An outboard engine roars over the drumming of the rain on the deck of our sailboat. “Grab your bag!” Paul, one of the sailors I am travelling with, yells to me. “This one is coming to pick us up!“
Asking the locals for a ride is not our preferred method for travelling ashore, however, our location and lack of a working outboard engine for our dinghy makes it necessary. We are anchored off the coastal town of Daru, Papua New Guinea (PNG), where ripping tidal currents of muddy water and strong winds continuously jerk the boat against the two anchor lines set in the muck. Attempting to row a dinghy 800 meters to shore in these conditions is essentially suicide so we opted for the safer option of finding a ride into town to buy groceries at the market. I wonder silently to myself if this week-long storm will end before Paul’s fiancee, Linn-Charlotte, flies into Daru to re-join their sailboat. Slinging my bilum (a woven bag popular in the country) over my shoulder with my camera tucked inside and wrapped in a waterproof bag I step out into the rain to catch my ride ashore.
Daru Town is the urban center for the Western Province of Papua New Guinea. Situated on a small island at the north end of the Torres Strait, it is one of the few towns in the region with access to an airport, hospital, or an ATM. Walking through the market street by the wharf I find myself weaving between muddy potholes and crowds of people socializing or buying groceries. A small fishery shares the main square with a few supermarkets while many locals sell produce from their gardens and their daily catch of fish along the road. This is the focal point of Daru where the bulk of the crowds, litter, and chaos exists. It is home for 17,000 people but also has a large transient population. Banana boats (open fibreglass longboats with outboard engines) and large dug-out sailing canoes from the country’s interior constantly ferry people to and from town. Radiating out from the centre you find the few supermarkets and a rugby field before quickly ending up on a quiet dirt road out of town with homes surrounded by lush vegetation and massive mango trees.
By the end of the week, we had a consistent group of local friends who were always by our side whenever ashore. Apart from the few Chinese shop owners in town, we are the only foreigners here; everyone else is Papua New Guinean. Walking along the streets involves receiving lots of curious stares, but also many smiles, waves, and thumbs up from the locals. If you ever visit Papua New Guinea expect to be shaking hands constantly, especially multiple times throughout a conversation. News of our arrival spread like wildfire through the community (from what I can assume) and almost immediately those with idle time and a curious mind appear at our side.
Sesere Aia, Resident of Daru, Papua New Guinea
“What is the purpose of your visit here?” pipes up Sesere, a resident of Daru who seems to be quite popular. A funny yet serious man in his 30's Sesere and I quickly became acquaintances. He has a deep understanding of his community and is proud to give us a tour of his town. “Take out your camera and let’s go take some pictures! I want to show you my home.” Walking through the crowds I feel a sense of respect towards us but also a strong feeling of reservation and caution. Many would stare at us and some would call out to Sesere in Tok Pisin, one of the languages of PNG, asking about us and how we know him. I feel safe but am outside of my comfort zone, which is why I joined this sailing trip in the first place. I am happy around our new friends and take my camera out of the bilum to enthusiastically start taking photographs.
With our tour well on our way, we eventually weave our way into the communities surrounding town where Sesere lives with his extended family. Dirt paths and fences separate enclaves where the focal point of each place is a building belonging to one of the multiple church organizations that have taken root across the country. "Hellooooo!" scream a bundle of children in a field across from us. A funny face back ignites an explosion of laughter out of them!
Compared to the commercial area of Daru the energy throughout the homestead is very community-oriented. With wooden stilt houses, tin shacks, and a few nicer residences intermixed within a spread of lush gardens and vegetation I feel how important family is to Papua New Guineans. Our friends are proud to take us here and encourage Paul and I to take pictures of them and their extended families together. "Is that a deer leg?" I ask someone. Turns out they sometimes have deer as livestock here to supplement their diet of rice, fish, and vegetables. Nearing the shoreline our presence has disturbed the tranquillity of the area to the point where I find myself orchestrating a photoshoot with some fishermen repairing a net while Paul herds a flock of about thirty children together for a group photo. Feeling the crescendo of excitement reaching an apex Paul and I take our leave of our new friends to head back home.
Taking a shortcut across the mudflats exposed at low tide we head to the market to grab some fresh food for dinner and organize a ride back to our sailboat. Low tide while unfortunate for us who manage to walk in the wrong spot sinking up to shin-deep muck, is a social event for everyone else. People travel along the shoreline into town and children flock out to the temporary volleyball net set up offshore. Traversing our way to solid land all I could think about was to not step on any broken bottles or tin cans and to disinfect the open cut on my foot when I get back. With our reusable bags packed with the food, we head back home for the evening.
Mudflats exposed at low tide. Our sailboat, SV Amanda-Trabanthea, anchored in the distance (www.amanda-sailing.com)
Dorogari Village, Papua New Guinea
The next day we are off on an adventure to the mainland of PNG to visit a small community named Dorogari. Sesere coordinated to have a local boat to take us across the channel. Crouched inside the boat I am soaked to the bone by breaking waves as we head against the wind and the ocean swell. Landing on a windswept beach stretching like an arrow in both directions I peered through the palm trees to see a community of thatched roof bamboo houses and the spire of the local church. The rolling clouds from the storm still blanket the skyline dropping a grey mist and making it impossible to dry out.
“Around 200 people live here,” Sesere exclaims. “These people originally come from the Oriomo River in the interior. A few generations ago the village elders decided to resettle on the coastline for the wet season because of safety reasons. Crocodiles have killed people while living near the river so now they move to the seaside every year when there is rainwater available for drinking.” The children lead us down trails in the bush to visit the church, their school, and the village elders before stopping for lunch and fresh coconuts. One of the village leaders tells us “These children are very excited to see you because the last time we had a visitor here was six years ago. You are the first white people they have ever seen.” Their happiness radiates through the inclement weather but with rain approaching, we decide to head back to Daru before it is too late.
Paul and the majority of the children from the village of Dorogari
A day before leaving for Indonesia the current member of National Parliament for the district, Honorable Sekie Agisa, flew in from the capital to visit Daru. Crowds filled in the rugby field to listen to speeches and to watch cultural performances celebrating the occasion. Children ran around in packs playing while the adults watched from the sidelines. Dance groups dressed in traditional attire prepared for their performances. Most of the performers were local to Daru but represented cultures from across PNG. They were proud of their customs and were eager to share with me their stories and backgrounds.
“This town is the urban center for the region but we do not take advantage of the economic opportunities,'' Mr. Agisa declares. “Barges full of supplies and merchandise arrive full weekly to Daru and we send them back to the capital empty.” Economic development is a challenge throughout PNG. In the past eighteen years, the labour force participation rate (the proportion of people eligible to participate in the labour force and are participating in it) has dropped by 27% leaving the country globally ranked in the bottom 20. Therefore there is a lot of idle people throughout PNG, including Sesere. A smart and charismatic man with no available work opportunities, he and everyone else listening to politicians speak have reserved hopes that things will change for the better. As the performances continue I cannot help but think about how the pressures of modern society can sometimes clash with PNG’s rich cultural history.
My week in Daru was challenging but it was also a rewarding experience. As foreigners on a sailboat, we stood out, even more so as tourists. Leaving town one day I was approached by someone claiming to have a jar of dirt with gold dust from the interior of the country. He was apologetic after learning I was only here to visit; he assumed I was another foreigner here working for the mining industry. It takes time for people to warm up to us but as soon as they do their hearts open up to us. Preparing for our departure the fishery was kind enough to help us to resupply our drinking water and as a departing gift left us with frozen lobster tails and fish fillets. No one asked us for money as they willingly helped us with rides ashore or guide us through town on a tour. Unfortunately, garbage litters the shoreline and there is no awareness or desire to clean up the community. People are instead focused on providing for their families and securing enough food to eat. On top of all of this, crowded living conditions have contributed to Daru having one of the highest rates of tuberculosis in the world. Sailing away from town we watched the crowds on the wharf watching us. I could not help but think about my good fortunes being from a developed nation and having the opportunity to willingly choose to visit places like Daru. This was my second time in PNG and as intense as it is to travel through it I do find it fascinating. I look forward to the next time I visit.
article & photography
Michael Chahley
references:
Taukarai, R. (2018, February 13). Let’s Kick TB out of PNG. World Health Organization. Retrieved from https://www.who.int/papuanewguinea/news/detail/13-02-2018-let-s-kick-tb-out-of-png
Papua New Guinea: Labor force participation. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://www.theglobaleconomy.com/Papua-New-Guinea/Labor_force_participation/