East Timor is not as frightening as it seems

East Timor is not as frightening as it seems

Text by T. Sima Gunawan and 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 Fatucama Hill, and it can be seen from all directions, from
the road and from the air.

Up to 50 people can stand in the grounds around the statue.
About 100 meters from the statue, an altar is being built. A
concrete stairway of 170 steps leads from the altar to the
statue.

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

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

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