The Adventures of Takako the Danger Librarian 5 January 2002: "The Holiday Vortex and the People Who Help Me Cope" It's been a while since I wrote an installment -- work got busy, and I actually started to have a Life here, so to speak. I thought that, instead of trying to cover the happenings of the past month or so, I would do some sketches of the people that I have come to know, the people who form a part of my daily life, starting with those around my current abode. When I first moved to the Loro Sae Dili Hotel, the managers were two Kiwis, Alan and Kaye. They have since moved on, having had their fill of running a hotel/restaurant in Dili, and they are currently back home in New Zealand. They are going to be back for a week or so to see whether they can get some other kind of work here, but if not, I heard they would move onto Australia to look for something to do. Alan used to be in the New Zealand army. They're both very spirited and gregarious, with a great sense of humour. From the stories they've told, it seems they have lived a varied and interesting life - working in mines in the Outback of Australia being part of it. While they were indeed very happy to be able to leave the hotel and go home, at least for a while, I think they left with some really good experiences here. A couple weeks before Christmas, they planned, and volunteered select hotel guests, to host a party for all their Timorese staff. We served dinner to the people who usually take care of us -- the roomboys, the laundrymen, the front desk people, the kitchen and dining room staff. One of the guests, Bo, was a professional chef in a past life, and he prepared potato salad and cole slaw (I helped peel and cut the potatoes), and the men prepared a barbecue. We all had a wonderful time, but the moment that will remain with me will be when one of the dining room waitstaff, a young girl named Belinia, stood talking to Kaye with tears in her eyes -- both of them, come to think of it -- and it moved me to tears, too. The Kiwi couple who've taken over from them, John and Rosie, are a bit more reserved, but they have also done some interesting things. The last job they had had was running a pub in England somewhere. John said that in November, they had been looking forward to spending a white Christmas in the U.K.; and look where they were now! So far, they seem to be enjoying the newness of the place, and they are very responsive and responsible people. Rob, a 36-year-old Australian, helps the managers out occasionally and is currently on holiday back in his hometown of Perth. He has also lived in all sorts of exotic and dangerous places like Cambodia and Vietnam. And at that young age, he already has two ex-wives, with two kids from his second marriage. He loves his kids, and it sounds like he misses them a lot. He is also planning on moving on eventually; he has said he has a job in Afghanistan starting in February. He also has a great sense of humour. One day, he asked me whether I'd tried out the swimming pool in the back yet. It's just a big stand-alone pool, not one that's actually built into the ground. I asked how often they changed the water, and he just said it was treated chemically every couple days. I asked half-seriously whether my hair would turn green, and he said, "No, but it'll make your hair fall out." To get that, you also have to know that Rob has very little hair, and what he does have is very closely shaved. ;-) I'm looking forward to seeing him again when he comes back, as he's very fun to spend time with. Duane is an older Canadian man from Alberta. He's a bit gruff, and a bit contrary, too. He seems to like dogs a lot, as does his family back home. He showed us a bunch of pictures his family had sent him the other night, and one of the pics showed one of his grown daughters hanging out with at least four dogs. His wife used to work in a kennel, and now she has a little a dog-sitting service running informally out of their house. He also has a bit of a paternalistic streak in him -- he likes to take care of people, and always offers assistance of one kind or another whenever people are in need. Teresa is half-Portuguese, half something else (European of some stripe, I think). She's middle-aged, a bit stout with graying hair, with eyes that sparkle with humour and energy. She tells a mean dirty joke (or two), and seems passionate about life in general. She works for the Constituent Assembly that was elected last August. I find spending time with her both energizing and challenging, as she puts all of herself into every conversation. Bo, the former chef, is a large early-middle-aged gay Swedish man with a raunchy sense of humour but also with a bit of a philosophical bent. He has a sweetheart back home that he talks to on the phone twice a day, like clockwork. (I thought that was cute) He went home to Sweden to be with him for the holidays, and I look forward to seeing him again. There are a few more regulars around the "Captain's Table" -- Dallas, whose parents are John and Rosie and had introduced them to the hotel owner; Jo (short for Joanne), an Aussie girl with a wicked sense of humour; Mark-the-Aussie-rasta-guy (with full-on dreadlocks!); Jim, the Scottish Australian who seems to like my singing (!). There are also Phil and Greg, two Aussie guys who occasionally show up for dinner and/or beer, and Gary, an owner of a local hamburger joint which I haven't visited yet (Rob said he would take me there eventually). Being a daughter of a former owner of a burger joint, I am very interested in giving the place a try. :) At work, within my office, I tend to work mostly with Yasmeen, but there are a few lawyers and others who make it a habit to seek me out for help looking for documents and other information, and otherwise work closer with me than others. JamesM, who has since moved on to the DSRSG's office (that's "Deputy Special Representative of the Secretary-General"), was a quiet Aussie lawyer with a subtle sense of humour who spoke in the neighbourhood of five languages (including a smattering of Japanese!). He sends me an occasional email with a question or two, usually fairly straightforward ones that are fun to do. Nathalie is a lawyer from Cameroon, and while she speaks English quite well, she is naturally much more comfortable working in French. I try to use French with her as much as I can, and she helps me along. (A little sidenote -- francophone Africans, both here and in New York, have been extremely helpful in improving and maintaining my French language skills.) There's JamesC, the Aussie Indonesian translator who drives a motorcycle and smokes like a chimney. He likes to use my office door to get outside for his frequent cigarette breaks. Blond, blue eyes, with a major mischievous streak, he has done a lot of work for NGOs in Indonesia, and one of his hidden talents is building databases. He has been helping me with a project developing a database to administer the distribution of the Official Gazettes, as well as telling me whether I've found the correct law when I am researching Indonesian legislation. I also found out he's a bit of a science fiction fan, and so we occasionally chat about that when I feel the need to step outside for a few minutes. Jeremy, the other Aussie Indonesian translator, is currently studying law. I'm sure his work here will be put to good use once he is done. He also drives around on a motorcycle -- a fact that I didn't know until yesterday afternoon. I needed a ride to the Obrigado Barracks, where many of the offices had moved, including MOVCON (Movement Control, charged with keeping track of personnel movement in the mission area). He very kindly agreed to give me a ride, as he was ready to leave anyway (it was already five o'clock in the afternoon). We walked out of the office, and up to... his motorcycle. I was loaded down with my bag, two paperbacks, my little black organizer, and a manila folder, all of which he simply put in his backpack. He put it on with the bag in front, and instructed me to get behind him. I climbed aboard, and before I knew it, I was holding on for dear life as we tootled along the streets of Dili on a motorcycle with no helmet on. I admit that the wind in my hair felt really good, and he drove safely and got me to the Barracks just fine. (Another side note: Obrigado Barracks is also the headquarters of the Pakistani army contingent. In addition, there is also the PX, a small grocery store, an electronics place, and a pizza counter. Their Obrigado Special pizza has lots of stuff piled on and is quite yummy. The name is also a pun: "Obrigado/a barak" is Tetun for "Thank you very much.") Alex is the Deputy Principal Legal Advisor and my supervisor, an American from North Carolina. He leaves a lot of things up to me to decide, which is both invigorating and challenging. Ask him a question, and he'll point me in a direction that he thinks may give me a good start, but then leaves the details up to me. There is a lot of freedom as to how I do what I must do, a totally new experience for me. He hosts a wine-and-cheese thing every Friday after work, a nice way to wind down the week. Then there are the District Legal Officers, many of whom I don't see for weeks at a time because they work out in the mountains and forests of the Timorese countryside. I have gotten to know a few of them, as they like to enjoy themselves whenever they are in Dili and often invite people along to go out after work. Olga I've mentioned in previous installments; she works in Ainaro and Manufahi Districts. Valeria, the funny Italian woman, works in Manatuto District, immediately to the east of Dili, as well as the eastern-most district of Lautem. Olga told me about what Valeria did when her luggage was lost on her way to Dili: "I could do two things: cry, or go shopping. I went shopping." You go, girl! Erivan is a Brazilian lawyer who works in the border districts of Bobonaro and Cova Lima. He obviously speaks Portuguese, but his Spanish (and French, I think) is better than his English, so whenever I feel confident enough, and that the matter is important, I use Spanish. It takes him eight hours or so to drive from Suai, the district seat of Cova Lima, to Dili; the last time he was here, he was so tired he kept trying to speak to me in Portuguese. I was helping him with some English correspondence, through which I learned that he was on leave from his job as a professor of human rights law at a university in Rio. Carlos is a Spanish lawyer who works in Aileu District and the Oecussi enclave, the wee bit of East Timor that's surrounded by Indonesian West Timor (Nusa Tenggara Timur). He was working on a border issue, and asked me to chase up some document that defined the border between Indonesia and East Timor, a particularly sensitive issue in Oecussi due to its geographical location. It turns out that it hasn't been decided yet! He and I were both rather flabbergasted at the state of things, but it seems his question may have lit a fire under the Joint Border Committee. He and his wife spent Christmas here, and he invited me over for Christmas dinner, which was really nice. I got to practice some Spanish (most of the guests were Spanish-speakers), and even heard a really bad Spanish pun. ("Que es eso? Es queso!") Outside of work, my "partner in crime" is Magda, the 27-year-old Polish-Australian girl who usually lives in Darwin with her boyfriend, Daniel. She is the office manager for the Office of Internal Oversight Services. We met in the staff orientation programme, and started with lunch every Wednesday. Now, when we're not doing anything in particular, we just ring each other up and we'd go out for lunch, dinner, drinks, shopping, check out the live band at such-and-such -- you name it. It has been a long time since I've had a good female friend, and it feels really good. We have a lot of laughs, and we both get crazy ideas. Take, for example, the New Year's Funny Hat Party. Magda had suggested we spend New Year's Eve on the Central Maritime Hotel, the one luxury hotel in Dili which is actually a semi-permanently moored cruise ship. On Christmas, her house which she shares with a few other women had been the target of a couple of Timorese gangs armed with rocks and machetes (Magda and Daniel, who was visiting at the time, were luckily not home). Since then, she had been thinking of spending New Year's somewhere comparatively safe, and I was all up for doing something special -- I'd never done anything like it before. The Central Maritime was offering a New Year's package, that included dinner, party, accomodation, and breakfast the next day, and it wasn't too expensive, so I paid in. For the Funny Hat Party (a party game in which we came in with silly hats, with the silliest getting a prize), she came up with the idea of making hats that were faces, with shredded paper hair and party hats of their own. We spent part of the 30th in her office with paper, crayons and chalk, and made a couple of cones with faces. She turned hers into a bird, and I stuck one of her cigarettes into its 'beak'. I put big red lips on mine, with a proper nose, and taped on earrings that said "Happy New Year" in English, Spanish, and Portuguese (it was a rush job, and I didn't have my Indonesian or Tetun books with me). Her hat won her a free night on the Central (I think it was my cigarette idea that was crucial ;) and she's invited me along whenever she decides to use that. Then there are the many Timorese, many of whom I really only know by face. I have tried to make it a habit of saying "Bondia" to those in the street when I go to work, and "Botarde" and "Bonoite" when I go home. I also try to use the few Tetun phrases that I've managed to get under my belt, but I can only smile when they start talking to me full-on. Among the many moneychangers and phonecard sellers, there are two boys, likely in their mid-teens, from whom I usually buy my phonecards. One of them, Ruby, always has a grin, and even when I don't buy one from him, he waves and we say "Hi." Once, when I was short on cash, he even offered me to let me have one, and pay him the next day. I didn't do that, but knowing how desperate the Timorese economy is, I knew it was a generous offer. The other boy, whose name I don't know, is more aggressive and persistent, and has a bit of an attitude. However, there's also an innocence that seems to redeem him, and makes him stand out from the rest of the crowd. I like to acknowledge persistence, especially when the person is trying to make an honest living; I know that these kids are probably making maybe one U.S. dollar profit per card. I want to buy the cards from these kids on the street rather than directly from Telstra or from the hotel, as I know that I am contributing, if only on a small scale, to their current economy. The few Timorese staff in the hotel that I know by name I also try to greet in my comings and goings. Senhor Joao, the tall night desk man, is a bit laid back and smiles easily; Senhor Alfonso, the shorter day desk man, is a bit more formal -- he greets me in English, and when possible, shakes my hand. The waitstaff in the hotel's restaurant I also try to talk to, and after that staff party, I think we feel much more comfortable with each other. There are Senhores David and Filomeno, who work the dining room during the day, and the two girls who work there in the evenings, Meninas Leles and Belinia. Although there are significant language barriers, we try to communicate in whatever language we can -- they speak much better English than I speak Tetun (if you can call it 'speaking')! (Yet another side note: "Senhor" is "Mr.," "Menina" is "Miss," both from Portuguese; it is used commonly in conversation, and is a sign of common courtesy and respect in Tetun. "Mrs." is "Senhora.") These are the people who currently populate my life here in East Timor. There are many others, some whom I don't see very often, that I am getting to know a little at a time. Tonight, Magda and I have been invited to the Central, where a few of her friends are having a barbecue. They work the UN Dili/Darwin flights, and it's always nice to know people who work that detail -- plus, they live on the Central, which means that invitations to shindigs on the 'nice boat' might come more often! I met them at the New Year's party/dance, where I danced my tushy off and gave myself mild whiplash (yes, whiplash) after a bit too much bobbing to headbanging music. Stuff happens -- especially in East Timor. There will be more to come soon -- next big thing is my trip to Australia (that weekend in Darwin doesn't *really* count). I am using my extra vacation days (Occasional Recuperation Break, or "ORB"), plus my accrued vacation days, and taking a three-week trip to Sydney and Melbourne, with a possible stop in Canberra. I will be in Sydney during the last week of the Sydney Festival 2002, which should be really fun, and Magda's parents, who live in Melbourne, have kindly offered me a place to stay while I am there. Sydney has the harbour and the Opera House, of course, and I hear it's a lot like southern California, so it'll be like home, except everyone will talk funny. And, I hear that Melbourne is the fashion capital of Australia, and that there's a tour that takes people around the clothing industry district. Nice clothes for little money -- I can get into that! P.S. For those of you who have asked after Rich's health, thank you very much for your concern. Six weeks after his surgery, his doctor gave him the 'green light' to resume a relatively normal life. He is currently working his way back to normal activities, plus rehab (treadmill, stationary bike, rowing machine). When I suggested he can do all those things outside, he pointed out that he would freeze his butt off -- very easy for me to forget, being in this tropical climate. At least, he is back to enjoying vigorous walks with his dog, Odie, and driving around town (doctor's note attached!). I think he's looking forward to using the book I gave him: "How to Win at Golf Without Actually Playing Well." [EG] As for myself, I am looking forward to seeing him when I return to the States, by which time I fully expect him to be gigging regularly again. To be continued....