Today was hot, wet, windy, rainy, cold, warm, humid then hot again. After a magnificent
march, tribes from different Solomon Islands put on spectacular displays of their unique
cultural celebration dances. Being me, I took the camera right up to the dances and took
photos and film clips. If you don’t mind me saying the ‘ass grass’ pardon the pun, could
have fallen off and I would not have minded at all.
Men here are well toned with beautiful crisp brown soft shiny skin. I couldn’t help myself
, so I jumped in a tight packed group of full costumed men resembling what we would
call a “man power” photo opportunity. Something I did not want to miss. Sorry Scott.
They even let me take a photo of their b-hinds. All were more then willing to turn around
and let me take a shot for the photo album.
Betel nut, (ginger and lime (coral)) yummy. Well maybe Ryan is the only one who likes
it , but he says it is good. It’s day 7 and Ryan has turned into a full-fledged Solomon
Islander. One more week and I don’t think his own mother would recognize him!!!! He
has his grass man-bag (betel nut bag) and in it is a constant supply of betel nut, ginger
and lime.
“ first you have to try and get the nut out of the soft fiberous shell by biting into it. The
shell tastes like the furry bit on the end of corn. Put the nut in your mouth and start
chewing, while chewing dip the ginger in the lime and take a bite. Continue this till the
ginger is gone. By this time your mouth should be bright red and full of saliva so spit the
juice and continue chewing till all gone. By this time your head is spinning and your
feeling kind of fuzzy. ” Ryan.
Mmmmmmm, sounds delicious!!!! NOT!! It tastes like putting a whole mouthful of dry
crushed rock in your mouth, hang on crushed coral is rock. Half the people here walk
around resembling Dracula. I’m glad I have a wonderful man back home who pre-rinses,
brushes, flosses, and then Listerine’s again. A bit obsessive compulsive but I’m sure a lot
better to kiss. Oh well, the girls here never have to re-do their lipstick; their lips are
always red.
I have spent way too much already on stuff to bring home. It’s getting to the point where
I’m not only leaving all clothes tent and sleeping bag here. I’m thinking I’ll have to leave
myself here cause I’ll be cheaper and easier to package up and post home.
It’s staring to feel like home. I’m up washing my clothes before breakfast and am
choosing to walk the 3 km’s into town rather then catch the bus.
Some of the things I will not forget when I leave, though perhaps I would rather forget, is
the random accesses to power, the water pressure that comes in waves, the continually
flooding toilets, the continual wet floors, the continual wet tents, washing that takes 3
days to dry and even when you put it on still kind of feels damp. The bugs, the mozzies,
the noise, the crowd, the “I never seem to have time to myself to scratch my self”, the
continual, Ally, I hurt myself, I’m bleeding, what’s this rash, there’s a huge lump on my
head, I have a headache, I feel sick, I cant walk on my leg is it broken. Have you seen
my….and the list goes on.
I love that I was given the opportunity to participate in such an amazing project. I have
made so many friends learnt so much about other cultures and how to slow down and see
the world rather then just live in it. My whole outlook on life has changed. I don’t know
how I will go back to having a car and being stuck in the mad rat race of life called the
Tuggeranong Parkway 7:50 am. I’ll thing I’ll opt for the quite slow paced bike path even
with frozen knuckles and icicles on your eyelashes. I wont miss the heat though. I love
being bare foot and living by the breezes and the pace of a slow beat heart.
Ali Reardon, Honiara Project, 2004.