banana flowers

Many of us who come from the Northern hemisphere or far above the equator are not accustomed to seeing the plethora of bounty that comes from a banana tree.  All parts of the banana tree are very integrated in daily life here.

Bananas (hudi in Tetun) of course grow in bunches, circled around a large stalk that grows and hangs heavily down the trunk as the fruit ripens. Upon harvest they are usually separated into quarters and sold in markets for $2 a bunch.  We have various red and yellow varieties, offering various densities, thicknesses, textures and sweetness.  The red bananas are my favorite.  

In addition to the fruit, the large leaves provide shade to those below, or are used as tablecloths for dinner or selling wares in the markets, umbrellas during heavy rain, and for cooking fish and rice. 

Aesthetically my favorite part is the flower which is the remaining commodity from the banana tree.  It is sold in vegetable markets where it is taken home and lovingly chopped and prepared with other mixed vegetables.   It is slightly starchy and bitter, but full of nutrition.  Lifting up the leaves reveals tiny bananas that would eventually grow into the fruit if it remained on the tree. 

I like the way it hangs in all its crimson, purple, and fiery orange glory.

first steps

I have posted quite a few pictures lately, rather than writing.  The excitement of living in a new place wore off after the first 2 and a half months and I didn't have much else to say that I felt was clever or worth reading.  I also got more involved in actually having a life in my new environment and didn't have time to come home after work and dedicate to posting something someone would actually want to read. (I realize I'm making assumptions about you actually wanting to read this now, but just go with it).  

Recently, however I have made more of an effort. A bit of writing, a few more photos. I do love taking pictures. There is something so intimate and special about capturing a moment in someone's life or in yours, and a gift to have that memory in such a permanent beautiful form. It's an honor for me, and I am humbled throughout the process.  

I've been feeling humbled a lot by Timor lately.

It has been over 9 months since I first arrived and I have been reflecting on my life here and about my life in general.  Where do I want to go next (anywhere), should I be planning more for the future (I am not getting any younger, but whatever), should I "get serious" and "settle down" (yuck), etc.  This time last year I was in the process of making a big career change from the private-sector back to development work. I was considering moving anywhere in the world (obviously) and my options were endless. The excitement of having limitless options is still thrilling and I don't think I will ever get over that rush, or feeling of ultimate freedom and independence that comes with it. I had just applied to a girls education program in rural Afghanistan and thought for sure I would end up there.  Suddenly the opportunity in East Timor came up and to fruition so quickly and easily there was no way I could say no. Stars were aligned.  

I have fallen in love with a new place and all its quirks and idiosyncrasies, and made it my home.  I have made tremendous, intelligent, interesting friends and developed a bit more patience (not too much mind you, don't get crazy), and learned so much about life in such a different way that it is hard to explain. Each moment at work or each interaction with someone I care about adds a new dimension to my life.  I am grateful for those moments and do not take them for granted.

On this beautiful, humid, starry night I reflect on the small steps I made a year ago that have led me to be here in this beautiful place, today.  It has been quite an amazing journey and I am ready for tomorrow.

The first step, my son, which one makes in the world, is the one on which 
depends the rest of our days.

- Voltaire

honey sticks

the beginning is always today

sunshine

betel nut

In Timor, as in many countries in Asia, people chew areca nut, commonly referred to as betel nut. It grows in much of the tropical Pacific, Asia, and parts of east Africa. 

When I took a trip to the mountains a few months ago I was excited to try it with a local family. It is usually shared in a group of people who want to be more authentic in their conversation. In some of the sucos (sub-districts) they will sit in a circle and chew betel nut before an important community discussion or decision. It is a mild stimulant and causes a warming sensation throughout the body.

The betel nuts are sprinkled with lime powder. 

Then they are wrapped in betel leaves.  

Much like chewing some good ole' Copenhagen or whatever kind of dip you prefer, the little package is placed next to the cheek along the gum line. As your mouth fills with saliva due to the acrid reaction among the organic materials in your mouth, the liquid starts to soften the nut and you slowly chew.  Forever. With a smile on your face. Because you are with a lovely family and this is special for everyone. And an honor.

It produces the brightest amber spit that unfortunately stains the teeth of most if its devotees (women), and is totally disgusting.  

sister love

jaco island

I was lucky enough to go on a spectacular road trip this weekend to visit Jaco Island.  Jaco is just off of the easternmost district of Timor-Leste, called Lautem and the village closest to Jaco Island were I stayed is called Tutualaa.  I am proud to say that Mitsubitchy made it down the treacherous 8.8km “road” (navigable only by a 4WD) and enjoyed 2 nights of camping on Valu Beach.

Here are a few pictures to document the journey.

Baucau- after a 3 hour drive from Dili, we enjoyed this Thursday night sunset and rising full moon.  We ate at a tiny beach restaurant after I recovered my stolen ipod from (child) criminals after some savvy detective work and a cash reward.  That, and not being hit by falling coconuts during our dining experience were worthy of celebration with several ice cold Heinekens.

Friday morning we left Baucau for another 4 hour drive to Jaco Island.  Around kilometer marker 200, I finally saw a Timor crocodile.

It was nearly 5 meters long.

This photo gives some scale.  Such a thrill.

Along the way there are beautiful Fataluku houses, which are traditional homes in the Lautem district, particularly in Lospalos.  These were decorated with ropes of beads and shells.

The beginning of Irasiquero Lake, the largest freshwater lake in Timor.

The view from the Pousada at Tutualaa.  The water is crystal clear even from the top of the ridge.

We enjoyed a full moon over Valu Beach.

On Saturday we took a ferry over from Valu Beach to Jaco Island.  We enjoyed a lunch of freshly caught yellow-fin tuna and another white fish that were both tasty.  My friend purchased 2 fish ($40 total) from the fisherman who ferried us over in the morning and they grilled them for us.  After a morning of hard snorkeling it was divine.  Sitting in the soft white sand, we ate the fish steaks with our salty fingers reveling in our good fortune (our view of the crystal water) and delicious feast.

Jaco Island is part of the famed Coral Triangle, an underwater area that holds the world’s greatest diversity of both corals and coral reef fish, and is protected by the Nino Konis Santana National Park. The island is considered a sacred site by locals and is uninhabited. There are no permanent structures on the island, camping is prohibited, and its only regular visitors are fishermen and expats from Dili like myself. 

There are not enough adjectives and synonyms for the word beautiful to describe this beach. 

The closest thing I could find are the words of Abhijit Dutta:

As a beach, it’s a brochure writer’s dream: Every cliché about blemish-less white sand finer than powder is true; every licentious poem about color-crazy seas, is true; every incredulous story about water so clear naked eyes can spy its bare heart, is true. But Jaco also has a certain silence, almost a spiritual calm.

Quite a special place.