The Lost World

Hello again,

As I teased in my last post, the following chronicles a few adventures that took place over the Easter holidays, most notably climbing the mountain known as Mundu Perdidu 'The Lost World'.

Mundu Perdidu has allured me since my arrival in Venilale. Every day on my walk back from work I see it looming in the background, verdant and usually covered in thick fog. Although the mountain is not located my district of Baucau but rather in Viqueque, the walk from my house to the border of the two districts is only two miles. Still, the distance to the mountain itself is too far to walk comfortably. Part of reason I hadn't gone yet, despite my fascination, was my lack of transportation. One must ride a car or motorbike to get there. Incidentally, Peace Corps volunteers are not permitted to ride motorbikes and I had no car to take me. So I was understandably elated when a fellow English teacher at my school, Jonny, suggested that we go during the extended Easter holidays, paying a driver to take us to and from. As it turned out, another volunteer who lives in another part of the Baucau wanted to take advantage of the holiday and come see Venilale. Perfect. He could come along with the three of us that live in the Venilale sub-district and Jonny to conquer the Lost World.

As the morning of our departure finally came, the five of us along with a couple teenagers that are my friend's neighbors climbed into the rear of the angguna (essentially a pick up truck with bench seats fitted into it) that would take us to the base of the mountain. My two host brothers Bosco (15) and Melky (18) followed us on their motorbike as the final members of our group. The drive to the start point of our hike wasn't too long — perhaps 40 minutes to an hour. Geographically, it is quite close, but the nice paved road built by the Chinese ends abruptly as you cross the bridge from Baucau into Viqueque where you are met by a not-so-nice gravel road. This adds a significant amount of time to the journey in addition to a bumpy ride. Arriving at Jonny's brother-in-law's house, we descended from the truck and began our ascent.

A view from the drive to the moutain. Timorese sacred houses with a mountain (not Mundu Perdidu) in the background.

The first section of the hike was defined by a hot sun and little tree cover. In lieu of trees were the strange giant succulents you see in the photo below. A reverse Google image search failed to identify them. We quickly realized that there was not necessarily...a path leading up the mountain. Instead we spent much of the climb making our way through tall brush, branches, and numerous other obstacles that nature put in our "path". Our group took a couple of breaks to drink water and eat snacks we'd brought as we made our way up. The hike was clearly divisible into two sections: The first was the sunny, relatively open section I just described, while the second was truly like entering another world...a Lost World (sorry that's the last time I'll do that).

The entrance to the jungle marked our final ascent to the top and temporary relief from the sun that had scorched by skin (which, as you'll come to read, I did exacerbate the following day). Suddenly the temperature began to drop, fog appeared, and a slight drizzle came from above. As we reached a "look out point" near the summit, we couldn't look out at much. A white abyss met the sharp cliff where we sat, rested, and ate together. I'll admit that even as a Wisconsinite, I was slightly chilly up there in my t-shirt and shorts. Slightly chilly felt good after six months of living in Timor-Leste where the temperature usually fluctuates between a freezing 75ºF and a blazing 85ºF. From the lookout point, we continued to trudge through the moist jungle towards the true summit of Mundu Perdidu, marked by a stone pillar put there by the Portuguese military during their last years as colonial power in Timor-Leste.

As I walked through the beautiful forest near the mountain's peak, I thought about the historical and cultural significance that mark Mundu Perdidu as such an important place. On December 7, 1975, just nine days after the Revolutionary Front for an Independent East Timor (Fretilin) declared independence from Portugal, Indonesian forces embarked on a brutal and swift invasion of Timor-Leste. In response, Falintil (the Armed Forces for the National Liberation of East Timor) guerrilla fighters took to the mountains and began a campaign of armed resistance against the Indonesian occupiers that lasted for 24 years. After becoming Falintil's second commander in 1981, Xanana Gusmão (the current prime minister of Timor-Leste), took refuge on Mundu Perdidu as he continued the fight for Timorese independence. On our way to the base of the mountain, we passed something that seemed quite out of the ordinary — a giant gate, standing in the middle of a field otherwise occupied only by buffalo (see photo below). Engraved in large golden letters about the arch was "Jardim dos Herois da Patria Larigutu" (trans. Garden of the Heroes of the Fatherland Larigutu). This was the location, I was informed by Jonny, of a meeting between Xanana (who is known here either mononymously or by avoo Xanana 'grandfather Xanana') and Prabowo Subianto, then an Indonesian Special Forces commander and now the president elect of Indonesia (and someone who has allegedly committed human rights abuses in both Timor-Leste and West Papua). Thinking of the history that Mundu Perdidu has seen gave the hike another meaning all together.

Jardim dos Herois da Patria Larigutu

Once reaching the western peak of the mountain, we began our long descent. In some ways, the descent was just as challenging as the climb because of the danger of slipping and tripping on mud, rocks, plants, and a whole host of hazards that were concealed from our view. We made our way down slowly, through the foggy jungle to the tree-less section, and eventually back to where we had began that morning.

All said and done, the hike took us five hours and twenty minutes (including our rest near the summit), covered a distance of only 5.88 miles, but included 2,572 feet of elevation gain (my running watch came in handy for tracking such stats). After the bumpy ride back to Venilale, we ate and rested our tired bodies in preparation for the next day when we planned to walk to the hot springs and a waterfall (another perhaps two and half hour walk) with another volunteer who was coming to town.

Now when I see Mundu Perididu looming in the distance each day, I can say that I stood at the summit — the lost world hidden in the clouds

Obrigadu,

Andy

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Disclaimer: The views expressed in this newsletter are my own and in no way represent the views of the Peace Corps nor the U.S. Government.