This should bring back a few memories!
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The Die Was Cast - My Journey to New Guinea For your listening pleasure: TAIM BILONG MASTA70 years of PIM are now available on the internet - click here A new online library servicing the Pacific: digitalpasifik.org If something on this blog doesn't work, please contact the janitor Alternatively, contact the Helpdesk |
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David Wall, a former resident of the East Sepik Province, has written a novel which is available as an e-book.
"Like the surrounding villages, the patrol post of Dreikikir was perched on a ridge, amidst dense tropical jungle. Human habitation in the area was marked by houses, gardens and tall coconut palms. Smoke rose from cooking fires in the settlements and the sounds of insects and birds filled the air. Communication was maintained in the time-honoured fashion by wooden drums. The sounds of the garamut drums were heard conveying messages beaten out on them. One might love or hate New Guinea but there was no denying its pulsating vitality. The jungle was a celebration of nature. The Melanesians in their exuberance and energy flamboyantly acclaimed their lives. The expatriates in the country, whether they knew it or not, were privileged to have the chance to live amongst the New Guineans."
So begins the story. To read the whole book, obtain a copy by going to www.deberigny.wordpress.com or emailing David Wall at mahal362000[AT]yahoo.com.au
A hard copy is available for $30
Email: mahal362000@yahoo.com.au
Address: 152 Wilson St, Newtown 2042, NSW
Phone: 02 95505053
As creator of the Bougainville website and this blog, I am not surprised just how deep the memories are for those who spent any time on Bougainville as I myself think back to my time there and in other parts of New Guinea as the most formative and the most enjoyable years of my life.
Perhaps it is the result of having read Coral Island and Somerset Maugham at an impressionable age, but the South Pacific islands have always evoked a powerfully romantic image with me. Mention the South Seas and I conjure up a vision of waving coconut palms and a dusky maiden strumming her ukelele. Silhouetted against the setting sun, Trader Pete (that's me!) sits in a deck-chair in front of his hut sipping a long gin and tonic while a steamboat chugs into the lagoon, bringing mail from home.
Read the rest of the story [here]