Progress is a good thing in Timor, but I sometimes think that moving forward slowly is the right way to go. Last night some workmen came and tried to fix the road of the street I live on. I say tried because they didn’t do a very good job of it.

It was about 9 pm and they covered about a third of the road with tarmac. Bear in mind that it was also raining and extremely humid. After the workmen had finished they drove off somewhere. I sat on the side of the street with about five other guys.

We watched as cars and motorbikes approached the stretch of sticky road. By the time the drivers realized what was happening, it was too late and they were hurtling over freshly laid tarmac. The motorbikes had a difficult time slowing down without sliding all over the place. Sure enough, within about half an hour, one of the bikes lost its back wheel and the rider and passenger slammed into the road.

The workmen eventually came back and put a sign in the middle of the road. Of course, they put it right in front of where the tarmac started, which didn’t help much because the street is poorly lit.

It wasn’t long before someone moved the sign to the side of the road. Occasionally we heard a motorbike ripping up the road, so we waved at the rider to slow down. A UN 4×4 slowed down next to us. An African dude rolled down the passenger window and, in a perfect British accent, asked, “Excuse me. Can we pass through?” We told him he’d be fine if he drove slowly.

It was quiet for a few minutes and then a UN pickup truck screamed along the road, as UN vehicles usually do. There weren’t any more accidents, but there were some close calls and we sat there until past 1 am.

This morning I walked down the street and saw that the road looked just as bad as it did without the tarmac. It was covered in cracks and holes and people were walking, driving, cycling and riding all over it. I think there was also a half-hearted attempt at painting road markings going on.

But this is progress.