Maubisse

After a day in hot dusty Dili, I decided to head to the mountains for some cool air. The taxi driver left me on the side of some random road to wait for a bus going to Maubisse. After ten minutes no bus came along so I went to ask a random truck driver, who was quite enthusiastic and encouraged me to climb into the truck. Note to self, if climbing up the side of the truck into the back is rather difficult, it may be a sign from god that bumping down a pot hole track in a truck isn't the best idea.

But anyway I got in and ended up sitting on the floor next to a billie goat whose legs were tied up and it was forced to lie on its side. It bleated softly at first, but as the truck went around the mountains it got about as motion sick as me and started vomiting. Then it was screaming and gasping like it was having a stroke. It was just about how I was feeling too.

The truck was totally packed - the entire back cabin was taken up with women and children sitting on two wooden planks along the sides of the trucks, with men hanging off the sides and the back. Eventually I got upgraded to sitting on a bag of rice after a couple of vomiting girls got off, and about half an hour from Maubisse I even landed a seat on the planks, next to an old man holding his prized rooster like it was a baby.

The road was pretty rough, at some points leaving one wondering where the road actually was amongst the potholes. The steep winding around the hills made me want to vomit so I had to close my eyes. Intermittently when I opened them I would see lush green rice paddies, beautiful coconut and banana trees and the odd coffee tree. Children and animals played in the dirt, occasionally chasing the trucks down just for fun.

The main monument in Maubisse, next to a Fretilin flag

Four and a half hours later (depressingly, Maubisse is only 70km from Dili!), we arrived in a bustling market. But I felt so sick that I decided to go for a walk. The poussada (guesthouse in old Portugese building ) was set high up on a hill, overlooking Maubisse. The 10 minute walk up the hill was beautiful and one was rewarded with breathtaking views over the mountains. Halfway up there is a small memorial commemorating deaths in the local area, one of many I would see in Timor. The poussada is set amongst ruined walls of a Portugese era fort, and has a really abandoned feel to it.

 Steps up to the poussada

I went down to the market again but it was packing up for the day, everyone was getting into trucks to go back to their own villages, so I ended up having lunch with a bunch of UN police at one of the only eating joints in town. A strange old man who clearly wasn't part of the UN but was wearing some faux police jacket came up and started talking to me, then started shaking my hand vigorously whilst sporting a toothless grin. He insisted on buying me a bottle of water, which I guess was nice of him..

Man passing his chicken up the truck

There wasn't actually anything to do in Maubisse, which was just perfect. So I sat on my little verandah at the poussada, reading The World According to Garp, which reminded me of when I did anaesthetics last year and Dr Ferris was telling me about John Irving books. Dinner was served in the massive dining room (there's a lounge with old-school leather couches too) and I was the only guest. Rice, green beans and "Timorese steak", which was a steak marinated in tomato & onion salsa then grilled and served with the salsa reduced. It was pleasant enough though the steak was hard to chew.

 At the poussada

I woke in the morning to the sun casting a lovely soft light on everything. Breakfast was the most wonderful chewy bread rolls, still slightly warm.

I was happy after breakfast, so I dawdled down to the town to get the bus back to Dili. I sat in front of the market waiting for the bus to come, and vowed that I wouldn't go back to Dili on the back of a truck again (especially since the people at the poussada were adamant that no-one goes on trucks, everyone goes on buses!) I waited and waited, and eventually saw the "policeman" from the day before, who clutched my hand and semi dragged me across the road to a toothless woman with stained gums from betel chewing. I couldn't understand anything she said, but eventually (after trying to put me in a refridgeration truck) she shoved me on the back of an ute, and despite my vows that I wouldn't go back to Dili on a truck... I went back on the back of an ute which was probably worse...

Because when we went through several towns, there were convoys of trucks carrying lots of men, and lots of them had guns. I felt pretty exposed, the only foreigner on the back of an ute. But luckily I didn't get shot and made it back to the mindbogglingly luxurious hotel in Dili where I was to meet Namiko and Jade.