Source: Carnegie
Reprinted with permission from The New York Times, May 27, 2001.
Their land was brutally occupied by the Indonesian army for years, then ransacked
and burned by Indonesian-backed militias less than two years ago. Many have
seen their homes destroyed, their families dispersed and their possessions looted.
They have no special training facilities, poor equipment, inadequate nutrition
and little money. But less than a year after their emotional participation in
the 2000 Sydney Olympics, the athletes on the East Timorese national running
team are rebuilding a program, empowering themselves and inspiring a future
nation.
I went to East Timor in the beginning of May to interview the marathoner Aguida
Amaral, whose performance in the Sydney Games inspired the world. Much of East
Timor remains in shambles since Indonesian-supported militias rampaged the half-island
east of the Indonesian archipelago in 1999 after a popular vote for independence
in a United Nations-sponsored referendum. The process of rebuilding structures,
institutions and lives is just beginning.
At the Taci-Tolu training grounds west of East Timor's capital, Dili, the runners
wondered why a strange foreigner had appeared in the moonlit field for their
5:30 a.m. practice, but they offered a reassuringly warm greeting nonetheless.
Amaral and her teammates were in the final stages of preparing for the Arafura
Games, a biannual regional multisport competition in Darwin, Australia, which
began May 19 and ended yesterday.
The Arafura Games are big news in East Timor; this would be the first time
East Timorese athletes had competed under their own flag. But just two weeks
before the games, the athletes were still uncertain which flag it would be ?
the flag of the United Nations mission administering East Timor or the flag
of the coordinated resistance movement from the Indonesian period.
We started the workout with 13 half-mile runs around the perimeter of the field,
with a two-minute rest between each. As we ran, we passed the skeletal remains
of burned homes and the site of a massacre by the Indonesian army following
its bloody 1975 invasion of this former Portuguese colony. Discarded plastic
bottles and scraps of cardboard make the grounds look more like a landfill than
a training ground for elite athletes. Over the ensuing week of runs along the
island-nation's sun- drenched coast, sharing water and meeting families, I learned
more about Amaral and her remarkable teammates, who are helping to build a nation,
step by step.
Amaral, 28, a powerful 4 feet 10 inches with a face-encompassing smile, has
become a source of national pride following her 43rd-place finish in the Olympic
marathon in a time of 3 hours 10 minutes 55 seconds. In the year before the
Sydney Games, she had been forcibly separated from her husband and sent to a
squalid refugee camp, where she and her three children slept beside a dirt road.
After the Australian-led military intervention in September 1999, she returned
to a tearful reunion with her husband and began training. Pregnant with her
fourth child, she ran barefoot in the smoldering capital city because her running
shoes had been looted along with her other possessions. "I needed to keep going,"
she said. "Quitting was not an option."
Amaral, beaming, completed the final lap of the Olympic marathon to thunderous
applause.
Because East Timor is not yet considered a fully independent country, but rather
a United Nations protectorate, Amaral and the other three East Timorese Olympians
? a marathoner, a boxer and a weight lifter ? marched under the Olympic flag
and competed in white uniforms as individual Olympic athletes. At home in poverty-
stricken East Timor, anyone with access to a television ? many crammed into
churches ? watched spellbound and often in tears as Amaral and the other East
Timorese athletes introduced their newfound freedom to the world. Amaral returned
from Sydney and began training for the Arafura Games, determined to top her
best time.
While training with the runners at the Taci-Tolu grounds, I found that each
of them had a similarly remarkable story.
Xavier Dorego, the 25-year-old team clown and prankster, had secretly joined
the Falantil resistance movement before the 1999 referendum. He fled into the
dense Timorese hills when violence broke out and became the runner for the terrified
population hiding in the forest. He would race two miles to the nearby town
of Dare to secretly bring back Timorese doctors to treat wounded patients too
afraid to seek medical care in the Indonesian-controlled towns. Dorego later
led Australian troops on a rescue of the weakened forest population. In Dili,
he learned that his cousin and his uncle had been shot and killed by militias.
"I run to honor their memory," he said.
Mariana Dias Ximenes, a thoughtful and cherubic 19-year-old, returned from
the hills after the Australian intervention and saw the Dili harbor filled with
the bloated bodies of the dead. But as Ximenes watched her friends Amaral and
Calisto Da Costa, the men's marathoner, running in the Olympics less than a
year later, she vowed that she would make it to the 2004 Athens Games to "do
my best for my country, East Timor."
She finishes each 13-mile training run with intense 200-meter sprints.
The shy middle-distance runner Elvibno Da Silva, 21, ran to join his uncle
in the mountain town of Ossu when the violence broke out, only to see his uncle
murdered by militias the day he arrived. Escaping back to militia-controlled
Dili, he pretended to be an Indonesian supporter. Da Silva is still haunted
by the memory of watching helplessly as a friend, the boxer Americo Thomas,
was shot and killed in front of the Dili sports center. He runs with the quiet
determination of a man who has seen the depths of despair, but who has chosen
to follow the path of hope.
While I was there, the workout schedule was supplemented by four discussion
sessions with Xanana Gusmao, the father of East Timorese independence.
"The Arafura Games are more than a sporting event," Gusmao told them. "They
are a place where each of you can continue the struggle for East Timorese independence
through your behavior."
Despite the painful recent history, he implored the athletes to treat the Indonesian
competitors with respect. Gusmao then appealed to United Nations and foreign
mission representatives who had joined the meeting for an emergency $6,000 worth
of eggs and milk to feed the athletes during their time in Darwin.
The extra meetings put a strain on Amaral, now a mother of four. If she has
to keep going to these meetings, she asked, who will cook for her children?
She made it to the first meeting, but then asked me to take her to the local
clinic because her baby had a painful respiratory infection. The clinic was
crammed with crying babies and nervous mothers. The American volunteer doctor
examined Amaral's child and wrote a prescription, and we raced back for another
political session.
Despite these challenges, Amaral has found time to start a running club for
local children, which meets daily for running, swimming and soccer. Each of
the six young team members I interviewed told me they were running every day
to be like Amaral, their hero.
Two days before the team was scheduled to leave for Darwin on May 14, the Australian
mission called the East Timorese Sports Federation to report that Amaral's chest
X-ray, a requirement for obtaining an Australian visa, had shown abnormalities
and was being reviewed by doctors in Canberra. The sad yet still excited team
? which would be competing for the first time under the flag of the coordinated
resistance movement ? had to leave without its most experienced runner, hoping
the abnormality might prove inconsequential and a visa could be granted.
Doctors preliminarily found that Amaral had pneumonia, which she had probably
contracted from sleeping on the floor of her small home, and she was denied
a visa. Sitting home listening to radio reports of her teammates in Darwin,
Amaral was sad about missing the games, but proud of what her colleagues were
doing. Like many Timorese, she rejoiced when news came that Ximenes had won
gold medals in the 5,000 and 10,000 meters and the half marathon, and that Amaral's
Olympic partner, Da Costa, had won golds in the 10,000 meters and the half marathon.
Despite the unexpected successes, the East Timorese team will take home relatively
few medals from the Arafura Games. But in East Timor, competition is not about
winning as much as it is about striving, about getting up and moving forward
no matter how many times you are knocked down. The athletes have become symbols
of a nation whose victory is occurring within their hearts. They have survived.
They have overcome. And they are striding with every ounce of energy toward
a difficult yet hopeful future.