It began with a project I had been working on piece by piece since late December, a small step that gradually led me to Tokyo. Yet, upon arriving, I realized this was not merely a business trip. It was about a long-awaited reunion, about family, and about a mission that had finally found its momentum.
It all started with wonderful news—our daughter was granted an opportunity to study Japanese language and culture for three months.
As a parent, the decision was immediate and clear: I had to accompany her.
We departed on the night of April 14, transited in Singapore, and landed at Haneda the following morning. Our first few days were spent in Gunma at a serene retreat—Ryumeikan Sawatari. The atmosphere there felt like a brief pause, a moment to breathe before I stepped back into the rhythm of my next responsibilities.
Ryumeikan, Traditional inn, Sawatari GunmaOn April 19, the moment arrived.
I said my goodbyes. It was not just a temporary parting, but also the handing over of a new chapter in our daughter's life. From there, I continued my journey to Tokyo—this time as a professional carrying a trusted mission.
Monday morning in Fujimi, Chiyoda-ku.
I arrived early—about twenty minutes before the appointed time—in front of the Embassy of Timor-Leste. The main doors were still closed. Reluctant to simply wait outside, I entered through the garage access.
A small decision that unexpectedly brought a touch of drama.
Shortly after, a Japanese police officer arrived on a routine patrol. Within seconds, my mind began to race: Did I look suspicious? Was this going to be an issue?
Fortunately, the tension was short-lived.
With the characteristic Japanese blend of discipline and friendliness, the officer greeted me politely. The once-tense situation instantly dissolved. Not long after, the doors opened—Ms. Faviola welcomed me with a warm smile.
Though it was our very first time meeting in person, it felt as though we had known each other for years.
From plans that never materialized in Bali, Dili, or Jakarta—finally brought together in Tokyo.Inside the room, the Ambassador—H.E. Maria Terezinha da Silva Viegas—welcomed me with a phrase that instantly tied all the pieces of the story together:
“Our plans to meet in Bali fell through, it didn't happen in Dili, nor in Jakarta. As it turns out, we finally truly meet here, in Tokyo.”
Those words were more than a mere greeting; they felt like the resolution of a long wait.
My memory instantly drifted back to Dili in 2015. At that time, she was serving as the Secretary of State, and we discussed things quite often—as I was compiling her biography. We tried to arrange follow-up meetings several times, but they were always postponed.
And yet, it was ultimately in Tokyo—far from Dili, far from Jakarta—that the meeting took place.
Complete. In perfect timing.
With Madame AmbassadorThe meeting was warm, yet remained intensely focused.
Also present was Mr. Célio Moniz as Counsellor, along with the Embassy team: Ms. Faviola Henriques da Cruz, Mr. João Mendonça, and Ms. Ana Catarina. The discussion flowed seamlessly—neither rigid nor overly formal, yet highly productive.
When we moved to the main agenda—the Embassy website—I chose to be completely honest from the start.
I noted that the live website did not yet entirely "belong to them." There was still room for alignment.
And that was where the discussion truly came alive.
The Ambassador shared a fascinating vision: she wanted the website to possess a "soul" akin to Japan—orderly, disciplined, systematic, and clear in its communication.
Not just informative, but reflective of character.
Together, we began to deconstruct it. From defining the separate roles of social media and the website, to figuring out how to present a stronger narrative—including the stories of Japanese investors in Timor-Leste.
At that moment, I realized: this was no longer just a digital project. This was diplomacy.
After the discussion concluded, we shared lunch together.
It was then that the atmosphere transformed completely—becoming lighter, more personal, more "human."
What left the deepest impression was not the topics of conversation, but the language itself.
Throughout the day, we spoke in Indonesian.
In the heart of modern, fast-paced Tokyo, that language served as a simple yet powerful anchor. It carried memories, history, and a sense of closeness that cannot be articulated through data or formal diplomacy.
There was an undeniable warmth in the room.
As if the distance between nations had suddenly become irrelevant.
When the time came to say goodbye, I stepped out of the Embassy gates with a completely different feeling.
Not just because the job was done.
But because this journey gave me far more than I had anticipated.
I had arrived with a checklist of tasks. I left with a profound sense of fulfillment.
It was about a connection that finally happened, about trust being forged, and about how a website—seemingly technical on the surface—is actually the face, the voice, and the heart of a nation.
On the other hand, I also left a piece of my heart in Gunma—with our daughter, who is now beginning a journey entirely her own.
And perhaps, that is where the meaning of this journey becomes whole:
That life is not about choosing between family or work. It is about how both can walk hand in hand, strengthening one another, and ultimately—weaving a story truly worth remembering.
