If the Anzac spirit is about mateship, about doing something nice for someone simply because you have the capacity to do so then it is embodied in many of the expats that lay their heads on Dili beds for at least part of each month.
There are the young volunteers who, for a small stipend, give freely of their time and developing expertise. There are the big burly blokes with tatts that organise an annual Christmas party for Dili’s orphans.
These are people dedicated, for at least a short while, to making a positive difference to the country generally. But there are people here who try to make the country different for those of us who may not have easy access to simply things that people living in Australia take for granted.
I’ve experienced this first hand. A friend of a friend, who I’d met briefly once, who found me at a seminar to say, “I’m going back to Australia for Christmas, I want to lend you my bike while I’m gone.” And because I only have a motorbike, she delivered the bike to me in her car.
A friend I’d known only for a few weeks who also went home for Christmas and offered to bring back whatever I wanted – even a bike. Should I buy one in Melbourne, she told me, I should let her know and she’d bring it back for me. She texted me the other night to say, “I’m heading back Monday morning, let me know what to bring.”
Of course there is the friend who is bringing me a bike back. Shipped up the eastern seaboard to his place, then carted to Dili via Darwin. And the other friend who, having gone back to Australia now, has offered his PO Box and a second friend who still works here as a fly-in, fly-out, as courier for anything “except for drugs” J Not sure what he thinks I do in my spare time.
I’m not the only one who’s experienced this generosity. I went riding today with someone who told me how one of the Aussie guys brought her steak and bacon. Yeah see, you’d just pop down to Coles. I can tell you that the bacon here looks something like a grey old sock that the cat’s been chewing for a good few months.
I personally think that this is the true idea of mateship; that doing something intensely meaningful for someone else for no other reason than you have the capacity to do so. I am certainly chalking up all these kindnesses and hope that some day in some small way, I get to pay it forward – or backward, or even sideways if it makes someone’s life easier.
And now I have to admit that it’s not just Australians. Some American friends were talking about getting books brought to them. As one put it, “It’s not just a direct route, sometimes it’s this huge long chain of people.”
Yep, it goes something like this:
“Damn it I’ve run out of decent underwear / socks / books to read / text books / stationary items / insert whatever.”
“Really? Hey, I bet you that my uncle’s cousins, aunt’s sisters, daughter-in-law could get that for you. And let me see, hmmmm, if they gave it to my step-father’s first wife’s son’s girlfriend’s brother, I bet he could give it to his second-cousin’s, friend who knows this guy who knows the step-sister of the aunt of the brother of the guy that works in the UN. There you go, problem solved. You’ll have your decent underwear / socks / books to read / text books / stationary items / insert whatever.”
Perhaps Dili is living proof that adversity does indeed create a bond of humanity that transcends the mundane and borders on the truly altruistic. Hurray for the best of human nature!!
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