Sorry. Finish.

Remember as a kid when you opened the food cupboard?  For me anyway, there was great anticipation.  What had mum bought this week?  Would there be anything I liked?  Or would she have stocked it with things I hated, but that would nonetheless grace my plate with the expectation that I would eat them?  Shopping in Timor-Leste-Leste is a similar experience. 

Brands come and go with no apparent rhyme nor reason.  It doesn’t matter how popular something is, it may disappear for months.  Take water for example.  Bottled water is a staple in Timor-Leste – and it’s cheap.  Anyway, the water disappeared from the local supermarkets.  I scoured the shelves and when I could find not even the smallest bottle, I asked one of the staff. 
“Water?”

“Sorry.  Finish.”

It’s the standard reply and I suspect it can mean a variety of things: “Sorry, that’s a very popular line and we’ve unfortunately run out”; “It’s five minutes ‘til my break and to be honest I seriously can’t be arsed  bothering with your question”; “What is water?  I have no idea what you’re talking about.  Come back when you can speak the language”; “Yeah well I’d love to help you but the wharfies are holding the shipping container with the water to ransom.  They’re demanding over $20,000 a month.  We’ll be lucky to see it this side of Christmas . . . next year.”

The figure quoted to me for ‘wharf fees’ was actually $200,000 a month.  That seems exorbitant – even at Timor-Leste rates.  Still, the principle remains valid.  If you don’t pay the bribe you don’t get your container.  Perhaps the most annoying thing about this is that it apparently doesn’t apply to everyone.  When the supermarkets failed to stock water, I simply went to the little kiosks; they had an ample supply.  And so it is in Dili.

For example, my petrol gauge was on empty this morning and since I’d promised a colleague I’d go bike riding with her, I actually needed some.  I stopped at Tiger Fuel, arguably the most notable service station in Dili.  The man at the pump waved me in – yes in Dili it really is still a service station.  As I dismounted and was about to open the fuel tank, he shook his head and said, “Sorry.  Finish. Maybe four o’clock.”  Great.  My ride was scheduled for two.

But here’s the thing.  Just because one vendor has “Sorry.  Finished” a product, there are others who haven’t.  So fortunately when I pulled into the service station about a kilometre down the road I was greeted by an attendant, ready, willing, able and with access to fuel enough to fill my tank.  Three dollars fifty.  That’s what it took.  All you have to do is shop around . . . and sometimes around . . . and around . . . and around.  There’s also an element of patience. Products here are a bit like seventies fashions.  If you wait long enough they come back.

Like Nutri-Grain.  I stumbled upon it at Leader Supermarket in my early Dili days and assumed it to be a staple.  Erroneously as it turns out.  There is another supermarket down my end of town – Landmark.  (The more at the other end of town is called Lita and you might be excused for thinking that there is a law that requires all supermarkets popular with Malae to adopt a name that starts with ‘L’.)  Anyway, Landmark is usually not the supermarket of choice.  As a general rule it has a limited selection.  But it was hot and Landmark does have good air-conditioning.  It was in these circumstances that I discovered they had Nutri-Grain.  They’d never had it before, and I’m lead to believe by those who’ve lived here for longer than I, that they may never have it again.  I bought three boxes.

Product pricing is interesting too.  Australian chocolate is expensive - $37 for a box of Cadbury’s chocolates.  One dollar for a Curly-Wurly.  An Oral B toothbrush costs anything from 65c to $6.50 (Guess which one I bought?)  A 500ml bottle of water is 25c, a litre is 75c and a water cooler sized bottle is $1 – but you need a water cooler to be able to use it.  A 300ml can of coke – yes they sell the little ones!  A litre bottle is 75c.  My 290g box of Nutri-Grain cost $5.30.  The only reliable staple, two-minute noodles sell for 20c and are a must for any household.  Jars of coffee are anything from $5 to $10, but you can buy thirty sachets of pre-mix (with complementary box) for $3.00. 

It’s a lottery; a crap shoot; a lucky dip; whatever you like to call situations where you have no control.  It makes life interesting – and certainly crystalises what you really do love and miss. 

Well, that’s it.  I’ve no more words tonight. 

“Sorry.  Finish.”   ;-)