DILI — Its 4.45pm and the heat is stifling. There is a crowd of students at the door, smiling at me hopefully. Some have travelled miles on foot, on top of buses and in carts to get here. Word had spread that English courses are being offered at the university. We have had to turn scores away. We only have 25 computers for 500 students.
The walls are blackened from being firebombed by the pro-Jakarta militia last year. There is no glass in the windows and the power goes off regularly. But the students remain determined. Those we have turned away listen and take notes through the windows.
Despite often horrendous living conditions, organisation for a new Timor continues. Roadblocks, army carriers and rumours of a militia presence remind us that the National Council of Timorese Resistance (CNRT) conference is taking place just down the road.
Dili is a place of contrasts. Stunning mountains plunging into the sea form the background to a town devastated by fighting. Many buildings have been destroyed and the roads are breaking up.
Massive assistance is needed to rebuild the capital, towns and provinces. Money is desperately needed for the grassroots projects under way, such as those to help widows of Falintil fighters and single mothers. Unfortunately, these projects take second place to the United Nation's construction of a new state amenable to Western interests.
I was informed by an Australian economic consultant for the UN Transitional Administration in East Timor that the Timorese were asking for "way too much" of the profits from the Timor Gap oil. He added that wages should be kept in line with wages in Indonesia so East Timor can remain "competitive". Meanwhile unemployment, health and housing remain critical problems.
There is widespread disenchantment with the UN; not enough is being done to help rebuild the country. The dissatisfaction is exacerbated by UN employees' displays of wealth and the racism of many Western workers.
The Hotel Olympia, a massive ship moored in the Dili harbour, is symbolic of the excesses and the growing divide between Timorese and Westerners. It costs around US$200 a night to live there. After 10pm, women as young as 15 go aboard; prostitution rackets are run through the Hotel Olympia's top bar.
"Consultants" are rushing here for the nice cars, air-conditioned houses, free trips to Darwin and Indonesia, and salaries up to four times greater than at home. Another Australian consultant summed up their cynical attitude when he told me, "Well, you've got to get on the gravy train".
BY FRANCESCA DAVIS