bun dia.
and so i have returned to timor leste - once known as timor timur to the indonesians and timor lorosae in the local tetum language.
this time, smiling faces and shining stars across the night sky greeted as the tiny nation went into the second round of elections or a presidential run-off.
prime minister jose ramos-horta won. but in between the elections and the announcement, i managed to get around capital city dili and neighbouring liquica district to test out my new camera.
and record moments and events as they came by.
the most important thing is of course the smiles that have returned to brighten the city just as the stars do the same at night and the sun in the day.
viva timor leste.
adeus

finally ended up down under.
after saying it for years, it took a wonderful woman to make me actually make my way down under to perth to meet up with friends and to enjoy a good holiday.
so took two weeks from work and the hectic travelling that has marked this year and flew down to perth during its winter.
it was nice and cold and the city and its environs a delight to the senses and balm to the mind and soul.
i could have lived in perth forever. well, you never know...
to that special lady who inspired me to go, to the wonderful johns who hosted me, to australia a great place to be - thank you!
g'day mates! too!

east timor.
timor timur. timor leste. and finally in its own language, timor lorosae which means timor where the sun rises, or east and thus east timor.
bundia, good day as they say in east timor.
my trip turned into a dilly-dally of sorts as the violence between a group of sacked soldiers and the tiny army spilled over to the streets with gangs aligned to the rival factions clashing in dili.
the net result was looting, buildings and other property torched and sectarian violence between the lorosae - people from where the sun rises, and loromonu - people from where the sun sets, or west.
funny, always thought they were just timorese.
during the course of work, am still here actually as i write this, found out the icons of this slice of paradise is not in the architecture - most have been razed to the ground anyway, but the people with their indefatigable spirit to soldier on in face of adversity.
after 450 years of portuguese colonisation, add 24 years of indonesian rule and you get a mish-mash of sorts but still something uniquely timorese.
for despite everything they have experienced, they can still flash a smile and it is as warm as the sunbeams that filter through the swaying palm trees of timor.
so here is to the people of timor, especially the bombeiros de dili - the firemen, who were a tower of strength when there was none.
adeus. goodbye.

the himalayan adventure continued for the second time in 2006. off i went again as a general strike crippled the world's only hindu monarchy that is nepal.
the people were on the warpath, along the chakrapath - the 27 kilometre road that skirted kathmandu city and where king gyanendra huddled in his narayanhity palace.
the stench of teargas, the sting of rubber bullets and the smash of rocks against shields were my companions as the authorities tried to impose some sort of curfew to snuff the protests.
in between the protests that rocked the nation, pun quite intended, managed to tour some of the squares with ancient architecture of pagoda temples dominating the skyline. the people are nice, the maze of alleys bustling with life despite the troubles and full of signboards and sights that raised more than a chuckle.
all too soon it was time to leave but the good folks at the nepal tourism board threw in a helicopter ride to the everest region for the hardworking hacks that we were.
and so on the last day of my latest stint, i was part of the crazy cohort that dashed our way to the himalayas, touching down under the mount everest base camp to land at tengboche, where a monastery dominated the immediate foreground as the mountains majestically provided the backdrop with the sunny sky.
however, mount everest was shrouded in some clouds but the yaks came out. and after that, as the nepalese would say, from himalaya to malaya, i made the long crazy journey home, with memories, mementoes and a mission to one day trek my way back to the mountains.

the road bifurcates, that's how a nepali will phrase it, between the popular tourist areas of kathmandu - and the sagarmatha park which includes mount everest - and the places that no tourists go, where maoists continue their revolt against the king.
namaste or namashkar as the nepali greeting goes. the road bifurcates, between capital city kathmandu and elsewhere, where they would call it kathman don't.
so i spent eight days in the world's only hindu kingdom, fleeting moments in kathmandu and longer time in western nepal to meet hilltribes and those who speak of the proletariat, reactionary forces and dialetics.
but nepal is more than that. the people are absolutely friendly, the place is cool and capital city kathmandu is swinging - an indian city full of chindians is how i would describe it.
from there, it was an hour's journey by air on an airline called buddha air to the western city of nepalgunj, which borders india.
nepalgunj is in the area called the terai, the fertile plain and start of the great deccan plateau just below the tibetan plateau - the roof of the world.
this is probably the parts of nepal that very few tourists would see. from nepalgunj, we made our way on road to dang, pronounced dung, before making the arduous trek to the maoist heartland.
it took us hours to traverse a rocky road just 62 kilometres long on a three-litre four-wheel-drive tata sumo, to the dusty one-street tila town.
along the road, and in smaller villages off the road, we met friendly, hard-working, always walking nepalis in the maoist heartland which is dotted by numerous arches and silver hammer and sickle logos airbrushed on red flags.
it was an adventure with pictures just jumping out to grab one's attention.
dhanybhad, thank you.