It is twilight. I am sitting in an outdoor restaurant in Becora, Dili, with several East Timorese youths, listening to local songs played by one of the teenage boys. The neighbouring children sit cross-legged in the grass around us, singing along with the guitar. They sing traditional Timorese songs in Tetun. Not knowing the words, I beat the table and cups with a spoon, as if playing drums.
Children play soccer on the footpath.
The heat of the day over, pedestrians stroll along the side of the road, the women arm in arm. Suddenly, the the evening is shattered by a piercing shriek. The crowd on the road and path suddenly thickens. The teenaged boy in our group throws down the guitar and rushes up to the road. The children run after him.