Chris McCall at Mota Ain, the Timor border – Torn between tears and smiles, the refugees line up with all their worldly goods and wait to go home. Some are even bringing their dead.

Waiting to cross the frontier to his native East Timor, Mateas Soares has little to say except that he has to go home. "It is my place of birth. I have to go back," said the father of four.

It is the most common answer among these few hundred weary people. They had fled East Timor amid the chaos and killing that followed the 1999 referendum on independence for the Indonesian-occupied territory, and still feel a strong bond to their native land.

Clutching small wads of US dollar notes handed out by Indonesian officials before they leave, they have their photographs taken and then wait beside the small convoy of yellow trucks which will take them back to East Timor.

Mr Soares, 34, is heading to Manututo, the home town that he shares with President-elect Xanana Gusmao. He remembers when Mr Gusmao studied at a local seminary and is glad he will be East Timor's first president. "He is a struggler," he said.

Mr Gusmao's constant push for reconciliation and visits to West Timor have made him a hero even to many of those who opposed independence.

A line of perhaps 20 trucks is waiting ahead of the group to cross the border, all loaded with the returnees' entire belongings. These often include the remains of the houses they lived in during their two years in squalid West Timor refugee camps. They are allowed to dismantle the buildings and retain the materials to construct new homes back in East Timor.

When the UN military observers monitoring the operation get the okay, the convoy makes its way slowly over a few dozen metres of "no-man's land".

But the border region is very different to the tension-filled place it was in late 1999. Customs and immigration posts have been set up on both sides, and only those with passports or equivalent documents are allowed to go through.

Perhaps 200 to 300 people will cross the border today, the latest in a steady stream of returnees from the dilapidated camps in West Timor that Indonesia wants to close. At the current rate of return, many of the camps might be empty within a few months. Many refugees are rushing to beat the deadline next Monday, East Timor's independence day. After that, Indonesia will not consider them as refugees, but as ordinary Indonesian citizens.

The returnees are searched several times for weapons, at least twice on the Indonesian side and once on the East Timor side. As their belongings are unloaded from the trucks at Batugade, they are also searched.

There, the workers of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees hand out food and blankets, and check their identities again. Some may spend the night there, awaiting new trucks to take them home. Many of the men are interviewed for "security assessment". Local administrations are notified about those considered potential risks, for example, because they joined the anti-independence militia.

One elderly man is bringing the body of his 12-year-old son, who died of malaria in 2000. Jefrino Moises says he will bury his son, Januario, again in his home village of Balibo, where he will resume his old life as a farmer. He says he does not care whether his house is still standing. He has friends and relatives in Balibo. It is his home. With his wife and three remaining children, he is going to farm his land again.