Traffic

20/1/2008

We've had quite a turnover of assorted animals through our household lately.
The chicken population has exploded, thanks to new-year presents from several villagers. At its peak, we had fifteen chickens of various sizes running amok in the yard. It's down to a (slightly) more manageable 12 now. Two were curried, one fried.
Pak Leo, the village headman, has temporarily parked his scowling cow in our front yard, as the river that runs by his house is in danger of overflowing its banks.

[Picture: Scowling Cow]

Our two piglets have died. To be more precise, one died (malaria?); and the other looked moribund, so we killed and ate him. 'Tis life.

[Picture: Moribund Pig.]

Bagong, Pedro and Darling we picked up from the new litter at Pak Leo's. It's a challenge to get my slippers on every morning, with a trio of month-old puppies suckling my toes.

[Picture: Disgustingly Adorable.]

Sadly, two of our other dogs have met untimely deaths under the wheels of some 4WD hurtling along the road in front of the house. Chocolate, we buried. Taus, eaten by our neighbours. Ouch.

Of course with this many animals loose in the compound, the primary question to ponder is, 'but does it bite?' The answer, I've discovered, depends on the particular specimen's personality as much as on the species it belongs to.
So far, I have survived three chicken-bites.

-raj

Snake Vs. Lizard

20/12/2007

Drama that unfolded this morning.

1. Commotion in the back yard. Snake in the shed!

2. Upon closer inspection, we discover that Snake has got his fangs into Lizard, and is now in the process of strangling him.

3. But wait...! Lizard won't go down so easy, turns around and bites Snake's lower jaw.

4. Raj enters the fray. Wielding golf club. Of course.

5. Snake + Lizard dragged out into the open. Amandi waiting, parang in hand.

6. Amandi lands an almighty blow!

7. Snake mortally wounded, but still clutching onto Lizard. Determined to finish his last kill...

8. Shocking reversal! Lizard, sensing Snake weakening, shakes free and chomps down on Snake's head!

9. Wearied but victorious, Lizard limps away...

10. So in the end:

Snake - dead.

Amandi - happy.

Lizard - v. happy!


-raj

Mosquitoes and Malaria

16/12/2007

I have no doubt that several litres of my blood are now flying around Timor in the bellies of contented mosquitoes.
A confluence of factors - the rain, the temperature, the seasonal cycle - has brought us a sudden invasion of bugs, of every imaginable shape and size. But it's the mosquitoes that I most sincerely hate.
Timorese mosquitoes are not particularly large, swift or intelligent. But they descend upon you in massive waves, with a Zen-like disregard for DEET and slapping. No matter how many you squish, there always seem to be a hundred more ready to die for their cause.
Resistance is futile.

But Yudha resists anyway. Passionately.
Every night, Amandi and I respectfully evacuate the house as Yudha, canister of Baygon in hand, marches through in a murderous rage. Anything that doesn't have the grace to die quickly from the first shot is promptly drowned in insecticide.
I was initially amazed by how the fight against mosquitoes aroused such savagery in Yudha's otherwise tender soul. But it turns out that in the two years he's been in Timor, he's had malaria six times.

Not everyone has the capacity to launch such a robust counter-attack, however.
Planting season means, for the mosquitoes, many more bare-bodied, distracted men out in the fields for longer hours. And unattended children left at home to fend for themselves.
Already, I see a discernible upswing in the number of patients with malaria at our twice-a-week clinic. Most young people recover with antimalarial medicines after a week or two, with little long-term consequence except for the lost productivity on the farms. But it's the vulnerable ones - infants, pregnant women, grandparents - who suffer the more prolonged, severe, and sometimes fatal variants.

The cornerstone of malaria control in developed countries is mosquito avoidance - simply laughable here, given the overwhelming numbers. Economic factors also come into play: One well-meaning initiative to give a free mosquito net to every newborn flopped, when some enterprising Timorese figured out that sewn together, the nets make for great fishing.

How is the prevalence and impact of malaria in Vatunau solvable? I don't know. But for now, the antimalarials and I hold the line.

-raj

Winding Down

14/12/2007

December, it's planting season. Our community development work is winding down a little. Y and I are focusing on administrative odds and ends, the garden, and studying.
The rains have come, half the village have retreated to their ancestral lands in the hills south of Vatunau to plant maize and groundnuts. Over the next two months to the harvest, many will remain to weed, and to fend off the gangs of delinquent monkeys that would gleefully eat or tear through the entire plantation.
This crop is critical. There is no irrigation system, so dependence on the seasonal rain allows only two planting cycles between November and April. Vatunau lives off this harvest for the remaining half of the year.

I'm winding down too. It's been a challenge to remain awake and productive through the day. The oppressive heat and humidity is sucking the life right out of me. We haven't had electricity for a week, so midday activity grinds to a standstill as we collectively bake outdoors or marinate in sweat indoors. And if it's too hot to work in the day, it's too dark to work at night. The unholy hordes of bugs that congregate around the smallest of lights make study by candlelight an intimidating prospect.

Need... more... coffee...

-raj

Chickens Among Us

2/12/2007

Something's up with the neighbourhood chickens. They're either psychotic, possessed... or getting organized.
For the last week, they've been erupting in synchronized volleys of ear-splitting cackling every hour from midnight to 5am. It's infuriating.
But in the light of day, it's impossible to tell who the leaders of The Resistance are. They all look uniformly dumb and innocent, the way that only chickens can.

[Picture: "Who, me?" - Innocent Chicken]

We have four Nameless Chickens - Yudha refuses to christen them, for fear of engendering emotional attachment.
Codename 'Putih' (Indonesian for 'White') is the supremely cocky cock who repeatedly picks fights with longsuffering Wiro. These provocations usually end with Wiro chasing the disgraced Putih up onto the roof in a flurry of barking and feathers. Whereupon Putih pouts for a while before carrying on the insurgency by aiming droppings at Wiro from his perch.
'Hitam' ('Black') is a heartbreakingly stupid hen that needs to be chased around the bushes every morning just to be fed. Nameless Chickens #3 and #4 are singularly unremarkable souls: they spend their days in the coop, and apparently nurse no greater dreams.

Virtually every household here is home to at least one chicken: They're easy to acquire and rear, a couple of eggs a week may be the only source of protein for a family of 10, they're a traditional store of wealth. And yes, on occasion they do end up on the plate.
Should bird flu cross the border from Indonesia only a couple of hundred kilometres away, it's easy to imagine the mayhem that would result throughout rural Timor. There's very real potential for human/chicken/pig cross-infection; but any high-handed attempt to round up and cull poultry would be met with no less resistance than Herod's men in Bethlehem. Should push come to shove, I'm not at all sure that I wouldn't stand by my chickens myself.
But only if they'd let me sleep at night.

-raj

Brunei 2-8/12/2007

5/12/2007
I'm in Brunei Tuesday to Saturday to attend my high school's 10th year reunion. Staying at the home of an old classmate (thanks JW!). This'll likely be my last retreat to modern civilization before diving back into work in Timor for another five months.
Top 5 Things I have missed:
1. Hot showers.
2. The Internet!
3. Light to study by at night.
4. Electricity for my laptop.
5. Ice.

[Picture: Amandi studying by kerosene lamplight]

- raj

The Two-Wheeled Terror Of Timor

(Credits to L for the titillating title...)

15/11/2007

Borrowed Pak Leo’s motorcycle this afternoon. Perilous 4-kilometer ride to Liquica Hospital with Yudha to meet Pak Filomeno, the district health director.

This Honda [Something] is a 100cc pygmy that has been worked mercilessly by Pak Leo and pretty much anybody who can ride a bike in Vatunau for the last 7 years. And it shows.
Getting her started requires a brutal kicking, the engine is anaemic, frame rattles like a jar of teeth, lights don’t work.
The buttocks-shaped hole on the foam seat inadequately accommodates my standard-issue-Indian-buttocks.
Shifting gears is a vehicular Russian Roulette. I hold my breath, kick the pedal and hope for the appropriate the gear. Odds 1-in-4.
Brakes don’t work, so I keep her trotting along at a pace that would allow Yudha and I to skip off and run out of the way should we be faced with the prospect of a collision. I don’t think I’ve hit 30kmph – but then I can’t be sure, the speedometer doesn’t work either.
Approaching a junction is a particularly faith-stretching manoeuvre. Implement boots-to-road technique to slow down. Avoid stopping, as that might precipitate another engine flatline requiring painstaking resuscitation. Honk gratuitously. Look out for any approaching traffic that might necessitate an emergency offroading. All clear? Prayerfully throttle up through the junction. Phew!

Risk to life, limb and neurological integrity aside, it was an awesome ride. Views of the coastline and hills are spectacular, and the nakedness of being on a motorcycle brings a sense of vulnerability and proximity to the land that I don’t think I could ever have ensconced in the metal hull of a car. I can think of no better way to see Timor.

Wait, I can: A bike with brakes.

- raj