Simbu – Fined for spitting buai

Early Friday morning and time to hit the road again. Another trip up the Highlands Highway, each trip seems to get easier. I will always remember that 1^st ride by PMV up to Goroka, in my blog post I might have described it as a new form of extreme sport. I still feel the same way today but having traveled to Goroka now half a dozen times, each trip seems to get that little bit easier.

This time the trip was to be of a slightly different nature. Accompanied by Eli, her younger brother Lumba and her father, we were headed to Eli’s father’s village : “Kaubasis” in the Simbu Province of the PNG Highlands.

The plan was that Eli’s dad and younger brother Lumba would organize for a PMV to come and collect us from campus at approximately 6:00am. Woken by the annoying buzz of my alarm clock at 4:30am and ready to “rock’n’roll” by 6:00am (as agreed) – we sat outside, packed, ready and waiting, coffee and ciggies nearby. 7:00am comes around and still no show. This is generally how things go in PNG – “rubber time” or “PNG time” they call it. Frustrating to say the least nevertheless, a peculiarity of PNG culture that one must get used to.

Let me just say this about “rubber time”… there are two things that operate vastly different in PNG : distance and time. Yes, distance and time. Distance – all places are : klos tu or klos tu klos tu or long we lik lik. Pig’s arse! And double pigs arse!! No such thing as being told : “3.7 kms or one and a half hours away. The way I cope with the distance thing is I have learnt not to ask a PNG man or woman : “How far do we have to go”? With regards to time and PNG culture it can be equally as annoying as distance. Frankly, time does not mean a great deal in the Land of the Unexpected, things happen when things happen and that’s just the way it is. An interesting observation regarding the time thing is that “things” always do seem to happen – not in Robert’s time but in “rubber time”.

The trick in coping with this PNG idiosyncrasy is just to relax!! Difficult at first to adjust to for this (at times) control freak – but a Melanesian nuance that is growing on me by the day (sorry Mum!).

Anyway, back to the story…

Eventually (approx. 8:00am) we found ourselves at the bus stop adjacent to the main markets downtown Lae – the place
where most of the Highlands PMV’s depart from. The bus stop at the main markets is a hive of activity : street sellers, bos cru hawking for passengers and lots of people with cago heading up to the Highlands or Madang. This bus stop also
caters for people traveling to the outskirts of Lae. People everywhere, PMV’s going around in circles, the odd argument or even a fight. The place is alive and abuzz.

Over the last 12 months or so Lae Council has been making an effort to cleanup public places around town. To spur this cleanup campaign along, Council Officers have been given powers to “spot fine” members of the public that either litter or spit buai or both. In my view the effort made by the local authorities to tidying up Lae seems to be working – unfortunately – locations that are not patrolled remain as filthy as ever.

And now we arrive at the crux of this story… (crux : one of those words hey!)

So here we are at downtown Lae main markets, waiting/looking for a PMV, it’s busy, and people push and jostle to get a seat as empty PMV’s drive into the terminus area. One hour passes and no seats. We start to get a little impatient.

Time for some buai!!

I duck across the road to buy a couple of kinas worth of betelnut and after having a short chat with the betelnut seller I wander back and rejoin the crew. There are some betelnut chewers that swallow their spat whilst others prefer to spit – I fall into the latter category… I’m a spitter.

So subversive-arrogant-smartarse me stands there chewing and spitting – even after being warned by several people (including Eli), that Council Officers patrol the Main Markets and bus stop areas on the look-out for “spitting” idiots such
as myself.

(Please don’t tell anyone but… I have been harbouring for some time now a fantasy of being the first “whitie” in PNG to be spot-fined for spitting in a No-Spit zone)

You see… dreams do come true!! (You just have to want them badly enough)

A mean looking man carrying a rather large piece of rubber strap approaches me and in a respectful but very forceful
manner tells me that I have dirtied the drain which he had just cleaned. He then tells me that spitting betelnut carries a penalty and I am to accompany him to the Security Office. At this point Eli’s Dad wanders over to find out what was going on. Before you know it Eli’s Dad and the Council Officer are in the middle of a heated argument. The voice volumes slowly get louder. It’s at this stage I start to get a little anxious so I try and diffuse the situation by agreeing to accompany the officer towards the markets area where the security officer is located.

More arguments and harsh words followed in the office, some of the public outside the office also joined in. Eli got her two bobs worth in as well. Three or four Council blokes also got verbal and this added to the overall tension of the situation. Me? I was sitting there in a corner listening and watching, a little excited at the prospect of being the 1^st white bloke to be spot-fined for spitting betelnut.

I then asked if I could have my say and in Tok Pisin I told the room that if a person commits an offense – black or white – he or she should pay the price. I then agreed to pay the fine, apologized for being a public nuisance and agreed to “never” do it again.

I am “proud” to inform you that I am most likely the 1^st “whitie” to be spot-fined K20 for spitting buai in a no-spit zone (Sorry Mum).

(See above photo form proof)

End of story.

NB: Bikhet man = smartarse