Sunday bathing at UN beach

Sunday bathing at UN Beach and our last day together in Dili, East Timor.

Jules...?

...it is important to be able to laugh at oneself.

Boxing Day

Joy of Christmas

It is a light, where there may be darkness or doubt

and once again I begin to believe and trust in new beginnings.

To those I love,

I wish you a joyous and loving Christmas. 

Christmas Day Celebrations

Home

It takes a lot of living to make a house a home

It doesn’t make any difference how rich you get to be

How much your chairs and tables cost, how great your luxury

It isn’t home to you though it be the palace of a king,

Until somehow your soul is wrapped round everything.

A poem written by Edgar Guest

Understanding why

In stillness comes unexpected clarity. When my mind is still, I reflect upon beautiful memories, experiences and my love story which began in Florence, because it was a time in my life when I felt immensely joyous, connected to someone and hopeful.

It has taken me a long time to relinquish my emotions, faith and commitment. To unravel my (re)actions and to understand why I decided to decline his proposal on Elwood beach in Summer 2008, and in the back of my mind, I have kept replaying this pivotal moment because I wanted to understand, to forgive myself, to accept and finally to move forward. 

What I now understand is that I was trying to be true to him and to myself. I didn't lie. I did not play a game. I didn't say yes just because we loved one another and this seemed like a viable option. I declined, because I believed that we could not share an enduring future together. 

That moment on Elwood beach was our destiny point. I/we just didn't realise it at the time.

When we walk, one foot is in the past, whilst one is in the future. Clarity also occurs when we live life, one day at a time. 

Sunday in Dili

After a lazy Sunday morning sleep in, I paused my coffee brew so I could Skype-call the Girls. We had planned to chat all together once they had completed their weekly Swim Squad session at the Aquatic Centre in Albert Park. We had just established a reliable connection and I was giving them a tour of Wisteria Lane (our accommodation in Dili, Beach Garden Hotel), when a colleague walked past me and notified me that a Mass Casualty Exercise had been called. When we receive a call-out, we have less than 30 minutes to arrive at the base and so whilst I was excited to attend my first exercise at the base, it was a shame about the timing and I felt bad when I had to abruptly end our call, without even saying good-bye properly. Sorry babes. Hopefully we can chat again together next week.

The Mass Casualty Exercises are always interesting and dynamic. After a few hours at the base and a formal debrief; a few of us stopped off at a restaurant on our way home to have coffee and breakfast - and made the most of the disruption to our lazy Sunday morning plans.

It is now mid afternoon, and I have just returned home after having a fabulous deep body massage, exfoliation and mud wrap at Lorosae. A local Timorese establishment in Dili that is serene, relaxing and clean. Last week I had a deep massage and hot stone treatment, which was as wonderful. Both treatments have been wonderful and allowed me to relax, restore and day-dream. I also love their signature gesture of warm lemongrass tea sweetened with honey and sugar. 

Now I'm at home, listening to Norah Jones while I reflect, capture and record some impressions of Dili. The clouds out side look ominous. We have been hoping for rain and the first sound of thunder just began rumbling.

Understanding the history of East Timor

Dili was settled about 1520 by the Portuguese, who made it the capital of Portuguese Timor in 1769. It was proclaimed a city in January 1864. During World War II, Portugal and its colonies remained neutral, but the Allies saw East Timor as a potential target for Japanese invasion, and Australian and Dutch forces briefly occupied the island in 1941. In the night of the 19 February 1942, the Japanese attacked with a force of around 20,000 men, and occupied Dili before spreading out across the rest of the colony. On 26 September 1945, control of the island was officially returned to Portugal by the Japanese.

East Timor unilaterally declared independence from Portugal on 28 November 1975. However, nine days later, on 7 December, Indonesian forces invaded Dili. On 17 July 1976, Indonesia annexed East Timor, which it designated the 27th province of Indonesia, Timor Timur, with Dili as its capital. A guerrilla war ensued from 1975 to 1999 between Indonesian and pro-independence forces, during which tens of thousands of East Timorse and some foreign civilians were killed. Media coverage of the 1991 Dili Massacre helped revitalise international support for the East Timorese independence movement.

In 1999, East Timor was placed under UN supervision and on 20 May 2002, Dili became the capital of the newly independent Democratic Republic of Timor-Leste. In May 2006, fighting and rioting sparked by conflict between elements of the military caused significant damage to the city and led to foreign military intervention to restore order and Aspen medical was established in Dili at this time, to support the Australian Army.

Children of Dili

Dili National Hospital

Cristo Rei, Dili

This morning, after our daily sunrise walk to the Cristo Rei of Dili a 27 meter tall statue of Jesus situated on top of a globe at the east end of the peninsula in Dili (one of the main tourist attractions in East Timor, claimed to be the second tallest statue of its kind in the world and was a gift from the Indonesian Government),  a quick bite to eat and a shower Dr Paul and I attended the Friday medical round at the Guido Valadares National Hospital, formerly the Dili National Hospital. In 2011 it was recorded as having 260 beds, with secondary and tertiary healthcare services.

The structure and surrounds of the hospital appeared similar to other third world hospitals which I have seen in Honiara, Solomon Islands and Nuku'lofa, Tonga. Additionally, while I didn't have the opportunity to speak to many staff members, I imagine that their are also parallels in levels of professional education, clinical skills and available resources. 

The Timorese men, women and children I saw had a range of clinical conditions, including medical, oncology, surgical, trauma, and burns. Some had chronic conditions like alcoholism, hypothyroidism and previous surgical amputations. Apparently mental health issues are not diagnosed or if suspected are death with more traditional methods.

The  medical round was chaired by a Senior Medical Consultant, facilitated by an Australian Dr, and attended by a team of Registrars and junior doctors. Their was a even distribution of female and male doctors. No nurses attended the medical round. The consultation occurred around the patients bed and in front of other patients and their families. The patients and their families did not engage in any discussions, were rarely assessed or addressed and not encouraged to ask any questions. The staff rarely touched the patients except to remove a dressing or expose a wound. Clinical reasoning and education of the Registrars was minimal. The attitude of the Senior Medical Consultant (Timorese) made a lasting impression. He appeared extremely affluent, was well groomed, spoke Portuguese, English and Timorese. He was also unassumingly arrogant, aggressive towards the Registrars, and appeared to lack any genuine compassion or humanity.

I was grateful for the opportunity to attend the medical round and the opportunity to look into the faces of these people and their families; and I was left with the impression of how much the Timorese people have (and continue to) suffered. I thought about our Australian health care system, the multi disciplinary approach to evaluating and addressing the physical, psychological and anticipatory needs of patients, and our resources. I thought about how much I value a nurturing professional approach, the use of touch, eye contact, a smile, the exchange of information etc. I would willingly volunteer to work within these conditions to help and care for these people, but I know that it is not about making a difference, changing/improving a system; it is about long term sustainability and commitment. And I know that at this point in my life, I can not make that sort of commitment. All I could do was look into their eyes and hopefully through my genuine smile and empathy, convey a sense of my humanity and compassion for them.

Twelve Days to Christmas

As the twelve days to Christmas begins, my thoughts turn to family and close friends. 

Even though this year, there will be no made-with-love cards, midnight mass & carols, Christmas celebrations with friends, nurturing family traditions, and the annual Summer escape to the coast with my Belle's; for me Christmas still signifies a time to hope and trust in new beginnings. 

Happy Christmas

With love to you & your families. 

x

Arte Moris

Attended Arte Moris, Dili's contemporary art gallery. The buildign was originally a UN hospital and despite the uneven flooring, broken tiles, windows and plastered ceiling the art work on display by local art students illustrated a variety of techniques (mixed media, sculpture using old tyres and baskets, oil painting on local woven fabric, etchings, life drawings), and genres. Some artworks were expressive and whimsical, and many expressed the ongoing tragedy of life in East Timor.

People & their stories - Week Two

According to Stephen Fry, "our stories are what makes us human," and yet my experiences here, sometimes make me believe that people fear 'speaking their truth, listening completely to the words expressed by another individual and using language to experience the world'.

The colleagues that I am sharing my experiences with in Dili are at times complex to understand, yet fundamentally basic. They are nomadic in mind and spirit and even if that is how I too appear, I don't believe that I am like this. Rather I seek adventure to experience like's challenges; to better understand humanity and myself; and to maintain inspiration and balance. I may seem like I am constantly in flight and motion like a butterfly, but at my core I am content, hopeful and anchored to a place and people.

I suppose at times, I am perplexed by what I perceive as a 'service to oneself', the elusiveness of trust and honesty, and a fierce sense of entitlement. My reactions are also compounded by the fact that conversations are generally fixed on auto-play (i.e. where have you been? what have you eaten? who have you seen? etc etc). The majority of people are not interested in discussing cultural events, their passions or ideas and while I am comfortable with 'going-with-the-flow', I just wish that I could experience some sort of genuine human connection.

This is a recurring issue for me and it is time I accept that inspiration and energy comes from many unexpected things and rather than feel disillusioned, I should continue to cherish that moment at the end of each day, when I position myself at one of the restaurant balconies which overlook the sea, to drink Timorese coffee, absorb the colourful and fascinating landscape of Dili and day dream...

Timorese Christmas Party

Some of the beautiful Timorese children at the Aspen Medical Christmas Party at the Timor Lodge.

 

  

Surgeon Paul as Santa.

Jules, as James Bond (?)

Aspen Medical Timorese workers and their families.

BomBali

The horrific attacks of October 12th 2002 are best remembered by the Balinese in one simple phrase: "BomBali". The movie "BomBali" is told by survivors, the family and friends of those who were killed, and by the bombers themselves.

http://youtu.be/7yzexI1XQ5k

Life in Dili - Week One

Jules, at Beach Garden abode, Dili.

This photograph was taken a few days ago, whilst I was sitting in my house at Beach Gardens, Dili trying to cull the myriad of photos from my Scholarship in Milan in June/July. Behind me is a photo montage of inspirational images (i.e. dream board of travel, food, fashion and interior design images) which was beautifully constructed by a former occupant. These ensembles are throughout the house and make the rooms look really appealing and somewhat whimsical.

Although I'm still settling in current experiences could be summarized as.. the weather is not as humid and stifling as I had imagined; personal freedom and independence has to be curtailed to ensure safety and well being; colleagues are as varied in personalities as they are in their motives for begin here; expect the unexpected; the Timorese people are petite and largely under nourished; human life in Dili is not sacred; beach views and sunsets can be magical; education sessions and trauma training at the base has been brilliant; evenings out magical; and each day is a new day with new perspectives and opportunities to earn and discover more about myself and the world.

Today was rather glorious. A colleague and I had the day off, so after some time by the pool this morning, we wet for a 1.5hr hot stone massage and then went down to the beach for lunch. We sat under the shade of a palm tree, shuffling fine white sand with our toes as we looked out to sea and the low tide, while cattle grazed on the shoreline nearby. Then after returning home, we went to the pool and lounged about for a while before an afternoon siesta.

Its now 10pm and after a night at the local 'Art House' cinema to see BomBali, coffee and desert, its time for bed.

Good night.

Pearls

While perusing the internet in the search for some creative inspiration tonight, I find the following pearl from Doorways Traveler.

butterfly beach. august 2010.

http://www.doorwaystraveler.com

i find myself alone now more than ever before in my life. sometimes it is lonely. sometimes i want to rant and scream and call everyone i know at once. sometimes there just isn’t much to say. sometimes i have to force myself out the door. or to my altar. sometimes the time goes so quickly that i am shocked, like how the right conversation can carry on effortlessly through the sleep hours. i take long showers and i let the water scald my back as i watch the rivulets on the tile change directions with the touch of my fingertip. i follow the moth as it sacrifices life for the light, over and over again. i get lost in books and i think a lot. and then i try to move beyond the thoughts. once i even ran fast circles around my yard in the late starlight, tripping on oak roots as my bare feet became numb from the cold muddy grass. mostly, i just toss myself into the waves: the hot tears, the euphoria, the hollow expanses, the hummingbird flutters, the new, and the aged. there is accuracy in all of it. stillness, even. as if there is no place else to be.

Going with the flow