Now that I've had a couple of weeks to 'decompress', I'm able to look back on my time in Timor-Leste with some fondness. Although it was quite stressful for the last month or so as we were running around trying to arrange for engineers and aircraft to come and fix our aircraft that was grounded in mid-October, I've been able to take a step back and look at the bigger picture.
The Highlights
1. Flying experience
The reason that I went to Timor was to fill a relief pilot role, and I'm grateful for the opportunity. Not only was it 192 hrs for my logbook, but this was my first experience of 'proper' commercial flying. That means organising yourself around your client rather than your own preferences (e.g. what time you set your alarm in the morning). The flights varied from medevacs to NGO charters, to private charters for families wanting to go to Atauro Island for the weekend, to government charters for ministers and even the President of Oecusse.
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| Flying the President of Oecusse and other ministers |
I also gained invaluable experience taking off and landing on 'proper' short airstrips, and also having to contend with some serious weather.
All of these will be useful when it comes to developing flight training scenarios, as I'll have personal experience to draw on!
2. Medevacs - making a difference
During my debrief the interviewers asked how the medevacs had affected me, and they seemed surprised when I said they hadn't - even though there had been some that were quite severe. I guess I have an ability to compartmentalise things, and to be able to focus on my task of flying the aircraft even when there is a critically ill person on board calling out in pain, or a woman in labour, or when the front seat passenger is vomiting into a sick bag on finals (yes, that happened - more than once). It's not that I don't care about the person, or that every medevac starts to feel the same and it gets mundane - far from it. I took great satisfaction in seeing each one transferred to the ambulance in Dili and taken to hospital.
All up I flew 91 medevacs, accounting for 111 patients; the most in a single day being 4 flights with 7 patients. It was an honour to be able to make a difference in their lives.
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| Preparing medevac passengers for a flight to Dili |
3. Being a role model
The first couple of times I went to Viqueque, there were murmurings in the crowd that I knew were about me: the pilotu (pilot) feto (woman). I asked Aldo what they were saying (since I had to take him or Ameu along for the first 10 medevacs) and he replied, 'They said they would be too scared to fly with the lady pilot!'
However, over time, they must have figured out that the pilotu feto couldn't be too bad, because she and the aeroplane kept coming back. After a month or so people started approaching me to have their photo taken with me - mostly women, but often men as well. By the time I left this was a very regular occurrence!
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| One of many photos taken with trainee nurses at Baucau |
In my previous career as a research physicist, I was aware that I was operating in a male-dominated environment - and in aviation, it is even more so. Consider that among physics PhD holders the female representation is around 20%, while amongst commercial pilots it is around 6%. If in our western thinking 'scientist' and 'pilot' are considered as male occupations, how much more so in a country like Timor-Leste! I hope that me just being there and interacting with people, could be an inspiration for young women, and for parents of girls, that being a girl needn't be a limitation to a person's dreams and aspirations.
4. Exploring
I am especially grateful that I was able to go for bike rides with Rob and Catharina almost every weekend. This provided exercise, friendship, and many opportunities to learn more about the people and places in and around Dili, and how the events of the last 20 years had affected people and shaped the nation. We had a couple of trips to Liquica and Maubara, a couple to Gleno, some shorter rides to Dare, a bike race involving the Hera loop.
Then there was the overnight bike trip to Letefoho, which although it was so hard I don't know that I'd do it again, I was very glad to have done.
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| Last bike ride before leaving Dili - flying the flag on Proclamation of Independence Day |
Our long weekend trip to Mt Ramelau was fantastic. Another highlight was my road trip to Suai with Aldo.
The Lowlights
1. Daily life issues
Traffic, house problems, water pump issues... Some days I was able to deal with these ok. Other days I was not. This was one of those times when being single is really hard, because there's nobody else in the house to call on for help or comfort. But I came to realise that when it comes to these kinds of issues, there are always multiple ways to solve a problem.
2. Isolation
This was my first experience living in a country (as opposed to visiting) where English was not the primary language. In Timor-Leste, the official languages are Portuguese and Tetun. In addition, many people speak Bahasa (Indonesian), and there are numerous local languages and dialects. Estimates of how many people speak English ranges from 5-20% of the population. Since my relief stint was only 6 months and I needed to get up to speed on flying the aircraft in and out of all the routes and airstrips as soon as possible, there was no time available for attending language classes that would normally happen for a new staff member arriving in a programme. As a result, even though I was living in Dili (population 220,000), my inability to communicate meant that my social circle was limited to my workmates and Rob and Catharina. I was thankful that I could keep in touch with friends and family back in NZ - even if it meant that I had to go for a short drive to get a decent mobile signal.
Another aspect that made things hard was only having a skeleton crew in country - two relief pilots, with limited external support from the wider MAF management. At times it felt like we were invisible to them. But I remember one flight where I was lamenting to God about this, and He told me, 'Don't worry; I know where you are.'
Both of these aspects have shown me that being a single person in a small MAF programme would probably be too hard for me, which is useful when it comes time to apply for future positions.
3. Uncertainty
2020 has been a difficult year for everyone, with the chronic uncertainty caused by Covid affecting all of us. My contract amendment letter had said that I would spend 'up to six months' in Timor-Leste, yet towards the end of that time there was a lot of uncertainty as to when other pilots could arrive, which naturally affected when we could leave. This was very frustrating as it was something that could - and should - have been arranged much earlier. In the end our departure was a hurried affair. I have come to realise and accept that we had little choice under the circumstances. But it did leave a bitter taste on my first MAF programme placement.
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