Suai bother?

This week I went to Suai for work, and made some additions to my ‘things I love about Timor’ list (subsection: pleasant absurdities). Namely:

A cow named Kevin

You can't see it here but Kevin's name is emblazoned on his flanks.
Notice his smug, self-satisfied air.

Gussied-up appliances

Because everyone knows fans looks better in satin ribbon.

House decorations made out of recycled cans AND plastic

The Toyota Prius of home decorating in Suai.

Flower garden (not absurd, but I do love a good garden)

Thriving in clay in front of a house made of bamboo.

The trip to Suai was a bit of a mixed bag because for every giggle I had, we’d come across something that would sober me up quick smart.

On the way there, we passed a place known as ‘Jakarta 2’. It looks like a fairly innocuous place until you notice how the ground suddenly falls away, a sheer drop of 500m or more, to rocks below. A place of natural fear which Indonesian military exploited for unnatural cruelty. The soldiers told a nearby village to start walking – they were going to Jakarta. When they got to the cliff, every person was forced off it. One man survived. That was October 1986.

Jakarta 2 memorial

Later on the road, we passed a village where many houses had been razed to the ground. All that was left were scorched concrete foundations where homes used to stand. Apparently the local martial arts group (translation: gang) killed a police officer from the next village. The police officer’s village retalitated by burning down the houses. That was August 2011.

In the little hamlet where Kevin the cow lives, we were interviewing a man for what seemed like a straightforward story about him and his three children. About twenty minutes in he casually mentioned that he actually had eight children – the first five had all died, between the ages of 10 and 12, from undiagnosed illnesses. Understandably searching for answers, he turned to a local elder/medicine man who fashioned necklaces for his remaining three children out of wood from a sacred tree. They are all still alive.

The people of Suai have my utmost respect, not just because they’re still rebuilding the local church 12 ½ years after Indonesian militia killed around 200 people there, but because they’re growing flowers and dressing appliances and making craft out of rubbish at the same time. 

Suai Church

'Black September' memorial