More from Chris in East Timor!
My dear friends, family and one-time acquaintances,
Bonoite from Dili!It’s been too long since my last email.
I got a text message the other day asking how I was going in Indonesia. (I will not mention names – you know who you are!) I’m actually in East Timor, and to that person… I’m great. I’m very safe, and the CER community is being very sensible about all decisions.
Word has it that East Timor’s been on the news lately in Australia. I myself haven’t seen the news much in the last four weeks as I’ve been hiding up in the mountain villages as far from all the destruction as I can get.
It's my first night in Dili for nearly a month and I sit here typing in such a different atmosphere to that which I wrote in last time;
The population of Dili has more than halved, planes and helicopters are flying closer and more often than at Daryl Kerrigan’s house, and Aussie tanks have taken to the streets.
It has been so sad to drive through the capital and see so many burnt out buildings, destroyed markets and empty streets. Even a trip to our local restaurant to pick up dinner was quite depressing, as many of the shops on the way quite near to us that I’ve so often seen open and busy are now rubble, much the same way it was after ‘99.
The streets are mostly deserted, except for Aussie / NZ and Malay troops that have become quite a dominant presence. On the way into Dili we went through both Malaysian and Australian police checks, and it was certainly good to hear a decent Aussie accent.
The internally displaced persons count is well into the thousands, and having driven past so many churches and IDP camps, its obvious that conditions are not too great, with these thousands having to sleep on hard cold floors, some without roofs over their heads.
So many families are struggling to get a decent meal, as trade has almost halted between Dili and the outside world. But somehow, most people have managed to find joy in their lives, no matter how they’re living.In my several weeks up in the mountains I spent a few nights at the Headmaster’s place in Seloi where I teach (40min drive from where I normally stay). I’ve got memories of sitting round the radio for hours, hearing govt figures speaking, death tolls coming in along with any bits of news about the changing situation in Dili.
One of my favourites would be when those with whom I was listening heard that Aussie troops were on their way, and they all jumped up and started dancing, with kids clapping and singing that Australians are coming to save East Timor.
Other nights while I was sleeping, many of the men stayed up the whole night watching the Aussie planes circling the skies.
Most of the people I talk to about the current situation are old enough to remember the events of 1999, and some were around for similar scenes in 1975. I’ve been lucky enough to hear quite a few of their stories, yet many are saying that what’s going on now is much worse because its divided the country into two and most predict it will takes years to resolve.
But in their usual way, most have remained positive. One of the teachers told me that when Timor is in trouble, they get through it together (Ben Lee can vouch for that!), and so they took me in without any question and laughed when I tried to thank them for their hospitality, saying “You’re one of us now, you’re Timorese. You don’t need to say thank you.”
In the villages of Railako and Seloi, most families have taken in extended family from Dili, some trying to cope with up to 20 people in the one house. But they do it, cos they know that we’re all in this together.
Even though they’re all so far away from everything in Dili, they’re feeling the effects when it comes to food shortages (due to lack of trade) and, in particular, much worry for family and friends in Dili or other troubled areas. Some haven’t heard from their husbands for weeks, as many are in hiding elsewhere.But its become obvious that those in the mountains are the luckiest of everyone in the country as they don’t rely on jobs or money to buy food at shops (of which few are open), as they have their own gardens rich in fruit n veggies and coffee, and they only hear about all that’s going on elsewhere in the country, without being exposed to it.
School hasn’t really been happening, as many are either too scared to go, are out picking coffee or helping or in the rice fields, or don’t have classes as teachers are also not coming. But there’s been plenty of things to do in the meantime. Most days I’ve been out helping to pick coffee (in Railako) or helping with the rice production (in Seloi). I’ve started English lessons for the kids in Railako, and because many haven’t had school, they’re all very keen, and attendance has been better than most normal school days. I’ve also had a few requests from adults to start lessons for them, so will hopefully get them up and running soon as well.
Restoration of Independence Day (May 20) was a big day, with parades, a flag raising ceremony, and games of soccer between villages.
The kids had practiced marching for two days with no classes, and so performed their role perfectly on the day. The Primary School kids sang the national anthem, and speeches were made by all.
I was chosen to play for Seloi in the Soccer Grand Final, and scored the opening goal. Just before half-time the ball suddenly deflated and, not having another ball in the village, the game finished with Seloi 3-2 up.
I was lucky enough to go to two dances that night… one in Railako and another in Seloi. I spent most of the time hiding my poor dancing skills and doing the ‘sidestep’ with the little kids, but a few poor girls were unfortunate enough to walk away with sore toes.
Around 1 am, the tape player ran out of batteries, but after quick fundraising saw $1.50 donated by all (a good lot of money here!) the dance made it through to the next day. So amazing to watch.
Everyday I’m inspired at the way the Timorese kids can have so much fun in a seemingly difficult situation.
Those living in the mountains have warmly welcomed countless kids from outside Railako into the community. I’ll never get sick of watching (or playing) games with the community (aged from 1 to 20 [me]) as the sun sets every day! Or the way that while picking coffee they’ll all just randomly break out into song. I’ve taught them some Ben Lee, so often you’ll hear someone in a neighbouring coffee garden singing loudly “So pleeeease, baby pleeeease. Open your HEAAAART…”.
While it breaks my heart and makes me so angry to hear about the pointless destruction and deaths that are going on in the country, it’s hard not to stay positive amongst people who live in the now and make the most of every moment.
Thank you for all the text messages of concern. Know that I'm always staying safe and am in good hands. Please continue to pray that things will sort themselves out quickly and painlessly for this beautiful country.
With all the Timorese love I can gather (plenty of it!),
Chris(still in East Timor, not Indonesia)
Bonoite from Dili!It’s been too long since my last email.
I got a text message the other day asking how I was going in Indonesia. (I will not mention names – you know who you are!) I’m actually in East Timor, and to that person… I’m great. I’m very safe, and the CER community is being very sensible about all decisions.
Word has it that East Timor’s been on the news lately in Australia. I myself haven’t seen the news much in the last four weeks as I’ve been hiding up in the mountain villages as far from all the destruction as I can get.
It's my first night in Dili for nearly a month and I sit here typing in such a different atmosphere to that which I wrote in last time;
The population of Dili has more than halved, planes and helicopters are flying closer and more often than at Daryl Kerrigan’s house, and Aussie tanks have taken to the streets.
It has been so sad to drive through the capital and see so many burnt out buildings, destroyed markets and empty streets. Even a trip to our local restaurant to pick up dinner was quite depressing, as many of the shops on the way quite near to us that I’ve so often seen open and busy are now rubble, much the same way it was after ‘99.
The streets are mostly deserted, except for Aussie / NZ and Malay troops that have become quite a dominant presence. On the way into Dili we went through both Malaysian and Australian police checks, and it was certainly good to hear a decent Aussie accent.
The internally displaced persons count is well into the thousands, and having driven past so many churches and IDP camps, its obvious that conditions are not too great, with these thousands having to sleep on hard cold floors, some without roofs over their heads.
So many families are struggling to get a decent meal, as trade has almost halted between Dili and the outside world. But somehow, most people have managed to find joy in their lives, no matter how they’re living.In my several weeks up in the mountains I spent a few nights at the Headmaster’s place in Seloi where I teach (40min drive from where I normally stay). I’ve got memories of sitting round the radio for hours, hearing govt figures speaking, death tolls coming in along with any bits of news about the changing situation in Dili.
One of my favourites would be when those with whom I was listening heard that Aussie troops were on their way, and they all jumped up and started dancing, with kids clapping and singing that Australians are coming to save East Timor.
Other nights while I was sleeping, many of the men stayed up the whole night watching the Aussie planes circling the skies.
Most of the people I talk to about the current situation are old enough to remember the events of 1999, and some were around for similar scenes in 1975. I’ve been lucky enough to hear quite a few of their stories, yet many are saying that what’s going on now is much worse because its divided the country into two and most predict it will takes years to resolve.
But in their usual way, most have remained positive. One of the teachers told me that when Timor is in trouble, they get through it together (Ben Lee can vouch for that!), and so they took me in without any question and laughed when I tried to thank them for their hospitality, saying “You’re one of us now, you’re Timorese. You don’t need to say thank you.”
In the villages of Railako and Seloi, most families have taken in extended family from Dili, some trying to cope with up to 20 people in the one house. But they do it, cos they know that we’re all in this together.
Even though they’re all so far away from everything in Dili, they’re feeling the effects when it comes to food shortages (due to lack of trade) and, in particular, much worry for family and friends in Dili or other troubled areas. Some haven’t heard from their husbands for weeks, as many are in hiding elsewhere.But its become obvious that those in the mountains are the luckiest of everyone in the country as they don’t rely on jobs or money to buy food at shops (of which few are open), as they have their own gardens rich in fruit n veggies and coffee, and they only hear about all that’s going on elsewhere in the country, without being exposed to it.
School hasn’t really been happening, as many are either too scared to go, are out picking coffee or helping or in the rice fields, or don’t have classes as teachers are also not coming. But there’s been plenty of things to do in the meantime. Most days I’ve been out helping to pick coffee (in Railako) or helping with the rice production (in Seloi). I’ve started English lessons for the kids in Railako, and because many haven’t had school, they’re all very keen, and attendance has been better than most normal school days. I’ve also had a few requests from adults to start lessons for them, so will hopefully get them up and running soon as well.
Restoration of Independence Day (May 20) was a big day, with parades, a flag raising ceremony, and games of soccer between villages.
The kids had practiced marching for two days with no classes, and so performed their role perfectly on the day. The Primary School kids sang the national anthem, and speeches were made by all.
I was chosen to play for Seloi in the Soccer Grand Final, and scored the opening goal. Just before half-time the ball suddenly deflated and, not having another ball in the village, the game finished with Seloi 3-2 up.
I was lucky enough to go to two dances that night… one in Railako and another in Seloi. I spent most of the time hiding my poor dancing skills and doing the ‘sidestep’ with the little kids, but a few poor girls were unfortunate enough to walk away with sore toes.
Around 1 am, the tape player ran out of batteries, but after quick fundraising saw $1.50 donated by all (a good lot of money here!) the dance made it through to the next day. So amazing to watch.
Everyday I’m inspired at the way the Timorese kids can have so much fun in a seemingly difficult situation.
Those living in the mountains have warmly welcomed countless kids from outside Railako into the community. I’ll never get sick of watching (or playing) games with the community (aged from 1 to 20 [me]) as the sun sets every day! Or the way that while picking coffee they’ll all just randomly break out into song. I’ve taught them some Ben Lee, so often you’ll hear someone in a neighbouring coffee garden singing loudly “So pleeeease, baby pleeeease. Open your HEAAAART…”.
While it breaks my heart and makes me so angry to hear about the pointless destruction and deaths that are going on in the country, it’s hard not to stay positive amongst people who live in the now and make the most of every moment.
Thank you for all the text messages of concern. Know that I'm always staying safe and am in good hands. Please continue to pray that things will sort themselves out quickly and painlessly for this beautiful country.
With all the Timorese love I can gather (plenty of it!),
Chris(still in East Timor, not Indonesia)
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