Dili is not as scary as it sounds

Text by T. Sima Gunawan Photos by Arief Suhardiman

DILI, East Timor (JP): "What's East Timor like? Is it really scary as often portrayed in the media?"

These are the frequently asked questions by people outside of East Timor. People's concerns are understandable given all the "scary" stories coming out of the province.

A former Portuguese colony, East Timor formally became part of Indonesia when a group of tribal leaders declared their intention to join the republic in late 1975. On July 17, 1976, their request was formally approved by President Soeharto. The territory became the 27th province of Indonesia, although the United Nations has refused to recognize it as a part of Indonesia.

In the 20 years since integration, peace has been elusive in the predominantly Catholic territory. First there were the guerrilla wars waged by separatist rebels. In recent years, there has been violence in the cities, often triggered by religious and racial tension. The last incident occurred late in June in the Ermera regency, which is only about an hour's drive from Dili, the capital of East Timor.

With the recent history of East Timor in mind, I come here on assignment by my editor to get a first-hand glimpse of what life is like in East Timor.

So I boarded a Merpati flight in Jakarta at six o'clock one recent morning and landed at the Comoro airport in Dili at around noon: a one hour time difference exists between Jakarta and Dili.

My heart pounds as the F-28 aircraft lands at Comoro.

There are no armed soldiers to check the passengers as I had expected. But I was surprised to find the iron gate of the arrival lounge locked.

"You can't leave now. You have to wait for other passengers. The door will be opened after they collect their baggage. All passengers have to go out together," says an airport officer. "This regulation is to prevent any unexpected incident. If we open the door now, many people from outside will flood the arrival hall," he explains.

The first thought that comes to mind is that they are holding passengers to allow plainclothes intelligence officers to scrutinize every new arrival. This is later denied by East Timor military chief Col. Mahidin Simbolon.

Just like the airport officer said, once the door to the arrival hall opens, impatient people push their way into the room to greet passengers.

Perhaps the airport officer is right after all. Maybe they are locking us in the arrival hall to protect us from thieves and pickpockets. Maybe the "scary" stories about East Timor are making me paranoid.

From the airport, I take a blue cab to the Mahkota Timor Hotel. Like other taxis in the city, it is very old and far from comfortable. But the taxi driver is friendly -- just like the other drivers I meet later.

The hotel is a far cry from Jakarta's standards. It certainly doesn't make its claim as "the first luxury hotel in East Timor".

My Rp 70,000-a-night, air-conditioned room is infested by mosquitoes, which suck my blood while I sleep. I did not bring any quinine pills as suggested by a tourist guide book which I read aboard the aircraft on my way here.

Dili is one of East Timor's 13 regencies. The total population of East Timor is around 850,000; at least 150,000 live in Dili.

It is hot and humid in Dili. The temperature rises above 30 degrees Celsius. Driving to the hotel, we pass the dry Comoro river in which people were mining sand and pebbles.

"There is much water during the rainy season," the taxi driver says.

Arriving at the hotel, I could hardly believe it was in the heart of the city. There is a park across from the hotel, the road is smooth and clean, but deserted.

I learned later that most shops close at 1 p.m. and reopen at 3 p.m. or 4 p.m.. They close again at 8 p.m..

In the mornings, the police are out directing traffic. And trucks loaded with soldiers pass two or three times a day.

Are these signs that Dili is unsafe?

"If there is a policeman around, you should feel safe. How could you say otherwise?" Governor Abilio Jose Osorio Soares says in answer to my question.

Most people I meet assured me that Dili is safe.

But a fruit supplier from Sulawesi, who I meet on a public bus, says he is constantly on the alert in case of religious or racial conflicts because he is a Moslem and a pendatang (migrant). "We should be careful," he says.

As a tourist, I feel safe moving around Dili. Nobody disturbed me.

A few men seat at a roadside, idly passing time. Some of them stare at me, but this happens in other places. They doe not bother me.

My new friend, a Dili resident, says the crime rate was low. He says he often parked his car on the roadside with the window open. "No one will steal the car. But I will close the window and lock the door if I have a bag or valuables in it."

There are very few private cars in Dili.

Most people use public transport: taxis, buses or mikrolet (minibuses). Taxis are available for rent at Rp 10,000 an hour.

A short ride -- one or two kilometers -- costs Rp 1,000. Motorcycles are also available for rent at Rp 20,000 a day.

At night Dili is dead. The only cinema in town shows old movies -- mostly Indonesian films. There are no discotheques or night clubs, but Dili has three karaoke lounges.

"I don't like karaoke, but on weekends I often go to a party for fun," a young woman says.

The East Timorese like to throw parties and dance the night away, she adds.

Although there are no ritzy night spots, this doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself in Dili.

The town has beautiful beaches.

The official residences of Governor Abilio Jose Soares, provincial military commander Col. M. Simbolon and the Dili Bishop, Carlos Filipe Ximenes Belo, face the promenade.

Pasir Putih (White Beach) is the town's most famous beach. The water is deep blue and green, and seafood restaurants line the beach.

On my last night in Dili, I have dinner at White Beach with friends.

The waiter shows us a big container full of fresh fish and asked us to choose. In the container are squids bigger than my palms, and there are shrimps. They don't serve lobsters.

Three big kakap fish, two giant squids, some shrimps, a lot of rice, several glasses of iced tea and orange juice and a packet of clove cigarettes cost less than Rp 50,000.

The most impressive thing in Dili is the 25-ton statue of Kristus Raja or Christ the King. The 17-meter statue stands on the top of the Fatucama Hill, and it can be seen from all directions, from the road and from the air.

More than a religious monument, the statue will obviously become a major tourist attraction in Dili.

Workers are laying bricks as paving surrounding the statue. A stairway with 170 steps has been built from the foot of the hill to the top.

Construction of the statue, costing Rp 6 billion ($2.6 million), started in May 1994 and the project is scheduled to be completed soon.

"Hopefully, we can finish the project by the end of the month," a worker says.