In Search of Manam

I returned to the village today in an attempt to find Manam our cat. On route to the “Hut” last weekend – for a short stay – our “besty” went missing. I left home this morning at 7am and arrived at Mangiro at around 9am, after two hours of walking around the section of bush he was last seen and calling out his name – I gave up.

The locals tell me Manam’s around – he’s been seen near homes that also have cats – male and female. I’m guessing that with the abundant rat population – a few girls to chase and boys to fight – Manam is as happy as a cat will ever be. Born in the bush and now back in the bush – I’m sure he is currently in his element, having a grand old time and not fretting over his “family” back in town.

There have been times recently when I have had a need to go and find a nice quiet place somewhere – sit down – and have a good old cry. This afternoon – after getting back from the village – was one of those times. I don’t really understand the source or reason for this need of emotional release – but one thing is for sure – once the well of pain and sadness are stirs there’s no holding back the tears. Perhaps it’s the thought of never seeing our dear Manam again or perhaps it’s something else less obvious.

PNG continues to be an amazing albeit difficult journey of sorts – challenge and discomfort at many levels. When I first arrived here and for those first four years I lived with the vision and hope that a difference for the better was not only possible for the PNG people but inevitable. I now find myself needing to let go of this dream and surrender to the “what is” – the momentum behind the changes happening here are mightier than anyone person – certainly bigger and more powerful than this person – the future course of this beautiful country and it’s people was set a long time ago.

Once again I sit in my office at home writing these words and instead of hearing the fall of rain drops on our roof – I hear the cacophony of loud music and drunks swirling next door. This lack of consideration and courtesy for others within the community is a trait that so characterises the average urban PNG’ean. Whether it’s drunken antisocial behaviour, careless and reckless driving, tossing garbage on someone else’s lawn or the stealing within one’s own community – urban life in most PNG towns is anything but peaceful or friendly.

(Right now I am wandering whether I will have another sleepless night – if you could hear the noise and mayhem coming from next door right now – combined with the likelihood that it will continue well past the wee hours – you would understand what I’m on about. Call the police I hear you suggest – no need to… there next door right now – pissing it up and talking gibberish with the rest of the inconsiderates).

But there is good news… our noisy neighbours are leaving for Lae next week. What a relief! This evening’s fracas is a farewell BBQ and piss-up. Although invited – I refuse to go – no point in stirring the pot – with the local tradition of speeches – not a good idea for me to stand up and spill my beans. As much as I would like to give the whole family a piece of my mind – especially “papa long haus” – best to leave things as they are. Thank god for natural justice or perhaps this saying does not apply to PNG urban sprawls.

Finally and to finish on a positive note… it’s great to be back online. I missed the writing – which in many ways has become a release for me – an expression of self and an opportunity to give you a glimpse of this man’s inner world. To all the readers that have welcomed me back… the biggest of thank you’s.

The search for Manam will continue next weekend…