I was told this week of the passing of Henry, one of those Dili characters that FOS over at Xanana Republic speaks of in his own personal farewell.  I met Henry in 2006 when I was looking for an electrician … and I mean someone who actually seemed to understand what he was doing.  Some of the local alternatives (not always local either) did not inspire confidence.

So I meet up with this guy one day and ask him if he is interested in doing some electrical work.  I had been told he had other things going on in his world like looking after the Dili Backpackers and the Venture Hotel.  He grizzled and cursed but finally said alright.  And so started an irregular relationship usually kicked off by electrical and/or generator problems.  I recall texting him to see if he could come over in a hurry and got back a 2 word response “f*** yes”.  That was Henry.  I kept that text on my phone for over 12 months and from time to time, showed to others.  It always gave me a laugh.

Sometimes I would bump into him at the bar at the Backpackers (the Smokehouse) and sometimes wave as he passed in his beat-up ute.  I remember I once asked him to write a little report detailing the problems he had encountered and the work required to fix it.  The response was “aw f*** !  Can’t you write it”.  I never asked again … and I did write it.

I invited Henry to my own farewell.  He came in his usual dishevelled state – shorts, boots and over-used shirt – looking (as usual) like he had just got out bed.  He grizzled to me “What am I doing here ? All I have done is fix your electrical problems.  I don’t fit in with these people … these are your friends.  I won’t stay long.”  He was the last to leave and I spoke to him longer than anyone else.

That was the last time I saw Henry.  I think he actually felt chuffed to have been invited.  No Henry, I was chuffed that you came – like every other time I had a problem.  You usually grizzled, nearly always cursed but you always came.

Nothing much happening really.  Lots of afternoon rain lately.  Lots of roof leaks.  Yesterday, a foul smell started emanating from the house.  Today, the smell is now in the bedroom and very suggestive of a dead rat festering away in a pool of water in the ceiling.

Got bitten by a dog recently.  Lots of blood.  Bruising like I have been beaten with a baseball bat.  Even more colourful language of the lumberjack variety.  Rabies booster.  Sore leg.  Poor sleeping.  Mood swings.

Otherwise not much happening here.

Today and tomorrow are public holidays here in TL. Toothpaste. I have become a “Darlie” toothpaste convert. My chance to support political correctness in toothpaste. Absolution through ablution.

It appears that the next-door neighbour has acquired a new rooster. If you usually live in a bigger city, you think that roosters do their crowing at dawn, thus saving on the necessity of having an alarm clock.

No-one told this rooster of the morning wake-up call requirement, nor has any Timorese rooster been through the same rooster school. They crow at any old time.

Add on the usual goats grazing in the streets (and the pigs who concentrate on the rubbish bin around the corner) and the only thing missing is milking the cows in the morning.

Three weeks ago, the Dili power supply encountered problems and there have been numerous and lengthy power cuts right across the city ever since.

Now this is OK if you have a generator supplying backup power. Generators are quite common here but domestically, tend to be available at hotels, some restaurants, serviced apartments and the numerous smaller accommodation complexes around town. Outside that, it is pretty much for the elite. Many expats enjoy the benefits of these generators.

I am in the smaller accommodation complexes category. This is good except the generator has been failing ever since this round of cuts started. For the last 2 weeks, the cuts have been daily and usually between 7pm and midnight and averaging about 3 hours.

You might think it is just a matter of calling a mechanic and the job is done. Well, local Timorese mechanics were unable to solve the problem, so a search went out for the best man in town. However, the best man in town was in hospital in Darwin.

Eventually, about the 5th person to look at the generator found a loose wire and re-connected it. Problem solved ! Hopefully, 2 weeks of candle power are over and I can remember the 1st half of the book I was reading 2 weeks ago.