My favorite spot in Dili so far - Cafeteria Mazzarello - is admittedly, not very Timorese. As I write, a nun is bringing me a cafe latte that she made while I conspicuously supervised her and instructed her not to make it too hot - burning the milk is an unfortunate vice of every Timorese barista I've encountered so far. Before I walk through the beautifully kept garden to the cafe I grab a mini lamington (yes, a lamington!) from the french bakery out the front of this nun's compound and enjoy the welcome respite from the obnoxious car horns that are otherwise inescapable.
Despite the endless soundtrack of Indonesian pop songs and the occasional Celine Dion number on the stereo, it's delightful here. And it temporarily satiates my seriously debilitating jones for a good cup of coffee. Accordingly, my first tip for this week is, when considering embarking on a long trip overseas, decisively commit to deleting all the photos you took on your phone of the delicious coffees and meals you made at home. I have at least a dozen shots of perfect latte art that serve only to make me curse and shake my phone violently in exasperation. (Post script: the machine is unmanned now, do I dare make my own cup...?)
So far my homesickness has taken on a tragically clichéd condition. The other day I spent a whopping US$8 on a jar of Vegemite because I stupidly forgot to bring my own but I couldn't fathom nine more months without it. I've also taken to wearing my most comfortable flanno to bed despite the persistent heat over night (occasionally I'm guilty of cranking the air con and getting under the covers). But, there's plenty to be excited about in Dili, so I best get on to describing some of the things that are wonderfully and uniquely Timorese.
Firstly, my room smells perpetually of toasted sesame seeds. I can imagine some people would find this pervasive after a while but I like it. I can already tell it's going to be one of those powerfully associative olfactory memory triggers that instantly transports me back to my little room in Comoro. I rent it reasonably cheaply from a local family who are very hospitable and are often knocking on my door offering traditional snacks and sweets, most commonly a strange pink pudding that can only be described as milk-flavoured jelly. More to my taste is the bread that they bake some mornings at home. It's delicious, fresh and not sickly sweet like a lot of Asian attempts at bread. I think it must be a legacy of the Portuguese influence because the family seem to enjoy it too, they don't just make it for my benefit. (Note: 'My Heart Will Go On' is playing now for the third time in the cafe)
The youngest member of my adoptive Timorese family celebrated his 3rd birthday this week. It was quite special to be warmly welcomed into Tolé's party, which was much like any Australian 3rd birthday, with new toys, a big meal and a carefully constructed and colourfully decorated cake. Despite speaking almost no words to any of the attendees and communicating only with exaggerated hand signals, the evening was really a highlight of my week. (Post-post script: after proudly displaying all my coffee-phone-photos I've arranged with one of the nuns to come in next weekend and teach some of the others how to make coffee 'the Australian way'!)
Another memorable event this week came after meeting the lovely Hercyk family while diving (the 11 year old Ezra Hercyk ran circles around me in our open water course which we both completed on Friday). My attitude so far has been to say yes to every opportunity, so when Laurie asked me if I wanted to come with them to an anti-smoking rally to commemorate World No Tobacco Day I said yes, and suppressed my initial negative reaction. Upon arrival we were all given matching tshirts and slowly began to march down the main street in Dili, from the Presidential Palace to the newly developed Timor Plaza, home of East Timor's only elevator. There were about 200 people who walked, half of whom were local. The other half were representatives of the various sponsors and their family's. The event was run by ADRA Timor-Leste and supported by the World Health Organisation and other well-known NGOs and institutions.
Whether or not it will help to increase awareness amongst the heavily addicted youth population, I don't know. But I had fun, and it's interesting to see what bizarre situations you find yourself in when you're open to new people and experiences. The number one recommendation on the DFAT smart traveller website is to avoid public protests and I promised my dad I wouldn't get involved in anything publicly political... This one though was a pretty safe risk I think!
In next week's post I will definitively solve Sydney's public transport crisis. Gladys Berejiklian, if you're reading this (which you probably are), stay tuned.