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Published: April 4th 2008
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There is something, shall we say, unnerving about being completely defenseless in a city more known for its violence, than its colorful mixture of native cultures. I guess that if you think about it, if you open the blender that is the city of Port Moresby, and you throw in a few thousand immigrants from some 800 distinctly different cultures, add a heaping portion of poverty, a good amount of disillusionment about jobs that dont exist, and top it all off with a tiny sprinkle of available land, its really no wonder that this city seems like a breeding ground for fear and violence. 3 weeks ago, knowing all this, my attorney and I were as game as ever to jump right in with both feet...and hopefully pull ourselves back out as soon as we possibly could.
Moresby is the kind of place where one could easily spend all of their time locked within a compound, not venturing out onto the outside streets. This might have been our fate, but when The Benn and I were escorted out into the center of the city, we were greeted with views of seemingly endless squatter camps, hundreds of idle people waiting around for something to happen, and even a stocky Highlands man close fisted beating a woman while dragging her by the hair. This must be a normal enough scene because none of the hundred or so people nearby, did anything but watch. Im sure that we didn't get a completely accurate view of the “true” Moresby, but after a few days of sitting around in this environment, it was past time to get going on a new adventure.
Sliding down to the end of the Dragon's Tail, ending up in Alotau, we found what looked to be the perfect staging area for our somewhat ambitious adventure. Starting out in Alotau, we had planned to cross the famous Owen Stanly Range over to the road less North Coast. By means of hiking, taking banana boats, dugouts, piggyback rides, and by whatever means necessary, it was our idea to make it all the way from Alotau in the Milne Bay Province, to Lae in the Marobe Province. There was only one giant obstacle that would keep us from heading out into the wilds of PNG asap. Easter! And 3 to 4 days of it! Not only had religious colonialism beat us to another country, stripped the locals of their ass-grass and replaced it with t-shirts spouting something about saving trees and eating beavers, they had somehow talked these people into shutting absolutely everything down for 4 days just to celebrate something that a hairy, foreign dim dim (white man), did in some know it all book. Because of this, we were relegated to sitting around and chatting with the confused expat population, while sampling the local Hop Juice (Hop Sap to some) at regular intervals. But, don't for a second think that Easter in the “safest town in PNG” makes for a dull place. During the holiday alone, two incidents occurred in Alotau, and interestingly enough, they originated at the pub where we were staying. Nothing like the news of an armed robbery and a murder to keep your senses keen. Throw in a few wasted drunk drivers and you have yourself a well rounded Easter holiday. All was good though, by Tuesday, there was nothing that could keep us from our adventure!
What a difference a parasite makes. The arrival of Tuesday didn't bring the promise of adventure like we had hoped. Instead, it brought intense headaches, aching muscles, nausea, diarrhea, and a general desire to do nothing but roll over, moan, and fight the urge to empty the meager contents of my stomach onto the tile. A quick (3 hour) outing to visit my first 3rd world hospital and a finger prick, revealed that although I was taking prophylaxis, I had somehow picked up a nasty case of Malaria. So began our revised adventure in wonderland. While I spent the majority of my time as described above and in and out of the hospital, my attorney focused his attention to keeping me alive. For not having Malaria himself, Im certain that The Benn knows more about the parasite and how to cure it, than most western doctors do. If it wasn't for his quick thinking and expert negotiating skills, I may still be writhing around in an incoherent drooling pile. Doing what we decided was probably the smartest thing we could have done in that particular situation, we decided that it was in our best interest to get to a country with a somewhat reputable health care system. Using his unparalleled and suave negotiating skills, my attorney talked the stone wall of an airline agent into getting us on the first flight to Singapore. With some reservation, we gave up our plans of high adventure in the wilds of New Guinea to take a six hour flight just to get lost in the giant shopping mall that is Singapore. What next?
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Brodie
non-member comment
sorry about yer luck
Man that's a whole lot of awful man. Sorry about your luck. It's good the doctor was in attendance. Hope Singapore goes better. Watch out for the underage sex slaves. I hear they can be quite persuasive...take care brothers.