Angal is a remote inland village where many health workers refused to patrol because of the rugged mountains, difficult terrain and tropical rain forest.

Our aim of reaching there before sunset did not eventuate as the track was slippery from heavy rain and we needed to cross a number of flooded creeks that delayed us.

As it was getting dark one of the carriers suggested we rest overnight at a bush hut and continue the next day.

The following morning we started at five. The carriers were used to walking up and down the mountains and skilfully stepping over the tree roots in the forest but we, the health officers, were not used to the experience.

But even with aching bodies we never suggested a rest to show the local carriers that we, too, were fit to walk the track.

At two in the afternoon we arrived in Angal, not knowing that the community was prepared to welcome us. As we entered the village, the people stood in two straight rows singing songs of welcome and we walked in the middle shaking hands.

I was saddened at their appearance as both parents and kids had torn clothes or even no clothes at all. Some wore grass skirts as if we were still under colonial rule. Others had only a pair of torn shorts. I sensed that the community was in dire need of services, a health post, a school and other government services.

The community leader suggested we take a day off for rest and orientation and the next day we started our clinic.

The mothers smiled with a kind of relief as if saying at last we are recognised. The community addressed us as doctors and we treated every case with the strength and willpower implanted in our hearts even though David was a community health worker and I a nursing officer.

So we boosted our adrenaline to take a step up to be doctors only in that community. For a whole day we treated and educated that community and in the following days we did the same for other neighbouring communities.

It took us almost a week to treat the five remote inland communities.

When the scheduled time for our return to the Kaliai health sub-centre, the communities gathered in appreciation of our service. Elders gave speeches of appreciation and thanked us for taking the initiative to provide them with a much needed service. The gathering finished late in the afternoon with a little party.

As we were packing up to depart the next day, an elderly man walked in.” Mi laik lukim dokta, em stap a?” (“I want to see the doctor, is he there?”) I walked towards him and he signalled me to follow.

We walked through the village to his house not knowing his intention. As we passed, the people stared at us not even saying any words

“Son doctor, I thank you very much for travelling this far to serve my community and others. I thank you for choosing my village as your base. Thank you very much.”

The old man was the most powerful man in that community, highly respected for his wisdom and powers.

“Son doctor, I have nothing much to give you as my appreciation but I will give you something if you don’t mind.” He stared at me.” “Sure, according to your will,” I replied.

“First thing, are you married?” he asked. “No, I replied.” In fact I was married, but not legally in church. My wife was continuing her final year at Goroka College of Nursing at that time.

“OK son doctor, I give you this plant, a ginger. You take it with you.”

The ginger was green, the only difference being a white strip in the middle of its leaves.

“You must plant it in a pot and water it every day. You will notice a white silver snake around it at times but don’t be afraid. It is the power of the ginger plant.

“Take a slice of its bulb and put it inside your mouth. If you see a lady of your interest, if you wanted to marry her, then burn the bulb on a hot fire. If you just want to play around, put it beside the fire and then cool it in cold water and discard it.”

He then escorted me back to my team members. The next day we left for our walk back to base.