It’s December and it is Cristmas! Yeah, of course. December and Christmas are always understood as one package. At least that is what we have been understood and living with since my childhood.
Starting from November, Christmas songs played everywhere throughout the territory. From the twelve munipalities to Dili, the capital city of Timor-Leste. Various genre of Christmas songs are played at the shops, at the houses, in the Taxis, buses and in the ‘microlet’ (other sort of common public transportation) and also in the radios like a public reminder.
Christmas ornaments are everywhere decorating each houses, each ‘bairros’ (neighbourhood) and each corner of the city with glittering lamps and lights around the artificial Christmas trees. Shops open Christmas sale with discounts, grocery stores offering Christmas package displayed gracefully at the entrance of the shop. Local vendors open temporary street sale with many people crowding around looking for new clothes and stuff to buy in cheap price for Christmas and New Year. All those elements have made Christmas and New year materialsm spirit dominated the whole month and the mind of people to buy things and have fun. But this is not the real meaning of Christmas for me although I love to have new stuff but I am realistic enough on the ratio between the money in my pocket and the prices of things I desired for. The ratio is 1 by 5 and it’s not enough. Forget it! Who cares about me not wearing a new clothes or buy new stuff?
People say Christmas is the time to reunite with families and friends. And yes, all I want for Christmas is to be with my family. They live faraway from Dili city and it took me eight hours trip to reach the municipality where they live.
However, going there from Dili during Christmas and New-year week is really a struggle. This is the peak of busy week for buses to load passengers and seats are limited as they are mostly reserved to the loyal subscribing passengers. In normal days, buses will try to catch the passenger but in Christmas and New Year week, the passengers have to catch for buses. Who ran faster, will get the seat easier. Who came late, will have to stand along the way. Don’t ask how does it feel to stand in the bus along the long way home for eight hours. The roads are bumpy and curvy and it makes us shaking inside the bus everytime it takes a road turn. Not to mention, the exhausted driver who play loud music like discotic atmosphere to keep his sleepy eyes up, other passengers who smokes freely, or some other passengers who throw out from the window because of the car sick. In some cases, that exhausted driver may get a bit collapseD and causes the whole bus to be in a big trouble. A really ‘big trouble’ that may end your life or left you in bad injury because of road accident.
Christmas and New year are never easy here for those who have to return to their munipalities from Dili. Somehow, no matter how hard the trip is, people keep going to municipalities to see their family. It’s a worth thing to go through, though. Because today we may still be together, but tomorrow, who knows?
VZ, Dili, 23 December 2017
What do you see during the concert of pop music at heart of the city?
Is it the setting of the stage where the blinking lights are all around?
Is it the unstoppable speech of the host?
The native and foreign singers who sing with their beautiful voices?
The dancers who shake themselves in an amazing style?
Or, the crowds who surface like ants?
As for me. I am not only looking at these things.
Eyes of mine supposed to only look straightforward, yet they draw me to see a five-year-old boy holding a bunch of five balloons and selling them around.
Then, a father holding her little daughter buys a pink balloon from the five-year-old boy who sold the balloon. The father gives the balloon to her daughter. The little girl laughs out excitedly.
After that, a woman came along and took the little girl from her father. She kissed her daughter with laughter.
The three of them stand right in front of me holding the pink balloon they just bought and watching the concert of pop music at the heart of the city.
Now, I am the one who cannot see that concert of pop music at the heart of the city.
Largo Lecidere, Dili, Timor-leste, August 29, 2017
“A great photograph is one that fully expresses what one feels, in the deepest sense, about what is being photographed.”
― Ansel Adams
If there were a simple and practical way of time travelling around us today, then I would say that photography is one of it.
My first time encounter with David Palazon was back in 2013, at the office of the State Secretariat of Art and Culture (SSAC) in Villa Verde (today has moved to Praia dos Coqueiros Street), Dili, when I was working with UNESCO Art and Culture Programme as an administrative and programme assistant. At first sight, as a Timorese, I was a bit curious of David with his presence as a malae (foreigner in Tetum). Why does this malae willing to travel far away from Spain to Timor just to do all these fancy work of photography and all related stuff?
Before joining the UNESCO Art and Culture team, I used to think that art and culture is something fancy and has to be luxurious. But being introduced to David Palazon’s work as photographer and having the opportunity to witness his work with SSAC on the preservation programme of the tangible and intangible art and cultural heritage of Timor-Leste, made me realize the importance of art and culture documentation and preservation for Timor-Leste.
On doing his work of documenting the art and cultural events and objects in Timor-Leste through photography and videographical work, I saw that David’s passion and enthusiasm are painted in each of his work pieces. In gathering all these artistic and meaningful documentation, David also engaged the Timorese fellows in a collaborative work and together each of them express their messages on each photographical work they have produced on how rich the Timor-Leste art and culture is. From that time, I start to believe that Timor-Leste is indeed a wonderful land of art and culture and I would always admire it and appreciate it as a Timorese.
However, despite being Timorese and one can say being the owner of all this Timorese richness of art and culture heritage, a question rose in mind, how can we continue to value and preserve these heritage of art of culture? How can we share the beauty of this value of Timor-Leste art and culture to our fellow Timorese and to the world around us? As Timorese, we may already carry out the role of valuing and preserving by maintaining the continuous practice of the heritage. On the other hand, in the context of Timor-Leste’s fluctuating development progress, more effort is necessary to encourage the act of valuing and preserving the Timor-Leste art and culture. One of these efforts, as I would concern, is to have the documentation. As without it, we would lose some significant things in life.
Timor Runguranga is indeed has answered that concern of mine in a very artistic, satirical, mindful and yet heart-touching ways. When I received David’s invitation to attend the launching of the book in Timor Aid last year, I was kind of wondering, what exactly this photographical book would look like? The title word runguranga itself has caught my attention so much as it made think about messiness because runguranga as I understood it in Tetum, is everything related to messy and messiness. I had no idea why I pick up the book home only to keep it as collection and open a glimpse of it sometimes when I have a bit of free time. But once opening it, I start to promise myself that I have to go through the book and I did it at last.
After reading each page one by one, I laugh at myself on how I have underestimated this book. For me, looking at the pictures displayed inside it, has gave that sense of looking at the old family photo in a thick photo album. So nostalgic and emotional until you want to smile, laugh, frown and cry at the same time. Why? Because this book has captured how life has going on in Timor-Leste lately since its independence in 2000s. Within the decades, the runguranga essence that kept decorating the independence progress of Timor-Leste has brought us to learn many things as a new emerging country and that being runguranga has shaped us to grow along with the turmoil of the modern globalized world.
This book, being as a diary and memoir, has also capture the exchange of feelings as well as the exchange of collaboration between the insider and outsider who met in this small world of Timor-Leste and entwined them both in a world of rungurunga that only each of them can perceived when they were here. As some wise man has said; do not judge a book by its cover or do not judge people by its outer appearance then I would say do not judge a country if you have not been there. This book will confirm that saying with the collaborative work it displayed and the emotional sense each source person has shared.
This is why I found this book to be one of the inspiring photographic books I have ever seen. Apart of being a photo album, diary or memoir, this book, is also a fairytale storybook of Timor-Leste that one may share to their friends, family and children who would like to visit Timor-Leste or to see Timor-Leste in the past decades. I would also say that this book would be a collection of inspiration and motivation for me as a Timorese, to help advocate the art and culture preservation in Timor-Leste. As for the visitors who would like to know about Timor-Leste this book is very recommendable as an indirect tour guide.
To conclude, I would like to say that Timor Runguranga is the answer of my first impression quest to David himself which today I have called as maun (brother in Tetum) David, on why he is willing to travel from far-far- away land of Spain to Timor-Leste. By reflecting his Gulliverian journey throughout all territory of Timor-Leste in this book, I would call him ‘the male version of Alice in Wonderland’.
To buy the book, please follow the link below:
Further infromation about David Palazon’s work can be found in this link:
I live in Dili and I love to read novels, watching movies, listen to beautiful musics and wrote things I found interesting.
Dili, 31 July 2017
It was the last day of June 2013.
I was full of excitement as a teen.
Waiting for my Sriwijaya flight at the Nicolau Lobato Airport in Dili.
With a mind of a wanderer, I asked, “Would this trip be a jolly?”.
Later the flight came and I went ahead in a tremble along the departure gate.
I got on the airplane; a beautiful air hostess with red dress greeted me.
She had the most beautiful smile of the day.
I showed her my boarding pass; she guided me to my seat.
I sat contently yet carefully paying attention instead.
Another air hostess was demonstrating the flight safety guide.
After an hour, the plane left the ground and started to take off. My heart jumped.
‘I am flying high!’ my mind exclaimed.
It was my first trip from Dili to Jakarta.
There is a short transit at Ngurah Rai airport of Denpasar in Bali.
That was also my first time to see Bali, although just at a glance.
Down there, I saw Bali’s beautiful blue sea with the white cliffs.
The red-brown houses formed like beads.
They spread over a huge green carpet of its green field.
A very long bridge shaped a curvy line over the sea.
How I wondered to explore those places one day.
“Oh, how wonderful isn’t it?” myself said.
I had heard about Bali since I was a child in 1990s.
People said that Bali is an island of gods, a paradise for tourists.
That time, I wish that one day I too could visit Bali, as a tourist.
I wanted to see the gods. I wanted to enjoy being at its paradise.
Finally, my wish did come true. Even though only for an instance.
Vitalia Ze, Dili-Bali-Jakarta, 30 June 2013.
It was a hot day in Jakarta
I was enjoying my first lunch
A plate of soft white rice
Accompanied with fried tofu, fried tempe* and an appetite-teasing brown fried chicken
The delicious jackfruit Gudeg* in a glossy redness to me
Together they greeted me with their special aromas
That was my first lunch in Jakarta
VZ, Jakarta, July 2013
*Tempe = A specific Indonesian food made from boiled soybeans and fermented then become a soybean bars.
** Gudeg = An Indonesian-specific red curry dish made using jackfruit and is typical of popular food from Yogyakarta, Indonesia.
Yesterday, in the afternoon, I stood on the roadside of Caicoli Street hailing a yellow taxi, which then stopped right in front of me.
Immediately, I opened the door and sat in the seat behind the driver, and then said, ‘ Please take me to Becora maun*. “The driver nodded as he continued to drive.
From the car window, I looked at the weather of Dili that was having a gray overcast. Perhaps, soon it will be raining. I felt the taxi is running a bit slow.
“Will you hurry up sir? Actually, I’m in a hurry. “I begged.
“Yes, mana**. But on this hour, it is usually jammed. I also want to be quick but there are many cars in front of us. “I sighed impatiently. In front of us, a Land Rover car also drove slowly.
“Yeah. You are right. This hour is usually a jammed hour. Usually, the most stalled roads are the roundabout of Merkadu Lama Street, and the crossings of Audian and Kuluhun Street. ”
“Yeah, those places are the point of congestion in the city center of Dili.” The driver replied.
We arrived at the Audian intersection road and there was a traffic jam because it was going-home time. One and two traffic police officers were on standby guarding in the middle of the road but traffic jams kept trapping the people. We were forced to stop for a few minutes before getting through.
“Mana, look at those police officers. They only served there until the high ranked officials passed by. After that, they too will go home.” Said the driver.
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “I did not know about this. Instead, they must be on guard until night, mustn’t they?
“Right mana. They supposed to do so. Until now, the traffic police we have do not stay up until nights. Do you know what mana? The traffic police officers often make us their victims. “He sighed.
“Victims? Victims of what? “I asked curiously.
Each time they do a checkpoint, they often try to find excuses to blame us so that we pay a fine. ”
“Geez. Is that true? Then you would have to complete all the documents from being fined, right?”
“Yes, of course. We indeed already have the complete document and driving license. Otherwise, how can we drive our cars for public transport? Ah, these police officers also do bully on us. If we complete the document, they will check our lights. If the lamps are complete, they will check if we were wearing the full uniform or not. If we were caught only wearing our pants and not wearing the shirt then still we will be fined. Yet mana, the uniform has a thick fabric and it got us sweltering. Especially on a hot day. ”
“Hmmm … really? Did they give you the bills or ticket to justify their reason to fine? Usually, this ticket or bill should be paid at the transportation department office and not be paid directly to them.” I said wistfully.
” No mana. Not at all. They did not even give us any bills or ticket when they fine us. They just insisted us to pay the fine right away. We have to give away the money so they can let us go. We cannot be stuck with them all day long. We need to chase our passengers to earn a little amount of money for our family.” He continued to grumble but I look at him in disbelief and felt a little sympathy for him.
“And mana. What even worse is that these police officers sometimes also liked to threaten us. Especially those who are from Lorosa’e (Eastern regions of Timor-Leste). If they knew we are coming from Loromonu (Western regions of Timor-Leste), they will continue to hold our small mistakes and not letting us go quickly. While for other drivers, if they are known both come from the Lorosa’e, they would be allowed to go as soon as possible. ”
“Ah, that’s not fair maun. Maun and your friends should bring this as a complaint to the Department Of Land Transportation office. Do not just let it happen. Later, they may behave worse in their actions. ”
“Yes, we supposed to be so mana. But what can we do? Later if we report to the Transportation Department office, we will be sent home. It is just a waste of time, though. “The driver said in a desperate face.
When we had reached the front of Fuxida shop, a Chinese-owned shop in Kamea road of Becora, I immediately asked him to stop.
“I get off here maun.” I looked for my purse inside the bag and pulled four coins valued 50 cents each to give him.
“Thanks, maun. Do not give up ya. “I said smiling and then got out of the taxi and shut the door. Instantly, I saw a beam of spirit in his eyes.
*maun = brother in Tetum language
*mana = sister in Tetum language.
Along the way of Caicoli-Becora, Dili, 3 March 2017
Debus Seloi lake
According to a local people I met, the word Debus mean lake in Mambae, a dialect spoken by people from Aileu. Seloi is a village in Aileu municipality, a municipality in the northwestern part of Timor-Leste and is one of only two landlocked districts, the other being Ermera. It borders Dili to the north, Manatuto to the east, Manufahi to the southeast, Ainaro to the south, Ermera to the west, and Liquiçá to the northwest. It was formerly part of the district of Dili but was split in the final years of Portuguese administration.
I had my first visit to this lake in 2013 during an office assignment. To get to this lake, one has to travel during one hour from Aileu Villa (Aileu city) with a four-wheel drive typed vehicle to reach this village. It takes around one and a half hour to reach Aileu from Dili. I did not go closely to the lake but I could only enjoy the view from the hill. Debus Seloi is a permanent lake that becomes the source of irrigation for rice fields and the vegetable field surrounding it.Looking at the Debus Seloi from the hill where I stand made me shiver with its serenity as the cold wind blowing slowly towards me. Aileu has a cold and fresh weather temperature.
A local people came nearby greeted me friendly and I greeted him as well. He then told me that every year prior to harvesting time, there is a communal traditional thanksgiving ceremony held in this lake. People in Seloi village mostly grow paddies, corns, and vegetables. Indeed these agricultural products become the supply for vegetable stocks in Dili, the capital city of Timor-Leste. A ceremony he told me has held annually as an act of gratitude towards the universe and the soul of deceased ancestors for the blessings on the crops for this year and the hope for best harvest for the coming years as well.
Prior to the ceremony, the head of each sub-village together with the Lianain (traditional village authority) in the Seloi villages will make coordination in order to discuss the materials needed for the ceremony and the contents of the ceremony programs. Within this coordination, an agreement will need to settle as well as the certain arrangement and task distributions to be made amongst the head of villages to organize their people to work for the preparation of the ceremony. On the agreement of the coordination, each head of villages arrange will animals such as buffaloes, chickens, goats or pigs to be sacrificed during the ceremony as an offer to the rituals. Later during the ceremony, the sacrificed animals will be handover to the community to be cooked and consumed during the ceremonial festivity. During this festivity and local men and women, adults and young people will be expected to participate in the ceremony as a compulsory social contribution.
Apart of the ceremony, there is a fishing race program held, where each representative from the sub-villages will participate and do the fishing in the lake as a symbol of gathering the lucky for the village. The more fish every fisher caught, the luckier the fisher would be and as well as his sub-village, the local villager told me. However, the fish that have been caught are not allowed to be taken to the home and should be returned back to the lake as the fish are considered by the Lianain as sacred entities and they are the spiritual owner of the lake who looks after the lake and maintains the water in the lake to continue available for the village.
During the ceremony, there will be dancing and singing in traditional ways such as Dahur (dancing and singing together in the group) and Tebe (rhythmical step dancing with traditional acoustic drum instruments called Babadok) where everyone can enjoy the festivity.
VZ, Aileu, 2013