Yams, sex and cricket (in that order) - PNG part 3

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We knew when arriving in PNG that it had a number of cultural groups and over 800 languages. It really took us our whole visit to understand what that means. Each of the places we visited has an entirely different way of living meaning that anything we learned in one area is not necessarily true in the other areas, it was really like visiting 3 different countries. It also means that there is virtually no national identity (except when it comes to the national Rugby League team of course) and loyalties and allegiances are to the tribe and not the country as a whole. This makes the national political situation particularly challenging because for the most part no ones primary concern is the country as a whole.



The Trobriand Islands (or “Trobs” as the locals and I refer to them) are “famous” because early in the 20^th century a Polish anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski landed there and lived with the people for several years. In fact, when the first world war broke out he was stuck in the trobs as he was a citizen of the Austro-Hungarian empire that was at war with Australia. He wrote a couple of books about the people and the culture of the Trobs which Europeans found quite titillating given their rather racy titles such as “The invasion of compulsory sex morality”.



We landed to a somewhat familiar scene of hundreds of people outside to meet the plane. We walked out of the fenced area and quickly became the only two white faces in a sea of black. Having grown up white and middle class in a white middle class kind of place I always find it an interesting experience to be a very visually obvious minority. There is something very humbling about it for me. When we were planning where to go for Christmas we considered a lot of places in Asia and the South Pacific and everywhere we looked lots of flights were full, resorts booked etc because it was so last minute and Christmas. When we picked PNG, flights were full and really expensive so we assumed it would be a heavy tourist season. Turns out…no. It turns out that there are rarely, well never, lots of tourists in PNG and it particularly is not a Christmas destination. In any case, we had contacted the Trobs to book a lodge because, well, there are only two of them and we wanted to make sure we had a place to stay. I had actually spoken with a guy on the phone but was somewhat skeptical of whether we had a booking or not. Well, who should arrive promptly as we deplane but Kenneth a representative of our hotel. He was quite confused for two reasons. First of all he had understood that I would be arriving with my husband or boyfriend but instead there was just us two girls. Secondly, he was confused because he was supposed to be picking up 3 tourists and only two white people got off the plane. He was so surprised when the third guest- a tall black guy of West Indian origin but from Canada – introduced himself. Apparently out of the limited tourist population lesbian couples and tall black guys are not the most common.



Kenneth and our driver – nicknamed Dollar – transported us the few minutes to the lodge. They provided us with a refreshing drink and an introduction to the lodge and got us sorted with room keys etc. Then they told us that they hadn’t had any tourists for a while and when there is no one there they just close the lodge down so they were just getting things back up and running. They also asked if we could pay a deposit for our rooms so that they could arrange for things like gas in the van to drive us around and food for us. I believe one of the top 10 rules of travel is not to fall for lines like that because they are almost always a scam. However, in this case it was clear that this was not a scam but rather a sad comment on the state of the economy, price of goods, and lack of tourist infrastructure. While getting settled we met the manager of the resort – Edric (I’m telling you this for a reason).

We were also meant to stay at the lodge one night and do a village stay on the other night as Lonely Planet had suggested that this is what one does when one visits the Trobs. Kenneth told us that maybe we could do a village stay but that maybe they hadn’t heard from the village and maybe the facilities weren’t what we might need and maybe we would decide later if maybe we wanted to do that or maybe not. At one point I managed to get him to say that there wouldn’t be any toilet facilities in the village. Now, to be clear I have been camping many a time with no toilet facilities. And, when you have a bladder like mine, drink water as much as I do, and spend hours on a mountain bike, peeing in the bushes is not something you are shy of. However, in a village that is full of other people…other people who also do not have toilet facilities… in the dark with massive bugs…we were unenthusiastic. It would have been cool to stay in a village but we had seen (and would see) a number of villages and huts, we had already slept in open air with bug infestations, we had interacted with lots of local people…we figured this was an experience we could skip.



It was about 1 pm and they announced that we would go for a swim at a swimming hole before lunch to give them time to buy and make lunch etc. This worried me slightly as we had had breakfast at about 6 am. But I ate my granola bar and went along with the plan. Kenneth told us that the swimming pool was on his brother John’s property. This struck us as odd that we were just going to some guys house to go swimming but hey that’s how travelling goes. Well, it turns out that “Kennth’s brother John” is the Paramount Chief of the Trobriand Islands, meaning that he’s the head chief of the group of all the chiefs in the Trobs. John was educated in Australia, has a masters degree from Australia, is an artist and poet and international business man and can use words like “fungible” correctly in a sentence. He was absolutely fascinating.



He was telling us about how Trobs culture revolves around the yam and yam harvest (although its not their staple food – the Taro really is) but that with the growth of the population (approximately 40,000 on the populated three islands) the harvest is unsustainable. Currently people slash and burn a plot to plant and then cut a new plot the next year to allow the other to fallow. However, there is only so much good land on these islands. In addition, since yams are a climbing plant they require a small stick to climb when they are small, then a larger and eventually a third size stick when they grow big. In all this means that people in the Trobs are cutting down 3 million trees per year for yam sticks. Yup, you read that number right! Clearly not sustainable. In the western world there would be a great plastic/alloy extendable yam stick business opportunity here. However, the market is small and resources and facilities and the potential buyers surely cannot afford any purchased solution. So, he and others are really trying to find ways to feed the population in a more sustainable way. Yam houses are in all the villages with the chief’s yam house being the largest and most ornate. In years gone by they were full of yams for much of the year. Now with population increase they can barely feed themselves never mind storing for later so these yam houses are now empty.



The reason that I know he can use the word fungible correctly is that he showed us a piece of shaped rock that is a traditional piece of currency. He believes it to be over a thousand years old. The assigned value of that rock is the value of an island that he also owns which is a coconut plantation of significant size. Years ago the chief before him asked him to take the rock to a Dutch master stonemason in Port Moresby to have it smoothed out because it was created by flaking layers of rock off and therefore isn’t smooth. John left the rock with the stonemason for a few weeks to have the work done. Luckily, when he returned the stonemason returned the rock to him, in its original condition, and instead of smoothing it, he had created a beautiful wooden box to hold the artifact and keep it safe.



One of the most fascinating things about the Trobs (and some of the other cultures in PNG) is that it is matrilineal. I’m no cultural anthropologist (I realize that probably no one has mistaken me for one, but just in case…) but I will attempt to explain what that means in the Trobs, I don’t know if it means the same thing everywhere. What it <em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">doesn’t mean is that a woman becomes chief. It means that clan, property, title etc is handed down through the mother’s side. So, the current chief John, has a number of brothers and sisters. The next chief will not be John’s oldest son…Edric…, it will be the son of John’s oldest sister. So, it passes from uncle to nephew. Men belong to the clan of their mother not their father. As an interesting outcome of this John’s son, Edric, comes from the top clan on the island the clan of the chiefs, however his mother is from the lowest clan so Edric belongs to the lowest clan. He grew up with privilege, was educated in Australia and has a number of obligations and rituals because he’s the son of the chief (2 examples: he can’t eat certain kinds of red emperor fish because they are greedy fish and always trying to feed before other fish and that is not an appropriate symbol for a chief who should ensure his people are fed first. He also can’t eat one of the staple vegetables because its considered a commoners food. It’s on the table at most meals and he’s never tasted it). But on the flip side he also is prevented from a number of rituals because he is from a low clan. I think he’s not allowed to wear a certain decorative feather when he wears traditional dress. Where are the women in all this you may ask? What they told us is that although John is the chief it is his obligation to ensure that his eldest sister and her family are provided for. The work he does is for her.



Interestingly John has an older brother but he is deaf and can’t speak so John was made chief instead. They also know who the next two chiefs in line are. The subtext of several conversations has lead us to believe they are not so optimistic about the next guy!



This whole conversation was had while sitting outside his house, us in our bathing suits and towels and him shirtless in a pair of shorts, eating papaya. As a side note, if you put lime (the fruit this time, not crushed coral) on papaya it actually makes it taste good. Let’s not forget the stated purpose of this outing – the swimming hole. It is a beautiful, cool, little pool in a cave that is obviously fed from some freshwater spring. Temperature outside=bloody hot, temperature in pool = 17C. Of course we are not the only ones who like that swimming hole. We clearly ticked off every kid in the village when our hosts kicked all the kids out for an hour or two so the tourists could swim (and then we sat chatting nowhere near the pool for most of the time – how typically infuriating adult behavior!). When the leaders of the Pacific Nations met in the Trobs a few years ago they also all went swimming in this hole. You know, the presidents and prime ministers etc of Fiji, Samoa, etc just scampered over the slippery rock and jumped in as you do at major political meetings.



We stopped in the village on our way out and had a look at the yam house. A big yam house is a status symbol and traditionally should be fully stocked at the harvest with yams stored for the future. These days with the low yields there are not enough yams and the houses sit empty most of the year. Local carvers were quick to pull out their carving to display for us. The Trobs are famous for their carving. One of the items they are most famous for is intricately carved walking sticks. When I asked if the walking sticks were a traditional item they laughed and said “no, white people need them to walk around so we started making them 50 years ago”. I was intrigued by the women’s earrings which are made from turtle shell. The little girls get their ears pierced very young – a couple of days or weeks old. Then as they get older they put more and more earrings in. Some of the women have earlobes that are very stretched out (they’d be the envy of many ear-stretching westerners) or even split right through (a warning to ear-stretching westerners).



By the time we returned from our outing and they finished making lunch it was about 4 pm. Not ideal. Knowing that dinner was at 7 pm I tried to restrain myself but tore pretty hardily into the food. I have to say that for the most part the food on our trip was really good but a few of the things in the Trobs were not my favorite. This lunch included tinned beef, which is incredibly popular in PNG. I assumed it would be terrible and it turns out I was right! However, I am kind of glad we ate it because its one of the most common foods in PNG and it would be like coming to Australia and not eating vegemite just because you know its going to be awful! After lunch we went to shower and get ready for dinner (now we’re on my kind of eating schedule!). As I was about to get into the shower I discovered an enormous and very strange-looking blue bug in the bathroom. Shelagh has proven to be utterly unhelpful in these situations. I really don’t understand how I’ve ended up with the role of protecting us from dangerous multi-legged creatures but I have (I don’t feel so bad that I’ve made her be responsible for all aspects of technology in our lives – technology is scary but its much less likely to bite, sting or poison you than the creatures I’m faced with). I managed to whack the thing decisively with a shoe. After getting out of the shower I discovered a large spider (or what I perceived at the time to be a large spider – probably 2 inch diameter) on the table and had to repeat the shoe trick. After putting on some clothes – yes all this valiancy was conducted while either preparing to shower or immediately after showering so I was not dressed how one might hope to be dressed for deeds of daring! – I went to the lodge and told them about the scary things in the room. They came to take a look, clear them away, and spray the room with bug spray. Turns out the blue thing is some kind of tropical wasp- and yes it stings in a serious way. Skipping ahead briefly, Shelagh returned to the room a while before I did after dinner. She informed me that there was a big spider on the window directly beside the bed, but it was ok because she had shut the window. I demonstrated to her that the windows don’t actually “shut” but that the slats just rotate to be more or less wide open. And then I pulled back the blind to where she had seen the spider. It turns out that the spider I had seen earlier was not a large spider, it was in fact a very small spider. THIS was a large spider. It was probably 6 inches in diameter and still sitting on the window about 8 inches from where my belly button would be all night. I freaked out. This is not within my bug killing abilities. I went to the lodge again and told them. They came to the room to save us. I’m okay with my fear of giant bugs and don’t feel like I have anything to prove (I like to think I was quite a bit calmer seeing bears while biking 4 times this summer than these folks might have been) however it does make you feel like a bit of a baby (aka ridiculous white lady) when the woman who is older and smaller than you takes a Kleenex and simply grabs the giant bug who made you almost wet your pants. I was now officially unhappy with the number of scary bugs in our room.



So, backing up a bit, the Trobs culture is renowned for a few things other than yams – the “Kula” trading ring, their shall we say free-spirited approach to sexual relationships, and cricket. Unfortunately, these days it’s tough for a tourist to get a chance to see many of these things in daily life. Fortunately, several documentaries have been made about the Trobs and they have them on hand at the lodge. So, it’s a bit weird to go on holiday and spend time watching documentaries about the place you are visiting but it’s better than not getting to see these things. So, we spent a few hours that first evening watching documentaries. I will attempt to explain my understanding of these 3 things derived from the documentaries and conversations with the locals. In case you didn’t catch it, our two hosts at the lodge, who we ended up spending a great deal of time with, are the brother and son of the most important man in the Trobs. They are well educated, interesting men with a great deal of knowledge about their islands and culture and who speak excellent English. In terms of sources of information about a place you are travelling you couldn’t do better anywhere! The caveat is that their expertise is no guarantee of my correct understanding so any inaccuracies in this text rest solidly on my shoulders not theirs.

1. Kula Ring. The Trobs and neighboring islands (neighboring meaning next inhabited, not necessarily meaning particularly close distance-wise) have a long-established trading ring called the Kula Ring. Basically it is about forming relationships of trust with trading partners on other islands. But the way it works is essentially there are two types of jewelry that are traded, necklaces and armbands. I can’t remember which is which but basically the necklaces move one direction around the islands (clockwise or counter clockwise, you know what I mean) and the armbands go the other way. So for example a bunch of men from one island get their armbands and jump in their boats and head out to the next island in the kula ring. When they get there they meet with their “kula partner” on that island. Here it gets quite confusing as they seem to trash talk each other (us cricket fans call it “sledging”) about how they never get anything good from the other one, how they are late, etc. If your partner has stayed loyal with you they will give you a bunch of necklaces and you give them your armbands and then head on your way. However, people will sneak in and trade with your partner and then he won’t have anything to give you. There are some armbands and necklaces that are better than others and getting those is a big deal. And on it goes. This has been going on for a really long time and is the way these islands stayed in touch, kept politically stable between them, etc. And it’s not quite as simple as jumping in a boat and heading out, as you may have guessed. These are large “kula canoes” but they are basically big dug out boats with sails. The distances can be quite large and the seas can be very rough. It’s quite dangerous and often boats are lost. It doesn’t happen very often these days for obvious reasons.



2. Sex. I know, the world has been waiting a long time for me to write a blog about sex. Basically, Trobs culture is free-lovin. Young people, male and female for a refreshing change, are encouraged to have sex with multiple people before settling down. In fact, if a young girl gets pregnant, her family takes care of the child while she is out continuing to “socialize”. People do settle down and sometimes that means long-term monogamy but more often it means either serial monogamy or long term relationships with one or both partners having multiple affairs. Yam harvest time in particular is apparently a crazy sex free-for-all! Of all the vegetables, are yams the one that does it for you? I realize that if you take this at face value it is, in fact, what happens in western culture also (people either settle down or down and cheat or don’t). However, the difference is the ratio of the types of relationships and the openness with which it is discussed and the moral judgments placed on the behaviors. It is a culture that is very comfortable with sex. So, feel free to form your own opinions. Whatever your thoughts on this there is an obvious unfortunate modern reality to this lifestyle which is an incredibly high rate of HIV/Aids. There are current efforts to educate the population, particularly the young people. What I think is interesting is that in a culture where people are free to talk about sex, educating them about STI’s should be easy and they do seem to be promoting condoms rather than abstinence (that would get you laughed off the island I think you silly white person). BUT, the flipside is a culture with a strong traditional belief in witchcraft/shamanism. Modern medicine has a very loose hold in PNG in general and certainly in the Trobs. (Side note, when we were at Nuli Sapi they were telling us that things like type 2 Diabetes -which is becoming a very common problem now that people are leaving their traditional diets and consuming all the sugary crap white people invented – are not treated as medical problems but as curses, etc so people don’t get treatment or pursue any kind of prevention). So, mix this with low education levels in the Trobs and it is an uphill battle to prevent HIV. Another funny thing about this free love culture is that I get the sense that numerous tourists have heard about these islands and headed over hoping to get involved in the festivities only to be laughed away. The fit, bronzed islanders are not so interested in our pasty white flesh.

3. Cricket. The Trobs have never been so keen on colonization, which I will come back to later and their response to the introduction of cricket is awesome. Basically they thought it was a silly game, kinda boring, a bit elitist and such. So, they adapted it to fit their culture. One village or clan challenges another so it’s high stakes. First of all there is no limit to the number of players on a team/on the field. The only restriction is that the visiting team sets the number of players and the home team must match it. This can mean there are 50 fielders on a side. Then, those players must be dressed in traditional clothing – not traditional cricket whites, traditional Trobs clothing (like in the pictures of the dancers). The teams march onto the field in a formation particular to their team. Trash talking is not only tolerated, it is a key part of the game. Celebration is crucial. So, anytime your team does well and/or the other team does poorly there is a chant/cheer/song accompanied by dance. When the ball gets completely lost in the jungle that’s a six! (homerun equivalent for the non-cricket fans out there). We did watch a famous anthropological documentary titled: “Trobriand Cricket: An Ingenious Response to Colonialism.” Exciting stuff!



As mentioned, there are very few tourists a year to the Trobs, but this is all about to change as one of the major cruise lines has just begun running a cruise that will stop in 3 or 4 places in PNG including the Trobs. The first boat came in November. You can imagine the mayhem when 2000 westerners walk off the boat onto an island that wouldn’t get anywhere near 2000 people in a year. In many ways its great because it gives the islanders a market for their carvings, bags, fruit and other goods and gives so many people access to a country they wouldn’t otherwise visit. The lack of tourist infrastructure however might present significant problems. A new wharf had to be built at the cost of millions of dollars. It will get used a few times a year. Locals refer to it as a $6 million diving platform for kids.



One sad fact of subsistence living is that some species of animal that many of us believe should be protected are not. Some people on the mainland had told us that boats from other countries (Chinese and Malaysia) come in looking for shark fin and locals go out shark finning. Others told us this isn’t true and that local people might catch the shark and sell the fins to those traders but they would keep the shark and use all of it because the protein would be too valuable to discard. The other animal that we were sad to see on sale for food is turtle. We saw a sea turtle whose shell was probably 1.5-2 ft diameter lying on land, upside down, in the hot sun, alive but not for long, waiting for sale in the market. Turtles live a long time so this was probably a 50 year old turtle. Beside it was another that had been chopped into saleable pieces – a leg/fin, hunk of body meat, etc. Apparently this one is contentious among locals too.



Climate change, if you believe in that sort of thing (like 99% of scientists and other smart people do) is already starting to have an impact in the Trobs. There are a couple of very low-lying small islands near the one that we were on that have already become submerged and the people living there have been evacuated to the Trobs to live. Edric was talking about the coconut plantation island that the chief had told us about. Essentially it grows coconuts and anyone (maybe anyone in their clan or village or something I’m not exactly sure who) is allowed to come pick them to eat. I’m making up the numbers because I forget the actual numbers but it’s something like you used to have to dig 6 feet to get to water on that island and now you only have to dig 2 feet. Scary.



During the war there were bases located in the Trobs and a fair bit of military garbage left over when the war ended. However, some enterprising person came in and salvaged as much of the metal as possible so the only visible wreckage is the hull of a plane.



On our second day we went on a bit of a tour of the island with Kenneth, Edric and Dollar. We headed to the most popular beach on the island. Apparently someone had started a rumour that there was a cruise ship docking that day so there were an unbelievable number of people around…with their carvings…hoping to sell them…to the thousands of people…who turned out to be just the two of us. Needless to say we were very popular. One of the good things about PNG is that the locals are not pushy about selling their wares. Here they definitely made an effort to get our attention but its not like markets in other parts of the world where people can be quite aggressive and intimidating. The other good thing is that there is, in fact, some very lovely carving work. Shelagh likes to buy masks from all the places we visit but the coast/islands of PNG are not a mask culture (the highlands are) so we bought a carving that can be hung on the wall with our masks.

The most amazing thing about the beach was the kids. There were little children everywhere playing in the water. They were very curious about us and were very happy to have their picture and video taken. The word for white person or foreigner is “dim dim” which is quite hilarious I think. The little kids would yell “Dim Dim, Dim Dim” as we walked by. At one point a little guy said to me “Hello Dim Dim” so I said “Hello local boy”. His friends thought I had said “Hello naked boy” (which would of course have been accurate) so they ran around yelling “Hello naked boy” “Hello naked boy”! [youtube=<a style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;" href="

had let Edric and Kenneth know that we were really interested in seeing people in traditional clothes, dancing etc. In most places I think tourists would be kindly told that there wasn’t any cultural celebrations happening so they were out of luck. Not in the Trobs! They arranged a demonstration of traditional women’s work and a show for us.



The women showed us how they make the grass skirts that they traditionally wore. They are surprisingly intricate, durable and well-made considering they are literally made from leaves. The other thing that women do is make a traditional currency. It is a very long process of cutting leaves, scraping them with a specific design, drying them, grouping them together, etc. I still can’t wrap my head around this how you can simply sit down, create an object and then a value is applied to it and it can be exchanged for goods and services. The answer is that it is not the physical value of the currency (like gold for example) but a representation of the work that went into it. I get that, it takes a lot of work to create this currency, but I still don’t understand how the guy that sells fish accepts this currency in exchange for fish and so on. Anyway, women spend a fair amount of time doing this and it is considered a vital skill. In fact, in some ways it is not the currency that is valuable, it is the fact that you know how to make it. A woman who does not learn this and does not put the time in and therefore does not have this currency (even if she had hard currency) will not have any respect in the community. The men made it quite clear that it would not be acceptable if their wives did not do this.



As for the show, there were about 10 dancers and a few musicians/singers. They were all local youth (including the kids of the staff at the hotel). It was fantastic. You could tell from the look of a mix of boredom/embarrassment on a couple of the boys faces that they were just like teenage boys anywhere and were not entirely thrilled to be asked to perform for these Dim Dim. They did a couple of traditional dances for us and then came the audience participation part of the night…they asked us to dance. So, we did our best but it probably doesn’t need to be said that we do not have the rhythm or hip movement of these island people. The traditional clothing is quite amazing. It is not impressive in terms of the amount of material involved (or maybe impressive because of the lack of material involved) but it is interesting how good people can look in clothes made from leaves. They obviously take a lot of pride in how they look when dressed this way.



We only spent a couple days in the Trobs before heading back to Port Moresby again on our way home. It is weird how a place that had seemed so foreign a few weeks ago felt oddly familiar as we drove through it on our way back to the same hotel we stayed at before. It was late afternoon when we arrived so we decided to venture out of the hotel for dinner. But remember, we are not actually allowed to venture out. So, instead of going to one of the posh restaurants in the big hotels we decided to go to the restaurant in the hotel across the street from ours. Across the street. They didn’t really want us to walk on our own. Across the street. In daylight. So the guards watched us the whole way. We made it safely, had a nice dinner and walked all the way home by ourselves too!

In the morning the hotel took us to the botanic gardens which are actually quite impressive and hold a number of animals in addition to plants. The animal highlight is the bird of paradise which is the nation bird of PNG. We did see a few but they were being quite shy and also did not have their spectacular colours displayed.



We arrived “home” in Sydney on October 28. We both cheered when the pilot announced that it was 22 C in Sydney. It felt nice to be back to something that felt familiar and predictable and less hot. We both feel like we sort of missed Christmas so we popped a bottle of champers (really, it doesn’t take much to convince us to drink champers) and listened to Christmas carols while we settled back in. Shelagh was really feeling that she had missed xmas dinner so I agreed to make her a turkey, etc. I went to the grocery store the next day and they had “precooked” turkey roast that had all the bones etc removed already and just needed to be heated. I thought that sounded like a perfect solution as I wanted the turkey dinner. but not really the turkey dinner hassle. I also scoured the grocery store for stovetop stuffing (I know, I know, sacrilege!) but apparently it does not exist in this country. I also bought gravy granules which I had never even heard of until a friends dog ate a package of them and was making several liters of gravy in his stomach! Well, it turns out that precooked turkey roast is NOT a perfect solution. It was really quite terrible. It tasted like the salt and chemicals they must have injected it with. The gravy granules made a tolerable gravy and its hard to go wrong with roast potatoes. We of course washed this all down with some good champers so we survived. Needless to say we are both looking forward to Christmas dinner next ye

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Photos

Yam House
These used to be full to the rafters. Now, sadly they lie empty as they can barely grow enough food to get by.

Yam plants
Who knew they got so tall. Sweet potatoes grow along the ground, but Yams grow really tall.

Carvings in the hotel
All the carvings tell a different story.

Easiest way of carrying?
Maybe try this on the way home from Safeway.

The 6 million dollar diving dock
3 P&O ships a year...but 10,000 happy trob kids!

World War II wreckage
Just lying in the bushes near the hotel.

Dying turtle
Very sad...

Grass skirt anyone?
Short enough for you?

Out rigger canoeing
Heather's hips are a little wider than Trobrian men...

Dancing heather - available for $9.99 in a store near you.
Just like any other night in the Royal Hotel?

Cute kids everywhere
this one with a big knife...

Massive trees
The van gives perspective as to just how high the trees are. We had never seen anything like it!

Tree kangaroo
These only exist in PNG