"The birth of a child for one. Or the death of a parent. Falling in love. Words are like nets - we hope they'll cover what we mean, but we know they can't possibly hold that much joy, or grief, or wonder. Finding God is like that too. If its happened to you, you know what it feels like. But try and describe it to someone else - and language takes you only so far."
No I haven't found God but appreciate the many special moments that are deeply personal to an individual, yet, like a picture of unparalleled natural beauty, can never be shared with any one to the level of intimacy that you yourself felt at the moment. While I love language and the wonderful ideas, thoughts, and feelings that it's words can express - I'm dumbfounded as to how to express what it is really like living here, on the other side of the world, in a different culture, and meeting people I would have never thought I would ever meet. Yet at the same time missing a life that I left in North America; my family, my friends, the things that were so a part of my former life. Now a memory, and one which you forget about one moment and yet long for in another.
As I have mentioned previously, every now and then I have a "moment" where you realize to yourself 'wow, think of where I'm am and what I'm doing" be it driving down the coast, or just hanging with mates. For example I/we had one of those moments on Sunday, when for the second time since I've been here we headed to K41, a popular snorkeling/diving spot 41kms up the coast from Dili. It was a beautiful clear day with a nice breeze, and we had a wonderful spot under a tree to enjoy the day and the snorkeling. Unlike my previous journey to the spot in late January the waters were warm and clear, and again I floated on the surface mumbling to myself through my snorkel "Wow - another National Geographic episode and I'm living it" before me was bright coral, with teaming wildlife all around, and below me where ever I looked. I even swim above two divers some 10 meters below me and watched their exhalation bubbles float up and surround me. Then back to our spot under the trees where the 4 of us sat with a beer in hand discussing how lucky we were at this moment, doing what were doing. This while three local boys, ever curious with us, never really left us singing to themselves and watching us. We even joined them in a game of can toss; they would line up the beer and pop cans left by others on the beach and we, along with them, would throw stones while never leaving our fold up trays. For the record we don't leave our trash anywhere and took the empty beer cans with us. Again a moment or as one of the other guys said "LF" life's good, and that day it was indeed. Another such moment was the day before at breakfast. As I might have mentioned previously breakfast is included in our rent and is taken in a little covered area beside the pool. It is a wonderful little place to meet and greet everyone who lives in our compound, as there is very little turnover, it is very much a little family where every one knows one another; our own little Melrose Place. On Saturday, as most don't have to work, we linger and chat longer than on workdays. It was at that moment that I said to myself, unlike a bowl of high fiber cereal with to much coffee I would typically be consuming alone when in Winnipeg, today I was having a wonderful talk with my new mates of many ethnicity's, myself the Canadian, three Australians, one French women, a Portuguese gent, and our German couple, Clouse and Gabby. The best I could do at home would be breakfast at the local Salisbury House, where instead of different ethnicity's you get a wide spectrum of economic, and personality stratum's among the locals. It was during that conversation that I have since found out there are approximately 10,000 expats here with 99% of those living in Dili. Of those most would be either Australian or Portuguese. There are about a dozen Canadians here, a few more Americans, Europeans and others. I met a gent from the Netherlands here on Saturday who arrived only 5 weeks previously. Thankfully to my closed North American linguistic spectrum, the predominant language when in a crowd of multinationals, is English. Again I am continually amazed and envious of the many here, primarily the Europeans who can casually flip from language to language. Talking to me in English and the phone rings and suddenly are talking fluid Portuguese or Bahasa or whatever, incredible.
The excitement of the week continued on Tuesday when myself, Fredlito and Zenildo drove to Baucau to check out some renovations done at the EDTL office there. Baucau is 120kms yet takes about 3 hours one way due to the condition of the roads, other traffic, and the ever present threat of dogs, goats, pigs or water buffalo that may dart into the road. I won't describe the journey again as I told that tale in Stories from the Tropic #4 posted Jan28/09. However true to form new experiences unfolded before me on this particular journey as they did on the last. After our inspection of the renovations it was off to our former commercial center that was looted and destroyed during the last uprising in 2006 - however our task was an unpleasant one as I had to chat to the squatters that now inhabit the place. My task was to tell these folks that at any time EDTL would be reclaim the spot and they would be evicted without compensation for any changes they might do. As it turned out these people had a letter from the district administrator of Baucau to use the spot. As well, as often is the case this was a 'favor' to the Chief of Police and his family - all 13 of them - watching me as we talked. While certainly a memorable experience, not one of the most pleasant I have had. After that it was time for lunch which happened to be directly across the street from the commercial center; we parked within the gates of the restaurant just to ensure our vehicle, and ride home, wasn't visited by one of the 13 we just talked too. For lunch I ordered chicken curry (quite a common menu item at most restaurants) - which happened to be the freshest, almost to much so, that I have ever had: within a few minutes of placing my order there was a great commotion in the back of the restaurant when all the chickens scrambled as one of there own had to sacrifice itself for my lunch. It quite disturbed me in reality as I questioned my carnivorous ways. That said it was a dandy chicken curry which did not illicit any nightmares that night.
This weekend we have a road trip planned to the southside of the island to a town called Viqueque, (say Vi-keck-ee) close to waterfalls and other natural wonders waiting to be discovered on this island, then further along the coast to check out the gas fields and other little adventures. We will stay 2 nights and return on Sunday - what should be interesting is hotels in local towns are not much more than a hole in the ground for a toilet, and a room of just a bed and mosquito netting - not my cup of tea but this is place is more than a job but an adventure as well - and I'm about to have another one. Three guesses what the next blog might be about?
I made the journey and overcame my fear
So very far from home, yet so very near
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