Understanding Contrasts

PNG News : Understanding Contrasts
January 24, 2005

:“What” is not to understand and “what” is to understand or not is not to understand that even when “what” is understood, it is not understood, for “what” is to understand and “what” is not to understand, “what” is “what” and “is not” is “is not”, and so is not to understand not wanting to understand or simply not understanding why “what” needs to be understood or whether “what” can be understood; and also it is not understood whether “what” is really not understood or that it simply hasn’t been rendered so that it can be understood or is really understood but that there is a pretense not to understand or a refusal to try to understand yet deliberately not understanding or actually trying unsuccessfully to understand, then so what if it’s not understood and if it’s not understood, then why go to all this trouble of wanting to understand it----‘:
In an Instant, Xingjian, Gao, 2004 Buying a Fishing Rod for my Grandfather, Harpers Collins NY

I continue to play with understanding how different PNG is with Bali. Friday afternoon, Christine and I took an early weekend and went to Jais Aben Resort for a swim. (And yes, the sea lice are biting at this time.) Christine wanted to know about the Bali trip.

Leslie, the resort’s Australian dive master suggested that she take all her staff to Bali in order to understand customer service. These are truly opposite countries- the attention to detail in food, dress and art products. Aesthetic defines Bali. From a visitor’s perspective PNG has a certain Melanesia ugliness, an example the red/brown buai spit you see in the streets. I see no evidence of attention to detail or aesthetic. In Bali food is an exquisite treat for the tastebuds using sambal- a combination of chili, onion and garlic in a shrimp paste to warm up rice and fish. In PNG the mumu, food steamed with heated stones under banana leaves and sand, has its charms but not the same response from ones taste buds. I have put pictures Bali beside PNG, perhaps this shows the difference, and perhaps not.

In Bali the girls have rice on their faces, in PNG this Tolai girl has sand in her hair Although the social situations differ at the beach for these girls, the contrast in dress between Bali and PNG is indicative of what I observe.

A boy in Bali is washing his cow in the ocean and a man in PNG Highlands will soon eat his lizard.

In Bali there is an absolute passion for the process of growing rice and eating it. Birthday celebrations can be a special cone of rice cooked in coconut milk. Viewing the graceful beauty of the lush emerald green world of floating rice terraces lined with shady slender shrines makes you respect the cultivation of the grain, if not worship it.

In PNG they love eating their rice too, however it is imported from Australia. It is sago that they spend their time on finding it in the tropical rain forest and then painstakingly wash it and grind it to a kindof paste nd then custard texture.

In Bali there is a celebration of the book and learning, always with women making flower offerings. PNG, celebrates education that is derived from the missionaries and Australia, the bible not necessarily learning.

Kids will be kids, wherever they are. The total population of each island are pretty similar, however the average family in Bali is two children and the average in PNG is at least double that figure. In Rabaul on East New Britain Island, the average family is six children.

The top of the mountain is typically spiritual, however on Mt. Batur in Bali amongst the monkeys there is a shrine and one of the guides proceeded to pray in the early morning mist. Typical of the commerce, there was also a hut selling hot coffee and noodles and another person selling cold Coca Cola. On Mt. Wilhelm one feeds the guide bringing food for oneself and the locals.

Bali has an impressive infrastructure of roads and electricity throughout the country. Families with their two small children travel on motorcycles throughout the island. My favourite Bali memory, that I have no photo of, is a 4 year old wearing sunglasses in the front looking like he is driving the motorbike. PNG has dirt roads, significant power problems and people travel on foot, in the back of open trucks or vans, or by banana boat.

I had been so pro-Bali, I was blind to the treatment of West Papuans in Irian Jaya (which shares the same island with PNG). I travelled through that part of Indonesia for only a couple of days and was impressed by the good prices and big city ways of Jayapura. What I failed to notice was that the people in jobs were from Indonesia and not indigenous Papuans, who are not being educated or given chances to improve. The idea that Papua New Guineans are actually better off than Papuans is mind-boggling.

As I stay in PNG longer, I grow increasingly impatient with Australia’s interventions. I watch Australia operate as if its neighbours are alien to themselves and its allies- Britain and the US are a long way. They, like other countries, have security fears from the so called ‘clash of civilizations’ or ‘the rest against the west’ paranoia and need their neighbour PNG for security reasons. In its national pride, its independent and isolationist nature, I don’t see Australia trying to understand itself or being self-critical. I tend to consider Australia part of PNG’s problem.

It is rainy season here, and registration for term one is today. There continues to be so much to understand.

PNG News -Mother Nature’s Bad Mood
February 12, 2005

I just finished reading Salamon Rushdie’s “Beneath Her Feet.” It’s the only thing I could do as I battled an amazing cold attack on my system. I could not stop dripping. Near the end of the book Rushdie suggests that earthquakes are the ultimate weapon of mass disruption. Clever, isn’t he?

There has indeed been a whole lot of shaking going on. There was my sneezing, wheezing, violent thunderstorms and chess playing and now that I have finally decided to leave this hot country I will attempt to treasure my last 60 days in PNG. I hope to leave the country on April 15th, visit Travis for a couple of days and then spend a month in China with Janet and Rob. I should be back in BC by late May or early June. So if anyone is thinking to visit, better do it soon.

I spent the last week in a seminary, in the Highlands near Mt. Hagan recovering from my cold and working with the lecturers. Everyone was a father, a brother, a nun or a cook. I now know more than I have ever wanted to know about missionary work. The new Polish Rector hopes to have everyone wearing black leather shoes to chapel by the end of his term. Sister Miriam, an Irish Australian, who is a good match in Scrabble, thought maybe I was a lapsed nun.

Fr. Chiro, an Italian father and a demanding dean of studies and is attempting to raise the standards and bring nationals into the seminary. All these men have studied in Rome, but Chiro is in constant communication with the place.

Fr. Robert, was the chaplain from DWU is now in Hagan his birthplace. He took Isabella and I around the market today, before I left. The market is the best in PNG.

Next Saturday is graduation again. The year has gone fast.

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