between the sexes.

Despite the problems, I enjoy catching “mikrolets” as I feel part of the community and mostly safe. Very few “malae” catch them, which I think is a shame. On our Wednesday morning trip, a passenger who was an English student at university was surprised by our presence as he said that “malae” rarely catch “mikrolets”.

Due to growing tired of dowsing myself with mosquito repellent three times a day, I began to think about alternative ways I might keep the little buggers from biting me. A number of “malae” have told me about the mossie tennis rackets, which look like a normal tennis racket but is in fact an implement that when you hit insects, produces an electric shock and kills them. I purchased one at the supermarket for $3. They are plastic, made in China, and need two AA batteries to work. It is a very effective device as I am now managing to keep my office mosquito free (when my Timorese colleague remembers to shut the door, which she often does not so I also spend a lot of time going to and from the office door in order to close it after her). However, while I am at work, I spend a shocking (pardon the pun) amount of time killing mossies particularly in the early mornings and late afternoons. Often the sound when killing them is very loud accompanies by the faint smell of burning insect.

This week we bought an ironing board for Senyora Domingas as she has been bending down over a small table about the height of a coffee table to do the ironing. Consequently, her spine must be wearing away. Frankly, I am surprised that none of the previous occupants (mostly other “malae”) has thought to do so! We went to two supermarkets and both only stocked ironing boards suitable for older children or adolescents. They were too low for me but then I thought perhaps they had been built with Timorese women in mind as they are mostly shorter than me (and I’m only 5’3), and certainly Senyora is much shorter than me. Therefore, we purchased a pretty pink and purple covered one with wooden legs for $13. At home, I tried to remove the plastic it was covered in and discovered to my great frustration that the plastic was attached to the board before the legs and side holder for the iron had been screwed in. The plastic was actually bolted in place! Goodness gracious me: did the manufacturers anticipate the ironing be done on the plastic? All I could think of was that men made the ironing boards and as they never appear to do any housework, probably have no idea that you cannot iron on plastic! So I took to the plastic with a pair of scissors and ripped great wads of it out from under the screws.

I met up with my Timorese friend who is studying English at the national university and who wants to obtain a scholarship to study in Australia. Since we had last met, I (and my Aunt) had done some research about the scholarships on offer and reported our findings to her in an email. As explained in a previous post, she has a 1% chance of securing a scholarship and given her level of English, I do not like her chances. Therefore, we talked about my findings and the possibility of her doing more intensive English training through courses that run in Dili. Based on the price she told me (which I need to have confirmed), I will probably pay for her to do such a course as her family are unlikely to help her because they do not have the money.

When my friend explained her family situation, my empathy deepened further. She is the only child of her father’s second marriage to her mother. However, her father has three wives and between 15-20 children both biological and step (some are dead). Her father is 65 years old, his first wife 50, his second wife 45 and his third wife 36. He inherited his third wife from his brother when he died. In traditional Timorese society (which is the norm here), polygamy is accepted practice. Her father separated from his first wife, but continues to live with either his second or third wife, depending on who takes his fancy at any given moment. As you might expect, there is a lot of hostility between the wives and constant arguments and falling-outs. The husband stays out of all this yet he is the cause of the problems!

Women are often sold into marriage by their uncles to other men for ‘bride price’ or dowry (which usually consists of animals such as buffalo, cattle, pigs and produce such as rice). In Los Palos where my friend is from, ‘bride price’ is very expensive (and therefore, men often live with women but no formal marriage takes place). However, because bride price is paid by the husband’s family, the woman is considered to be owned or controlled not only by her husband but even more so by his family. The higher the bride price, the higher the in-laws’ expectations of the wife and their involvement in the couple’s marriage. If the bride price is not fully paid, the woman can have more freedom.

As Timorese society is collectivist, it maintains close-knit family relationships. Therefore, the collective’s interests are valued more than the individuals. All male members of an extended family maintain this culture. A man and his male network are central in the relationship of men and women. Therefore, women are positioned as the property of men. For example, the inheritance system privileges men over women in that the latter cannot receive family resources or own land. All of the family’s property – including women – belongs to the man and his male network (hence when a man dies, his brother “inherits” his wife). Established traditional practices to mediate disputes between men of two families do not involve women in the process, even if the dispute involves them such as in the case of domestic violence. The woman’s uncles negotiate with the husband and his male relatives for compensation (usually animals and produce). The woman is left out of negotiations and in the end, receives no justice. However, her family receive the compensation.

The organisation I work for has noted that many cases of domestic violence occur when wives start complaining about their (domestic) burdens or when a husband wants to take a second wife. If there is domestic violence, the woman’s family usually sides with the husband and his family because in their mind, the wife was bought properly and the husband as head of the family and breadwinner has to be served. The matter can be resolved through a traditional dispute resolution (“adat” law) called “kasu sala” (financial sanction). However, generally, women’s concerns are ignored and they do not have the right to speak in the typical “adat” process. “Kasu sala” is therefore concerned with regulating relationships between men in which women are a form of currency. The most important agenda is gaining compensation rather than protecting women from violence. #

“Woman was created under the domination of the husband. It is normal that a man is in control and the woman is powerless – as a mother and as a husband’s servant and she should behave delicately.” *

I contributed to my first funeral this week. (Since commencing work, I have contributed money for a number of babies and confirmations.) Our office manager’s only sibling and brother was killed in a car accident in Indonesia. Her father is dead so there is only her mother left who also lives in Indonesia (they are Indonesian not Timorese). It’s hard to know how much I should contribute but after looking at how much everyone else has (it’s written on a sheet of paper) I decided to double what my colleagues were putting in, with the exception of the Director as she always contributes 3 or 4 times as much as the others. (I don’t want to usurp her position in the hierarchy (even if I do earn more money as a volunteer than she does!))

This past week I have been suffering from my third health problem since I arrived three months ago (in Australia I am rarely unwell so I find this disconcerting). This time it is conjunctivitis (pinkeye) which I self diagnosed from a search on the Internet as being caused by bacteria (as opposed to allergy, irritant, or virus). We have a bottle of antibiotic eye and ear drops which we purchased from the Travel Doctor before our departure, so Daniel has been dropping the solution into my eyes. Unfortunately, my left eye was so badly affected that my vision was blurry for a couple of days, which I found very frightening. I do not think I have ever had conjunctivitis before (but maybe I did as a child).

This week we experienced our third public holiday since we arrived. Tuesday was Liberdade Day, which celebrates the 1999 arrival of INTERFET to Timor and the withdrawal of Indonesians troops. It was also the “xefi aldeia” elections for Dili (a bit like elections for local government councillors). On our trip to the supermarket, we saw many people queued up outside schools in order to vote for their sub-village chiefs. It made me smile to see so many people exercising their democratic right to vote in a country that has only had this privilege for 6 years. The “xefi suco” (village chief or our equivalent of mayor) elections are on 30 September.

We watched Spirited Away last week the multi award winning Japanese animation film. It was beautifully realised with a wonderful storyline. A real fairy tale for children in the vein of the Grimm’s Brothers. I highly commend it. I also watched the latest Bridget Jones’ instalment The Edge of Reason. It was a very light romantic comedy, which provided me with an hour or so of escapism. The best part of the film was Colin Firth as Mr Darcy. I loved him (along with thousands of other women) in the BBC’s 1995 rendition of Pride and Prejudice. However, I came to him late, as I never watched the original screening while living in London, as I was not into costume dramas then (I was too young to appreciate them). The ABC screened it again earlier this year (or was that last year?) in Australia where I watched it for the first time.

I am now reading A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian a first novel by Marina Lewycka. She was born of Ukrainian parents in a refugee camp in Kiel, Germany, at the end of the war, grew up in England and now teaches at Sheffield Hallam University. The novel confused the online bookseller Amazon into classifying it under science and engineering! This month it was hailed a "masterpiece of tragicomic writing" and won the £20,000 Saga award for books of wit and humour by authors over 50. Her story is about the havoc created in a family of Ukrainian exiles in Peterborough when the father marries a gold-digging woman from his homeland. It is a very funny read, which I could well imagine being turned into a telemovie by Britain’s Channel 4. We picked the novel up from the book exchange at the Xanana Gusmao Reading Room, which every now and again has a good book or two (but mostly they are drivel).


# Author unknown, ‘Stay together no matter what’: Domestic violence, power relations, and empowerment in East Timor’, unpublished paper, circa 2001

* As quoted in the above. Original source: M. Ajiza, Just as spoon and fork always touch each other: Domestic violence in East Timor, unpublished paper, presented at the Round Table Meeting on the Formulation of Legislation on Domestic Violence, Dili, East Timor, 13-16 November 2001, p.4. Published in 2001 by UNFPA Gender Program.

Category: Timor-Leste (East Timor)

Timor Leste: just another neo-colonial nation-state?

Monday 19 September 2005

On Friday night, we had dinner with a woman in her late 50s who is an Australian born and raised New Zealand resident and citizen who is working on an AusAID funded project in the Ministry of Health. We met her at the very same restaurant where we have befriended the owner mentioned in a previous post. Our Aus/NZ friend brought with her to dinner a 62-year-old Canadian male colleague. They both live in a gated community in separate townhouses near the restaurant. They pay double the rent we do which reflects their income status as fully paid internationals and perhaps their age and need for a higher degree of comfort.

The Canadian man has been here nearly two years and is due to return to Vancouver in December. He is looking forward to leaving as he says the project he is working on in the Ministry of Education to develop the nation’s primary school curriculum is a debacle. As we strongly suspected, the elites in power (President, Prime Minister, Foreign Minister etc) are determined to reintroduce the Portuguese education system of 1975 before the Indonesian invasion. This includes teaching children in Portuguese and not their mother tongue, despite internationally accepted best practice to the contrary. He believes this is because the current elite were part of the chosen few (a mere 5% of the population) that were educated under Portuguese rule, which resulted in a colonial mentality, and includes not thinking critically, and a continuation of the status quos (a society based on an elite versus the rest). The current elite want to rule Timor in the same manner as their former colonial masters (the fact that traditional Timorese society is incredibly patriarchal and hierarchical only exacerbates matters). They certainly will not be told that evidence demonstrates that it is best to teach children in their mother tongue and introduce a second language gradually.

The Canadian man had spent 15 years living in Papua New Guinea and was the architect of that country’s education curriculum where there are over 800 languages in use! When he left about 4 years ago, they had by then managed to successfully teach children in at least 400 of the languages and were on their way to completing the other half. Timor only has to contend with a mere 30 languages or dialects but the elite simply refuse to listen. Moreover, the elite are sending their own children (the President’s included) to the only Portuguese speaking private school in the country in order to train them up to take the mantle of power from their fathers (there are few if any elite women) so they too one day can rule this country as if it is still a colonial outpost circa 1975.

The Canadian man is understandably very upset that the Timorese elite cannot and will not understand that their course of action has set this country on a road of further turmoil and upheaval in the years to come. He believes that social unrest is imminent and it is best for him to leave after his two-year contract expires because he cannot see any hope for this country in the short to medium term. His most poignant comment was, “I am 30 years ahead of my time here.” Remember this man spent 15 years in PNG, a country racked with corruption and crime but at least their education system is delivering good outcomes (although the country does not offer its people anything once they complete their education).

This man’s first hand understanding of the very serious problem of language in Timor only confirms our more distant experiences. Most Timorese we meet, from colleagues to taxi drivers, do not speak and do not want to learn Portuguese. Only a handful of mostly older men speak the language. The majority want to learn English as their second language as time and time again we hear ‘it is the international language’ not to mention the language of ASEAN in which Timor is geographically situated. At any rate, the fact that children whose parents do not speak Portuguese are taught at school in this language is a recipe for failure. For those who have already completed school (or never attended as is often the case), who do not speak Portuguese and are being told they must learn (how and by whom and who pays?) and cannot find work, will continue to channel their anger towards the elite.

Here is a segment on the issue of language from the UNDP report:

“…East Timor needs to look again at the value of mother-tongue teaching—whether in Tetun or any of the other main languages. The experience in other countries that have faced similar problems suggests that children learn more quickly if they first become literate in their mother tongue and then acquire a ‘national’ language, in this case Portuguese or Tetun, as a second language. The confidence of being able to read and write in their mother tongue lays a strong cognitive and emotional foundation, equipping them with the capacities needed to learn a second language. And when children are learning about their legends and culture in their mother tongue they will also get greater support and reinforcement from their parents. This then encourages the children to attend school regularly. International research has shown that one of the main causes of school failure is poor adaptation of national education programmes to the cultural and linguistic characteristics of pupils.

Producing materials in all the main vernacular languages would be very costly— both for printing materials and for training teachers in their use—especially when there are only small numbers of children to be taught in certain languages. Nevertheless international experience shows that the benefits more than justify the expense. East Timor might gain from the experience of Papua New Guinea which has recently introduced over 800 vernacular languages into its schools. Instead of printing materials in all the languages, however, here the approach was to develop materials without text that could be used nationally, but also to provide teachers with detailed guidelines as to how they might use them in their own language.” *

In summary, for a country as poor as Timor, it makes me very angry that the elite insist on using Portuguese as the lingua franca when only 5% of the population speak it. This results in much precious resources (money, time, people) being directed towards teaching MPs, civil servants, health workers, judicial staff, teachers and children a new language, importing native speakers from Portugal and other Lusophone speaking nations as advisers and teachers, and translating documents. There are so many more other important issues that need addressing and I just feel they have their priorities wrong. The language issue highlights the lack of commitment to human development no matter the government’s rhetoric.

As I have said before, the next national elections due in 2007 should be very interesting but as Fretilin currently have 55 of the 88 seats in parliament, for them to lose government will require a change of heart by the Timorese who so valiantly supported Fretilin and their armed wing Falintil throughout Indonesia’s 24-year brutal occupation. Perhaps like most other decolonised countries of the post World War II era, Timor too will have to endure years and years of neo-colonial rule by their very own born and bred elites.

* United Nations Development Program, East Timor Human Development Report 2002, p.51-52

Category: Timor-Leste (East Timor)

Culture Shock!

Saturday 10 September 2005

In the three weeks since my last post I have been feeling quite depressed hence the lack of posts. Full blown culture shock has set in!

As a consequence I have been longing for all things English and Scottish, the home of my ancestors. I daydream about cold wind swept barren Scottish hills, and small quaint, pretty little English villages with beautiful gardens. I long for British television: the wonderful comedies, dramas and crime dramas that I regularly watched while rugging up and lying under a doona on the couch living in London and Melbourne. [Daniel and I are thinking that after our two years in Timor we might (if we can) go and live in Scotland or Scandinavia for a (long) while.] The irony is, I didn’t much enjoy living in Britain and yet now, I’m hankering for it!

On the 1 September I attended Daniel’s NGO’s Human Rights training in Ermera (62km south west of Dili), the main coffee-growing district of Timor. This time I was driven up by one of my NGO’s drivers along with two colleagues. It took about two hours and along the way we passed a well-known orphanage just outside Gleno which is the town before Ermera. I only caught a brief glimpse of the children but would like to return and visit if the orphanage allows this. On the drive up we came across many coffee beans on the road and we drove over them. They were put there deliberately and I had wondered if it was easier to have the cars crush them than to do so by manual labour. However, I was to discover later that the roads are some of the few places in Timor with a flat surface so the coffee farmers lay their beans on the road to dry in the sun. Just before we entered the town of Ermera, we came across a collapsed bridge and had to drive down into the running stream and up over the other side where the road started again. This episode was another example of why 4WD’s are so necessary in the districts of Timor (but [Note to UN] still not necessary in Dili!).

The Human Rights training was conducted in the District Administrator’s (DA) office (the highest public servant for a district). The PNTL (police force of Timor) district head office was also located in the building. Although the building seemed an appropriate place to hold the training I was soon to discover that there was no place to go to the toilet! The toilets in the building were not operating due to a lack of water which meant that 30 odd people attending the training (not to mention the DA staff and PNTL) had no place to go for the entire day! I was appalled! I actually offered to squat behind a tree as I am used to doing so while bushwalking and camping but my Timorese colleagues were shocked at such a thought and decided to find me a “proper” toilet. I do not think they were shocked by the idea of squatting in the open (many Timorese people have no toilet facilities) but more that it wasn’t right for a “malae” to do so. So I was taken to a little eating place up the main street and given the use of their roofless outhouse at the back: a squat toilet with a small drum of water and dirty washing all over the place and no toilet paper. Two very dirty pigs were caged in a small dirty stall adjacent to the outhouse.

I would have preferred to squat behind a tree! I truly have had to cultivate a carefree attitude since arriving in Timor as the sanitation facilities are woeful and it is no surprise to me that so many diseases proliferate here. I’m just thankful that I am a bush walking and camping kind of woman otherwise, I would have freaked out by now!

The outhouse was owned by a family who ran an eating house. If you had seen the conditions in which they went to the toilet and bathed, you’d never eat there! In fact, most eating establishments we frequent would never pass a health inspector’s visit in Australia; they would be closed down immediately. We know this, but try and forget about it otherwise we would have to cook at home all the time and even there, our kitchen isn’t up to our “malae” hygiene levels due to the way it was built.

Upon leaving the outhouse, I tried to talk to the pigs but they were frightened and got up and went to the corner of their small quarters. I love pigs and dogs and often try and talk to them in a very calm voice but I have noticed that all “free range” animals in Timor are incredibly timid. I’m sure it’s related to the fact that people throw things at them, constantly shoo them away or kick them. The other day I saw a car driver deliberately try to run over a dog! In Timor, if you kill a dog there are no consequences. However, if you kill a pig you have to compensate the owner $200! As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, I think it more humane to euthanise most of the dogs and if I could I would.

I have included a couple of photos of Ermera here including some of the church, memorial and mural commemorating the life of the Ermera born priest from Suai who was massacred along with another priest, nuns and a couple of hundred refugees by the Indonesian military backed militia on 6 September 1999, the anniversary for which was commemorated this week. They were murdered in retaliation for the country voting overwhelmingly for independence 7 days before on 30 August.

Above: The main church in Ermera

The District Administrator´s office in Ermera.

Mary and baby Jesus

A mural commemorating one of the priests who was born in Ermera and who was murdered by the Indonesian backed militia in the Suai church massacre of 1999.

A colleague recently gave birth to her first baby. She is our NGO’s only lawyer and I would guess in her early 30s. She will be paid 3 months maternity leave but will then be expected to return to work. Female family members normally look after the baby. All public servants are entitled to 3 months paid maternity leave and any NGO’s and private companies who wish to offer paid maternity leave can do so but it is not obligatory. My NGO offers it. However, as generous as this is, this does not solve the issue of breastfeeding beyond 3 months. The World Health Organisation (WHO) recommends breastfeeding for up to 2 years and exclusively for 6 months. A colleague who gave birth earlier in the year and returned to work after 3 months, returns home every lunch time to breastfeed but surely breastfeeding morning, lunch and evening is not enough for a 3 month old! Timor has a big problem with babies being introduced to food other than breast milk before 6 months of age, which contributes to malnutrition, water borne diseases and often death.

Another colleague is nearly 6 months pregnant with her second child and she is only 22! (Her first child is only a year old which makes me question the supposed wisdom of the Timorese spacing method, which is meant to result in a new child every 2 years!) This colleague was a university student studying English as her major but as a result of her pregnancy, she has not been able to complete the final semester of her degree. She met her husband a year and a half ago and with their first child born a year later you can probably guess it was caused by faulty or no contraception. I suspect it is probably the latter.

Our Director who is 38 years old is 2 months pregnant with her third child having begun her family when she was 28. Another colleague is also due soon. What’s very interesting is the fact that women in Timor appear to announce the pregnancy after a month. They do not wait the requisite 3 months as we do in the West given the high rate of miscarriage during the first trimester. I guess though that in Timor, children are very common (more than 7 children per woman and the highest fertility rate in the world) and considered very special (although in practice, there is no such thing as children’s rights so it does make me wonder). When women miscarry, there must be a lot of social support in particular from family. Moreover, the Timorese are very fatalistic about life and death and probably accept it more easily than we do.

Facilities for pregnant women are very basic. Most women give birth at home (which I am all in favour of if the pregnancy is low risk and attended by a skilled midwife and is certainly my preferred option for giving birth) but only 30% of women are attended to by skilled health staff (eg traditional birth attendant or midwife) during labour.* The Dili National Hospital now has ultrasound machines which can pick up physical defects or congenital malformations: eg Spina bifida and women are offered one or two screenings during their pregnancy. But there is no maternal serum sample (MSS) screening blood tests offered. Therefore women cannot ascertain their risks of having a baby with inherited genetic diseases: eg Cystic fibrosis or chromosome disorders: eg Down’s syndrome. And given MSS is not offered, neither are the diagnostic tests such as Amniocentesis or CVS. With a fertility rate of more than 7 children per woman and no MSS offered, this must result in many disabled children. Then again, with no abortion available either, what would be the point of offering a MSS to detect your risk of carrying a disabled child if you cannot go on to have a diagnostic test and if the result is positive, choose to terminate?

I have recently noticed three young men in the neighbourhood where I work with Down’s. All live in different homes in one small suburb so if this is any indication of the level of disability in the country, I would guess that it is very high. Also in the neighbourhood is a young man in a wheelchair with no legs from his torso down. I’m not sure if he was born this way or something happened later in life but with his total lack of legs, I would have thought the former. Recently I passed a young woman whose entire face and arms were melted away. She had either been involved in a fire (accidental or otherwise) or acid was thrown on her face, which is not uncommon in Bangladesh and India. I suspect it was a result of a fire. I felt deep sadness for her.

I have found two studies, which report on the use of contraception in Timor. One comes from the United Nations Development Program and the other by UNICEF. The former says that 5.6% of women of child bearing age (15-49) use contraception* and the latter finds that 7% do so.# Although during the Indonesian period, it may have been as high as 20%.*# According to UNICEF, only 6% of women know that a condom can prevent HIV and 70% of men when surveyed could not name one form of contraception. There is an understandable fear that HIV is a ticking time bomb waiting to happen in Timor. These grim statistics indicate the lack of education around safe sex and reproductive health; the lack of scientific rational explanations based on evidence, the low status of women and the strong influence of the Catholic Church.

There are many traditional Timorese customs (taboos) surrounding women’s bodies, pregnancy, childbirth, babies and breastfeeding that stem from their animist beliefs. When my colleagues tell me with utter conviction about them, I have to bite my tongue very hard. For example, women are not meant to bathe when it is dark and must do so in daylight hours. After giving birth both the mother and the baby must be wrapped up in many clothes and kept very hot so that they sweat out any possible infections that might have occurred during the birth process, which is, considered an illness. New mothers must bath in scalding hot water and drink only hot drinks. Traditionally both mother and baby will be kept in a closed room by a fire. Women are kept this way for 30 days but babies are completely rugged up including hats on their heads for an indefinite period of time in a country that is mostly very hot. Rugging up the babies, particularly their heads, raises their body temperature, and can result in permanent brain damage. Even when the mothers visit the Dili National Hospital when the child has become sick and are told not to do it, when they return home their mothers and grandmothers reinstall the traditional ways of doing things. Most of this information comes from friend working on a maternal and child nutrition project here.

One of my colleagues who is breastfeeding will not eat any dairy products (eg ice cream) because it is somehow bad for the baby. My Tetun teacher’s wife will not eat fish while she is breastfeeding their child because it is likewise bad for the baby. When I question this practice and ask whether it is a Timorese custom (taboo) or something based in scientific evidence they claim the latter and insist this is the way it is done everywhere. When I point out that this is not the case in Australia, they do not how to respond. And these are all university-educated people! It is really no surprise that Timor has the highest maternal and child mortality rate in the world. I’m all for preserving traditional ways when there is a clear benefit or the tradition has no negative impact, but when it does have an identifiable negative consequence it should be challenged through evidence based education. If I had a baby in Timor, it would spend most of its time naked sleeping close to my chest inside a tais slung around my body and I’d eat whatever I wanted while I breastfed!

The other night when walking home down my street I came across a baby (with a hat on) and its mother (there are many in my street but I just happened to pass close by). I asked the mother how old the baby was and she said eight months, the same age as my niece Riley. But this baby was so incredibly small, very thin and I would guess malnourished. It looked nothing like the photos of my very healthy niece at the same age (photo below).

I was recently moved to a closed office (with a door) because I was making my colleagues sick in the open plan section of the building. How you might ask did I do this: by using a fan to keep me cool! Apparently the dust, which is caked on the fan’s blades, was blowing around the office making them all sick! It certainly wasn’t making me sick and I was sitting right in front of it! Regardless, no one even thought to wash the blades! I was mortified and as a consequence, sunk into a mild depression for days. I am now OK as I am in an office with air-conditioning (one of only three in the building) so I no longer mind although I am separated from my team.

My colleague above who won’t eat dairy products while she is breastfeeding, came to work sick the other day because she had eaten tough food (corn) that made her ovaries ache! She was in incredible pain but insisted it was due to eating tough food! She then went on to say that she and her husband had had a motorbike accident (not uncommon here) a year ago when she was three months pregnant with her sixth child and as a result she miscarried (although she initially said abortion until I queried her about this). She has since suffered from gynaecological problems but still insisted it was the corn that made her ache! Goddess give me patience!

One colleague will not eat certain fruit (staples in Timor) because of a traditional belief specific to his family that eating these fruits will cause death! I suspect that one member of his family way back in the past was perhaps allergic, but then ever since, all members of this family now believe they will die if they eat paw paw or banana! Also, believing this kind of thing diminishes the amount of food people can eat and with a very limited and subsistence diet, this is far more serious than at first it may appear.

I find all of this utterly depressing. The only consolation for me is that part of my role at my NGO is to write a training manual on women’s and children’s rights, which includes sex education, and which I hope will have a positive effect on some Timorese women’s lives. And on a personal level, I feel so blessed to be a secular Western educated woman. I have so many more options in life than my Timorese colleagues do.

Daniel said something very funny the other day. Back in Australia he was considered a bit of a spiritual and esoteric person but in Timor, he feels like the supreme scientific rationalist!

On Monday evening after work I decided to catch a “mikrolet” (minibus) home as Daniel had returned home early, and I don’t like catching taxis on my own. We have caught a mikrolet or two together on the weekends, but never during the week. Mikrolets are privately owned but are the only equivalent of public transport in Timor. They are much cheaper than taxis at 10c a ride no matter how far or what time of day. Taxis cost $1 but more for longer journeys and in the evenings, prices double. In the back of the mikrolet are two seats running horizontal which seat 10-12 people; up to 2 people can sit in the front passenger seat next to the driver along with up to 5 men (never women) hanging out the open door. They are so small that you have to bend double to enter and exit and when seated my head just touches the roof while Daniel has to sit with his head bent forward. There are ten different routes in Dili and our route is number 10.

I had to wait for about 20 minutes or so because every mikrolet that passed was packed like a sardine tin including up to 5 young men standing in the doorway holding on for dear life. At least a dozen passed me before I could see a spare seat. So I got on a mikrolet and took my seat and felt uncomfortable as everyone stared at me but they soon got over the novelty of a “malae” in a mikrolet (most “malae” appear to have use of a private vehicle often given to them by the organisation they work for). We got to the roundabout at the turn off to the airport, which is about 1km from the stop closest to our house, and the mikrolet stopped and everyone got off. I was the only person left with three men and felt very uncomfortable. I didn’t understand what they were telling me but perhaps it was that they were going to get petrol or perhaps weren’t going all the way to Tasitolu, which they should have done. So I paid them my 10c got off and got on to another number 10 mikrolet that was going my way. Approaching my stop, I tapped my 10c coin on the rail above my head to indicate I wanted to get off, and as soon as I was standing on the side of the road and had paid my 10c fare, the passenger in the front seat next to the driver opened his door hard and right into my side. It bloody well hurt. He didn't say anything and just stared so I glared at him and said "deskulpa?" (sorry) and he parroted the words back to me. Everyone on the mikrolet laughed at me instead of asking if I was okay. I was so angry! I had to limp home down my street passing many little children who are all enthralled by the "malae" and just want me to say something to them. It was very difficult because I was in pain and very very angry. I managed however to say a few "botardes" (good afternoon). I am still bruised and sore. I have included a photo here of the bruise on my upper right thigh.

On Tuesday Daniel went to the Dili National Hospital and had a blood test to check for dengue fever. He had been feeling quite unwell during the day’s preceding and we thought it best to have it checked out. He received the results of the test the same afternoon. They did not show any dengue antibodies but there were other indications such as low platelet levels, which suggest a compromised immune system. On Thursday Daniel visited the Aussie doctor at the Australian Embassy compound. He thinks given Daniel’s blood test results, he probably either has a mild case of dengue fever (even though it did not show up in the results) or another mosquito borne disease we’d never heard of called chicken gania (sp?) which can only be confirmed by a lab in Australia. This morning on Radio Australia we heard about a dengue outbreak in Singapore that has already killed 8 people. Dengue is an emerging disease with no cure or medication to reduce symptoms. It has already arrived in the northern parts of Australia and is expected to move slowly southward as the country warms (thanks to global warming).

On Thursday night Daniel walked from his work to mine to meet me after my Tetun lesson. As he approached my work place, a female “asu” (dog) bit him on the ankle! He had noticed the dog but had passed it some way before it attacked. Our Tetun teacher went with us to the house where the dog lived to talk to the owner who turned out to be a very large man (physically and politically) (they do exist in Timor but tend to be confined to the upper echelons of society) and the Vice President of the Parliament of Timor! (similar to a Deputy Speaker in the Australian context). He asked what we wanted, probably expecting some form of compensation as is the norm in Timor, but our teacher explained that we just wanted an apology, and to inform him in case it had been a problem in the past and given there is a primary school opposite his house. So he said sorry in English and we left it at that. Of course there is no animal authority to report this incident to so the only ethical thing we could do was to report it to the owner. Thank goodness there is no rabies in Timor although Daniel has been vaccinated due to his previous stint in China where it is a problem. Daniel was very upset as he grew up around dogs, loves them and thinks himself a good judge of dog character.

When we arrived home, Daniel called our medical insurance company in Australia (which AVI pays for) to confirm that there is still no rabies in Timor, and to seek advice as to what to do about the two shallow puncture wounds in his left leg. They have a 24-hour customer care number, which we can call reverse charge and speak to a nurse or doctor. Daniel was transferred to nurse Tiffany whom he had spoken to previously in the day about his blood test and possible dengue diagnosis. Daniel was worried she might think he was a hypochondriac but she kept saying, “oh no, because of your ¨location¨ every incident carries a high risk and we take these matters very seriously!” She told him she would call him every day to check he was doing okay. (Daniel thinks this is a little over the top, despite liking the attention) My sister is also called Tiffany and we don’t often come across the name so Daniel finds it a little strange to be having a daily health update with nurse Tiffany!

There are so many young men on the streets of Dili that I find it quite intimidating. Women it would seem venture outside primarily in order to get from A to B. Men however, use the public sphere for their enjoyment. Half the population is under the age of 15 which for a “malae” from a country with an ageing population, is quite extraordinary. And you notice this fact everywhere you go: so many young people! Many many young men have peroxided hair and even little boy children. I was intrigued why this was so as I have yet to see a woman with peroxided hair and wondered the reason for the gender swap. My tetun teacher explained that a famous Japanese soccer player peroxided his hair, which started a trend in Timor, a soccer-loving nation, for men (and boys) to do the same.

There is rubbish everywhere with no recycling facilities and a limited garbage collection system. As a consequence, the ground water is often polluted which people rely on for drinking water and which then makes them sick. People are burning off leaves and rubbish en masse at the moment, which results in thick clouds of smoke across Dili. We have even started to notice the smell in our home as the people in our community (although not our immediate neighbours) are now burning off. There is absolutely no need for this but slash and burn polices both in urban and rural areas prevail. We endure the worst of it when being driven to and from work, as we have to drive on a major road, which is heavy with traffic, smog and smoke. The wet season is still about two months away and the burning off is only set to get worse.

Timor is not well endowed with natural resources and due to deforestation, 80% of the country is now shrubland. It is an incredibly degraded environment, which compromises people’s health and livelihoods, as 80% of the population are subsistence farmers. Most of the country has only a thin layer of unproductive soil, which is washed away during the wet season. Mostly, traditional land practices have degraded and continue to degrade the environment, and like those traditional practices concerning women and children, need to be challenged through evidenced based education (some farmers have implemented ingenious soil conservation methods but they are in the minority).^ [There has been an ongoing government campaign to reduce burning off and chopping down of trees but it appears not to be working.]

As there is so little native wildlife in Timor, I latch onto any bird calls I hear. In Ermera in the late afternoon I heard the call of a bird that sounded very similar to Australia’s whip bird which is one of my favourites. And when we’re at home, we sometimes hear the calls of birds and whenever I hear them, I stop whatever I’m doing so I can listen. It is a sign of the paucity of nature. When I think about it long enough, it induces in me a great sadness and my spirit sinks. No wonder the Timorese need their Catholicism! There is nothing left in nature to raise their spirits.

I have been shocked to see and learn how deleterious the traditional practices of this country are. I thought that the Timorese would have great wisdom and knowledge about many issues concerning their environment but this is mostly not the case. Which makes me think more about the work of Jarred Diamond who wrote the Pulitzer Prize winning Guns, Germs and Steel and Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Survive the latter of which Daniel is currently reading. Diamond has been criticised for being a racist as he does not believe that all indigenous communities knew or know how to preserve their environments better than modern peoples. He gives numerous examples in his books to show how many traditional societies ruined their environments and in this I would place the Timorese. Of course, saying this I do not deny the impact of colonialism, particularly the Portuguese who decimated the country of its sandalwood but much of the degradation is due to traditional practices.

Diamond writes of such facts not to give more credence to racists, but to show that it isn’t such a black and white issue, and as a critique of those in the West who have romanticised indigenous peoples land practices. He believes we need to learn from our past mistakes if our societies are to prosper. One only has to look at the incredible damage wreaked on New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina to see how modern peoples likewise are capable of such stupidity when it comes to their environment. For a deeply moving and compelling account of the environmental problems that the Americans have instituted in New Orleans and the ramifications due to global warming for other low lying cities around the world see Phillip Adams’ interview on Late Night Live.

There is a major river (the Cormoro) in Dili, which begins in the mountains of Timor and flows out to the sea. We cross this river to and from work every day and we are always greeted by the sight of hundreds of men mining the riverbed for construction materials. They take advantage during the dry season, as during the wet, it becomes a torrent of water. Even though I pass over this riverbed twice a day, I still think the scene is very Third World and reminds me of a poster a former manager I had while working in London had hanging in his office. It was a photo of South American (perhaps Brazilian?) men hauling up huge rocks from a quarry. The men were jam packed together climbing up out of the pit. My manager kept this framed print on his wall to remind him of how lucky he was and how many people around the world lead very tough lives. Moreover, that when things were getting difficult at work or he was taking things too seriously, he would look at the print and this would bring him back to a more calm space.

This morning we went for a 1.5 hour walk to Tasitolu Peace Park. Just before we left the beach to cross the road to the park, I caught sight of the most beautiful turquoise coloured kingfisher sitting on a reef. It was just stunning. I tried to get closer but it kept flying off and settling further away. I followed it for a while until it was clear that I was not going to get any closer. It was so beautiful. I had seen a kingfisher previously on Atauro Island upon leaving when we were driven in a truck back to the boat and we passed a small marshy area where one was sitting on a rock. That sighting was very brief. At the park we saw the usual goats, kids, pigs, and piglets and cattle and also four adult water buffalo and a juvenile. We’ve never seen buffalo at the park before so it was quite a sight. There are still not that many birds around although there was a small flock of pelicans. It’s amazing how spending time in nature (no matter how degraded) can lift one’s spirits. I have included a photo of the Park here.

Above: Tasitolu Peace Park - Tasi (sea) tolu (3) refers to the three large lakes and is also the name of the ¨suburb¨ nearby, the last you pass through when leaving Dili to the west. We expect the park to be far more alive during the wet season when it becomes home to migratory birds from many far flung places.

We’ve managed to watch a number of the DVD’s we purchased last month although we have experienced quite a few technical difficulties in the process. I struggled to enjoy The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy but Daniel liked it. I Heart Huckabees was a really quirky and funny film but the DVD packed up on us about 20 minutes from the end and no matter how many other computers we try and play it in, it just won’t work! We may have to purchase another copy. Team America: World Police, by the makers of South Park, which I love, was a big disappointment although it had some funny moments. Just a Question of Love, a French film about a young gay man which wasn’t that great and was compounded by the fact that the sound followed the actual mouthing of the words so that the next person ended up saying the lines of the previous person! Suffice to say, at times it was very hard to follow. The Upside of Anger an American mainstream film that was surprisingly good. The Manchurian Candidate, a remake of the original, starring Meryl Streep and Denzel Washington was well made and acted, very unnerving, even creepy and a little concerning given we may already be headed down the road of the president of the most powerful nation being owned and controlled by a transnational corporation. The current one just doesn’t have a computer chip in his brain controlling his every action, although it might help with his reading skills! The best DVDs we have watched continue to be our weekly dose of The L Word. We are tempted to watch more than one episode a week but as there are only 13 episodes, we want to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible.

I’m now reading Margaret Atwood’s The Blind Assassin, which won her the Booker Prize. Admittedly I got one third of the way through a couple of years ago but gave up on it. It’s a bit easier to read the second time around as I’m not so confused and I’m now enjoying it.

According to our Travelling Well handbook, we are in the second stage of Culture Shock: disappointment (I don’t think I ever went through the first stage of excitement). I think it will take us a long time to get to the third and final stage of adjustment.


^ United Nations Development Program, East Timor Human Development Report 2002, p.19
* ibid., p.78
# RDTL, ADB, JICA, UNDP, UNICEF, UNMISET, WB, Timor-Leste: Poverty in a New Nation, Analysis for Action, p. xv
> ibid., p. xiii

Category: Timor-Leste (East Timor)