Conjugal visits
Long-distance relationships might test your mettle as a couple and give you opportunities to grow that you might otherwise not experience – but at the eight month apart mark, I must say the whole concept is highly overrated.
When I arrived in PNG someone asked me why any pair in their right minds would put themselves through such a gruelling experience. At the time I seemed to have a dozen good reasons. Right now, another four months feels like a lifetime.
Nick left Mt Hagen on Monday after a month-long blissful visit. We did all the usual Hagen things… trekking, visiting villages, baking, hanging out with friends and second-hand clothes shopping (if I haven’t mentioned before, the second-hand clothes here are BRILLIANT. I recently picked up a Scanlan and Theodore top for 70 toea [about 30c] and a pair of Hauser pants for just a couple of Kina [$1]. Nick was quite addicted to finding just the right shirt but only had a little luck in comparison to my finds).
It was interesting seeing his reaction when he got here. All the things that are normal to me now had him wide-eyed from that first drive into town from the airport – and all of those new-to-the-country feelings came vicariously flooding back. The number of betel nut, soap and vegetable sellers on the side of the road is pretty amazing at first. But then you realise that the country basically rides on the back of its informal sector.
Hagen is the kind of place that people fear to visit but is really not that much of a security risk. The highlander reputation of violence – though justified at times – generally relates only to the way villagers and townsfolk deal with their own family members or those from warring clans. Apart from the odd middle-of-the-night domestic violence issue, it’s not generally something you see out in the open. Unless there is a rock concert (see earlier blog entry).
So anyway, in a month, Nick was able to lose that startled newcomer look and even experience some of the frustrations of being one of only a few “waitman” in town. Being the local freakshow is something that never really subsides – you just find ways of tolerating it. Hagen is a big enough place that there are always new people in the main streets staring straight at you, motioning toward you and whispering to their dumbstruck children or just brushing past to touch you. For good luck, presumably? In the non-contact arena, Nick discovered the best thing to do was to wear sunglasses. Eye contact seems to be a major attention-grabber here. But for the most part, people are extremely friendly and just want to say “moning!” or “apinun!” and shake your hand.
Some pics of Nick's time in the Highlands....
One of our tireless Protect escorts driving Nick and me back from Rondon Ridge - the new TransNiugini Tours lodge overlooking Mt Hagen town
Nick watching his first mumu being prepared. A bit like a NZ hangi. Here, the food is wrapped in leaves and cooked in the ground over hot stones. Mumu means 'to steam'
Maggie Wilson serving Nick's welcome mumu. We bought the chickens and Maggie provided village-raised pork. Kumu (greens), corn, peanuts, pit pit (kind of like asparagus), beans, taro, kau kau (sweet potato) and cooking bananas abound...
Yes, that's a good inch of fat on the pig
One of the village children we met on a visit to Avi block settlement. This little one comes from a particularly progressive area in the province. Her elders have done away with compensation, instated welfare officers for settling inter-clan disputes and host regular multi-denominational church gatherings
Me and Nick in the Nebilyer Valley after trekking down Mt Kuta. The Nebilyer is the infamous site of the First Contact, Joe Leahy's Neighbours and Black Harvest documentary films
When I arrived in PNG someone asked me why any pair in their right minds would put themselves through such a gruelling experience. At the time I seemed to have a dozen good reasons. Right now, another four months feels like a lifetime.
Nick left Mt Hagen on Monday after a month-long blissful visit. We did all the usual Hagen things… trekking, visiting villages, baking, hanging out with friends and second-hand clothes shopping (if I haven’t mentioned before, the second-hand clothes here are BRILLIANT. I recently picked up a Scanlan and Theodore top for 70 toea [about 30c] and a pair of Hauser pants for just a couple of Kina [$1]. Nick was quite addicted to finding just the right shirt but only had a little luck in comparison to my finds).
It was interesting seeing his reaction when he got here. All the things that are normal to me now had him wide-eyed from that first drive into town from the airport – and all of those new-to-the-country feelings came vicariously flooding back. The number of betel nut, soap and vegetable sellers on the side of the road is pretty amazing at first. But then you realise that the country basically rides on the back of its informal sector.
Hagen is the kind of place that people fear to visit but is really not that much of a security risk. The highlander reputation of violence – though justified at times – generally relates only to the way villagers and townsfolk deal with their own family members or those from warring clans. Apart from the odd middle-of-the-night domestic violence issue, it’s not generally something you see out in the open. Unless there is a rock concert (see earlier blog entry).
So anyway, in a month, Nick was able to lose that startled newcomer look and even experience some of the frustrations of being one of only a few “waitman” in town. Being the local freakshow is something that never really subsides – you just find ways of tolerating it. Hagen is a big enough place that there are always new people in the main streets staring straight at you, motioning toward you and whispering to their dumbstruck children or just brushing past to touch you. For good luck, presumably? In the non-contact arena, Nick discovered the best thing to do was to wear sunglasses. Eye contact seems to be a major attention-grabber here. But for the most part, people are extremely friendly and just want to say “moning!” or “apinun!” and shake your hand.
Some pics of Nick's time in the Highlands....
One of our tireless Protect escorts driving Nick and me back from Rondon Ridge - the new TransNiugini Tours lodge overlooking Mt Hagen town
Nick watching his first mumu being prepared. A bit like a NZ hangi. Here, the food is wrapped in leaves and cooked in the ground over hot stones. Mumu means 'to steam'
Maggie Wilson serving Nick's welcome mumu. We bought the chickens and Maggie provided village-raised pork. Kumu (greens), corn, peanuts, pit pit (kind of like asparagus), beans, taro, kau kau (sweet potato) and cooking bananas abound...
Yes, that's a good inch of fat on the pig
One of the village children we met on a visit to Avi block settlement. This little one comes from a particularly progressive area in the province. Her elders have done away with compensation, instated welfare officers for settling inter-clan disputes and host regular multi-denominational church gatherings
Me and Nick in the Nebilyer Valley after trekking down Mt Kuta. The Nebilyer is the infamous site of the First Contact, Joe Leahy's Neighbours and Black Harvest documentary films
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