Raj and Lois in Timor

Sorry if we've been out of touch. We felt rather thrown in at the deep end (sadly, pun absolutely not intended) when April (and our unofficial new-role assumption) opened with the floods I mentioned in my last post. The tensions and demands of the last couple of months (eating instant noodles with rice over the kitchen counter when one is too dead tired to cook anything else between crisis response meetings BD; thinking through COVID-19 safe measures for return to work, reassuring staff when colleagues get COVID-19, reminding people that COVID-19 is real, googling "mask-fitting in low resource settings?") have given me slightly more insight into the uncertainties of life out of our privileged bubble. I am getting better at not feeling as guilty, and channelling any guilt into work. As the floods waned, COVID19 surged. I'm grateful to be connected to others, in other countries, who have seen first and second waves and much worse- their steadfastness and perspective giv...

 It rained without stopping since yesterday night. We woke to news of flooding on WhatsApp. Then videos and photos of the sort of things I'd hoped I would never witness again after Salone-- roads collapsing, houses torn away by currents, people wading chest-deep in (or outside) their ruined homes. Almost everyone I know has had flood damage to their house . Some of our staff lost their homes. The power grid is down, either because of structural problems or to avoid electrocution through the flood water. We are fine. We've got fuel for another few hours of the generator, and the flood did not damage our house. We were halfway through a move to the neighbouring house, but we have suspended that plan for now. Fortunately the main office is minimally affected, though the HIV clinic was completely inundated and it will be an extremely mucky clean up job tomorrow. We still have not been able to make contact with some of our staff. I'm not sure how we will do that (the first S of...

One of the chief blessings of the new (temporary) home is access to a lush, tree-lined compound (it feels like an acre for 3 houses). 9 of us volunteers live in two houses at opposite ends of the compound. The week we moved in, someone suggested volleyball. As always, I am amazed by the speed and execution of sporting facilities construction* here. T and the other guards grabbed a machete and went to work. In an hour the volleyball net was up. These lockdown days. As the blazing afternoon sun fades, we abandon our laptops and head to the garden. I marvel at the dexterity with which my neighbours and housemates set and spike and dig, with arms, with fists, with foreheads, with the lateral edge of a foot. I have long felt that ball games are not my forte (a suspicion first engendered by playing tennis with my 5-years-older, kinesthetically-gifted brother, and fossilized by a childhood entrenched in books and craft and musical dabbling). Experiences of activities requiring hand-eye coordi...

 I have not written much because much has happened that is difficult to blog about. Executive summary: - We are in the middle of a 1 month lockdown, which might extend past one month, due to clusters of COVID19 outbreaks in Dili. - Many changes have happened in MT, and it has not been easy for a lot of people. - I have been kept busy with: Activities of daily living (A, the sprightly lady who helps with chores between her university classes, can't come because of the lockdown), sporadic productivity from home (Moving FMP online was not really my worst nightmare, but perhaps it should have been), interviewing and recruiting online, developing language strategy for MT (teaching Tetun to malae, English to Timorese, and Medical English to the health workforce) - leadership transition end of this week.

 New Things encountered in the last 2 months since my last proper update: - A deep-end introduction to Human Resource Management - Intense meetings in Tetun (I can follow and contribute but it is like holding a crunch for a long time) - A really interesting consultative workshop on Aimoruk Tradisional (Traditional Medicine) - Realisation (this surprised only Lois) that I avoid conflict and tend towards people-pleasing (All my close friends: Erm... I could have told you that.) - Hence, decision to practice more assertiveness and nurture more indifference to dislike, anger, sarcasm or resentment. - Completed and handed over the text content (non-exhaustive and imperfect as it is) of the Village Worker manual (Aiming for publication in May this year!) - Attended a medical conference online (generously sponsored by A) and was very surprised at the talk that most moved our Clinician Educators by the end of the conference. - Had my first-in-Timor encounter with (most likely) a conman - L...

Lemo Rai, traditional Husi knua, lao to’o vila Oan kiak halerik beibeik  Walking from the village to the city The orphan always walks alone. Husi foho lao to’o tasi  Oan kiak harohan nafatin.  Walking from the mountains to the shore The orphan is always praying. O keta tau todan ba ema seluk  O keta sura O nia kole  Don’t put the burden on someone else Don’t recount your exhaustion. Hametin O nia ain tuban  Lao haksolok hananu nafatin Strengthen your heels Walk happy, sing always. Lemo, lemo rai  Lao lemo rai Sura loron sura kalan  Wandering, wandering, wandering the earth Numbering the days and nights Oinsaa susar nee bele hotu How will these troubles come to an end?   Tan sa O tanis beibeik  Tan sa O halerik beibeik  Why do you weep always? Why do you wail continually? Hamaran O nia matan been  Oinsa susar nee bele hotu. Dry your tears No matter how difficult, these troubles will come to an end.

Today for the first time I slapped myself on the face (to get a mosquito). I failed. Notwithstanding, I believe this graph represents my current progress. Practice makes perfect...