East Timor: random first day in Dili

I flew to Dili early one Saturday morning. The flight was just one hour and ten minutes, and it felt like we hardly had time to scoff down our pastries before we were landing. We walked out onto the tarmac and into the single square building that is the airport, waited at the only conveyor belt, and pretty soon I was in the "waiting area" which was just a handful of plastic chairs out in the open air.

I had no idea where I was headed, but on the flight I decided I would try to get to Atauro Island on the ferry that morning. It was early so I took a taxi to the wharf, thinking I'd just wait for the ferry there. When I got there, hundreds of people were trying to push their way onto the wharf, frantically waving their pre-purchased tickets. I had no hope of getting a ferry ticket, so I gave up and went for a walk instead. I wasn't carrying much stuff, so it was nice to walk in the early morning (relative) coolness.

Some deserted blocks later, I made my way to the only backpackers place in East Timor - the East Timor backpackers, run by a Pom and his Timorese wife. As I walked in, they were trying to chop down a tree full of beautiful yellow flowers, a rather strange activity for Saturday morning, I thought. After a short nap I spent the whole morning talking to some random guy working as a volunteer for Arte Moris, a local organisation supporting young Timorese artists. He had finished university in Brisbane and decided to move to Dili - he seemed like the archetypal wanderer, so by the time I finished talking to him I felt like I was back on the road wandering too.

Eventually I went for a walk around town in the almost unbearable midday heat. Near the water it was not too bad, but everywhere else the air was so still that it was almost suffocating. Everything seemed to be closed, and there were not many people walking on the streets. I walked along the waterfront where people hid under huge banyan trees and drank coconuts, then I had lunch of fried fish and fish curry at a padang style joint.

Dili was strange to walk around - most of the time it was just hot, dusty and unpleasant, but one would come across some strange surprises. Sometimes, turning a corner, one would suddenly see the hills that surround Dili, and it was actually pretty picturesque.

Also there were a number of colourful murals around the place, a lot of them with a Tour de Timor theme. I guess the bike riders or organisers must have painted them.

And once in a while there would be pretty trees and flowers, such as this one near the cathedral.

The strangest surprise for me was when I went back to the hostel and sat drinking iced tea. The men who had chopped down the tree with yellow flowers earlier in the day were busy building a shelter-like structure out of palm leaves. After laying down the layers of palm, they had to trim the shelter, which they did with a machete and a mango stick! Sitting under the palm cover once it was done, it exuded a sweet smell which reminded me of rain in the wet season.

So I drank iced tea, gazed at the sky and unwound. At sundown I went for another walk, but I was uncertain about the safety situation so I stuck near the hostel and had a masala dosa for dinner.

I saw lots of UN vehicles that day, both standard ones (so easy to spot white Landcruisers) and UN police vehicles. I had my first taste of the demonstrations - there was a peaceful protest in the city centre, where lots of people old and young marched through the streets carrying signs. At this protest I did not feel uncomfortable to watch (unlike others later), so I stood on a corner near the National University and watched the hordes of UN police carrying heavy weapons direct the protest away from the city centre. How surreal it was..