A Walk Under the Foreshadows of a Coffee Forest
Always follow the offshoot of the trail you’re on, could be cool stuff down there
Warning, foreshadowing ahead.
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Warning, foreshadowing ahead. <->
As March began to end, as did my Peace Corps training and time living in Gleno. Finishing the sludging crawl of training was a relief, but leaving Gleno would be bittersweet as I had grown very close to the family I had lived with for the past 10 weeks. Domingues Martins’ family had shown me so much love and introduced me to knowledge about Timor-Leste and the people living here that I could not have learned without them. Every weekend together involved some kind of adventure, always involving nature, family, or both. The weekend before I learned of, then left to, my permanent site for the next two years, was ripe for a special adventure.
My host family knew I had a penchant for walking. I knew they did not share my enthusiasm for a good stroll, though admittedly my pace is far beyond what most consider a leisurely meander. This is why it took me for surprise, and suspicion, when my host sister excitedly asked me if I’d like to hike up one of the many nearby mountains on the upcoming weekend. I had gone on a few group walks with host family members before, always with my 23-year-old host brother Aurelio and all the neighborhood boys following along. These walks varied between slick mountain paths, paved roads, and once even a mile barefoot upstream a turbulent waist high river (as opposed to just using the bridge as young boys love to prefer). What they all had in common was a snail's pace and complaints that led us to all of us to turn too early. Contrasted with my preferred walking style of speed, long self-indulgent gazes of a plant or animal, and sustained silence explains why I grew a little tired of these group walks. An adventure is better than nothing and I wanted someone to show me the more rugged and mountainous Ermera Villa just north of Gleno. I happily agreed with foolish doubt of how great of a time I would have.
Beautiful mountain town of Ermera Villa from above
I appreciate Ms. Domingas Martins very much, but she can be quite secretive with her plan making. Details were hard to come by, so I had no idea what we were going to do other than walk far. Though initially frustrating, I grew content with my ignorance, accepting that walking far was all I cared about. Sunday morning comes around when I find out we need to hitch a ride on a truck up the mountain. I thought we were going to walk up the mountain, not be driven up. Were we going to be in the car longer than on our feet? Oh well, I put the blinders back on and follow along. My words alone will do no justice to explain how damaged the road between Gleno and Ermera is. The constant rains of summer have transformed the road into a gravel strewn stream with pig sized gaps and horizontal clearance between cliff faces causing me to feel the need to lean towards safety to prevent tipping to our death. What a beautiful last sight it would’ve been. Perhaps the fear of a tumble heightened my senses because I was enthralled with the scenery of my potential burial ground. While rolling through one of the knee-high puddles, I joke that, “Ha’u espera karreta bele nani” hoping the car can swim. I was very happy that it got a laugh from everyone who can take a joke at their country’s roads expense. Towards the end of the drive, we passed a bridge that had been washed away into the ravine it previously crossed. Fortunately, we had another bridge next to it that we used to arrive at Ermera Villa.
This is an interactive story, use ur imagination to picture a thousand people all leaving at once
The first thing I saw as I got off the truck was a public plaza, the kind of amenity is something I only ever saw in the capital. I was enjoying seeing people lounge and chat together for their Sunday when Domingas taps me on the shoulder suggesting I turn around. A thousand worshippers descending down from the church on the hill. As beautiful as this sight was, it was coming from the direction we needed to go. Domingas grabs a pack of cookies from the corner store, and we set off upwards. From nearly vertical jagged cobblestone walkways to nearly vertical slick red earth we quickly rise above the town. Though it felt as if we left civilization, every family has a home only three minute walk from another’s. Absolute scenes on our trek as the scenery was as diverse as it was gorgeous. Every 15 minutes we’d go from total tree coverage blocking the sun to an open expanse with little more than just the sun. Any part of the walk featured the combination of vibrant orange ground and lush green foliage, a pairing that was so perfect it surprised me with how unexpected it felt. The name Ermera comes from the local Mumbai language for red water, indicative of all the redish orange streams of water flowing down the mountain feeding all the plants along the way.
In my enchantment of nature’s palette, I noticed an issue. Domingas has been absolutely smoking me. There I was in my optimal athletic wear, hiking boots, and water backpack struggling to keep up with this woman half my size wearing a dress with converse and holding a pack of cookies. Considering my earlier reservations worrying about her being a slow walker, I genuinely couldn’t be happier to be wrong. Despite the damaged ego, I am extremely content in our climb. There is an excess of literature about the effects that walking and exposure to nature have on our happiness. My monkey brain goes especially wild when I climb high above the earth and see much more than I could otherwise. I think about Ray Smith in Dharma Bums (thank you to Melissa for the recommendation) a pessimistic Buddhist who devoutly believes life to be suffering. After a few long hiking trips with his buddy Japhy, his tone flips to one of eager hopefulness. Of course, there are many convening factors for Ray’s spiritual evolution, and it is a semi fictional novel, but I still believe in the power of long walks amongst green (or orange, tan, or blue) to change one’s perspective to a more positive one. Just like how walking into a different room causes us to remember that one thing we just couldn’t think of, walking even further into a different environment brings myself a slew of understanding.
Mana Domingas, on the left
Eventually I find my stride and keep pace with Domingas. She takes me to the very top of the mountain where to our left I can see Ramelau, a famous and storied mountain on this island resembling half dome, and to my right I can see the freaking ocean. A fitting reward for the effort to get up here. Suddenly on the top of this mountain, she leads me into a random house. This is actually her house. She’s not my host sister. She’s my host cousin. I’ve known her two and a half months and did not know that until this moment. I also never needed to know. It makes sense, the commute to school is much easier from the town of Gleno than the top of this mountain. After eating rice, noodles, and chicken with the family we start our race down the mountain to beat the ever-present afternoon rain. To start our descent, we first climb a small hill. At the top of this hill appear three small piglets, each posing for us with the sun as their backdrop before a chaotic stumble down the hill guides them to a three foot leap into a mud bath. They embodied the energy of students finishing school to start summer in a teen movie. I couldn’t be happier for them. The way down inspired the same congenial feelings as the way up, just with more air in my lungs. Though at some points I regretted every bench press I had ever pushed, as I was convinced that my top heavy himbo pecs were going to be the cause of my downfall in the most literal way. To my reader’s dismay, I did not slip, but rather made it back to the village with the mud solely on my soles. The truck ride back was far less fear inducing than the way up as at least now I knew it could be done, though this one was suffocatingly stuffed as the transit drivers often refuse to leave until the vehicle is as hazardly packed as possible. I appreciate the hustle, but fervently wish my friends in America would learn to appreciate the beauty of a nearly empty bus!
I’m sure you can think of a better Bob Marely reference
Once I get home, I immediately grab my journal and start filling pages about my journey. I usually write down what I learned on any adventure. This one reminded me the beauty of long walks in the forest, something I hadn’t made the time for in a long time; however most importantly I wrote about how enamored I was with Ermera Villa. This place had captured then ignited my passion for exploration with its fresh cool air, vibrant fauna, and moment stopping views. Gleno, where I did my training, is a nice place with many more amenities, but it just isn’t Ermera Villa. I spend the rest of the following week singing the praises of this place that had affected me so deeply so quickly.
Amazing how much the landscape changes ten minutes at a time
The time comes, we finish our training. Before we can swear in as official Peace Corps Volunteers, we need to learn about our site information; the places where we will call home for the next two years. Will we love it, or will we have to learn to love it? The suspense is overwhelming! Despite my disbelief that the day would ever come, it does. We are all asked to sit cross legged in our training building with a map of Timor-Leste drawn on the floor. One by one site service descriptions and their respective locations are read out, paired with a volunteer, then followed by joyous applause. There are 19 of us, 17 are standing on the map of the country. With each passing reveal, I become increasingly excited as I am worried. Are all the good locations already taken? What would I even know to be able to worry about that? Finally, I am the only education volunteer left and the announcer is reading out a description of an education position, working in both a middle and a high school. This has to be my job. He goes on to read about the location, about how it is the heart of the country’s coffee industry up in the mountains and is the coldest and most rugged and remote site. He then says the name, Ermera Villa. I erupt from the floor and in a fervor race to shake the hands of those who have given me the opportunity to serve in such a place. I struggle to describe the grateful surrealness of learning that not only would I be returning to, but I’d be serving the next two years in Ermera Villa.
This is me emphatically celebrating Jade being placed in a middle school, as she wanted. Explanation is necessary, without context who’d know if I was praising or cursing the heavens.
Two days later we are shipped off to the capital to meet our new supervisors before swearing in as official Peace Corps Volunteers. The latter of which, I could not be more excited for. No longer am I a passive recipient of knowledge! I am now the catalyst of change and growth! Of course, education is a life long pursuit and I am incredibly eager to learn from the people of Ermera Villa every single day. By swearing in as a volunteer, I shed the shackles of training. The outcomes I am able to achieve in the next two years are nearly entirely within my control. I am empowered, I am capable, and I am feeling astounding. I’ve previously described at length the honor it was to be selected for this position, quite literally a dream come true; but now I am the one working to make other’s dreams come true. It’s an honor that is not lost on me. I hope to do impactful work under the shade of these coffee trees.
Taking our oath as official Peace Corps Volunteers!
