Wednesday, January 19, 2011

My mood is positively correlated with the amount of credit available on my internet stick-thingy

The thingy that changed my life.

Recently, and thanks to East Timor’s ever-so-speedy advances in modern technology, my life changed in a profound way:


I got internet access at home!

It is superficial, indeed. I never expected that an 8cm long stick-thingy could make me so unbelievably happy.

When we first arrived in Oecusse, the only available internet was at the Timor Telecom office – about 5 kilometres from my house, during business hours, subject to available generator power. At that time I had no means of transport and was completely reliant on getting lifts from Wade.

A few months after that a new “media house” opened in town – still about 5 kilometres from my house, but it was open at night (after the power came on), so if I couldn’t get a lift to Timor Telecom during the day, chances were, Wade would need to go at night to check his emails, so I just went along with him.

Within a couple of months of the media house opening up, my life changed for the first time: I got myself a push bike. Finally, I had some wheels! I had to learn to ride it first, but the first day I rode into town to use the internet was one of my biggest achievements since arriving in Timor. I was unstoppable! Except, that is, for the days when I rode all the way into town only to find that the generator wasn’t working, so no internet. Because I was studying at the time, this would often mean that my whole day of assignment research would be ruined. To avoid this situation in future, I got the phone number of the guys at the internet cafe so I could call in advance to check that all was working ok. That made life a little easier.

Some months later, my life changed again: Wade got internet at his office. Wade’s office is closer to home – about 2kms away – and much more accessible. To top it off, it was a really speedy connection so all the articles I needed to download for uni could be done in a fraction of the time than that at the internet cafes.

And then the advent of the pre-paid internet stick-thingy!

Up until a couple of months ago, a typical “To do” list on my Outlook Express would look something like this:

Google: Flights for xmas
Go shopping – food for dinner
Google: Rosella plant
Google: uni enrolment status
Pay Vodafone bill
Google: how to make ricotta
Google: online photography courses

We do adapt quickly. Now I am able to Google at my leisure, as thoughts occur to me.

I have now become so used to having my internet stick-thingy at home, that it has become a real pain in the arse to have to go to Timor Telecom to check my balance on my stick and top up the credit.

Just yesterday, I was feeling really depressed. Nothing I could do would lift me out of the doldrums. Not even the internet. I checked emails, I facebooked, I Twittered (the mainstays of my daily internet ritual) and then I was over it. There was nothing new to be learnt, no jobs to apply for, no inspiration to be found.

I could sense that my credit was dwindling and it was no surprise that when I dragged myself to Timor Telecom late in the afternoon, I found that I only had three dollars left.

I topped up: $50. That buys me 25 hours of internet time. I walked out of the Timor Telecom office, feeling a little lighter, my internet stick-thingy buzzing in my hand with new energy.

So, this morning I wake up, eat breakfast, kiss my husband goodbye for the day, get out my computer, plug in the stick-thingy and suddenly the internet is a whole new world of intrigue, excitement and stimulation. I find myself darting all over the place! Moving from one page to another! One downloaded video to the next! Chatting to friends! Downloading podcasts with ease! Suddenly, I feel alive again! The world is my oyster!

I feel alive!

Mana Gillian

In Tetun, Mana means sister. Maun means brother. Everyone who is female is your sister. Everyone who is male is your brother.


One of the conventions of Timorese conversation is to refer to people you’re talking to in the third person. Allow me to explain, with a simple dialogue.

Maria (for example) might say:   Bondia [good morning], Mana Gillian.
I say:   Bondia Mana Maria.
Maria says:  How is Mana Gillian today?
I may reply:  I am good, thank you. How are you?
Maria might say:  I am fine. Did Mana Gillian have a nice weekend?
I feel like saying:   I’m not sure. Let me just ask her ... (rabble rabble rabble)... She says she did.

It’s particularly confusing when they drop the first name all together and just use “mana” or “maun”, like this:

Jose: How is mana today?
Me: Which one?

(I don't mean to nitpick, but techically, there are approximately 750,000 people he could be referring to, given the female population of East Timor.)