INAP Photo

I was editing Ilidio's monthly report today and came across this photo from the INAP training in early October. Although I look like I know what is going on - don't be fooled! At this point I was making endless Tetun word lists, nodding and smiling, nodding and smiling.

My favorite slip, made later that week: "Hau kaben moris" (I am a living wife) when I wanted to say "Hau kabun moras" (I have a sick stomach).

I love the movement in the man to my left's hand, the turquoise.

Mail Culpa

This post is really a big apology and long overdue. I want to thank everyone who sent mail and apologize that it took me this long to figure out.

Just as Dili has no trash collection (hence the robust, fecund street-pig population) there is no mail delivery. There is also lingering confusion over whether Timor Leste is an independent country (yes, since 2002) and all mail, unless directed otherwise, festers in Jakarta. It may work its way loose in a year.

There are three ways to avoid this, although any packages will ALWAYS be opened, inspected and maybe sampled. These options are listed in order of reliability:

1. Send letters to Kourtney Pompi at NDI in Washington, making clear that they are to be forwarded to Timor Leste. The address: National Democratic Institute, 2030 M Street NW, Fifth Floor, Washington D.C. 20036-3306.

2. Send letters using FedEx or DHL to Rua De Nu Laran No. 20, Bairro Dos Grilos, Dili, Timor Leste. FedEx takes roughly two weeks

3. Send letters to me c/o National Democratic Institute, P.O. Box 405, Dili, Timor Leste via Darwin NT Australia (must write "via Darwin NT Australia")

Again my apologies! Note: The stamps are from 1938 and 1911, respectively, well before Portugal withdrew (1974).

NPR Piece (updated)

Last night I successfully used Skype to call phones (2 cents per minute vs. over $2 using a landline, Skype name: kate_roll), and I caught Dad just as he was writing me an email about a piece that he heard on National Public Radio about Timor Leste.

The four minute segment follows Admiral William Fallon (left), head of the U.S. Pacific Command, as he is given a driving tour by Major Ron Sergeant, who happens to be both the only representative of the U.S. army stationed in Timor and a friend of mine.

The segment was striking for a few of reasons. First, it cautions against driving at night and mentions the use of gang checkpoints for extortion - the driver has to pay a "toll" to get through the block - of which I was already well aware. Ron then goes on to describe abductions following checkpoints, which happened to two Timorese easterners moving through a western gang's roadblock. When I get a chance to speak with Ron, I will ask him if this has occurred again and if this has become more of a concern for "malae" (foreigners).*

The other striking thing was how unimpressed the Admiral was with President Xanana Gusmão. It sounded like blasphemy to me - Xanana is absolutely revered here.

Finally, more and more people (including the announcer) have been using the term "failed state" to describe Timor Leste. As I read more about this designation, it appears more and more fitting. The journal Foreign Policy identifies unequal development, delegitimization of the state ("when state institutions are regarded as corrupt, illegal, or ineffective"), and population pressure either from high reproductive rates (*check* highest in the world) or internally displaced persons (*check* more than 1 in 10 Timorese are IDPs) as key indicators of state failure. The one thing that Timor Leste, thankfully, does not have is environmental degradation. Foreign Policy did not rank Timor Leste in its 2006 Failed State Index, but I could make an educated guess of where on the list it would fall.

* I am interested in whether or not foreigners are targeted for selfish reasons, not to suggest that abductions are not a problem and do not deserve mention until they happen to someone non-Timorese.

One confusing part of the NPR piece for me was whether Ron was describing the security situation for malae or Timorese. He says "you will..." but the reality here is that who "you" are matters tremendously. Indonesians living in TL and easterners are, by far, the most vulnerable, and all of the eastern staff in the office are either living in the office (Karlito) or living with relatives. Unrecorded IDPs.

Helicopters

With all the chaos in Dili, it felt good to get out of town and into the districts on Thursday. It was a relief to be in the high, cool, open mountains, an escape from both from the heat of Dili and the "situation."

That is not to say that I encounter or witness violence frequently. From my seat in the courtyard, my only direct indication of trouble is helicopters moving overhead, sometimes hovering in the distance over some clash. It reminds me of watching terns hover over patches of dimpled water; I know that something is going on beneath the surface, but all I can see is the bird waiting above.



So my knowledge of the roadblocks, stone throwing, and gangs comes through my computer or cellphone (text messages from the US Embassy), and were it not for the helicopters it would be difficult to connect the reports to the very here and now; the sun is still shining, roosters are still crowing and the mangos are still falling, rotting.

But in Quequerasa, Aileu district, there were no helicopters flying.



Note: The above picture was taken in Suai by the World Food Program in 2000. It has nothing to do with the Blackhawks that I see in Dili, but I liked the picture.

Weekend Rehash

Here's a little retroactive blogging, written on Sunday:

“I woke up at 8:30am this morning. Got dressed; read the NY Times; read the Timor Post; drank some coffee, and now, at 2:10 pm, I am back in my cotton bathrobe, taking it slow.

Yesterday was busy. In morning, I went with Karlito to the Hotel Timor (posh, Portuguese) to hear the Prime Minister Ramos Horta (see photo) and Bishop Belo (see photo below, as a young man) – in from Mozambique for a visit – speak about peace. These men shared the Nobel Peace Prize in 1996. Impressive speakers.

After lunch I headed to Dare, high in the hills overlooking Dili, to join the Hash House Harriers for a some group trail-running. The route is set by “hares” who earlier in the day mark the trail with biodegradable paint. They also make false trails, so at intersections the quickest runners explore the different paths calling out ‘On-on’ when they come across a blaze.

I loved the running. The route had us scramble up embankments and rumble down dusty fields past understandably addled Timorese. It felt great to barrel headlong down a tiny path looking for the orange and blue dots; hashing combined the manic excitement of the hunt with the momentum of a group.

Not that some parts weren’t a little strange. The group invaded little Dare – 10 SUVs, 30 expats, two Timorese. This was a group of big, white Australians (90%) – some with the physiques of top grade rowers. Kids, with littler kids on their hips, watched us stampede past their small homes. Imagine giants coming over the back gate, jumping the fence, and disappearing down the road!

A little grotesque.

The running was followed by the standard drinking, machismo and singing (none with the wit, I will note, of Brown women’s rugby). These kinds of clubs are part of the expat life in Timor – and in the case of HHH – across the globe. And I have decided to explore it as such, as part of the world to which I have access.”

I did not post this on Sunday because I felt like I was trying a little too hard to justify taking part in the hash club. So it goes.

Can you guess.....?

Another Security Update!

There has been more violence today in the Comoro area and at the airport IDP (refugee) camp. All the expats are taking notice because the fighting closed the airport; it is expected to be closed tomorrow as well.

In response to the escalation, US NGOs were moved from security Phase I to Phase II. I am not a huge fan of the system, as there seems to be missing some steps in between “send families home” (Phase II) and “everyone get moving” (Phase III). The US State Department at least distinguishes between essential and non-essential personnel (like me!). They so far have been mum.

The Australians are always a bit quicker, and they issued a new travel warning today although they did not change the threat level. Like the rest of us, they are waiting to see how things go.

I would be really bummed to leave. I can’t imagine adjusting to mammoth Jakarta after falling for the small, scrappy, seaside city of Dili.

Security Update, cont.

This afternoon I received word that the report about the two bodies was inaccurate. Instead of two, dismembered corpses, one, complete, body was found.

I some ways this news is neither here nor there. People are still being killed, and unless the correction breaks on the front page of the Timor Post most people just wont know.

On the other hand, it gives me a sense of relief. The nature of the reported killings had crossed an unarticulated and unanticipated line for me. They made me think about Dili in the context of mass violence, not as a city with some unsafe neighborhoods as in Chicago, New York or Los Angeles.

I am clearly avoiding the hot spots and staying in the loop, but I am still going out (I just got back from yoga). Tomorrow is a day off and I'll be going to the district of Liquiça with friends. If all goes well I'll also be in the districts at the end of the week to see our trainers in action.

Security Update

Last night I crashed really early, tired from a good weekend. In the evening I received two text messages from the US Embassy about avoiding the Comoro area, the site of frequent flare ups, which, as I was already in bed, I didn't think too much about.

This morning I read the news - after two mutilated bodies, just torsos, were found in sacks, furious groups clashed in Comoro. The young men killled were from eastern districts, and according to the reports, were killed after going through a gang checkpoint in Dili. This is by far the most chilling incident to happen while I've been here.

Foreigners have not been targeted, and the clashes appear to be between gangs from the east and west. However, nothing is never as simple as "east vs. west" (especially considering that these are seen as relatively new divisions) and the question remains who is benefiting from the instability and who is providing financial incentives or support.

I'll be watching this closely.


Above, the door of my room.

UN Pol

My Tetun teacher, who after a month of 8 am classes I consider a friend, has started working for the UN Police as an interpreter.

Just imagine. Its late, you’re scrunched in a car with four guys with guns, they are Malaysian or Bangladeshi or Pakistani and may have just arrived in Timor Leste the night before. And when you come across some angry people, you are the voice of the soldiers.

This is white-knuckle work, and my friend is scared to start.

But it’s a job with the UN, so at least it must pay well. Right?


1,100 USD per annum.


Note: In large part becuase of the UN mission and NGO presence, East Timor has a tremendously stratified, cash-based economy. Goods that foreigners want - for example processed food or apartments in Dili - go for US prices or higher. Paying 600 USD in rent for month is not outrageous. Food is similar; a can of coke costs 1.50 USD in the supermarket and Häagen-Dazs is 14 USD per pint.

The UN pays foreigners salaries that make it possible for them to pay the rent, buy the ice cream, and go for a dive. While 1,100 USD may be three times the average per capita income (making, by that measure, East Timor the poorest country in the world), in the context of Dili and UN work, it simply fails to impress.

(Inter)national Enquirer

This report is clearing up more than a few question:

"122. The evidence establishes that armed men under the command of Abilio Mesquita initiated the attack on the residence of Brigadier General Ruak on 24 May, as described in paragraphs 69 and 70 above. The Commission has not been able to establish the identities of all these men...

123. The Commission recommends that the following persons be prosecuted: Abilio Mesquita, Artur Avelar Borges, Almerindo da Costa, Pedro da Costa, Valente Araújo and a person described as Elvis."

Stop the presses - the King is alive and eating lamb* in Timor Leste!

* Thanks Dad for the correction.

Release of Tension

The UN released its report today at 4 pm, and as far as I have heard, things are calm and people are lying low.

I went to Parliament with Karlito, my boss and his wife (who is visiting) for the release. Unlike the other times that I have been to Parliament the seats were filled and the members were attentive. The Acting Special Representative of the Secretary General Finn Reske-Nielsen (A-SRSG, top UN official) gave a short speech and then helpers handed out big yellow envelopes to all the Parliamentarians.

This is a digital, decentralized world, and within an hour a notorious Lusophone blog had posted the report. It got it off the site of the UN Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR), but I like that Karlito found it on the blog first. UNMIT – the putative author – has not posted a copy. Hard copies will be available tomorrow, but by that time the papers will have excerpted the good bits for general consumption.

There were lots of UNPol around after the session ended, almost all Malaysian units. In Timor Leste, there are currently about 800 personnel under the banner of UN Police (which will increase to 1,608 for the April elections) and 1,000 Australian Defense Force/New Zealand Joint Task Force personnel (which will decrease to 600 at the elections). The Portuguese troops (GNR) are now counted in the UNPol number. Right now, 900 Timorese police (PDTL) are being retrained and slowly redeployed.

I am interested to read the report and then to read what the newspapers have to say.

Security Update

Things have been a bit tense of late, in large part because of a damn report.

The UN’s Commission of Inquiry was supposed to release the results of its investigation into the causes of the violence in April and May a couple of weeks ago. The report is important – and it lists over 100 persons involved in the violence – but after all the delays, it has acquired outsized significance.

Right now some people are worried that if the big guys are named that they will cause trouble; others worry that if only the small fry are named, the people will cause trouble; a few think that it doesn’t matter who is named, just as long as something happens to them.

I thought it would be released today, but now it has been delayed again.

The irony is not lost on anyone that the UN has formulated an evacuation plan in anticipation of its own report. And of course, the plan is for foreigners only.

With everyone abuzz about the report, the US Embassy called a security meeting for Americans living in Timor Leste. About 40 people were in attendance, which is probably over 90% of the group.

The information from the meeting itself was stale, the security officer frumpy, and the décor hotel-ish, but I really liked hearing people give their views on the situation. There was a mix of interns, young families, and career international aid workers/consultant-types.

People who are (more) in the loop think that things will be fine. Regardless, at NDI we have again been in touch with Washington, and the new evacuation plan is that instead of a Balinese vacation, I would head to the NDI office in Jakarta.

I’ll keep everyone posted.

History, part II

I wish there was a complete illustrated history of Timor Leste. Here is a great set of panels about Clinton's "bold" initiative in 1994 to refuse to sell (more) small arms to Indonesia because of the atrocities in Timor. This is rather timely considering that the ban was lifted last month.


Click to enlarge.

Once again, Mother Jones has a great piece on the subject.

History, 1975-1980

Dad has asked me to write a little bit about the history of mass violence in East Timor, so here is the first installment, through 1980:

Most people associate the word “genocide” with the Holocaust or with the Rwandan massacres (1994). Less well known are the genocides perpetrated in Armenia (1915-1917), Cambodia (1975) and East Timor (1975-1980, 1990s).

I use “genocide” as a technical term. The International Criminal Court defines genocide as “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnic, racial or religious group, as such” and enumerates five means by which genocide may be carried out, including “Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group” and “Forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.” Genocide is not just killing people; it is the destruction of a people.

The target of this genocide was the East Timorese, a heterogeneous group (for example, in the 1970s over 14 distinct languages were spoken in the territory) united by colonial boundaries. Portugal set up outposts in East Timor in 16th century; in 1859 the Treaty of Lisbon formally divided the island between the Netherlands (West) and Portugal (East), cementing a distinct Eastern identity reinforced by the high number of Catholics.*

In 1974, the bloodless coup in Portugal known as the “Carnation Revolution” brought an end to Europe’s longest-serving fascist regime. The new government promptly agreed to release its colonies, including Angola (the site of brutal, protracted fighting), Mozambique, Cape Verde and East Timor.

In East Timor, Portugal administered elections but failed to achieve stability. Within weeks, the new Timorese government was challenged in a coup and a brief civil war followed, costing roughly 1,500 lives. Amidst the chaos, the victorious party, Fretilin, issued a unilateral declaration of independence (28 November 1975).

The Indonesian Army invaded nine days later.

The United States knew that Indonesia planned to invade East Timor six months before operations commenced, and the US provided military equipment. Transcripts of Secretary of State Kissinger directing a deputy to “keep his mouth shut on this thing” have been released under the Freedom of Information Act.

“This thing” was genocide. A Yale study places the population of East Timor at the time at roughly 650,000 people. In the five years following the Indonesian invasion (1975-1980) over 150,000 East Timorese lost their lives. Demographers estimate that of 21-26% of the population was killed or died as a result of the Indonesian invasion and occupation.

To quote another Yale study at length:
“Indonesian massacres of Timorese began on the first day of the December 1975 landing. Dunn calls the assault on Dili ‘one of the most brutal operations of its kind in modern warfare. Hundreds of Timorese and Chinese were gunned down at random in the streets.’ The Bishop of Timor watched from his window as 150 people, including at least twenty women, were systematically shot on the town’s jetty. Five hundred Chinese were killed on December 8 alone.”

According to Kiernan, quoted above, Indonesia soon had 32,000 soldiers in East Timor, and another 10,000 waiting in West Timor. In 1975 the Indonesian army massacred five Australian journalists. East Timorese fled to the hills and Fretilin organized a guerilla resistance movement – Falintil – which took control of roughly a third of East Timor. Through the next two decades, Indonesia almost completely cut off access to East Timor. With the absolute complicity of both the Australian and American governments, the Indonesian government effectively kept these atrocities out of the spotlight.

A second, massive wave of violence began in the early 1990s and culminated with a deliberate “scorched earth” and forced migration policy following the 1999 UN referendum for independence. I will do some more reading and write a bit about the 1990s next week.



* In the 1970s Catholic East Timorese were barely a majority; many Timorese were still identified in church censuses as animist. Currently, over 95% of Timorese identify as Catholic.

For more details on the 1975-1989 period, please see Kiernan, beginning page 12.
Mother Jones also has a nice overview of Timorese history up until 1999.
The above cartoon was drawn in 1975, but is equally applicable to 1999, 2002...

Timor Libre

I think I am becoming a pinko.

It may be that I am light-headed following a 24-hour bug, it may be that I have been taking Robinson (“Promoting Polyarchy: Globalization, US Intervention and Hegemony,” CUP 1996) too seriously, but I am beginning to question the idea that neo-liberal economics will be East Timor’s savoir.

The premise of neo-liberalism is to reduce obstacles to the free-flow or “total mobility” of capital. Neo-liberalism links economic elites across countries and diminishes governments’ ability to direct economic activity. This arrangement disadvantages small-scale producers and benefits large producers and the bureaucrats that smooth the transfer of labor-outputs or natural resources from the periphery to the core.

Robinson concludes: “There is no objective correlation between economic growth and living conditions… the opening of Third World economies facilitates the transfer of resources from the domestic to the external sector.” (35)

So I read that, underlined it, made a little note, and moved on. Later however, it came back to me.

On the weekends, I have gotten in the habit of taking a book (Robinson’s lately) to the beach in the late afternoon and reading until it gets dark. The guys that run the nearby restaurant come out to chat and waste time before the late-night crowd rolls in. Tonight we talked about the price of education: One of the guys has finished six semesters of a computer course but had to stop because of the crisis and the high costs. Education is expensive.

So, with Robinson still fresh, it occurred to me that if neo-liberal economic developments like the Sunrise Oil and Gas fields deal with Australia are not going to make Miguel richer, than what would make education cheaper?

That’s when we started talking about Cuba, (Sweden and Switzerland,) free education, good healthcare, high literacy rates, etc. And it may have been the cool night air or it may have been the enthusiastic company, but the whole Socialist project began to make sense for Timor.

There are many similarities between Cuba, East Timor and their Anglophone neighbors, and I think a brilliant comparative study is long overdue. I am not sure if Timor prefigures post-Castro Cuba, or if instead the situation in Timor is more like last days of Batista, with huge economic disparities, and lots of overseas capital concentrated among an international elite.

After tonight, I say “¡Viva la revolucíon!”

Five Missions and a Wedding

Now that I’m here, I have been returning to Jarat Chopra's* writing on the UN’s early stumbles and continuing legacy in Timor Leste. Chopra headed up the UNTAET's Office of District Administration before resigning his post in frustration.

Before I start writing about his observations, I am posting a decent timeline of the UN’s role in Timor Leste (from UNMIT):

"UNMIT is Timor Leste's fifth UN mission since 1999, and the third since independence in May of 2002. Each of the five UN missions since 1999 has had a distinct purpose:

The UN Mission in East Timor (UNAMET, June 1999 - October 1999) paved the way for the popular consultation on autonomy.

The UN Transitional Administration in East Timor (UNTAET, October 1999 – May 2002) administered the territory during the transition period.

The UN Mission in Support of East Timor (UNMISET, May 2002 - May 2005) provided assistance in the immediate post-independence period.

The UN Office in Timor Leste (UNOTIL, May 2005 - August 2006) supported key state institutions to strengthen democratic governance and help further build peace."

And, on a bit of a random note, a woman who is in my Pilates class was featured in the New York Times wedding of the week. It can’t get chic'er than Timor!

* Full disclosure, Chopra was a favorite International Law Professor of mine at Brown. The picture is of my street.

"Man-who-is-always-scratching"

One, zwei, tres, vier, five, seis…

Recently, I have focused a lot on language, and once again it has taken center stage. Today while breaking up into groups at the Instituto Nacional de Administração Público (INAP), Timorese participants languidly wove in and out of three distinct numeric systems.

Satu, dois, tolu, quatro, lima, nen…

I spent the beginning of last week observing INAP’s training sessions for the field organizers. On the second day we broke into small groups and each organizer presented a shortened version of the module on “Gestão i Liderança.”

Linguistic hurdles cropped up immediately. With rural, less-literate populations, high Portuguese won’t fly: How should the organizers introduce the module? In response, the leader translated “gestão” into the Indonesian, “managmen.” But “managmen” is derived from English (from Latin for hand, “manus”), and we’re back at square one. Then the trainer chastised organizers for confusing “leader” and “leadership.”

Observing groups define words “incorrectly” reminds me of the heterogeneity language, and the lack of a common definition of a word among the speaker, listener, and the dictionary. I am reminded that meanings are social. The training was a place to create a common definition – be it “correct” or not – and I hope that the arrived-upon definition fits the purpose that the word will serve. Put as a question, what should “leadership” mean in a discussion with xefes de suco?

Linguistics aside, the participants were a riot. We had to reintroduce ourselves at the beginning of each mock training session, and one guy named his town “Street-dust,” “Man-who-is-always-scratching” and then “Arrive-but-can’t-leave,” while another man called himself Xefe de Suco Honda, after the motorbike.

The day was long, and everyone just seemed to take it in stride, smoking cigarettes, answering cellphones and drinking very sweet, black coffee.

The photo is of the sunset on Friday.

Hau-nia Has

Mango season has begun! Today is a bit windy and they are falling from the trees above me (I am still working outside in the courtyard). Everyone at the office can hear when one falls - either the loud thud on the roof or the rattle of one hitting the gravel - and a good, big mango doesn't last long once it has landed. The race to get the mango was up until today very subtle - the mango just vanished. But today, after one loud thud, the office manager broke the silence and squeaked "Hau-nia!" ("Mine!").

The picture is from the tree in the compound. In the courtyard, all the little, undesireable, mangos collect under the bushes like easter eggs.

Shhhh...!

I’ve been out of the office all week, and today I spent most the day at Parliament, listening to testimony on the proposed electoral law. Highlights included a speech emphasizing that women knew both how to cook and clean. Was it tongue-in-cheek? I have no idea, but the Parliamentarians cracked up.

It reminded me of a Concord Academy assembly, with the popular kids (the representatives of Fretilin, the majority party) all turned around in their seats, openly chatting with their cohorts and making fun of the presenters’ accents.

After the first session, Telibert, Karlito and I joined the Parliament members in an adjacent trailer for a nice meal of rice, grilled fish, sautéed greens and water buffalo. Enak sekali!

To be a bit technical, the elections here are single-constituency and use lists (like elections in Iraq). This means that everyone in Timor Leste sees the exact same ballots imprinted with the names of political parties. This is quite unlike in the US where elected officials are identified with (and by) the places that elect them.

Prior to elections all the parties submit ranked list of candidates for publication. If there are ten seats in Parliament, and one party gets 80% of the vote and the other party gets 20% of the vote, the electoral formula or algorithm should allot seats to the first eight people listed on the dominant party's list and two remaining seats to the first two people listed on the minority party's list.

With lots of seats and lots of parties, the electoral formula becomes more complicated and less intuitive. Currently, there are big fights over whether or not a list must receive 5% of the vote to gain a seat. This threshold is proposed by the ruling party, and here's why.

To quote at length from the smuggled UN document:
"[without a threshold] a political party obtaining around 0.6% of the national vote would obtain a seat. Using this approach, the 2001 vote would have given 36 of 65 seats to FRETILIN, 6 to PD... Results would have been quite proportional, with FRETILIN getting 58.46% of the seats with 57.68% of the vote."

With the 5% threshold, the 2001 elections would have looked quite different. With 57.68% of the vote, Fretilin would have gained over 70% of the seats.

So that electoral formula was the focus of attention, as was the question of quotas for the inclusion and distribution* of women on lists. NDI is looking at some other issues, and I probably will not go back to listen to more testimony until next week when the NGOs start to offer their comments. Going to Parliament was exciting and, then, kind of boring. The Parliamentarians had it right to toss in a little get-back-to-the-kitchen humor.



*Distribution is important because, for example, the law could require 10% of the list to be female, but the party could group the females at the bottom of the list. Unless the party totally dominates, these women would never get seats. The above picture is the Parliament, note both the fancy chairs and mics (from AUSAid) and the low attendance (25%).

(Not) Tipping in Dili

This weekend, at Telibert’s urging, I read Malcolm Gladwell’s book “The Tipping Point.” It’s clever, though a bit bubblegum, as it pops out unconventional explanations for phenomena ranging from teen suicides in Micronesia to the runaway success of Airwalk sneakers.

Gladwell is interested in rapid social change – exponential increases or declines in certain behaviors. While most would recognize fads as having these massive accelerations (and decelerations), he points out that sharp decline crime in New York City in the 1990s also followed that pattern. He identifies the “Tipping Point” as the critical moment when the behavior (teen suicide, shoe buying or not committing crime) takes off.

In the case of Timor Leste, no one wants the low levels of violence to “tip” and become widespread and more destructive. Currently, violence remains localized and lo-tech (mainly people throwing rocks). Yet in May, people burned houses and thousands of residents fled Dili. In May, the situation may, however briefly, have tipped.

So, how do you prevent low-level violence from getting out of hand?

One theory that has been kicking around since a 1982 Atlantic Monthly article by James Q. Wilson and George Kelling suggested that crime surges when the conditions of a neighborhood decline. A broken window signals that people don’t care about the building, leading to more busted window, graffiti (gasp!), squatting, drug sales, etc. (This became its own trend, and police departments across the US subscribed to the “broken-windows theory.”)

This also, I have decided, applies to communal dishwashing. Never leave dishes in the sink because the sink will soon be populated by their ownerless offspring. This idea also mirrors the very Yankee axiom: “a stitch in time, saves nine.”

So do your dishes, clean up the trash, fix the broken windows and don’t let the burnt buildings signal that the residents of Dili have given up.

Now, over the last 24 years scholars have challenged the broken-window theory; for example, one study (2005) has shown that perceptions of a neighborhood’s decline cleaves to demographic changes rather than objective changes in the physical condition of the block. Is racism, not vandalism, to blame? Others argue that the dramatic decline in NYC crime may more appropriately be tied to incarceration, aging, abortion rates (the Freakanomics guys’ theory) or the end of the crack epidemic than the decision to clean graffiti off all the trains.

Regardless of the wisdom of applying broken-windows theory to crime prevention in Dili, the book’s overall emphasis is on small, simple innovations precipitating massive change. What difference would fixing up burnt out buildings make? What about giving homes fire extinguishers*?

For Gladwell, you just have to be clever enough to figure out which switch to flip. It is about communication and signaling, the whole as much more than the sum of the parts (or panes).


*I am yet to see one here. Above photo taken on Saturday's run/hike, looking north over the main beach.

Outages

I like it when the power goes out. Everything becomes so quiet; the BBC clams up, my AC disappears and the entire city goes dark. At NDI the outage never lasts long (the emergency generator kicks in), and consequently the lights going out is less of an inconvenience and than a reminder that I live in a small, still inchoate city, on the coast of a overlooked island, under a black black sky.


This is the main beach, Saturday evening.