Dili, Timor Leste (Thursday 28 July)

My last day in Timor Leste is spent doing more walking around town. It’s a chance to do some shopping for memorabilia and stuff. There is one more place to see though. I have read about it in Lonely Planet and my friends at the Backpackers endorsed it as a place to visit. It’s an art school. It’s called Arte Morris Galleria and it’s a free art school for East Timorese school students.

They can come here and learn various art forms from a variety of painting disciplines, wood carving, sculpture, installation art, film making, clay modeling and even grafiti! Yes they are taught how to paint from a spray can and I think I have seen plenty of their handy work around Dili. The art they are taught or encouraged here isn’t necessarily traditional art but what ever comes from their dreams. Zeny is showing me around and he explains artistic expression doesn’t come from thought but from dreams. And the results are very impressive. The grounds are full of very clever installation art and the buildings are full of very clever art if all kinds.

Zeny is a resident teacher. He takes me to his personal studio, his space, where he produces a variety of art.

The buildings they occupy are interesting also. The Indonesians built them for a museum, then the UN used them as a hospital. Now it’s an art school. What a fantastic idea. It is all fairly run down but these dedicated people make the best of it. From Zeny’s explanation they bide there time there from year to year. They are there courtesy of the government and that could change.

He is confident though that they will find somewhere else if that changes. It is possible to support them by buying some of their products. I have bought a cd of short films made by the students that I plan to show in the JCU amphitheater when I get a chance.

I spend more time on the waterfront and meet more locals keen to practice their English. Three guys give me their time and we chat about all sorts if things. I get a general sense that Australians are liked here. The man on the street likes what the Australians have done and are doing here. Perhaps they don’t know that the Australian government and Woodside are trying to screw them over precious off-shore fuel resources, something I’m not proud of. Those here that do know aren’t so happy with Australians and I suspect any Australian wanting to do business in Timor would be prejudiced against. East Timorese on the street aren’t so taken with the Portuguese, their old colonialists. The Portuguese are very arrogant still treating Timorese as subservients and the Timorese sense this. The Portuguese make up part of the policing forces. Interestingly though is that the Timorese don’t hold any grudges against the Indonesians. This surprises me considering the atrocities the Indonesian Army enacted on Timor Leste during their occupation and when they were forcibly removed. East Timorese visit Indonesia to study and travel when they can afford it.

I also meet Jacob on the waterfront. He us studying Mathematics at the International University and plans to become a teacher, like his father. He has two brothers and seven sisters and comes from the village of Maliana, near Balabo, close to the western border with Indonesian West Timor.

My last night in Timor Leste is spent alone over a quite beer. I’m feeling a but sad right now. This place has got under my skin and I don’t want to leave.