Later that afternoon we drove to the big soccer match, which was due to start at 4 p.m. This was a big event in Santiago. We had four great seats: for Jaime, Akos, me and one for a very close university friend of Jaime’s (who worked in Chile’s central bank, overseeing every investment-funded project in Chile which had been made under a special economic law designed to help eliminate Chile’s substantial international debt, as its economy became reconstructed and modernised).
We had a fantastic afternoon together. The soccer was really exciting. We cheered and we yelled out against unfair moves. We drank some Chilean beer and reminisced. We talked a lot about Chile, its economy and people, important projects, laws, human rights. We shared experiences. We analysed scenarios and ventured to make predictions.
Close comradeship; intelligent intellectual conversation; an exciting sporting event to add; very interesting discussions – the few hours we enjoyed together flew by as if only a few seconds of time.
Soon it was time for me to return to my motel.
Another week packed with business meetings and another flight followed by more movements and move activities.
Life is full of friendships and good memories and even more things to do.
But Shabbat is Shabbat, the focal point of each week, where time moves in its own time frame as an integral part of living life.
Shabbat in East Timor
In February 2000 I was invited to visit East Timor by the East Timorese freedom fighter, its official leader and now President, Xanana Gusmao. I spent ten days there together with a few leaders of the CNRT (Council of National Resistance) – commanders who had survived nearly 25 years of armed resistance against the brutal Indonesian invasion. At that time, East Timor was nearly broken. UN forces, led by Australia, helped save this little nation from genocide and assisted in rebuilding the country, enabling East Timor to become the first independent new nation of the new millennium.
This was probably one of the crazier projects of my life. It has left me with a deeply enriching experience – but that is a different story. What I’d like to share with you now is about the Shabbat that occurred within those ten days.
It was very hot and humid along the entire coastal region. There were mosquitoes infected with malaria and dengue fever. The water was not drinkable. In stark contrast, in the mountainous inland region – with some peaks as high as 2,500-3,000 metres – the air was fresh and cool; there were no mosquitoes; there was lots of pure, chilly water from natural springs, tasty tropical rainforest fruits and plenty of fish, brought freshly caught from the pristine waters of the sea.
East Timor is a small island between Australia, New Guinea and Indonesia, only about 700 by 100 kilometres: a beautiful place inhabited by friendly, warm-hearted, decent people. Only about 700,000 of them have survived.
I felt myself highly sensitised to the plight of this people and motivated to assist. On the plane flights back home (there were four consecutive flights) I wrote a heartfelt poem before falling into a deep sleep. Although it is very personal I include it, to share my feelings and thoughts.
Lafaek is Timor 14
14 Lafaek (in Tetun, the common dialect of East Timor) is how they call their country, likened to a crocodile which became transformed into the island of Timor.
24 February 2000
To Xanana and his people
With love and respect
From your new and loyal friend
Ron G. in Melbourne
The Philosopher and Poet cries With the salty tears of the sea For the thick red blood of his people Which flooded his land as the Heavy downpouring of the monsoonal rains
The enemy from without sought to Obliterate his homeland of her life To plunder and pillage and rape and destroy To remove and replace for the greed of the few
And to pervert from within with poisoning the minds of the hungry, the poor, the oppressed and confused.
In a thoughtless attempt of genocide Which was hidden from view in our world.
The people alone defended themselves To try to survive and live on In a very pure way without help from outside They moved up through their steep mountainsides
Little by little, from day to day Together they stood side by side The thin subtle thread of the spirit of life Was as thick and as strong as steel chain
One people as one from within they strove, united by their own common cause They struggled in death for their life to Preserve, the soul of the people so pure
For twenty-five years at great sacrifice And deprived and in personal pain But enriched in a way so strange in our Day, so simple, advanced all the same
Yet lost in our world which has blinded Itself as it moves far away from true life Our everyday thoughts are so filled with the Fog … trivially caused by ourselves
The Aussies arrived and everyone breathed a Full breath of the cool mountain air Which is filled with a rare and sweet fragrance of life At a time we together all share
An explosion of life sprouted out of the earth As the womb of the people produced The coffee, the fruits and the corn and the rice All smiled and the children, these children broke forth
A profusion of life reproduction abounds; Baby buffalos, chickens and piglets and goats Farm animals as well as home hounds
The trauma, the pain and the loss all so fresh But their hearts and their minds find new peace
Their friends from outside were so kind to Them all; these uniforms gentle and good
The children so pure with their smiles so sweet “Hullo Misterr!” they call day and night With a trust and a hope for a future naive As they strive and they work in bare feet
These children, these faces, these thousands of faces – The little sweet faces – the future of Timor Its beautiful, beautiful faces.
A people united so morally As they share and they plant and they eat Such a strength which is bound with an ethical View as clear and as clean as a pure mountain spring
Survival assured by our world round about To the faces, these faces These sweet pretty faces of children All looking out
At their friends from outside who have Come to help and to build and To teach and to share
An innocent people who forgive and don’t hate No revenge only justice they seek A trusting people with nothing but hope But with everything meaningful dear
We from without must take control of ourselves And look hard and think harder within from without With respect and with care and a focused approach As all givers, receivers must share
Our common bond which links all humankind, Which maintains our humanity – A sensitive balance of self-esteem Within a culture so pure and unique
We must carefully view our well Intentioned attempts, Our motivation and the satisfaction it brings For in the end, our dear friends from within Have their own lives and dreams of fine futures ahead
The clear danger now Again hidden from view Exploitation from without of within, This danger’s most difficult to detect As it’s void of an enemy form But subtle as clouds form to darken the skies Blocking sunlight and every thing
We from without in our haste to give help Need to help our dear friends from within In their need in their time in their way In their land as their culture should Always stand
Lafaek is their land as the legend is told Lafaek chose to turn to Timor Lafaek is so strong in its culture so pure Which