First thoughts.

Date: 03 August 2010
Location: Dili, Timor Leste

The plane touched down on the tarmac with a rough bump, and upon getting out of the plane I was accosted by an oppressive wave of warmth. The heat was thick in the air, in a manner that both suffocated and offered no relief as a breeze blew in.

I'd been on many runways in my life, but seeing one like this was a unique experience. The airport was probably the simplest I'd ever seen for an international airport. It was flanked on one side by palm trees, and on the other by a high grilled fence. There was a sign that said "Welcome to Timor Leste", and that was it. About the only welcome message you would get in English.

When I entered the terminal, I could not help but notice that all the security personnel were from the UN. They came from a variety of countries, China, Thailand, Singapore and several other nations whose names I knew not because they were written in a foreign language. It was a reminder that even after so many years, the security of this fledgling nation still lay in the hands of outsiders.

Any illusion I had that this place would be anything like Singapore was quickly dispelled when the chartered bus came to pick us up. There wasn't enough space in the bus, so we had to load our luggage on the roof deck of the bus, which was a challenge, especially with the heavier pieces. The seats were ripped and torn, with the padding inside showing, and there was no air conditioning. You simply sat and tolerated the sweltering heat.

The streets of Dili were fascinating, because they resembled Malaysia but in a previous stage of development, maybe 30 years before. People clung precariously to the sides of buses, children played with dogs and chickens on the streets, and graffiti was scrawled across every wall imaginable. Every house was surrounded by a high fence tipped off with barb wire, to keep out stones and stone throwers.

Everywhere I went I got strange looks from the locals. Perhaps it was my camera, or how I looked and dressed unlike the people here. It seemed that wherever I went people took notice and behaved differently. Some would approach trying to sell me all manners of odds and ends, and the kids would pose for pictures, only to run shyly for cover once I put my camera to my eye.

The hotel was comfortable enough, nothing fancy but spacious and spartan, only that I broke the handle of the toilet door while trying to lock it, and during my shower the shower head came off in my hand and I was left with the hose.

Dinner was spent with talking to Singaporeans who had worked and stayed in Timor Leste for an extended period of time, and during this session we learnt more about the country we now found ourselves in. If there was any word I would use to describe this country I now found myself in, it would be raw. The whole place felt raw, from the stage of development, to my impression of its people.

The journey begins. 18 more days to go.

Funniest comment on Youtube I've seen in a long time.

"THUMBS ME UP PLEASE, I don't have anything important to say but I just NEED you to thumbs me up becauase it makes me feel SPECIAL."

Dude got 127 likes in a week. And the misspelling of "because" kind of makes it even funnier.

About to go trampling around in the wilderness

When I signed up for Gofar, I was aware that it would involve going to a third world country. However, I think that the reality that I'm about to leave Singapore to go to some backwater for over two weeks has not sunk in yet.

It will probably sink in on my first day in Dili, the capital of Timor Leste, when I look at the food and realise that maybe I didn't think through my decision enough to join the programme. This is also probably my last break before FYP and I'm about to spend it working my socks off in muddy villages while travelling on pothole ridden roads. I have been told that it's going to be crazy fun, which means that I know a few basket cases who are also eternal optimists.

I love eternal optimists, because they are my FML indicator. When I actually see them anything but optimistic, I know some shit has really happened. That is when I pull out my Forrest Gump lecture, which doesn't really help but I give it anyway.

"Life is like a box of chocolates. Sometimes, you get the expired ones. They taste bad, but you won't die."

Really, I would have welcomed a break after internship. I extended because I enjoyed the experience so much, but now that manliest of manly commitments called IPPT is looming and I have no means of training unless I undergo a guerrilla course in Timor.

Perhaps I could wake my roommate every morning to the sound of me jogging on the spot and doing pushups on the floor while huffing and puffing like an elephant. Because in exercise, no pain, no gain. Sometimes got pain, still no gain, except around the midriff area.

I'm pretty sure at the end of the trip we will be bosom buddies, if he doesn't try to kick me out of the room first.

Really, Timor Leste is really one of those places that I can't make up my mind about whether it's cool to visit. I mean, if I tell people that I went to South Africa, New Zealand, Argentina or some far flung but exotic place, people will start wondering what happened to their lives.

When I tell them I'm going to Timor Leste, they go "Huh where is that? Sounds damn tribal sia." When I try to explain, I realise that their attention has already shifted to something else. And nobody ever tells me that they envy me for going to somewhere so unique.

It's one of those places that people don't even put on their list of 100 places to visit before they die, because chances are they don't even know it exists. And even if they do, it'll probably be the 101st out of 100, and that is me being optimistic.

The most unique comment I've heard so far is that the service industry is extremely good there, particularly of the female escort variety. Well, now you know where to find great chicken.

I'm also rather miffed that I will not be able to play Starcraft 2 back at home. Did you see the number of grown men that shed tears or cheered like little boys at the countdown. It almost felt like they had seen the messiah. It was so big that the Straits Times gave its launch a cover page mention, which must be a first for any game anywhere.

So in preparation, instead of reading reports about the country, I'm now downloading shows to watch, because I realise that every night I will have nothing to do but catch up on them, which isn't really too bad. We're actually getting curfewed. How cool is that. Better buy more insurance.