*SHOUT OUT TO LOGO ON HER 18th BIRTHDAY*
Today was a contrast of sheer joy and guilt that comes with birth privilege. We started the day setting up our donated laptops to assist Timorese High School Students with their English skills before leading them through the program over two periods (still unsure how we transported 37 laptops to Timor Leste?). After a brief lunch, we drove to Gleno Prison. This gave us a better understanding of another aspect of Timorese culture in terms of how the justice system works.
We woke up after a better sleep. Following breakfast, the girls packed and move our rucksacks to the boys’ quarters so we could prepare our classroom for two full classes of Timorese students between the age of sixteen and eighteen. As the first class filtered in, we felt conscientious but concerned about the language barrier between us. We were aware that it was an optional Saturday class and the people we were teaching had a genuine desire to be there. This helped us to get over our initial apprehension. The first class was Year Ten equivalent and some knew a surprising knowledge of English, while others struggled with the basics. All they owned was a paper notebook and a pen and yet we were aware they were getting one of the better educations available to them. For most it was the first interaction with computer technology which was quite a revelation especially given our closeness of age. Considering how readily Wi-Fi and internet is at home, it reminds us of a vast contrast between our lives and installs a certain sense of guilt. Why does our country of birth decide our opportunities? Yet here no matter how talented or hard working you are there are prospects that are simply unavailable.
The second class commenced at 10:30am and a class of Year Eleven equivalent students entered from locations both near and remote. As the class was smaller all students got one on one attention which was necessary as despite the older age of the class, they seemed to have a less knowledge of English. Even through the step by step approach to understanding certain tasks it was good to see that Sister Rita and her team’s extensive work with these kids was really working. After two hours of basic language skills such as grammar and dictation tasks, the classes finished and we prepared for what we thought may be one of the most nerve racking experiences of the journey so far. During this time the teachers gave professional development to the Timorese teachers and some resources from our schools.
Gleno Prison had high white walls which surrounded the interior buildings. There was a razor wire interior fence. It gave off a less intimidating air than we would expect. The prison rooms seemed more like dorms and a grassy and floral landscape surrounded a mini soccer/volley ball court which seemed a base for male prisoners. We walked inside and were immediately greeted by all inmates in a way that seemed as if our presence was a gift to them. After a few volleyball games, the girls headed off to meet the female prisoners. The women did not seem any different to those we met in the surrounding villages. The female portion of our group bonded particularly with a young mother and her one and a half year old son, Glenito. His name was a mix of the prison’s name (Gleno) and the Tetum word for beautiful ‘benito’. He was born in prison. To see such innocent smiles on these women made us wonder inwardly if they deserved such chastisement as this and if their crimes really called for such punishment.
Some women were in for something as small as ‘political disruption’. Conversing with women who seemed so normal and friendly came as a great surprise and challenged our expectations of hardened criminals. This made us question if what they had done was a true crime, or really the misfortune of a difficult situation. Do these prisoners have a real choice in what they did? However, we discovered one of the elder women had a fourteen year sentence for the decapitation of her sister in law over a land feud. This was a stark disparity. One of the poisoners was the former Justice minister who was put in jail for covering up some corruption by her husband. It had been hard for her especially as her brother was one of the heroes of post Indonesian invasion in 1975.
We then had mass with the whole prison – 40 men and 17 women. Our Eucharist was held in a small colourful chapel where we sat together with the prisoners making us forget what divides us and being very comfortable with what unites us. As our visit came to an end we were feeling weary because of this overwhelming experience. After a bumpy ride back, Sr Rita and some local kids were waiting for us to help them plant several palm trees. We then had our customary soccer game between our group and the locals, with most of the locals being under eight years old.
Seeing the joy on students and prisoners today really demonstrated to us how it is less about your surroundings and environment that affects your happiness and more about how you interpret the experiences that come your way. In spite of the obvious inequality between the people we saw today and our own group we were able to make friends with and converse with each other. It made us realise how similar we are to each other despite everything. Thinking back to home and the endless opportunities presented to us makes us truly grateful for our lives and families. But it also instilled in us a desire to see inequality ended.
At dinner we celebrated Logo’s 18th birthday and the other birthday’s this week – Oscar and Emily. We thanked Sr Rita and Frs Bong and Bert and JP. A presentation was also made of money raised by the 8 schools and associated communities to Sister Rita for scholarships and school essentials and Father Bong for much needed medical supplies. It is our last night in Railaco. We are sad to leave as we have appreciated so much the welcome we have received here.
Anabel Rowe and Alexandra McGill
Today was a contrast of sheer joy and guilt that comes with birth privilege. We started the day setting up our donated laptops to assist Timorese High School Students with their English skills before leading them through the program over two periods (still unsure how we transported 37 laptops to Timor Leste?). After a brief lunch, we drove to Gleno Prison. This gave us a better understanding of another aspect of Timorese culture in terms of how the justice system works.
We woke up after a better sleep. Following breakfast, the girls packed and move our rucksacks to the boys’ quarters so we could prepare our classroom for two full classes of Timorese students between the age of sixteen and eighteen. As the first class filtered in, we felt conscientious but concerned about the language barrier between us. We were aware that it was an optional Saturday class and the people we were teaching had a genuine desire to be there. This helped us to get over our initial apprehension. The first class was Year Ten equivalent and some knew a surprising knowledge of English, while others struggled with the basics. All they owned was a paper notebook and a pen and yet we were aware they were getting one of the better educations available to them. For most it was the first interaction with computer technology which was quite a revelation especially given our closeness of age. Considering how readily Wi-Fi and internet is at home, it reminds us of a vast contrast between our lives and installs a certain sense of guilt. Why does our country of birth decide our opportunities? Yet here no matter how talented or hard working you are there are prospects that are simply unavailable.
The second class commenced at 10:30am and a class of Year Eleven equivalent students entered from locations both near and remote. As the class was smaller all students got one on one attention which was necessary as despite the older age of the class, they seemed to have a less knowledge of English. Even through the step by step approach to understanding certain tasks it was good to see that Sister Rita and her team’s extensive work with these kids was really working. After two hours of basic language skills such as grammar and dictation tasks, the classes finished and we prepared for what we thought may be one of the most nerve racking experiences of the journey so far. During this time the teachers gave professional development to the Timorese teachers and some resources from our schools.
Gleno Prison had high white walls which surrounded the interior buildings. There was a razor wire interior fence. It gave off a less intimidating air than we would expect. The prison rooms seemed more like dorms and a grassy and floral landscape surrounded a mini soccer/volley ball court which seemed a base for male prisoners. We walked inside and were immediately greeted by all inmates in a way that seemed as if our presence was a gift to them. After a few volleyball games, the girls headed off to meet the female prisoners. The women did not seem any different to those we met in the surrounding villages. The female portion of our group bonded particularly with a young mother and her one and a half year old son, Glenito. His name was a mix of the prison’s name (Gleno) and the Tetum word for beautiful ‘benito’. He was born in prison. To see such innocent smiles on these women made us wonder inwardly if they deserved such chastisement as this and if their crimes really called for such punishment.
Some women were in for something as small as ‘political disruption’. Conversing with women who seemed so normal and friendly came as a great surprise and challenged our expectations of hardened criminals. This made us question if what they had done was a true crime, or really the misfortune of a difficult situation. Do these prisoners have a real choice in what they did? However, we discovered one of the elder women had a fourteen year sentence for the decapitation of her sister in law over a land feud. This was a stark disparity. One of the poisoners was the former Justice minister who was put in jail for covering up some corruption by her husband. It had been hard for her especially as her brother was one of the heroes of post Indonesian invasion in 1975.
We then had mass with the whole prison – 40 men and 17 women. Our Eucharist was held in a small colourful chapel where we sat together with the prisoners making us forget what divides us and being very comfortable with what unites us. As our visit came to an end we were feeling weary because of this overwhelming experience. After a bumpy ride back, Sr Rita and some local kids were waiting for us to help them plant several palm trees. We then had our customary soccer game between our group and the locals, with most of the locals being under eight years old.
Seeing the joy on students and prisoners today really demonstrated to us how it is less about your surroundings and environment that affects your happiness and more about how you interpret the experiences that come your way. In spite of the obvious inequality between the people we saw today and our own group we were able to make friends with and converse with each other. It made us realise how similar we are to each other despite everything. Thinking back to home and the endless opportunities presented to us makes us truly grateful for our lives and families. But it also instilled in us a desire to see inequality ended.
At dinner we celebrated Logo’s 18th birthday and the other birthday’s this week – Oscar and Emily. We thanked Sr Rita and Frs Bong and Bert and JP. A presentation was also made of money raised by the 8 schools and associated communities to Sister Rita for scholarships and school essentials and Father Bong for much needed medical supplies. It is our last night in Railaco. We are sad to leave as we have appreciated so much the welcome we have received here.
Anabel Rowe and Alexandra McGill