just read dfat's warned against that "non-essential" travel to indonesia. but up here in biak, life seems to sound in dulcet tones: sweet. flew in this afternoon (from jayapura) and over the next few days, planning to check out beaches and caves and ww2 relics, and eat well and drink a few beers and probably pinch myself

the stars our destination

well, nearly.

(also last weekend, had a big storm late afternoon with beautiful, strange, light)

but enough of goroka: tomorrow i fly out and up to Vanimo with the boy wonder. Check your maps: vanimo's on the north-west coast, nearing the border. Getting a visa there, and then tuesday it's due west - a new stamp in the passport, and adventures in the unknown...back in two weeks

last weekend i went to a friend's party. in the afternoon we had a bit of a cultural show in the backyard: one of the asaro mud men came and played. he stalked around the yard for a while, and we looked on appreciatively (yes, it was a bit strange) - but then he got each of us to wear one of the mud men masks and shadow-fight with him. weird experience; the mask is very heavy, and hot. no photos of me in mask; my culturally-appropriate rep remains intact

there was so much to see at the show; everyone - tourists, locals, performers - were all eyes - and feathers

she's in fashion

special

i know these are late, but i didn't forget your birthdays girls.

show and tell

ok...and so here i begin to bore you. our lines of communication have been down since last wednesday, and when i found out that they were back and vibrating this evening, i got a bit excited and decided to post a large number of photos...these are all from the caving trip, mainly outside (these are the coffee beans drying on the road, stopping traffic from going any further; i'd say that we were the only traffic of the week). but don't worry - there are many more photos to fill the rest of your days: goroka show was on last week, independence, and there are also the normal bits and pieces from a busy weekend (and i met martin from "kantri bilong yumi", if anyone's seen it! very excited; he is fantastic fun, really cheeky sense of humour. highlight of my week.) anyway, back to the show:

this is the village that surrounded the coffee beans. it was here we got out and the haus lines gathered; and from here, we went down hill.

there was a little game of hopscotch carved out in the road.

our descent went something like this

somehow someone has snuck in power towers; didn't see any evidence of electricity otherwise, but nice to know it's there

cave entrance

from inside

inside the belly of the caves it is, of course, almost impossible to take any good photos. straight ahead and down was a roaring, crashing river; far above our heads was a road; but these details are a bit meaningless to you i guess...

oh no! out of order! but this was just above the caves - how we arrived at and departed, along those carefully made trails

inside, heading out; right by the entrance. by the time we were exiting, the number of people around had doubled

or: caves with flash

after we left the caves, we had to hike back up the hill. finally we reached the top (the incline! the exhaustion), via a short cut which seemed to take a lot longer; then we had to wait for some sucker to take the long way round and pick up the car. even more villagers gathered round, lots of people to greet; hung out and chewed sugar cane; + stared out at the views. (my mind was a flat line at this stage.)

this is the highlands.

tired out. ready for bed - or 2 and a 1/2 hours bumping in the back of a truck, last part with rain...

ship bilong PNG

(different faces represent different areas; the white face bottom right represents a Goroka man; I’m guessing he’s one of the asaro mud men)

The politics are ambiguous but I couldn’t resist this painting by Simon Gende, of Simbu.

I like to imagine it’s a re-dreaming of history. This time Papua New Guineans (see their distinctive noses!) man the ship and discover the new worlds. See how present they are: there’s no room for pasts or futures, so intent is the focus on the present, so absorbed are they in what is now. Their eyes meet your gaze directly, confident with their cultural markings of place. Ready.


PNG’s 30th anniversary of independence is coming up this weekend. I had forgotten this, until I wrote the above paragraph, and thought about the contrast between the optimism and strength in that picture and the uneasy air that surrounds talk of the commemoration.

It’s generally agreed that the state of PNG has degenerated, that in 30 years things (health services, education, governance, state institutions, environmental conditions and resources, safety) have gone “backwards” (if you like those linear, progressive models). There are malfunctions, breakdowns, failures; some things teeter permanently on the verge of collapse; others are unbearable – and yet must be borne. There are days when it seems that “PNG i bagarap”.

But somehow it never is. Whatever the analyses of the past and the predictions of the future; however dire or fantastic; there is a strong, kicking presence to the Papua New Guineans I work with, am friends with, move amongst. People are not devastated; they are not hopeless; they do not abandon the ship. Look again at the picture: there is no sign as to where the ship’s come from or where it’s going. There are no shadows. Instead people “face” the present, the here and now. There is something in this that represents what it is like here. It’s something more than the quality of durability: it’s living, a concentration on living itself.


It’s not that simple, of course. And today that attitude is not enough. But it’s also something that I’m learning from.