Xanana, my friend We

FIRST, the figure Xanana Gusmao, who always wears a hat like a beret revive the aura of Ernesto Guevara at the end of the 20th century. But, the difference, Che revolutionized several countries in South America rather than their own homeland, Argentina. Xanana just wanted to liberate his home course, Timor Loro Sae.

Legal happen to have a friend who had a prison with Xanana at Cipinang prison. At that time the leaders of Timor’s independence movement was captured and put in a cell. Terjeblos being our friend inadvertently result in the wrong place and time during the bloody events of July 27, 1996 at Jalan Diponegoro, Jakarta.

Our friend, on his own consciousness, ask for jail. Not get caught like Xanana case.

Because, he says, he just felt tired. Previously, almost a full day, our friend dikelilingkan a broker cases to seven times revolve round the most famous buildings in the capital. Do not know exactly about his guilt: a clear according to his confession, he finished a fight with an attacker who wanted to destroy a political party office in an incident later famous with the acronym: Kudatuli.

People who mengelilingkannya asked whether he had money. If not, diancamnya go to jail. “Never mind,” said the friend was, “I go alone.”

In jail, he knew the figure Xanana. “Apparently he likes to wear the hat and almost every evening a football referee,” he remarked with a laugh.

Earlier our friend swears she has never heard the exact ingenuity Gusmao. Until the end he knew Xanana expertly dodged organize guerrilla warfare tactics in the wilderness of the siege army of pursuers who are trained specifically to fight clandestine and armed separatist subdue.

Now, almost twenty years passed. Xanana Gusmao, after the resignation of the chair of President of the Republic of East Timor, came again to the former homeland. He obeyed the President of the United States diplomatic trail, Barack Obama, will deliver a public lecture on the stage honored a famous campus in Depok there.

While we are still diligently sifting his profession as a journalist for a local newspaper in a provincial capital in Sumatra Island. He had forgotten about the former football referee, first.

From both of them, Xanana and friends, we may hear stories serene about the cramped space, a dimly lit haunted in the night, shining lights dim array. Crowded sleeping like salted fish in between menguapnya odor clogged toilet.

In Cipinang, in a cell, it is there place. Where they had lived together as a prisoner.

Xanana story, which finally recognized our friend, it really never happened in this country. The occurrence at one time in the distant past when a single line of authority was just wearing an iron hand and wearing boots trampling on almost everything: freedom of speech and human rights, and even revoke the right to life of human lives.
by Arpan Rachman


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