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Letter from East Timor
Illustration by Farzana Cooper
Published: Volume 13, Issue 1, January - February, 2005
What I didn't guess at then was the exquisite, teeming, coral reef submerged along the beach road that was to capture my imagination and convert me, a non-swimmer, into an ardent snorkeller. In which capital can you walk out of Parliament into an exotic reef?

Prabha Chandran describes a posting in East Timor, where peace-keeping officers live in giant containers fitted with air-conditioners, where giant octopuses dangle from palm trees and where the sea dazzles with amazing exotica.

As Indians we are so good at knocking our country that we should all live in a place like East Timor, for a while, to truly appreciate our homeland. So many things we take for granted still remain aspirations for those in poorer countries around the world. The difference between the undeveloped, half-burnt capital of Dili, where I'm now living and the crowded, 'globalising' metropolis of my hometown Delhi, couldn't be starker. After 450 years of Portuguese colonisation and 25 years of brutal Indonesian occupation, East Timor today looks exactly what it is - a place that the world forgot.

When I arrived here on a UN mission just over a year ago, I felt I'd fallen off the map - the air staff at most check-ins didn't know where East Timor was and they searched my passport in vain for a visa, from a country that didn't have embassies to provide them. I finally arrived at Dili's Nicolau Lobato International Airport which, I soon discovered, was a misnomer for a tin shed with a coconut-fringed airstrip. As the hot, wet tropical breeze stirred the dust haze on the tarmac, I queued up for the elusive visa outside a container office.



My low expectations hit rock-bottom the next morning when I discovered there were no newspapers in English. English newspapers were simply not available because there was no postal service to bring them in. The little house that was to be our home for the next year was my next disappointment but my 'Oh no! We can't live here', soon changed when I saw what else was on offer. Well, at least the house was on the beach and after we'd fixed and painted it, it became quite atmospheric with dramatic sunsets, islands and palms spread outside our window like a dynamic wallpaper for our interiors. In which capital can you walk out of Parliament into an exotic reef?

But there was a flip side to my beach home as I discovered one morning when I awoke to find a giant octopus dangling from the palm tree outside my window.

Regular Verve contributor, Prabha Chandran, has been living in Timor-Leste since October 2003, working with UNFPA on the first national census of the world's newest nation. Currently with the World Bank as a communications specialist, she has also been mentoring local journalists as part of a capacity building programme.









For the rest of the article, pick up VERVE’s January-February, 2005 issue
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