Days of Our Lives

Life in the village makes soap operas believable.

First, there was the tale of the teachers who had gone to Port Moresby to get school supplies. They were gone five weeks, and daily gossip centered around the weather and if they’d be able to get a dinghy back or not. Old stories of overturned dinghies and lost lives were repeated, to keep an appropriate level of suspense at all times. Then the news came in that some of the teachers were in prison! More gossip flew around the village, but an alcohol fueled incident was the most likely cause of any time locked up.

When the teachers did eventually come back, everyone was on the river bank to meet them. They had brought betel nut, and were throwing it piece by piece to the waiting crowd. A riot just about ensued and people jostled to catch a piece. Returning to their homes, the teachers had gifts for their family and friends, from the bounty of cargo available in Moresby. Someone had brought a generator and fuel, so lights and music continued though the night.

School did not resume for another week after the teachers returned, as first there needed to be a village court to resolve an issue of two students wanting to marry the same teacher. In PNG, students in primary school can easily be in their late teens, so although this is  against the law (so I was told), the age gap is not as big as it would be in Australia. In the end, both girls remained students, the teacher will be transferred elsewhere next year, compensation was paid and a reconciliation meal was held.

Love rivalries and multiple marriages make up a fair portion of the village soap opera. In my own village family there were three mothers. Add to that multiple adoptions within the family and I have a confused idea of who is the genetic or adoptive parents of whom. It took me long enough to work out who slept in our house each night (11 people) and how they are fitted together!

For a soap opera, the level of tragedy would be acceptable, but this is real life and some things are a harsh reality. One small child in a neighbouring village drowned in the river. Another small child, who had been sickly since birth, died a few hours after his parents fought and his father stormed off to be with his second wife elsewhere. This later proved to be the same man who was so drunk that when he was towed home in his canoe, he was oblivious to the rain pouring down on him. A young father died, leaving his wife and small children. The yelling and thumps heard from across the village speak of domestic violence in multiple homes.

There is also the comedy of the village soap opera. My village brother was in a band in the 90s, and apparently they’re getting the band back together. I can’t help but smile every time I hear that phrase. Small stories become big events, with all sorts of development just over the horizon and the streets to soon be paved with gold. One day I heard people talking seriously of a university being established in the area. Seeing as the primary school has been closed for six weeks while the teachers were away, I somewhat doubt the likelihood of a university being a success. My personal favourite was the highway that was to be built all the way to Cairns, and from there to Australia. Never mind that Australia starts a few thousand kilometres before Cairns!

The side show to the village soap opera is the reality TV star- me. I may not have a camera watching me, but I do have plenty of eyes observing me and reporting what I do. Being watched all the time is exhausting, but I am the local entertainment and accept it as part of my job description. I was once told that a colleague had applied to go on Survivor, but been rejected because she would have been too good at it. With all our practical jungle survival skills and our experienced at being endlessly observed, I can believe the story to be true.

Like mud between your toes on a muddy path in rainy season, these are the days of our lives.

PS I am writing these blog posts with limited internet access and scheduling them for the coming weeks. Photos will be added later when better internet is available.