Just before we left, Jean said, 'You know what else? Falintil is here. They're not armed, but they're keeping an eye on things. Can you spot them?' I peered among the hill people, and thought that perhaps I could: an older man with an air of authority; a young man with a vigilant look about him, moving from group to group, appearing to direct and advise the other voters. I couldn't be sure. But that was Falintil, after all: never wholly present nor completely absent, a sense of reassurance rather than a physical force: something watching over you.