90 Australian GeographicI
’VE KNOWN PATRICK for several years and he’s helped me
understand the complexities surrounding the past, present and
future of Timor-Leste. Once, at AJAR’s Learning Centre in
Bali, he showed me grainy video footage of an unforgettable
night at the UN compound in Dili, the Timor-Leste capital.
More than 2000 Timorese, mostly women and children, had
f led murderous attacks by militia and were headed for what
they believed to be the safety of the UN compound. But, because
of the uncontrolled violence, UN staff had been ordered to
evacuate next morning by air. Patrick was tasked with telling
the terrified refugees, who justifiably believed they would be
massacred. Distraught staff asked Patrick to plead with the mis-
sion head, Ian Martin, who agreed to change the evacuation
order, eventually f lying all 2000 refugees safely to Darwin. A
video filmed just after the original evacuation order had been
rescinded shows Patrick leading the refugees in song. To his
right a teenage girl claps her hands and sways as tears stream
down her face. That girl, Francisca Maia, is now an award-win-
ning writer and director whose short films Letter to my Mom,
Decision, and Messenger illuminate different aspects of growing up
in a war-torn country.Now 37 and a new mum herself, Francisca tells me, as we
walk on the beach near her home, about that night at the UN.
The giant Cristo Rei of Dili statue towers on the headland in
the distance. “I’d been working as an interpreter for World
Vision all day but late in the afternoon we were told there had
been attacks...and we should go to the compound for protec-
tion,” she says. “Then the news came that the UN was going
to leave. The refugees were panicking and grabbing their chil-
dren to run for the mountains to hide, but I decided to stay. I
didn’t know where my family was; my boss had already f led; I
didn’t know what to do. I could be dead by the morning. But
I sat down and started singing with Patrick, and I began to feel
we would be okay.”
Francisca is part of what’s sometimes called Generation 99,
the millennials whose lives have been shaped by the violence
and deprivation they were born into. Francisca wants the truth
about what happened in Timor-Leste during Indonesian occu-
pation, and what has happened since, to be known. “Even as a
young kid, I remember watching the Indonesian TV news and
comparing it with...what was happening all around us, and it
wasn’t the same,” she says. “I wanted to scream, ‘You areMore than 2000 Timorese, mostly
women and children, had fled
murderous attacks by militia. Filmmaker Francisca Maia is one of the brightest stars of
Timor-Leste’s so-called Generation 99, which is now steering the
young country towards a brighter future.Filmmaker Shaun Cairns (at le )
and the author, Phil Jarratt (at right)
with former Timor-Leste president
Dr José Ramos-Horta, in 2017.Dressed in traditional garb, these women of Maubisse play
ceremonial gongs on Independence Day, 28 November.PHOTO CREDITS, CLOCKWISE FROM LEFT: PATRICK BURGESS; SHAUN CAIRNS; PHIL JARRATT