8. June 2007: Baguia
There are no buses going to Baguia. I head out of town on the back of a truck with several villagers. It’s a bumpy ride on a road with potholes as big and deep as bathtubs. We need 3 hrs. for 57km (35 miles), pass many villages and cross a deep river. I’m glad by the time we arrive in Baguia. Still I have no clue where to stay over. A lady takes me home. They run a little guesthouse where I find a bed and food for the night. Nothing much happens the following days. It rains terribly, a land slide blocks the way out of town to the South and to the North the river makes it difficult to go back to Baucau. I’m stuck. I witness a funeral, visit Portuguese ruins and a school teacher invites me over to her village – a 1.5 hrs walk. I use the rain breaks to get out and I am glad for the exercise of walking to surrounding villages. I ask the police chief for directions to the teacher’s house (Laurinda Pinto). He says it’s up the hill, after crossing the river to the right, just 1 hrs walk from Baguia. I take off. Well, after the heavy rain falls during the last days there are many rivers crossing the road now – which one to take? Communication is difficult. Most people speak Tetun (the official language), some Indonesian and older people Portuguese. Spanish helps but not much. In a mix of all this languages, I finally find the teacher’s house, stay for lunch, discuss plans of developing the area for tourism and head back before it gets dark. Some houses in Baguia have power between 6 PM and midnight (not in the villages), so all neighbours of my guesthouse come in to watch TV in the evenings.
2. June 2007: Dili to Baucau
Dili is located on the Western side of East Timor. There is only one main road along the North shore to the East. It’s Saturday afternoon and the heat in Dili is unbearable. I hear about a Sunday market in Manatuto and decide to go there and further along the coast. I travel light and leave most of my belongings in Dili.
By the time I reach the bus stop at a space of open land next to the beach and the US embassy I see a 25-seats bus packed with people and goods they bought to take home to their villages. I gather a seat on the roof top and await the departure. Nothing happens. For a long time nothing happens. We have to move around as more goods get packed on to the roof. It gets kind of uncomfortable and I realize that I will probably get roasted in the heat of the sun during the 2 hrs. ride to Manatuto (64km/40miles). Much to the disappointment of my fellow roof riders I change vehicles when another bus turns up. After a short while we depart.
Once again I am the only foreigner in the bus surrounded by elderly ladies chewing betel nuts which makes their lips and their teeth red. They crack themselves up, playing jukes on me, tickling each other. I don’t understand a single word but it’s an amusing ride. The scenery is beautiful. Timor has many hills and mountains, the road follows long stretches of beach before climbing up some hills and dropping down to the coast line again. It is very green in this part of the island. There are lots of rice paddies and coconut trees. Shocking though are the conditions of the villages along the road which consist of simple bamboo huts, some stone buildings and many demolished and abandoned houses. There are ruins everywhere and I wonder what has happened here before. The locals tell me stories about the time after the Portuguese left in 1975, the Indonesians invasion and bloody annexation. Man y East Timorese got killed between 1975-79 and later I 1998/99 (one third of the population, about 200.000 people), their houses got burned and destroyed by Indonesian troops while the outside world watched. People fled in fear of torture, rape and murder into the mountainous areas. Hence there are so many ruins.
The bus stops in Manatuto. It seems to be a dull and uninteresting place to spend a Saturday afternoon. I decide to stay on the bus and go to Baucau. It took me several attempts to make clear to the driver to drop me off at the (only) cheap place in town. It’s still Saturday and most people think I take a break from work, headed to the luxury hotel in Baucau, mainly used to UN workers. I spend a day on the beach, reading and swimming and meet some Aussie UN policemen for dinner. One spits out his coffee when I tell them that I am a tourist. They give me some tips where to go. One is Baguia, a mountain village to climb Mt. Matebian. The other is Viqueque with Japanese tunnels from WWII to see. But apparently a local farmer holds his pigs in there and you can’t go through the tunnels anymore. Back at my guest house I learn that the Malaysian UN police force is stationed there. It makes me feel safe and I get a good night sleep.
31. May 2007: Dili
Arrived in Dili safely! I was a little nervous on the 30 seater propeller machine from Darwin - but everything was just fine. The city is packed with military and police, mainly from the UN, soldiers walk the streets and UN police cars are all over the place. I feel safe here, watched a football (European football) game in the stadium yesterday afternoon before I headed to a local restaurant around the corner of my guest house (run by a Sri Lankan family). Fish, veges, rice and soup for USD 1 (and I paid double already, special tourist price). I will spend the next few days in Dili and head out to the country side on the weekend to spend some time in villages and in the mountainous areas. I also applied for an Indonesian visa which I will pick up next week.
Photos: Click here to check out my photos (East Timer, West)
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