DiliBound

A final look at Ateuro Island before the much too exciting trip back to Dili and our work at St. Michael's School. I still think they're "gonna need a much bigger boat!"

FarewellToParadise

A day on Ateuro Island was far too short, but I'm afraid the boat trip over from Dili is so harrowing that it may be our last visit there. It was time to go back to sorting books and building book shelves for the library at St Michael's School.

ASurpriseTourGuideInAteuro

Ambling along the trails through the island of Ateuro, we discovered a neat small village of about 12 houses as well as a school and church. We met a young man who spoke English and found that he taught English on the island to both school kids and adults for free. We later sent supplies to him to support his teaching efforts and hope to stay in touch whenever we are in Timor.

TheFreshestCoconutsYouWillEverHave

On Artuero Island we discovered a family grinding fresh coconuts to extract the oil for cooking. Doug mentioned that he loved fresh coconut milk and, before we knew it, folding chairs were pulled out for us and a young man with a massive machete was wrapped around a coconut tree, saying a prayer, before climbing up to hack down coconuts for Doug. I think it would be fair to say that it will never get any fresher than having someone climb up and chop them down for you. We convinced one kid to carry five back for us and Doug was in heaven.

TheStressOfIslandLiving

Getting into a hammock is actually harder than it looks - but once you are there - you just don't want to get out!

OceanSleepingOnArteuroIsland

This is where we spent the night, looking over the ocean and horizon. You wake to the sounds of the local fisherman going out.

PickingAnIslandHome

There were about 8 thatched houses from which to choose as well as 6 small open air pavillions directly on the beach where you could sleep overlooking the ocean and stars. We picked one of each, which I am sure drove the staff crazy. They worked overtime putting in mosquito nets in both the hut and pavillion.

ArtueroIslandAndParadiseFound

The travel agent who arranged our trip and stay on Artuero Island told us that if we went on a weekend we would probably have to share accomodations with folks who work in Dili during the week and vacation there on the weekend. We decided to go on a week day and a smart decision it was. We had the entire place to ourselves and could pick any or all the cabins and sleeping accomodations that we wanted. Even Barry was gone to return for a visit to his homeland Australia. For me it was paradise. Doug is more sociable than I am and I'm sure he missed having fellow travelers. For me, it was like owning a private island.

WeAreGonnaNeedABiggerBoat

This phrase from "Jaws" has a significant meaning for me, now that Doug and I took a boat to visit the Island of Artuero. You can see the island from the shoreline of Dili and we finally scheduled a boat to take us for an overnight visit. You don't hit the big waves until you are quite a distance from the shore and then it is too late. The waves were so large that when the boat hit a trough it felt like the boat had been dropped onto a concrete driveway. We white knuckled all the way to the island and were completely soaked upon arrival. My camera is history, so many of the photos in the blog dealing with the second trip to Timor-Leste are thanks to Doug.
It is not a good sign when you arrive at the island and four men are carrying the island's only generator to meet your boat. While we were there no one had any electricity, which meant the only cold drinks were a few beers left in the hotel cooler. Worked for me!

TheAmazingPrincipalOfStMichaelsSchool

The school where we work, St Michaels, was founded and is lead by Mr. Crisna, one of the hardest working men I have met. He rises at 4 am and is at the school until 11 pm. He seemes to be everywhere at once, organzing the kids, counseling one on one, taking the marching band through its drills, working with contractors to build a wing on the school, encouraging the builders, meeting with the Rotary club that supports the schools efforts, etc. And yet, he always seems to have time to welcome Doug and me to the school.It is exhausting just watching him in action.
Mr Crisna is in the photo on the right. He is with one of the teachers, waiting for the body of St. Bosco to arrive at the Dili Airport.

WaitingForTheBodyOfStDomBoscoToArrive

During our last visit to Timor-Leste, the Pope (or "Papa" as he is called by the locals) decided that the body of St. Dom Bosco should be flown around the world to visit local schools that have been named for him. St Bosco was famous for helping needy kids receive an education and the visit was a way of recognizing the efforts of schools named after him. St Michael's, the school where we are working, was selected to be one of the schools participating in the ceremony to welcome the body when it arrived at the airport in Dili. Mr Crisna, the principal,took this honor very seriously and had the students in the various marching groups (band, drum majorettes, etc.) practicing in the streets around the school every day for weeks. Just as a reminder - it is a million degrees there every day and almost all of the uniforms have long trousers, long sleeves, and various layers of very hot clothing. Even the girls with short skirts have to wear pantyhose
On the day of the scheduled arrival Doug and I were invited to be there so that I could cover the arrival in my blog. We arrived late, but fortunately the body was late also. The 50+ kids in hot uniforms, waited along with us for hours in the blazing heat until we were told that St Bosco's plane was delayed for several hours in Indonesia. We took advantage of the delay to go somewhere to get cool, but the kids waited. When we returned we were told about another delay. At some point, with all the delays, we gave up the quest to see the arrival of St Bosco and called it a day. We learned later that the body arrived after 7 pm. The kids (and Mr. Crisna) had been waiting out in the sun for over 10 hours. The body lay in state in Dili for one day before being transported to a small town several hours drive out of Dili. The kids were transported in open air trucks to be with the body during its three day stay there.
Having been raised Lutheran and not Catholic, I wanted to understand the rationale for St Bosco's world wide trip. "It is because Papa wanted it," I was told by a local.

TheTrulyScareyBeaurocracyOfTimor

Not being able to find butter is an annoyance, but we found out how truly frightening the Island's beaurocracy can be when we visited our local favorite restaurant, the Ocean View. It is a five minute walk to our favorite restaurant from the Arbiru where we live. It is a huge open air pavillion on the beach, with excellent food and drinks and a good chance to run into someone we know. It sometimes has live entertainment or we may find ourselves invited to a private fundction there. In the dark with no street lights, we usually wind our way through the herds of goats lying on the pavement of the road, the baby pigs running around, and the locals sitting on the road peering into the shack that has a local soap opera playing on the cable TV inside.
One day we walked down to the restaurant for lunch as usual. As we were sitting there eating, we noticed that an entire side of the building was missing! Actually, it wasn't just missing - it was completely demolished as if a cyclone had hit it. We later found out that the government had come in and completely demolished it becuase the owner had not had all of the paperwork approved correctly. Yikes!
The owner was trying to add a kitchen and bathrooms to the pavillion. To add insult to injury he was also told that he would have to tear down the entire retaurant in 10 days. When we left, negotiations were looking good and we are hoping that our favorite restaurant will be there when we return.

TheManWhoMadeItAllPossible

This is Daisy aka Daryl, the leader of the Dili Hash House Harriers who opened the door for Doug and I to survive and actually contribute during our stay in Dili. Daryl is also the leader of the Rotary Club in Dili. Through Doug's Brother-in-Law in Sydney, Australia, we made the connection with Daryl, and on our second day in Dili, we found ourselves working at St. Michael's School. Equally important was that he invited us to the Harriers where we immediately became part of the 50+ members of the group. It opened the door to a social network, but in a third world country it also gives you an important network needed for basic survival. The Hashers look out for each other in every way possible. Doug and I feel lucky to be a part of this incredible support network, thanks to Daryl. Daryl wears this red outfit only for the yearly Red Dress Run to raise money for the local Red Cross, (at least as far as I know!) PS Go Pies!

DontYouHateItWhen

Don't you hate it when your date looks better in his dress than you do in yours??? This is Doug and moi during the Hashers' Red Dress Run in Dili, Timor-Leste. The group raised about $1,000 for the local Red Cross and greatly amused the locals who watch the race every year

FriendsInDiliSteveAndKaris

Two wonderful people from the Hash House Harriers seem to have adopted us and I can't imagine how we would have survived without their help. There is so much you need to know to survive in a country like Timor and both Steve and Karis have a lifetime of experience living and working in third world countries. On our last night in Timor, they had us over for dinner and Karis cooked a meal that was better than any restaurant could have created. This is a remarkable feat, but even more remarkable when you understand how difficult it is to find specific foods in Timor. The entire month that we were there, a ship was within view, waiting for the paperwork to be approved to allow it to unload its cargo in Dili. You could look out and see the ship that had the butter and cheese that you couldn't find at the stores. There was almost a riot when a group of us fought for the last of the butter to be found (I scored one package and ran!).
In the photo, Steve and Karis are in their best red dresses for the Hash House Harrier's Red Dress Run that every year raises money for the Red Cross and convinces the locals that yes, the Malays (foreigners) truly are crazy.

HashHouseHarriersRedDressRun

Most of our time in Timor is dedicated to work at the school, but Saturday afternoon always belongs to the Hash House Harriers - the "drinking group with a running problem," made up of foreigners and some locals who work in charity organizations throughout Timor. Once a year, the group sponsors a Red Dress Run where everyone (even the most macho Policeman types from Australia), dons red dresses, make-up and purses, and runs through the streets of Dili, to raise money for the Red Cross.

OurContributionToStMichaelsSchool

A simple plan created in the US or Australia becomes something else in Timor. It will take trips to a dozen hardware stores to find any tools or supplies close to what you need, and then any instructions are in Chinese. Prices quoted to "Malay" (foreigners) are multiples of prices quoted to locals, so we would ultimately call on Juliao, the exraordinary young Timorese man who speaks perfect English, Tetun. Portuguese, and Indonesian. Juliao (pronounced Julio) became our friend, translater,finder and negotiator, despite having 2 real full-time jobs. Two days before we left, we finished our project of completing this first part of a library for the school, with the completion promised for our next trip in mid-May.

TimorLesteRedux

It took about 3 seconds for Doug and I to fall into the rythm of the city of Timor-Leste. Gone this time was the nervousness of entering a mysterious place with no knowledge of the people, language, culture, or what we were getting into. The wet heat that scorches you when you walk outside the plane seems to have a hypnotic effect. You walk slower, move and think at a pace that feels like walking through syrup. It is now taken for granted that the rental car guy isn't waiting for you as promised. You know that you will have to call him, that it will take half the morning to complete the paperwork for a rental car for which there is no insurance coverage. We now know how to dodge the potholes that have grown larger in our absence. People have been creative though and one pothole has a tree in it and another has 2 tires to warn drivers. The top 4 inches of the tires show above the edge of the street,demonstrating to drivers just how deep the hole is. "Welcome home to Timor-Leste" - and we are actually glad to be back to this Alice in Wonderland place, that for another month, we will call home.

HomeAgainAndAncientMemoriesOfJapan

Another 30 hour trip home and trying to get back into a regular sleep cycle, I gave in and started watching TV, waiting for sleep. The TV was on CNN and there unbelievably was live coverage of the tsunami hitting Japan. I watched helplessly as in real time, an entire city was erased. Now I can't seem to stop watching the CNN coverage and it is bringing back memories of when my family lived in Japan a lifetime ago. We couldn't find Army housing, so we lived for a time in a genuine Japanese home in a mountain village where we were the first foreigners any of the locals had seen. The 2 years there are some of the best memories of my childhood. Everyone was incredibly gracious and accepting of us, despite the fact that my Brother and I were wild hellions let lose on the world. I remember the gentleness and kindness and the days of exploring the beautiful and exotic bamboo forests with the local kids. We lived in Yokahama, not one of the areas destroyed by the tsunami, but the memories of living there have made the losses in Japan seem more personal. I watch the grace and strength of the people trying to recover from unspeakable devastation and wish that I could be there. The faces I see on CNN become the faces of those who showed two American kids so much kindness. Now It's my turn....