MACHETES GALORE!

10th March 2008

Lovely to hear from you all, particularly to-day, as I have been confined to bed with a nasty sickness/diarrhoea bug.Feeling a bit better now, so have time to write a bit more.

I was lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, when it sounded as though WW2 had started.I looked out and you know (those teachers amongst you) how we used to do whole school litter picking occasionally, well the whole school here has turned out to do a whole school grass cutting exercise - with lawnmowers? - no!Shears or scissors even? - no.! Every damn kid in the school is scything the grass with machetes!! I'm just waiting for someone to fall out with someone else and a massacre to occur!

Educationally, things are very frustrating.We turned up at school for an INSET meeting with the staff yesterday, only to be told the Head was sick so it had been postponed! Was anyone informed? - no.Today we had an appointment with the Secondary Inspector - he wasn't there and no-one knew where he was.After which we were supposed to attend a heads' meeting - yes you got it, it was cancelled, despite one head having to fly in from a remote region.Letting people know of cancellations doesn't appear to occur to anyone.Teachers and staff are struggling massively with the New Reform Curriculum - that's if they're even trying to implement it.Outcome based education is alien to them as is student participation.Mind you, the average class size is between 40-45, so crowd control is higher up the teachers' agenda. Here, students only move up a grade if they pass their end of year's exam, so there are students in Grade 10 sporting beards and looking old enough to be drawing their pension - it's never too late, so they say!

The main mode of transport here is by PMV - public motor vehicle.They are clapped out old minibus type vehicles (most of them look as though they're about to be bagggerup!) or lorries, where you grip on for dear life in the back and hope for the best.I'm taking another day to recover tomorrow, but the intrepid John is going off into the wilderness with our boss to visit a remote school - I hope he returns!Next week we are returning to Madang for a monitoring and evaluation workshop (riveting no doubt!) We are going by truck on the main Highlands Highway and the likely travel time is 10 hours.It's not that far in miles, it's just there are loads of mountains and huge potholes in the road, to say nothing of landslides and raskals (bandits)!There are several strong men on board, so we should be alright - I'll leave the tiara at home though!Hopefully it will mean we might have a cockroach-free couple of nights, but the cost of that is being a puddle on legs for most of the time.

There's a very strong culture here called wantoks.These are anyone and everyone who is near to you -neighbours are wantoks as are members of the same clan etc. So if ever help is required it's your wantoks you turn to.Marvellous, you might say, how altruistic.That's all very well, but if you become successful and your wantoks don't, you are duty bound to help them out, which could mean whole families land on your doorstep for months at a time.Therefore, here it's best not to let on if you're doing well or emigrate!This is why the political system is so naff - people don't vote for the politics but for the wantok.The other day a lorry driver ploughed into some people and without waiting to see the carnage he'd caused, he fled for his life, for fear of wantok reprisal!Violence is never far away, but we don't feel threatened very often and we stick to the rules e.g. never go into town on 'payday' Friday for example, as wages are given then and most people get drunk which leads to fights.Coming home from market yesterday John encountered two men knocking seven lumps of s*** out of each other with supporters on either side of the street preparing to wade in, so he made himself pretty scarce!

On a day to day level, they are delightful folk and the children so beautiful.They have a lot of freedom compared to English children.If they're not at school, they play outside, often stark naked, rain or shine (rain is best because the puddles are fun) all day long and well after dark and appear thoroughly contented and very friendly, without being in your face.Mind you, when walking down the street 'it's rude to stare' doesn't apply.The children particularly, can't take their eyes of you and often point and laugh (can you blame them if John's got his funny hat on?) while the really young pikininis take one look and start bawling, which is a bit disconcerting!Social Services would have a field day here.I've already witnessed several instances of children being beaten, smacked about and hauled around by one arm over stones and up steps.Intervention has to be considered carefully in the light of the culture though.We were told a story when training by the VSO country director, who is married to a national. One night he was called to his gate to find a woman streaming with blood and unconscious lying on the ground and people were walking by doing nothing .He found out she'd been beaten to a pulp with a metal pipe by her husband. No-one was doing anything because it is accepted here and also for fear if they helped the woman, the husband's wantoks would get them.Amazingly, at the hospital, the doctors refused to treat her and the one white doctor did what he could but got reprimanded for it - the woman died.The country director was OK because his wife's wantoks would have protected him had there been any reprisals.So helping another human being has it's consequences here and has to be considered carefully!

I have the time to write all this to-day as I'm still poorly and not working - the bug seems to have taken a real hold.So I was sitting on my balcony enjoying a breeze and watching some beautiful butterflies, when this dude appeared and introduced himself as Ben, in perfect English.He is a subsistence farmer visiting my neighbour, his brother.We had a long conversation about the rubbish government and how poor everyone was and before he left he offered to come back at the week-end and help me with my Tok Pisin, so I'll have my own personal tutor (that's if he turns up of course - I won't wait in!).Luckily the community here speak and understand Tok Pisin, but their vernacular is Kumen, which is an entirely different language and very difficult to learn apparently.

I've become reconciled to the dogs! There are loads and thry sre wild but they serve a purpose I've discovered.People here live mostly outdoors, which includes cooking and eating.So, any leftovers are cleaned up by the dogs and the rain washes away any uneaten debris.We were getting desperate to deal with our rubbish situation, as no-one seemed to be able to tell us where to put it.We then spied the school gardener digging a pit not far from our house and we were informed by the head that this was where we dumped all our rubbish.We said what about the glass, plastic, tins etc? That too goes in the pit, then when that's full it's covered over and another is dug.Our own personal landfill site - it's ridiculous, but I don't know what to do about it - further enquiries are needed.Our Dutch boss slings all his waste in the river, plastic and all - I was horrified, but when he asked what else he could do ,I didn't have an answer.Some environmentalists required out here methinks pdq. ! Any ideas/offers?

Forgot to tell you about my hospital adventure! Diarrohea had reached a stage where I could no longer function without being near a loo and the only two I would dare to consider was ours and our boss - (mind you, with still no water, things weren't very savoury anywhere!)So, Cate, wife of boss, who is a physiotherapist at the hospital, had words and the doc there said I had to have a blood test for typhoid before any treatment could be recommended.So off I trudged to the hospital, the best in PNG and built by the Japanese in 1998. I walked past the leprosy and TB wards, passed a few trolleys waiting outside the operating theatre in full sun with the world and his wife drifting by.Was directed to the phlebotomy clinic, which consisted of a peeling, grubby looking formica table in the corridor with a big mama in traditional dress (no crisp, white uniform) surrounded by a jumble of containers and bits of cotton wool, wielding a syringe which looked like a bicycle pump!John rugby tackled me as I made for the exit!As he held me down, I smiled at the 'nurse' and pleaded for a 'lik lik' needle (little needle) whereupon she smiled resignedly, ferreted in her containers, sighed, went into another room and appeared with a huge grin brandishing a 'lik lik' needle.The strap around my arm was a plastic glove with the fingers tied together and the removal of the blood totally painless! Whew!Then we queued up to see the nurse who prescribed an antibiotic and some other pills for the pain, which cost us the grand sum of 4 kina (less than a pound)!The fact that nearly a week down the line they have not worked, is neither here nor there I suppose.I fear another trip will have to be undertaken if things don't improve, as work is out of the question at the moment.Trust me to make life complicated!

I'll finish this drivel right now and get the washing in before it's dried to a crisp - it gets dry almost before it gets to the washing line.

Hope to get down to some work next week if I can kick this bug and if things don't get cancelled!I await John's return with some trepidation, hope he hasn't fallen off the PMV!

John arrived home unscathed!!

Today we went out for lunch! Invited to the home of Patrick, a physiotherapist who works with Cate (wife of boss) at the hospital - he lives about 10 miles out of Kundiawa and as well as two nationals, Willie and Joe, a German orthopaedic surgeon was also a guest.He was about to return to Germany and had been in Kundiawa doing lots of operations on club foot, which is very prevalent in Melanesia.He lives in a 'palace' high on a hill, with the mountains as his view.We had such a pleasant time, no roast beef and Yorkshire pud for Sunday lunch though, much to John's disappointment, but his face soon lit up at the appearance of asparagus, which was delicious.We had to return by PMV and as we were waiting at the bus stop, a fight broke out and they were going at it hammer and tongs.Then, the PMV ride was something else.You really wouldn't believe the state of the roads, they have to be seen to be believed. It was very exciting, with spectacular views!I'll try and take some photos when we travel down to Madang next week.Anyway, we came to a full halt because a huge lorry coming in the opposite direction had got stuck and another lorry had to pull it out.

Along the way, at the side of the road, was a burnt out PMV.Apparently, the driver had killed a pedestrian and fled from the scene for fear of his life, so, as the villagers couldn't get him, (he would definitely have been killed) they burnt his van.I believe the man is now in police custody, which apparently is the safest place for him to be!!

Work in earnest tomorrow - if appointments are kept - don't hold your breath!