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Millions lost, I'm an illegal immigrant, so run to the crocodiles.....
What a week. My multimillion dollar income proposal for the country is turned down, I give intention to resign, I discover I am an illegal immigrant with a missing passport (which requires a lengthy meeting with the National Director of the Police force), and have a fantastic journey to the countryside to get all this out of my system.
The better part of ten months of lobbying, research, careful documentation and analysis seems to have come to an end. Two proposals for the country-code top level domain; mine and that advocated by staff in the Ministry of Transport and Telecommunications.
My proposal would be worth approximately seven million dollars income per annum. Theirs would actually cost money. My proposal used several contextually appropriate examples (Tuvalu, Nunei, Laos). They didn't use any examples. Mine suggests hosting with access to 162 Gbps. Theirs is 1024 kbps.
Guess which one the Minister for Telecommunications has decided to go with? Yep, you guessed right. An hour after I
received notice of his decision, I handed in my intention to resign.
There is still a couple of last minute options. A one-to-one meeting with the Prime Minister is being organized, but I
don't see much hope in changing the decision. After all, noone wants to usurp the Minister's decision. He is such a
nice guy and all.
Just to make matters better, I discovered that the Protocol Division had lost my passport. Fourty days they were
given the passport for updating the visa. It sat on someone's desk for that fourty days, rather than going to
Immigration and Border Control. It was only the subtle threat of international criminal charges being laid which caused
it to be miraculously reappear. No explanation of course. With some assistance from the Director of Consular Affairs
(one of the more hard working people here), I had a meeting today with the National Director of the Police, a charming
and sensible character Carlos, to explain exactly why I was not an illegal immigrant.
Anyway, with all this on the agenda on Friday evening, Debbie, a community development worker, had arrived from
Melbourne for her first visit to East Timor. Within an hour of getting off the 'plane, Daryl and Jim (both Lt-Col's
from the Australian army), two Portuguese UN workers and myself are in vehicles heading towards the south coas to have
a weekend out of this capital city. Jim's a weird one. So straight it's weird. Although he's in the legal and negotions
corps, he wanders around with a pistol everywhere. Daryl on the other hand I've developed a crazy friendship with.
Despite being in the armed forces for eighteen years, he has radical-left politics, hates guns and war (like any
sensible soldier) and is always a jovial, pleasurable person to be around. And he likes a drink.
I've done the journey often enough before, but it's worth explaining. From Dili to Aileu, Aileu to Maibasse, Maibasse to Same, then to Betano. In East Timor distance isn't measured by kilometers, it's measured by the time it takes. As the crow flies (or something that can get a better altitude) you're travelling about 70kms. Due to road conditions, mountains, jungle, fog, landslides, rivers and the effects of earthquakes you're talking about four to six hours at best. Usually you're at least 1000m in the air, and up 2500m in some parts. Enormous sections are like being in an Edgar Rice Burrough's novels, especially in the moutainous center. On the south coast you have beautiful beaches interspersed with mangrove swamps which are inhabited by hundreds of crocodiles, weighing up to 400kgs.
During the journey one passes through three different ethnicities; starting with the Tetum-Praca people of Dili, the Mambe people of Maibasse and Same and the Tetun-Terik people of Same-Betano. The southern district, Manufahi, is the least developed region in the country; mostly preliterate, grass huts, animism and, until very recently (and maybe still) headhunters. Apparently it is a great honour to have your head lopped off by a Manufahi warrior.
In Maibasse we stayed at the old Portuguese governer's residence, which is now a hotel of sorts. We were the only visitors for the night, which came with the additional luxury of hot water - I had my first hot shower since January this year and believe me, I took my time.
In Betano we slept on the beach (after getting the OK from the village chief) following a late night of sitting around the campfire, having a bbq, drinking and singing. Obviously we attracted a fair bit of attention and by the following morning a substantial number of youngsters had turned up. We started "Eskola Besik Tasi" (Beach School) and discovered one boy (Solomon) could both read and write with some competence.
Recent floods having taken their toll on the region. Although they have been susbtantially worse just west (Suai) and east (Viqueque) the damage was evident here as well. An significant section of road out of Betano, along the major river (Karaulun) had just been washed away - a good 40 meters worth at least. Enormous sections of road along the cliffaces along the Same-Maibasse road have likewise vanished, but not yet to the point where it is impassable. We were hoping to return either via the east or west road, then turn north, but they are completely flooded. In other words, despite only having one seaside, Manufahi can only be reached by a single road directly from the north - and that's hardly safe by any stretch of the imagination.
On other matters.... Just when you thought that we were on the verge of a new political dark age, the United States produces a great alternative; Kucinich!
Those whose anti-Americanism is just another version of racism can shut up now. The war machine, the "Patriot Act", the campaign against reproduction rights and so forth have nothing to do with so-called "American culture" (besides, the U.S.A. is a nationality not an ethnicity) and everything to with a particular government of the United States of America.
The better part of ten months of lobbying, research, careful documentation and analysis seems to have come to an end. Two proposals for the country-code top level domain; mine and that advocated by staff in the Ministry of Transport and Telecommunications.
My proposal would be worth approximately seven million dollars income per annum. Theirs would actually cost money. My proposal used several contextually appropriate examples (Tuvalu, Nunei, Laos). They didn't use any examples. Mine suggests hosting with access to 162 Gbps. Theirs is 1024 kbps.
Guess which one the Minister for Telecommunications has decided to go with? Yep, you guessed right. An hour after I
received notice of his decision, I handed in my intention to resign.
There is still a couple of last minute options. A one-to-one meeting with the Prime Minister is being organized, but I
don't see much hope in changing the decision. After all, noone wants to usurp the Minister's decision. He is such a
nice guy and all.
Just to make matters better, I discovered that the Protocol Division had lost my passport. Fourty days they were
given the passport for updating the visa. It sat on someone's desk for that fourty days, rather than going to
Immigration and Border Control. It was only the subtle threat of international criminal charges being laid which caused
it to be miraculously reappear. No explanation of course. With some assistance from the Director of Consular Affairs
(one of the more hard working people here), I had a meeting today with the National Director of the Police, a charming
and sensible character Carlos, to explain exactly why I was not an illegal immigrant.
Anyway, with all this on the agenda on Friday evening, Debbie, a community development worker, had arrived from
Melbourne for her first visit to East Timor. Within an hour of getting off the 'plane, Daryl and Jim (both Lt-Col's
from the Australian army), two Portuguese UN workers and myself are in vehicles heading towards the south coas to have
a weekend out of this capital city. Jim's a weird one. So straight it's weird. Although he's in the legal and negotions
corps, he wanders around with a pistol everywhere. Daryl on the other hand I've developed a crazy friendship with.
Despite being in the armed forces for eighteen years, he has radical-left politics, hates guns and war (like any
sensible soldier) and is always a jovial, pleasurable person to be around. And he likes a drink.
I've done the journey often enough before, but it's worth explaining. From Dili to Aileu, Aileu to Maibasse, Maibasse to Same, then to Betano. In East Timor distance isn't measured by kilometers, it's measured by the time it takes. As the crow flies (or something that can get a better altitude) you're travelling about 70kms. Due to road conditions, mountains, jungle, fog, landslides, rivers and the effects of earthquakes you're talking about four to six hours at best. Usually you're at least 1000m in the air, and up 2500m in some parts. Enormous sections are like being in an Edgar Rice Burrough's novels, especially in the moutainous center. On the south coast you have beautiful beaches interspersed with mangrove swamps which are inhabited by hundreds of crocodiles, weighing up to 400kgs.
During the journey one passes through three different ethnicities; starting with the Tetum-Praca people of Dili, the Mambe people of Maibasse and Same and the Tetun-Terik people of Same-Betano. The southern district, Manufahi, is the least developed region in the country; mostly preliterate, grass huts, animism and, until very recently (and maybe still) headhunters. Apparently it is a great honour to have your head lopped off by a Manufahi warrior.
In Maibasse we stayed at the old Portuguese governer's residence, which is now a hotel of sorts. We were the only visitors for the night, which came with the additional luxury of hot water - I had my first hot shower since January this year and believe me, I took my time.
In Betano we slept on the beach (after getting the OK from the village chief) following a late night of sitting around the campfire, having a bbq, drinking and singing. Obviously we attracted a fair bit of attention and by the following morning a substantial number of youngsters had turned up. We started "Eskola Besik Tasi" (Beach School) and discovered one boy (Solomon) could both read and write with some competence.
Recent floods having taken their toll on the region. Although they have been susbtantially worse just west (Suai) and east (Viqueque) the damage was evident here as well. An significant section of road out of Betano, along the major river (Karaulun) had just been washed away - a good 40 meters worth at least. Enormous sections of road along the cliffaces along the Same-Maibasse road have likewise vanished, but not yet to the point where it is impassable. We were hoping to return either via the east or west road, then turn north, but they are completely flooded. In other words, despite only having one seaside, Manufahi can only be reached by a single road directly from the north - and that's hardly safe by any stretch of the imagination.
On other matters.... Just when you thought that we were on the verge of a new political dark age, the United States produces a great alternative; Kucinich!
Those whose anti-Americanism is just another version of racism can shut up now. The war machine, the "Patriot Act", the campaign against reproduction rights and so forth have nothing to do with so-called "American culture" (besides, the U.S.A. is a nationality not an ethnicity) and everything to with a particular government of the United States of America.
Re: A time to pause and reflect?...
Your arrogance is unbelievable. Along with your inability to spell.
The "real" lessons... What, like you know and everyone doesn't? "The rather sorted [sic!] lessons"
Listen pal, human beings have done some terrible things. Those are things we call pathological. And they've done some bloody marvellous things - and those are the things we call rational, reasonable, fair, just. Get the picture?
Those who look at the pathological and try to claim it is evidence of human nature are just wanking in the wind pathetically looking for an excuse for their own lack of action.
Now go away and meditate on that for a while.
*plonk*