After many years under Portuguese control, then bloody Indonesian rule, the little island of East Timor finally became independent in 2002. As one of the poorest countries in Asia, it is trying to develop however it can, including by attracting tourists. Writer and teacher Gillian Kennedy spent a couple of years there. She has kindly agreed to enlighten us on the state of vegetarianism in Timor. She is now back in Australia, but you can still read Gillian’s Timor blog.

Teresa:  Where are you from originally?

Gillian:  I’m originally from Sydney, although now I live in Broome,Western Australia.

Teresa:  How did you come to live in East Timor?

Gillian:  My husband, Wade, landed his “dream job” in June 2009, working on a sustainable agriculture project with farmers living in the remote enclave of Oecusse.  So I basically tagged along for the ride.

Teresa:  It looks like you’re a vegetarian from what I’ve read of your blogs. Is this correct? If so, how did you choose vegetarianism?

Gillian:  I’m not a strict vegetarian, but at home with Wade – who has been a vego for most of his life – we do eat mainly vegetarian foods, but we also eat seafood.  I will eat any food if it tastes good!

Teresa:  How difficult was it to find vegetarian food in East Timor?

Gillian:  It was not at all difficult.  The Timorese love their tempeh and tofu and in Oecusse, where we lived, women would make it at home and sell it fresh at the markets.  There was also a vast array of organic veggies at the weekly Saturday market – avocados, beans, excellent tomatoes, watercress, pumpkins, Thai basil, mint, and of course all the obvious tropical fruits like papaya, banana and mango.  There wasn’t much that we had to go without.

In the capital, Dili, the choices were even more diverse as the markets and supermarkets sold produce from many districts of Timor, as well as some imported produce.

Teresa:  What was the local attitude toward vegetarianism?

Gillian:  Because the people are so poor in East Timor, much of their diet consists of just rice and vegetables, except when they have large celebrations when it is traditional to serve a freshly-slaughtered cow, pig or goat.  So, being “rich” westerners, I think some people thought it was a bit strange that Wade and I didn’t eat meat.  I think they probably just put it down to yet another odd foreigner idiosyncrasy.

Teresa:  I have read that it’s considered very rude to refuse food in East Timor. Did you find yourself in situations where you had to choose between rudeness and eating things you didn’t want?

Gillian:  The Timorese tradition for eating with large groups is to eat “buffet-style”, so we were able to pick and choose the foods we put on our plate.  When we first arrived in Oecusse we would often put meat on our plate out of politeness (and then try and sneak it to the hungry-looking dogs!).  But after being there for a while we stopped doing that and just took the foods that we actually wanted to eat.  I always justified this because, although we didn’t take the meat, it meant there was more to go around for the local people who couldn’t afford to eat it every day. But I don’t think anyone ever really noticed the food we put on our plates anyway.

Teresa:  You mentioned the availability of organic food. Is there a lot of awareness of the organic movement? Or is it more lack of chemical availability?

Gillian:  I think that organic food is more a necessity rather than a philosophy (after all, MSG features rather heavily in the average Timorese diet).  Organic farming in Oecusse has been the result of educating farmers in permaculture/agroforestry, which makes use of compost and manure as the main forms of fertilizer.  This is a very cost-effective and productive way of farming.

Teresa:  Where do Westerners eat? Where do Timorese eat? Are these the same places?

Gillian:  In Dili there are definite places that are considered malae (foreigner) restaurants.  These are usually quite expensive and it is rare to see Timorese people eating there, unless they have lots of money.

Timorese often seem to eat “on-the-run”, sitting under a tree sipping from a green coconut or stopping at the roadside barbecues for a quick satay stick.  Malae will sometimes eat at these places, but it is usually more of a novelty rather than a regular practice.

There are also lots of Indonesian-style “Padang” restaurants.  These restaurants display a variety of dishes in bowls in the front window (with lots of delicious vegetarian options) and are quite cheap (say, US$3 for a plate of rice with tempeh and veggies).  My favourite dish was the eggplant (aubergine) sambal.  Both Timorese and foreigners frequent these restaurants.

Teresa:  How is the level of safety for women?

Gillian:  While I (thankfully) never had any problems, I did hear of quite a few young women having some unpleasant experiences such as bag snatchings or varying forms of harassment.  Usually these occurred when women were walking alone, often at night or in places where there were few people around.  The main problem areas are found around Dili.  In Oecusse, the sleepy town where I lived, I walked alone on the beach all the time and never once felt unsafe.  I think it really depends where you go.  Like anywhere, you have to use your common sense and probably think about your transport options before heading out.

Teresa:  I’ve seen many references to lack of food in the autumn. Were you affected by “hungry season?”

Gillian:  Personally we weren’t affected by the hungry season, mainly because much of our “western” food was brought in from the Dili supermarkets, so we usually had a fairly healthy stock of pasta, tinned foods and dried beans etc.  But many of the Timorese people living around me had big problems over the wet season (which lasts from around November to February/March).  In particular, those living in the more remote areas, were blocked off by the Tono River, which becomes impassable over this period; they could not get their rice and many of their crops were destroyed due to flooding.  The cost of rice also sky-rocketed during this time.  Thankfully, the villagers have been learning how to dry and store foods such as corn and rice so that they can have some stocks for the wet season.  As a result, farmers undertaking Wade’s program had reduced the “hungry season” from four months to two months.