Carlos L. Caceres-Collazo: To the memory of our friend

By Victoria Serra

JAKARTA (JP): On Wednesday Sept. 6 compassion suffered a blow in Atambua, West Timor, as our friend Carlos L. Caceres-Collazo and two of his colleagues, Pero Simudra and Sampson Aleghn, were struck down. Carlos was one of the kindest, most gentle and friendliest people I have ever met. Here are a few lines in his memory.

When I first met Carlos he was truly in his element. We were both attending a summer course in human rights, at New College, Oxford, doing two of the things that Carlos liked best; learning new things and meeting people from all over the world. We undertook a busy schedule of lectures and classes in subjects such as human rights advocacy, women's rights and refugee law.

When classes were over we would gather at one of those picturesque Oxford pubs, and discuss human rights and international politics late into the night. We all listened with great interest to Carlos' stories of his work with refugees in Russia. I think many of us felt a great deal of admiration for the fact that he was brave and devoted enough to go to places like Inguschetia and Chechnya, and endure the freezing cold Moscow winters, to help those who had no one else to turn to.

Life in Russia was not always easy for Carlos. He lived in Moscow when the Chechnyan crisis was at its worst. Being a native of Puerto Rico, and thus having dark hair and brown eyes, he apparently looked a lot like someone from Chechnya. Because of this, over a period of several months, Carlos was often detained by the Russian police. But that never swayed him from his goal to assist human beings in need of help.

Getting arrested all the time was hard enough for Carlos. The work he was doing was also very demanding, and when I came to see him, during the cold Moscow autumn, he told me that when his contract ran out he would really like to go somewhere a bit warmer.

He had after all grown up on the tropical island of Puerto Rico, and he thrived in tropical climates. Carlos was a romantic man and had always been fascinated by people and culture, and so he worked hard to get a posting somewhere in Southeast Asia. He finally got his posting in Indonesia, where the UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) sent him to work in West Timor.

Carlos liked being in Indonesia. He said it felt good to be surrounded by people who were polite and smiled and that the variety of cultures was enthralling, it was a pleasant change from the cold greyness of the Russian winter.

Carlos was sent to work in Betun and Atambua, to try to ensure the safety and well-being of hundreds of refugees, who had lost everything, and were stranded, far away from their homes. Carlos himself was also far away from home, working under extreme conditions, in what he described as an increasingly threatening atmosphere.

In the week before his death he spoke to me of his fears, as members of militia groups became increasingly threatening, always with impunity and often with local military collusion. He had actually began to feel relief during the occasions UNHCR staff had to leave their location, when the threats from the militias seemed increasingly serious.

But Carlos was set to get a well-deserved break from the madness of West Timor. From Sunday Sept. 10 he was going to be in Yogyakarta, to study the Indonesian language for three weeks. Carlos had a great talent for languages, and besides English, and his native language Spanish, he was also fluent in French, Czech and Russian. He was also eager to learn Indonesian, and he was looking forward to spending some time studying in Java's cultural capital. We had agreed to meet in Yogya next weekend, to go and see Boroboudur, the Sultan's palace, and all the other sights together.

I received an e-mail from Carlos, dated Sept. 4, saying that he was back in Atambua, after having been evacuated to Bali for a few days. That was the last contact I had with Carlos. I do not know why those in charge believed that it was safe enough for UNHCR to send their staff back to Atambua. From Carlos' e-mails it seemed clear to me that it was not.

Carlos did everything in his power to help people in need. He experienced great trials and hardships, to help those who had none to turn to. He tried to find a home for those who were homeless, and he saw to it that the hungry were fed. For this he was struck down by those who would raise vengeance above compassion.

The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon

Turns Ashes - or it prospers; and anon,

Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face

Lighting a little Hour or two - is gone

Tamam Shud (Omar Khayyam)

The writer is a human rights lawyer from Sweden, currently based in Jakarta.