Il mio primo natale ai tropici

Ebbene si, questa volta non sono tornata e me ne sono stata al caldo... certo sono riuscita a mangiare il panettone che la mamma mi aveva mandato, e pure il torrone, i fichi secchi e i datteri... ma al caldo, guardando il mare e passando il 25 ad abbrustolirmi in spiaggia.

Strano il Natale al caldo, non sembra neanche natale...ci si salva perche' i timoresi son cattolici, vanno a messa per 4 ore la notte della vigilia, fanno i presepi in giro per la citta' e preparano dei visibilissimi alberi di natale che sono dei gran pugni in un occhio grazie ai chili di pallline e stelle filanti... ma in fondo non e' un bianco natale.
Comunque, a quanto pare sono sopravvissuta, siam tornati al lavoro e qui c'e una foto, tanto epr fare un po' invidia... sempre che ci sia da fare invidia!
Per le eprsone che non sono riuscita a chiamare grazie al temporale che ci ha tolto la linea internet... beh, BUON 26 dicembre... per natale e tardi ormai, e fa troppo caldo comunque!

voglio uscire alla luce!

Not much time today, for once this week I really want to leave when the sun is still in the sky... maybe not really up in hte sky, but at least still in that typical golden colour reflecting on the water and painting the whole sky in bright and warm yellow and orange... so even if it's a long time I don't write, well I guess tehre will still be a bit to wait, but at least I post a picture taken some weeks ago while we were on top o a boat enjoying, almost absorbing every single cell and part of golden light coming from the sun setting....

a small quiet island in front of the island

During a very important day, one of those days that are considered to be written down on your agenda or in a cronology because something special will happen, one of those days that people tell you 2 weeks in advance that you shouldn't go out... I woke up in the morning and while driving in front of the government palace for the first time I paid more attention than usual on all those trucks parked there with all their green brown dressed people around them, or lazily sitting near the sea... wondering what was happening, what was the real reason why they were there... all around town people were taking the longest ways to avoid the city centre, while other people, specific ones, wrapped in party flags were going to the centre instead because they were to be the protagonists of this day. And during our normal trip in the old white big car we talked about democracy... not those general conversations on the general sense of democracy, but what is the practical value and meaning of it here and now... here when the country is having its first theoretically completely independent elections... theoretically... what would it be if they were really independent? when will they be really independent? could they be really? and then what is real independence? but the debate today was rather what is a real democracy? what is real democracy in a young country? is it just having election with 14 parties? or is it not burning down the houses of the people who will win and you don't like? is democracy something that grows slowly? or is it a threshold that either you reach or you don't? do you have to be alone and independent once you are democratic? and do you really need to be democratic?An old man that now works as a driver but speaks perfect portuguese, better than most of the people in this country (and I leave this debate on the language choice of this independent island to another time), was saying that at the end of the day there is few people in this country that are educated enough to be able to govern properly, and that there is a lot of people that are not educated enough to understand this.... so that, at the end of the day, probably a dictatorship, a good one, would be much better to explain people what is democracy and finally give it to them... and this is what a lot of the old people in this country, those who have fought Indonesia and who have experienced colonialism think, especially when they look at their youth... Is democracy really the best step a country can take? I don't know the answer obviously, but in such a special day where this island could potentially go through a mess, or this is what everybody is fearing... I really liked the idea of looking at these pictures I took in another island, a tiny little one just in front of us, a tiny little place that we see everyday while driving near the sea, the same little sland that hose guys in green and brown mymetic shirts were looking at this morning... and probably thought what the word calm and not democracy means.

That's how I will end up staying longer...

There we are, 4 months are gone, or even more since I first arrived here and then on the very same day when my contract expired I was given a new one for another 6 months... unbelievable, really amazing and incredible and mostly unexpected... when I received and signed the contract I kissed Nata, our admin person, who laso happens ot be a lovely woman.
So well, apparently I will stay confined in this beautiful place on the other side of the world for much longer than expected and it's really weird to know what is the plan for hte next 6 months, really weird... Nevertheless, as I am starting to dream of Europe, of Italy and of a nice cold weather with the snow, a hot chocolate and some nice christmas cookies... I really hope and I'll do all I can to come home in August! I know it's not exactely I good time of the year to find the snow, but well, it will most probably be a bit cooler than here.
Oh well, I hope you are all doing fine and take care!

the paradise of flying stones

Here we are in this paradisiac little half on an island where you can get sweet pinapples out of plants lying in your gardens and where you can see fresh lobsters hanging from trees or where you can spend the whole weekend lying on white sand beaches reading and sipping fresh lime juice... but where you cannot go home on a monday night after work because people are throwing stones in the centre of the city to fight eachother for some unknown reasons, a country where people have been living in IDP camps in tents or in the garden of some relatives for at least one year, a country where every day you meet at least one new child with a big belly and skiny legs because what they eat is not quite right and they don't see the doctors... Obvious things that you can read everywhere? yes, quite probably, and probably not even that bad compared to other places... but well this is what is going on tonight, on a normal Timor day.

the small sweet surprise that can change your day

Since I first came on this side of the emisphere I starte realising how much someone can feel far from home. I'm not there, it takes at least 3 days to go back home or to reach anyone who is anywhere in the nice old continent, there are 7 hours of difference in the time so that if you wake up and you want to write something to your best friend, if you are lucky enough to have a phone, you will still have to wait at least 7 hours before you can here their voice... And then, on the other side there is technology... This is why for the first time in my life I ended up opening a blog, why I love so much writing or receiving emails from friends, why I started to appreciate so much this white square full of small, minuscule lamps in front of me... But despite this evolution, today I had once again this small thing that became big, huge to me and called me down to reality, to a good side of reality. Receiving normal mail -the one written on paper and with seals on top- in this side of the world takes almost one month of travelling from Europe, probably not through romantic caravanserragli, horses, big sailing boats or steam trains, but still a long time, that once again reminds you of how far away you are. This is why when today I received a white envelope, quite thick and written with a handwriting that I know (this is the other nice difference with emails, you don't see the name, you recognise the hand of the person who wrote), I got so incredibly happy and excited. So, thanks you so much Cile, it was really a beautiful present!

When the boss is leaving

I remember when I was a child and I used to take swimming classes and I was really scared of one particular teacher... she used to make us swim a lot and shout if we were not quick enough... Then school came and during school or uni we all met someone who made us stop breathing or almost praying so that an hour could pass quickly without having too many problems. Who didn't have one of those professors that are just nasty and make you feel you don't want to be there when they enter the class, or you want to disappear in a puff when they alk to you? Well, apparently these things happen also in working life, nothing changes, if you are lucky maybe this scary person is not your boss, and you only starting feeling this empiness in your stomach when the big boss goes on holiday... but it's anthropologically very funny how even adult professionals end up sweating and thinking of options like pretending to be sick in order to avoid a day of torture in the office.... after all maybe we don't change that much when we grow up.

at least a short beginning

I wanted to write big philosophical reflections, but it's not working, so I decided to let you know I'm opening this blog despite for the moment there won't be much more than pictures, but at least I will start having you see (again) a bit of what is life here and hopefully someone will get so intrigued that will come here at least for a visit! It would acutally be so nice...
Well, we start then! and I hope to see you popping around every now and again!
The picture on the side was taken during a weekend when we managed to escape from teh capital and get out of the hot and chaotic life of this small city where we spend most of our time... So welcome to Baucau, 3 hours east of Dili, on the Northern coast of the country... and I introduce you to some exemplars of anglosaxon aid workers...plus me obviously!

un bacio, vale