I don’t remember that, was it really that bad?
26 November 2010
BY PHILIP FITZPATRICK
WE TEND to view the past with rose tinted glasses. The bad experiences fade away and the good ones remain. It’s part of the natural human inclination to be happy.
Sometimes something comes along to remind us of those less than pleasant experiences. In the case of PNG a re-reading of John Bailey’s 1972 book The Wire Classroom will do the trick. In many ways it’s a revelation, albeit not a pleasant one.
The story follows the progression of a young teacher straight out of ASOPA through a year at the mythical outstation of Wendi in the Gulf District.
Remember the interminable boredom of outstation life? Remember the booze ridden days and nights, the heat, the constant damp and the unfathomable ways of the locals? It’s all in Bailey’s book.
Remember the faint suspicion that you and your friends were there because you couldn’t make a go of it in Oz; that you were somehow second rate?
Remember the universally held belief that the locals, especially your hausboi, were useless and could break almost anything? Remember the story about the highlander who came back to his boss with the broken anvil?
Remember the counter balance? The intelligent and educated local who was not lauded for those qualities but feared for what he or she could do with them.
What about the illicit sex where people away from their customary environment behaved in all sorts of scandalous ways? Where PNG women became objects of white male longing and the constant ogling of bare breasts was a regular pastime.
Remember the longing to be home in Oz among the familiar? When being able to buy something as simple as a strawberry milkshake at the local deli became an obsession.
Remember the urge to be out of the debilitating heat and humidity and to be back to cold winters and warm fires?
Not your experience you say; I enjoyed my time up there, but for sure I knew people like that.
Bailey’s chalkie anti-hero who finally realises he was not cut out for teaching and outstation life and eventually skulks off home was certainly that way inclined.
Remember Kenneth Cook’s 1961 novel Wake in Fright? This is the PNG version. Have a drink mate? Have a fight mate? Have a taste of dust and sweat mate? There’s nothing else out here mate reads the poster for the successful 1971 film version now being deified as an Australian classic.
There is no doubt where Bailey got his inspiration. The descent of outback teacher John Grant into his own personal hell is beautifully paralleled in Bailey’s book by the chalkie Charlie Cummins.
This was John Bailey’s first novel. He went on to write a snappy and funny sci-fi novel in 1978 called The Moon Baby and then disappeared off the scene until The White Divers of Broome in 2001, The Lost German Slave Girl in 2003 and then the much acclaimed Mr Stuart’s Track in 2006.
Read The Wire Classroom if you dare. It will make you laugh and it will depress you but it will also make you think, was it really as good as I remember?
Search Abe Books on the net for a copy.
I was a teacher in PNG who chose to teach in isolated schools. Sure it could be tough but I felt privileged that I was able to teach such wonderful children.
Looking back I don't believe that it was an unbearable hardship but a great honour to serve the people of New Guinea.
When I see the achievements of some of my students I know that any small discomfort I suffered was worth it. I have just found that one of my students was honoured by the Queen for his service to policing in PNG.
Posted by: Trevor Freestone. | 27 November 2010 at 08:44 PM
I do remember it, Phil, I do! On the Aroma coast in the Central District, sitting in the tepid seawater on a Friday afternoon, longing to be in a Sydney or Melbourne bar late in the day, sucking down one or two or ten cold beers.
The kiaps reckon they did it tough out in the sticks as early 20-somethings. But we callow chalkies were also giving up our youth stuck in the middle of nowhere - sometimes for years on end.
Fortunately I managed to get out of the miserable (to me, anyway) chalking caper into another career and got back to Moresby, a city which I loved.
I've always been a city boy. Feel lost surrounded by trees, bushes, strange noises coming out of nowhere amidst the greenery.
Give me a freeway, an off-ramp to an Art Gallery, cathedral or a classy cafe with sparkling crockery and cutlery, and the odd red or three any time.
I remember those terrible Saturday nights sitting with three or four young blokes in a vacant, native teacher's house which we'd converted to a "club". Kerosene-fuelled fridges, which I had never clapped eyes on until arriving in PNG in late '63, kept the SP greenies cold.
But it's not what 23-24 year-olds were doing back home. That terrible point you raise hit home with all of us.
Maybe we weren't able to make a go of it in Oz. Were we really just second-raters stuck in a PNG out station when everyone else back home was tearing it up?
Posted by: Richard Jones | 26 November 2010 at 07:35 PM
I have at least two PNG mums (long story).
One is called Mana Dre, the other Mana Dau.
Mana = mother, Dre - beautiful, Dau = 'the other one '
By the way the state flower of Simbu is called Dre Dragi - the beautiful orchid (or beautiful young girl). It only grows above 2,000 metres and it's proper name is Dendrobium Habbemense.
Dongun orkwa!
Posted by: Peter | 26 November 2010 at 10:30 AM
More work needs to be done on Tok Peles translations, grammar and spelling. eg is it enduwas or enduwa? moglkwa or mockwa? embana or embawan? Also there are at least three distinct dialects of Kuman.
However SIL is doing great work.
A bit like English before the time of Dr Johnson - there is disagreement on the standards and spelling is a bit arbitrary. For example, I have an old copy of Plutarch translated by Thomas North in the 16th century. The title is "Plutarch's Lives of the Great Romans, Englished by Lord North"
So 'Englished' was an accepted way of saying 'translated into English', but we wouldn't use this term nowadays.
Posted by: Peter | 26 November 2010 at 10:01 AM
Na Simbu wakai kaninga! = I love Simbu
Ambai wagai enduwas = Come here beautiful girl
Na Angra, mane Ambai! Na Rose embana moglkwa - I am a boy not a girl, and Rose is my wife
Tratna - cannot be translated on a respectable site like this.
Posted by: Peter Kranz | 26 November 2010 at 06:52 AM
My PNG relos have a great sense of humour. At a Christmas party we raised our glasses for a toast and I said 'Cheers! - how do you say that in Kuman?"
They replied "you must say Tratna!" So I did. They fell about laughing as this is a very naughty word.
Posted by: Peter Kranz | 26 November 2010 at 06:28 AM
A bit off topic, but for those interested, the Institute of Summer Linguistics publish a range of Tok Peles/English dictionaries. They can be ordered from the UPNG bookshop.
I have the Kuman one - it's quite useful, but you have to be careful with literal word-for-word translations as they can get you into trouble!
Na Simbu wakai kaninga!
________________
Ambai wagai enduwas! - KJ
________________
Na Angra, name Ambai! Na Rose embana moglkwa - PK
Posted by: Peter Kranz | 26 November 2010 at 05:55 AM