Crocodile Dundili
Trip Start
Apr 06, 2010
1
16
36
Trip End
Jul 29, 2010
Dili, Timor-Leste
Monday, May 31, 2010
He left for the open sea, to find food and realise his dream, but the day became increasingly hot and he was still far from the seashore. The little crocodile - rapidly drying out and now in desperation - lay down to die.
A small boy took pity on the stranded crocodile and carried him to the sea. The crocodile, instantly revived, was grateful. “Little boy”, he said, “You have saved my life. If I can ever help you in any way, please call me. I will be at your command…”
A few years later, the boy called the crocodile, who was now big and strong. “Brother Crocodile”, he said, “I too have a dream. I want to see the world”.
“Climb on my back,” said the crocodile, “and tell me, which way do you want to go?”
“Follow the sun”, said the boy.
The crocodile set off for the east, and they traveled the oceans for years, until one day the crocodile said to the boy, “Brother, we have been traveling for a long time. But now the time has come for me to die. In memory of your kindness, I will turn myself into a beautiful island, where you and your children can live until the sun sinks in the sea.”
As the crocodile died, he grew and grew, and his ridged back became the mountains and his scales the hills of Timor.
Now when the people of East Timor swim in the ocean, they enter the water saying “Don’t eat me crocodile, I am your relative”.
(From the East Timor's Independence Day Committee)
Crocodiles are considered sacred here in East Timor – but I'm not sure whether that was foremost in Steve's mind when he went swimming with one on Friday afternoon. Direct from the horse's mouth, Steve Chung, a thoracic surgeon here was swimming in the sea just off Dili when he noticed the 1.5m croc somewhere nearby. Suddenly, the large crowd on the beach, gesticulating at him made far more sense – he'd swum here before and a malae (foreigner) in the sea usually only attracted 2 or 3 onlookers. As Steve was telling us this story on Friday night (he made it shore safely), all of the signs warning of crocodiles near Baucau became a little more scary – as did the text message that went out to all UN staff members, warning them to be aware of crocodiles – but we don't work for the UN, so that part's fine!
Friday night was a farewell dinner for Cassie and Rutesh who have been here for a couple of months - Cassie working with Liz at the clinic, Rutesh researching his PhD on education in Timor. Planned for a Thai restaurant by the beach, there was a last minute change of location when we arrived and nearly gatecrashed the belly dancing party that had booked the entire restaurant in question - so after a quick drink in the place next door, we all decamped down the road to another Thai restaurant - also on the beach.
Liz went on the weekly trip to the Tibar TB clinic this week, despite a particularly late start on that day because the ambulance had to go to the bank in the morning (you think I'm joking – if I had claimed they used the siren, then that would have been an exaggeration). Due to the late start, the driver decided to come back without her – and so she was left stranded about half an hours drive from Dili until after the driver had had his lunch break and come back to her rescue – and didn't even have the good sense to look apologetic about the whole thing! She wasn't best pleased that evening.
The weekend was our last full weekend in Dili, and happily enough we managed to complete all the niggling little jobs that we have been intending to do since arriving. The most important was actually getting the plane tickets out of here, but after that there was a little bit of shopping for local curios, and then a trip to what is described as the best beach in town, just outside of town.
The observant ones amongst you will have noticed the large statue of Jesus (named Christo Rei - Christ the King) in some of the photos of the harbour – the beach is behind that, and so is named Jesus Backside Beach, and gives a fine view of the backside in question. The beach itself seemed to have a lot of rubbish and driftwood on it, but this is unusual apparently, and, other than the danger of being hit by a large log whilst swimming, was very nice.
So, fittingly, having spent the first Sunday here at the beach, we also spent the last Sunday here at the beach – and then we topped it off with a rather good Portuguese meal in a restaurant that we had been looking for unsuccessfully for about three days. All in all – a successful weekend – and now you all know the story of how Timor came to be.
