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Saturday, July 16, 2011
Fresh Strawberries
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We always seem to crave the very things that we can't have -- strawberries are hard to come by here in Timor. I happened to come across this photo I snapped in '06 or '07 along a roadside in Tajikistan. The berries there are absolutely amazing -- sweet with just a hint of tartness.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Tree Farmers
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Augustino Matos da Silva grows teak and mahogany trees on his land in Bucoli -- a village near Timor-Leste's second largest city, Baucau. When the trees mature, he's hoping to make as much as $5,000 dollars for each of his teak trees. He says he'd like to build a permanent house, one day.
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| Augustino outside his home in Bucoli Village |
Endless Waiting
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I met a couple in Baucau the other day who told me a story that breaks your heart.
The man, Alberto, sat with his hands in his lap and his eyes on the table in front of him -- he spoke softly. His voice sounded tired and hopeless.
Alberto explained to me that on June 9th, his daughter went missing. "The last time I saw her, she was standing in the kitchen at the house. Since then, there has been so many sleepless nights."
It's a complicated story.
It began about two years ago when his then 16 year old daughter became pregnant. The father of the child is a married man who lives next door. He has admitted being the father, and agreed to pay $2,000 in child support, but never paid a dime.
The man's wife apparently made threats to the girl's family and according to Alberto, told him and his wife, that she was going to kill the girl. That same day, the girl disappeared. The police were called and they interviewed the woman who made the threats, but then she apparently denied making them. The police said it's her word against theirs and since there were no other witnesses, nothing can be done.
The police have launched a search for the missing girl, but Alberto says they have no leads. He and his wife are caring for their two-year old granddaughter -- praying they will get some good news soon.
The man, Alberto, sat with his hands in his lap and his eyes on the table in front of him -- he spoke softly. His voice sounded tired and hopeless.
Alberto explained to me that on June 9th, his daughter went missing. "The last time I saw her, she was standing in the kitchen at the house. Since then, there has been so many sleepless nights."
It's a complicated story.
It began about two years ago when his then 16 year old daughter became pregnant. The father of the child is a married man who lives next door. He has admitted being the father, and agreed to pay $2,000 in child support, but never paid a dime.
The man's wife apparently made threats to the girl's family and according to Alberto, told him and his wife, that she was going to kill the girl. That same day, the girl disappeared. The police were called and they interviewed the woman who made the threats, but then she apparently denied making them. The police said it's her word against theirs and since there were no other witnesses, nothing can be done.
The police have launched a search for the missing girl, but Alberto says they have no leads. He and his wife are caring for their two-year old granddaughter -- praying they will get some good news soon.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Candle Nuts
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I met 60-year old Etalvina de Sousa up a dusty road in rural eastern Timor-Leste today. She's a farmer and one of her crops is candle nuts. If you wear cosmetics, you may be wearing some of Ms de Sousa's candle nuts. The nuts are used in, among other things, cosmetics. Locally, the meat of the candle nut is smashed and then mixed with cotton to make candles!
She's got 36 trees and carries the nuts in a sack on her back down to her house where she shells them and then sells them to a buyer. She can carry about 20 pounds of candle nuts in one trip.
The shelling process is an art form -- she uses a piece of a hardened tropical leave as the tool. She inserts the candle nut into a hole at the end of the leaf and then hits it once or twice on a piece of rock. If done correctly, the whole candle nut pops out. She told me it takes her about two hours to shell one kilogram of candle nuts.
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| Ms de Sousa stands under a candle nut tree. |
She's got 36 trees and carries the nuts in a sack on her back down to her house where she shells them and then sells them to a buyer. She can carry about 20 pounds of candle nuts in one trip.
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| Shelling the candle nut is an art form. |
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Avoid the Front Seat!
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Dili is blessed? with zillions of slow-moving taxis.
I take one each morning to work. I step outside my hotel and within 30 seconds one shows up -- turns the corner at the end of the street, spots me, toots his horn as if to 'I'm here, you need me' and stops.
I usually climb into the front seat since the driver never knows the place that I need to go and it's just easier to show him where to make the turns. One day last week as I opened the front door to sit down -- there was a huge wet spot on the seat. I quickly settled myself into the back seat.
Today, no wet spot, but another hazard that I just didn't notice til I sat down. The driver had placed a heavy metal pipe across the ceiling -- so it was almost impossible for me to sit up straight without banging my head. Then, when I tried to lean toward the window, there was a huge pink heart ornament dangling from the ceiling -- I was surprised I hadn't noticed it when I got in. It banged against my left ear the whole way to the office.
It's also nearly impossible to see out the windshield. I've noticed that more than one driver has installed little round mirrors on the passenger side windshield. All the mirrors face the driver. I'm not sure what purpose they serve other than a chance for the driver to check himself out in the mirror as he drives along at 20 miles an hour.
When we arrive at my office, most drivers smile and say --"yes, yes, yes" -- as if they knew all along where I needed to go.
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| The driver wanted to make sure his taxi smelled real good. There were five air freshners hanging from the ceiling. |
I take one each morning to work. I step outside my hotel and within 30 seconds one shows up -- turns the corner at the end of the street, spots me, toots his horn as if to 'I'm here, you need me' and stops.
I usually climb into the front seat since the driver never knows the place that I need to go and it's just easier to show him where to make the turns. One day last week as I opened the front door to sit down -- there was a huge wet spot on the seat. I quickly settled myself into the back seat.
Today, no wet spot, but another hazard that I just didn't notice til I sat down. The driver had placed a heavy metal pipe across the ceiling -- so it was almost impossible for me to sit up straight without banging my head. Then, when I tried to lean toward the window, there was a huge pink heart ornament dangling from the ceiling -- I was surprised I hadn't noticed it when I got in. It banged against my left ear the whole way to the office.
It's also nearly impossible to see out the windshield. I've noticed that more than one driver has installed little round mirrors on the passenger side windshield. All the mirrors face the driver. I'm not sure what purpose they serve other than a chance for the driver to check himself out in the mirror as he drives along at 20 miles an hour.
When we arrive at my office, most drivers smile and say --"yes, yes, yes" -- as if they knew all along where I needed to go.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Comfy, but Noisy
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I found what I thought would be a cozy place to read -- the second floor veranda of my hotel here in Dili. It is hidden away with a big comfy couch. There's never anyone there.
I think I know why.
I had forgotten about the noise pollution of Dili. It is absolutely horrendous -- made so by motorbikes without mufflers, big trucks with screaming engines and small cars with big stereo systems going boom, boom, boom.
I was determined to make this place a hideaway -- on several occasions today I went out -- stayed a few minutes and just couldn't bear it any longer. Even though I was trying to get "lost" in my book, I found myself getting irritable for no reason at all. As soon as I walked back inside -- I was fine.
It is common knowledge that noise pollution causes stress -- can even lead to health problems if it remains a constant in your life. I remember my old apartment here in Dili -- it, too, was very noisy. In fact, it was so much so that if you wanted to watch TV -- I had to run the captions. Now, at least, I can escape from that cozy couch, back into the AC where the noise is masked!
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| Cozy, but.... |
I had forgotten about the noise pollution of Dili. It is absolutely horrendous -- made so by motorbikes without mufflers, big trucks with screaming engines and small cars with big stereo systems going boom, boom, boom.
I was determined to make this place a hideaway -- on several occasions today I went out -- stayed a few minutes and just couldn't bear it any longer. Even though I was trying to get "lost" in my book, I found myself getting irritable for no reason at all. As soon as I walked back inside -- I was fine.
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| Some of the culprits! |
It is common knowledge that noise pollution causes stress -- can even lead to health problems if it remains a constant in your life. I remember my old apartment here in Dili -- it, too, was very noisy. In fact, it was so much so that if you wanted to watch TV -- I had to run the captions. Now, at least, I can escape from that cozy couch, back into the AC where the noise is masked!
Friday, July 1, 2011
The Coffee Source
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I am not a coffee drinker. But...I could become one -- especially after today. First, I have never had a cup of coffee -- just a few sips -- until this afternoon around 3:30.
I arrived in the Timorese coffee town (village) of Estabo -- about three hours outside Dili. A beautiful mountain village located along a rough narrow road that zigs and zags for dozens of kilometers. There are coffee trees everywhere -- shaded by giant trees that serve as umbrellas against the tropical sun.
In Estado, farmers are beginning to prune their trees to make them have a higher yield of coffee beans. I wanted to see the results. I met farmer Manuel Ximenes, who's been growing coffee beans for 30 years, in the middle of town where he proceeded to take me over to some of his 280 trees. "See these big beans, they are the result of pruning," he sounds proudly as a huge grin appeared on his face. Before pruning, he got 1-2 kilos per tree -- now he gets anywhere from 4-6 kilos of beans from those same trees.
Our next stop was the Coffee Cooperative of Timor -- the place that sells most of its coffee to Starbucks. I was offered a cup and almost said 'no, I don't drink,' but said 'yes, of course!'
It was excellent -- a smooth, pleasant after taste -- nothing bitter about this coffee. It was too bad we had to leave after a 15 minute chat with the coffee folks -- I would have probably had another cup!
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| Coffee farmer Manuel Ximenes |
I arrived in the Timorese coffee town (village) of Estabo -- about three hours outside Dili. A beautiful mountain village located along a rough narrow road that zigs and zags for dozens of kilometers. There are coffee trees everywhere -- shaded by giant trees that serve as umbrellas against the tropical sun.
In Estado, farmers are beginning to prune their trees to make them have a higher yield of coffee beans. I wanted to see the results. I met farmer Manuel Ximenes, who's been growing coffee beans for 30 years, in the middle of town where he proceeded to take me over to some of his 280 trees. "See these big beans, they are the result of pruning," he sounds proudly as a huge grin appeared on his face. Before pruning, he got 1-2 kilos per tree -- now he gets anywhere from 4-6 kilos of beans from those same trees.
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| Newly picked beans! |
It was excellent -- a smooth, pleasant after taste -- nothing bitter about this coffee. It was too bad we had to leave after a 15 minute chat with the coffee folks -- I would have probably had another cup!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Return to Asia
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I am writing this from the departure lounge at Chiangi Airport in Singapore where I am surrounded by others who are making their way to East Timor. I am returning there for a few weeks on a consulting mission.
I have written about Singapore airport before, but it remains first class. One of, if not the best airport, in the world. Lots to do and easy to get around. Shoot, it's even got a swimming pool, but I arrived too late to take advantage.
I write with a fuzzy brain and sleepy eyes after only about three hours of sleep. I can't sleep on planes, which is unfortunate when you are flying more than 23 hours. The transit hotel here in Singapore was comfortable, but I had been awake too long to even sleep -- too tired to sleep.
I am looking forward to reconnecting with friends and colleagues in Timor. It'll be my first return since my departure in December of last year -- after having lived there for two years. On this trip, I will get a chance to delve deeper into some of the programs that are designed to make life better for the Timorese people.
I have written about Singapore airport before, but it remains first class. One of, if not the best airport, in the world. Lots to do and easy to get around. Shoot, it's even got a swimming pool, but I arrived too late to take advantage.
I write with a fuzzy brain and sleepy eyes after only about three hours of sleep. I can't sleep on planes, which is unfortunate when you are flying more than 23 hours. The transit hotel here in Singapore was comfortable, but I had been awake too long to even sleep -- too tired to sleep.
I am looking forward to reconnecting with friends and colleagues in Timor. It'll be my first return since my departure in December of last year -- after having lived there for two years. On this trip, I will get a chance to delve deeper into some of the programs that are designed to make life better for the Timorese people.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Sloooowwwww Internet
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For the past few months I have enjoyed a DSL internet connection in a small town; however, I am about to move to an internet dead zone -- or near dead zone.
I am taking up residence in a rural area outside this small town -- where there are very limited options: dial-up, ridiculously expensive satellite internet and a slightly faster than dial-up service via air modem through a local phone company.
The first thing I had to do was get a device to boost the mobile phone and data signal -- the mobile phone didn't work at all. So, for 350 bucks I bought a booster that includes an outdoor antenna mounted about 20 feet into the air. I went from no bars on my phone to four bars -- impressive! The data service; however, remains only slightly faster than dial-up -- forget watching YouTube or live streaming.
It is going to be difficult to step back to a slow internet connection; however, I do have a great view outside my window of a beautiful mountain covered with trees -- the same mountain that is blocking my high speed data signal.
I am taking up residence in a rural area outside this small town -- where there are very limited options: dial-up, ridiculously expensive satellite internet and a slightly faster than dial-up service via air modem through a local phone company.
The first thing I had to do was get a device to boost the mobile phone and data signal -- the mobile phone didn't work at all. So, for 350 bucks I bought a booster that includes an outdoor antenna mounted about 20 feet into the air. I went from no bars on my phone to four bars -- impressive! The data service; however, remains only slightly faster than dial-up -- forget watching YouTube or live streaming.
It is going to be difficult to step back to a slow internet connection; however, I do have a great view outside my window of a beautiful mountain covered with trees -- the same mountain that is blocking my high speed data signal.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Rattle Tattle
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These beautiful specimens were spotted at a Nature Center in Asheville -- they are mountain rattle snakes -- check out their rattles!
I've yet to see any in the wild this spring -- only black snakes, so far.
I've been away from this blog for a few days after my laptop died -- the motherboard-- so it's not worth fixing. I've ordered a new one, but for now, I'm using my old reliable HP -- purchased in '03. It's slow, but it has excellent Harman/Kardon speakers.
Looking forward to my new Toshiba -- also with H/K speakers!
I've yet to see any in the wild this spring -- only black snakes, so far.
I've been away from this blog for a few days after my laptop died -- the motherboard-- so it's not worth fixing. I've ordered a new one, but for now, I'm using my old reliable HP -- purchased in '03. It's slow, but it has excellent Harman/Kardon speakers.
Looking forward to my new Toshiba -- also with H/K speakers!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
E.R.
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I had forgotten what it was like to visit a hospital emergency room until last evening when I took my dad there. He's fine now -- just a little sleep deprived after nearly seven hours -- most of that time - waiting.
It's a great place to "people watch," although I did bring along my Kindle in order to tune out during much of the overnight. (We arrived at around 9:30pm and were checked out at around 4:30am.)
The place was packed and a nurse told me this is normal --- 'particularly just before, during and after a full moon.' It's crazy, she said, unable to explain the phenomena.
Anyway, there was 'barf man.' A guy who kept walking around the waiting room with a bag -- barfing in front of everyone. Finally, they called him up to check his weight and temperature. I'm sure he lost 2-3 pounds in the waiting room -- from barfing, alone. After the nurse pulled the thermometer out of Barf Man's mouth -- he took an extra few seconds to clean it. I joked to my dad that he would probably be called next for the weight and temperature check. Sure enough, he was. The same thermometer, now apparently sterilized, went into my dad's mouth. We both chuckled. He seemed fine with it -- alcohol sterilizes everything, I guess.
Later, an elderly lady, who'd been sitting quietly in a wheelchair stood up and started walking around the waiting room. Suddenly, she started moaning as she walked. Finally, an attendant told her that if she really did have a fractured ankle she should not be up and about. She continued to pace and moan. Heartbreaking. The nurse finally took her back to visit the doctor.
As I was sitting alone, waiting, a young woman suddenly looked at me and started speaking. Her first words were "I know this hospital well. My husband just had a massive heart attack at the age of 32. I'm here, she told me, because she had just had a hysterectomy and that green pus was now oozing from her body. I wasn't sure what to say to that so I just nodded and opened my Kindle.
It's a great place to "people watch," although I did bring along my Kindle in order to tune out during much of the overnight. (We arrived at around 9:30pm and were checked out at around 4:30am.)
The place was packed and a nurse told me this is normal --- 'particularly just before, during and after a full moon.' It's crazy, she said, unable to explain the phenomena.
Anyway, there was 'barf man.' A guy who kept walking around the waiting room with a bag -- barfing in front of everyone. Finally, they called him up to check his weight and temperature. I'm sure he lost 2-3 pounds in the waiting room -- from barfing, alone. After the nurse pulled the thermometer out of Barf Man's mouth -- he took an extra few seconds to clean it. I joked to my dad that he would probably be called next for the weight and temperature check. Sure enough, he was. The same thermometer, now apparently sterilized, went into my dad's mouth. We both chuckled. He seemed fine with it -- alcohol sterilizes everything, I guess.
Later, an elderly lady, who'd been sitting quietly in a wheelchair stood up and started walking around the waiting room. Suddenly, she started moaning as she walked. Finally, an attendant told her that if she really did have a fractured ankle she should not be up and about. She continued to pace and moan. Heartbreaking. The nurse finally took her back to visit the doctor.
As I was sitting alone, waiting, a young woman suddenly looked at me and started speaking. Her first words were "I know this hospital well. My husband just had a massive heart attack at the age of 32. I'm here, she told me, because she had just had a hysterectomy and that green pus was now oozing from her body. I wasn't sure what to say to that so I just nodded and opened my Kindle.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Wolf Creek Falls
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These falls are hidden away in the mountains of eastern Tennessee in Cocke County -- about 15 miles or so beyond Max Patch in Madison County, North Carolina. It's a lot of driving on gravel roads, but the falls, themselves, are just a quarter mile off the dirt road.
The approach is from the top of the falls and then you scurry down the hillside through the mountain laurel to reach the base.
I actually prefer reaching the falls from the base. There is something magical about hiking along and suddenly hearing the water and then seeing bits and pieces of the falls through the undergrowth -- then suddenly -- there they are!
It was growing dark so we didn't stay long. This definitely requires a return trip -- on a hot day -- just to sample the pool -- and stand under those falls.
The approach is from the top of the falls and then you scurry down the hillside through the mountain laurel to reach the base.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Snake Crossing
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I encountered this beautiful critter as I drove down Meadow Fork Road near Spring Creek, North Carolina. He stopped and posed for the shot and then, hopefully, made it all the way across the road.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Wildflowers and Plants in Eastern Tennessee
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After the short hike to Red Fork Falls (see previous posting), I took a drive along Forest Service Road 230 aka Unaka Mountain Road -- and spotted early spring in the higher elevations.
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| Trillium |
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| Wild Strawberry |
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| May Apple |
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| The Appalachian Trail runs just behind this fence at a place called Beauty Spot. It certainly is! |
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| Berries and Plant Life at Red Fork Falls |
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