Back to the Land of the Expected

Reaching Port Moresby from New Ireland was already a major gear change. To accentuate it still further we negotiated with a hotel bus driver to take us to Airways Hotel (who no longer provide a shuttle service to anyone but their own guests) and we passed our transit hours happily gorging at their buffet breakfast and souvenir shop.

I was sad to say goodbye to my Madang friends as they left for their flight. I have met some amazing people during my time here. I headed over to international and that limbo land of half leaving the country. The airport lounge came as a shock to the system. There were just so many white people! And they looked so unhealthy. Pale and overweight and a bit loud.

Despite a few hiccups with a rejected take-off, a closed check-in and some visa problems, I eventually made it back to Townsville to be met by some friends who drove me home in an open top car. Smooth roads and a car you didn’t have to lock all the doors and windows of! I saw more naked flesh on display in the ten minutes along the city beach than I had seen in the last ten weeks. It seemed wrong.

We stopped to pick up Indian take away en route (ah, the luxury!) and as we waited for it, we had a drink at the next door bar. A decent red by the glass! I was very excited. I was nervous about leaving the car with my suitcase sitting in the open back seat even to sit 2 metres away but was rightly laughed at by my mates and reminded that I no longer had to worry about security so much. My dog was very happy to see me, my house is in great nick and my own bed felt like I was sleeping in cotton wool clouds. Most exciting of all… this morning I walked to the shop. On my own! Walking! On a street! It is a great thing, and I will try to hang onto this new appreciation of how precious personal freedom is, and that it is not something to be taken lightly or for granted.

So now I am back in the land where things work. I like it, but I appreciate the other freedoms of Papua New Guinea and I expect I will return there to the Land of the Unexpected when I can.
Thanks for following my blog; I hope you enjoyed my journey as I have.

PS. I decided that I would leave a part of my 'sole/soul' behind in PNG by joining in the national sport on the street outside Sarah's house ....it was great fun getting my runners up there!!!

Island retreat and breakfast with hornbills

From East New Britain we travelled on to New Ireland a day later than planned due to a flight cancellation (which we found out on reaching the airport… no SMS alerts here!) After a short drive through Kavieng town we were taken by boat to our island retreat. No floor in the restaurant, just sand. No locks on the doors, no full names, no worries. Hornbills, cockatoos and the first well fed dogs I’d seen in PNG just wondering around mixing happily with the humans. Hammocks strung around through the trees, and traditional wooden thatched huts. Beautiful.

Chilli mud crabs, proper latte, and the most extensive cocktail list in the Pacific were icing on the already very tasty cake.

It hurt to get up at 4.30 to leave and come back to reality, but the compensation was the boat ride across to the airport, with our way lit only by the moon and the stars as we sped past silent groves of coconut palms.

I will return there one day inshallah, and next time for longer than a day.

Dukduks, dolphins and dancing

I was very sad to say goodbye to Madang. It is a great place and I have enjoyed my time here immensely. If you have to leave though, then not a bad way to do it is to pop into Rabaul on the island of East New Britain, and then Nusa Lik island in New Ireland on the way home. They are off to the north of the PNG mainland, heading towards the Solomons and they are quite incredible. There is very little tourism yet they offer amazing landscapes, culture and wildlife.

Fo ur of us (fourpela white meris from Madang) headed off to ENB via Port Moresby. Having lunch at the Gateway Hotel near POM airport en route was very exciting for us and we revelled in the simple pleasures of a decent Caesar salad, a laksa and some reasonable coffee, and as soon as we hit Kokopo in East New Britain we knew we were going to like it. It definitely felt safer than Madang, and actually had a functioning provincial government which delivered roads without potholes, an absence of betelnut spit stains on the ground, some decently maintained buildings, and a market that was organised into different sections with signposts – amazing after the shemozzle of Madang!



We stayed in Kokopo, a pretty recently developed town which grew rapidly when nearby Rabaul was devastated in the mid 90s by the dual explosions of Tavurvur and Vulcan volcanoes on opposite sides of the bay. Vulcan erupted for ‘only’ a month, and that side of town is coming back to life, but the main old town was and continues to be subjected to ash from Tavurvur (‘the big stink’) which steams almost constantly, and last spewed out acidic ash on the town as recently as 3 weeks ago. It is a stunning place, but eerie to see the remains of the buildings which collapsed under the weight of the ash (the Rabaul Hotel is still operating and is one of the few buildings saved thanks to the efforts of its staff who swept the ash off its roofs for days). The vault of what used to be the main bank also remains; its reinforced walls an enduring advert to somebody’s construction skills. The forests of dead trees, black dirt and smoking mountain are in stark contrast to the busy harbour where boats from around the world still dock with their goods or to launch their goldmining expeditions.


We hired a boat and sailed to the base of Tavurvur. The trip was a delight – I have never seen so many dolphins, dozens and dozens of them around our boat in every direction, then the looming presence of the volcano belching clouds of white smoke, steaming water and bubbling beach; local islanders harvesting megapode eggs in deep hand-dug sand trenches which could collapse in on them at any moment (there are frequent deaths as the holes collapse and the men are buried alive); red sea water; Japanese tunnels and abandoned artillery on the beaches of smooth black sand. And not another tourist around.




As our boat pushed off the shore where the men collect the megapode eggs, one of them climbed up high then mimed a dukduk dance, and shook his stick at us while making high-pitched shrieks and laughing. It was brilliant.


Two of our number, plus Henry our guide climbed halfway up the volcano until they had to turn back (they had reached a hot spot and it was getting quite dangerous), whereas Liz and I decided a quarter of the way up was enough for us in our bare feet. Soft ash is pretty hard to climb it turns out…


Another ENB highlight was the dukduk dancers we twice encountered on the streets by chance, the iconic grass-suited, conical-masked representations of the Dukduk God: after a few days there I started to ‘see’ them myself in the shapes of the local trees.
East New Britain and New Ireland both still use shell money in addition to paper currency and there is even a bank where you can exchange your shells for Kina. It feels a world away from Moresby’s bustle.

Getting to 'Go Pinis' Time

It is 4 am and I am awake and listening to the roosters crow. It has been much quieter living here in Kalibobo these last few weeks compared to on campus with the roaming packs of howling dogs, the occasional herds of drunken students fighting or carousing, and the flocks of flying foxes screeching.
I don’t think it was the kakaruks that woke me here... more likely the prospect of having to be up early to see somebody off on the early flight. I am just going along in the car as an extra body for added safety as the airport road can be a bit dodgy in the early mornings. I will be interested to see how the personal safety aspect strikes me when I am back in Australia next week; I have taken it for granted for so much of my life that I have great freedom to roam and be mainly safe, and yet after the initial bumps of the transition, I have settled very quickly into a general acceptance of the restrictions placed on me (or which I choose to place on myself) here to stay safe. After a few days in Port Moresby where crime levels appeared to be much higher (the awareness and concern certainly are and it seems there is a correlation between the fear and the reality), I actually came back to Madang with a sense of its relative safety which shows just how far my standards have changed since my arrival 2 months ago.
The list of ‘basics’ I had become complacent about in Australia is long and varied: well paved roads, car insurance, cheese in the shops, coriander and haloumi, decent red wine, ATMs that work, high-speed internet connections and reliable electricity and water supply, on-line transactions, phone calls that get through, just generally stuff working, the absence of malaria, freedom to walk alone, no need for security guards at home, leaving doors unlocked, healthy eating out options, and last but not least good healthcare.
My list of the positives about PNG are many : the smiles and easy friendliness of the people, the beauty of the environment, tasty organic fruit and veg sold by the people who grew it at markets where you can taste and touch and talk and smell, amazing cultural variety and the richness of the interplay between the different groups, the sense of humour and readiness to laugh of many people and the expressiveness of Tokpisin. These are all obvious. Less overt but just as seductive are the sense of flexibility everyone needs to cope with the unexpected nature of life here, not to mention the fun you can have dodging potholes in the road, the recognition that people need to work together to survive and surmount all the obstacles to daily life and a healthy disregard for the imperatives of email communication and time management in general.

The video here shows some of the students from the Western Highlands province marching at the recent Culture Day. Today is the first day that the upload has worked!

Culture Day Continued

There were too many amazing sights at the cultural day to do it justice with pics from my Blackberry, but unfortunately my camera has carked it so I hope these at least give you a flavour.

I am currently in pack-up mode, with this being my last week in the Land of the Unexpected.... after 2 months which have gone unexpectedly quickly!

Busy bee!

It has been some time since my last post… a result of either being busy or a lack of internet access when not. In the interim, I have been stung by a swarm of killer bees, moved house, had two separate visits from JCU colleagues, spent a few days in the capital, Port Moresby, and attended a cultural show so I am not short on material!


First the bee swarm! Ok, so I only copped 6 stings, and maybe they weren’t killers…. But they were nasty and made me a bit sick… A group of us hiked to Nobnob, setting out from the local village of Benik with some local friends and guides along the track through thick bush. Sam, the owner of much of the land led the way, slashing through obstacles with his big bush knife. In most cases this was exactly what was required but at one point he inadvertently sliced open the home of a bunch of bush bees who were none too happy and proceeded to make their displeasure known to those of us within reach. My language was a bit fruity for a while but I decided I had to at least pretend to be a brave wee soldier when the wee kid with us stopped crying about her stings… but it was a beautiful hike and a wonderful day out, topped off by Sam shinning up a coconut tree at the end to cut down some for us to drink, then casually catching some freshwater crabs for tea!

Last weekend saw me move out of my on-campus accommodations and into hotels while my boss was visiting and I was back as a JCU staff member, which was easy to fall back into, but a little strange to have the two worlds collide. It also showed me that I have clearly moved into ‘PNG time!’
The trip to POM was interesting - after a disturbed night of Lariam-induced insomnia, nightmares, and general bee-bite malaise, it was off at 5.30 am to the airport for the short shuttle flight which should have seen us land at Moresby and have time for a freshen up before our first meeting in town at 11 am. Nobody told Air Niugini that was our plan Our plane was there and was in working order but it had to make an unscheduled side trip to Wewak first before coming back to pick us up. Checking in was interesting as a blackout meant the only light available was from the headlights of a car strategically placed next to the check in counters where we received our handwritten boarding passes. The lack of fans and AC wasn’t too bad until the sun came up when it started getting hot. There was a lounge to wait in but coffee was out of course as there was no power. So it was about 6 hours into the day before we got our first coffee and any food other than a biscuit! After 2 months in Madang, POM was a revelation… it felt like the big city, and I felt like a country hick in my crumpled clothes and toting my billum (which I have since found out I should not have worn in POM as potential thieves can see through the weave to your contents and be tempted.

The time in POM was great, and I enjoyed the luxuries on offer there, such as coffee that didn’t come from a plunger, cheese, a hot stone massage (seriously, it was great!) and drinkable red wine by the glass, not to mention a mattress in my bed a good ten times thicker than I had become accustomed to. The level of unease about crime was considerably higher there than Madang though, and in just 4 days there I encountered one person who had just been held up, and heard of two people working for an AusAID managing contractor I visited who had been car-jacked that day. A staff member of that firm picked me up the next day and had to radio in his whereabouts to their security firm on leaving and arriving at every destination, and even my driver, Yoba could not get home to his settlement safely after around 9 pm. When I came back to Madang it felt like my ‘liklik home’ but also like a breath of fresh air as the sense of surrounding menace dropped dramatically. It must have a psychological impact on people to live with that level of tension constantly, like being in a war zone.

Divine Word University was also host to a wonderful event a few days ago, a cultural show where the students and staff showcased their costumes, songs and dance from their local areas all over PNG. The results were incredible!

I used to care but... things have changed

I stole that title from a great Bob Dylan song.... it sums up perfectly how I felt when my hair straighteners exploded yesterday. I had forgotten to bring a hairdryer with me (too used to there always being one in the nice hotels I usually stay in) but that was alright as I was actually enjoying letting it all hang out ... going a bit wild and hairy! However, I did like the presence of the straighteners, the fact that a couple of times a week I would choose to put in a bit more of an effort if I wished. Anyway, poof! All gone in a wee cloud of smoke, and the best part is I don't care!

I am however intending to hit Kalibobo, Madang's main (only?) clothes emporium. I keep complimenting women on their clothes, only to get the answer, "Kalibobo... 20 toea!" or about 8 cents. Apparently one woman from Canada recently bought a beautiful wedding dress there on the off chance she might ever need it at a snip for under $1. I have decided I am sick of living out of a suitcase after 6 weeks, especially given that my choice of suitably modest clothing was relatively slim pickings in the first place.

This week is an interesting case of worlds colliding as we have had two JCU researchers on campus (though they are currently living in Moresby so I am not sure that counts) and next week will see visits by our DVC and Dean of Research. I had forgotten these researchers were coming this week and got a pleasant surprise when I turned round at morning tea and copped an eyeful of JCU shirts, but it was very nice to catch up with some of my 'wantoks' (though I am using the phrase very loosely as they don't really speak like me!)

Well, tonight I am heading out to a Chinese restaurant. This time I believe it is a proper restaurant but I will let you know!

This little piggy

I went to Pig Island yesterday for the first time and I wish I hadn't left it so long. It is stunning. Apparently it used to be a leper colony and they shipped a bunch of pigs out there for the lepers to live off. If you have to get exiled somewhere, there would be many worse places in the world.

Interestingly, getting from Madang to any of the surrounding islands is an easier task than getting around in town. We just went down to the wharf near the resort and took a PMV (a public boat) after negotiating a price to take the 6 of us out there (about $10 one way) and for them to come and collect us later.

The engine on our boat only cut out once on the way and once on the way back, but our happy drivers weren't phased in the slightest and we just bobbed pleasantly around for a while till they managed to get it going again.

It is a beautiful feeling to get taken out over clear blue waters to a pristine island and be dropped off with the expectation and hope that your ride home will show up later. We agreed they would come back at 3 pm, and fully expected to be there until maybe 4 pm, so we were actually very disappointed when they showed up bang on time. A rare and in this case unwelcome occurrence!

Still, we had enough time to lie on the beach, explore the island, swim, and have a picnic.

The only excitement came when Liz reported that she has been snorkelling with Bruno but he had disappeared. Sarah, Liz and I went off to see if we could find him and we came across a smouldering fire... leading to all sorts of wild, Lord of the Flies-type speculation about whether we might find his rotting head on a stick....

Thankfully he appeared unscathed, as we all went to great personal trouble searching for him by swimming around in the crystal clear waters, searching for fish (oops, no for Brunos!) Though I did cop a rather nasty coral scratch in the process of the search - good thing I'm not litigious! ;)

This was the rather terrible view I had for my siesta....... I hope you are all feeling suitably sorry for me...

Freedom!

I will never forget the feeling when Leonie handed me the set of car keys this morning. 'What are they for?' I asked stupidly. 'For you, to drive yourself into town... you can have the car for the morning.'




I am not sure winning a million bucks on the lottery could taste as sweet! I didn't need to be offered twice. So for the first time since arriving here 6 weeks ago, I left the gates of the campus under my own steam, at a time of my own choosing and at my own pace. Now here was a luxury I had not previously known was anything other than a basic staple. As I drove down the road, weaving my way around the potholes in my wee grey Toyota, I had to remind myself to stop singing to myself and to concentrate on the road conditions.


It felt fabulous to be driving again, to have the sensation of being in control. My first stop was the Air Niugini office to book and change some flights. I found it relatively easily from the directions, "It's right in town, you can't miss it," and so it was. However, given that I was keeping an eye out for its location, watching out for holes in the road, milling traffic and pedestrians perhaps it is no surprise I missed the discreet "No entry' sign and attempted to drive the wrong way up its one way street. Everyone was very relaxed about it though - no signs of road rage at daft mistakes like that here!

Mission accomplished, I left the office only about an hour later, with flights to Rabaul and Kavieng in East New Britain and New Ireland respectively booked for a long weekend at the end of my stay. Given my own ethnic background, it occurred to me there were the makings of a good joke in there somewhere.....


I don't know whether it was just my new found sense of freedom shining through, or whether my being on my own made the sellers at the market even friendlier than usual, but today for the first time I was being offered tastes of their wares and tips on how to cook some of the veggies new to me... white carrots!? - (you fry them apparently). I was on a positive high as I tripped around the supermarket too, inured to the absence of all and any cheese, rapt at the presence of yoghurt. Oh, and did I mention that my shiny new tin opener purchased last week does not work? I am starting to suspect that in a nation which loves its bush knives, a namby pamby wee opener may be seen as verging on the softer side of wussy, hence the country-wide conspiracy to sell only faulty devices....



So after a fine drive home along the coastal road by the sparkling sea, I reluctantly had to relinquish the car keys. I did make a point of pointedly pointing out that if the car were to become available again at any point, I would be happy to look after it on behalf of the university again, out of the kindness of my heart.



Something (the begging, the tears, the threats of a hunger strike, I'm not exactly sure) must have worked, as half an hour later Leonie came to my office, and without a word, but with a huge smile, handed me the keys (to the kingdom!). The shiny grey charger is mine now for the next 2 weeks, mine... all mine, mwahahahahah!!!!

I took it for a spin this evening down to the Lodge and even picked up a similarly isolated friend. So there were two types of joy for me today: one was being able to catch up with friends this evening, but the other, more unexpected pleasure was in being out on my own out in the world again. Aaaah, freedom!

All shook up

A friend of mine who was caught up in the Boxing Day tsunami wins hands down as she was literally able to say the earth moved for her while she was on her honeymoon, but despite the much more prosaic circumstances in this case, yesterday's earthquake still shook me up!

PNG is located in the Pacific 'Ring of Fire' zone, and earthquakes are common but today's was quite a biggie at 6.4, and the epicentre was only 110km from Madang, though more than 200km deep down under the sea. It surprised me to find out just how common they are, with more than 250 earthquakes recorded worldwide in the last week alone: http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/recenteqsww/

I was sitting in my office when things just started shaking: I could feel the movement through the desk, through the floor, and it just kept coming in waves, and set the big wooden bookcase wobbling and looking like it might topple. What I find most interesting is just how long it took me to turn the sensation of the earth shaking into the articulated thought, 'It's an earthquake'. It was almost like my brain kept taking wrong turns time and again, looking for alternative explanations - it just couldn't compute that the ground was moving beneath me.

Irene, my office mate and I just looked at each other and she said something about it being a really big one. That was when I realised I didn't know whether it was best to stay indoors (yes, luckily as that's what I did) or go outside. I had just missed a big quake last May, flying out of Bogota a few hours before it hit (it was 5.7 and there were some fatalities) and I had been very pleased to have missed it. I don't know if you get people rushing towards quakes in the same way you see nutters with camcorders rushing headlong into tornadoes, but it certainly holds no appeal for me, one is more than enough.

It was quite funny really... both Irene and I just carried on working and didn't even talk about it, and then on the way across campus heading home everything seemed completely normal, as indeed it was. The only difference was that now I was watching where the overhead powerlines and other dangerous objects were so I could try to take evasive action should there be another one.

An earthquake in Tok Pisin is apparently a 'guria'. Somehow I knew there would be a word for it;-)

Sunday Inactivity Blues

Well after Friday night's dramas I was ready for the more laid back pursuit of netball though I was wondering how I would get on playing 2 full games in the heat. Luckily though, that proved to be a redundant worry as I only got on as a sub for one of the 8 quarters. I am happy to say though that the team won both games so we are well positioned for the upcoming knockout rounds. This time I came prepared with a book, and squeezed in a wee siesta so the 5 hours just zipped past!

Still on a related subject, I am a big fan of PNG's national sport which I assume is sponsored by a multinational such as ADIDAS or Reebok, given the prevalence of artistically placed runners hanging from overhead powerlines. I might have to give that a go before I leave!

Saturday night saw my first ever house party in

Madang - a 'go -finish' party for someone leaving to go

back to Australia. It was an eclectic mix of mainly ex-pats,
some with 30 years here under their belts and others just arrived this week. Among them were helicopter pilots and mechanics, retired librarians, medical researchers, uni academics, a doctor, and a writer/photographer - so a really interesting mixture. I am learning that social events end early here though, as the people with cars usually want to leave by midnight and everyone else has to leave with them.


Today was another reminder of the lack of options here if you don't have your own car. I am assuming everyone I know was tired today after the party but for whatever reason, nobody was doing much which meant by definition that I also wasn't doing much. This may well have been fine, but when inactivity is imposed rather than chosen it can be rather hard to swallow.



PS - the poor security guard of 'biscuit-fighting and singing' fame has recently been having his bottles of water pinched out of the freezer at his new employer's place.... watch this space for his next adventures!



PPS - Bruno informed me earlier that he has found another new Chinese restaurant... might have to see if this one is any better!! :-)

Bruno's Birthday: a near miss and a 'Chinese restaurant'

Today started quite mundanely.... I had a lift down to the gym early with Judy, who then kindly took me into town to a couple of shops I hadn't been to before. Great excitement as I finally managed to source a tin opener, some kitchen cloths and some sultanas. I really was ecstatic and isn't that just a sign of how little time is needed to re-set your expectations.

Tonight promised to be something a little special... Madang is home to only a handful of restaurants, almost all of which are located within the compound of some larger body such as the Lodge, the Club or the Resort, but for Bruno's birthday we had chosen, and even booked... to go to the new Chinese restaurant in the heart of town. We were actually congratulating ourselves jokingly on being 'scene-setters' by checking out this brand new place that most people hadn't even heard of. Getting there was interesting as usual, given that there were 6 of us squishing into a car built for 4 or 5 but that was fine. At least it was fine, until we were heading along the main road in the dark and I noticed that there were two sets of headlights rather than one coming towards us. Thankfully I screamed, as that gave Sarah enough notice to swerve off the road and avoid the oncoming, speeding bus: by a whisker. If you know me, you know that I have already been in more than enough traffic accidents for several lifetimes, so I was heartily relieved to avoid another.

So, an auspicious start! We arrived at the restaurant which didn't look that hot from the outside but you don't judge a book by its cover here, so as Sarah and Bruno (as male 'escort' for safety) went off to pick up another person nearby, the four of us trooped past the 2 guards who somewhat reluctantly (hindsight is great!) opened the metal grid gate for us.

I was first to walk in, but my view of the room was restricted by the angle of the entrance. The change in the noise level as I entered and the fact that the first man whose eyes I met immediately uttered the word, 'Sorry," did not make for a particularly promising first impression. As I turned to survey the whole space, I realised that 'restaurant' was probably an inaccurate term, and that the correct one was perhaps 'semi-legal drinking den reserved for serious crowd of hard-drinking PNG men during an official alcohol ban where only premises ostensibly serving food are licensed to also serve grog'. A snappy title, so it baffles me why the owners chose to write 'Deng Fang Restaurant' on the sign outside.

Our crocodile procession of four women (the only female customers in the whole establishment - no great shock there) walked through the increasingly raucous crowd to be led to the side room which was to serve us for the evening. We must have made quite a sight: me at the front, then two slim and slender, positively 'elphin' women, one from Malaysia, one from Melbourne, and the rear brought up by a PNG woman of presence with formidable dreadlocks. We made it through the catcalls and 'Hello darlings' and grabbing hands to reach our sanctuary... a drab, dirty, windlowless room with two wobbly tables, some plastic chairs, malfunctioning AC, a couple of filthy tablecloths, and one tiny clock as wall decoration, hung 3 metres above the ground.

As we sat wondering just how many Michelin stars the place would warrant, and fervently hoping the other three including one man (see - useful!) would show up soon.... we decided to avail ourselves of the refreshments. Did they have any wine, em... no. Any soda water? No, sorry. Any ginger beer? Ok beers all round! The service at least was excellent, as we only had to send the incorrect drinks back once, and only once did we have to call the waitress back to request that she open the non-screw top bottles for us. Her surprise at this suggested strongly that the more regular patrons use their teeth.

The others arrived soon afterwards, bringing our number to a magnificent seven which immediately felt much safer. And we had a man! After a few inquiries, it became clear that food wasn't the top item on the menu here, and in fact that nobody apart from us was likely to be eating at all, but we were reassured that the police always came by at 8 or 8.30 and would chuck everybody else out. After which of course, it would transform into the sort of establishment Gordon Ramsay would be proud to put his name to... and, even my short time here has already taught me not to feel reassured at the prospect of the police turning up.

After a couple of attempts by some of our number (not me) to put a brave face on it, we agreed to cut our losses and get out of Dodge. As we now had seven people to fit in the one car, we entertained for a (very) brief moment the idea of leaving in two shifts but quickly decided that squishing 7 in was a preferable option. Running the gauntlet to leave was also a memorable experience I have no desire to repeat. Let's just say, I know where to get a date in Madang if I need one.

So.... all of a sudden, the plastic axe I had bought Bruno as a joke for his birthday suddenly seemed prescient... just a part of the fabric of life in the Land of the Unexpected!

PS - we hid the axe on the way out of the 'restaurant' in case it was seen as an act of provocation...

The importance of men

It has been a busy and interesting week. I presented to the Health Sciences faculty on my project and sat in on the whole of their faculty meeting. It was fascinating to watch the similar dynamics played out as at committee meetings back in Australia. I was a little surprised but pleased to see there was complete gender balance among the 20 or so people, and it was very much a local affair, with only a sprinkling of westerners and Indians among the mainly PNG nationals. I can honestly say though that I have never before attended a meeting which started with an appeal to the Lord to guide our discussions.

My Tokpisin skills are coming on slightly which is handy as all netball business, including trivial items like who plays in which position, tactics and game times is conducted in the language. I have found myself on a few occasions being able to follow the gist of a story even without quite knowing how. Saturday will be a test of my tropical conditioning though, as we have decided to squeeze two games in that afternoon.

I am already full of anticipation at my trip to Port Moresby in a few weeks as I will be staying at a hotel that has beds with actual mattresses... I attach here the evidence for the prosecution, showing my current mattress only slightly thicker than the length of a standard AA battery. I decided tonight to stop being such a big wuss about it though after talking to one of my teammates who has had 'malaria and the flu' this week but still came out to train!

An interesting aspect of the security situation here is the added value it gives to men. I suppose this is a reminder of how things used to be in most countries in the not too distant past. One night we were splitting people between two cars, both driven by women to get home after dark, and instead of allocating bodies to vehicles based on their destination, we had to ensure there was a man in each car and visible in the front seat. The idea being to make yourselves as small a target as possible. Some of the Western men here love it... one of them in particular has found a purpose in life! ;-)

Terrible view

It was a hard day... kayaking past the bobbing coconuts and the islands dotted around the bays... waving at the kids on the shore and stopping for lunch and a snorkel at a beach bar.

A Mini Kilt and a Liklik Delay

I didn't really expect to be doing yoga here, and if I had, I couldn't have imagined a more spectacular setting to do it than on the grass by the pool at Madang Lodge, right above the Bismarck Sea at dusk with a fresh sea breeze. There were only seven of us; all white, western females variously employed at the uni or other professional organisations and led in our stretches by a French Canadian VSO volunteer. Some PNG nationals were using the pool next to us and the kids seemed to find our downward dogs etc pretty funny – not surprising really given that this was only my second ever yoga class and a couple of the others seemed no more advanced than me.

The past few days have been quite peaceful with the exception of some of the dogfights through the night and the squawking flying foxes throughout the day. There was an earthquake (6.3) this week quite a way away off the island of New Ireland. There wasn't a flicker here and it didn't cause much concern, but it was nice to see that my Endeavour Awards case manager was, well, on the case! She got in touch to check I was okay before I had even heard about it.

I made it back to the beautiful resort of Jais Aben on the north coast this weekend for a swim, but the main event for me this week has been the netball. Not only has it instantly doubled my social life, but it is giving me a great insight into local culture. Today was a lesson in 'PNG time' – the coach had warned us sternly at least 5 times to make sure we were all there, warmed up and ready to go on court before the 1 o'clock start, as the other team would be there and desperate to see us forfeit. She advised us to get there at noon, or 12.30 at the very latest. Fiona who was picking me up said she would get me at 12.30. I was there at the gates and waiting as the clock ticked by…. I even started doing warm up stretches as I was waiting to the great amusement of the security rangers, then at 12.55 it got too much for me and I rang Fiona. 'Delay liklik… on my way, be there soon'. At twenty past one she showed up and 5 minutes later we were at the ground: the first members of our team to arrive. This didn't matter however as there were still a few games to happen before ours which of course everybody had anticipated. Some of our team turned up over the next hour then went away again, and when it was our turn finally half of our team was missing, including the woman with the strips. I think we finally took to the court just before 3 pm. People who know me well know that punctuality is quite a fluid concept for me, but even I am impressed at just how skilled people here are at making time flexible. I think I may need some kind of happy medium… I haven't been to Thursday Island but that could be worth checking out!

Our strips incidentally are a classic – white tops with a tartan trim and matching green tartan skirts (very similar to the Clan Lamont tartan!) On the rest of the team the skirts were quite a respectable length, but on me the effect was that I looked like I had wondered out of a rehearsal for a part in a St Trinians film…. This week I have to get myself to Kalibobos, the clothes shop in town to buy some shorts to wear underneath! I would love to report our stunning victory and the great part I played in it but unfortunately I can't…. we lost 28-34 and my offer to be subbed at half time was readily accepted! Not sure what I was expecting considering I haven't played for 4 years, and was playing out of position in the boiling heat but I was a little disappointed. Still, it was good fun and I was very impressed at the spirit the game was played in. I have never played in such a clean game in Australia!

The dreams of sporting glory will just have to go back in their box for a while! ;-)

Frangipanis and Buai

I mentioned that I love going to see a show when I'm in a foreign land as a way of connecting with people and feeling like I'm part of what is going on. I have now found an even better way which will come as no surprise to any of you who play team sports… I have joined a netball team. I am now Goal Defender for the Frangipanis ladies team, and a fine bunch of friendly women they are. Happy to have me in their midst even though I don't speak the lingo and have not played for almost 4 years. At last night's training session I actually threw the ball back to my own keeper at one point instead of forward to somebody who could attack… I just got a bit excited that I'd intercepted the ball so I forgot you then have to do something useful with it;) Still, they asked me back and I was told I would be GD (not the position I used to play) tonight for a proper game in the A grade which is a bit of a worry, but I assume everyone thinks my (considerable) height advantage is going to be sufficient compensation for my lack of ability.

So tonight I was ready and primed to take on the KC Cats. As in Australia however, sometimes people just don't turn up (though here it could be because they had no transportation)… in this case the whole team didn't show so we got the points on a forfeit but it was a bit of an anti climax. When I played netball in Australia it worked a bit differently… if the other team didn't show, people headed straight to their cars and went home to watch Desperate Housewives. Here we sat around on the playing field for the hour anyway, chatting and chewing buai or beetlenut, though with everybody occasionally making comments about having better things they could be doing. Fiona (GK) is the player who invited me on the team after I met her a couple of times last week. She has also taken on the role of chauffeur as otherwise I couldn't get to the games (twice a week) or training (also twice) so by inviting me she has put her hand up to pick me up and drop me off in the wrong direction from her home 4 times a week. I am trying to stop feeling bad about this kind of imposition and just appreciate it – still a work in progress! We even have a coach (I've never been in a team with a proper coach!) Her name is Auntie Frieda and she is a character. Last night she had the whole team in fits with a story about why she can't run at the moment. It was all in Tokpisin so I only picked up the odd bit but enough to tell she had overindulged in the 'sex on the beach' cocktails at the weekend, and on leaving the Club had taken some kind of a tumble and injured herself in the moonlight. She is also a bit of an entrepreneur; at the end of the game she opened up the boot of her car to reveal a mini tuck shop with fags and beetle nut for the adults and lollies for the kids.

Tonight I was introduced to the rites of chewing buai PNG-style. You shell the nut then chew the soft centre till it's pulpy, at which point you add the mustard stalk dipped in lime powder. That turns the gunk red and you just spit the red juices out in big squirts until it's gone. It turns your mouth scarlet and is not particularly hygienic but it is universal. It was quite pleasant but I don't think I'm at risk of becoming a long-term user.

This place is known as the Land of the Unexpected and that counts for little things like like your hot water coming out of the cold tap and vice versa, to the interesting outburst in the parliament today, when the PM, Sir Michael Somare threatened to kill one of his MP colleagues outside, 'Bai mi kilim yu autsait! Bai yu dai! Yu dai nau! ' I can't quite imagine Julia doing that somehow….

One of the joys of any developing country (and even some developed ones) is that first brush with their bureaucracy … today I had to go to the Provincial Government's Treasury Dept to pay the K1,000 (outrageous!) needed to get a receipt to send off to Port Moresby with my passport to get a visa extension for a period of just 12 days (the original 60-day visa cost just K500) – go figure. The name of the department was the grandest thing about it – it is a run-down collection of shacks, literally with holes in the roofs and plants growing off it and parts of the buildings hanging down. Groups of people milled around seemingly aimlessly, moving between badly signed counters and closed offices in a vain attempt to give or take some money. Apart from the tropical ambience it could have been a scene out of Kafka. After a few wrong turns and with the help of Terence, the uni security guard detailed to escort me and my big wad of cash, I finally made it to the right counter where there were a few people waiting already but no sign of anyone behind the desk. It was difficult to work that out though as the desk was behind a filthy pane of glass and a rusty grid of unidentifiable metal, so you had to peer and twist and shade your eyes from the sun just to see if there was any movement on the other side. The sign helpfully read, 'Office hours are _________ .' I was in a slightly better position than most as a tiny circle had been cut in the glass just at my eye height , which of course is pretty useless for 99% of the people in PNG. Still, I got my receipt and as we came out onto the main road a police car (the first I've seen) went screaming by with siren blaring and at great speed. Why? Konie summed it up with a smile… "Mebbe a hold-up… this is PNG."

If I have mastered the art of adding photos you should also see here the interesting front page of the National today, showing a gang member being paraded naked and bound through the streets of Tari in the Highlands by the local police. Just in case, here's the link http://www.thenational.com.pg/

Photos

I have been trying (unsuccessfully) to add photos to my blog so if you would like to have a look at some pics check out this link http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=222708&id=730812078&l=9254c3255d

Liklik rokroks and a snake

On Saturday I had the type of experience I have been wanting since I got here – hiking through the villages and getting to know more of the locals. We got off to a great start as we drove to the worst settlement in town, where we picked up Aita who used to be the 'house meri' or housemaid working for one of the guys we were with and who is himself well known in the settlements, so we were under both his and her 'protection' and therefore safe. Without those two it would have been a pretty risky thing to do but with them it was safe as houses. Then we drove up a dramatically potholed, bumpy track in the 4-wheel drive to the village where Aita's daughter and grandkids were waiting and we all went trekking through the hills and along (as in actually sploshing through) a river. It was fantastic. This is the stuff I love.... talking to the women, them teaching me words and phrases in Pidgin: 'liklik rokrok' or little frog = tadpoles, and a dragonfly is called an 'elicopter'.

The wee kids came with us swinging their machetes, everyone was laughing, and Aita and her daughter Joyce were taking the micky out of the men. Just a joy!!! Aita and Joyce have invited me and some of the others to go walking with them at the weekends through the villages, which is a great opportunity as we need locals to accompany us. Next week we are going to walk to the interestingly named Nob Nob mountain, which is apparently not that much of a mountain but is a great walk through the rainforest and gives wonderful views back down to the Madang coast – it is a 6 or 7-hour round trip. I am really looking forward to it though I am thinking that next time I should be a bit more careful with my precautions against insect bites as I have a rather strange and vaguely worrying bite on my thigh which is growing ever larger, has turned into a bruise and gone grey. Mmmmm! Apparently there is a good doctor in town called Dr Mackerel (sounds a bit fishy to me!) but if you need to see him you should always try to work around his drinking hours at the Club….;)

Joyce showed off to us her new garden which she had built on a steep hillside, having cut down the trees then burnt the whole area ('slash and burn'), and planted corn, bananas and tomatoes amongst other things. As we walked we came across pineapples, cocoa, rice grown in dry fields, pawpaws, sago trees and just about everything tropical you could think of. It is really rich soil, and the tropical warmth and nightly rain even in the 'dry' season make it agricultural paradise.

Another highlight on Saturday was the arrival from JCU of Sally from our Physiotherapy department who is here for a week; not only because she is a delightful lady and my new next door neighbour, but also because she got my message in time to bring me some duty free to replenish my Baileys stock. Thanks Sally!!!

After a beautiful home cooked dinner by Patricia, a lovely doctor from Manus island and Caroline from Malaysia who work at the Medical Research Institute here, including great tofu, and bananas fried with garlic (it works!) We headed home uneventfully apart from the rather large snake we ran over on the main road. Coming from Townsville though that wasn't much of a novelty!

This week should be interesting as Friday is a public holiday to mark Remembrance Day, and there is usually a large and moving ceremony down at the lighthouse which I will try to get to.

For now, lukim you samtaim!

How tall are your fingers?

That was the memorable question posed in a newspaper competition this week – it is unclear what the prize is, so perhaps just the undoubted prestige that comes from being the owner of the tallest fingers in Madang!

This week has flown past. The work side of things has gone really well and socially it's getting ridiculous – I was grateful for a quiet night in tonight after having been out most nights this week. I have also been very happy to find that I have had a lot more contact with PNG folks, partly because I have made a concerted effort on a few occasions to avoid the other foreigners, and also because for whatever reasons my social groups this week just happen to have been more integrated this week.

Tomorrow is going to be an interesting contrast: hiking through some villages in the morning, and a cocktail party at night at the Madang Club with a 'hats and hair' theme. I'm not sure whether I need a hat seeing as how I have hair, but am assuming that just the hair will be sufficient. I was at the Club the other night and it was a rather surreal experience. In almost every way it felt like being at a club in North Queensland but with a few minor details changed, as if in a dream. The traditional meat tray raffle had become a bag of roast chicken, the beer was SP, and the ethnic mix was a bit different (PNG staff and customers, Chinese owner and customers, and assorted westerners and other Asians), but the bar, the lighting, the notice boards and seating area could all have been transplanted from Innisfail.

I can notice that I am settling in now. I am far more comfortable in all situations and am interacting better with people generally; at the shop, the staff morning teas, with the students. I am finding my rhythm and working out how I can be myself in this context, and the response I am drawing from people around me is easier and even friendlier as a result. I have had a few comments from people that they like the fact I carry a billum now rather than a handbag: I suppose that is a pretty universal human response no matter where you are… everyone likes to see their own behaviour reflected back at them as a mark of respect and of validation of their own culture.

Another sign of my feeling more at home here is that I am having to think harder to find content for this blog, as things which would have struck me as noteworthy just a week ago are slowly becoming the norm. I am sure someone somewhere has done a study on this, but I definitely feel as if I am moving through this transition in clear weekly stages, starting with the first week of disorientation, then the second week of struggle and resistance, followed by this last week's acceptance. Who knows what next week will hold!

Lukim you!

The CC Conversation

I have never wanted to be an ex-pat, and I didn't want to come to PNG to hang out with other westerners. So how has it transpired that after just 2 weeks I am spending my weekends with a bunch of Aussies and assorted Europeans and North Americans? Partly it is the whole notion of visitors v locals which I think holds true everywhere, that it is easier to make friends with other people who don't have long established networks, and of course language and cultural closeness helps! Partly as well it comes down to recreation choices and affordability – the international visitors here are often young(ish), professional, relatively cashed-up, and keen to go scuba-diving and kayaking, and eat dinner at the Resort or the Club and have a drink, whereas (from my admittedly still very limited experience!) the locals in the better paid jobs are more likely to be slightly older, perhaps with children and spend their free time in more family-oriented pursuits or further study. Many of the ex-pats I have met speak Pidgin and have obviously integrated well in many aspects into the local community, are well known and well liked, but there still seems to be relatively little socialising together.

I must point out that the ex-pat group I have weaselled my way into are lovely, interesting people who have very kindly picked me up and dropped me places, advised me on how to minimise risk, and generally been amazingly helpful, and without whom I would be blubbering like a maniac into my soup right now, so this wee whinge is more a reflection of my unrealistic expectations of how much integration I could really achieve in such a short space of time, particularly not knowing the language or the culture! And I am quite simply grateful for any opportunity to get out of the house!!

My weekend was going fantastically: on Friday after work I made it down to the gym at the Lodge, then met a couple of people for dinner, then a house party on campus. Saturday was shaping up to be even better: a trip to the market and a potholed, fantastically bouncy 4-wheel drive up to the coastal resort of Jais Aben just north of Madang where we had lunch on a beautiful terrace over an inlet then just stepped off the terrace and into the sea to cool down and swim while families jumped off overhanging trees into the water. Dinner and Trivial Pursuit at somebody's house, then more in the same vein on Sunday.

The joke goes that all ex-pats here must have the Crime and Cost Conversation (CCC) each time they meet. The cost of a beer at the Lodge went up from K6 to K8 overnight ($3-$4 roughly), pure coincidence I'm sure that it happened the day the ban on alcohol take away sales came into force…. ! And as for crime… well, it does seem to come up in conversation depressingly regularly, not that that's really surprising… I came awake in the wee hours of Friday to the sound of a couple of gunshots. They weren't on campus which is very safe, but probably came from the settlement next door. Everyone just takes it in their stride and it is not worth remarking on. I got a lift the other day from someone and had to remove two bush knives (machetes) from the front seat before I could sit down!

The harder side of life here raised its head though on Saturday afternoon as three of us were driving along the beach road from town back to the uni. Ok, Mum – this is the bit where you want to stop reading till my next post! As we passed the golf club we heard screams, and looking back we saw a young, blonde woman come running from the beach onto the road. By the time we chucked a u-turn and got back to her, she had stopped screaming but was in the middle of the road, clearly in shock and telling a man in a car that she had been attacked and robbed by 3 guys who had run off with her camera, credit cards, phone and wallet. She was bleeding from where they had pushed her down onto the rocks, and later a haematoma developed where one of the men had pressed a weapon to her neck. The guy listening to her story, and the group of women standing by the roadside were all saying, 'Sorry, sorry,' a common response I have heard from every Papua New Guinean I have mentioned it to, and which I take to be embarrassment and regret that a visitor to their country has been treated so badly. Nobody stepped in to help however. People seem reluctant or scared to get involved. The woman's name was Kadi, she was a backpacker from Estonia travelling around PNG on her own. We scooped her up into the car, and after taking more experienced local advice we decided against taking her to the police as that was likely to be counter-productive, and in any case, the only chance of retrieving stolen goods comes from offering a small ransom for their return. We took her to someone's house where Nicolas who had been driving patched her up (handy that he's a doctor!), and she got on the internet and the phone to cancel her cards, etc. Very luckily for her, she still had the number of one contact in Lae, who she rang and he arranged for one of his company's helicopters to pick her up and take her there the next morning. Well, doesn't that happen to everyone!!! J

It was an awful experience for Kadi, who had only been in PNG for 4 days, and Madang for one, and possibly she had not had the right advice about what was safe and what wasn't, but for whatever reasons she was doing all the things practically guaranteed to get her into trouble – walking on her own in an area known for crime (though nobody had told her that), carrying a large and very expensive camera in full view, a top of the range mobile with all her contacts, cards and cash, and wearing pretty skimpy clothes which in this conservative country mark you very clearly as having just arrived. What happened could have been a lot worse. I am torn because I believe that everyone should have the right to walk freely and not get mugged, however in a country as poor as this it really is asking for bother to indulge in open displays of wealth. A man at the market had actually pointed out to her earlier in the day that some guys were watching her movements, but she hadn't taken the warning seriously enough. Basically, she didn't understand that there is an element in society here looking for any opportunity that presents itself, and she was ripe for the picking. I fully intend to do all I can not to make myself into an opportunity (alright Mum, you can open your eyes now but make sure you read that last sentence!)

Oh and I have realised my mistake about snacks!!! The lady in the coffee shop must have thought I was asking about 'Snax', the popular savoury biscuit. I knew there had to be a reason!!

This post is a few days later than planned because of the happy circumstance that I was out 4 nights in a row, and the minor inconvenience of not having an internet connection for the last 2 days. I had no water yesterday either but that didn't affect my blogging, just my personal hygiene!!

 

Patience is a virtue, Mama Mia!

I have realised that I am not talking much in my blog about what I am actually here for, and a couple of people have mentioned they have no idea what to say I'm doing, if asked. I suppose I should mention it at least occasionally… I am working on 2 projects, the first being a small research project looking at Divine Word University's role here in serving the broader community and it social responsibilities to help develop PNG, and comparing that with JCU and Australian universities generally. The other thing I am doing is looking at how the two universities can work together to build staff capacity in teaching and research, and hopefully to try to match that to some government funding. I find them both really interesting and they are both progressing nicely.

Ok, back to other stuff! I did manage to get a lift from Konie (third time lucky on spelling his name!) down to the Lodge yesterday at 1 o' clock. Not ideal timing as the gym isn't air-conditioned and it's a pretty constant temperature of hot and humid here, but beggars can't be choosers. I tried to pay for my membership on arrival but their cash swipe machine wouldn't accept my ANZ card, and the ANZ ATM on campus was down because of a system fault. This is still the case today, and as my ANZ Visa card also hadn't worked at the bottle shop the day before (and I've checked with the bank and all is in order with my accounts) it looks like the system is just not working in Madang at the moment. I still have 8 Kina ($4) though so it's not desperate yet…. I am sure I can work something out… I do have some Aussie $ but I don't fancy my chances with $50 notes down the market and I'm running out of food! Anyway, after a bit of back and forth I was allowed to make partial payment to join the gym. So by 1.15 I was ready to get into the fitness centre and get going but then I hit another slight snag… Beni, the fitness instructor (and the town's only masseuse if you remember) wasn't there and had the only key. 'Any idea when she'll be back?'… 'Oh, she's probably coming now.' So I wait. I go back after a while and ask somebody else. 'She'll be back after 2'. I decide to have lunch while I'm waiting and go down to the restaurant which is closed so I am sent to the coffee shop where I ask what snacks they have. 'Oh, no snacks'. 'What do you have to eat?' I enquire, thinking maybe there will be some cakes. 'Sandwiches'. So I took a non-snack sandwich and have added to my growing list of questions what the definition of a snack may be here. After lunch I go back to enquire of Beni's whereabouts and am informed that she never comes back till after 3pm. I have many virtues….. modesty being one, but patience most definitely is not so this is a useful lesson for me.

While waiting I made the acquaintance of a lovely couple from NZ, also vainly trying to use the gym, and I sat and I watched the clear blue sea and the beautiful tropical gardens and tried to relearn the lost art of patience.

I couldn't get hold of Konie today to go back to the Lodge but I have his mobile number now and he will not evade me forever! I have him clearly in my sights for tomorrow, for a sesh in the gym and a swim followed by a pizza with my IMR mates to end the week.

A group of music students from the University of Goroka in the Highlands has been on campus the last couple of days performing their version of the musical, Mama Mia. They also gave a free performance of contemporary PNG music at lunchtime which was sensational, and standing room only in the main auditorium. There were between 10 and 15 of them on stage at any one time, almost half on various drums and percussion instruments I couldn't name, a guitar and bass, a couple of keyboards and several singers, all male bar one singer. A kind of Melanesian world music with an edge. If they had been selling CDs I would have bought one as they were fantastic, but I still wasn't sure what to expect from tonight's show….

I turned up early (as it turns out) as there was no time printed on the ticket and the hall was almost full. The audience loved it, they were with the performers all the way and I suspect that some of them were there for the second night running. I find, there is nothing like going to see a show of some kind in a country to make me feel like I belong. It's a shared experience I suppose that binds you all. This was fascinating to watch – not just the individual great voices and a couple of fantastic dancers, or the amateur production values and dodgy sound system – but to see a New Guinea interpretation of a very western story and to see the audience reaction to it. This is a very conservative country, deeply religious and we were at a strongly catholic university yet the crowd roared approval at everything from the mother's admission of having casual sex with 3 men in quick succession and not knowing who the father of her child was, the predatory behaviour of her cougar friend, the drinking by the reunited female friends in the morning, to the 'priest' stripping off his cassock at the end and starting to boogie. They lapped it all up. What drew the biggest cheers of the night were the times when the women characters were really letting go and enjoying themselves. Perhaps a release mechanism in this very male dominated society.

I ended up sitting next to a woman with so many children I couldn't quite count them. A very friendly and smiley woman and we swapped a few laughs throughout the show. At one point I made some fairly poor joke but she loved it, laughed her head off, then rested her head on my arm. If it had happened in Australia or in most parts of the world it would have seemed inappropriate contact from a stranger but here it just felt right. Walking back to mine on campus everyone was smiling and greeting each other, including me. My jaw hurt from smiling, and I will never be able to look at ABBA the same way again.

Grog, Machetes and a Double Bus Crash

Always good to have a Plan B up your sleeve, but today both Plan A and Plan B came off. As the clock ticked closer to 5 pm I was starting to think I was going to have an enforced detox for the next 2 months, but a text came through from a Swiss guy I'd met at the weekend to say, "Be at front gate in 5 minutes". After running home to grab some money and switch my Blackberry for my cheap mobile that I wouldn't miss if robbed, I headed into town with him and his companion. The bottle shop was not large, nor well stocked but had the redeeming feature of being open. I soon discounted the spirits as the imported prices were outrageous - $100 for a small bottle of vodka or Bacardi. So I bought a dozen bottles of wine (which equates to 1.5 bottles a week for the next 2 months if I don't share which is unlikely, not that I'm counting…) though given the hot conditions in the shop and the strange yellowy colour of some of the contents, I am not entirely sure that all the bottles will make the grade. And a snip at just over $300! Plan B was having asked Liz at the Lodge to buy some bottles there that I would reimburse her for. It always pays to have a commodity in short supply… something I learnt from my Russian days when I traded well above my weight! Smuggling the alcohol onto campus also proved to be a breeze – thank you Faculty Dean!

I did see a couple of machetes being carried around in town today and it is amazing how quickly you develop a tolerance for seeing weaponry around. They were decently wrapped though, covered in wee sheaths which naturally makes them much less threatening…. I heard a lovely story the other day of someone seeing a man on a domestic flight carry his machete onboard, complete with little 'Security checked' sticker. How cute!

I found out today the real reason why I wasn't able to get a lift from Koni last weekend. There was nothing actually wrong with the car he used, but somebody had driven it to Lae and on the way back had overtaken rashly and caused a double bus crash. Nobody was badly hurt but given the PNG system of 'pay-back' or taking revenge, it is not a good idea to be seen out and about in that vehicle for a few weeks.

The caution being advised by the DWU staff is more extreme than what I am being told by some Westerners who live here. I found out today I am not getting the maintenance guy's car – I am not sure why, so I asked somebody in the VC's office about my idea of getting a push bike but was told that was not safe either, and advised again not to even walk to the Lodge. I pointed out that even a few other white females had told me that was safe in daylight hours but the very polite rejoinder was that they weren't tall, blonde, and new in town. At that point I am afraid I lost my cool and may have said with some feeling something along the lines of, "But I am going to lose my mind!' So from tomorrow, Koni is going to drive me to the Lodge each day so at least I can get off campus and use the fitness centre. Hallelujah, as I like my mind, I am quite attached to it and I wish to retain what is left of it!

Question: What’s the definition of frustration….?

Answer: announce a ban on all sales of alcohol for the next three months, effective tomorrow, and have no access to transport to get to a bottle shop…..

Solution…? None yet, but working on it!!!!

Biscuit Fights and a Desert Island

I haven't posted a blog for a few days. This delay is the happy result of my actually having had something to do over the weekend. I left campus on Saturday at 9 am and didn't return till almost midnight –success!!! I was picked up by some of the Institute of Medical Research (IMR) staff and we went to the market in town. People come down to sell their fresh fruit and veggies, billums (woven bags that everyone uses, I am now the proud owner of a pink and purple one), dresses, t-shirts, and carved artefacts. There were some amazing warrior headdresses which I am going to have to buy as souvenirs before I leave. Most of the sellers come down from Goroka or other parts of the Highlands – the area with the worst reputation for violence, so you have to be on alert there but they have a brilliant selection, and of course it is all locally grown and organic so very tasty, and the carrots really look like carrots! It's not that cheap and you have to buy or bring your own bags, but all up it's pretty damn good.

As we picked up a few people en route to the markets (friends of Sarah's, not hitchhikers!) there wasn't enough room for us all inside so I was out perched on the back of the ute, hanging on for grim life over the potholes, smiling at how so many guys wonder around town wearing Obama t-shirts, and generally enjoying the sense of freedom. I was even happy to hang around in the hardware store for half an hour while somebody had keys cut… and to wait outside in the boiling heat while some of the others went into the supermarket. Just being off campus was a real thrill!

That would have been enough on its own, but my fantastic day was not yet over as I got a lift to the Lodge for an excellent massage by a lady called Beni, then we headed to the Resort for a lounge in the pool with a beer as the sun set over the bay. Aaah! We couldn't stay too long however, as we had to walk back to Sarah's before dark, even though it was less than 100 m and there were 6 of us.

Dinner was out on the deck in what could easily have been a house in Townsville with its tropical backyard. Great food that we all chipped in and helped prepare … though some more than others …;) and a little bit of wine and beer, but not that much… it's expensive here and you also have to keep your wits about you. A bottle of pretty average imported Australian wine that would cost about $10-15 in the bottle shop at home is $35 here. This trip will be good for my liver! I have also heard a nasty rumour that a ban on alcohol sales will come into effect later this week – indefinitely!!! It is an attempt to crack down on crime but appears doomed from the outset, as all it will do is drive people to the bootleggers in the settlements who make pure alcohol rather than the average strength beer people might otherwise drink. Genius! I am wondering whether there is some kind of universal conspiracy against me as this also happened when I was a student in Russia in '88 and Gorbachev introduced his prohibition a couple of weeks after I arrived. Aaah well, I will cross that bridge when I come to it…!

The dinner crowd on Saturday was a mixture of PNG newbies like me and a few old hands, but no locals. Chance rather than design, but I think the locals v ex-pat split is still quite common socially. One person had a theory that visitors who stay more than 3 years never leave and that after 3 years you are irredeemably crazy but no longer know it. People started chipping in with stories that made me remember what it was about PNG that initially drew me to the place. It really is somewhere that extraordinary things happen. Sarah told how on one occasion a few years ago a second security guard was posted outside her house on top of the usual one as a result of a spike in crime rates. One was from the town however and one from the country so they didn't take to each other, and eventually they got into a full on punch-up over each other's biscuits. When they weren't fighting, the guard from the country could be found in her back yard lighting fires and singing to himself.

Sarah also took a call saying that the ceiling of the labour ward at the local hospital had just fallen in, and had landed on one woman in the midst of labour. She and the baby are ok apparently, but they closed the whole ward. On a previous occasion, thieves stole a solar panel from the same hospital so the management simply closed it until the panel was returned. They just shut the whole hospital for days. It is a different way of thinking.

On Sunday morning I got up bright and early to join 5 of the others to kayak out to one of the islands in the bay. Robinson Crusoe, eat your heart out! It was stunning – crystal blue, still waters with coconuts bobbing along. The bay is dotted with dozens of islands and I kept going a little off course, ('Head for the one with the palm tree sticking up!' Errr….) but we all made it, including surviving the mini surf waves that came out of nowhere and soaked us. Apparently it could have been from a mini earthquake, but the good news is that little quakes happen here practically every day , making a large scale one less likely! On arrival, we snorkelled and I walked round the island which took less than a minute. We only saw one other boat the whole time, and that had the Dean of the Health Sciences Faculty on it!

Today (Monday) has been a great day too – I started my proper work program (though apparently it was the Show Holiday in Townsville – I should have had a lie in!) and it has been great. I am starting to see how both my projects can take shape, and people are incredibly open and constructive here so far. One faculty is even going to bring in all the Heads of Department so I can present to them. I also started to get some of the interesting inside information about what's really happening at the uni!

So all up, a very productive day, especially as it included getting my toilet, my fridge and my coffee plunger fixed! I am trying not to get too excited in case it doesn't come off but Chris, the guy who fixed my fridge (and sold me the fish) is going to Port Moresby tomorrow for 10 days and suggested I could use his car while he's gone. Whoohoo!!!! Thing is, it's not actually his car so I have to ask the President's permission. I am still waiting on an answer… fingers crossed – that would mean ten days of freedom!!!! J

Cross your fingers for me!