Approaching Dili by air is startlingly beautiful. If you can
imagine flying into paradise, well that’s how my first glimpse felt. Thick clouds
covered the island at first, apart from the craggy peaks which pierced the
fluffiness. Beside me my travel companion (Tim F) commented, I wonder how it would feel to be standing on
top of that mountain. Like standing on the edge of the world I’d bet.
The Air North plane to Dili seated about 30-40 people and
was full, with two attendants for the one-hour flight from Darwin. We arrived at Dili airport and were startled
to notice people standing and waving to the plane, only a couple of metres from
the edge of the runway.
Around the airstrip were at least a dozen choppers and other
aircraft imprinted with ‘UN’. Large wooden crosses dotted the hillsides close
by. These are not burial sites or memorials, but simply reminders of faith
placed around the city in this predominantly Catholic country.
Customs was relaxed. We paid US$30 for a visa, showed our
passports, and stated the purpose of our visit as ‘visiting friends’ (friends
that three of us were yet to meet). Bags were scanned, and presumably
scrutinised, though how intently I am unsure. We simply handed our incoming
papers to a gent standing in the walkway out to the greeting area. And that was
it.
We were met by Rev Samuel, Mr Argus and Ardaleno. Two local
barefooted children, covered from head to toe in dust, spontaneously joined us
on the walk to our car, and the young boy who I guess was about nine years old,
lifted the bags and guitars inside. We piled into the Rav 4 Samuel had on loan
from Mr Argus. I can’t imagine what we must have looked like after 24 hours
without sleep.
But if you think you get the picture, Dili is no carbon
copy of other Asian cities. It is too busy being itself.
The air is warm and dusty here as the wet season has not yet
arrived. Unless you work in the public service, it's a 7 day working week here. Perhaps you might take a break to go to church on Sunday morning. From the ends of long
bamboo poles, slung across people’s shoulders, hang fish, pak-choy, shoes and
any other manner of item for sale. People wheel huge wooden trolleys, sometimes
through the traffic, and others sit at stalls on the footpaths selling bottled water and such.
Dili is not built-up in the way of the others. There are some large buildings, most built in Portuguese architectural style, but very few exceed a couple of storeys. The Catholic cathedral is the largest building in town, and I find its size and austerity offensive. Housing is predominantly constructed from bamboo and corrugated iron, and many structures are built on riverbanks that don’t look like they’d see out a high tide. If I had to make a comparison, the closest I have seen to Dili is on some townships of Laos, but still in Laos there is more visible wealth.
Suddenly I missed my family, the way one does when faced
with the unfamiliar.
It was good to lie down and stretch out on my double bed
under the air conditioner - surely one of the better modern inventions! After
waking on Friday morning back at home (more than 24 hours before) I’d had no
sleep, so I lay down on my bed and caught half-an-hour or so. The power nap
would have to suffice as the combination of cool air on clammy skin woke me
prematurely.
I worked out how to activate the hot water after my first shower by following the
pipes around the wall to an electric switch labelled ‘hot water’. On my first day I helped myself to three showers
while I acclimatised, and battled exhaustion. There are three types of power
point in this room, none that accommodate the European convertor brought on
this journey. Luckily one of the versions on offer turns out to be an Aussie
point. The courtyard has a fishpond in the centre and some places
to sit, but it’s far too hot to use late morning. I know. I tried.
