First, an addendum to last week's post: I have in front of me a delicious (albeit pretentious) cup of coffee, with silky milk and carefully constructed latte art. Totally worth the awkward request to make it myself! The effort of teaching the nuns about tamping and pouring techniques however seems rather futile when your core ingredient is long life milk.... But enough snobbery.
Another promise from last week: to brief Berejiklian on the foolproof way she will unequivocally end Sydney's public transport debacle. The main streets of Dili are serviced by small minibuses called mikrolets that run up and down all day long, with one arriving every two or three minutes. They're cheap - about 25c for a 20 minute ride - and they are almost always packed full of 10 or more people with three or four more hanging from the side door. Occasionally you see young men clutching on while being towed along on their roller blades.
Safety concerns aside, I'm adament that this model would be right at home on Anzac parade, King street, or even the dowdy Pennant Hills road! Of course, the size would have to be amended since Timorese men and women tend not to reach the 6 foot mark and even my head barely fits under the roof. But still, I think this is an entirely viable development option! And much cheaper than all the light rail talk that's going on at the moment.....
Unfortunately my ingenious plan hit a snag this week. Turns out mikrolets are not as cheap to run as they seem and the (outrageously unaffordable) price of petrol here forced the drivers to go on strike for three days. So much for my idea!
This week I started working at an awesome organisation called Ba Futuru, conveniently located across the road from my house! I'm not sure where they get their funding, although I suspect a significant portion comes from AusAid. In any case, they are very well kitted out with a skate park, basketball court, instruments and classrooms. They have a youth focus and one of their main objectives is to provide capacity building opportunities including IT, English and the arts. I was excited to hear that they have a professional quality video camera and brand new editing software, so again, I dramatically overstated my experience with film editing and they excitedly welcomed me to help teach some of the staff how to use the programs.
Technically, I've never actually used final cut pro.... But it was an innocuous lie as its various derivatives are essentially exactly the same and I didn't have any problems adapting. My favourite thing about Ba Futuru though is that it introduced me to the gorgeous Rhiannon, who runs yoga classes in Dili which I have been making the most of before she heads home to Sydney next week. Her classes have satisfied my fleeting cravings for exercise which have been otherwise difficult to fill considering it is way too hot during the day to do anything too strenuous outdoors. Having said that, because of the annual Dili 'city of peace' marathon, they do have quite a prominent athletic community. On the (pitiful) two runs I've been on so far I've seen quite a few young people training down near the water, and I've also been told that there are high hopes for East Timor's distance athletes at the Olympics.
A big part of what's so exciting about being involved with Ba Futuru is that they cater to the cities massive youth population, which has grown exponentially due to the increased birth rate and the return of many refugees since independence. Spending even a little bit of time in Dili reveals how this dynamic causes a whole new set of social problems that require newly imagined models to address them. Instances of endemic child labour are patently visible on the streets and schools are chronically understaffed and overcrowded. As a western woman it's especially difficult to avoid the obstinate cat calls from gangs of young men who hang out on the streets. I'm not a prude and I'm not easily offended but recently, when my taxi driver locked my door and leaned in expectantly, I was just a little bit confronted. He continued to threaten me with his kiss until I threw extra money at him and bolted. When I told some Timorese friends about the incident they were incredibly embarrassed and all of them quickly deferred to the fact that young boys in Dili are 'very very naughty'.
As affronted as I was by the taxi assault, it doesnt even nearly compare to the terrifying experience I had over the weekend. I somehow seem to have become the defacto driver for Crisna, the director of my school. On the weekends we go into the districts to film segments about rural schools for the evening news. We took Crisna's small two door Rav4 and filled it with NINE people! Negotiating horrific roads while attempting to foresee any trucks that might be coming in the opposite direction is scary enough without a car load of 15 year olds. Add into the mix the constant repetition of Akon's 'Be With You', which was only intermittently interrupted by the students collective prayers, which we certainly needed!
For some unfathomable reason, he insisted on leaving at 8pm for a drive that should have only taken two hours. Again, we drove about half way and then set up camp for the night. This time though, we went up into the mountains, so not only was it uncomfortable sleeping on the dirt floor, it was also unbearably cold! In the morning, the students all looked at me like I was crazy for not showering, but pouring bucket loads of ice cold water onto me when it's already about 5 degrees outside is my definition of crazy.
Thank you all very much for your kind words about the blog! I'm having fun writing it and there will definitely be much more to come. I'll refrain from making any sweeping claims to fix systemic transport problems in the future, just in case industrial disputes foil my plans again!