Only in PNG

Things I've learned in PNG

• Opening a coconut with a bush knife (machete) is NOT as easy as locals make it look and should NOT under any circumstances be attempted by inexperienced white girl.

• Wearing a swish blazer over head to toe army fatigues is a pretty rocking look.

• The 'sitting next to a crazy person on the bus experience' is a lot more entertaining in Pidgin.

• Cockroaches can fly.

Things we say in PNG

"I can't wait to get back to Australia so that I can treat my fungal infection."

"Shut up and drink your coconut."

"Who wants to crush up our doxy and try and snort it?"

FEVER! In the morning, fever all through the night.

I’ve had my first run in with mysterious tropical virus. I was completely bed ridden for almost a week and am only just on the mend. It wasn’t Malaria because the slides were negative, but was perhaps Dengue. Although we will never know because the hospitals Dengue tests were all expired!

I spent a good 5 days straight in bed with a fever, sweating, and sleeping far more than I was awake.

Whatever it was, I have survived my first bout of tropical sickness and have emerged back to the world of the living with nothing but amusing tales and muscle deterioration!

Melanesian compassion and hospitality

I have been so overwhelmed by the care I have been given while I have been sick. Looking after one and other is so deeply ingrained in Melanesian culture, which was more apparent than ever when I was under the weather.

All the staff from the station were texting and calling me each day, making sure I was ok.

My lovely counterpart from work came to my house to deliver me supplies; juice and imported Aussie fruit. And AMAZINGLY Cadbury chocolate! Which you cannot buy anywhere in Alotau! Her husband had brought it back on the dinghy from his rugby trip to a different province… and she had sacrificed it for me! In my fragile, sick state I seriously almost cried.

Our haus meri (housekeeper) would come and check on me every day and was offering to bring me soup. The bar staff from the lodge across the road even came by to see how I was doing!

Diagnoses and remedies; right, left and centre

The funny thing about being sick around here is that everyone throws in their two cents. Everyone has their diagnosis for you despite having absolutely no medical expertise. I was informally diagnosed with everything under the sun. One person’s Pneumonia is another person’s Malaria, which is another person’s Flu.

Everyone also has their own remedy for the problem; from massaging your capillaries to shots of whisky.

This time at least, bed rest seemed to do the trick.

Going to the hospital

There are no GPs here so no matter what is wrong with you, you go to the hospital. And not only the hospital, but the Accident and Emergency ward at that!

Alotau has comparatively great medical facilities when compared to the rest of the country (a health system which is often considered to be in crisis, and was described by a former PNG health minister as ‘bloody useless’).

Even so, my visits to the hospital were pretty eye opening.

However, as a white person you are never privy to the full extent of the conditions. I experience ‘positive discrimination’ pretty often throughout daily life (I don’t get patted down and searched by security guards when leaving each shop for example) and the hospital was no different.

On my first visit, despite the fact that there was a full waiting room of patients, I as the only white person, was seen to first. I also knew the doctor’s brother which in PNG goes a long way!

The next few visits were not as easy.

Among the things that I encountered;

-          There was a used needle on one of the benches in the waiting room. It had the plastic covering on it, but it was still a used needle, laying around in a health facility, in a country where transmissible diseases like HIV are extremely prevalent. It was still there when I returned the next day.

-          There is sometimes a bit of a queue system operating in the waiting room and people shuffle down the benches as people are slowly seen to. There was a space on the bench near the front of the line where no one had been sitting the whole time I had been waiting. People would shuffle up the line, but always around that one spot. As I got closer, I realised why. There was blood all over the seat.

-          The place where you go and pay hospital fees, there is a list of costs for each service (consultation, blood test, etc). In amongst all of the usual hospital services, there are also the morgue fees for each day that you leave a dead body in the hospital. Death is just another everyday part of the hospital experience.

Amazingly though, getting medical attention is pretty cheap. A consultation with a doctor cost 2 Kina (approx. $1AUD). Any medication they prescribe is also 2 Kina. A small consolation for waiting hours on end to see a doctor in a waiting room with blood in it, I guess.

All in all, being sick here made me realise how lucky we are in Australia. Being here, I have the comfort of knowing that if I get sick I will be med-evacced back to Australia to get medical attention. Most people don’t have that luxury, and relying on the health system alone would be terrifying.

A compelling case for vegetarianism

What even are giblets?

Machete Mowers

Machete wielding men doing some garden maintenance!

This is how we mow the grass in PNG. Machetes, or bush knives as they are known locally, are used for just about everything.

It looks like hard work as well. To cut the small patch of grass in front of our studio we had two men working on it for two full days.

It is common to walk past people in the street holding giant bush knives. In Alotau at least, they are rarely used for fighting. Mainly for gardening, opening coconuts etc.

And they are not limited to adults. I've children holding bush knives the same size that they are. Children are totally gipped in Australia... We're not allowed to run with scissors and these kids can do whatever they want with enormous potential weapons!

Playing Soccer in PNG

Playing soccer in PNG has certainly been an experience!

It’s a different game here.

There’s no other way to describe it.

Community sport is a massive part of PNG life. For the entire weekend, rain or shine, scores of people can be found around the sports field; playing sport, watching sport, talking about sport.

Needless to say it was quite the entertainment when a ‘dimdim’ (white girl) decided to try her luck at joining a local team.

Becoming a celebrity athlete…

Each weekend on the radio we do a regular sports segment. Apparently me playing soccer was newsworthy enough to make the cut and I was forced into the studio to discuss my soccer debut. This was broadcast just hours before our game – meaning that when it came to game time the oval had attracted a bigger crowd than I have ever seen there. All out to check out the white girl.

Furthermore, apparently it was appropriate to make an announcement about me on the loud speaker during the game! The officials have a tent set up on the side of the field with a PA and they announced to the crowd who the white girl was, where I was from, what I was doing here, my soccer background, etc etc etc. I don’t think I have ever been such a spectacle!

Under - resourcing…

There is one sporting field in Alotau. It is used for both soccer and rugby. For women’s soccer alone there are 19 teams. Every team needs to share the oval. As a result, games are played in 20 minute halves so that each team has a chance to play.

The mud, always the mud…

Alotau gets more rain than just about anywhere in the world! The pitch is constantly being rained on, and constantly being played on. It is an absolute mud pit. No joke, there are puddles so big that frogs live in them.

Several times I have had to change the way I was dribbling in the middle of games because all of a sudden there was a frog hopping in front of me.

Even though the games are only 40 minutes long, the mud makes it such hard yakka. The game here doesn’t involve much passing or dribbling. It’s more of a kick and run affair. I’m beginning to realise that this may have evolved not through lack of coaching but out of pure necessity of getting around the mud!

Rituals…

Before every game, we say a prayer. At half time, we say a prayer. After the game, we say a prayer.

I may not be religious but I actually think that this is lovely.

It’s more just a time to reflect and be thankful. The types of things said include; we hope that we are able to support each other today and that we are blessed with a good result, we hope that the referee is fair, and that our opponents have a safe game. They often thank god for the experience of having me on their team and hope that they will learn all they can. After the game they pray that everyone makes it home safely.

These are all things that I would think of when playing back home, but here it’s all open and voiced. And although it’s to a higher power, I think it’s just nice that it’s said and considered at all.

The PNG of it all…

The pitch that we play on, though muddy, is stunning. It’s right by the water and surrounded by palm trees.

I’ve never seen the level of sportsmanship displayed here anywhere else in the world. After each game both teams huddle together in a big group hug and chat about the game before everyone is individually acknowledged and hugged!

There is no kind of planning, communication or strategy on the field. But it seems to work.

All in all, soccer in PNG is pretty metaphoric of my everyday life in here; a good spirited, relaxed, friendly type of organised chaos that I rarely understand.