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.

 

 

Accidently voicing my first ad...

Apparently in PNG when you’re minding your own business trying to do some work and someone casually strolls up to you, hands you a piece of paper and says “Hey Annie, can you read this?”, what they actually mean is; “ Hey Annie, can you familiarize yourself with this information while I immediately herd you into the recording studio where you will read the words on this paper aloud into a microphone fit with a recording device in the tone of voice that I specify so that we can mix it with corny music and create a 30 second advertisement to be broadcast on the radio several times a day for the coming weeks? Kthanks”

We are living in a security world, and I am a security girl

Milne Bay proudly boasts the reputation of "the safest place in PNG".

And, truly, I feel it.

But it's impossible to ignore that while it's comparatively safe, this is still PNG.

We live in a lovely house, in a lovely area. But still we have bars on all of our windows, locks on our bedroom doors and 24 hour security guards patrolling our street.

In saying that, I don't really notice it. The bars become just part of the scenery, the security guards are just friendly guys who we chat to in the street.

Things do go wrong here. Not often, but they do. When things do happen, it's the locals that get really upset about it. It's nice to see that it's not just something that is expected as it is in other areas. They are sad to see what is happening to their province, and quick to lay the blame on people coming in from other areas of the country (specifically, highlanders!).

I have found the local perception of, and response to, crime to be quite interesting.

In my first week here there was a particularly horrific event in which a junior police officer was shot dead by some criminals following a hold up.

The community was just absolutely devastated. But the blame wasn't laid on the criminals themselves. There was limited talk about retribution or anything like that. The response centred more around the sadness that services, the authorities, the administration had failed these people and they'd turned to crime as a result. For the most part, people weren't wishing harm on the young fellow who had masterminded the robbery, and in turn, the shooting, They were sending their prayers for him, that he would find peace and a life free from crime, and that his ultimate judgement would be fair.

It was horrible that these things happened and that people had been hurt, but it was humbling to see a community in mourning with such compassion and love for their fellow humans, even when they had strayed.

Living here, you are certainly afforded much more freedom than those in other areas of the country. But you still have to be mindful.

"Be alert, not alarmed. Walk with purpose. Think of plans B, C and D." Are the types of advice that we live by.

Your safety lies largely in your connections. I am really lucky to be working in the media because it means that my colleagues are very well connected, and through my affiliation with them have scores of people looking out for me. I know that if anything happened to me there would be hell to pay and it's really comforting to know that. Making friends who drive armoured vehicles and have bullet proof vests also helps :)

My new office....

"Annie, this is your new office. Please don't suicide on these cables"

The Power of Journalism

I’d like to share a story that was shared to me by my colleagues – with both great sadness and great pride.

In 2011 they were tasked with putting together a story under the category of ‘governance’. They travelled to remote Islands off the coast of Milne Bay to investigate claims that government services, especially education, were not reaching these people.

They travelled long distances to remote areas of the province, and what they uncovered was alarming.

Trained teachers are scarce as it is, and they are even more reluctant to take up remote postings where the funding is poor, the resources are limited and the quality of life is poor.

What they found was a community of children who had been sent by their families to get whatever little education they could from the one island centre where there was what could loosely be categorised as a school.

The children were living by their own means with no adult supervision. They had formed their own community among their makeshift housing. Sometimes they had food, sometimes they didn’t. They weathered the challenges of being separated from their families and having to provide for themselves and look after each other at such a young age because receiving what little primary education they could was the priority.

My colleagues recounted the compassion and sadness they felt for their people upon seeing the circumstances in which these children were living, just to be able to receive an education – a basic human right.

Many of them were holding back tears while interviewing the children and often ended interviews so they wouldn’t break down. The recordings were often shaky because the person holding the equipment was crying.

They told of two brothers who had tried to canoe home to their island during the school holidays. The older brother was rowing and lost control of the canoe when a giant wave came and they capsized. The older brother was pushed under water and when he surfaced, he couldn’t find his younger sibling. Distraught, he searched and searched the deep waters, but he couldn’t find him.

Days later a group of fisherman saw something in the water and paddled over. It was the young child, face down in the water, his school bag still on his back.

Arriving back to the mainland, my colleagues broadcast the story on the Milne Bay airwaves. It triggered a chain of reaction. The community was devastated to hear the disadvantage suffered by their brothers and sisters on the islands. The next day the provincial authorities were forced to act, triggered by community outrage. Radio had been the catalyst for addressing a problem that had previously been unheard and out of sight. I could tell it was a very proud moment in my colleagues working life and such a powerful testament to the importance and value of information.

Soccer: Finding a Team

It was a massive bummer to leave my beloved soccer team back home and I had very little hope for being able to find any women that played in Alotau at all.

To my surprise and delight, Soccer is the number one sport among women here.

And a side note to the die hards and tragics out there; you’ll be pleased to know that they call it ‘football’

My first day of work had come and I decided that I’d try and make conversation with the Driver when he came to pick me up for the first time. I mentioned that I was keen to find a team and he obviously made it his personal mission to find me one.

And find me a team he did!

Thirty minutes later he said they had been thinking of some options.

One hour later they presented the team options to me depending on where I was looking to live and each team had been contacted to ask if they would take me.

Amazing how efficiently some things can happen here when others, not so much…

 

Getting recruited right, left and centre

All of a sudden everyone wanted a piece of me.

They had no idea whether I could actually play or not, but that didn’t seem to matter.

On my first weekend, I went out to watch a game. Several people approached me to ask what my story was and the all-important question – did I have a team!

It got to the stage where when being introduced to people on the street I would be met with responses like:

 “Yes I know you, you were the one who was going to play for our soccer team, but now you’re playing with that other team, why are you playing with them? You should be playing with us.”

I had never seen that guy in my life by the way.

The Original Market Economy

We are very fortunate to have an excellent open air food market, where you can get some great produce. But again it largely comes down to luck of the draw with what’s available. This can be exciting, but it’s hard to plan what you’ll be eating and disappointing when the options are limited.

But above all, the market is a great experience. Fresh coconuts for around 30-60 toaea (approx. 15-30 cents Aussie) each… AMAZING. Given the complete Adelaide lack in this area, I was drinking a coconut a day for at least my first two weeks!

The market sells plenty of goodies; bananas (of ALL varieties, even those I didn’t know existed), coconuts old and young, an amaaaaaaaaaaaaazing variety of tropical fruits; paw paw, star fruit, sugar fruit (passion fruit?), ‘Lemons’ also known as grapefruit!. I will never, never get sick of eating delicious fresh tropical fruit everyday… and so cheaply!

While it can be difficult to get the types of veggies were accustomed to back home there are plenty of veggies on offer at the market; Taro, pumpkin, an array of root vegetables I can’t tell a part or even begin to try and name, hoardes of ‘greens’ of different varieties some of which look like they should be in the garden not on your plate but they are delish.

There’s also a range of seafood on offer – including giant fresh mudcrabs for around $5 Aussie dollars. Incredible.

And of course, there is the Buai…. Always the Buai….