Letter 6 / 10 / 82
We are going through a bit of a rough patch health-wise. Hopefully by the time you get this we'll all be strong and well again.
Gastro-enteritis has swept through the kids here and on Darnley Island - but James came down with his usual cold, chesty cough ... which he has passed on to me. Peter's main problem is getting up too often at night to look after James. I'm so tired and achey today, but James keeps pulling me by the hand to make me stand up, then wanting to be carried around - no good just sitting down with him.
Last year apparently
I've got bread 'coming up' - no trouble getting it to rise here. I usually make two loaves and give one away - which usually results in a request for a bread-making lesson ... which provides a good contact. Although we are now surrounded by the people we came to serve, the family units are very close-knit and there's so much in-fighting its very hard to break into new families.
The other whites
We get on quite well with Dave, the single white school teacher here. He's only temporary, arrived just before us. There hasn't been a teacher here for over a year. The last fellow somehow upset island politics and it ended up with him and his family hiding in the bush fearing for their lives until a helicopter came and removed them. Then the Teacher's
Dave's a decent enough chap, despite his drinking and smoking. Many of the men, including our host Wilfred, had been making all sorts of excuses (especially now during school hols) to visit Dave for a couple of beers. Then Dave realised the trap he had fallen into and said his supply had run out. Monday was Margaret's birthday, and Wilfred went up to borrow some onions from Dave for the birthday barbecue. When he did not return instantly Margaret expected the worst and went and got him. He was drinking orange soft drink, she didn't believe him, he was very embarrassed and upset ... we found ourselves physically caught between them with Margaret screaming and Wilfred brandishing a knife. Very embarrassing all round! We prayed with them, things calmed down and the party went ahead - but we feel that we're still sitting on a volcano.
Disaster
I'm just waiting for some warm water to wash the tea dishes. Peter has taken James for a walk along the beach to try to keep him awake as long as possible. We've just had a very nasty shock:- Peter was filling our hurricane lamps while I prepared tea, he turned around for a second and James was gasping. We have no idea how much kerosene he drank, can't have been much, but he refused to drink milk, we had to force open his mouth and pour some in. Now he's in rather a state of shock, but his breath still smells strongly of kero, so we want him to stay awake as long as possible in case he gags in his sleep.
So many interesting things happen here, but when the time comes, of course, I can't remember half of them. I guess after a while most of it will become mundane anyway.
The army arrives
The army arrived yesterday, landed a great big Caribou (don't know how to spell that) transport plane on our tiny runway. They were recruiting men for Army Reserve - I think they go down to Townsville for three weeks in November. It was strange having so many 'whites' around. Peter and Dave pal-ed up with the pilot, a guy called Mark, as he wasn't involved in recruiting, and he came over for a cuppa and a chat - nice chap. Reckons when he gets out of the army he'd like to fly planes up this way, so we may see him again. A group of air-force guys came along for the ride (and some fishing) as well as a DAIA bod and the TI Catholic priest ... don't know what he hoped to achieve in just a few hours. I asked Mark how he'd go getting that big plane off that short airstrip - he assured me he'd use only half of it. Peter went up to the airstrip on the tractor for the ride and says he did only use about 3/4 - the 9-seater "Islander" plane only just makes it using the whole strip.
James was most impressed when the "bi- pay-" (big plane) buzzed the village then roared out over the ocean. He still "talks" about it, demonstrating with hand moving and finishing with "bye-bye".
Grubby brown children
We're having a hard time with James generally these days. Wilfred and Margaret's kids are very disobedient, and James tries to copy all they do. People get very upset when we discipline him in public, but we tend to do it anyway. He's mostly got tired of playing with those kids - they're so mean to him, pinching him, rubbing dirt on his face etc. (If we catch them at it when parents are not around we tend to return a bit of their own medicine - but if they catch James with us not around I guess things go worse with him. None of them, even the 4 yr old, have enough language to express to the parents what's happened.) Then if he tries to run off and play with other kids they drive him up the wall by kissing him. With being sick right now too, he's becoming very insecure and withdrawn again.
Somewhere to live
We are unsure about the housing situation here. We're forced to leave here for a while in November, but we may not get this place back when we return. We really need the council to offer us a bit of land to build a house on, or a disused house to do up and call our own while we are here.
Glass-bottomed boat
Then there's our boat. We have an ocean-going canoe, 25ft long, 4ft wide, glass-bottomed (!) boat in
Thurs a.m.
The days here flit by, but the nights last for weeks. Poor little James had recurring nightmares about drinking kero - each time one of us would get up and give him a drink of milk (he still smells very strongly of kero) then back to bed for another half-hour or so.
Keeping rats at bay
We've had trouble with rats too - or at least very large mice. We have a mouse trap set, but they are so big and tough they thrash around and make a horrible noise when hit - so Peter usually gets up and dongs them when the trap goes. That way we caught the four biggest trouble makers the first night, one the next - but not one since. Last night it was only the wind clattering something and not the trap at all.
Big fish to fry
Peter's just come back from fishing (its 7am) with 2 very large fish. A big fat trevally - about 10 kilos - and a smaller black kingy. But we won't even take a photo, its very commonplace these days. There's a funny old blind shark - about 6+ foot long - lives on the beach (well, in the water, but often practically on the beach) just outside our place. He gave us a few scares the first few times we saw him - when you're knee-deep in the water and there's a shark approaching with fin cutting the water straight towards you! He comes right up into the shallows, almost has to turn on his side to stay in the water. They tell us he's only a scavenger, but we still step out of the water when he comes close. Its the tiger sharks we have to watch for. Yesterday Peter counted seven where he was fishing. This morning a small one leapt right onto the sand chasing Wilfred's bait.
Wilfred caught a big (4ft) mackerel this morning - they aren't as nice eating as most of these others, but the men enjoy the struggle of bringing them in. Peters fish was medium size - if you put the nose on the ground, the tail was up to his hip - just to give you an idea of what a medium sized fish is. Now he's trying to find someone to give some away to. We may secrete a fillet or two in Dave's freezer for Sunday - we pride ourselves on not using his freezer generally, but its always a problem knowing what to eat on a Sunday.
James is funny with fish - fascinated by "-zzsh-" (fish) and boats ("boar-") in this place. Sometimes he'll come running in to me with a live, wriggling (bleeding) sardine in each hand, ones Peter has just speared for bait. Then he takes them back to make them swim. Sometimes he'll find a whole lot of dry sardines on the beach (where they've leapt out of the water with a big fish behind them) and he gets very worried about them all just lying there. It takes a bit of persuasion to get him to just throw them back and not bring them all home for tea.
He doesn't enjoy W and M's boys, but he loves baby Lenwat. She's a cute, smiley little brown girl. When she cries she sounds just like a kitten. He gets so upset when she cries, goes and talks to her and pats her on the head. Comes and tells me "... (gobbledy gook) ... bubby ..." We must get some of his gobbledy gook on tape before he learns to talk.
Supplies
The store opens again today - been closed about two days for stocktaking. There should have been a boat this week (rumour says) - the "Doigu" - but it broke down or something. Now they say the Melbidir might leave TI on Monday - takes about two days to get here - so maybe sometime next week we'll see a boat. No wharf here, of course, everything has to be transferred across the reef by dinghy.
One thing I don't think I'll get used to is drinking out of a "pumpkin". It took us a couple of days to realise that a "punkin" was a "pannikin" - metal mug. Even weak tea looks black in a pint sized one of those. Ah, but its so satisfying, they say.
Well, the water is warm for my "bath". We've come to the point where we just can't take cold showers any more. Its not that its that cold, its quite invigorating - but its so nice pouring warm water over yourself instead.
PS Could you make Peter a lava-lava please? Its quite simple but material is very expensive up here and a sewing machine is needed. Someone has given him an old one which he enjoys wearing, but he could do with a new one for Sunday.
You need 4 metres of calico - that's fairly sturdy, cotton material, isn't it? People like electric blue or green or scarlet. (Some wear pink or yellow, but looks better on dark skin) You cut it into two 2 metre lengths and sew it together along the edges to make a square. Then on the right side you sew a piece of braiding down the cut edge, not ric-rac, but some use white lacey stuff (not actually lace) or the sort of colourful braiding you can finish off furniture with - know what I mean? That hangs right down the front of the lava-lava on display. Then the other cut edge needs hemming, of course.
