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October 22, 2005
The Flight of October
I can't believe it is almost the end of October. I am stunned, really, and I can't remember the last time my days have seemed so short. In any case, I am back after my 15-hour adventure on the ferry from the enclave of East Timor in West Timor (go look closely at a map of Timor if you have no idea what I am talking about), and have some pictures:
1) Oecusse central -- also known as some random rice fields I decided to take a picture of. 
2) A random hut made out of rusted tin. And no, I don't know what is spray painted on it. 
3) A mountain about a 20 minute drive outside of the center of Oecusse. Now, this picture, I should tell with a story. See, I wanted to snap some quick photos of the landscape as the rains come rolling in over the hills, so I decided to walk on the way back to my hotel after going to the market. I had noticed that the microlet ride to the market had been long, but I didn't realize how long. The entire way back to my hotel, people by the side of the road kept telling me that I shouldn't be walking, and that I should take a car. Brushing them off, I continued to walk ... for two and a half hours. Lesson: listen to the people who have watched silly foreigners walk their legs to dust before.
4) A pretty little hut on a pretty little beach in Oecusse. I swear, I was there for work. 
5) Lots, and lots of pitcures taken from the ferry as it was leaving. These need no explaination. Foreinger + boat + camera = a headache for the captain who doesn't want people scampering up above deck where only the crew are supposed to go. Oops. I didn't like that rule, and I WANTED my pictures. It's a good thing he thought it was cute that I spoke Tetun. 
Yeah, that's all for now. I'm gonna go sleep. Got in at 5:30 am and couldn't really crash then because when I came back to the house, it looked like it'd been attacked by a zillion locusts or something. I mean really, couldn't the bug outbreak wait until I was rested from my trip!?!
Posted by storbert at 4:52 AM | Comments (1)
October 15, 2005
Vacation Plans, Baby
I have been bad about updating the blog â€" mostly because I don't have any really good stories to relate. I got burned last weekend and have been peeling and cursing myself ever since (and I am definitely NOT taking any pictures of that). I also (drumroll, everyone) booked a ticket to THAILAND. Yes, that's right folks, little old me is going to Thailand, and it is going to rule. I'm going to visit Tess (who also has her own blog) eat some really good food, and try not to cause any international incidents. Anyways â€" I'm off to a little enclave of East Timor, located (ironically enough) in Indonesian West Timor for five days, but should come back a sane person with many amazing photos.
Peace.
Posted by storbert at 8:45 PM | Comments (1)
October 5, 2005
... and I'm getting sappy
.. don't kill me I know this is silly.
"Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in." â€" Ricky Fitts, American Beauty
It's one of my favorite lines from a movie [and yes, I do know that it makes me a sap]. I assume that everyone has moments where they can finally relate, and if they don't then they need to get out of the house. Mine came for two straight days on yet another trip for work into the districts. Trust me, I am not on any euphoric high about Timor right now. I am often tired and getting cynical, when it seems that nothing can revive your faith in the dust, heat, trash-filled streets littered with men with nothing to do but leer at foreigners. But the land here can. Timor is more than anything, a spectacular land. I truly understand why they are proud of it â€" I am proud even to live here for a year. The photos I took barely do it justice, but I am going to try and tell the story will as little reliance on the photos as possible.
The trip starts out by climbing into the steep hills around Dili, and from there you can see it's not just you that feels crowded. Dili IS crowded, and big, even though after four months living there it is beginning to feel incredibly small. But from there the road twists and turns and does its best to make your breakfast come back out, and then the world transforms completely.
The first day, on the way to a town called Ainaro, I saw what my imagination had once told me Timor would look like. Tucked in the hills are the most picturesque villages imaginable. Children play in tumbling streams, waving ecstatically to the passing SUVs, and grass huts are tucked in nooks of rocks. Immaculately-tended rows of crops stripe the rolling to physics-defying steep hills, and women wrapped in gold, orange and green tais (locally-made cloth) walk like acrobats on narrow red-earth paths between villages. Here, the world doesn't smell of body-odor, rotting garbage, or animal feces, but smells like deep-forest moss and mulch. Every now and then brilliant vermillion and bright purple trees dot the landscape. Coffee plants cluster under trees with wide-arms that made the sun retreat to dots, and occasionally someone will have felled a palm tree and you can smell the sticky-sweet pulp. It was exactly what I needed to clean my soul.
But nothing this beautiful can be without history. As we were driving out from Ainaro, the guys (who had previously been telling running jokes about farm animals in the street), started telling me about a particular cliff. Turns out, this is the grave for countless victims of the Indonesian occupation. Elvio, my co-worker, gets out and leads me to the edge. As I walk along, snapping pictures, he explains they call this place the 'Jakara' of Timor, as people would be piled into trucks and led here to 'go to school in Jakarta', and then would be pushed off …
[Me following Elio to the edge of Jakarta]
[... and then looking down ...]
Elsewhere, reminders are in the form of the burnt-out hulks of villages …
Or the casings of bombs …
The relics of a Portuguese pasada, perched on the top of a hillside where the Portuguese used to reign …
Ever after seeing all of this, though â€" you can't help but wonder how it is that hope springs eternal. Case and point: the building of a traditional house outside of Aileu::
... all in all, all I can say is, is ... that was an awesome trip.
Posted by storbert at 7:03 PM | Comments (1)
October 1, 2005
This Entry has No Subject
Last night, Kim, the one-woman finance wonder, left us at the office. Her parting was indeed tragic, and I felt it exceedingly â€" as it is incredible to have someone who makes it her job to make everyone else's job easier. I'm praying she decides to come back. This of course, just had to come at the end of a week running against the clock of a not-so-happy nose [more specifically, a sinus infection and splitting sinus headache]. I have little to say, other than that antibiotics are still one of mankind's best inventions. And when walking places in blistering hot sun, I would recommend having a personal soundtrack of the Doves.
Other random stories: the lady at my favorite local hole-in-the-wall restaurant finally asked my name. I was so touched I almost hugged her, and then I remembered I am an American. Her name is Nelsin, and she seems quite contented that 'Mana Bo'ot' now has become 'Mana Salee'. I think this must be classified by some anthropologist somewhere as a right of passage. And if it isn't, then I need to file a complaint somewhere. Its damn cool.
Posted by storbert at 12:21 AM | Comments (1)