PNG n Mi

I was back in Port Moresby recently.  If you read my last entry on the place, you’ll understand I had some trepidation about returning.  Not much has changed.  

Actually, that’s not quite true.  The Pacific Games are coming in some 70 days, so the whole city is getting a makeover with new roads and flyovers and stadiums and landscaping.  There are some new athletic looking sculptures that are in place, weight lifters and swimmers and the like. They are expecting 4000 athletes and 10000 visitors for the games.  One wonders where everyone is going to sleep since there are only a limited number of hotels, but they are doing their best to dress things up for the event.

The safety situation hasn’t really changed much.  I was still discouraged from walking anywhere.  Locals are still bickering with one another.  I read in the paper that one clan lost a pig and accused another clan of stealing it.  1 week later, 10 people are dead from both clans.  The killing was getting so bad, that the police chief went out and gave everyone a stern talking to.  “If I have to come back here one more time, there’s going to be consequences.”

There are worries about the local police barracks.  They are in a state of disrepair and there is not enough space for everyone.  They’ve been poorly maintained and there has been vandalism as well.  Everyone is waiting for money to come from somewhere.

You’d think the place was really poor, but there is tons of money here.  PNG has one of the fastest growing economies in the Pacific.  There is a ton of mineral, oil and lumber wealth.  I met two guys who work for the PNG central bank.  They were risk analysts and focused on investing PNG’s wealth overseas.  They took great pride in the fact they were protecting their country’s new found wealth, by investing it carefully and making the money grown.  But they send it all to places like Fiji or Australia or the US. They buy hotels or invest in other country’s infrastructure.  It is such a puzzle why the local police is clamoring for funds, but the government owns one of the best hotels in Suva.

   

Despite the no walking warnings, I did endeavor to get out one morning.  There was a monthly local craft market at the bottom of the hill that my hotel was on.  I mentioned I might walk down, and coworkers were leery.  They recounted stories of people jumping out of the bushes and mugging people.  I could, though, truly throw a rock from my hotel room and hit it.  I decided to risk it.  I mentioned to the hotel doorman and he said I should be safe since it was morning and well lit.  I think he let a guard know to keep an eye on my while I walked.

I only had a few dollars on me.  No phone. No credit card. No camera, but I did find myself on edge with every person I passed.  And there were a number of them.  This is a walking country.  People amble about.  And when they don’t amble they sit in whatever shade they can find.

 

But, nearly every person I passed bid me a good morning with a smile or paid me no mind.  No threat at all during my one minute out walking in public.

PNG is a country of 7 million people and over 800 distinct languages.  There are two main languages, English and a creole called Tok Pisin which is a mix of Indo-European and other languages.  It is a phonetic conglomeration.

I read book         IS            mi ritim buk.

I give money      IS            mi givim mani,

Child                      IS            pikinini

Today                    IS            tete

Tomorrow           IS            tumora

Perhaps my favorite phrase is the phrase for “I love you. “  It is “mi laikem yu tru.”  I may start using this in my everyday life. 

And finally, I’ll end with this letter to the editor I saw on my trip.  I think it speaks for itself.

A Tale of Two Airlines

Here’s a brief comparison of two very different airlines, SingaporeAirlines and Air Niugini.

Both are actually comparably priced.  Air Niugini has a pretty solid monopoly on the Papua New Guinea market, so they can charge whatever they want. My Singapore air flight was a short one, so it was cheaper.

Both airlines have a good amount of legroom for an average size adult. Much more than a US carrier.

Singapore Airlines economy seats adjust two different ways. There are adjustable foot rests hanging of the seat in front of you for extra for extra comfort.

Air Niugini seats have a small nubbin beneath the padding in the middle of the seat at the level of one’s thoraco-lumbar spine. It was in two different seats on a round trip.  It is impossible to sit comfortably without the nubbin poking you painfully. After 6-½ hours, it is a new level of airline seating discomfort.

There is a business class on Air Niugini that looks rather posh.  Economy class, though is set up to maximize the number of seats in the available space.  As a result the lavatories are placed along the side in the middle of the cabin and open directly onto the cabin.  The after effects of a planeload of digested airport food wafts into the open space with each opening of the door.  The only laminar air flow available only moves front to back. Even those of us 20 rows back suffer this design flaw.

The number of attendants on Singapore Air is impressive. They’re everywhere. And they still provides scented, steaming hot towels. Towels so hot, they’re issued with tongs.  When they march down the aisle, the odor of jasmine fills the cabin in a pleasing way.

One area where Air Niugini excels is their blankets.  They seem near full sized and are plush and cozy.  They’re long enough that one can be keep warm and place over one’s nose and mouth to act as a filter.

Both, airlines served equally unappealing food.  The chicken dish for both was bland and unfinish-able. Only the desserts warranted a second bit. I was expecting better from Singapore given their reputation.  If only Singapore Air would serve up those sweet-smelling towels.

P.S.  These are not photos I took.  I didn't think to take any at the time.  I found them on a website called Airplanefood.net which as near as I can tell is a website devoted to nothing but photos of airplane food.  I think I'm gonna join.

Follow the Rules

I had a conversation with a co-worker the other day.  She's Indonesian and an intrepid traveller.

She just got back from a trip to Japan and was remarking about how she managed to get all over Japan without speaking any Japanese.  She just had the train and bus schedules.  All she had to do was match the number of the route with the number on the side of the train and count the stops to get off.  The Japanese have transport down and the schedule is king!

"It was SO easy and SO fast to get around.  I couldn't believe it!  Why can't Jakarta be like this? Well, maybe it will be better in 60 years!"

I told her that Hong Kong had come a long way in the last 40 years, so there was hope.

"Hong Kong, eh?  Well, they had the British.  They brought a lot of order and fairness and efficiency"

I didn't want to point out that there were people in Africa and India that might disagree with her.

"We had the Dutch and you know they brought corruption and bad deals!"

I'm not up enough on my Indo/Dutch history, and I didn't want to inflame things by arguing that the Dutch had been gone for 60 years.  And  I also didn't want to point out that the Netherlands full of Dutch people, is clean and efficient, and is not known for its corruption.

Instead, I said, "The corruption is a drag on everything."

"Yes, yes.  You know?  I make a conscious effort every day to break as few rules as possible when I come to work.  Everyone does it, but I really try to follow the rules. Maybe we'll improve in 40 years."

That's the spirit

The Hits Just Keep Comin'!

In Suva, Fiji recently, going about my business and found myself in a musical worm hole.  

Fiji, it seems, is where pop music goes to die. The soundtrack of these islands is stocked with all the one hit wonders of yesteryear.  The restaurants, the bars, the groceries all wafting with The Motels, Chris Isaak and Lisa Lisa  and the Cult Jam.  

Lisa Lisa was still in heavy rotation for heaven’s sake!  I heard “All Cried Out” three times in four days.  

Yep. If you’re a hit maker of days gone by and wondering whatever became of your career, chances are your agent sold your rights to Fiji and you’re still a big star there.

And it’s not only American Pop.  It’s Hindi, too.  Got into a rough looking cab with music blaring and headed on my way.  The driver turned downed the volume on his radio.  “This music probably grates on your nerves”

“Mine? Not at all!  Turn it back up!  Is it Hindi pop?”

“Yes!  They don’t make songs like this any more!  Today’s songs, you can’t even understand what they’re saying.  It’s all THUMPA-Ticka-THUMPA-Ticka!”

“What’s she singing about?”

“Love, of course.  She says she’ll follow him anywhere.”

I guess the love part is universal.  Wanna know how you say “I’m all cried out in Hindi”?  It’s like this,...

 “Maiṁ sabhī bāhara rōyā hūm̐”

Speaking of hits,... I was hit by a bus.

Me and a friend in my little rental Corolla were waiting for a car in front of us to turn when we were rear ended by a mini-bus shuttle full of 10 unrestrained teenaged passengers.  “POW!” Totally out the blue.

It is amazing the number of thoughts you can have while your car spins around in the road.

 “Oh...My...God. I’m having an auto accident in a clearly developing country...What hit us?....  This is going to be complicated... I hope I’m not injured.....  I hope my friend is not hurt.... Can I still go fishing today?...  What are we going to eat for dinner if we can’t fish?...Why does my back hurt?

All that in half a revolution of a Toyota.

I’m fine.  My friend is fine. It is a pretty incredible feat given that the road is the major highway heavily plied by busses and trucks.  Every single teenager was fine, save for a tiny cut on one of their ankles. I swear those teenagers just kept piling out of the mini-bus like clowns from a circus car.

Sorting it out took some doing.  A traffic cop arrived via taxi cab shortly.  Took lots of measurements and drew sketches and hauled us all down to the local police station for statements and reports. The kids, we learned while waiting were all heading home from boarding school for Easter weekend.

Sign on Police room door.

The police interview room was filled with three desks and a computer.  The bulletin board covered in an interesting mix of crime trends and inspirational religious quotes. The officer wrote down my statement by hand and then hunted and pecked his way over the computer until he finished my report.  There was a printer, but no copier so we wandered next door to the courthouse which really was a small house. Their copier was unavailable.  Thankfully, I had my phone, so I just snapped some shots of the documents I needed.

The driver of the van, a commercial shuttle company, hadn’t yet picked up his license from the motor bureau yet.  Hmmm.  Let’s see if the company has insurance.

Here’s the final hit. I didn’t take the extra insurance that they’re always trying to sell at the rental agency, so I’m on the hook for the damage to my car. The very kind lady at Avis, says that because I didn’t take the insurance, I’m on the hook for up to 7000 Fijian dollars.  They’ll charge my credit card and I need to take it up with my own insurer and the credit card company about getting the money back from the bus company.  

Avis will, of course, provide all the documents I need, such as repair quotes and police reports and what have you, but the legwork is on me.  The Avis lady chided me a little bit.  “If you take the insurance, you walk away after a smaller payment amount.”

All the travel and finance people I’ve read  say, always decline the extra rental car insurance, it’s a waste of money. Your auto insurance and credit card will cover it.  This may be the case when you’re at home, but the lesson to consider is this. If you’re facing the prospect of getting your money back from Simi with his learner’s permit and his uncertainly insured shuttle bus company in a developing country 5000 miles away, it just may be worth the $12 bucks a day for the insurance.  

Something to keep in mind for the future.  I fear I may be All Cried Out by the end of this.